Lansing—March,
2020
The top man with who I love to
share hole—often at a Michigan campground—wrote me. Work was getting him down. Prepping for the pandemic, which he knew
would come to Michigan any day now, was exhausting him. He needed release. He needed me.
But not to fuck alongside him. He
wanted my dick. Inside him. To fuck his hole.
This was not altogether new. We had tried it once before. BB.
That’s not Bare Back—but Before Blog.
It had been that long ago when I had eaten him out and he had managed to
take most of my dick, but not all, and not for long.
He wanted to try again. The itch in his hole was constant.
So, on a Saturday night at the top
of the month, I came up to scratch it…
We
are in his basement. His arms are wrapped around my chest. Tight.
Without a word he kneels. My jock
pouch swells. I ruffle his iron grey
hair and tell him to suck me. He
lingers, inhaling the jockstrap. This is
an exclusively cum marinated jock, as I know he has little interest in
piss. As he stares at the outline of
cock under the worn, stained fabric, I glance around the room. He has curtained off an area for play—cutting
off all the unused furniture and storage boxes from view. There is a sling and a flat fuck table side
by side. Porn plays. The light is dim—and reddish. We look hot in jocks and boots.
He
pulls back the fabric. He takes a long
moment to get my cock out. It brushes
his cheek as it uncoils. He hesitates
for a moment then takes me into his mouth.
A third of my dick disappears. I
let him set the tempo of the cocksucking.
For the moment.
He
comes off it and moves his lips up and down the shaft. Then he ovals again and takes down half of my
prick—enough to hit the back of his throat.
He pauses…and pulls off me. I
guide his head into my balls. “Lick
them. Don’t suck. Lick them.
Make ‘em nice and wet.”
He
does as he’s told. I like giving orders
to this ex-military man. I pull my
dick to my stomach so it allows better access for his ravenous tongue. He gets the hairy orbs good and wet. When I’m ready, I lower my cock and drill it
into his mouth. This time he takes ¾ of it…with
the tiniest gag. I pull out and thrust
into him again. Just as deep. He takes it with no problem.
I
fuck his face. My hands clamp onto the
back of his head. I don’t go as deep—but
there is no escape from my pistoning cock.
Five strokes. Ten. I stop and let his ragged breath come back to
normal. The moment it does, I fuck his
face again. Ten strokes…the last two a
little deeper. He almost gags, but
controls it. I pat him on the head. A job well done.
“Get
in the sling. I need to eat your hole.”
He
does. I get his ankles into the
stirrups. I lube my cock as I kneel and
dive in. I hear the poppers crack open
as my tongue finds his tight pucker. It’s
not tight for long. Between my insistent
barrage of pointed tongue strokes and the poppers, he flowers open. I change to wide licks of the entire ass
crack ending with me spitting directly into his hole. My tongue drives each gob deep in his chute. Over and over again.
“I
want…your dick in me…so bad…” He is lost
in his own world of poppers and pleasure.
I
eat him out a little more, then stand and enter his open hole. Just my cock head. It makes a satisfying pop as his ass ring snaps
over it. He grunts, takes a hit and I
barely move. Just the tiniest of thrusts
forward.
I
pull out and lick his now open hole. I
spit. I stand and stick myself into him
again. Maybe two inches of cock. Again, I barely thrust. I just keep slowly opening his hole. Getting him used to having something in
there. He grunts his pleasure—keeping
his eyes tightly shut.
I
repeat the process once more. This time
as I push in, I slide in all the way. I
don’t mean to, but his ass is open and welcoming. I hold, my thick bush grinding against him. He inhales from the bottle and I begin to
fuck.
“Oh,
yeah…fuck…Argh…FUCK!” he groans. I am
doing a very measured, slow fucking of his ass. I build up speed. I don’t bottom out with each stroke…maybe he
gets the full shaft every third or fourth time.
His cock is erect…but soon the poppers and the clamping down of his ass
takes it down. I reach forward and twist
his nipples slightly. He gasps, but
groans his approval.
My
fuck picks up tempo. Soon I am giving it
to him full throttle.
Then
I slow. Stop. I surprise him by eating his well fucked hole…his
hole that can’t quite close now.
I
stand up and fuck him hard for a second time.
I
get him out of the sling and we stretch.
I
bend him over the table, chest to table top.
I kneel behind him and tongue his battered hole. I
taste his juices and my own, unmistakable preucm. I stand and slip inside again. He is not comfortable here. His head and back arch up…and I grab the back
of his neck and force him back down to the table. I drill him deep. And hard.
Only
then do I let him up.
We
break for water.
Back
in the sling I use a vibrating butt plug on him for variety, fiddling with the
controls.
My
dick goes back in, too. Slow, but soon it's too fast. Steady to pile driving.
And
that does it.
He
asks me to stop. His hole has had it.
We
talk—we both want to get off. What about
going to the bathhouse? Both knowing this
could be a last trip for a very long time.
We
clean up a little, get dressed—and get in his truck…
Next time: Getting off in a familiar ass….
