The Trip to Chicago for the Fornication Party

 On the Road to Chicago—August, 2026

 

It was the day of the Fornication Party in Chicago.  I was stoked.  I was looking forward to seeing Keshawn.  I had also been in touch with the hot-assed man who had purchased my well used jock.  Hell, I wanted to be in a room of gay men who were there to fuck—and not to scroll through their phones!

I couldn’t settle all morning.  I knew that it was a three-hour (sometimes three and a half hour) drive.  Plus, I wanted to get there in time to eat my packed supper and take a little catnap.  The days of driving a long distance and playing hard for three hours, without that little rest and re-fueling, are past.

At noon, I got in the car.  It was still very early to hit the road but I couldn’t wait.  I had packed lunch and dinner.  To use up some of the extra time, I decided to stay off the expressway.  There is a scenic state highway that goes at a south-westernly diagonal from my town to the top of western Indiana.    A lot of farm country and small towns.  It’s not fast—but it would get me to where I could join the expressway to get me into town.

I was happy to be moving.  And it was great to not be on I-94, with all the angry drivers who didn’t like me actually doing the speed limit.  I was happy on my scenic two-lane road.

Fifty miles or so in, as I was coming around a curve, there was a dead raccoon in the middle of my lane.  I couldn’t swerve into the oncoming traffic.  I tried to swing right, but I was still on top of it.  There was a terrific clunk—but then all was fine for a minute before there was a loud thud.  I knew what it was—I had dealt with same thing years ago—the plastic, protective under carriage was loose.  I made it to the side of the road.  I looked under and it was folded back on itself.  I reversed and backed up a foot, straightening it out.  I thought I had wire in the trunk.  But did I have tools?

I went to look.

“Are you alright?”  It was a thirty-something young woman.  “I have a phone.”

“I have one, thank you.  I am just seeing if I can get this reattached.  If not, I will call AAA.”

“Okay, I was worried.”  She chatted a little more as I rummaged in the trunk before she asked once again before driving off. 

“Can I help?”  It was a man my age and build who I had seen pull into the drive of the sole house in this area.  He looked under the front of the car and said “You can fix this with some wire.  Ya got any?”

“Yes,” I said—as I’d just found it.  “But I’m not sure I have a cutter.”

“I do and I have better wire.  Be right back.” He walked rapidly across the street and was soon back with it.  Meanwhile, I had found the holes in the plastic—and the holes in the frame of the car where they needed to go.

As the older man returned, a third guy stopped.  He wondered if we needed a phone.  He stayed to chat with the older guy.  I thanked the older man and began to cut the wire.

A fourth car arrived, parking on the side of the road ahead of me.  A  rather hot young guy got out, saw the problem and said:  “I have zip-ties.  They will be so much easier.”

He came back with them and was on his back before I could say anything.  He rigged it up quickly and expertly.  The other two guys were as impressed as I was.  In moments, he had it safe secured back to the car frame.  “That should get you home,” he said.  “but you might not want to use the expressways, if you can help it.

I thanked him profusely and offered him cash.  He laughed, waved it away and drove off. 

“Take care going home,” said the man who’d gone off for wire.  I thanked him, too and made sure he took his wire cutters home.  The talker waved and got in his vehicle with a “Watch out for the coons…dead or alive.”

I got in my car.  I sat in the sunshine, a little stunned.  There really are good people, men and women that want to help—and this was a huge reminder for me.

I was also thankful that it had not happened on the expressway—it might have had a very different outcome.  I hated that I wasn’t going to get to play in Chicago—but I was still counting my other blessings.

I started the car, waited for traffic to clear and turned towards home…

Surprises at the Bookstore

Near Home—August, 2026

(I am back and feeling better.  It was a 24 hour something…)

 

The Fornication Party was coming up—and just the idea of it made me really horned.  I knew that with the party on Sunday, I wanted to not play at all on Saturday.  But Friday night was a different story.  I went out, looking to see what trouble I could get into…

 

I go into the darkened theatre.  The first thing I see is a burly, bearded bear lazily jerking a younger man.   I sit to the side of them.  The bearded bear stops the moment I sit down.  I look at the younger guy and recognize him. 

Years ago, back in the two theatres days, this young man had asked me if guys really can get their cock sucked here.  I had assured him that he was good looking and if he went into the gay theatre he’d have no problem.  He did as I suggested and, quite a bit later, I went over to see if he was still there.  He was.  He’d gotten sucked—but all of the men had tapped out before he could shoot.  I hunkered down and blew him to completion.  He has let me suck him every time we bump into each other from that day on.

I nod and he brushes away Bearded Bear’s hand.  He looks right at me and spreads his legs.  I go over and start to work.  Bearded Bear is not pleased.  He watches for a moment and then with a harrumph of disgust, he moves nearer the gay screen.  I work on the young guy for a long time.  His balls are really flavorful on this hot August day.  His cock is not huge, but longer than average—and thin enough that my tongue can be very active all over it.  He moans contentedly and lets me get on with it.

Ten minutes later, he assures me is getting closer.  I work easily another five minutes on him.  My knees are killing me, but if I take a rest break and come back for him, it will be like starting from scratch again.  I power through and am soon rewarded with a delicious big load.  He squirms, begging me under his breath to stop as I clean up any stray cum—and soon leaves a much happier camper.

I stay in the dark corner and stroke my dick.  Bearded Bear returns to my line of sight.  He sits and gives me a glance.  He likes the look of my dick, but he makes no move for it.  I stroke.  He gropes himself

The Voyeur arrives.  He sits between us and pulls out his long, thin ebony cock.  He strokes—looking from one to the other of us.  My knees are still aching, so I let Bearded Bear do him.  He kneels and sucks, making lots of hot, wet noise.

Soon, The Voyeur tells him to sit in the chair.  He begins fucking Bearded Bear’s face.  Hard.  I assume he’s about to cum.  He pushes in deep—and it’s too much.  I hear BB retch.  He gets up and heads to the restroom.  The Voyeur waves his dick in my direction as if I must want to suck a cock that has just been gagged on.  I give it a pass.  The Voyeur gets busy on his phone across the room.

The door opens and the Minute Man walks in.  He sits on the wall opposite me.  I don’t think he can see me in the dark corner.  He kneads himself.

The door opens again.  A very handsome young man walks in.  I have seen him before, but we’ve never played.  He sits down near the gay screen, out of my line of sight.  But in moments, Minute Man gets up and disappears into the same corner.  Is he going to give his 90 second load to the young man?

I wait a moment.  The Voyeur sees what’s happening out of my line of vision and moves towards it.  I get up and go, too.

I am dumbfounded.  The Minute Man is on his knees sucking the Cute Young Man, while CYM is stroking The Voyeur, before he decides to take him in his mouth as he sits there high on poppers.  Now, I have been around Minute Man for years and I’ve never seen him perform a blow job.  He’s only let other’s blow him for his one to two minutes, depending.

Cute Young Man pulls off The Voyeur, takes another hit of his brown bottle and goes back to sucking him with abandon.  But the fumes make CYM’s dick wilt.  Minute Man is unhappy.  He stands up, sees me and comes over.  I take care of him in less than 90 seconds.  Bearded Bear has taken over trying to get some life back into CYM’s cock.

I swallow the load.  Minute Man pulls out of my mouth and takes off.  I watch the trio.  I am on the edge of standing up to join them when The Voyeur starts to cum in the CYM’s mouth.  CYM pulls off him letting the cum spray all over his face and on his shirt collar.  It’s hot and unexpected.

The Voyeur cleans up and goes.  Bearded Bear keeps working, but Cute Young Man tells him his dick isn’t going to harden up again.  CYM heads to the restroom—and then home.

I watch porn. 

Sometimes in the company of Bearded Bear, but more often alone.

I call it a night.  The evening has just made me hornier for the Fornication Party.

Some Pictures...while I crawl back into bed...

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Kane Comes to the Playroom and Gets Wet

 My Playroom—August, 2026

 

The next Sunday, I got an early morning text from Kane, the hot young man with the perfectly rounded, hairy ass.  He was going to the beach on Lake Michigan—and realized he would be driving right by my house.  Did I have the time for a quick fuck and send him on his way with a load of cum in his butt?

I have tried to get his hot ass to my playroom on numerous occasions, but it has always been easier to meet him at a venue halfway between our homes.  I instantly said that I had all morning.  He told me a he’d see me at 11 o’clock. 

I went to the kitchen and started melting the coconut oil…

 

Kane and time can be a relative thing.  He is often late, but today, the doorbell goes off at 11:01am.  After a quick hug, I take him down the steps to the playroom.  I love watching the look on men’s faces as they see the playroom for the first time.  His face keeps lighting up as he looks around the room.  He strips down fast and I get his clothes off the bed to the chair by the door.  I hang my robe up and sit on the flattened fuck bench.

“Now come suck Daddy’s dick…”              

My cock is hard and sticking out of the side of the yellow jock pouch.  He kneels in front of me and takes me into his mouth.  My cock is already drooling.  He gives a little moan as his tongue swipes over it.  He takes me to the root, holds it and then pulls off me.  There is a rope of deep throat spittle connecting us.  I use my fingers to wind it around my shaft before he does it again.

“Lick my balls.”

He does.  Gently and obediently.   They go into his mouth one at a time—and come out feeling wet and ready.

I get up and have him climb up onto the table.  His ass looks perfect when he’s on all fours.   It is gorgeously rounded.  He occasionally shaves it, but today the black hair is running riot all over his butt—and especially in the crack.  His ancestors must come from somewhere in the Mediterranean—but I’ve never bothered to inquire specifics, I just revel in what they have given him.

I kneel and dig in.  He groans and the poppers come out.  I lick up and down the deep cleft between the two full globes.  I finally burrow into his tight sphincter.  My hands have to pull apart his full cheeks so I can get as deeply into him as I want. He moans even louder as I begin to tongue fuck him.

I lube my dick with the warm coconut oil.  I stand up and work my way into his hole.  Damn, he’s tight today.  He pants as I inch into him.  I bottom out and hold.  I look at Kane in the mirror in front of us.  He’s found the mirror on the side wall—and has been watching my dick disappearing into him. 

 “Fuck me, Daddy.  Make me feel it.”

I begin a slow in and out.  His ass begins to loosen as I plunge into him.  I build up the speed of the drilling.  Kane pants; so do I.  I pull out and bring my wet cock back to his mouth.  He loves ATM and cleans me up, reveling in the taste of his hole—just as I had done moments before. 

I kneel and taste his freshly fucked hole.  It makes my dick even harder if that’s possible.  I fuck him again.  Harder.  More deliberately.  Once again, he licks me clean of the heady mix of coconut oil, ass jizz and precum.

We move to the sling.  It is so good to finally see him in my sling.  He loves how roomy it is—and the mirror above him.  I spend some time on my knees eating his hole, keeping it open and ready for my dick.  I stand up and slide in.  It’s a better angle now—and he takes the last three quarters of an inch of me that he couldn’t on the bench.  I fuck, looking at his face.  Not quite believing my good fortune.

To give my dick a break, I try the Seahorse on him.  He likes the feel of it, but he’s so tight today he does not even take half the toy.  I toss it on the toweled floor and use the real thing—a deep in and out.

“Do you have any piss?” he mumbles. 

This is new for us, but he’d mentioned it in his early morning text. I’ve hydrated.  I pull out and piss gushes over his just-fucked hole.  He groans.  His big dick thickens up and he strokes.  I finally knock his hand away so he doesn’t shoot.

I go to my knees and begin to lick up my piss.  His super hairy crack has caught so much it.  I lick him clean as he occasionally strokes his cock.  “So hot…” he groans.

I stand up.  My oily dick slides into him.  He gasps.

“Can you piss me in me?”

I nod.  His hand flies over his cock.  “Oh, shit…”  He’s shooting before I can even start pissing.  I catch his jizz with my left hand.  I soon have a huge puddle of it there.  I bring it up and he watches me lick my hand clean—while I keep pumping.

“I—I can’t take much more…after I shoot…”

I pull out.  I go to my knees and smear some of his jizz on the piss-soaked hairy cleft.  I begin drilling my tongue into him while I jerk.  The wet hairy ass is taking me over the edge incredibly fast.  I stand up and shoot all over his hole. 

Our eyes are locked as my left-hand fingers some of my jizz into his tight hole…

"Can You Drop Your Pants?"

 Near Home—August, 2026

Lately, the Friday nights at the local bookstore had been really fun.  In the last few weeks there had been more men visiting on a Friday than on a regular night—and with more variety of what those men wanted to do.  I was looking forward to going back on the second Friday of the month…

 

I pull into an almost empty parking lot.  I actually think about going home, but I don’t.  I pay and go in.  Two men are in the place.  One is an older man I recognize who never does anything but sit—and perhaps, sleep.  The other is a handsome guy in his 50’s who is currently texting on his phone.  He nods to me and smiles.  I sit in my regular seat and pull out my cock.  The guy on his phone glances up and smiles at me again. 

His phone goes off and he quickly silences it.  Then he spends five minutes in a flurry of texting.  He occasionally glances up and seems to like the sight of me stroking to the porn.  I try to catch his eye once more, but he is too busy clicking away to notice.  Finally, with a sigh, he gets up and leaves.  Never to return.

I stroke.

Then the old guy totters out the door to talk to the cashier. 

I sigh, but keep stroking.

The door opens.  The Minute Man walks in.  He sees me and nods.  He sits off to the side, groping himself.  Eventually, he takes out his small cock.  It is hard. 

He stands up.  “You want it?”

I nod.  I might as well do something.

He comes over.  He huffs his poppers and lets me take him into my mouth as I sit there.  And in all fairness, tonight he tries and succeeds to make the experience last.  It is just shy of three minutes before his balls give up their cum. 

He sighs, stuffs it away and leaves.

I stroke in the empty room.

Fifteen minutes later, the door buzzes.

A short guy, mid-50’s and with a jovial face comes in.  He takes in the emptiness of the room and sits next to me on my right.  He’s a chatter—and tonight that’s just fine, we won’t disturb anyone. 

He really likes the straight porn.  He comments equally on the guys and girls in it.  He gropes himself the hardest as the guy on screen eats the young woman out.

His cock emerges.  A standard sized dick, very hard and dripping.

After fifteen minutes or so of chat about the lack of crowd or the sex on the screen, his left hand finds my dick.  He takes over stroking it.  “Nice…” he whispers.

This lasts for quite some time.  Finally, he asks if he can suck it.  I nod and he goes to the floor between my spread legs.  I like his mouth—and it’s great to stop stroking and enjoy his roving tongue.  He works on my cock and balls for maybe ten minutes before his knees tire.

“It feels great,” I tell him.  “It just takes an act of God to get me off anymore.”

He grins and goes back to stroking himself.  I ask if I should return the favor.  “Maybe later, but I don’t want to cum yet.”

We stroke.

He gets up to suck me once again, pausing to say “Can you drop your pants?  I want to get to your balls easier…”

I don’t answer, I just do it.  I keep the jock on, but the pants are around my ankles as I sit back down.  He kneels.  He starts with my balls.  He loves the fact that he can now easily lick under them.  He cleans up my ball sweat making a number of delicious-sounding moans.

He works up my shaft.  He drills his tongue into my piss slit repeatedly, scooping out the precum.  Then it’s back to my balls.  He sucks them gently, one at a time.  He lifts them with his left hand to lick under them once again.  This time he continues down my perineum, stopping a few millimeters from my asshole.  Then it’s back up, engulfing my dick and taking it down in repeated deep-throatings.

He pauses once again.  He sits down in his chair and sighs in contentment.  I think he’s going to let me suck his cock but tells me just to massage his nuts as he strokes.  I do.  We’ve had a leisurely hour of off and on sex.  No one else has arrived.

After more stroking and kneading of his balls, he goes down on me for round three.  This time he starts with my wet cock head.  He cleans it, moaning.  Then, some repeated deep throating.  But he can’t keep away from my balls.  He suckles them, He licks them.  He treats them with real reverence. 

Holding them up and out of the way, he licks down my perineum once again.  And back up.  He pauses a second and digs in his pocket.  He finds his brown bottle.  He huffs.  And hands it to me.  What the hell—I take a hit.  He is going wild with my balls and taint.  He is jerking himself like mad.  I moan as the vapors hit.  They do what I expect—and unlock my orgasm.

“You want…my load?”  I pant out.

He comes up and his mouth engulfs my cock head.  I’m there.  He takes every drop and won’t let go, no matter how I try to twist away from the exquisite agony his mouth is giving me.

He does stop, of course, eventually—after he’s gotten every drop of jizz.  He sits down heavily in his chair.  I stand up and see that he’s shot all over the floor in front of me—and some even in my pants. 

I don’t care.  It was worth it…

The Big Toys Come Out for SJ.

 My Playroom—August, 2026

 

SJ, who I’d first met at the group sex parties to the north of me, had lately found his way to my playroom.  We were both ready for another round of fuck and fist.  We made that happen in the middle of the month, once he returned from a trip.

He showed up eager to please and down we went to the playroom…

 

SJ, naked but for a jock and socks, sits on the bed.  His eyes are on the bulge in my own jock.  I move forward.  He mouths the fabric for a moment, before pulling it aside.  His tongue finds my balls.  He licks them, making soft, hot sounds as he goes.  Soon, I am buried deep in his throat.  He keeps me there—and then pulls off me fast, panting and sucking in air.  It feels great and I tell him so—which makes him do it again and again.

I can’t wait to eat his ass.  He gets on the flattened fuck bench, presenting it to me.  I kneel and my tongue instantly finds his ruined pucker.  SJ has ass lips that just beg to be sucked.  I can’t stop.  As much as I want to fuck, I keep suckling them—making them even bigger.  I smear coconut oil on my cock and stand up, pulling myself away from his now slightly gaping pucker.  I push in.  He pushes back to meet my thrust, our eyes meeting in the mirror in front of us.  I hold a moment—and then begin the first fuck.  Slow.  Opening his hole. 

I luxuriate in his heat and wetness.  I speed up.  Faster than I mean to—I just can’t help it.  The sound of my hips slapping his ass fills the room.  I want to go even deeper, so I put my left foot up on the bench next to him.  SJ groans as my cock pumps into new territory.

“Damn, I needed this…” he grunts out.

I keep fucking, slamming my hips against his cheeks.   I pull out and take my cock to his mouth.  He cleans me of his ass juices, the lube and my own precum.  He moans at the heady mix of flavors.  I go back to his ass, kneel and taste it all myself.  My rampant cock is begging for round two.  I stand up and fuck him once again. 

I want more in his ass.  I grab the Ballistic Butt Bomb. The toy is cooler than his body temperature.  I dunk it in the oil and smear it around the stainless-steel head of the toy.  It glides into his ass.  My cock follows.  I fuck into the head of the toy, moving it deeper into SJ.  More and more, until it’s right where I want it.  I smash into it with each stroke and groan out my satisfaction.

I pull it out and fuck him with just me.   Then I use the clear dildo with the black handle.  He loves the swell of this simple toy.  I work it in and out repeatedly.  Then do the same with my cock.

We switch to the sling.  His legs find the stirrups the moment he lies back.  I eat his used hole, then go back to the BBB.  Now my cock, the toy in one hand.  Now I alternate the metal toy and my dick.  Then together inside him once more.

We start moving through the array of toys.  SJ, like everyone else, loves the curves and bumps of the Seahorse.  He takes almost all of it with the curve going up.  He gets every inch of it inside of him when the curve is going down.  I try again with it up—and he takes it all.

The thick black butt plug is greased and stretches him.  Once in place, I use the BBB to beat on the end of it.  He shivers in pleasure as the toy vibrates in him.  I move on to the bigger two-tiered butt plug.  He takes it as easily as the smaller one.

I grease up my left hand.  It goes smoothly into his hole.  Keeping it in place, I stand up.  I pull out slightly, giving my hard cock room to slide in with my fist.  I fuck through my fingers, making SJ groan.

I pull out.  I rotate between my cock and my left hand.  I finally grab the long black toy with three bulges in its shaft.  He takes two them.  After my next round of fisting, he takes it all.

I take a small break and drink my tea.  I grab the chain with the medium sized links.   Just hearing it clink, makes SJ shiver in anticipation.  I grease it thoroughly and work it into him link by link.  He takes it all but the last three that I deliberately don’t put in him.  He takes a hit of poppers—and I begin the slow pull out.  Link after link emerges from his ass—pushing those hot ass lip out each time.  It gains momentum when most of it is out of him and the last few links comes out in a rush.

“Do it again!”

I do, slowly working each link into his hole.  Once all but the three links are in him, I leave it there for a moment so he can really feel the weight of it in his gut.  He takes the hit—and I begin to pull it out.  Slowly.  Letting the links emerge one by one until the last six inches comes out all-together.

I settle down for more true fisting.  My left works in.  I alternate it with my right.  Each time, I work it into him while I am on my knees and then stand up when I go a little deeper or want to rotate my hand inside him.  Now I do the right hand.  The way his canal goes, my left is a better fit.  I go back to it.  I stand up.  I want to go deeper.  I barely move, but he shudders as if I am pushing hard. I go an extra quarter of an inch.  Now half.  His breathing changes to a fast pant.  My middle finger is touching the bend—his second hole.  The look on his face tells me just how good this makes him feel.  He can’t articulate words so he just babbles out his pleasure.

I slowly pull out.  I re-grease and do it again.  I go just as deep sending him once again into his own private orbit.

We take a breather.  I go over and get the Sex Machine, the toy that looks like a robot’s penis.  After all this play, he takes it with ease.  He loves the shape of it, with its triangular shaft.  He takes it almost to the base.   

I pull out the biggest toy, the Cutler X.  He takes about half of it.

“Do you want to ride it?”

He loves this idea.  I help him out of the sling.  I place the toy on the fuck bench.  I hold onto it at the base.  He stands on the floor, his ass positioned above the toy.  He lowers himself onto it.  He takes half.  Now a little more as he begins to bounce on it.  Soon, he is truly riding it.   He grunts every time the massive toy fills him up.

He pulls off it.  We hug.  I ask how his hole feels.

“Wonderful.  But I think that’s it for today.”  He looks at the toy on the bench and then at all the toys scattered on the towel under the sling.  “I took all those?”

“You did.  Repeatedly. And my hands, of course.”

SJ grabs my left hand—giving it a squeeze as he sighs in contentment…

The Curve

 Near Home—August, 2026

 

I had so much fun with the surprise threeway (see the last post) that I returned to the bookstore the next night.  It was a very quiet Saturday night—but not without some simple pleasures…

 

There are two men in the room when I walk in.  A young Black man is on his phone.  He never looks at anyone in the room or at the porn on either screen.  There is also a mousy white guy, around 45, who is looking intently at the straight porn, but never makes any kind of move to show he’s enjoying it—not a smile, not a squeeze to his crotch. Nothing.

I sit in my regular chair and haul out my cock.  I am ignored by both men.  I happily stroke—waiting for more people to arrive.  In 15 minutes or so, the phone guy makes a connection and takes off, leaving the two of us.  The other guy lasts another 20 minutes or so.  He has never glanced at me—or still not shown any signs of enjoyment.  When the straight video ends, he stands up and leaves.

I am alone.

I keep hearing the bell on the main door going off as customers enter the store.  But they must be people buying sex toys, lubes and poppers, for no one comes into the theatre.

I stroke to the new video. 

I think about what I could be doing at home—things like organizing my books…

The door opens.  A white guy in his 50’s comes in.  He has maintained himself really well.  He is likely 5’10” and solid.  With all the seats available, he sits next to me.  The moment he sits he unbuckles his belt.  His right hand slides in under the waist band and down to his crotch.  He kneads his cock mound.

“That’s better,” he says, not even trying to whisper.

I stroke.  He kneads.

Soon, he unzips his pants.  He stands up and lets them fall to his ankles.  His hand is now under his white Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

I stroke.  He kneads.

This straight video is all super hung Black men ravaging white women in the ass.  But it is surprisingly varied—and hot.

I stroke.  He kneads.

Suddenly, his left hand is on my dick, replacing mine.  He jerks me—not too roughly, not too tight.

“Gorgeous,” he says—looking at his hand as it manipulates my cock.  I sigh, welcoming the touch of someone other myself.  In moments, he’s on his knees and blowing me.  He’s good.  He gets me very wet.  His tongue is all over me, including my balls.  When his knees tire, he gets back in his chair. 

He finally pulls down his underwear.  It’s a nice seven incher with a slight curve.  It gets quite thick at the base.

“My turn?” I ask.

He nods.

I go to my knees and do all the things to him that he just did to me.  He occasionally makes hot, soft moans that make me work harder.  He’s no minute man.  I work on him for a good ten minutes, before I sit back down to rest my knees.

We stroke.

He does another round on me.

I do another round on him.  This time I get more precum.

We stroke.

The next time he’s on his knees, he licks my balls more than my cock.  My moans tell him he’s doing the right thing.  He is aware I’m precumming, too.  His index finger will swipe it off and deliver it to his mouth—or to smear it on my wet nut sack.

When he sits back down, I do to him what he did to me.  His nuts are bigger than mine—and certainly hairier.  I lazily jerk his cock as I suckle each testicle into my mouth.  My tongue is all over one and then the other—and back again.

“Keep that up and I’ll shoot…”

I pull off him.  “Are you ready to?”

“I want one more turn on your cock…”

We shift around.  He sucks me in earnest now.  I really want to cum for him but I can’t quite get there.  When his knees are screaming, he gives up and sits.  I go to the floor.  I lick his sticky cock head.  I take him down my throat, really stretching my mouth open for the girth of his base.

“I’m so damn close,” he whispers.

I work back up his shaft and concentrate on his head.  He is drooling precum now non-stop.  I lick it up before I deep throat him once more.  That does it.  He begins firing a massive load into my mouth.  It goes on and on.  I can actually feel his balls contracting as he fires into me.

He moans and squeezes my shoulder.  I sit back down and offer him a napkin.  He dabs at his cock—and realizes that there is no stray cum.  He stands up, pulls up his pants and zips them shut.

“Now that was fun.”

He goes out the door. 

I may not have shot, but I feel very satisfied…