Monday, September 18, 2017

"Give Me Your Daddy Cum”

Near Home—August, 2017

I love having such good sex that I don’t want it again anytime soon.  Such was the case after the 18 hours with Derrick and Jacob chronicled in the last two posts.  But towards the end of that week, when I had an unexpected Thursday night off, my cock made it quite clear that he needed attention.   I listened—and went to the local bookstore on a non-weekend night.  I was glad I did…

It’s not particularly crowded.  But the crowd is all new to me.  And that’s always good.  A couple of older men are jerking each other on the couch in the straight theatre.  I watch for a moment.  They glance at me and all but offer me a seat between them.  I hear a movement behind the connecting wall between this and the gay theatre, so I decline and go over there.  The door bangs behind me.  It’s dark, but I can see.  Close to the screen sits a man who was once a clerk at this store.  He is stroking his huge cock to the porn.  An older man, in rather loud Bermuda shorts, sits across from him watching the guy masturbate.  I sit against the back wall and get my dick out.  I am instantly hard—the porn is good and I am getting off on watching the man watch the dick across from him.

But then he notices me.  Now he looks like a tennis spectator as his head goes back and forth between the two of us.  And surprisingly, I win.  He walks over and asks if I would like to be sucked.  I nod.  He steps out of his flip flops and carefully kneels on them.  He swallows me down.  Quite easily.  And with lots of spit and suction.  It’s a great warm up suck.

The other big dicked guy moves around to watch us instead of the movie.  My cock sucker looks at the other man, now watching him.  I can’t be sure, but I think just the possibility of taking turns on those two big dicks makes him cum in his pants.  His body jerks—without touching his crotch.  And he’s done doing me.  He stands, slips the flip flops back on and exits.

I smile at the former clerk and do myself up.  I want to see what the men on the couch are up to.  I go back next door.  One of the men is gone.  But distinguished man in the corner pats the seat next to him.  I sit.  He reaches over and unbuttons my pants.  My cock, still damp, flops out and his soft, gentle hands caress it.  I am not a big fan of hand jobs, but this is nice.  I reach under his dress shirt and take his seven inches into my hand.  I try to match his stroke.  His left hand pulls up his shirt, baring his hairy abdomen. 

I stroke.  I become aware that an older man is giving a very young man a blow job in the front row.  The young recipient keeps turning around in his chair, keeping tabs on what we are doing.  I figure nothing ventured and all that…I ask in a whisper if I can suck my seat companion.  He shakes his head and strokes me faster.

I match his tempo.  In moments, he unloads all over his stomach.  I sink to my knees.  He looks at me then nods his head and allows me to lick his abdomen, but not his cock, clean. 

When I’m done, I sit back up on the couch.  I watch the young man down front tap his cock sucker on the shoulder, asking him to stop.  The young man gets up.  He doesn’t bother to put his dick away as he walks toward us.  His thin cock sticks out, occasionally hidden by his over large, tie-dyed sleeveless t-shirt.  He sits between us.  We move, to give him room.  He could be anywhere between 25 to 35 years of age.  His hair is dark blond and cut quite short.  He’s more cute than handsome.  

And eager.  I stand up and present my dick to his waiting mouth.  He takes me to the root.  He may be young but he has incredible skills.  I grunt my approval.

He pulls off me.  “Does Daddy like my mouth?”

I nod and he takes me deep into his throat again.  The stroker has not lost his hardon.  He strokes the young man next to him.  This doesn’t keep the boy from making a meal of my cock. 

He stops again.  He looks at how red the helmet of my cock has turned.  “Daddy’s dick likes my mouth.”

“Yeah, boy.  Suck Daddy’s cock.  Show these men how much you like it.”

I say men, for the man who was sucking him before, has pulled up a chair to watch us.  The boy goes back to sucking at my urging.  He pulls off again and spits on the cock head.  He makes a show of licking it off to the other two men.

This time I pull out.  I hunker down and take his thin dick in my throat.  “Fuck, yeah, Daddy.  Suck me.  Fuck, you have it all in your mouth.”  He bucks into my mouth—and for a moment I think it’s all over.  But, no.  He sits back down and I pull off, intending to stick mine back into his mouth.  But he has other plans.  Before I stand up, he flips over, presenting me with a downy blond ass.  “Eat me out, Daddy.”

Oh, fuck, yeah.  He is sweaty from the sex, but more than ready for my tongue.  I eat him until my cock is dripping.

“Fuck me, Daddy.  Put that big dick is your boy.”

I rear back from my tongue deep in his hole.  “You want my raw dick inside you, boy?  You want me seeding your ass?”

“Yes,” he whispers.  “Knock my ass up.”

I didn’t come to fuck tonight, but there is no way I am not getting into that butt.  I eat him some more—leaving copious amounts of viscous saliva in him.  He’s moaning now.  The Stroker has started beating the boy’s meat as I rim.  I put a hand on his wrist to slow him down—I don’t want the boy to shoot before I fuck him.

“Fuck me,” he hisses at me over his shoulder.

I stand up and enter him.  Slowly.  He opens easily.  I work my entire length into him.

“You feel so good,” he croons.

“You, too,” I tell him.  “Hot and tight.”

“My ass loves Daddy cock.  I only get fucked by daddies.”

“Good boy.”  I am fucking him now.  Plowing his ass.  It looks terrific:  the beautiful blond butt taking my thick pole of a cock.

“I want your load, Daddy.  I want to take it home.”

“Yeah?”  I pick up the tempo of the fuck.

“I want to finger it out of my boi-pussy when I’m all alone.”

Fuck, did he rehearse this?  He’s saying all the right things to get me to unload.  I slam into him again and again.  I’m close.

“Fuck yeah.  Give it to me.  Give me your Daddy cum.”

“Take it!   Take it, boy...”  I start shooting into his ass.  He clenches, milking me perfectly.  I shake and empty into him.  He milks me.  Expertly.  I hold in place and let him.

Slowly he pulls off me.  He spins around and licks my cock clean.  The men watching are taken aback by this.  I love it.  When he’s done, I kiss him.  I sink down onto the couch next to him.  We trade names.  His shirt is pulled up for a moment as he pulls up his underwear.  There is an intricate tattoo all across his pubic area.  It sinks in—I’ve done this boy before.  The last time was in the corner of the gay cinema.

He does himself up.  He kisses me again and heads out the door.

Taking me home with him. 

Or maybe only taking me to the booths so he can use me as lube for another fuck.

I don’t care.

Either is fine with me.

Friday, September 15, 2017

Jacob Gets Me Off

West Michigan—August, 2017

(This picks up immediately after the last post…)

It’s morning.  Derrick is in my room—fully dressed for the office.

“I have to go into work, but I’ve told the boy not to let you leave without getting you off.”

I grin.  Maybe it’s even a smirk.

“He’s upstairs in bed—when you’re ready go find him there.”

I thank him and kiss him good bye. 

I stretch. 

I piss.

I think about how lucky I am.

And I start up the two flights of stairs.  There he is.  I climb into the large bed.  We are instantly wrapped around each other, spooning, with me behind him.  I drift back towards sleep.  Jacob rolls me—so that he is holding me.  I feel his morning erection poking at the crack of my ass.  He holds me for a long time this way.

And then his hands are all over me:  rubbing my shoulders, kneading my neck, tracing my spine to my ass.  Fuck.  I just melt.  And then we are kissing.  Tentative at first—are we both unsure about morning breath?—but then deeply and passionately.

His mouth is right next to my ear.  “Do you want to fuck this morning?”

I roll over and show him how hard I am.  His mouth goes to my dick.  I squirm around until we are sixty-nine-ing.  He is as rampant as I am. The cock jewelry has come out for sleeping.  I spend a long time on his dick and longer on his premium and heavy balls.

He pulls away and it looks like he’s about to sit on my spit covered dick.  Then he rolls off me saying he wants to do it right, after a quick clean.  I agree and tell him I’ll rinse off downstairs and meet him in the playroom.

Neither of us take long to get there.  We are naked this morning—no leather in sight.  We kiss again—right in front of the sling.  Jacob is into it the moment we break.  I stirrup his ankles.  I know how much he likes to be restrained so I fasten both wrist restraints tightly around him and attach him to the chains above his arms.  I also grab one of the half dozen blindfolds.  I fit in on his handsome face.

“I don’t want you to know what I’m going to do next…”

He nods.  I think I see a true shiver of excitement run through him.  I start with my tongue in his ass—of course.  I run it lightly up his hairy crack, up and down and up again before I start to drill into him.  Jacob groans.  His hands rattle the chains—he so wants to be jerking his cock as I’m doing this.  My hands spread his cheeks.  I drill deeper.  I pull them apart again and spit—it lands just above his pucker and slowly runs down onto it.  I poke it deep into his bowels.

I stand up.  My hands are on his chest.  Then his thighs and calves.  My hands begin working his bare feet.  I knead and stroke his soles.  I separate his toes—something that I know drives him crazy.  I suck his toes into my mouth.  He squirms under me.  Then my thumbs find his pressure points.  He groans and I switch to the other foot.  I do it all again.  Then grease up my hands with Elbow Grease and work his feet once more.

I move to his side.  His exposed pit is right there.  I have made him sweat.  My tongue cleans him up, slowly and deliberately.  I move around to the other side.  This pit is not as fragrant this morning.  Yet.  I chew and lick and leave it sopping. 

I go back between his suspended legs.  I lean over and suck his drooling cock.  He gives me a mouthful of precum.  I kneel and stick it into his hole.  This causes a bigger moan from the boy.  I go back for more.  My tongue can’t keep out of the hole the piercing has made in his dick.  I swab up the leakage, and this time, lick my way down to his ass—losing most of the precum all over his balls.  I burrow under them again, clean them up and let my tongue wander on down to his ass. 

I settle in for a long rim job.  Jacob’s ass is working over time.  It’s like I have already stuck my dick in him—he’s making lube like crazy.  I slurp at it noisily.  Jacob begins to pant.  This is certainly the longest I’ve ever been around him sexually and not fucked him.  I fist my cock—running all my pre-cum over the head.  I stand up and enter the blindfolded Jacob.

“Fuck!”  Jacob rattles at the chains where his arms are attached.

“You like that you finally have that dick in you?” I ask as my cock pumps into his super wet ass.

“Yes, Sir.”

“You love it don’t you?”

“Fuck me!”

I speed up the thrusts.  My hips make a great slapping sound on his butt.

When I finally slow down, I pull all the way out, kneel and bury my face in hole.

The boy writhes and moans.  After I have licked my fill, I take pity on him and unlock his right cuff so he can jerk his cock.  I go back down for another taste. 

“You want more dick?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I give it to him.  Long, loud and fast.  He jerks in time to my thrusts.

I pull out again.  I’m close.

I eat his hole once more.  Jacob grunts and pushes his hole out.  It’s the most pronounced I’ve ever felt it.  It all goes into my mouth.  My tongue goes as deeply into him as it ever has…

I stand up.  I thrust into him.  My cock explodes.  All the build up with the play yesterday and now this morning erupts into his butt.  It has to be a massive load.  I feel shot after shot fire into him. 

I collapse on his chest for a moment.  I pant.  A quick kiss and I move so he can jerk his cock.  Just two or three strokes to get off with me still imbedded in his wet, dripping hole.  It grips my deflating cock as he shoots his load.  I lick it up—still up his ass.  I slowly pull out, sink to the hassock by the sling and look at my cum beginning to run out of him.

I can’t waste it.  I lean in and begin to lick…

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Getting Derrick and Jacob Off

West Michigan—August, 2017

It had been a full month since I’d seen Derrick and Jacob.  I was so ready for all the things we do together.  We arranged an afternoon meet—knowing I’d stay for dinner and over night.

I am on the kneeling on the floor of the study.  The television is bright behind me, but I can only concentrate on the PA in my mouth.  Jacob is particularly horned tonight.  My tongue keeps working at keeping the PA folded against his cock head as he assaults my mouth. When he finally stops fucking into my me, I let my tongue let loose of the jewelry and use it to work the entire head of his dick.  I pull off and concentrate on licking his precum which keeps oozing out of the slit and the piercing.  He lets me.  And then he fucks my face again.

Derrick pulls Jacob off me and tells him to suck his dick.  Jacob bends over and eagerly does what is wanted.  It gives me the perfect angle to eat Jacob’s ass.  The moment my tongue connects, Jacob moans around his partner’s dick.  I spit into it one last time and dive under Jacob’s spread legs and lick Derrick’s balls as Jacob continues to suck him.

We switch.  I move around so I swallow Derrick’s cock.  Jacob moves to Derrick’s balls.  We reverse again:  Jacob on cock, me on balls—but I don’t stay there.  I work my tongue under them onto his perineum.  Derrick scoots forward to give me easier access to his ass.  Jacob grabs his ankles and holds them up so I can really sink my tongue into Derrick.   I poke and prod.  I seem to be particularly noisy about it—the sounds of my slurpings are loud to my ears.

“We should fuck him.”

I agree.  I stand up as Jacob grabs the narrow bench.  Derrick kneels on it eagerly.  Jacob plunges into his ass as I move to Derrick’s face and make him suck my cock.  I let him do what he wants at first, but soon I realized that I am bucking into his face with the same rhythm as Jacob is thrusting into his ass.

“Switch,” I tell him.  We move around to the new holes.  I plug his ass for the first time.  I slide in easily—Jacob has really opened him up.  I lean over Derrick’s back and kiss Jacob’s bearded face.  Our tongues fuck into each other’s mouths, imitating our cocks.

We rotate once more.  Derrick loves to taste himself on my cock.  Once he gets it good and wet again, I pull out of his mouth and move behind Jacob.  He knows what I want—and he wants it as much as I do.  He slows the fuck and lets me into his ass.  I stand stock still as he begins to fuck Derrick again.  He impales himself on me on every back stroke.

It feels wonderful, but it’s cramped with me pressed right against the couch.  I suggest we go downstairs.  They agree.

“Let’s go down,” Jacob says—“I need to piss.”

I am on my knees the moment we enter the play room.  Jacob’s piss just erupts into my mouth the moment his PA clanks against my teeth.  Sometimes he has to take a moment to get flowing—well, not today.  He gives me a belly full which makes my dick even harder.

We go right to the sling.  Derrick gets in.  Jacob’s constant erection is going to be put to good use.  Jacob fucks as I stand behind the head of the sling and work Derrick’s nipples with my slippery fingers.  I am waiting for Jacob to cum anytime now.  When he doesn’t, I move to the side of the sling.  I bend and take those tortured nips between my teeth.  I nibble and use my tongue and occasionally really bear down on the pointy mounds of flesh.

“Fuck him.”  Jacob pulls out.  I hunker down and spend long minutes tasting the mix of the two juices of these men.  I have to will myself to stand up—I could stay right there, licking and stroking.  But I do, of course.  I enter Derrick’s incredibly wet ass.  He is so much wetter than when I was last in him upstairs.   Jacob clamps his pit over Derrick’s mouth.  Derrick groans into the hairiness as my cock bottoms out.  I hold for a moment.  And I begin a furious fuck.  I don’t even know where it comes from.  My cock just demands it and I give in. 

The chains groan on the beams of the rafters above.  I don’t ease up the pace.  Derrick is stroking faster and faster.  Jacob goes in to kiss him and…Derrick cums.  I bend and lick what I can get—while still buried in him.  We are all surprised.  I usually have to work much harder and longer to get Derrick there.

He gets out.  I am ordered back to the floor for another quick shot of piss.  I accept gratefully and then get Jacob into the sling.  I eat his hole—something I’ve barely done this session—for a long time, while Derrick catches his breath.  He sits in a chair right by the sling to watch the live porn show.  My beard is sopping with the ass juice of these two men. 

I finally tear myself away from tonguing Jacob’s ass.  I know he want something bigger in there.  I fuck him.  Jacob grabs his cock and starts to stroke.

“Don’t you dare.”  I bark out.

Obediently, Jacob grabs the chains above his head.  Derrick is on his feet.  He grabs some sash cord and ties Jacob’s wrists together behind his head and in back of the sling.

“Now take it,” he tells his partner.

“Yes, sir!”

I fuck him every bit as hard.  Jacob’s cock flops around, abandoned.  Eventually I stroke it as I fuck—just enough to keep milking it, but not getting him close to explosion.

I am getting tired.  My sleep habits this summer have been horrible and I am beginning to feel it.  I stop fucking and lick the wetness of his ass. 

I grease my hands up.  I insert my left with very little work.  My right plays with his rigid cock.

I reverse.  My right goes into his ass.  I don’t touch his cock this time for it’s the bigger hand.

Reverse again.  The left pushes in and I jerk his cock.  Jacob is panting and on the verge of babble.

The right goes back into him.  Fingers open—working to a fist the moment my palm starts sliding in.  This time I reach for his cock with my left and stroke.  He fires all over his hairy chest.  I bend and lick as my hand slips out…

Derrick asks how I want to get off.  I tell him I’m fine.  And I really am.  I don’t think I could shoot at this point.


Some television, all on the couch together.

Asleep in the bed downstairs.


It’s morning.  Derrick is in my room—fully dressed for the office.

“I have to go into work, but I’ve told the boy not to let you leave without getting you off.”

I grin.  Maybe it’s even a smirk.

“He’s upstairs in bed—when you’re ready, go find him there.”

I thank him and kiss him good bye. 

I stretch. 

I piss.

I think about how lucky I am.

And I start up the two flights of stairs…

(Next time:  Jacob Gets Me Off.)

Saturday, September 9, 2017

The Man Between Us

Near Home—August, 2017

I had a three hour window of time to get off. 

It is 45 minutes to the bookstore, so there was half of it already used just in travel there and back.  I couldn’t waste time once I was there.  Thinking of it like that, I almost turned the car around and came home.  But I didn’t.  The load building in my balls was too great.

It started the moment I woke up.  I was achingly erect.  My cock looked huge—even to me.  I showered quickly, before any of the men who filled my house were up and about.  That helped for a moment.  But as I checked my email and the blog, it came right back.  Jacob had posted a picture on his blog of how he’d spent the night which involved cock cages and dildos.  I also answered a private query about how I made my devil’s dicks.  My email was full of summer sales from the porn companies wanting me to spend on the gorgeous men they pictured in their ads.  I was soon as tumescent as I was before the shower.

It continued through the day:  a man at work who I never think of in a sexual way wore tight pants that hugged a wonderfully round ass; the man filling his SUV across the pump from me at the gas station, was the embodiment of Trade; while grocery shopping I ran into two men (who were obviously a young couple) having a heated debate about how much produce they should buy.  I wanted to wield my plump zucchini on both of them right there.

So I took off that night.  I knew I was likely leaving too much to luck.  At the very least, I reasoned, I could jerk off more easily there than I could at my crowded house.  When I arrived, I noted the parking lot was half full—a good sign…

I walk into the straight theatre.  The most garish, least passable, cross dresser I have ever seen is filling the couch.  No one else is in the room.  I walk right out.  I go to the gay side.  No one is there.  They all must be in the gloryhole-less arcade.  I sit.  The porn is decent.  And at this point, I need to stroke my cock.

I do.  For a good ten minutes before the door opens.  It’s the distinguished older Black man. I’m hoping he is in one of his rare moods to let me service him—or vice versa.  We nod to each other, but he just wants to jerk.

So we do.  In tandem.  Occasionally looking at the other’s big cock, but mostly at the screen.

The door opens.  A young man enters.  He is thin and dressed for a college classroom.  His face is pretty, not handsome.  His long dreadlocks bounce and sway as they frame that pretty face.  He stops dead when he sees two daddies jerking.  I wait for him to turn around and leave.

But no, he balances himself against the wall for a moment and then sits in the open chair between us.  I can smell the alcohol he’s had to work up his courage to come here.

We all look at the screen.  And the sidelong glances begin.  I check out his growing erection in his skinny jeans.  The Young Man glances at first one than the other of us.


“Open your pants and let that thing out.”  It’s the Older Man speaking.  The YM stares at him—but in the next breath he opens his jeans. His briefs are hooked under his tight balls, letting a long thin cock dangle free.  The YM hefts his dick and it hardens up without getting any bigger.

“You want to suck this don’t you?”  The OM is speaking softly, insistently.  He waves his appetizingly thick cock at the YM as he says it.  The drunk YM man nods.  He gets to his feet and kneels between the knees of the OM.  I am dripping as I watch the OM use the YM’s mouth.  The OM rises, never letting the boy off his dick.  He grabs the dreads and ever so slowly face fucks the younger man.  The sucker has stopped stroking and is paying full attention to his elder.

Than another surprise.  “I want to watch you suck this man’s cock.”  He points at me.  The boy looks up at him.  Surprise?  Pleasure?  Disbelief?  He’s turned so I can only see his back.  The OM gives him a curt nod and the boy crawls between my legs.  He sucks me.  Not all that well, truthfully.  He doesn’t know to cover his teeth.  Or he’s too drunk to remember to cover his teeth.  But the scene is hot enough that I put up with it.  The OM comes over and stands behind him, watching him suck my bigger dick.

Too soon, the OM touches the boy on the shoulder and helps him off the floor.  He whispers in the YM’s ear.  The YM man nods.  He does up his pants.  And leaves. 

I can’t believe it.  I look at the other man, but his attention is back on the screen.

The door opens again.  The YM is there.  He comes in and stands between us.  He pushes his pants down to his shoes.  He waddles over to me with one of those awful one use bulbs of lube.  He finally manages to get the tip twisted off and he slathers the lube on my dick.   Is he really going to sit on me?  My cock jumps in his hand.

OM is standing—watching.

YM drops the lube and wrestles with the other thing in his fist.  A foil condom packet.  And not even a Magnum.  He tries to roll it down my cock.  It doesn’t fit.  I finally take it from him, stretch it over the head and he watches me intently as I roll it down my cock. 

I haven’t had a regular sized condom on in ages.  Maybe years.  It is so fucking tight I want to scream.  The boy finds the lube packet, picks some grit off it and squeezes out the rest into his hand.  He fingers it into his hot ass—getting the tight curls of hair in his crack good and wet.

And he sits on me.  Slowly.  Painfully, to tell the truth.  I am hurting with the tight condom and this tighter sheath of his ass.  But we finally manage. We have a moment of the YM riding me.  A moment of his bending to take the OM in his mouth at the same time.  I fuck into him, desperate to feel something other than constriction.

The OM sits down next to me, not in his original chair—I can only assume he thinks he’s going to be ridden next.

And at that moment the YM falls off me.  I grab for him, but too late.  He hits the floor.  I don’t think he hurts anything but his pride.  We help him up but he’s done. He tries to get his pants up without much success.  I rip off the condom and throw it to the floor.  My time is at an end.  I do myself up to head home—as a look of incredible gastric distress crosses the YM’s face.

The OM grabs the wastebasket just in time.  I shut the door and leave.

Blue balled.

Thursday, September 7, 2017

Guest Writer: Great Low-Energy Sex

July, 2017

As promised, here is Jake's account of our time together, that he penned just hours after it happened...

Saturday night.  I’m cleaning out, douching with one ear cocked for a knock on the door.  I am not quite satisfied with the last rinse, but there’s the knock.  I open the door, and FelchingPisser slips in.  He drops his bag and surveys the room.  I tell him, “I think I need one more go … OK?

“Sure, do it.  It’s not as if you’re being selfish.  It’s for both of us.”  I smile.  Yes, it is.  FP wants his bottoms to be clean.  He says it lets them get into the necessary headspace for anal sex, and he’s right.  I want to give in to the sex, with no fear that I will embarrass myself or displease my man.  It’s all about letting down, opening up, moving up close and losing myself in it. 

But uncharacteristically, FP slumps into an arm chair.  Normally he strides booted and jocked into the play space.  He paces about in a very sexy restless way, suggesting that he already knows exactly what benevolent violence he wants to commit on me.  “I’m feeling low energy tonight.”

No wonder there.  Two hours before he was on his feet presiding over a program displaying the results of his latest project in team building and cooperative enterprise.  FP spends a large part of the year recruiting young talent from all over the eastern US, and putting them together with selected veteran professionals into teams that have some specific project to complete in a very short time. 

Many skill sets are required, and the projects themselves are highly complex, so the details are many and the time pressure is intense.  When the work is done, the results are presented to a large group of people from all walks of life for their assessment.  It’s a race to the finish, but under FP’s management and direction, the results always impressive.

I was one of the assessors tonight.  I enjoy seeing FP at work, dressed for the part in loose-fitting long-sleeved shirt, bold red patterned tie, and slim gray slacks:   in command of the situation, at ease, warm, funny, and damned good looking. His blue eyes were bright with energy.  I hope no one notices that my eyes are riveted on his crotch, feeding on the very subtle suggestion of his bulge. The highly successful team presentation was followed by a group discussion of the project and its results, again with FP in the chair.

So, yes, he had only the leftovers of his considerable energies to offer me now.  I didn’t expect otherwise.  I was just glad to have him to myself, in whatever condition.  And even in low gear, his sexual energy is still well above average. He would not disappoint. So I finished my cleanout and presented myself for inspection. 

He was on his feet, dropping his briefs.  The penis was semi-soft but very inviting, and I went down on it.  I could hear his engine turn over.   He stopped me in mid-suck, strode over to the bed, and threw off the covers.

In short order I was on my knees, on the bed, ass lifted up.  He pulled up a chair and began rimming me.  FP introduced me to rimming, and no one does it better.  You’d have to be dead not to be aroused by his forceful probing tongue action, the feel of his bearded face grinding into my crack, and his sexy hands gripping my hips.  And the sense that he is enjoying it even more than you are; he is hungry, and you are wanted. 

And soon he is fucking me, not with wild abandon as at other times, but, tonight, with gentle firmness.  He is out to give me a good time, but he is first, last, and always in command.  He fucks me for a good while, but I am concerned.  I know that the bed is too low for his long legs, and he’s bending his back a bit too much.  So when he stops fucking me and shoves my ass down on the bed I am relieved.  

FP straightens up and paces a bit, stretching his back. He allows me to vacuum the “ass juice” off his huge dick, and then takes his seat again.  He’s working his hands to limber them up. “So how do you want this?  Last time you said you liked it on your knees.”

Yes, I did.  In fact, it was HUGE.  Literally huge; the rectum had dropped open and expanded inside me.  The asshole offered no resistance whatever.  And the mention of our last time together is a spark which lights off an explosion of remembered feeling.

So I am instantly on my knees, my ass out and up.  “Perfect.”  

There’s always a pause here, it seems.  FP is gloving and then lubing the gloves to his satisfaction.  Usually we go without gloves; but he says his nails are not properly trimmed for bareback fisting tonight. He takes his sweet time. I also think he is assessing the possibilities for getting on with the fisting.  And just sadistic enough to want me to beg for it!

A finger pushes in some lube, and my fires are lit.  With FP on top, my ass is an easy opener, so in less than a flash the first fist slides into home plate.  “YES!”  I say, arching my back in triumph as if I’d scored the run.  Soon FP is shoving in fist after fist, alternating left and right hands, and I am vanishing away, becoming only an ecstatically happy asshole begging for more and more.

But I miss the eye contact, and I say so.  FP throws me on my back.  “Closer!”  I shove my ass forward and tilt my pelvis higher.  He likes the new position, and starts fisting again, slowly at first, then picking up the tempo and increasing the velocity; my ass is being bombarded, and all resistance is overwhelmed as the citadel is stormed.  I am shouting in triumph and throwing out my legs and arms as each fist pounds its way through to the target zone. 

Suddenly it stops, and FP is laughing.  “You said you wanted to look into my eyes, and now your eyes are shut.”  And they were, sealed off to the outside world so that I could enjoy the light show being projected on the inside of the lids.  I was in that other place that only being fisted like this can take me to.

I laughed, too.  I’d been to the promised land long enough to come back and be with him again.  More fisting, and then a momentary pause. My head fell back on the pillow and I rested for a breath or too.  Another incoming fist, and the great stretch begins, but this time it doesn’t stop.

The stretch doesn’t stop because this time, another fist is coming in alongside the first one, hot in pursuit. First time doubling with FP! In my head:  “OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING!!”  The double-fisted missile hangs in the anus for a moment, like a well-muscled dancer in mid-air.  Both of us are wondering what the asshole will do.  Amazingly, it just opens a bit wider as I expel a long slow breath and FP suddenly has both paws shoved into my ass.  I have been invaded by a slippery pair of eager, active hands; they have weight and mass, and a life of their own.

FP holds the pose for a moment, and I yell, “Do that again!” He does, and this time I don’t need the long, slow breath to open for this special fisting gift.  And then we do it again!   But just being in isn’t enough for FP. He leans into his work and begins thrusting his firmly clasped hands deep into my ass, a giant double phallus fucking away for all it’s worth.  I am being double-fisted and double-fist-fucked by the man I love.  I am writhing with pleasure and roaring in triumph.

FP is glowing with fire, but he’s reached his limit.  So have I; I know it, but my ass doesn’t … as usual.  He pulls out the giant double-fisted phallus (slowly, so I feel every millimeter of the stretch) and I slump on the bed.  We are both panting, sweating, almost gone.  “One more time as a finale?” he asks.

“Do it!”  I say.  And he does; for the third (or fourth?) time, I shove up my ass to receive the incoming double-headed missile.  It screams up the passage, blows through the hole, and slams into the target.  I burst into flames and dissolve into smoke, while shrapnel (or lube?) flies all over the room.  

But FP doesn’t fuck me this time.  He just holds in position, leaving me impaled, filled to bursting.  He gives my feelings time to burn down to a manageable level while he smiles at me across the valley of my wide-spread crotch. Then he slowly pulls this monster human dildo out into the open air again.  We are done.  Great low-energy sex.


Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Jake Takes Two

My Hometown—July, 2017

I had another good friend and fuck bud take pity on me this summer when I was so tied up with my work.  Jake came to town and made himself available to me after a particularly long day.  He chose the sleaziest of the local motels (though, when I got in the room, I was surprised at how much they had tried to upgrade the place.)  Jake continued with a last rinse as I flopped down in a chair.  I was tired.  I hadn’t stopped all day—until that moment.  And I was feeling it.  I actually closed my eyes for an instant while he puttered in the bathroom.

Then he appeared around the corner.  He was ready.  I stripped.  The underwear came down…

Jake is right there.  On his knees—sucking my dick to life.  It feels good, but I know what will really stiffen my cock up properly.  “Let me eat that ass.”   I strip the bedspread back and have him kneel on the edge.  I pull up a chair and bend into his butt.  His hole is warm and pliable.  I get in deep.  Fast.  And my cock rises.  I jerk myself to full erection as I spit as much saliva as possible into his hole. 

I stand and add my cock.  It feels great to be back in this hole I know so well.  I fuck slowly.  Balls deep.  On every stroke.  I don’t even attempt to pick up the pace.  I want him to feel it—every inch—sliding relentlessly into the very center of his being.

I stay still for a moment.  Jake needs no prompting to milk my dick. I buck into him a few more times, before I pull out.  I stretch my back—the bed is so damn low.  I walk around to Jake’s head and let him clean my cock.  A wave of exhaustion hits me as I stand there with my dick in his mouth.  I’m really glad this is a good friend not some new piece of ass.  I cut right to the chase of why Jake is here:  “How do you want my hand?  Last time you were on your knees.”

So that’s how we start.  I sit down.  I glove up and grease up.  My left enters him with ease.  He is so hungry for me tonight.  I work the right in just as easily.  Instantly, it’s back and forth between the fists.  Left, Right, Left, Right.  In rhythm.

A lateral stretch.  And again.

And back to the full fist in place.


Jake wants to see my face as I enter him.  We flip him to his back—and too far away from me.  (Always!!)  We get him situated and I repeat the alternating hands.  It feels totally different for him on his back. 

And for me, too.  I feel like I can inch in a little deeper.  So I do.

I slip my right into him just as I have now countless times.  I open the fist inside him until it forms a cup.  The fingers of my greasy left hand glide along the right wrist.  The left’s fingers travel across the palm of the right.  My left closes into fist and is capped by the right already in place. 

Holy shit!  I have both fists in him at the same time.  We have just reached—easily—something we have both wanted to happen.

I continue to hold for a moment.  Then I take the fists out, one at a time.

Jake’s breath is ragged.  But he wants it again.  I try to reverse the process, but that doesn’t feel right, so I go back to what worked before.  First the right—and the left slides in after.  Bam.  It’s there and stretching Jake like I never have.  I move the joined fists together—fucking his hole with this massive part of me.  Just for a moment.  Then I pull them out sequentially.

A third time.  Fuck him with it.  Longer this time.  Making him babble meaningless words.

And we are done.


One last one…From the look on his face, I don’t dare move it once I’m in. 

I just hold it in place and give him a stretch to remember me by…

This is short…but so was our session. 

Just like the last time, Jake wrote up our session, too.  I will have to read it now—and publish it 24 hours after this one.

Monday, September 4, 2017

“Fuck the Shit Out of Me”

Near Home—July, 2017

A word of warning…you may not want to read this post as you eat…

I had a surprise night off.  I only had a couple of hours to play as I had a big day starting early the next morning.  I headed to the bookstore.

There actually seem to be more people here than usual.  Maybe my being here on a non-weekend night is a good thing.  I sit for a moment in the straight theatre.  About 7 men are constantly moving.  They sit for a fraction of a second, then get up and go out, more often than not letting the door shut with a bang. 

I go out myself.  Men are milling all over—in the toy section, at the entrance to the arcade, the parking lot—no one settles.  Are they waiting for a couple to arrive and entertain them?  I go off into the gay theatre.  There is only one occupant here.  An older man; he is likely a good ten years older than me.  His grey hair is cut close, he has maintained a healthy body weight and his cock is out and being stroked.  I sit next to him.

He smiles at me and says “Good movie.”

I open my jeans and pull out my dick.  It’s hard, well hardening.  It extends to its full length when I look over at the guy’s cock.  He’s not fully hard either.  He has a ton of thick foreskin that he is pulling back and forth over the very red head of his dick.  He notices me looking at it.

“You want to taste all that skin, don’t you?”

I can’t lie.  I do.  I slip to my knees and take him into my mouth.  I love the feel of his foreskin gliding over his creamy dick head.  He’s a very heavy pre-cummer.  I work diligently on his dick—but I can’t get it to fully erect.  But the amount of skin mixed with his pre-cum is working just fine.
His phone goes off next to my ear.  Loud.  I pull off him.  He looks at the screen.  “Gotta go.  Thanks.”   He zips up and leaves quickly.  And that was that.


I walk back to the straight side.  A few men are in the room now…but the men who were here when I arrived have scattered.  I stroke—but no one is interested.  I hear the door open to the gay cinema through the wall that separates the two.

I go next door.   A cute kid, with really exquisite arm tats is standing in the back corner, behind the entrance door.  He’s late 20’s, nice face, dark hair, and has way more excess weight than he should around his middle.  He has his dick out and is fisting it in time to the fucking on the screen.

I’m not a body fascist.  I sit in front of him.  I pull out my dick.  He doesn’t move.  He eventually looks, but turns his head away the moment I catch him at it. 

Soon it’s a stare down.  Our eyes hold. Who is going to do who?  He makes no move—he even stops stroking.  I stand up.  I walk to him.  My hard cock pokes into his doughy middle.  He grabs it in his fist.  Tight.  Then, in a whisper:  “Please suck me.”   Barely any sound at all.

I wait the briefest moment and drop to my knees.  I take his rather slender two and half inches into my mouth.  I use a tremendous amount of constantly moving tongue.  He sighs.  I’m pretty sure he has not had anyone down here lately.  I press into his gut.  I get another 2 inches into my mouth.  Damn.  Wouldn’t that be enough incentive to drop some pounds—to end up with a bigger dick?

As I guessed, he suddenly is bucking into my face.  It’s a good sized load.  Creamy and nice.  I clean up his cock and he tucks it away.  He’s gone in no time at all.


I spend some jerk off time in the straight room.  Alone.  It’s getting late—I need to head out soon.
Once again I hear someone go in next door.  I give them a moment.  They don’t instantly leave, so I go to investigate.  I step in.  I see no one.  A shuffle of feet behind me makes me turn.  Standing in the same corner is a middle aged man in seemingly nothing but sandals and faded overalls.

He nods to me.  I step back and share the back wall with him.  We both grope our own bulges.  He moves forward.  He is now two steps ahead of me.  His ass looks amazing in the overalls.  Full.  Pressing against the fabric.

And now the right strap is coming off his shoulder.  I watch its descent.  It's a hairy back.  I run my hand down his spine and give his left cheek a squeeze.  He reaches behind him and fumbles with the buttons on my pants.  I help him get in.  He jerks me, with the roughest, most calloused hands I’ve felt in a long time.  He jerks me, as I move the other strap.  The overalls fall to his ankles.  His ass is as hairy as his back.  I pull away from his rough hand and kneel.  I want to pry those cheeks apart with my tongue.

I do.  He pulls them apart still more.  I tongue his hole.  I get it as wet as I possibly can.  This is perfect.  I spit on my cock and stand up.  He grabs my wet dick and guides it so it pushes against his pucker.  It resists for a moment.  One more push and I’m in.  The man grunts and whispers to: “Fuck the shit out of me.”

I am more than ready to give him a load and get out of here.  I plow him deep.  He bends—pushing his ass onto me even deeper.

And then I smell it.  He hasn’t cleaned deep enough for me.  I start to say something.  He registers—and pulls off me.  He whirls around and swallows my cock.  He takes my filthy dick deep down his throat.  It stays in his mouth until he has sucked me totally clean.  He moans as if I am giving him the best possible treat.

I am on the brink of leaving, but quickly think "To hell with it."  He stands up and turns. I plow back into his fouled hole.  It takes me just a few strokes to get off in that ass.  Spasm after spasm.

“Clean my stinking dick,” I mutter.

He does.  Lovingly, kneeling between my combat boots.  He looks up at me.  “Can you go again?”

I shake my head, and tuck my spotless dick into my jock.