IML Day Three Afternoon--The Master and His Slave

Chicago—May, 2013

 

I tried to sleep late, but even with my earplugs and leather blindfold, I woke up earlier than I wanted.  After a quick breakfast, I went back to the vendor mart again as Bob started a clean out regime that was hampered by a slow drain in the bathtub.  I found nothing I really needed to buy, but had a good conversation with my friends from The Leather Man.

When I got back to the room, Bob was excited.  A f-bud of mine was coming over.  A guy Bob had not accepted for the Friday night party—even though I told him he had a dick thicker than mine. 

Syd knocks on the door, almost before Bob is done telling me he’s coming.  I answer.  Bob gets right in the sling, saying hello from there.  Syd is likely the same age as I, though he looks a little older with his salt and pepper hair, and much more weathered face.  He is 5’ 9”, and in decent shape.  He strips down and instantly kneels to rim Bob.  I strip and sit on the couch to watch and jerk.  Bob has taken a mirrored door out of the track from the closet and propped it to one side.  I am sitting along the other side of the sling—so I can watch the whole thing and the reflection.  Syd stands and slowly begins working his beer can cock into him.  It’s not super long, but I can see every inch of how thick it is from where I sit.  Bob is breathing fast, to help him get used to it.  It must do the trick for suddenly he’s thrusting back onto Syd.

It’s a leisurely fuck.  I stroke. 

At one point I take over from Syd for a while.

Syd goes back up him.  And then announces he won’t be coming.

The good news is that Bob is not a load queen; he actually appreciates the act of fucking.

Syd gets dressed and goes back to work a volunteer shift while Bob gets online.

Almost instantly he finds someone.  “Look at this.”  He hands me his phone.  The picture shows a black man straight out of a Tom of Finland fantasy. 

I get dressed as Bob tries to reel him in.  I eat a little more and get online myself.

Forty-five minutes later the wooing is still going on for Bob and the hunk.

I have a date.  I tell Bob he’s on his own.  He barely stops texting to tell me good bye.

I head to the 33^rd floor of the host hotel.  I am stoked.  I am playing with a Master and his slave.  What sets it apart for me is that the Master wants to give me his ass as well.  I knock.

This incredibly buff man in his late 40’s answers.  He could pick me up and toss me on the bed if he wanted.  His shoulders are huge, his chest tapers to a trim waist and a hot butt.  He is covered in the most intricate tattoo pattern, one that forms a complete picture—done with foresight and artistic skill.  He has restraints on both wrists.  He has pierced his ball sack with at least six silver rings that bounce and clank together as he walks me into the room.  “Master is finishing up in the bathroom.”

He kneels in front of me and undoes my fly.  He inhales my jock and looks pleased.  Then he’s taking out my cock and getting it hard with the thick slab of his tongue.  I am deep inside his mouth very fast.  “Thank you, Sir, Thank you for coming.  I have such a good Master to find you.”

And his Master is there, stroking my chest from behind.  He has grey hair and a full, bristly mustache.  He’s a good head shorter than I am—with a good body for his late 50’s.  He looks like a hot professor I used to have.

He joins his slave on the floor.  They start to unlace my boots.  They do it with great care.  Then pull off my pants.  I unsnap the leather shirt and dispense with that.

“Kneel on the bed,” I tell them. “Side by side.”  They do.

I start to rim the muscle butt of the slave.  He has a slight sheen of lube to his hole.  I wonder if the Master (or someone else) has been up him recently.  His hole is sweet.  He grunts and then starts a litany of profanity about how he is “so fuckin’ lucky.”

I switch to rimming the Master’s butt.  He is truly fresh from the shower, having barely taken the time to dry himself off. My beard collects the droplets of water from the hair on his ass.  I plunge deep into his hole while working my index finger of my right hand into the slave.  Both are now making noises.

I reverse—tongue in slave and a finger of the other hand in the Master.  The slave is so ready for my cock.  His hole has loosened up with my working it.  I reverse again.  I add a second finger to the slave’s butt as I tongue the hairier ass.

I am ready to fuck.  I rise, add a quick swipe of lube to my cock and push the head into the slave.  “Oh, Sir, please.”  I slow slightly.  But I am inexorable.  I push until I am almost balls deep.  “Oh, God, Oh, God, Oh, God…” he grunts into the bedspread.

“Let him take you,” the Master grates out.  Like magic, I am in. 

The slave changes his tune after I start pulling out.  He tells me how good I feel.  I fuck for a dozen strokes---just enough to make him miss me as I rip it out and move behind the Master.

“God, that’s bigger than it looks in the pictures,” the Master grunts out.  But I go up him easier than his slave.  And he is loving it.  And the slave is loving seeing his Master pleasured.  I reach over to fondle the slave so he knows he’s still wanted.

Soon I’m slipping out to re-enter the slave.  A knock on the door.  “Another top,” the Master tells me.  Oh, really?  I enter the slave roughly and slap his ass to tighten him back down.  The other guy walks into view.  He’s a 40ish cub I knew from many years ago at the piss party.  He’s also one of the men who didn’t bother to show up on Friday night for Bob’s gangbang.  I give him a something of a smile and keep plowing.  The next time I look over, he’s naked and up the ass of the Master.  He fucks in one steady rhythm.  I pull the slave over so he’s on his back.  His tree trunk legs lean on my shoulders.  I work into him, watching his eyes.  We are moving as one---it’s a great connection.  I spit in his mouth—which he loves.  We eat each other’s pits—which we both love.  When I tire of this, I lie on the bed—instructing him to stand on the floor and sit on my face.  He does.  The mix of my precum and his ass juices is great.  I lick and swallow greedily.  When I mumble for him to get up, the other couple has changed position.  The Master is fucking the other top doggy style.  Well, well.  I pull the slave around, keeping his feet on the floor, chest to mattress.  I enter him.  The two men getting fucked move their heads around to kiss and hold on to each other, each getting royally plowed. 

The new top shoots all over the bed.  I swipe it up with my hand, cover my cock and fuck it into the slave.  His Master chuckles appreciatively.  The Cub is gone.  I go back up the Master, but he’s having cleanliness issues.  He goes to check after I’ve used the sink.

The slave, sprawled on the bed, gets my ass planted on his face.  I don’t linger long there….just enough to take one hit of their expensive poppers.  I let the vapor do its work, then I get off and fuck some more.

Soon he’s riding me.  The Master is still in the bathroom.

“Please, Sir, Let me cum.”

“Do you want your boy to cum?” I ask, raising my voice.

“Only if you want,” he answers through the door.

“Do it,” I tell him.

Instantly he gushes a load over me.  Not large, but very, very white and opalescent.  He lets out a strangled cry.  The piercings in his nut sack clatter and clang as he fists every drop out of himself.  I reach down and feed him some cum off my fingers. 

He bends to kiss me.  Our tongues intertwine.  The Master is suddenly right there.  We move slightly to include him in our kiss.  The three of us savor the moment.

Then it’s all about, names and where we live and IML.

I go home, ready for a hot night and they will only be a few moments late for the awards dinner.