Ross and His Amazing Rosebud

My Playroom—May, 2019

Ross, my buddy with the largest rosebud of any of my play partners, had been working deep in the Midwest for the last two years.  I had talked to him online occasionally, but not had a chance to open him up.

At the top of May, Ross let me know he was changing jobs and would be swinging by my way on his way home if I had some time.  He caught me right between the doldrums after CLAW and before my abbreviated IML, so it was perfect timing.

I set up the playroom and made sure I had two kinds of lube near each piece of fuck equipment and one tucked in my jock.  Ross arrived on time, did the briefest of touch ups and proudly walked naked out of the bathroom and up the steps to the playroom.  He still looked in great shape—not a gym bod, but one that was taut and muscular from his work.  I followed him up the stairs—leaving just enough room behind him so his ass was all but in my face…

Ross sets his poppers on the bureau.  I am half leaning, half sitting on the fuck bench.  My jock pouch is mounded nicely from looking at that ass on the way upstairs.  My booted feet are placed far enough apart.  He knows just what to do— he kneels on the padded floor between my boots and begins licking the fairly new yellow jock I am wearing—one which will be sent to a reader.  He licks the fabric.

“I miss your old one,” he tells me.

“Your job is to make this new one smell like the old one.”

He redoubles his efforts and gets the pouch good and wet with his saliva.  And some precum from me.  “Mmmmm…” he hums deep in his throat as his tongue finds the leakage from me. 

Ross pulls the pouch off my hardening cock with his teeth.  He deep throats me and get my cock as wet as he did the pouch.  His mouth only leaves my cock to give equal time to my balls.  I love how wet they look when he is done.

I want to taste him.  I can’t wait to lick his hole.  He gets up on the bench and positions himself perfectly.  One touch of my tongue and he opens.  Not fully—just enough to let me poke into him.  He groans.  I slobber on his currently tight hole.

I spit into him, stand up and let my wet cockhead poke into him.  Ross groans again.  He wants no poppers.  He wants to feel me open every inch of his manhole.  I work myself in.  Steady.  No real stops for adjustment.  Just one slow taking of his hole.

“Yes!  I have missed your cock so much.”

I tell him I feel the same about his ass. 

I bottom out.  Now I pause.  For a moment.  And begin to fuck with a slow, deliberate stroke.  Pulling out every inch of my shaft and just leaving that angry red flared cock head in his guts. 

I fuck him hard.  And long.  Soon enough I pull out and have him clean my cock of his ass slime.  Ross loves this—and gets every drop.  I tasted his hole myself.  No wonder he was greedy—it’s delicious.  I fuck some more.  Faster now.  Loud whacks of my pelvis hitting his upturned ass.

Soon I pull out and add the egg headed dildo.  My cock pushes back in—delighting in the feel of the ribbed column on my glans.  He’s full now.  The poppers finally come out.  Ross also begins to squeeze down, milking my cock and the toy in his ass.

I pull out, leaving the toy in place, and let him clean me again.  When he’s done, I lick his ass clean of any stray ass jizz.  I work my fingers in and around the base of the toy.  It feels new and different to both of us. 

The toy comes out.  My tongue goes in.  My beard is covered with his juices.  I eat and lick and spit.

“Shall I push it out?”

“Not yet,” I tell him.  I want to work for it.  And anyway, the rosebud will be bigger after my fist is in him.

We switch to the sling.  I grease my hands up.  I still start with my dick, but I switch to my hands pretty fast.  I rotate the three:  Cock.  Left.  Right.  And back again.  I grab the big toy that vaguely reminds me of a Christmas tree.  He takes the first half as if it were my index finger.  I slowly rotate the toy and he all but pulls it into his ass.  I watch it disappear.  I work a finger around the edge of it.  His is stretched wider now—even then when my wrist is in place.

I do the same thing with the big black butt plug.  He grunts and takes it with ease.  I twist it in him—and beat on the end of it, sending tremors through his entire body.  I pull it out.  The rosebud begins to emerge.  I push it back in with my hand.

I kneel and lick his hole.  I love that we have used coconut oil, instead of Crisco.  Ron is panting, telling me he loves what my tongue is doing to him.  And then it starts.  The rosebud is swelling and pushing into my my mouth.  I tongue it, cleaning all the ridges and creases. 

And just as fast, it disappears—he has pulled it back into himself.

“I want to feed you on the rimseat.”

I love this idea.  I help him out of the sling, drink some water to cleanse my palette and get under the seat.  He lets me take a hit of poppers.  I watch as he sits.  When he is still, I begin a regular rimming.  I poke and prod his now open hole.  I am rewarded with some ass jizz.

The rosebud begins to emerge.  It fills my mouth.  I lick as much as I can—but there is soon too much of it.  I can only breathe through my nose.  Just as I am about to touch his leg, he pulls it back into place.

I have stopped stroking myself—I find this so hot.  I cool down for a second, just eating his hole.  Then he does it again.  My mouth fills.  He cuts off my air—my mouth filled with his insides.  Again, he senses when I need air and pulls it in.

Ross adjusts himself on the seat.  He begins to do something I have never had done—he is pushing his rosebud out on my chin—fucking himself.  Using my beard for even more stimulation.  It is incredible that he has such control of his ass.  I know some rosebudders who can’t pull it in—and here he is fucking my chin with his insides—and making it disappear with every stroke.

I am so close to shooting now.  But he can’t keep it up for too much longer.  We regroup.  I stand up shakily and tell him how hot that was.

Ross gets back in the sling.  “Punch me.”

He’s ready for it.  My fists go in as a fist and come out on each stroke.  Left Right Left.  Over and over again.  I punch him until his butt is worn out. 

But not so worn out he can’t take my load deep in his hole—coating the walls of his ass that had just been outside of his body and fucking my bearded chin.

I think about asking to lick him clean…but decide I’d rather have him take my load home with him.

It has been awhile since Ross has appeared in these pages.  Hit his name in the Labels cloud for earlier adventures.