Sunday, April 28, 2013

CLAW Day Two--Throwing the Pup a Bone

Cleveland—April, 2013

I was up earlier than I wanted to be.
I left the warehouse at about 3am.  I was hoping to sleep in.  I hadn’t counted on the descent of the maid service at 7:20am.  I’d remembered to put my Do Not Disturb sign out so no one knocked on my door, but I was awakened by hooting and hollering as carts collided in the outer hallway.  Clean sheets were tossed, room numbers doled out at full voice and my door acted as a conduit to it all.  I pulled a pillow over my head, but it was no good.  I was awake.  And Hungry.  After expending all that energy last night, I gave up on sleep and pulled on my flight suit to go down to the complimentary breakfast buffet.

There is little else like looking up from your plate of the obligatory scrambled eggs and catching the eye of the man who had pissed a river down your throat just 5 hours ago.  He grinned.  I smiled.  And my cock twitched as I remembered the taste of his recycled gin and tonic.
I went upstairs with an extra coffee and wrote up the Warehouse post.

I got dressed and went to the main hotel.  I was too early for the vendor mart by 20 minutes.  I killed time looking through the silent auction items.  And there he was.  Jayson Park was sitting reading the CLAW yearbook.  We hug.  We talk about the man he’s meeting for the weekend.  We talk about my night last night.  We agreed to see if we can meet up later.
I do the leather mart, making some notes for later shopping.

A sandwich. 
And I’m ready to fuck.

I contact the boy who has been so hot to jump in the sling for a piss fuck while we were six states apart. But I can hear it in his voice, he’s not that excited, at least right now.  We agree to meet at the Warehouse party instead.  (He never shows.)
I get online.  Many CLAW guys, while online, are not in town yet on this Friday afternoon.  The locals who write me all have an excuse when we get down to it-- too early, too late, or the lack of parking in the city.  I am ready to sign off when I catch a newly posted quick connect on bbrt.  A youngish looking man is looking for loads in the host hotel.  It takes just two exchanges and I walk back to the Hilton armed with his room number.

I knock. 

The boy looks just like his pictures.  He’s late 30’s, with dark, longish hair.  Jake is shirtless, showing off a trim build, without any hint of being muscular.  The room has two unmade double beds.  And enough hardware laid out on the television table for a yard sale.  His Master is into edge play.  And he must like his puppies.  There are two dog’s tail butt plugs, tucked half under the screen, as well. 
We kiss lightly.  He removes his gym shorts.  His tiny penis gets hard as I remove my boots.

The door opens.
It’s his Master.  And the number two boy who lives in this triad.  They get dressed to go out to dinner as I remove the rest of my clothes and Jake settles between my legs to suck my cock.  For a moment it’s hard for me to concentrate on the task at hand with the Master chatting away to number two, but soon my cock takes over.

Jake comes up for air. 
“Call us when you are ready for dinner.”  And they are out the door.

Alone, I get Jake on all fours.  I kneel and eat out his hole.  He is fresh from the shower.  The hair surrounding his asshole is still damp.  I am rampant.  I work slowly into him.  He gasps, but takes my cock like a pro—until the last 2 inches.  He pulls away—as if I’d shoved a cattle prod up his butt.
“I’m not used to big dick.”  He pulls me down on the bed and sucks me.  When I am covered in his spit, he sits on me.  Again, he’s doing great when he’s bouncing on just half of me.   I thrust up.  He is off me in a heartbeat.  He rolls over, his face in the pillows.  I eat his freshly fucked hole.  He’s a self luber and he tastes great.  I work in again, slowly, with him flat on the bed.  I don’t use my full length—don’t even try—and get a good fuck rhythm going.  He grabs some expensive poppers.  He huffs.

“Give it all to me.”
I do.  Every inch.

“Oh, man….”  He inhales some more, but doesn’t pull off me.  “Fuck me hard.”
I do.  He begins to yip like the puppy he is.  His puppy mask sits on the back of the overstuffed chair by the window.  I fuck until I need to catch my breath.

I apologize that I’m not a great pump and dump guy---my fuse is way too long.  He assures me he’s in no rush.  Now that he can take me, he rides me again.  Bouncing and growling in his pup voice.
Then it’s back to doggy style---his ass at the edge of the bed so I can stand and drive it home.  He growls—and I realize to my amazement—I am going to shoot.

“I’m going to load you.”  He pants hard and grinds his ass back onto me.  I shoot.  It feels like a nice load—considering how much I shot last night.
He pulls off my cock and licks me clean.  “Thank you—what a great 40th birthday present.” 

I give him a long birthday kiss.
I go home. 

And sleep away the rest of the afternoon.

(To be continued…)


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