Waiting On the Couch

Battle Creek— June, 2013

 My summers are so busy with work that they give me very little time to play.  The beginning of June finds me excited about the challenges on the job but with a slight panic at the thought of no (or very little) play. This year was no different.

When I got home from IML I had about eleven days before I had to pack away the playroom.  I really wanted to get Dean, the hot top who bottoms for me, on my new fuckbench.  We chatted online and found that we both had time to play, but only if I went to his house.  Playing with him was far more important than where we played, so we set a meet for 10:00am the next day.

I sent him a text as I left saying I was on my way.

Dean wrote back:  Just come in when You arrive Sir.  Door is unlocked for You.

Four minutes later I got another:  This boy is napping on the couch, ready for You Sir. 

Twenty minutes later I pulled into his wide driveway.  I walked into the front door.  The couch was dead ahead…

 

He’s there.  Sprawled face down on the couch.  His legs are pointed toward me, slightly spread.  He is wearing a white A-shirt and new Neoprene shorts.  They cling to his ass.  I take in his hairy legs.  His muscled arms are bent and under his head.  I lock the door and set my bag down quietly.  I kneel.  My hand goes to his ass and I kiss the back of his neck.  He murmurs and grinds his ass up to my kneading fingers.  Eventually he turns over and we kiss.  Our tongues do a wonderful give and take with each other.  I can’t get enough.  Our lips stay locked as our fingers go marauding over the other’s body.  My hand ends up under the waistband of his shorts.  I play around Dean’s hole, my fingers just brushing across it.

He’s now naked.  My shirt is off.  My cock is out and wet from his mouth.  I roll off the couch and sink my face into his hairy ass.  Dean groans loudly.  I poke and prod my tongue deeply into him.  Dean pulls me around to kiss me.  We go back and forth—sometimes he sucks my cock and then brings his mouth to mine; sometimes I eat his ass and then stick my tongue as deep into his mouth as it has been in his hole. 

I don’t know how long we stay upstairs.  I know neither of us want to stop this oral exploration of each other’s bodies.  Eventually we go downstairs to his play area in the corner of his laundry room. 

“I have something for you.”

I stop retying my boot, having just removed my jeans.  “Oh?”

“Some piss.” 

I can’t believe it.  He’s never been able to feed me his piss.

He grins.  “I’ve been practicing like you told me.”

I kneel and take his cock into my mouth.  It takes a moment, but soon he’s gushing down my throat.  Dean doesn’t try to control it—he just opens the tap and lets it flow.  It tastes sweet, though slightly strong.  The head rush for me is intense.  I can’t get over that he conquered being pee shy just for me.  I swallow it all, then suck his cock to hardness.  We kiss.  He loves the flavors in my mouth.    I hold the back of his head in my hand.  I don’t want to let go.

I eat his ass on his wooden, sort of tippy, fuckbench.  I piss on his ass and lick it clean.

There is a chain that hangs over our heads, stretching from one side of the room to the other.  “I have something new from IML, too,” I tell him.  I ask him to hold onto the chain as I blindfold him with a black bandana.  I put on my new police examination gloves.  They are of the thinnest possible leather.  My hands are all over him.  One gloved hand works his sensitive nipples.  My tongue works his ear.  My hand goes into his mouth so he can taste the leather.  My leathered hand swipes around his pit—then back to his mouth.  I press against his back so he can feel my cock in his ass crack.  A gloved finger goes in his ear, across his shaved scalp, down over the blindfold into his mouth again.  A slight trail of moisture is left as it traces his strong jaw line, down his throat and back to his nipple.  I move around to his front side to kiss him.  My gloved fingers now explore his ass crack—poking at his hole, kneading his ass cheeks.  My tongue is either in his mouth or on his nipples or working his pits.  I bring a finger up to his mouth to taste his sweaty ass crack.  He suckles the leather.  We kiss again as the wetter finger returns to his ass.

“Please fuck me.”

Dean is in the sling.  I enter him carefully.  We fuck.  Our eyes are locked.  I can’t stop watching his face as it registers the forward momentum of my cock sliding into him.  I hold.  Then I pound him.  I want him to feel me all day.

“I’m so close,” Dean pants.

“Me, too.”

I fuck the cum out of him.  He shoots a glob of semen with each of my thrusts.  After five or six, I pull out and coat his balls with my jizz.

I lean across him and we kiss—tender and gentle.  Neither of us want to stop and return to the workaday world.

But we do.

Once I get home, I shoot him a text, telling him how I can still smell him in my goatee and how I’m not going to wash it all day.

Dean texts back:  I just had a very tasty bowl of Cheerios!  Your smell is still in my stache…

I grin, inhale deeply and go into work…