Near Home—January, 2015
The three of us had to head home on New Year’s Day due to Ryan’s work schedule. Marco stayed at my house until the end of the week. We had two more fisting sessions before he left. I thought it was interesting that these two always hungry pigs did not play that first night when we got back to my house. We were still so sated from the party the night before. The two times we did play were almost carbon copies of our session before we took off to Chicago, though I did not go quite as deep into his muscled hole.
Marco took off on Saturday morning. I was ready for the bookstore that evening. It turned out to be a very active Saturday night…
I am watching a mediocre movie on the gay side of the cinema. The movie may not be keeping my attention, but the thirty-something cub who is sitting across from me certainly is. He has his jeans open and is kneading his cock under his underwear. He’s slightly stocky, with dark blond hair and a gingery beard. He keeps looking at my cock. I am showing it off. I stroke slowly, occasionally taking my hand away and reaching for my water bottle on the floor. But the cub makes no move to indicate he wants to do more than look at it.
The door opens.
A tall lanky guy in his 40’s enters. He crosses directly to the Cub and sits in the chair on his right. Instantly, the Cub is on his knees in front of the new arrival. Dammit. I’ve just lost. I watch the Cub open the man’s pants and pull out an above average cock. It disappears down the throat of the Cub. I look at the screen. And stroke.
“You want to fuck my boyfriend?” It’s the lanky guy talking. “He says you’re hung.”
I shrug and show him my cock.
Lanky Guy stands and pulls the Cub to his feet. “Get those jeans off and bend over.” The Cub shucks off his pants and his underwear. He stands in his stocking feet, his sweatshirt stopping just above the swell of his naked ass. “Bend over for the man.” Again the Cub complies. He braces himself on the chair, his ass jutting towards me. Lanky Guy waves me over and moves around to keep feeding the Cub his cock.
I kneel behind the Cub. His ass is hairy and the crack a tangled forest. I lick the length of his cleft before I zero in on his hole. I leave his wet and ready.
“Just fuck him.” Lanky guy sounds bored that I would want to revel in the rimming I am giving his boyfriend—and that the Cub is obviously enjoying.
I stand up and slap my cock against the furry ass—making sure Lanky Guy sees the length of it—and that I am going into his boyfriend raw. I push into the wet hole. The Cub grunts around the cock in his mouth.
“Take it,” says Lanky Guy.
I start a hard pounding, hard enough to push the Cub down on Lanky Guy’s cock.
“You like that, Boy?” Lanky Guy rubs the bobbing head of the Cub. “Daddy is being good to you, right?” The Cub grunts his agreement. Lanky Guy reaches across his boy’s back and swats his hairy ass. Hard. It makes the Cub constrict his ass.
And it makes me shoot.
I can’t believe it—I’ve only been fucking for mere moments. It’s not a gut wrenching orgasm, but I empty a lot of cum deep inside him.
Lanky Guy looks pleased. “I’ll be using that when we get home. Thanks.”
They do themselves up and leave to go fuck in my load in the comfort of their home.
I decide to stay. I have rarely gotten off so fast, I mean in the first 10 minutes of being there? I’m the guy that does four hours at the CLAW play parties. I go to the straight side when there are no new arrivals. It’s a nastier movie playing here and my cock surprises me; it hardens right back up.
I stroke for a bit. All alone. I hear sounds through the vent in the wall that separates the two cinemas. I wait a moment then go over to investigate. Two men are there. I can’t see much about the one sitting quite close to the television screen—just a man wearing a knit cap. Sitting in one of the two chairs against the back wall there is a broad chested blond. He could be anywhere from 35 to 45. He is sitting rather primly, hands folded in his lap. He tries to stare at the screen. But he can’t take his eyes off me. I can see that flash of desire—that he now tries to cover by looking down at his well-manicured hands.
I can sit in the seat I was in before. Or I can sit right next to him. I choose the back wall…
I hear his intake of breath as I sit down. Another as I unbutton my pants. And one more as I pull my hard cock out.
I look over at him. Our eyes meet. We hold it for longer than is comfortable for him.
I break our gaze and look at the screen. And jerk.
I look again. He swiftly turns to look at the screen, but I know he was looking at my dick.
I ignore him.
Then I do it again. A quick look and I catch him kneading his crotch as he looks at mine. He looks away but he knows he’s busted.
I reach over and grab his left wrist. He turns back to me, looking as if I have applied an electric current to his arm. I pull it to my crotch. I make him cup my balls. He pulls it back into his own lap. I reach again. His sweaty palm cradles my nuts. He swallows hard. I grab the lube bottle out of my shirt pocket and drip two drops onto my cock head.
“Now jerk it.”
I watch the inner turmoil on his rather handsome face.
Then: a whispered “Yes, Sir.”
I have to instruct him to slow down. To include the head of my cock in the stroke. To not hold me in a death grip. But he takes direction well.
“Use that precum.”
His fingers obediently swipe over my piss slit and add it to the slick shaft. It’s beginning to feel better. But I want to play.
I stand up. I look at the mix of terror and wonder in his eyes. I bring my hard shaft towards his face. I slap him across the cheek with it. He gasps. My cock leaves a slug like trail of precum on his five o’clock shadow. And again.
“Now open your mouth.”
“I don’t…” but he gets no farther. I push just the head into his mouth. His tongue instinctively lashes up to lick it. I pull it out. “No…please…”
“You don’t want this dick?” My voice is a low whisper. “You wanted it the moment I walked in the door.”
“Please, don’t make me suck your cock. Please.”
I stick it in again—looking for true resistance. There is none. His tongue is betraying his words. He has sucked dick before—I’ll swear it.
I pull it out again and smear his face with the mixture of saliva and pre-cum. If I needed proof, I can see the tent in his dress pants. I now turn it into a true skull fuck. I hold his ears and pump about half my length into him. I pull out.
“Please stop...” He is almost whimpering. And he knows it’s egging me on. A wet spot forms on his tented pants.
“I am going to cum all over your face,” I tell him.
I face fuck him again.
“Where do you want my load?” My voice is still low, but commanding.
He cringes for a moment.
“Where?” I ask again.
“Blow in my mouth.”
I slap his face with my cock one last time and will myself to cum. And I blow—at least three sizable blasts and then a dripping faucet that won’t turn off.
I lean in and whisper in his ear. “Good boy.” He nods. There is a trail of cum, from when I pulled out, trickling down his chin. “Don’t let me see you spit that out.” He shakes his head. He opens his mouth wide to show me that he has swallowed it all. I swipe my fingers across his chin, mopping up the cum. He knows just what to do. He suckles them clean.
The spot on his pants is now huge. I’m pretty sure he blew his own load when I blew mine.
I tuck myself into my jock.
He looks up at me.
Guilt and pleasure—all over his face. It’s his turn to whisper—so soft I can hardly hear it.