Northwest Indiana—August, 2016
I glanced at the text: “Did you bring the sling?”
I had stayed in touch with Don, a ginger haired cock sucker I’d met at an Indiana bookstore last year. He’d also showed up at my motel room, letting himself give in to his desire for skin on skin fucking. (That post is Here.) He was happy I was back in his neighborhood. “Never been in one,” read the next text.
I sent back word that I had indeed tossed the sling in the trunk of my car. I didn’t tell him it was already set up in my hotel room—and had had enough piss flying around it a few nights ago to sink it. We arranged an evening meeting. He could tell his partner he would be with a client. And he would actually be putting his feet in the leather stirrups for the first time.
He’s a little late. I have prepped the room (removed the icky-feeling bedspread and covered the two wall lamps with red bandannas. I push the porn into the computer as I hear his knock on the door.
Don is looking good. What I wrote a year ago is still correct: ‘He’s a good six foot tall, just beginning to carry a little more weight than he’d like, but you can see he’s at the gym regularly to fight it. Maybe 40—no more than 45. The ginger hair is thick on top—and there is a dusting in all the right places.’ We kiss. He jumps in the shower to finish up his prep.
I sit on the foot of the bed. Legs sprawled. I watch Cum Whore, kneading my mound of cock, covered by a very clean white jock. The moment Don is out of the bathroom, still rather damp and steamy, he’s between my legs. He pulls the pouch aside and takes me deep into his mouth. Damn, this guy can suck. He’s an admitted size queen and he knows how to handle a big dick in his mouth. He groans deep in his throat as I bottom out deep in his throat. He pulls back up and does some great tongue work on my piss slit—and then over the entire leaking cock head.
“Damn,” Don pants. “I love you dick.”
“Get up on the bed. All fours. Right here.” I smack edge of the mattress right next to where I’m sitting. I slide to the floor and press my face into the generous globes of ass flesh he presents to me. I find his damp hole. I make it wetter. I tongue fuck him until he grabs a pillow and all but shoves it into his mouth to keep from groaning too loudly.
I renew my oral attack on his hole. I lube my dick as I tongue him. I stand up. I have to really work the head into him.
“I told you my boyfriend doesn’t fuck me anymore.” He grunts as he relaxes his hole. “It barely gets used.”
I silently vow to make sure his hole gets well used tonight. The talking has distracted him. I have bottomed out in his ass. I let him get used to me. My hands massage his shoulders and down his spine. I start to fuck. Slow strokes. Long strokes. Strokes that almost pull out of his hole. Slow and deliberate. And it’s driving him crazy.
“Fuck me,” he says into the pillow case. “Ram my ass.”
I start a slow build—then think, fuck it, and begin slamming into his ass. I watch as Don bites the pillow and makes encouraging grunts to egg me on. I finish off with a swat on his ass with my right hand that reverberates in the tiny room.
“Let’s get you in the sling.”
“How do I do this?” He’s standing at the end of the sling looking at the wide swath of shiny leather. I get him to sit on the edge and lie back.
“Now pull yourself towards me so that wet ass of yours is hanging out over the end.”
He does. His head is now supported by the sling, where it should be. I get his legs in the stirrups. He looks totally comfortable. Totally at home.
“How does it feel?”
“And it naturally spreads you open,” I whisper as I kneel in front of his hot hole. I dive in. It’s my turn to groan. His hole is already puffy from the hard fucking. And wet. He’s a natural luber. I lick it up and dig deeper for more. I reach up and squeeze his cock as I tongue him, seeing if I can get any pre-cum to leak out. When I pull out of his ass, I come up and lick a pearly drop out of his slit. I shove it into his ass. Fuck, I love the idea of his own cum in his hole. I keep licking him for so long, I’m sure it’s all gone, but I don’t care. Don has started jerking after I let go of his dick. I surface another time to mop up his cock head. This time I swab everything I collect into his hole and leave it there. I stand up. We lock eyes and I push in.
“Oh, fuck…” Don’s eyes roll up. He is no longer looking at me. He is in his own personal fuck space. I bat his hand away from his dick. It’s gone down with my invading cock anyway. I start a slow rhythmic fuck. Short, hard strokes. My thin hips are slapping loudly at his full ass.
I stop. I eat his hole out again. I insert and fuck another round.
More eating of the juices his hole is churning out.
“Let’s get some blood back in your legs.” I help to get him up and out of the sling. “You like it?
We drink some water and chat a little more.
Soon he’s riding my cock as he faces me as I lie on the bed.
“Now turn around.” I stay sprawled. He pulls off me and turns. There is a mirror on the opposite wall. Now he can watch himself as he sits on my cock. He can’t take his eyes off my dick entering him. He bounces on my cock—until I hold him still and fuck up into him.
We break again. And it’s time to wind it up—Don has a boyfriend at home.
“I want you to breed me in the sling."
He gets in—like an old pro this time.
I spit into his hole a couple of times.
I stand up and fuck.
A couple of licks at his hole—and I’m there. I insert just in time to breed him. I spasm into his hole. Don grabs his cock and in three quick jerks shoots a load all over himself.
He cleans up carefully—once more in the shower.
We kiss—and he’s gone.
My phone pings. I look at the text. “I just pulled into the driveway and you are seeping out of my ass.”
I get texts all the next day. He’s hooked on the sling. Or my cock. Or both.
We do it all again in the following week.