My Playroom—December, 2016
On all my hook up ads, I have called myself a Full Service Top from the very first. Any causal reader certainly should agree that I know my way around an ass. I have been told I’m an excellent fister. I love all sorts of watersports—and I know how to use it for sensuous enjoyment or as a way to humiliate a sub. I know how to flog. I am adept at cock and ball torture having been tutored by a man who loved to have his balls beaten black and blue. I am excellent at role playing—though I don’t get much call for it. I have a number of things in my playroom to make nipples much more sensitive. I am good to go if a husband takes me home to fuck his wife—or fuck him in front of her—or both.
I know I have much to learn involving BDSM and I will be a willing student (are you reading this Derrick and Jeffrey??). The one thing I knew I didn’t need to do was to feed scat. I have had a number of men ask—and I thought I might go there at first. I usually believe you need to try things to know if you like it, but I realized there was nothing sexual for me in that activity and I was quite content to leave it alone.
But you have something new? Let’s talk about it. At the top of December, I got an email…
He arrives ten minutes late. I was on the verge of writing him off. He rings the bell carrying an immense gym bag.
I let him in. He is a good 10 years older than his pictures, but I merely sigh under my breath. I could wish that it was only 10 pounds heavier than those same pictures, but no, it’s a good deal more than 10. He starts talking and digging into the bag.
“Did you bring them?” I ask.
“I’m just getting them. We need to sterilize the set. You have a big pot?”
The “them” are sounds. I have never done any urethral play but I’m more than willing.
I am picturing the short silicone ones I’ve seen for sale, that are vaguely the size of big golf tees. So I get out a sauce pan that will hold them. My new play partner arrives in the kitchen. He hands me an immensely long leather kit. I open it. They are metal—and a good 15 inches long.
I find a jelly roll pan and we boil them on top of the stove.
I get them on a clean towel with a pair of tongs and— still too hot to touch—we go up to the playroom.
“Now,” he says. “You want to try these up that big dick of yours?”
“I thought I was using them on you.”
“Sure, sure. Just thought I’d offer.” He hops in the sling.
I put on latex gloves. I kneel. We start with the smallest sound. I lube it up. I am told to grip his cock (fairly typical in size—maybe slightly thicker) so my thumb helps push the piss slit open. The end goes easily into his piss slit. I work it maybe and inch into him. This is striking me as very medical…I mean, I’m the guy that looks anywhere else but at my arm when a nurse is drawing blood for my HIV test…
“Try the next one.” I do the same thing. He huffs poppers and is no longer telling me anything. There is a bend to the sounds and I don’t know which side should be facing me. So I ask. I get no answer. I get “Go deeper.” I try. Maybe two inches into him. I am now feeling light headed.
“I don’t know if I this a good idea…”
“Skip the third one and get the fourth. I want to feel it.”
I put the sound down and concentrate on the towel on the floor. I stare at until I feel in control again.
I pick up the fourth. I lube it. I have to really work to get this bigger tip into his small piss slit.
“Now go deep,” he grunts.
I start down his dick. Maybe three inches. I stop.
“I want to feel it way lower.”
He takes it from my fingers and I watch it go in another inch or so. I have to look away. I get off my knees and sit down. I don’t quite put my head between my legs, but it’s close. I could easily pass out if I let myself.
I finally tell him I can’t do more.
We move on to my hands up his ass. He has no interest in my dick. And that’s likely a good thing. He'd never have felt it. The speculum, usually a tight fit in any man, falls out of him. Literally, as I am reaching for a toy.
I am able to put both fists up him. Together.
He goes home happy.