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Near Home—December, 2016

Kurt, the man who used to take most of my arm up his ass, is pulling back from all that mass going up him.  He’s concentrating on dick.  He asked for another public fuck at the bookstore.  It worked out quite well.  I was given exquisite head by a young African American to get ready to fuck Kurt’s very white ass.  I did.  Cam, a local top, happened to be there and filled Kurt’s mouth with his dick as I fucked him.  Cam gave Kurt a load to swallow.

Kurt pulled off me and went to one of the other men watching us fuck.  He sucked the guy and made him shoot.  Kurt came back to me, drooled the load he’d just taken onto my cock and had me fuck it deep into his gut.

It was a mind fuck—and Kurt came very fast as I churned that cum into his ass.  He left after cleaning up.  And while all that was hot and fun, it was another moment at the bookstore I want to write about…

I stay behind.  I am not even close to getting off.  The young African American guy returns and hunkers down between my legs.  There is a very buttoned down man watching us.  Early 40’s, suit pants, shirt and tie.  He is visibly fighting the urge to knead the front of his expensive pants with his left hand.  In his right he holds the wastebasket Kurt has just tossed his clean up napkins. 

Button Down comes and stands to my left.  I’m hoping I’ll be blowing him as I continue to get the hot young mouth on me.  But no.

Button Down sets the waste basket down in front of him.  Precisely.  He squares it so the long side of it is resting right at the tips of his beautifully polished shoes.  He undoes his belt and unzips.  He rolls the waistband of his pants down his legs so there is a very little of his suit pants touching the floor. 

His tie is loosened.  Just.  It is thrown over his left shoulder.  He unbuttons his shirt.  The tails of which are tucked into the side waistband of his skimpy designer underwear.  Only then does he pull the front of his underwear down so the waistband is under his balls. It’s a small cock.  With bigger balls.

His right hand finds the tiniest bottle of lube I have ever seen in his shirt pocker.  It’s in a tiny Ziploc bag.  He opens the bag, leaves the bottle in the bag and opens it in there.  Two tiny squirts of lube go on his dick.  The bottle and bag are sealed and stowed away.

His right hand connects with his lubed (just) dick.  He watches the movie.  He watches me getting sucked.  He has done maybe a dozen strokes on his cock.

He does a small plie that allows him to pick up the wastebasket with his left hand.

It’s his trigger.  His cock erupts—firing directly into the held basket.  Maybe three jets of cum.  He puts it down and finds a linen handkerchief in his shirt pocket alongside the encased bottle of lube.  He cleans himself up daintily.

The shirt is buttoned.  The tie tightened and the pants unrolled, still holding their crease.

He picks up the wastebasket and returns to its usual place under the fire extinguisher. 

I’d like to say he smiles at us as he leaves the room.  But no.  Eyes straight ahead, now that he is sated, he lets himself out the door, catching the handle so it doesn’t slam shut. 

Trio

 I had a trio of good play dates.  They made up for the last two…

My Playroom—October, 2016

Ross returned to the playroom.  Tall, blond and tanned.  If you saw him on the street, you’d never guess he was such pig.  He’s everything I want in a play partner.

I love working him over.  (His last session in the playroom is detailed here.  I am not writing it up in detail, as our play was very, very similar.)  Just like the last time, we did a little of all sorts of things:  piss, toys, fist, ass to mouth, cock and toys in ass, the speculums, etc.  We did it sometimes in the sling, sometimes on the fuck bench or the bed.  The rimseat is always used with that hot ass.

I came for the first time in a week—deep in his guts.  I knelt and Ross pushed out his cummy rosebud into my mouth. Heaven.

I only wished he lived closer…

Chicago—October, 2016

The piss party for October was a small affair.  My cute otter from the coat check was not there. 

There were a few new faces—always a good thing—and I made sure that my big dick welcomed them to the group, one way or another.  I had a fun, wet time—though it proved to be all mutual drinking and mutual oral.

I believe I shot my load when I was eating a newbie’s ass—and an old reliable bud pissed down that ass crack as I was tongue fucking it.

Near Home—October, 2016

Kurt, the man who has taken my arm up his ass and who proved to be such a pig at the bookstore the last time we met, wanted to go back to the scene of the crime.  It wasn’t as wild—but I got to see him in a slightly different light.

I am on the straight side, waiting for Kurt to arrive.  I am stroking, watching the porn and watching the two men looking at the big screen TV. It’s a weekday afternoon, the crowd is definitely older.  The man on the couch is one of those who can’t find his dick for the sagging stomach.  I pay more attention to the man who sits directly across from me.  He’s about my age, short, shaved head, wiry—and is stroking a short, fat cock.

Kurt comes in.  He nods at me.  He stands by the door and gets his own sizable dick out.  He watches me watching the man across from me.  I can see him get the idea.  He walks to the man.  “Suck my dick,” he says.  It’s not a question.  It’s a command.  Fat Cock leans forward and takes him to the root.  Kurt grabs his ears and face fucks him.

I am liking this—I rarely see him in this role.

“Get on your knees and do it right.”

The man slides out of the chair and to the floor, never letting Kurt’s dick out of his mouth.  He is stroking his own at top speed.  Kurt holds his head again.  The face fuck looks brutal, but Fat Cock doesn’t let out a murmur. 

“You want me to fuck you?” Kurt asks him, in as voice that fills the room.

Fat Cock nods. 

“Over there.”  Kurt points to chair next to me.  Fat Cock drops his pants and kneels on the seat of the chair.  Which puts his head in my direction.  “Suck my friends cock.”

I stand and stick my dick into Fat Cock’s mouth.  It’s velvety and he has great tongue work.  Kurt spits on FC’s pucker.  I watch as Kurt lubes his dick.  He beats it against the up turned ass and shoves it into Fat Cock’s waiting hole.

FC groans around my cock.

“He has a great hole,” Kurt tells me.  “You gonna let my buddy fuck you with his bigger dick?”

FC grunts assent.

Kurt pounds into his ass.  I think he’s showing off for me.  Fat Cock is loving it.  The sounds of fucking fill the room.  The other man is stroking wildly, watching us, not the movie.

Kurt pulls out.  “Change.” 

We do.  Kurt shoves into his mouth, not waiting to see if the man will suck on a cock pulled from his ass.  FC is totally turned on by being used.  I push into his butt.  It’s juicy enough that for a millisecond I wonder if Kurt has loaded him.  I fuck him—giving him every inch.

We trade again.  I bring my cock to his mouth.  He cleans it.  I pull out of his mouth and watch Kurt fuck his hole.  I go behind Kurt and stick my cock into him.  He grunts and tells Fat Cock that he’s now being fucked by me.  I stand still and let Kurt do the work.  He fucks into FC on the thrust and impales himself on me with the backstroke.

It can’t go on long.  It’s too intense.

“Cum on my dick,” Fat Cock pleads.

Kurt rips out of him and Fat Cock turns and sits on the chair.  Kurt shoots his usual mega load all over the jerking man’s cock.  I move into place to shoot myself.  I am beating myself hard to get there.  Kurt goes from firing all over the man’s dick to his knees to catch the load Fat Cock is about to fire.

FC strokes his cum soaked cock and shoots a load that spatters Kurt’s face.

That is enough to set me off.  Half my load land lands on FC’s cock and half goes into Kurt’s wide open mouth…

Kurt Takes On the Room

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Three Balls

My Playroom—December, 2015

Kurt sent me a text.  He needed another session in my playroom.  His time with me is always a wet affair.  He loves piss play almost as much as he loves the incredibly large toys he brings over for me to stick up his ass.  Or my hands—sometimes up to the elbow.

We did all that.  (Well, not quite to the elbow this time.)

He even left me an ass missile of at least 15 inches that he didn’t care for—“I’m sure you know someone who will like it.”  (And he was right…I found that person just a couple of weeks later.)

So after the fucking, after the piss, after the toys, after my fists, it was time to fuck again.  But his hole was not tightening down enough for me.  I reached into his toy box…

My black nitrile gloved hand, still covered in globs of Crisco, pulls out a stainless steel ball bearing.  I lube it easily with what’s left on my gloves.  It’s the size of a billiard ball and feels heavy in my hand.  A slight push on his puffy hole and it disappears into him.  Kurt groans aloud and huffs some poppers.  

I reach back.  The second ball is greased and inserted.  I hear the click as the balls hit each other deep in his bowels.  Kurt moans and I see his eyes roll back in his head, just before he closes them. He knows what’s coming. 

I stand up and poke my raw cock at his hole.  It is slightly open after all this play and I enter him easily.  The bottom of my cock glides over the ball bearings, while the balls push my dick up against the top of his ass canal.  He’s tight now—as tight or tighter than when I first entered him 90 minutes ago.  I love the glide over the balls.  They are still cool from the cold temperatures of the drive over.  The contrast of the cool metal and hot flesh makes me fuck him particularly hard.

Soon enough, I slow down.  I reach for the third ball.  I have to bend and pull out to get at the tub of Crisco.  I grease and insert the silver orb.  It clicks into place.  I use the left over Crisco on my dick.  It looks particularly obscene:  my red engorged flesh slathered with the white lube by the black glove. I push into him.  Kurt groans and huffs some more.  He’s tight.  I move slowly—opening his ass up all over again.

I never stop the fucking motion.  Kurt is in heaven.  He calls me a “filthy fucker.”    I chuckle and just keep fucking him.

Abruptly, I stop and pull out.

“Push the balls out,” I tell him.

He tries—but it’s not happening.  I use two fingers to get the first one closer to the exit.  He squeezes again and it fires out of his ass.  I catch it, dropping it on the towel under the sling. 

I prime the next.  “Again,” I tell him.

He squeezes, with a slight grunt.  I catch the second ball, but it slips right out of my hands and joins the other one beneath him.

His hole is tired.  I cup my hand and simply reach in, grab the ball and tuck it into the palm of my hand as I pull out. 

“Cum on me,” Kurt pleads, but he’s getting out of the sling.  No helping hand needed here.  He kneels on the towels.   “Shoot on my chest.”  I stroke my dick.  He grabs his own.  I grind my balls against his mouth and chin.  He smells them more than licks them.  The look of need on his face is intense.  It contorts.  I pull back and fire my first blast of cum on his face.  He gasps and begins to shoot himself.  My second squirt lands on his chest.  The third and fourth on his stomach.

I look down at my boots.  They are covered in his jizz.

Bottled Up

My Playroom, September, 2015

Kurt was coming back to the playroom.  This is the man who takes the largest toys with ease and my arm up to the elbow.   He is an insatiable piss drinker.  I knew there was one thing he wanted—that I had yet to give him:  being able to piss while he ate my ass in the sling.  Try as I might, I could never get the plumbing working with his tongue in my ass.

I began to hydrate.  I always do at least an hour before a piss hook up—this time I started a full two hours before he was due to walk through my door…

He’s here.  And stripping off, stowing his stuff in the tall dresser reserved for the trick’s clothes so they are out of the way.

“I want you to use me as hard as you can.”

I agree with him.

“And I brought you this.”  Kurt pulls out a small bottle from his pants pocket before he shuts them in the drawer.  “It’s about 12 cum loads of mine.  Use it for lube.”  Without waiting, he crosses to the fuck bench and gets up on it.  I move behind him.  My bladder is so full my cock won’t stand up—even with a hairy butt asking for it.  I wait until he’s huffed some poppers—then I unleash my piss all over his ass.  He groans and calls me a dirty fucker.  I don’t rim much with Kurt.  It’s something about the dynamic we have.  I reach for his bottle of cum and open it.  It’s pungent and fills the room.  I am guessing it came out of the freezer too early in the day and has slightly spoiled.  But it’s slick.  It makes my dick go into his ass with ease.

I fuck him.  As hard as I can.  Hips slamming ass.  But never as hard as he wants.  I pull out, wondering if he will clean my cock with the slightly off jizz.  No issues there.  He swallows me down  ravenously.  I fuck his mouth, pull out and go back to fucking his ass.  This time I apply the leather paddle as I ram my dick into him.  This does the trick.  He loves the sting and the sound of the leather meeting wet skin.

He cleans me again.

I pour more jizz on my dick and fuck it into his slowly gaping hole.  He is not the muscle hole of most of my fistees.  When he relaxes, it’s harder for him to tighten it back down.  The paddle is helping that.  He contracts his hole involuntarily with every thwack on his ass.

I bring my dick to his mouth.

“There’s so much cum on your dick…” he mumbles before he takes it deep into his mouth.  He takes me to the root.  I stand still and clench my ass muscles, making my cock head expand so it fills his throat.  I hold it for a moment---then pull out and go right back to his ass.

I stop mid fuck and add the last of the cum from the bottle.   Twelve loads have now been fucked into his ass and mouth.  I slow my fucking and bend to taste the frothy cum around his hole.  Actually, I don’t—it’s just soured enough I don’t want it on my tongue—but I’m glad he does.  He cleans me again, expertly.

I tell him to get in the sling.  Kurt loves to watch me fuck him in the mirror above the sling frame.  There is no need to re-lube him. 

I fuck.  The chains rattle.

I pull out and send a huge arc of piss straight into his face.  He’s caught totally by surprise.  I’m surprised I have that much force, but love watching his mouth fly open and get as much as he can.  The rest mats the hair on his chest.

“I love your piss,” he mumbles as he takes another hit of his cheap poppers.

I go back to fucking.

*****

I need a break. “You want to eat my ass?”

“You know I do,” he tells me as he gets out of the sling.

While he gets some water, I grab an empty Gatorade bottle.  I piss into it.  I fill it completely with the very pale yellow liquid.  Only then do I get into the sling.

“Start easy,” I remind him.  “Now, eat my ass.”

I let him lick all around my butt—he’s good, he’s teasing me.  I unscrew the bottle top.  Just as his tongue is finding my hole, I pour a large dollop of my still warm piss down my ass crack.

It takes a second for him to realize just what I’ve done—but the effect is electric.  He is galvanized into cleaning every millimeter of my ass crack of my piss.  It doubles his hunger.  I let him get his tongue into my hole before I pour more onto my ass, his tongue and face.

He lets out a groan that if I didn’t know him better, I would be sure he was shooting his load.  He can’t stop licking me.  But he does…just enough to say “I’ve dreamed about this.  I…”

Kurt doesn’t get to finish the thought.  I pour more piss down my crack and he stops talking.  He is at his best—so turned on he just can’t stop.  I stroke and stroke.  Wet and happy.

*****

The cum and the piss weren’t the only things bottled up.

When I was done fisting him, Kurt lay on the tarp under the sling and jerked out a load that shot over his shoulder.  I’d say he needed that…

September Round Up--Using My Head and My Hands

One:  a new personal best.

Kurt is back in the playroom.  He is the pig I have fisted up to the elbow and have put both my hands into him at the same time.  He’s a big man with big appetites and bigger toys.  I open him up with my cock—but he’s feeling over stretched.  Did he play with some of his big toys before he arrived?  I skip fucking with my wilting dick and pick up the box of ball bearings he brought with all his dildos.  I insert a 2” diameter sphere into his insatiable hole.  And then another.  I stick my dick back in.  Now he feels like a college kid.

“I have to get to work at 3:00,” he mutters, inhaling from the small brown bottle.

I pull my dick out.  I worm my hand into his warm ass and pull the stainless steel balls out one at a time.  I do a few preliminary lateral stretches on his hole.  I Crisco up both hands. Then I begin a slow crawl into him.  It always amazes me—that it feels like it is a straight shot up his insides. I inch in slowly as he huffs cheap poppers. 

I am mid forearm in no time.

I slather on more grease up to my elbow.

Soon I’m there.

And then I’m beyond.  Just.  But I can’t see the joint.

I tell him I’ve gone deeper than ever.  I hold in place.  Kurt groans, checking the mirror above him, seeing how deeply I’m buried in him. 

As I slowly pull out, his cock half erects and his balls empty without either of us touching them…

Two:  Suck-a-thon

It has been forever since I “worked” a lunch hour at the dirty book store. 

And today I’ve hit pay dirt. 

I am sitting in the back row of the straight theatre, right on the aisle.  There are eight or nine guys watching.  And all but one of them are stroking to the woman on the screen who is getting savagely butt fucked. 

A man in a business suit is leaning against the wall next to me.  The moment I sit down, he walks over and sticks his dick in my mouth.  He must have been jacking for some time, for he cums almost immediately.  He grunts quietly, but it’s loud enough for every head in the theatre to turn to us and see what is happening.  The man pulls out of my mouth, covers himself so no one can see his rather average cock and then turns his back to the others to get himself put back together.

The man sitting in front of me stands.  He wants some, too.  His thicker cock is sticking out of his blue jeans.  I take a swig from my water bottle—I want my palette fresh.  I work my tongue around his thick, flared head.  He cums fast, too.

And so it goes.  Only the one Black man in the room shoves his dick back in his pants and leaves.  The rest are all waiting for me to service them.  I have never seen the “straight” guys so brazen.  They usually make a show of no interest until they can catch the cocksucker alone. 

But not today.

And I seem to be the only sucker there—and that is amazing.  The guys don’t even fondle each other as they wait their turn.  Some don’t even let me rinse the last man’s cum out of my mouth before they stick their cock in me.

I take seven loads.  Quickly.  Efficiently.   

In no time at all, the theatre is down to the last man.  He’s been standing, watching all the others go ahead of him.  He hasn’t watched the movie since he stood up.  He’s been watching me stroke as I suck.  I hazard a guess that he’s the one who’s going to offer to do me.

But no.

He sticks his dick in my mouth.  He reaches down and touches my drooling cock.  That triggers his cum shot.  He is out the door before he can get his fly completely zipped.

And I’m alone.

I swallow.  I take a long drink from my water bottle.  I beat my meat.  No one is around now.  I know I should cum and get out of there.  How can it get better?

The door opens.  I turn to see who is coming in.  It’s the Black man who left.  He sees the empty room.  He looks at me.  He turns to leave.

I sigh.  But I don’t hear the door open.  I turn around a look again.  He’s stepped into the back corner behind the door.  And he has his thick, slightly curved cock out.  He strokes it, looking directly at me.

He wants me on my knees in front of him.

I get up and move to him.

His free left hand reaches for my shoulder.  He presses down.  I kneel in front of him.

After all the very average to small dicks I’ve sucked today, this feels massive.  I have to really work not to scrape him with my teeth.  All the other men were so excited they gave up their loads easily.  Now I have to work.  I have to earn this one.

And I do.

I get extra points when I pull off his cock and bury my face in his bull testicles.  His hand finds the top of my head and lets me know I’m right where I should be.  I’m sure guys forget about his balls—drawn to the big dick.  I have to stop touching my own cock—they reek of sex and half a day of work.

I try to go back to sucking.  He won’t let me.  His hand clamps me in place, mouth open on his hairy sack.  He grinds me into them. 

And he starts to shoot.  Only then does he release me so I can catch the second spurt on my tongue…

Three:  Marco’s Secret Spot

I spent the last weekend of the month with Marco, my room-mate from IML, down in Columbus.  We had three sessions during a relaxed, comfy weekend.  His ass is the exact opposite of Kurt’s.  He can take things every bit as big, but he still has a hole that is incredibly tight—until I work it open.

Tongue, cock and fist were never far away from his ass.

My hand was able to give him a full body orgasm. 

Repeatedly. 

The sex was so intense I don’t want to write much more about it.

I will just say we were never done until I’d coated his stretched hole with the most copious loads I have shot in years.

Cum Donor

Jackson—December, 2013

 The text alarm bleated.  It was Kurt.  He’s the man who brings the huge toys to my playroom.  He is also the man I have fisted up to the elbow.  He wanted to do something different.  I love variety, as any regular reader has figured out by now.  He hoped we could meet at the bookstore which is closest to him.  (It is the one with various viewing stations—all in one big room.  In one area you can watch all girl videos, in another it is TS/TV videos.  The gay and straight screens are side by side—so no one is sure which you are watching...)  Kurt only had time for a quick fuck before work—but he knew I could play there long after he had to go punch the time clock.  We agreed that tomorrow would work and set the time at 11:00am. 

I arrive half an hour ahead of schedule.  It’s a cold, early December day, and the video room has not even begun to heat up.  Maybe the regulars know this fact—for there is no one around.  I had hoped for a little warm up play, but I am alone.  At least the porn is good.  Eventually the room warms enough that I can remove my hat and open my fly.

Kurt is right on time.  He is dressed for the cold, too.  His tall frame is covered by many layers.  He immediately begins peeling them off and dumping shoes, pants and his coat behind the couch.  He takes off his knit cap, revealing his shaved head.  His goatee has become a full beard with the advent of the cold weather.  “I tried to get the boyfriend to give us a load to fuck in, but he ran out of time.”  I nod, as if I knew this was the plan.  “Anyone around who could give me one?”  I shake my head as I pull my pants farther open.

Kurt wastes no time in sinking to his knees and sucking me to the root.  He likes to suck cock—but would far rather have my dick imbedded in his ass.  Once they are slick with his spit, he stands up, straddles me and lowers himself down on me.  He grunts in satisfaction as my cock hits his prostate.  He bounces happily, telling me how good I feel in him.

“I need to piss,” I tell him.  Kurt is off me in no time and gets down on his knees.  I stand and let him take just the head of my cock into his mouth.  I have to wait a moment for the plumbing to go from one to the other, but I stay hard as I start pissing down his throat.  I pause so he can swallow and begin again.  Kurt’s cock, which was only half hard before, now stands up, all angry and red.  He loves piss—any piss—down his throat.  I go on for what seems like a long time.  We don’t spill a drop on the faded, worn out carpeting in front of the miss-matched sofas. 

The moment I start to piss we have our first audience member.  An older man wanders in.  I don’t think he can tell that Kurt is drinking.  It looks like he’s just sucking dick slowly.  The newcomers hand brushes the front of his khakis, but he leaves about the time my piss runs dry.

“Get on the couch.”

Kurt kneels on the edge, his arms on the back of the sofa.  His ass sticks out at the perfect height.  I spit on his hole and enter him roughly.  My balls slap hard against him. 

We get another visitor.  He looks like the typical, middle-aged, straight guy ducking in for a quick wank.  He sits beside us.  His cock is average, but suddenly oh, so hard with the live porn happening next to him.  To my surprise, he lets Kurt reposition himself so Kurt can suck his cock.  I keep fucking.  The newcomer cums fast.   I slow down.  With the guy still under him, Kurt spits the man’s cum into his hand and reaches back, coating my cock with the man’s jizz—the jizz that we both thought he’d swallowed.  The guy groans at the sight of the sticky mess on my dick.  Kurt groans as I push it into him.  I groan as the cum coats my cock and his ass canal

The guy gets out of there.  I fuck for a long time, with the extra lube churning out of his hole.  I lick some of it off Kurt’s pucker.  I also let him clean my cock, so he can taste the man’s load a second time.

No one else comes in to watch.  It’s approaching the time Kurt needs to take off.  He knows it’s way too fast for me to cum.  “Got any more piss?” he asks.

I do.  I piss down his throat again.  Kurt is beating his cock like crazy.  He shoots all over the carpet as the last of my piss is swallowed.

*****
Two hours have passed.  I have been sucking cock all afternoon.  I have gotten loads from a couple of young and hot men.  I have also given attention to a couple of men who likely don’t get much of that anymore—but I like serving a Dad.  When those now soft hands touch your ears and tell you it’s the best they ever had, I melt a little. 

And I believe in sexual karma.  God knows I will want someone to take occasional notice of me in 20 years….

In total, I have had seven loads spewed down my throat.

And I need to get off.  Get off and go home.  A few guys have sucked on it---but no one who could possibly get the load.

There are now two guys watching either the gay or straight porn.  One is the size of a house—a house with a two car garage.  The other is a furry bear of a man, his iron grey hair cropped close.  He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.  I sit and stroke with the other two men.  The bear leans over and takes my dick.  All the way to the root and with perfect suction.  I think I’ve found my cocksucker to get me off.

“I want that in my ass again.”  He stands, drops his pants and turns around.  His furry globes of flesh are perfect.  I recognize the ass.  I’ve fucked it and bred it on this very sofa months ago.  I am hazy about his face, but I recognize that furry butt.  I get him kneeling and bent into the sofa.  I eat him out.   Quickly.  I am that close.

“This may not be a very long fuck,” I murmur as I stand up.

“I don’t care.  Just give me that load again.”

I slide in.  His chute is hot and wet.  I wonder if he’s had another cock up there.  That’s all it takes—the thought makes my cock erupt.  Over three hours of play has left me with no control.  I  buck and spew my load deep into his gut.

Three Ball Bearings

Near Home—October, 2013

Kurt, the man who can take not just my cock, but my arm up to the elbow, wanted to do something different.  He sent me a text asking if we could meet at the bookstore that is fairly near my home.  I said I’d be happy to meet there—though reminded him it was not a place where we could do any hand balling. He shot back an answer saying that was fine.  He just wanted to be fucked in public and maybe get some other guys involved.

We set up a time.  We met at lunch hour—hoping to find some men needing quick release before going back to work.

 

I am sitting in the gay theatre, having purchased the combo ticket to get me into the straight theatre, too.  I know Kurt is here—I saw his car in the lot—but he’s not in either theatre.  I am guessing he’s in the arcade, which is often busier but there is no room to play in the tiny booths.  In there, any contact has to all be through the glory holes.  I am not in the mood for that.  I take a seat along the wall and idly watch the porn.  It’s not inspiring.  My cock is half hard, at best.  The only other occupant of the room is an older man behind me on the couch.  I can see him if I turn my head slightly to the left.  He is kneading his cock through his pants.

Eventually Kurt walks in.  He comes right up to me.  He’s on his knees, his tall frame folded under himself, to serve me.  He is coaxing me to full hardness before I can say hello.  With one hand on my balls, he opens his jeans with his other, keeping me in his mouth the entire time.  I stroke his shaved head—occasionally holding him in place to bury my dick deeper into him.

The action brings the older man up to watch.  He stands behind my shoulder and takes out his rather petite cock to stroke.

Kurt stands up when the floor gets too hard.  I suck his cock for a moment.  But that’s not what we are about—it’s all about getting my spit slicked cock up his ass.  He moves away and pulls off his shoes, then his jeans.  He has a red jock framing his butt.  He puts the shoes back on and bends into one of the chairs across the room.  I go over.  I spit on his pucker.  I push right in.  There is no resistance.  I am all the way home in one stroke.  I can’t tell if I’m the first one up his ass today or not.  I think I am.  I don’t really care.  It just feels good to fuck.  Kurt remembers to tighten down for the first three minutes, but then he becomes looser with each stroke.  The price of those big toys he loves—and not doing Kegels to tighten himself back down.  I am soon feeling very little.

Kurt, knowing it, pulls off me and stands up.  He has a fanny pack around his waist.  He digs into it and hands me three metal ball bearings.  Each is the size of a billiard ball. He kneels on the seat of the chair.  I lube the first ball up and pop it into him.  The second goes in and you can hear the click as they meet.  I line up the third.  This one I push in with my dick.  Damn.  He’s back to being tight.  The balls have sunk lower into his gut, so my cock travels across them as I fuck.  It’s hot skin on the top and sides and cool metal underneath.  The fuck just went from good to great.  I love the contrasting sensations.

The older man can’t believe what he’s watching.  He moves behind me and reaches down to feel my moving cock.  He settles for caressing my balls on the out stroke.  Another man walks in.  I’ve seen him around but we’ve never played.  He’s maybe 40, short and has dark hair that always looks like he’s just come in from wild weather.  He comes right over, whips out a nice sized dick and sticks it in Kurt’s mouth.  We fuck into Kurt in unison, who is grunting like a good pig. 

The older man shoots, just missing my boots.  The new guy stops himself from cumming by twisting his ball sack.  He takes out a fast food napkin, mops up his dick and takes off.  I slow and pull out.  I make Kurt clean me off—no napkin for me.  We agree to go see who else is around.

***

Thirty minutes later, we meet up again in the straight theatre.  He tells me he’s found nothing of interest.  I don’t want to tell him I have two loads in my gut.  We are currently the only guys on this side.  I’d gotten the other two occupants off—and they’ve left.  He strips down again and kneels on this much more comfortable couch.  He’s able to rest his head in his hands on the back of it.  I lick his ass.  I am pretty sure someone else has been up it, but I don’t ask.  I fuck him.  Kurt is making a lot of noise—considering we are just a cinder block wall away from the front desk.

The door buzzes.  We freeze.

In walks the guy who joined us earlier.  He opens his fly and begins jerking.  We begin fucking again.  I offer him Kurt’s ass.

“I just want his mouth.”

I turn Kurt so he can take the man’s dick down his throat.  I fuck him harder—which shoves Kurt down on his cock.  The guy is grunting and muttering under his breath.  I think Kurt is finally going to get a load down his throat. 

“Shit!”  The guy is there.  He rips his cock out of Kurt’s mouth and spills his seed on the floor.  He won’t let Kurt touch his cock again.  He leaves.

“I need to get to work,” Kurt tells me.

I was hoping to get off, but thank him and go over to the gay side.

Thirty minutes later, I’ve gotten two more loads down my throat.

I check in on the straight side.  There’s Kurt, still here, sucking a beautiful young man.

Oh, really?

H’mm….

I take off for the day.  I have no need to stop for lunch…

A Thermos of Piss

My Playroom---September, 2013

 Kurt had been after me to get back to the playroom.  The last time we’d met, I’d worked his big toys up his hole, and a good portion of my forearm.  Now that the house was my own again, we set a date.

I got a text the first thing in the morning, while I was still lying in bed, wondering if I really wanted to get up.  When I saw it was from Kurt, I was sure he was cancelling.  But no—it read:  “Save all your piss for me in a bottle.”  I smiled and went to find an old 1/3 gallon Thermos… 

 

Kurt is on his knees.  He is tall and hairy with a shaved head.  I am finishing up spraying a load of piss straight into his mouth.  He has swallowed it all.  All, but the quick spurt I shot on his hard cock.

“So this is it.”

I nod.  He is getting up on the new fuckbench.  He settles in on the padded leg rests.  His hairy ass is sticking up, waiting for me.  He expects me to rim him.  Instead, I simply stick my dripping cock into his ass. 

“Fuck!”  He huffs poppers as I ride his ass, letting my balls slap loudly on his butt.  I slow down when I feel like I can piss again.  I pull out, give one short burst of piss on his freshly fucked hole and plow right back in.  His hole is gaping.  I stop and reach for the egg-headed dildo I like to use to double fuck.  I grease it lightly, and work it up him.  Then, pressing the base down, I slide my cock right along the top side of the toy.  “Fucker!” he grunts out, his nose still in the bottle.  Now he’s back to the tightness I like.  We fuck like this for a long time.

“I want to eat your ass.”

It’s my turn on the fuckbench.  I love how it supports my chest.  Kurt kneels on the padded floor and sticks his tongue into me as deeply as he can.  He spits and dives in again.

Break time.

I find the can of Crisco in the refrigerator with his name on it.

He gets back on the bench.  I spend the next hour working his monster toys up his ass. The smallest is as big as my foot.  The largest is over 18 inches.  It takes both of my hands to get that one in place.

It’s time for my hands up his ass. 

I work them in.  Two fingers, three fingers.  Alternating hands.  Now four.  Slipping ever deeper into his Crisco-ed hole. 

I’m in.  My right hand has popped in to the wrist.  I begin the slow crawl up his ass.  I move slowly deeper and deeper.  Kurt huffs more poppers.  I look down.  I am almost there.  Another inch.  Another.  I check again.  I’m there.  My elbow is right at the lips of his ass.  I tell him. 

“Damn,” is all he says. 

I pull ever so slowly out of his ass.

I add the stainless ball bearings, pushing them in with my Crisco covered fingers.  I get three balls up him.  I add my dick.  I love the feel of the cold steel—with my cock sliding over them.  I try to piss while I’m in his hole—but I can’t quite get there.  I fuck again, listening to the “click” of the balls deep in his gut.

I pull out.  Kurt works to shoot the balls out of his ass.  He gets two of them out.  Then stands up and lets gravity help with the third.

Kurt has to clean up and go to work.  He asks if he can get off.

“Wait until you’re in the tub,” I tell him.

He begins jerking the moment he kneels in the shower.  I disappear to the kitchen, bringing back the large thermos of piss. 

“Here,” I tell him.  “I have pissed in this all morning.”

“Oh, yeah…” he moans.  Kurt’s hand is moving rapidly over his cock.

I have almost filled the 1/3 of gallon Thermos over the morning.

“Open your mouth.”

“Yes, Sir!”  He does.  I tilt the Thermos.  The tepid piss spills out onto his tongue.  He swallows some.  But a lot of it coats the hairy on his chest and the cock he is jerking.  I tilt it again.  More splashes over him.  He swallows and strokes.  Finally I turn the remainder of it over his head. 

Kurt gasps.  And shoots. 

I leave the bathroom and let him wallow in the piss and his cum…

Personal Best

My Playroom—September, 2012

After the trip to Canada, I started trying to catch up with a number of boys in my stable.  One was Kurt who is a huge piss pig and loves large toys.  The few toys I own aren’t anywhere near big enough.  He brings his own.  You’ve met him twice before in these pages, once when I managed two hands into his ass…

 He’s kneeling on the tarp in front of the sling, squirming, impatiently looking at the Dick Wadd piss video playing on my computer and wanting the real thing. Kurt is tall and quite hairy.  Except for his head.  He’s shaved off his brush cut since I saw him last.  (You should know that Kurt has asked to see if I could round up another guy.  I have—another tall, lanky top.  And that guy has brought a very young, newly out, cocksucker without really asking me.  I mention them because they were there.  After a moment of initial mutual sucking, the added two stayed by themselves on the bed and watched with mingled horror and admiration as Kurt and I finally stopped trying to involve them in play and just did what we do.)

I get my cock into Kurt’s mouth.  I discretely give him my piss load, so as not to frighten the newbies.  He swallows it down greedily, never showing he is doing anything but seemingly sucking my cock.  He grins up at me.

The moment of mutual play happens.  Everyone has everyone else’s cock in their mouth in the first five minutes.  The newbies gravitate towards each other and trade blowjobs on the bed.  I get Kurt into the sling.  He can’t give me much time today so we get right to it.  I rim for a moment, so my cock is at its hardest.  I slip in.  His ass is hot and muscular.  I fuck.    He loves my cock, but he wants more.  I slip two fingers of my left hand into him along the shaft of my cock.  He grunts in appreciation.  The added stimulation causes my cock to swell—thicker and firmer—and to drool into his ass.

I keep a can of Crisco in the refrigerator just for Kurt.  I have it out on the table next to the sling.  I put on black latex gloves on both hands.  I reach for an 8 inch dildo as thick as my wrist.  The boys on the bed watch---the young one with a little apprehension.  The white grease covers the black silicone of the toy.  My hand masturbates the dildo, showing it off to the room, giving it a twisty hand job.  I slap it against Kurt’s hole, and start to insert.  His ass swallows it down.  No real pressure applied, it just disappears up his ass.  I leave it in place and grab the next up.  It’s a good 10 or 11 thick inches of a pink color not found anywhere in nature.  My hand covers it in grease.  I remove the first and insert the bigger one.  This time he grunts as it hits home.  I work it slowly in and out.  Then twist it slowly in his gut.

(The guys on the bed shoot.  And leave.)

 There is an even bigger ebony colored toy that gets the same treatment.

It’s back to me for an instant.  For all the size he’s just taken, his ass tightens back down to make me feel good.  I stop, knowing what he really wants.  I grease both fists…

I start with two fingers of my left hand, pulling them out as I insert with two from my right.  Then three with the left, three with the right.  Four.  He takes me faster than almost any man I know.  The lips of his ass soon clasp around my wrist.  I hold for a long time….and then slowly pull free, the hair on his ass looking even darker against the white of the Crisco.
I’ve learned I fist in a slow 4/4 time.  In, hold, twist and out.  Repeat.  Now use the left.  Then a slow lateral stretch with the fingers of both hands.  Once he takes me the first time, I can insert my whole hand each time with no hesitation.  I trade hands each time. 

I look at his box of four billiard balls, but decide not to use them.

My left hand is in place.  We begin talking about the guys who have left.  My fingers are slowly, relentlessly, moving forward.  I discover the next opening, the next turn, the path of his colon.  I inch my hand ever deeper.  Quarter inch by quarter inch.  He huffs some poppers.  He prattles on about a guy he met at the bookstore.   I creep around the next slight bend in his guts.  We hit the middle of my forearm.  I mention some of the guys I’ve seen lately.  I’m now deeper than I’ve ever been up him.  He tells me about his non-playing boyfriend.  He takes another popper rush---and I’m there.

“Look up.”  He squints at the mirror on the top of the sling frame.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah…”

I’m up to the elbow.   I flex it to show the joint is half hidden in his ass. 

Kurt smiles, staring up at the image of him impaled on my arm.

“That’s as deep as I’ve ever gotten with anyone,” I tell him.

“With your arm,” he assures me, “I can take you half way to your shoulder.”

A challenge for another day.