Picture Perfect

The old cliché is that a picture is worth a thousand words.  In this case, yeah, I think it is worth that many or even a few more.  It certainly sums up perfectly the feel of the blog entry I’m working on.  Two top pigs that love ass to mouth as much as any sub bottom boy. 

 That’s me about to be cleaned off after pulling out from fucking my favorite Piss Boy…

Weekend With Marco

My Playroom—March, 2014

My next visitor to the playroom made me totally forget about Mr. I-Want-You-to-Clean-Me-Out.  I ended the month having a long weekend with Marco.    I wrote about him in ‘Muscle Hole.’  That post was all about a shorter weekend when I went to his home in Ohio and had a really great time together—and I don’t mean just the sex.  March was our second time with just the two of us.  We made the most of it.  We fucked and fisted on Friday night when he arrived.  We played twice on Saturday and once again before he went home on Sunday.  We used all the fuck furniture in the playroom, all my toys and all the toys he brought before we moved to my hand in his hole.  We always ended in the shower together to get all that extra lube off of us.  And best, we slept together in the playroom bed:  entwined, sated and totally comfortable together.

Here are a few moments from the weekend:

That ass.

It’s not just pretty to look at, but it’s talented.  It can grasp my cock, my hand.  Even my tongue.  And it can take anything I can dish out.  Here is that hairy hole taking a series of toys. 

The long string of balls totally disappears. 

My size 11 boot is a good point of reference.

I go back to my cock in him.  For a moment I can feel the stretch I have done on his hole.  But he’s in control, not me.  He tightens down and it’s back to the same hot hole with which I began.

I eat him again.  I love that the moment my tongue enters him he is hard again.

 More toys.  He squeezes down and pushes the dildo out of his ass.  I just manage to catch it with my slippery hands.

The speculum comes out.  I crank him open.  My index finger curls up and plays with his prostate.  Marco is a copious precummer.  The stimulation makes his cock drool like crazy.  There is a steady drip to the padded floor below.  My free hand catches some in mid air.  I bring it to my mouth to taste him.  Sweet and viscid.  I catch a little more with my left hand as I tickle his prostate with my right.  These drippings I finger up his ass.

We transfer to the sling.

I rim his hairy hole for a long time.

My cock re-enters him.  He feels totally different now that he’s on his back.

I fuck him to the point of cumming.  If I go another three strokes I know I’ll be over the edge.  I will myself to stop.  I do.  I just let my cock rest in him.  I begin a long withdrawal.  He gives me a hard squeeze with his ass as I exit.

I kneel.  He thinks I’m going to taste his hole again, but I just do a quick lick and let my right index finger push into him.  Then two fingers.  Three. 

My right hand begins to push in—I stop at the bridge and slather on more Crisco.  He snaps his stretched hole around my wrist in no time.  Hard.  I hold for a moment, and give my fist a quarter of a turn.  I love the throaty groan he gives.  And the fact that I just sent him to the popper bottle again.  I twist back carefully to my original position.  I turn again.  He whimpers in an encouraging way. 

“Open your hand,” he murmurs.

I make a slight move to pull out, but it’s just enough to let me carefully uncurl my fingers.  They begin a slow crawl up deeper into his gut.  I touch my own cock with my left hand.  I pull back from my dick—I am so close to blowing my load.  My right hand moves another millimeter.  Marco is huffing poppers and grabbing at his hardening cock.  I press forward slightly.

That’s all it takes.  Marco explodes onto his hairy stomach.  The contractions of his orgasm are like a mighty sneeze and push my hand out of his ass.  My left hand scoops up his cum and I slap it on my dick.

“Fuck you…with your cum…” I mumble.

I get my cum-covered cock into his ass.

Two or three strokes and my own seed mixes with his.

I fall forward.  We are chest to chest.  Still attached cock and ass.  His arms hold me in place.

And his hand traces a mindless pattern through the slight stubble on my shaven head.

The Bulb

My Playroom—March, 2014

I’m thinking of buying a shower shot.

No, I’m not thinking about bottoming any time soon. 

But I think I need to make it easier for the guys I host.  Part of my instructions for inviting guys over to fuck is to make sure they know to arrive cleaned out.  Since for most men it’s a drive to get to me, I always make sure to give them time to do a touch up or a least a spot check before we head upstairs to the playroom.  I have a bulb for their use if they want it.  Most bring their own bulb, bottles, etc.  I have had men arrive with their own hose and a crescent wrench.

Yes—please!!  I love my spotless boys!

I should have known something was up with Ernesto.  He drove three hours to get to our play sessions.  He was a short, bear of a man.  Somewhere from the Mediterranean.  Olive skinned.  Not much definition, but no fat.  And he was hairy.  Everywhere.  That kinked, spiraled type of hair that I like to unwind with my tongue.  He’d said he was younger than I, but I’m pretty sure he was older.  That was fine—as long as he had a talented hole.

We’d talked on Asspig. I told him all the usual things—about the playroom; to prep his ass for me and then do a final rinse or two here; what toys I had; what size my hands were, etc.  He agreed with everything and seemed to like my kinks.  We set the date.

He arrived right on time.  Maybe even early. I showed him to the bathroom for that final rinse.

“No, I am good,” he told me in heavily accented English.

“Really?  I mean three hours…”

“No.  All set.”

Well, he knows his own body best, right?

We go upstairs.  Strip.

Minor cock sucking.

Right to the fuck bench.  The hairiness of his ass is just what I like.  I spend a lot of time rimming.

“Fuck me, please.”   I continue to eat, but lube my dick as I do it.  I stand up and enter him easily.

I fuck.  I spit on my cock and fuck the spittle into him.

I pull out.

Of course.  I don’t have to say it.  I grab the paper towel and hand him the bulb to clean himself.  We troop downstairs—him to the shower and me to the kitchen sink.  I wash and wash. 

And wash again.

Then go up and wait for him, lolling on the bed and idly jerking to the Dick Wadd porn.

He’s back, a little fast, it seems to me.

We fuck.

And it’s a repeat.

Down we go to the bathroom.

“Don’t rush the process,” I tell him.

It happens a third time.  I am on the edge of saying “Go Home.”  But he’s come so far…

I wash and go back upstairs. 

Suddenly he’s there at the door.

“Please, I can’t reach properly.”

“What?”

“Help me.”

The light bulb goes off.  So that’s what he needs. The next thing I know I have him lying face down on the bathroom tiles.  I am straddling him and wielding the enema bulb.  I squeeze one, two full bulbs into his ass.  I leave the room to let him scramble up and expel it all.  I’ll play Doctor for him, but not to that extent.

We repeat the douche.

And again.

I vow to never do this again.

I get him clean—and we go upstairs. 

But I can’t shake the earlier images. My cock is down for the count and only my gloved hand makes him happy.

*****

“It was great time,” he writes me later.  “When can we do it again?”

My cock shrivels another millimeter.

And I can’t think of a single word to write to him.

"Call Me Anything You Want" Part Two

Ann Arbor—March, 2014

Continued from the last post…

“Now eat my ass.”  I sit on the rimseat and let his thick tongue lick at my pucker.  He groans as he works deeper.  His passion makes me groan, too.

A knock at the door.

I stand.  “What the fuck…?”

I look down at him.  Questioningly.

“It must be my Master…”

I think back—the boy had asked once if I like playing with other tops.  Did he—

The knock is repeated.

“Get up and on the bed.”  I put the bar back in place.  And the blindfold.

And answer the door.

There stands a fuck bud I haven’t played with in almost seven years.  He’s shorter than I am, with a similar build and a hairier chest.  I know that over seven inches of cock are in that jock.  A cock with a severe downward bend.

Butch steps in.  He takes one look at the bed and says “It looks like you knew how to put this boy in his place.”  He strips down fast to a black jock.  “Fuck him for me—that’ll get me hard.”

I enter the boy.  He grunts.  I watch Butch’s cock harden.  He has a leather cockring on that divides his balls.  He strokes as I fuck.

“My turn.”

I pull out and Butch moves around to the foot of the bed.  I grab the camera.

He fucks him.  The sound of his hips slamming the Black bubble butt fill the room.  I take another pic as he pulls out.

“You’re turn.”

Butch moves away.

“Make him clean your cock.  This boy likes it straight from his ass.”

Butch straddles his face.  Lowering his cock into the opened mouth.  I wait until he has a mouthful before I shove in.

“Don’t bite.”  Butch cuffs him along the side of the head.  “Open and cover those teeth.”

For the next hour we take turns on the boy’s holes.  Butch and I have done some memorable double fucks—as his hooked cock can stay in place as I slide my bigger one alongside it.  We both agree this boy is too tight.  We just hold him in place and rotate—keeping both his holes filled.  Sometimes we praise him.  More often we call him names.  This makes him work that much harder.

“On your knees.”  I roll him over.  We get the boy on all fours.  Butch and I stand side by side. I fuck into the Black ass for two strokes or so.  I pull it out and Butch goes up him.  He pumps three or four than rips it out.  I push in again.  “Feel the difference, boy?”  He grunts into the bedspread.  “We’re taking turns.”  The swift strokes in and pull out are driving him crazy.  He’s whimpering.  We ignore him and keep the rhythm going.

The boy tries again.  “Please….”

I look at Butch.  He nods and we stop.  We both flop down on the bed on either side of the quivering mass of Black fuck flesh.  I pull off the blindfold.  He squints into the dim light of the room having had no light at all for so long.

“Ride my cock.”  Butch spreads his legs. 

The boy mounts him.  I snap a picture.

Then I lean in and lick those balls.  I taste the leather, the sweat and a whole lot of ass juice.  I find it hard to stop…

*****

We need to get off and let the boy go home to his vanilla boyfriend.

“We are sending you home full,” Butch tells him, his lips close to the boy’s ear.  “Come on, fag, get on all fours.”

He does.  I let Butch go first.

He blasts deep.

I am so excited about fucking in cum, I don’t even take time to clean Butch’s cock.  I just push in the moment Butch pulls out.  “Fuck!  I’m fucking his seed deeper.”

I pummel his dark ass.

“You want it?”

“Please, Sir.  Breed this Black Bitch.”

My cum shoots. 

And mixes.

Deep in his hole.

"Call Me Anything You Want" Part One

Ann Arbor--March, 2014

We had been talking about a hook-up for over a year.  It had never happened as it always seemed that he was available when I was working out of state or in the summer months when work made play all but impossible.  And then there was the distance.  Not terribly far, but enough to make us both think twice.

But I certainly wanted to meet.  He was 34, 5’ 11” and, from the pictures, had a hard, trim body.  His dark brown pecs made my cock jump.  His cock—which I guessed I would hardly see—was big and his final picture showed an amazing bubble of an ass.

By late March, it looked like we could make it work.  He wrote me he could come as far as Ann Arbor (about half way) and get a cheap motel.  He asked if I’d bring the sling and rimseat.  I agreed.  He reminded me he wanted me to be aggressive and verbal.  “Tie me up.  Call this Black Boy anything you want.  I love to have my White Daddies call me…names.” 

Ok, he used the word I won’t write here.  Now, while I won’t type it, I can enter into the role play of it all—if I know that it is something the man I’m with wants to hear.

I arrived right on time.  I knocked on his door.  He let me in, naked but for a black jock. 

“Kneel.”  He did as he was told.

The room was small, the bed filling most of the room.  There was no way the sling was fitting in here. 

“Now stay.”

I went back to the car, leaving the door slightly ajar—leaving him to potential exposure—while I got the rimseat.  I’d seen enough of his ass in those brief moments that I knew he’d be sitting on my face.

“Stay right there, boy.”  He starts to look up at me.  “Head down.”  I dig in my bag.  I find the wrist restraints, the ankle restraints and the spreader bar.  “Now stand.”  I buckle one around each of his wrists.  I clasp them together.  He is standing, head bowed, right at the foot of the bed.  Waiting for me to really touch him.

I take my time stripping down to my yellow jock.  I lace up the boots.  Slowly.  Letting the tension in the room build.  I walk behind him.  My hand pushes into the cleft of his ass cheeks, which are hairier than I expect.  He gasps. 

“This ass is gonna be mine.”

I push him down on the bed.  He can’t catch himself with his hands secured, he just lands face down in the covers.  I pull his ass cheeks apart as I kneel.  “Open that hole, Black boy.”  My tongue invades him.  He has showered, but I’ve been making him sweat.  I burrow deep.  I tongue him and spit.  His hole is tight.  The boy is moaning and pleading into the bunched bedspread for me to stick my raw cock in him.  I stand.  I spit in my hand and slather it on my cock head.  I don’t do any more than try to push the head in.  He’s very tight.  It takes me three tries, but I make it.  I just hold—no thrust at all.  I pull it out.

“Taste your ass, fag boy.”  I move up on the bed.  I lift his head from the covers and force my cock into his mouth.  I hold him by the ears and use his mouth like a masturbatory toy.  Up and down on my ever expanding cock.  I hold him down on it until his eyes water, calling him names under my breath.

I let him up for air.  He gasps.  His face is radiant. 

I roll him over onto his back. 

“Get your legs in the air.”  I fasten a restraint around each ankle.  I click the spreader bar into the D rings on the leather strapping.

I get the blindfold on him.  I pull his hips and pull him to the edge of the bed.  “Grab the bar.”  He gropes blindly for a moment before he can find it.  When he does, he pulls tight.  His hips roll back and his ass is at the perfect angle for me to fuck. 

I spit on his hole and enter him.  Roughly.

“That’s a tight hole, boy.  I wonder if it will be when I’m done?”

I slap my cock onto his upturned ass.  I love the color contrast.

“Give it to me hard, Sir.”

I spit on my cock and shove it in.  All the way home.

“ARGH!”   He pants.  I hold for a moment.

He grunts again, softer this time, deep in his throat.

I begin to pull it out.

I get about half way before I pound it back in.   And again.  I am rocking the bed with the force of my fucking. 

Eventually, I slow. And pull it out.  I kneel by his head.  “Clean my dick.”

Does he hesitate?  No, he opens wide, but I cuff him lightly and tell him to act like he wants my ass slick dick.  He opens wider yet and I let his pink tongue clean me off. 

I pull out of his mouth and spit in it.

“Relax.”  I grab the bar and let his legs come down.  I keep the blindfold on him, so he can’t see what I’m doing.  I make some noise as I set up the rimseat, letting the legs clank as I put it together.  I shake out a towel with a snap, then fold it around the pillow.  I let the seat close with a bang.

“I want to taste what I’ve done to your ass, boy.”  I lean in and get the blindfold off of him, then the bar off his ankles.  I help him off the bed.  “Sit down once I’m in place.”  I crawl in.  “Now lower the seat.”  He waits a moment and does what I tell him.  “Sit down, boy.  I want to taste that Black fuck hole.”

Again he hesitates.  He straddles the seat and lowers himself onto my face.  My mouth opens to meet his furry crack.  My fucking has made him incredibly wet.  I harden my tongue and ream him deeply.  He groans above me and I swallow his ass juice.

*****

Much later.

The boy is bent over, holding on to the washstand in the room.  I am fucking him as he looks into the mirror.  He can’t take his eyes off me standing behind him and pumping my cock into his battered hole.  Abruptly, I pull out. 

“Clean up my cock,” I mutter.

He does, swabbing it down with his tongue.

“And the balls.”

This is new.  He has barely touched them in the hour or so I’ve been using him.  He caresses them with his tongue, but it’s a hard angle for him to do it right.  I move backward and sit on the corner of the bed. 

“Kneel.”  And he does.  He worships the hairy sacs. 

All around them. 

And under them.

He starts working his tongue down towards my ass.

I sit up.  “Who told you to go there?”  He babbles, confused.  “Do it right.  Get under here.”  I step over him and raise the seat of the rimseat. 

“Yes, Sir.  I want to eat your hole out.”  He crawls into place. 

I lower the seat, but I don’t sit.  I am standing astride him.  “Open your mouth, faggot.”

He does.  And I let fly with a stream of piss.

He gasps and gurgles and swallows almost all of it.

“YES, Sir!”

“Now eat my ass.”  I sit and let his thick tongue lick at my pucker.  He groans as he works deeper.  His passion makes me groan, too.

A knock at the door.

I stand.  “What the fuck…?”

I look down at him.  Questioningly.

“It must be my Master…”

More to come….

Oceans of Cum

My Playroom—March, 2014

It had to happen. 

With my delay in writing things up, I have come to a hook up about which I remember next to nothing.  My notes read:  FF bear off Asspig from OH….safe but ok. 

H’mmm…

It took a moment for me to even think who he was.  I eventually found his profile.  A barrel chested man in his late 40’s, very hairy and he had a hole that needed a lot of attention.  I found that he wrote me afterwards saying that he had a great time.  Well, the only thing I do remember about the encounter was that with squeezing my hard cock into a Magnum, I felt next to nothing as we fucked.  So I switched to my hand up his ass very fast.  Which I think is what he really wanted anyway…

*****

Near Home--March, 2014

By the weekend, with no one online, I was at the bookstore closest to my home.  This Saturday night was particularly sparse for anyone I was interested in.  I did watch a straight man whore out his girlfriend for a time, but any men I wanted to play with were in short supply.

I finally ended up back in the gay cinema, when the cashier switched the movie from a sexually dull, just going-through-the-motions flick with condomed young men to a European bareback video. 

I pull out my cock.  Again.  I stroke idly.  I am alone in the partitioned room.  The action on the television is good.  The camera revels in long strands of pre-cum and spit on puckered holes.

The door opens.  A young man I’d seen watching the couple comes in.  He sits across from me.  He is, at the most, 28, his hair short and neat, dressed in jeans and a red t-shirt.  His white running shoes catch the light from the television screen.  He glances at me.  After a brief look at my cock, he directs his attention to the screen and to kneading the bulge in his upscale jeans.

We watch in silence.  My cock is pre-cumming enough that it becomes the only noise in the theatre as I stroke.  And the sound of his zipper.  Down it comes.  He pulls out a very respectable 7+ incher.  It’s thin, and I think uncut, but it’s hard to tell with the lack of light.

He glances over at me.  To make sure I’m looking.  No eye contact at all—then he re-focuses on the screen.

We both stroke openly.  I occasionally check him out, but he’s of an age I’d never make the first move.  If he’s interested in Daddy, he needs to do that.  He checks out my cock every few minutes.  I stop stroking each time, gripping it by my balls and showing him the entire length and girth.

No move.

No eye contact.

The door opens.  A man I’ve played with in the playroom and here at the theatre enters.  He smiles and sits next to me in the row of chairs.  He’s a good ten years younger than me.  I sigh as I realize that it’s likely more like 15 years younger than me.  He’s trim, only slightly hairy and very pale, as I remember him without the shorts and tee he’s wearing now.  My bud, Josh, wastes no time in pulling out his regulation sized cock.

We all stroke, watching the video.

In no time, Josh sinks to the floor and takes the length of me down his throat.  I sigh.  Loud enough for the young man to turn and look at us.  He does just that.  The screen is forgotten.  He wants to watch the live sex show.  I slow Josh down a little on his deep throat routine.  He becomes aware he’s being watched, but he seems to kind of like it.   I look at the young man.  I nod to the chair just vacated by Josh—inviting him closer to the proceedings.  He stays where he is, focusing his attention on my cock and Josh’s mouth.

“You wanna get fucked?”  My low voice seems incredibly loud in the room.  Josh doesn’t answer me, he just stands up and leans on the chair in front of us, his clothed ass arching in my direction. 

The boy jerks faster.

I reach around and undo Josh’s shorts.  I pull them down.  And the underwear.  His naked butt cheeks are full and white.  I sink to my knees and begin tonguing his asshole.  I hear Josh moan.  I glance over at the voyeur.  He’s loving this—his hand is moving at top speed up and down his cock.  When he notices me looking at him, he makes a feeble effort to look at the screen, but he’s back to us before I sink my tongue back into Josh.

I stand up.  I make sure the Young Man sees the length of my cock.  How red the tip is.  How excited it is.  How the pre-cum is pooling on the top of Josh’s ass crack. 

I make a show of covering my cock with that pre-cum.  When it’s slick, I push into Josh.  He grunts, but takes me easily. 

The boy stands up.  He pulls the front of his red T-shirt up and over his head, so that it cradles the back of his neck.  The boy is ripped.  Hours at the gym for the six pack he is showing off.

For a moment, I think he’s coming over to stick his dick in Josh’s mouth.  The Young Man takes one step towards us and shoots.  Jets and jets of sperm land on the floor between us.  Oceans of cum cover the tile.  I keep fucking, nodding at the Young Man as he wraps a paper towel around his cock and shoves it back in his jeans and takes off.

I look down at the waste of cum.

It makes me fuck Josh harder.

I know that my cum won’t be wasted.

Using Bill

Northern Indiana—March, 2014

Sometime in the course of fucking the Otter, Bill had whispered in my ear that he wanted some of my cock. But not that night.  I nodded and slipped into the hole at hand.

Next day I got a text.  When could I meet?  Bill wanted a session where he would not be in control.  This made me hard just thinking about it.  Taking this nasty pig top to places he usually forces others to go sounded like a great evening.  We agreed on a day.

I drove the back roads to Northern Indiana this time.  Bill was looking his hottest:  a work built body, tattoos that enhanced it, buzzed hair and a highly groomed goatee and chinstrap.  He was wearing nothing but a pair of tight Levi’s that showed an ample bulge.

The partner was out for the night.  Their sling was still in the living room.  The dogs were just as noisy, and happy to see me.  They were quickly banished to the bedroom.  Moments later, he came out of the bedroom door naked.  And Ready.

“Kneel.”  I point to the floor right in front of me.  I have used his absence to get naked but for a piss flavored jock and my combat boots.  He leans in to tongue my jock.  I stop him.  “Your wrist.”  I touch his left shoulder again.  He holds up his hand.  I place the leather restraint around it.  And buckle it securely.  And then the right.  His hands go behind his back.  I hook the right and left together.  Only then do I grind my piss-stained jock into his face.  “Now lick it and get me hard.”  My voice is low.  Intense.  Meant for just his ears.

He tongues the fabric; he chews on it.  A testicle slips out.  He lovingly slathers it with spit.  I reach down and pull the other out.  I hold them together and push them into his open mouth.  My cock is stiffening—actually hurting a little being contained in that damp jock. I pull it out.  And slap him across the face with it its meaty hardness.  “Suck me.”  He engulfs every inch.  “Get it wet for that hot hole of yours.”  He chokes on my cock.  I pull out to let him recover a little, then fuck his face hole.  Fast and shallow.  Then I push in slowly.  All. The. Way. In.  I hold it there until he chokes.  Tears spring up in his eyes.  I pull out, pull his head back and spit in his face.

I look down. I must be doing what he wants for his cock is the largest I’ve ever seen it.  And dripping.  I unfasten his wrists and get him up.  “Sling.”   Once in, I fasten his wrist to the chains by his head.  I add ankle restraints on his legs.  I clip them to the chains.  I hunker down and taste his hole.  His ass is moist and ready.  I dig my tongue deep, then stand up and spit into his mouth.  “It’s time to fuck.”  My cock pushes into him. All at once.

“Easy…” he grunts.  And then regrets it.  I pull out and slam back into him, treating him just like I have watched him treat our mutual boys.  He grunts again.  And takes it.  And even manages a “Thank you, Sir.” 

I fuck him for a long time.  When I have had enough for the moment, I pull out.  I walk down the side of the sling, proffering my obscenely wet cock to him, straight from his ass.  “Clean it up.”  Bill slurps away noisily.  I spit in his mouth again.  This time there is a clear “Thank you, Sir!”

I pull out my homemade spreader bar.  I hook it to the D rings on the two ankle restraints.  “Now hold the pipe,” I tell him. “I want your ass higher.”  The blindfold comes out of my bag next.  I push it into place.  “Now just relax.  He looks great all trussed into place. 

I add the egg shaped dildo.  It slides in rather easily after my cock.  I can see in his face when the head of it hits home.  I fuck him with it.  I add my cock alongside it and double fuck him. This makes his hole go all puffy.

I pull out, leaving the dildo in place.  Again I have him clean my cock.

And now I’m all over him.  I am cleaning his exposed pits.  Chewing on his nipples.  Or twisting them.  I fuck him briefly.  I spit on his hole.  I spit on his nipples and work it in.  I pinch his cheeks to make his mouth open and spit in it again.

I pull the dildo out, and shove it into his mouth.  Bill grunts and holds onto the spreader bar as I fuck his wide open ass.  I only stop to catch my breath.

And I remember another toy in my bag.

I spread a towel on the floor.  “Out you come.”   I remove the dildo, undo the various fasteners, but leave the restraints on his wrists and ankles.  “All fours.”  He’s a little wobbly, but makes it.  I grab a latex coated balls-on-a-string set. There are 5 of them.  The first pops in with ease.  Then another and another.  The fourth takes work.  But I get it lubed and planted.

I pull them out slowly.  Each emerges from his ass with a sigh from Bill.

I pull the last one out and plunge my cock into his winking hole. 

“Sir.  The time.  He’ll be home in ten minutes.”

“Then it’s breeding time.”  I pull out and stand up.  “Get back in the sling.”

I look at the swollen lips of his ass. 

Used. 

Wrecked.

I grin and push in one last time.