West Michigan—May, 2015
He made me feel small.
No, not down there.
Derrick is maybe four inches taller, a good 6’ 7” and a probably a 100 pounds heavier. Lots of facial hair. A true bear of a man. And an adept fisting top. We’d met over 12 years ago when I was playing at parties hosted by a couple in Indiana. I was still naïve enough to not recognize the signs of drug use. Well, I knew the couple and some of the other participants were using—but not to what degree. Derrick and I weren’t there for the “favors,” we were there to use their holes—and we did. And we didn’t need or want drugs to do it. We both stopped going after the night we found the couple’s kitchen floor awash with blood from a botched slam.
We tried a meet once on our own soon after that night. He had a Victorian house with a very well equipped playroom. But I was still a rather fumbling novice to what two tops could do with each other. He used some electro play on me, sucked my dick, and gave me some piss. I sucked his cock, pissed on his cock and ass crack. I cleaned him up, spending a lot of time tonguing his ass. He asked to be fucked. I did, but it was a rather limp, condomed fuck. I couldn’t wrap my head around this man bottoming and my dick went right along with me.
We met socially once, years later. We compared notes—I’d lost my life partner and he’d gained one. We talked of a meet in passing—one of those things you say and wonder if you will really do.
Then he joined Recon. We found each other there. We talked. And talked. We were in tune. I had changed so much. I had so much more experience. I knew my way around a playroom now. I was fucking bare. I now understood how men I perceived as tops can melt when they are around my cock.
And I wanted his boy. Well, us sharing his boy. But his boy was traveling for work. Should the two of us meet and test the waters? Well, fuck, yes…
It’s a new house—huge and set in the woods. All windows and tree lined vistas. We go to the playroom—there is even more gear now, hanging from the walls. I have brought the one thing he doesn’t own: a rimseat.
I go out in the hallway to change into my jock, harness and chaps. He’s in the same. We sit on a couch for a moment. We talk—a little catch up. And then a kiss. A kiss that is intense and erects both of us—our dicks contorting our jocks. I stand up and feed him my cock—with Derrick still sitting on the couch. He’s a good cock sucker. He can take me without teeth—always a good sign. I pull him up and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of his tongue and mouth.
I kneel and take his much more modest sized dick deep into my throat. He begins a slow fuck of my mouth. My cock responds by producing bead after bead of pre-cum.
“Let me eat your ass.”
He doesn’t have to ask twice. I raise the seat for him and let him lie down. I sit gingerly. His beard grinds into me. Fuck! No wonder my boys love my facial hair. It adds a whole layer of sensation to the rim job. Derrick is already prodding at my tight hole, massaging it into a more relaxed opening. I huff some poppers. And his tongue hits home. Christ. It feels like he is incredibly deep in my butt. I stop jacking my dick and give myself over to his tongue and beard.
He eats me for hours. Well, it can’t be, but it feels like it. Then we trade off. I get under the seat, my ass still alive with all the pleasure his face and tongue have given me. I can’t wait to do the same to him. When he sits, it’s a tight seal—something I love. I have to breathe by turning slightly to the side, but I love working his butt with my tongue until I have almost run out of air.
We only stop because he has a load of piss to feed me. Kneeling in front of him. Drinking it down. No stops—no easy squirts—just an open the pipe and dump the entire bladder. I am breathless when he finally is done. And my cock is fuckin’ rampant.
“In the sling. I need to fuck.”
Derrick is in it in no time. I lick at his ass briefly, but my dick wants to fuck him. And fuck him right this time—hard and bare. I enter him slowly—but he takes me easily. I love the look on his face—a mixture of lust and disbelief that my cock is finally back in him. I rattle the chains with a blistering fuck. Then slow it down. I pull myself out, leaving just the head of my dick in him. I grind the full length into him as slowly as I can—ending with a lean across him and a kiss. I buck my hips ever so slightly, our mouths still connected. I feel him shudder under me. I straighten up and build to a fuck as hard as the first.
I’m on break—but not really. I have just pissed a flowing river over the ass crack I have been fucking. I grind my tongue into his sodden hole. Derrick welcomes my piss dripping beard for another kiss when I’m done cleaning up his hole. Then I repeat the piss and the clean up on his nipples. Piss. Lick. Piss. Clean. Kiss. And the other side. And even better, his pits. They are fragrant and acrid from the work out. Piss on them. And lick them clean. And a kiss. Neither of us can get enough of his natural smell.
I fuck him a little more. But then I really do need a break.
“Get in the sling,” he tells me.
And we spend a blissful 30 minutes sharing the taste of my body on his tongue: Ass, nipples, cock, pits—all flavors brought to my mouth by his.
We both know we need to end it. We have to work tomorrow. “You want my load?” I ask, getting out of the sling.
“Fuck, yes. I wanted it last time.”
Derrick takes my place in the sling. I piss a little on his crack and push right in.
“Give it to me. I want you to…”
I am fucking hard. It will take no time at all. I bend to taste his mouth once more. It’s all it takes—I am bucking my seed into him as deeply as I can.
“Don’t pull out.” I have no plans to. I straighten up, so Derrick can touch his cock. He jerks it just a few strokes and sends ribbons of jizz across his chest and abdomen. I bend. Taste it. Then mash the rest of it between our chests as I kiss him again. His arms hold me in place.
I’m not going anywhere.
We are at the door. Fully dressed.
“Next time,’ he tells me, “we’ll add my Cub.
I like that idea. But we did just fine on our own.