Whore

My Playroom—May, 2014

The rest of April was all about CLAW.  I posted my escapades daily—within 12 to 18 hours of the sex.  If you missed them, you can fine the first one here.  I love CLAW— where you have literally 100’s of gay men in three hotels all looking for sex all the time—but even better for me, are the play parties in a great dungeon space.  CLAW is well worth a trip to Cleveland at the end of April.

When I came home, I really didn’t want to play—the sex had been that good.  I didn’t hang out much on the hook up sites.  I did check them each morning, but anyone I saw on there was not inspiring me to set up a meet.  One gentleman was always on Asspig whenever I checked for overnight messages.  We chatted.  I had a history with this man.  We’d met once about 7 years ago.  I tag teamed him with a top I was playing around with at the time.  I was less than impressed.  There was no real kink (if a jet Black guy and a pale white guy sharing one man’s hole is your everyday occurrence.)  He wanted to meet again.  He was now into fisting.  And he was begging for my piss. 

But I was sated.  I didn’t feel like it for a guy I was only marginally attracted to—so I kept saying no.  Finally he asked me what he could do to make me change my mind.

“I don’t know.”  I could think of nothing.  “Pay me,” I finally typed out.

“How much?” he shot back.

We agreed on a generous figure for my time.  And a date in two days time. 

I unpacked the sling after all.

Fritz is at the door.  He looks trimmer than I remember.  He admits to 65, and has the white hair to support it.  He is a big man, tall and wide, but the weight does not seem sloppy.  I knew that he still did manual labor—and it shows.  He is eager.  We go right upstairs.  He is naked and kneeling in front of me before I can get the Dick Wadd disc playing on my laptop. 

“Here.”  I pull my cock out.  I shoot out an arc of piss.  Fritz opens wide and catches it all.  I put my cock in his mouth and let him suckle the rest out of me.

“Up on the bench.”  I pull his butt cheeks apart.  I taste his hole.  And decide I’d prefer it with some piss.  I stand up and let fly a short burst down his crack.

“Damn, Sir.  Piss me.”

But I have already run dry for the moment.  I kneel again.  Much better.  I push some into his ass with my tongue.  I waste no time in getting the head of my cock in his wet hole.  I let his hole suck me in, but I don’t push in the rest of the way.  I stay for a moment then bring my cock around to his mouth.  He cleans me carefully.  I pull out with some of his deep, stringy spittle.  I move around and plunge back into his ass.

*****

Ass to mouth.  Check.

Bigger butt plug.  Check.

Egg-headed dildo. Check.

Add my cock with it.  Check.

Speculum.  Check.

Move to sling.

My fist slides easily into him.

Left fist.  Check.

And the right.  Wait, I have to work for a moment with that one.  Check.

Lateral stretch.  Check.

Piss all over his chest.  Check.

Arc some up to his baby bird mouth.  Check.

Speculum back in and add my cock.  Check.  And double check.  I love the way the cool metal and hot ass feel on my dick.

“May I eat my Master’s hole?”

I pretend to consider.  “I don’t know…”

“Please let me get under the rimseat.”

“Ok, for a little bit.”

He gets in place.  I sit down.  His mouth is right there.  He is probing me deeply.  I take a hit of Jungle Juice Platinum.  My mind flies away. 

When I come back to reality, three or four hits later, I stand up.  Fritz gives the most contented sigh. 

There is only one thing left on my mental checklist. 

I get him back in the sling and give him a huge load in his ass.  A week’s worth of jizz. 

Fritz is delighted with the two hours of play.

And tips me 20% over what we agreed.

*****

There’s a sequel of sorts.  At the end of the month Fritz is back.  He’s brought a fisting top with him.  I have made myself available for I want to meet this new transplant to the area.  He’s tall and rangy.  A former leather title holder. 

And a man after my own heart.  We look at Fritz, all expectant in the sling.

“Do you want to go first?”  I ask, ever the gracious host.

“Let’s flip for him.”  He pulls out a coin from his leather vest.  “Call it.”

“Heads.”

“Tails.”  He reaches for the Crisco and begins greasing his massive, hairy paws. 

No losers here.  I feed Fritz piss as the Leatherman hunkers down and opens the hole in front of him.