Tummy Riding with Michael Robinavitch (inspired by @oldermenfucker)
Growing up, you’d been taught to drool over unnaturally muscular superhero actors. They were the ones on magazine covers, on the TV screens, on every fan-cam edit posted on TikTok. And you’d be lying if you said they weren’t attractive.
As for body hair, most of those bodybuilding men were smooth as a dolphin. Despite parading “manly men” with muscles upon muscles, none of those guys had a trace of chest hair. Maybe facial hair if you were a Hemsworth brother. In fact, you can remember the jump scare from seeing Corbin Bleu’s armpit hair in High School Musical as a kid. You had been trained to salivate over a silky smooth upper body with ridges sharp enough to cut diamond.
But for some reason, you found yourself disturbingly wet over the sight before you: your senior attending, and more importantly, your new boyfriend, changing into a new scrub top after a pediatric patient projectile vomited on his old one. You hadn’t meant to barge into the bathroom, but the door also wasn’t locked.
It was the first time you’d ever seen Robby shirtless. Sure, he was a man in good physical shape, but he wasn’t a Calvin Klein model. He ate healthy meals (after work), drank water (after work), played pickleball with Jack (after work), but those beers in the park (after work) seemed to linger in his gut. You had seen the outline of his pudgy stomach through the deceptive black scrub tops before, even dragged your fingernails along its rounded outline when trying to reach up to his neck while he kissed you tenderly on your first date.
But now? You could see it. The plushness of his abdomen, his broad shoulders proudly showcasing his soft chest, the glint of his Magen David against dark chest hair that stretched down, down, down to the waistband of his scrub pants.
Robby’s eyes snapped up to meet his intruder, but quickly relaxed when he saw you. “Hey, kid.” He breathed in relief.
You didn’t even hear his greeting over the sound of blood pounding in your ears. His body was an intoxicating view, and you may as well have been inebriated. In this moment, you were no better than a man. You tried to respond, but only broken sputters left your mouth.
Robby’s brow furrowed, and he stepped closer to you, dropping his large hands to your waist to ground you. “Hey, you okay?” He questioned, worried you’d come to find him to vent or cry.
You shuddered at the warmth that radiated from his bare upper body. A timid hand hovered over his chest, finally daring to brush against the coarse hair on his pecs. “Y-you just look…really good.”
The pathetic confession should have made you cower in shame, but when you saw Robby’s smile, you felt safe. “You think I look good? After I just got puked on?” He chuckled.
You nodded slightly, now running your hands firmly against his chest, tracing nonsensical pictures against his skin. “Yeah.” It was the only answer you could spare for him.
Robby’s chest shrunk at your ministrations, almost like he was trying to hide from your attraction. “Gotta get back to work.” He diverted, quickly pulling the fresh black scrub top over his head, hiding his magnificent body from your sight.
Your lips shifted to a pout. “Hey, I was enjoying the view.” You teased, watching as he grabbed the soiled shirt from the ground.
Robby’s face burned red, all the way to the tips of his ears. “I’m fifty years old. Not much to see there.” He replied lightly.
You grabbed him by the arm before he could sneak out of the bathroom. “Let me be the judge of that.” It wasn’t a warning, it wasn’t a threat. But your words still carried authority that overrode Robby’s self-deprecation.
He just smiled, truly smiled, crows feet and crooked teeth and all, and pecked your forehead with a sweet kiss before heading back into the chaos of the Pitt.
—
After a couple of beers in the park drowned away the woes of a grueling shift, you practically dragged Robby back to his home. With the right blood alcohol level, the chief of emergency medicine was suddenly putty in your hands.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Robby grabbed your thighs and hoisted you around his waist, kissing your neck and jawline all the way to his bedroom. You were already clenching around nothing, rolling your hips into his waist, ready for any amount of fucking he was willing to give you for the first time.
Everything progressed quickly, hotly, borderline romantically, until Robby made a quick dash to switch off the light to his bedroom, wearing only his scrub top and boxers. The room darkened with a flick of his fingers, and you almost growled.
“Absolutely not. Lights on.” You demanded.
And he obeyed. The lights relit the room, and you were met with a confused yet worried look on your boyfriend’s face. “You…want the lights on?” He repeated, even though he’d already followed your orders.
You nodded with purpose. “I want to see you.” You answered.
Robby’s face flushed, and he carefully walked back to the edge of the bed, sitting next to you. “Look, I know I’m not the fittest man at work. I mean, fuck, I’m not even the fittest old man at work-“
You pushed Robby back onto the bed, his head flopping onto his pillow while you peeled off your panties. “Take it off.” You breathed.
Robby’s lips morphed to an enchanted grin, charmed by your dominance. His hand reached to his waist, thumb digging under his boxers waistband, but you snatched it out. “Take your shirt off.” You clarified with a sharp tone.
Those big brown eyes never left yours, mesmerized by the authority behind your tone, and he slipped his scrub top over his shoulders, tossing it on the floor. His body was on display for you again, in all of its aged glory. You immediately bent down to smear wet kisses across his pecs, down to his soft tummy, sucking hickeys that drew a mixture of moans and giggles from his throat.
“You don’t have to do all this, kid.” He chuckled, threading a hand through your hair as you worshipped his body.
Your eyes flicked up, nearly glaring at him, before you threw a thigh over his waist, straddling his belly. The scratch of body hair on your pussy fired an immediate hiss from your lungs. “Let me show you how pretty you are.” You said, slowly rocking your hips. “Show you how good you make me feel just by looking at you.”
The slip of your pussy against his abdomen was vile. You received instant clitoral stimulation from his happy trail, and a sinful moan left your lips. Robby’s hands clutched your thighs, dragging you harder against him.
“This…this gets you that wet?” He stumbled through his words, eyes fixed on the wet stripe you were leaving on his stomach.
You glided back and forth, rolling and snapping your hips with a concentrated speed. “Robby…I was this wet when I saw you at work today. I wanted to do this on the bathroom floor.” You confessed.
A whimper left his chest while he tried to buck his own hips, frustrated by the lack of attention to his painfully hardened cock. “Baby, please let me fuck you.” He begged.
You just half-smiled, mouth open in ecstasy, pressing your hands firmly against his chest, steadying your balance as you rode him. “Oh, you’re gonna fuck me.” You confirmed, leaning forward a bit to give your clit just the right amount of pressure. “Wanna come like this first.”
And you did. The waves of your orgasm had you falling limp into Robby’s burly arms, trapping you in his embrace, your cum dripping down his rounded tummy. “Jesus, kid.” He mumbled in between sweet nothings to coax you down from your high.
He wasn’t appalled, and he wasn’t unnerved. He felt loved, and he felt adored. Nobody had ever gotten off on just the sight of his body, let alone rode his belly into an orgasm. After your breathing returned to normal and your kisses became responsive again, Robby flipped you onto your back, and you were presented with his gorgeous body once again.
“My turn.”