The Professor

Nashville--November, 2011

Before I left for Tennessee, Rob the Breeder had written me that a reader of his, and mine as it turned out, had written, asking if Rob thought I might be interested in fucking him. This was my first brush with a reader. A couple of my boys know I’m writing things up, but I haven’t played with either since October when this began. It creates a very different set of nerves than the usual hook up feel. Since the Professor had no pictures online--or any in his possession at all--I went to his house for an introductory scotch. I mentioned it in my hiatus post:

“…and actually met a very enthusiastic reader. We had a marvelous 4 + hour talk about sex, books, kinky sex, scotch, filthy sex, movies, piss sex, straight porn and antiques. We played a little that night, but not until it was way too late. (I mean, he showed he his jock-strapped hole, how could I not lick it? Finger it?? Fuck it just a little??? But it was almost 5am…) Tonight I hope to be doing some things with him he rarely gets to do….”

And we did.
　

We are in his bedroom. He’s moved his massive, expensive looking bed to one side. There is room for the sling to the left of it and the rim seat at the foot. I am careful to cover the hardwood floors with tarps. He adds a blanket to catch any run off. I’m stripping down to a jock and boots--a fetish of his. I look at the professor as I put the boots back on, having folded the pants and tossed them in a corner. His profile describes himself as 49 years old, with a stocky, solid build, with a seven inch, thick, uncut cock and a world class hole. I sampled both, briefly two nights before. Absolute truth in advertising. What he doesn’t mention is what a gentleman he is in the living room and how he’s anything but that in the bedroom--eager, willing, wanting new sensation.

He’s in a white jock and t-shirt, starting up the TIM porn we use as background fuck noise. I sit on the side of the bed and point to the floor. He kneels and begins licking the pouch of my jock. I’m pretty sure he’s erect and poking out of the side of his. I pull the balls free, and let his tongue get them sopping wet. Slowly I reveal the full shaft. He works it down his throat. He’s good. Really good. I relax and let him work my drooling cock. I’m not sure he’s ready to stop sucking, but I have to taste his hole.

I stand up and help him to his feet. I suggest he get on the bed, on all fours. It’s my turn to kneel on the floor. His ass cheeks are sturdy--they feel great as they try to squeeze me out of his crack. I stop stroking myself and use both hands to pull them apart. He takes a hit of poppers, and I plunge in. Fuck, yeah. It’s my turn to get lost--in licking his hole, using my beard to rub against it and his entire crack. He changes back and forth between poppers and Maximum Impact. We are lost in sensation. I pull his hard cock back, work the foreskin back and swab my tongue across it. I put all the precum into his ass.

Eventually I rise. It’s time for the Professor to try something new. I get under the rimseat. It’s my turn for a hit of poppers. I lie back, put the seat down and he sits carefully. The seat spreads his generous ass. My tongue slips into him.

“You are so deep in me.” He takes a hit of poppers which only allows me to get slightly deeper yet. The taste of his worked hole, flavored with his precum, is amazing. I lick and chew and spit at it. We could both stay right here most of the night. But I want to stick my cock in that hole. I double tap his thighs to get him up and off. I rise.

“I’ve never been in a sling.” I help him get situated. His legs are in the stirrups. He’s suspended perfectly in line with my throbbing cock. I bend to lick his hole and taint for a moment. He takes a hit of MI--and I enter. Not fast, not slow, just a steady thrust forward. I watch his eyes. They widen and roll back in his head. I stroke long and slow. He can’t keep his hands off his nipples. I taste his hole. I fuck him hard and fast until the chains rattle. Winded, I dig out a pair of forceps. I tweak each nipple and clamp it down. Not terrifically tight--just enough to really feel the constant throb. I re-enter him. His ass is velvet. And I love the sound my hips make as they smack his full, upturned ass. I fuck. And fuck. This time when I pull out I don’t dip to eat out his hole. I piss on it. I’m sure I take him by surprise--but he seems to love the warmth. He certainly loves the feel of my tongue cleaning it all off his hole.

Licking my piss has caused me to be rampant. I enter him. This time I see a flash of pain across his face.

“Sore?”

“A little.”

I ease out. Remove the forceps. The throb is most intense now as the blood races back into his nipples. My mouth is there, sucking them, swabbing them back to normal.

“But I want your cum in my ass.”

I smile. I rim him just a little. When I sense he’s taken a hit, I enter his ass. I’m building to release fast. A little more. Fuck, yeah. I fuck harder. And I shoot. I watch his face. I can see him feel every spurt. I dip for a minute and clean his hole with my tongue.

I ask if he want to get off, but he’s good.

We pack the sling.

We do a rather chaste good bye kiss.

And I’m off into the night.

I’d mentioned in passing that we were watching the one Dawson video I didn’t own. The Professor popped the disc and handed it to me. A nice gesture from a sweet man.

The first day we met, I charged him with making a devil’s dick of his own cum for me to use on him. We were planning a re-match before I left town. My unexpected departure for Michigan mid-trip, changed the amount of time I had to play significantly. I’m hoping we can still meet up before I leave Nashville--so I can slip all those frozen loads up his ass to use as the perfect lube…..