Thursday, January 10, 2013

No Place to Fuck

Nashville--November, 2012

The text came in while I was still at work:  “i got us the place for tonight at a fuck buds i know sent address to bbrt.”  Marc, the shaved head versatile guy from the serviceman orgy, and I wanted another round.  We’d thought one on one, but he couldn’t host.  I could host, but my room was always cold--pretty much ten degrees warmer than whatever the chilly outside temperature was…so it was not a good option for a place to get wet and sticky.  Then Marc solved it.  And if there was another cock for his ass, or hole to fuck, I was fine with that.

After work I got on BBRT.  His message was there.  I just looked at the address flickering on my laptop.  I’d just been there—it was Mr. 10.5’s residence motel.  Small world, smaller town…

 “We didn’t wait.  I have a load up there for you.”  Marc, naked but for white socks, gives me a hug.  Our host, just as naked, sits on his love seat, his thick, wet dick still spewing out onto his ebony thigh. 
I get naked fast.  Marc gets up on all fours on the bed.  I kneel and sink my tongue deep into his hole.  I grunt in appreciation at the taste of his spunk flavored ass.

“Lick me out,” Marc instructs me.   As if I needed it.  I suck and lick and spit juice into his stretched hole.  Marc uncaps a new bottle of poppers. He inhales.  “Fuck me.”
I stand up.  My cock is in place—perfectly lined up.  The head rests against his used pucker.  A slight push—and I’m in him.  To the hilt.  I have rarely felt such a spunked out hole except at my gangbangs.  “You only have one load?” I ask him.  Marc nods.  The host gets up.  He’s jerking, watching me fuck in his jizz.  Eventually he puts that mammoth thing in Marc’s mouth.  That makes him fully hard again.  I bring my spunk covered cock to Marc’s mouth as the host moves around to Marc’s hole.  He slams it home.  Marc does another hit of poppers before he cleans my cock.  He grunts as he licks it.  I lift it up and make him clean the fold of skin where my balls join at the base of my shaft and where the used semen collects.  He snuffles it down, eyes closed, lost in his own private, piggy world.

We switch holes. 
And again.

Then there is a knock on the door.
“I invited others,” our host tells us.  Marc and I look at each other.  I know he’s hoping for more tops.   One is construction type, but not the same guy I’d met there.  He tries to fuck Marc as soon as he is naked, but can only get hard when the host is up his ass.

The other man is one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen.  He’s tall, some Latin heritage showing in the caramel skin.  His dick is PA’ed with a huge, thick piece of metal.  And his gym built body is covered in tattoos.  Beautiful tattoos.  The kind where he’d planned them all in advance.   Tribal swirls cover his shoulders and point to the design just above his ass.  The tramp stamp continues down onto his thighs and interlocks with a design starting on his claves.  Mostly monochromatic, with just moments of color.  Breathtaking.  And this hot man gets on all fours and tells me to fuck him.  I kneel and taste his hole.  Slightly soapy, but nice.  I have to wrench my balls hard to keep from cumming, just thinking about sticking my dick in him.  I rise and inch into his hole.
“Fuck me hard, fucker,” He barks out.

I do. The new guy is failing at getting into Marc.  Instead he leans over the foot of the bed and waits for the host to pound him.  He doesn’t wait for long.  Marc moves around to reach for the tits of the tattooed man.  They kiss as he twists and I fuck.
Marc takes a brief turn up him.

Then the host. 
Then me again. 

In less than ten minutes, the tattooed wonder looks at his expensive watch and tells me he has to get home to the boyfriend.  He dresses and leaves. 
I fuck the construction worker as the host goes back up Marc.  Marc is huffing poppers like crazy as that huge black meat slaps into him. 

I signal the host to switch.  We do.  As I’m entering Marc, he takes one hit too many.  He crumples and almost rolls off the bed.  He’s out.  The host and I get him fully lying down on the bed.  He’s mumbling, not making sense.  The construction guy dresses and leaves.  I get water down Marc’s throat.  He’s talking a little more now—remembering nothing about his passing out.  He wants to get up.  We make him sit on the love seat.
The host offers me his hole.  I’m not sure I can concentrate on sex.  But my cock thinks differently—it’s still demanding release.

I pound our host. 
I shoot.  With next to no feeling at all.  But it makes our host shoot, too.

Marc is now able to dress.  We walk to our cars together.  He makes me tell him in detail what happened.  I try.  He shrugs.
“You ok to drive?” 

He nods—and he does seem to be totally back to his usual self.
I start for home. 

At the first traffic light, my cock spews a little leftover cum into my jock.  I sit and wait,  feeling a little guilty that I’m wishing my load had not gone up our host, or even Marc, but the one that got away... 

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