My Playroom—September, 2015
I had no other sex in Canada on my trip this year. The cruising park I had often used had a huge construction project happening next door to it and it was technically closed, scaring away any potential cruisers. I did meet up with a man I’d met in previous years in the park. He showed me where to park and we walked into the deserted woods, but the blasting that was happening next to us un-nerved both of us enough that we called a halt to the mutual alfresco blow jobs.
When I got home, it had been long enough since Steamworks, that I was terrifically horny again. I spent what seems to be a productive night at the bookstore. My notes indicate I sucked off three men and “had a threeway”—but what we did and with who is lost to the far hotter memories of Canada. I obviously go to the bookstore and fuck with the same men there far too often…
I do remember my next encounter with pleasure. Ross was making another trip from West Michigan to his home south of Michigan. (His first visit was last month’s ‘A Rosebud By Any Other Name…’). I love repeats, but I am always concerned when I play for a second time with the same man (or men) with so little time after the first meeting—will a second session live up to the first time? I needn’t have worried. We did much the same play as before—using all the playroom’s equipment.
We fucked on the bench and I covered his ass and back with piss.
We moved to the sling. I did something he’d wanted me to do the time before—to piss up his hole. I did it mid fuck. And Ross loved it—how hot it made his ass and how full his butt felt.
I fisted him. Left and right hands. Several toys. The speculum. I ate his rosebud—licking until Ross pushed it into my mouth. I find that so hot. It makes my cock drip.
He fed me his rosebud on the rimseat, too. I expected to be awash in all that piss I’d put up his ass—but his body had absorbed it. But his rosebud went deeper into my mouth than ever.
We went back to the sling—and to the moment I want to write about…
I am rampant from eating Ross’ hole on the rimseat. I can still feel that mass of flesh when he pushed his full rosebud into my mouth. And all the ass juice and pre-cum that came with it. I want to get off—we’ve been playing for hours and now I need to listen to my dick and let it spurt. Once his legs are back in the stirrups of the sling, I sit on the chair. I re-grease my left hand. Fingers cupped, it slides easily into his well-worked hole.
“Oh, give me that hand. Work it!”
I give it a slow turn. I re-grease my right. It replaces the left in his butt. Back to the left hand—and I stand up, working my cock with the greasy right hand. I am still as rigid as when I got up from the rimseat. I slap my solid dick on his balls. I run the cock head over his sack, down his perineum and around the inner side of my imbedded wrist.
“That feels so good.”
“So does this…” I reply as I poke at the inside of my wrist with the cock head, right where it joins the cupped palm buried in his ass. I give a slight thrust forward. My cock joins my hand in his ass.
At first it’s just the first three inches or so. “Look up. Look in the mirror,” I tell him.
It takes a moment for Ross to see why he feels so full. With his eyes riveted to the mirror above the sling, I inch the rest of my cock into Ross. I am now completely in him. Inside, my left hand has formed a fist around my dick.
I move it ever so slightly over my cock shaft.
“Yeah, I’m jerking off inside you. Jerking off inside your ass.”
I move again. It takes so little movement to make him jump. And it’s a huge mind fuck for me—fucking my cock through my fingers deep inside him.
“Are you going to cum in me?”
“Do you want me to?”
Ross is breathing heavily. “You—you know I do.”
I fuck my cock head through my fist again.
“I loved going home with your seed inside me,” he murmurs as he takes a hit of poppers.
I pick up a little speed, working just my cock head through my fingers. I am so close to shooting.
“I am going to fill you so full,” I tell him. “I haven’t shot in six days.”
“Give it to me.”
“What did you say?”
“Give it to me. Shoot it deep.”
My fingers skate across the hot flesh of my dick and the equally hot walls of his ass.
“Oh, fuck…” I grunt out.
I shoot. Deep and intense.
“Felch it. Let me feel you eat it out!”
It takes a moment, but after I work my dick and then my hand out of him, I hunker down to taste my handiwork…