Jake Visits the Playroom

My Playroom—March, 2018

The top of March was unseasonably warm.  I opened the playroom.  The temperature in that room of the old Victorian I live in really reflects whatever the temperature is outside.  I still needed to run a space heater, but the playroom was ready for business.

The first man into it was Jake, eager for my hand (and other various body parts) to get back into his ass.  I was set up and ready at our appointed time.  And he was late.  He’s always early.  Something must be up.  I shot him a text—he was still a ways away.  He was tremendously apologetic—he’d let me know he was running late by email, but his motel connection was terrible and he guessed it may have been lost in the ether.

I began a blog piece as I waited.  He arrived in a flurry.  He wasted a mammoth load of piss in the toilet and we headed upstairs. 

Jake strips down and stows his clothes in the drawers of the high boy.  He has a very large leather ball stretcher on.  With barely a word he gets up on the padded fuck bench.  I fall to my knees and begin eating his ass.   He reaches back and pulls the cheeks apart.  I’m there for a very long time.  I finally will myself to stop licking and start fucking.

I go in easily with all the spit I’ve left behind.  I fuck with slow, even strokes.  I know I will be there a lot today.  I’m in no hurry.  I pull out—whoops—a car trip has once again destroyed a clean out.

Back on the bench I work the freshened hole.  We do some ass to mouth—something vaguely new to Jake—at least with me.  He loves it.  Especially on poppers.  I rotate around the bench a number of times.  Each time I get back to his ass, I fuck him harder and faster.  The last time, I put my boot clad foot up on the knee rest, giving me extra leverage into his hungry hole.

We switch to the sling.  Jake’s eyes are glued to the mirror above.   My cock prods his gaping hole.  I enter him.  A little roughly.  I’m suddenly all about it being for my pleasure.  I fuck him hard.  I grab the ball stretcher.  I squeeze, making the two orbs even shinier as the skin stretches.   The palm of my right hand comes down and gives them a stinging blow.  Jake grunts.  Appreciatively.  I do it again. His response is louder.  Once more.  He begins to pant and I go back to concentrating on drilling him with my dick.

*****

It’s fisting time. My hands are greased and begin exploring the hole where my cock is so at home.  A few fingers.  A lateral stretch.  My left hand glides in.  I twist and pull out—ever so slowly.  I stand and fuck the hole.  Back to fingers and then my right hand. 

A quick fuck.

I grab the egg-headed dildo.  It goes in easily now.  I add my dick.  His hole once again feels like the first moments of the afternoon.  I fuck with it in place, reveling as my cock glides over the ribbing of the toy.  I pull my dick out but leave the toy in place.  I work my hand into him so I can hold onto the toy in situ.  I hold it and slowly turn it deep in his guts before I pull it out.

Alternate hands now.  Slow and nice.  Creating a rhythm to enter with a twist, turn inside, curl into a fist, turn and pull out.  Left.  Right.  Left.

I begin some speculum spreading.  And then some prostate stroking—sending shivers through Jake.

“Trap it between your fingers.”

I do.  I squeeze.  He takes a hit.  I do it again.  And again.

More hands.  Left.  Right.  Left.  Right.

I have the left in place.  My greased right hand slides down my left wrist.  I enter him carefully.  He pushes out slightly.  I slide in.  My right hand is cradled by my left.  I hold it in place.  I think we are both surprised that I have two hands inside him so easily.  I carefully work them out. 

To make sure it’s not a fluke, I do it again. 

And again.

*****

We take a break.  Jake lies down on the bed and I wrap around him.  We almost fall asleep.  I ask if we should continue.

Jake gets in the sling willingly.  I begin some exploration with my left hand.

He has to admit he’s done.

I look at the clock on my computer—where fisting porn has been playing. 

It’s hardly surprising he is a little tender—I have been stretching him for 90 minutes. 

(In exactly 24 hours, I will post Jake's take on our session.)