The First Time I Suced on a Round Outie Bellybutton

I don't get why so many people hate on outies. I really don't. An outie bellybutton is essentially little other than a round (or oval, sometimes) wad of soft, warm flesh on arguably the most vulnerable part of the male abdomen - front and center, where it can't hide.

Being a die-hard bellybutton fetishist, I pretty much love nearly all bellybuttons. Innies are the dominant ones, of course, and probably nine out of ten guys have innies of various sorts - dots, folds, ovals, slits, you name it. But outies are pretty rare by comparison, for whatever reason. Much has been written about how the types of bellybuttons out there are not determined by the doctor at the time of birth - but a doctor usually can't cause an outie.

If a bellybutton is visually interesting to me, I get hard about it. That includes its size - a larger bellybutton calls to me from a shirtless guy - but it also includes if it's an outie. An outie, to me, is more of a true "navel-ly" looking bellybutton - it's something that looks like a belly

button

. It sticks out defiantly, with a pleasant lack of subtlety. Its visual nature demands attention and almost always gets it, causing some people to steal fascinated looks at it, and the more contemptuous to outright stare at it.

One place I love navel gazing is at outdoor festivals or parties. There was this one fundraiser for a gay non-profit where I live. It's an annual thing in the late spring, so the weather is warm enough for guys to comfortably go shirtless or don crop-tops (my favorite garment in the whole universe, formerly known as half-shirts). Nothing frames a beautiful bellybutton like a crop-top cut just right, revealing a perfect four- or five-inch strip of belly with a lovely navel centered in the middle of the gap between the shirt and the pants.

There were probably about a hundred guys out there, many different styles and clothes, reflecting the diversity of the community in which I live. There were booths all over the place, and dance music was being blasted out of speakers all over the festival site.

I'd been to this festival for years and this one year was probably one of the biggest ever, for attendance. And at one end of the festival site, kind of in a corner, there was what appeared to be a refreshments booth, only there weren't any refreshments, just the booth. And there was one guy in the booth, in a gray crop-top with, in black letters across his chest, using the kind of athletic font one sees in the football world, the words "FREE HUGS".

The guy had beautiful blond hair in straight waves down to his shoulders, friendly steel blue eyes with a touch of the feminine in them, and an upbeat smile that I found inviting. I was a bit surprised that more people weren't crowding the booth of this sweet looking guy who appeared to be in his mid 20's. Maybe that was it - the gay community can be awfully harsh when it judges someone's "sell-by" date. Or maybe they thought his long hair made him not enough like a manly man.

Indeed, as I began slowly walking to the booth, the blond's midsection was bereft of the markers that so-called manly men are generally thought to have. He had no visible body hair. He had no rippled abs, but I wouldn't call his midsection unappealing - there were just no lines of definition, just a sort of smooth tone I always like. No tattoos, either, for the fringe crowd; nor piercings or scars. Just a creamy, smooth, unblemished stomach where a large, round outie - at least the size of a quarter, probably a bit bigger than that in circumference - was the only distinguishing feature on his midriff.

As I got to the booth, the smile on my face broadened, as did the blond's. I exhaled, a bit taken aback at this guy's simple beauty.

"So..." I began, hoping to warm him up with a light touch of humor, "Are they

really

free?"

"Oh, yes, they really are," the blond responded in a surprisingly high voice, what music experts could call a tenor's voice. I love tenor's voices. If they're smooth and nasal I always find myself wondering what they sound like when they come.

My eyes kept darting between the blond's eyes and his beautiful outie bellybutton. I was trying to be furtive about it.

"Are you reading my shirt?" the blond said with a bit of cheekiness.

"Ummm, I am

noticing

the shirt," I said, not exactly lying. Any crop-top is going to get me horny.

I then introduced myself, extending a hand to shake.

"Steven," the blond said, accepting my hand. His hands were slightly on the big side, very fleshy, very soft. They were the kind of hands I'd want wrapped around my penis to give me a hand job until I blew all over the place. It was a warm, cordial shake.

"I do have to say, I like the shirt, Steven," I followed up. "Crop-tops are especially flattering on certain guys, I've observed, in my travels."

"Really? How so."

"Well," I began a bit cautiously, hoping not to sound like any form of creepy, "I think a crop-top looks best on someone with a midsection like yours - with a nice, flat stomach, without a heavy coating of dark body hair or anything, or without heavy musculature, or ink, or piercings..."

"Looks like I qualify," Steven said. He was looking me directly in the eyes now - not in a laser-piercing way, but with what I'd consider elevated interest.

I paused, tilted my head with a smile, then leveled it and continued.

"I...uh...really have to say that I absolutely love crop-tops on pretty guys with outies..."

Steven looked down at his bellybutton then back up at me.

"I like having an outie," Steven said with a slight grin. "It makes me...different."

"Yes," I said, getting hornier by the second, now looking more at his outie.

Another pause.

"Would you...like a hug?" Steven volunteered.

I looked around. The festival was winding down. There weren't as many people around. I felt mildly emboldened.

"I...I would absolutely

love

one from you," I almost stammered.

Steven raised his arms, presenting his open breast and bared midriff to me, inviting me to step into it, which I did, with my own arms raised to receive him, my forearms wrapping naturally and smoothly around the bared back of his exposed midriff. Ohhhh, the feeling of that soft, warm skin against my forearms. The warmth of his front pressing against my T-shirt. And the sensation of his farily firm outie flesh gently pressing against my stomach.

I raised my hands to feel his shoulder blades, taking them in my hands. I felt his pliable shoulder under my chin as I rested myself on him in our shared embrace.

And I felt him pull me to him - warmly, fondly, very kindly, his hands across my shirt-clad back. A moan of pleasure involuntarily escaped me. Steven felt so amazing. In my mind, I imagined the image - me in the arms of a beautiful guy sporting a crop-top with his large bellybutton showing and pressing against me. My cum muscles were generating fluid as we stood there in that posture.

We shared that embrace for a good five minutes. I didn't want for it to end. Oddly, I was the one to release the embrace. I guess I wanted to gaze on this lovely guy.

"That was...really, really wonderful," I gently said to Steven, disoriented from the thrill of the hug. "How much do I owe you?"

Steven giggled, his warm smile beaming. "Nothing, like my shirt says. It really, really is free."

We looked at each other, for a moment, not sure what to do next. The festival had formally ended. Workmen were striking booths, folks were starting to clear away trash.

"What are you doing after this?" Steven asked me.

If I had anything on my schedule, I was going to clear it immediately. Steven just became priority one.

"Umm..." I said, making a silly shrug, "Nothing." I laughed.

"Want to...come by my place for a little bit?" Steven offered in almost a whisper, looking me directly in the eyes. If my bulging dick could speak, it would have shouted its approval.

"Yes...yes, of course. Lead the way."

Steven cutely beckoned with his head for me to follow him. We walked for perhaps a block to a rather nice, two-story apartment complex of perhaps two dozen units. Steven apparently had walked to the festival.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open. I went in, then he switched a light on and gently shut the door. I immediately felt a very "lived-in" vibe to his place, and I felt surprisingly safe. The only sound in the room was the faint hum of the fan of the apartment unit's air conditioning system.

"I like your place," I said still standing.

"I do, too," Steven responded.

I walked to a chair that was in his dining area and sat down. Steven watched me.

"What are you thinking?" Steven asked.

I thought for a moment.

"I'm thinking about you. I'm thinking about how beautiful you are. About how sweet you are, how handsome you are. I'm thinking about how gorgeous you look baring your midriff in a 'free hugs' tee."

I paused again.

"And I'm wondering about how amazing your bellybutton must feel, against my face...between my lips."

Steven had a slight smile on which broadened a little bit.

"How lucky for me. I've been wondering what it's like for someone to suck on my bellybutton. My stomach is sensitive anyway, but my outie, is really, really touchy, in a sexual way. Unfortunately for me, most guys won't go near it - they think I'm a freak for having one..."

I smiled back.

"Looks like this will be good for both of us," I summarized.

Steven nodded.

And then he walked over to me, and I watched his every step as he became closer with his outie getting closer, closer, closer until his stomach and his midsection were just inches from my face, close enough that I could feel his body heat against my cheeks.

I looked at his sensuous wad of flesh that I was now face to face with. I looked up at Steven, who was looking down at me, with an anticipatory vibe.

"Free sucking," I whispered.

Steven giggled.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his outie, feeling the soft, warm flesh of the nub against the inside of my mouth. "Mmmmm," I went. I felt his hands on the back of my head, gently beginning to stroke me lovingly.

I moved my lips back and forth horizontally across his outie, enjoying the sensations of both his bellybutton and his flat stomach. I dragged the bridge of my nose across the top of his navel, making a few small circles around the top.

Steven's head was back, now. He was moaning, softly, with pleasure, at my moves.

I planted a flurry of loving kisses on Steven's large, round outie, loving the mixed sensations of my moistened lips and his warm nub of stomach flesh. I started with light pecks, then progressed to deeper and deeper presses, slowing down as I did, to savor it.

At one point, I tilted my head sideways, so I could feel Steven's outie against my right cheek. It felt so good. I slowly rotated my head to feel his outie gently rubbing the side of my face, as if he was initiating the action. My eyes were shut, as I was focusing on how his navel felt against my right cheek.

"God, that feels so good," Steven said.

I turned my head back forward and faced Steven's outie, gazing at it for a moment, loving its contour and its placement under the lower hem of his crop-top. I opened my mouth, extended my tongue, and speared the top of his outie, right in the very middle of the top of it. Steven involuntarily yelped with pleasure as I did so.

"Please don't stop," he quietly cooed.

I made a series of circular tracing motions with my tongue around his outie, first on the top of it, then around the perimeter of it at the base. Then I dragged my full tongue across his bellybutton back and forth, back and forth, several times, loving the taste of his navel's skin, of his warm, sensual flesh. I poked the middle of his outie several times with a gentle stabbing motion. His stomach and bellybutton had now been completely moistened by my mouth. I was very close to coming.

"I'm loving that this is happening," I whispered to Steven.

"Me, too," he whispered back breathlessly.

And then I went for it. Planting my parted lips on his entire round outie, I kissed once again, and then slowly and seductively sucked his bellybutton into my mouth, feeling the flesh of his navel on my lips, and feeling my own mouth salivate heavily. The top edge of Steven's outie was grazing the upper interior of my mouth just behind my teeth, while my tongue was flicking his nub back and forth, exploring and loving the sensation of his navel flesh in my mouth. I licked his outie back and forth, moving my entire mouth in a gentle circle.

Steven was breathing even more deeply now. Figuring he was about to reach the point of inevitability, I drew back far enough to be able to unbuckle the belt on his jeans, undo the clasp, pull the flaps apart, unzip the fly, and liberate his thick, long, and partially moistened penis into the air of the apartment. It hung there helplessly, but was sort of stiff and getting harder by the moment.

I leaned back into Steven's stomach and round, warm, moist outie, resuming my licking and sucking motions, dragging my tongue across his navel again and again. Again, at one point, I brushed my right cheek against his stomach, loving the nub.

The tip of his penis began to seep precum. I leaned back forward and drew Steven's outie back into my mouth, sucking more forcefully now, licking the underside of his navel flesh insistently, with a touch of relentlessness. Steven's breathing went faster.

"I'm gonna cum...I'm gonna cum...oh God, I'm gonna cum..." Steven whispered in a husky tone of voice. I wasn't letting go. I still had his bellybutton my mouth, insistently sucking away, licking away, smearing my saliva all over his navel...

Steven finally blew. Hard. Very hard. I felt the warmth of a huge blast of his gray-white syrupy semen hit the lower part of my neck and upper part of my chest as he moaned. Another blast hit the same place on my neck and the warm semen felt so amazing hitting my upper body. Still, I was sucking on his outie, and a third blast shot out and landed on his floor.

I switched to licking his bellybutton and Steven's pelvis bowed as he ejaculated several more times. After a half-dozen of these spasms, he stopped coming. I drew back, and enjoyed an incredibly erotic sight - his large, round outie in my face, having been serviced by me. His penis, semi-flaccid, with a huge glob of gray-white semen, a strand, defiantly refusing to break off and fall to the floor, gently swaying in the air currents of the AC system.

I unzipped my own pants, got out my own dick and started furiously masturbating, coming in maybe one or two minutes, my cum joining Steven's on the floor under the chair.

Both of us just paused, in the positions where we were, for a few moments, panting at the erotic energy both of us just expended.

And then I reached up and pulled his bared, blissfully sloppy, wet midriff and outie bellybutton to my face and head once again, giving him a full, snug, and very sensual hug. He placed his hands on the back of my head to pull me close, receiving the embrace. We rested in that position for probably five minutes or so. We broke apart and looked at each other.

Steven spoke next.

"Can we do this again?" he said, still panting a bit. "Soon?"

I eyed his large, smooth, round outie bellybutton. I reached up with my right hand and began fingering it and pinching the nub teasingly.

"Anytime," I said with an adoring smile. "Anytime you want."