My Playroom—September, 2016
He had been writing to me for close to a year. And he seemed to have an unerring instinct to send me a message about wanting to get fucked at the moments I was busiest in my real life. He asked if we could hook up the day my Dad went into the hospital last winter. During the summer, I found messages asking whether I was free to fuck when I hadn’t opened the hook up site in 6 or 7 days as I was so busy with work. He asked again to play on the day I was leaving for Canada this September. So I made sure that I got back with him the moment I got home.
In fairly short order we were able to settle on a date. He wanted a pretty simple fuck—with none of the extras I can supply. He was young. I guessed he was attending the university nearby. He wouldn’t send a face pic, but the pictures he did send certainly showed a young man in good shape—tall, a worked out chest and a very large cock with a decided downward curve. He wrote that he was tired of guys approaching him “as nothing but a Big Black Cock” and he needed a big white cock up his trim bubble butt. He was ok with getting fucked bare, but would prefer that I not breed him…
Right on time, Brock rings my doorbell. He has a handsome face, to go along with the handsome body. He looks rather embarrassed as I let him in. We go right upstairs to the playroom. I point to the chest of drawers where he can store his clothes and I go down stairs to strip. I head back upstairs in my bathrobe and with the computer for some porn to play while we fuck around. I catch him, totally naked, looking at all the toys and sexual equipment set out on the other bureau in the room.
“Can guys really take something this big up their asses?” he asks, hefting the biggest dildo I own.
“Not many. That was left here by a regular who could take it like it was nothing more than a breadstick.”
“I’m gonna have trouble taking you, much less that thing.” He puts it back with the others.
“Why don’t you get it hard and see.” My hand points to the section of the padded floor in front of me. Brock gets on his knees. He pulls the jock aside. (I’ve made sure it’s a clean one.) He takes my dick into his mouth. It swells immediately. He pulls back as my cock wants to go right down his throat. He knows how to suck. Brock concentrates on the head, using lots of tongue. Occasionally he takes almost my full length down his throat.
He pulls off, panting. “That’s bigger than your pictures.”
I heft it in my left hand and softly slap it against his cheek. “Isn’t that better than the other way around?”
He opens his mouth to answer and I stick it back in his mouth. I hold him gently in place and begin to fuck his face. He grunts—a sound I can’t tell if it’s good or bad. I look down at his dick—it is drooling heavily, leaving a sticky white mess on the black exercise mat. His dick tells me it’s good.
“Let’s get you up on the fuck bench. I want to eat that ass.”
Brock scrambles up and into place. “Go slow,” he reminds me.
My tongue finds his hole. This makes him reach back and pull his cheeks apart. I spend a long time getting him as wet as possible. I lube my dick as I burrow even deeper into his tight, tight hole that is beginning to relax.
I’m going to try to go in. I stand up. My wet head is right against his pucker. It tightens right back down. I start talking to him, asking him about the last guy he fucked. A fuck bud? Anonymous? Does he have lots of repeats who want that big dick?
Brock answers each question. It relaxes him. And I’m buried inside him. Suddenly he realizes it, too. “How much is in me?”
“Just over half.”
And I inch the rest of it into him. I hold. I fuck. Slow and gentle.
“Can I get off my knees?”
I pull out reluctantly and suggest the sling.
“I’ve never been in one of these either.” I get him into the stirrups. His legs spread that wide, opens his hole, making for an easy re-entry. I fuck. I eat him again and stand up to do some more.
“I need to take a break from that thing.”
I get him out and pour him some water.
I suggest the rim seat. I know he likes my tongue.
“This is new, too.”
I get under. He sits—that full ass is close to smothering me. I poke into him. He can’t stop telling me how deep my tongue is up his hole. I can hear him flogging his big dick. I keep eating, waiting for him to explode any moment.
Without warning he stands up. “Let me ride you.”
I get up and onto the bed. He straddles me, facing me, inching down on my cock. His big piece of meat looks angry and wet. He strokes it once he’s down to my pubes.
It takes no time at all. He is no longer in my room. He’s focused on something above us. And on the sensations in his clinging, tight ass. And in moments my chest is covered with only a load a man in his 20’s can shoot. Huge. And creamy…
A short session (less than an hour). And it seems to have scratched Brock’s itch. He’s not been online since.