The Sub with the Muscle Butt

Indianapolis—November, 2019

The first 10 days of my temporary relocation to the Indy area for an eight week contract, was all about getting settled at work and getting my life sorted out in my temporary digs.  I had one chance to get away, but I had to use it to go home—which is how I ended up at the bookstore in the previous post.  But now things were settling into a routine—and I was horny and ready to meet some new faces.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about my first meet was that Marshall had written me in advance of my coming when I posted a travel ad on BBRT.  We had chatted.  We seemed very compatible.  He understood about my settling in time.  We talked a few times more, once even when he knew I couldn’t meet yet.  But we actually did meet—he didn’t disappear into the ether like so many men when I finally had the time.

Marshall had a sling, so mine could stay in the trunk.   He would cover the bed in one of those neoprene spreads.  He told me he was very sub, wanting to work on fist, but mostly wanted to be worked over by a Dominant man with a big dick.

Perfect.

I drove in and arrived at his ranch style house.  Marshall was within 5 years of my age, one way or the other.  And hot.  His head was shaved.  He was short.  He was naked but for a pair of running shorts which showed off the hours he had worked on his body.  He showed me into where everything was set up in the bedroom.  He left me to leather up while he did one last rinse.  He had great porn playing on his computer.  I was totally swollen inside my Fukd jock pouch when he came back in—now in just a blue jock and boots.  Being a good boy, he knelt and bowed his head…

I get up off the bed, where I have been sprawled, watching an older Raw Fuck Club movie.  I stand in front of him, my boots on either side of his knees.  “Get my jock wet.  Yeah, lick the pouch.”  

Marshall needs no more encouragement, he is hungry.  He mouths the fabric before sucking it—even chewing it at one point.  He pulls the pouch away from my engorged dick with his teeth.  It springs out and smacks him in the face.  He moves for my cock head.

“Lick my balls.  Get those just as wet as the jock.”  He does.  And he listens—he licks my balls and does not try to suck them into his mouth.  Only when they are covered with his really white saliva do I let him suck my cock.

He’s a natural.  I love what he doing to me—the suction, the amount of spit, the tongue action.  I let him set his own pace at first, but eventually I grab the back of his head and fuck his face.  When I let go, he thanks me.  And waits for me to tell him what to do next…”Good boy.  Go back to my balls.”

He licks them again.  I tell him he can suck them into his mouth if he’s careful—and just one at a time.  I sit on the edge of the bed and, once he’s alternated on my balls, I tell him to try to get into my favorite spot—his tongue between my cock ring and my balls.  He manages it.  Over and over.  But his tongue keeps dipping down the length of my perineum. 

“You want to taste my ass?”

He groans out a yes.  I pull my legs up and his tongue hits my pucker.  Fuck, he’s good at this, too.  But it makes me want to taste his.  I roll back into a sitting position and tell him to get on all fours next to me.

I spend a long time getting acquainted with his muscle ass.  I lick and prod with my tongue deep into his currently tight hole.  It begins to loosen with so much attention.  I stand up and poke my wet cockhead into him.  Then I go back to eating him out.  I keep repeating the eat/poke regimen again and again, each time letting a little more cock slide into him. 

I can tell he is uncomfortable.  Knowing he won’t say anything, I ask if he wants to ride me.  He does—and I can hear the relief in his voice.  I lie down and he wets my cock once more, slurping on my now ass flavored prick.  He sits on me and descends at his speed.  Slowly.  He bottoms out—holds—and begins to ride.

He loves being in control of how his hole is opened.  Soon he is slamming himself down on me.  He rides my shaft until his legs can’t take it anymore.

“Sit on my face.”

He crawls over me and lowers his muscle butt down until there is a firm seal and I can get no air.  I tongue his freshly fucked hole until I almost pass out.  Reluctantly I tap him on the hip to get him off my face. 

He goes right back to my dick.  He rides me, and unprompted, brings his freshly fucked hole for another inspection by my tongue.

We break for some water.

“I didn’t give you much of a chance to eat my ass.”

I get in the sling.  He instantly kneels.  This is so much better.  He hands me his poppers as he begins to tongue every inch of my hole, cheeks and hairy perineum.  I actually lose track of time as I let him use his tongue and lips on me—leaving me delightfully wet and sticky.

We change.  I am now so ready to plow his ass.   I help him into the stirrups.  And suddenly let a blast of piss cover his ass crack.  I kneel to clean him up with my tongue as he moans.  I stand up and finally push into his wet hole. 

I fuck him.

Hard. 

Then slow.  Letting him feel every inch.

I stand still and move the sling—pushing him away from me and ramming him back on my dick.

Again and again.

*****

We do try some fisting—and opening him a little more with some toys.  I never quite get my whole hand in him…and neither of us care for the fucking, that we keep returning to, is intense.

“I am going to cum soon,” I tell him as I keep on fucking.  “You want my load?”

“Yes, sir.”

A few more strokes.

“In your ass, boy?”

“Yes, Sir!”

I gather speed.  I really am close to letting up a good six day load into his hungry butt.  I thrust a few times more—and I’m over the edge.  I shoot blast and blast into him.

He milks my cock for every drop.

He cleans me when I move around the side of the sling.

I kneel and felch a few drops, holding them in my mouth to snowball to Marshall…