Wednesday, July 22, 2015

"You Know What I Want"

Fort Wayne—May, 2015

Early in the month, I headed to Roger’s house.  In April, Roger had been my roommate at CLAW.  We had played separately so much in Cleveland, that we both wanted another session of just us.  I sent him a text that I was on his way to his immaculately appointed house.  My phone dinged as I got in the car.  I looked at his text:  “You know what I want.”

We have greeted each other.  I have set up my rimseat in a corner of the office where his sling is filling almost all of the available space.  I have drunk some of his piss.  I have drunk even more Gator-ade.  I have fucked him.  And now his ass has closed around the egg-headed dildo.  I slide the slender shaft that the egg sits on all the way into his ass.  I push the end down slightly with my left hand.  My rampant dick is ready and waiting.

“You want me to add my dick?” I rasp out.

“Yes.  Give it to me…”

I lean forward and my cock starts to disappear up his already opened ass.

“Double fuck,” I murmur.

“I feel so full,” he mumbles after a hit of poppers.  “You going to give me what I want?”

“I will,” I tell him as I bottom out in his ass, “but not yet.”

I hold in place from the wide entry of the double fuck.  My Gator-ade is on the television cabinet right by my left hand.  I take a deep swig.  I begin to fuck.  I love how the underside of my flared cock head travels across the ridges in the shaft on the dildo below me—and how it feels the hot, wet channel of flesh above my hardness.  I saw into him, pushing the toy still deeper into his little used ass.

I fuck with the toy in place.

I fuck with just my dick.

I fuck with two, then three, fingers filling the void where the toy has been.

The popper bottle is open and constantly under his nose.  He’s incoherent now, but the look in his eyes is telling me everything I need to know about his enjoyment of what is happening. 

His need. 

His shift from always having to top to finally becoming just like the bottoms he loves to use.
My left hand disappears into him.  My cock plunges right back in—letting the fingers of my hand grasp it in his ass.  Our eyes connect again as I jerk off in his butt.

“Oh…fuck…fuck  me.” 

“I love to jerk it in your tight hole.”
He answers me with a groan.  Then: “Give it to me.  You know what I want.”

I simply smile, and looking right at him, shake my head.  “Not yet.”

I take another huge swig of Gator-ade and work my cock some more.

I pull my dick out.

And begin a two handed stretch of his hole.


He has taken both my fists.  But not quite both of them together.  My cock has been in him at repeated intervals.  He has spent some time sitting on the rimseat, while I massage his ravaged hole with my tongue.

Now we are back in the sling.  I have not pissed once since we began play, ninety minutes ago.  My bladder is screaming for release.  I take another swig and enter him.

“You still want it?”

“Fuck, yes.  Give me what I want.”

I stop fucking for a millisecond to get going. 

I wait.

It’s there.

I am pissing.  Gushing.  And fucking as I do it.

I pull all the way out and push all the way back in.  I cover his ass and abs and the tarp below. I am doing it on every stroke.  Just like his favorite piss fuck in the porn he owns.  All the way out.  All the way in.  His ass heating up with each pissing.  He is matted with clear piss and in some form of pig heaven.

Roger is awash—inside and out.  His ass can’t hold much more.  I plow into him one last time with the stream softening to a trickle.  I stay deep inside him.

“Fuck, that was incredible.”

It was indeed.  The best I’ve ever managed.  I fleetingly wish for a video camera.

But then I come back to reality, feeling the mega amount of hot liquid around my cock.  I slowly pull out.

I’m pretty sure that hunkering down and drinking some from his ass will make my cock spew its load.

I’m right.

I get it back into him just in time.

Roger lazily strokes his piss covered cock and murmurs, “You know exactly what I want…”

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