CLAW Day Three--"May I Cum, Master?"

Cleveland—April, 2014

I had a great connection with a Master and his slave during IML last year.  He contacted me early on to say that they would be at CLAW.  He had been there before, but not his slave.  The Master was thrilled I’d be in town, for he really wanted me to fuck both of them again.  When they are at home on the west coast, they almost always top other subs.  “We need a good fuck and you are the man to do it.”

I knock on their door at the main hotel.  The slave answers.  Naked. 

“Hello, Sir.  Come in.  Master is just finishing up.”

He is every bit as buff as when we last met.  He’s big--tall and broad, with a perfectly trim waist.  When he turns away I see the hot butt I ravaged 11 months ago.  His back, arms and chest are covered in an intricate tattoo pattern.  I look a little more at the total picture this time, which includes some men in bondage who are almost hidden by a twisting, spiny vine.  I hear his pierced ball sack jangle as he bends to kiss me then, then his wrists go instinctively behind his back and he kneels to take off my boots.

“Master told me to start without him.”

We are pressed for time.  They are going to the leather dinner I always avoid.  I am naked and in the slaves mouth as the Master steps out of the bathroom.  “Good to see you.”  I kiss him.  He hasn’t changed either.  He’s a foot shorter than the two of us, in his early 60’s with a bristly grey mustache.  He joins his slave on the floor, licking my balls.  They trade—the slave to my balls and the Master to my cock.  Master is the better cock sucker.  But I’m not here for a blow job.

“Up on the bed.  Side by side.”  They have two beds in the room—one for sleeping and one with a cover on it for play. They get up on the play bed, on all fours.  I kneel behind the muscle butt of the slave.  I dig my tongue in deep.   My fingers play with the Master’s crack.  When the slave is good and wet, I go eat the Master’s hairier ass.  I go back to the slave, then the Master, keeping a finger in the hole which doesn’t have my tongue.

I lube myself as I eat.  These guys don’t get fucked often.  I’m going to need it.  I push into the slave.  He takes it with some vocal histrionics.  I can’t make it all out as his mouth is buried in their play sheet.  After one hard thrust I hear it all.

“Thank you Sir!   Thank you Master for finding such a good fucker.”

I pull out.  And enter the Master.  I go in very slowly with him.  But he takes me like a champ.

“Kiss him,” I tell the slave.  He hungrily kisses his Master as I start to pull out.  I am soon up to full speed.  I pull out and re-enter the slave.

Back and forth.

“Roll over.”  I am just about to enter the slave.  He does.  I want to watch his eyes as I fuck him.  I’m not disappointed.  Desire and lust are both shining there.  Then he goes somewhere else—somewhere very good—as I bang at his prostate.

I do the same with the Master.  His gaze never leaves me.  His look just tells me how much he needs to let go and get fucked.

“Get on top of him,” I tell the slave.  “Kneel on either side so you can kiss him.”  They connect happily as I fuck the slave, then lift the legs of the master and fuck him while he is still underneath his slave.  This makes the Master hard.

“Sit on it.”  The slave pushes down on the Master’s cock.  A string of words of gratitude fall out of his mouth.  I have made a right choice.  I bend down to watch my private show of Master cock going into slave hole.  I tongue the disappearing shaft and the hole surrounding it.  This makes the Master moan.

The slave rolls off the Master.  I keep the Master on his back and begin fucking him.  The slave kneels by the Master’s head.  He’s jerking his cock like crazy.  The piercings jangle and clang.  “May I cum, Master?”

“Do you want him to?”  the Master grunts out to me.

I never stop fucking the Master.  I think about their fast approaching dinner.  “Yes.”

My hand is on the slave’s neck.  He reaches up, takes it off and slaps his own face with my hand.  I pick up the cue.  I cuff him noisily on the cheek.  Again.  Once more.  I hollow my hand to make it louder.  The last one really stings.

The slave grunts on cue, a strangled high sound—at odds with his massive body.  Very little ejaculate appears, but I swab up what there is and stick it on my dick.  The Master starts beating off.  He cums quickly and explosively on a deep thrust by me.  My mop it off the hair chest and feed it to the slave, making him suck my fingers.

And it’s over.  We talk about CLAW—asking how I like the Recon parties—and how we’ll have to do this again at IML.  I don’t get off, but I have no problem with that.  I’m headed to the last Recon party that night.