Summer Relief

My Hometown—July, 2017

My summer work had begun in earnest.  For those first couple of weeks in late June, I could still manage to sneak away occasionally.  Not so once July hit.  I went a full two weeks without sex of any kind.  Before you all start muttering “Poor, put upon bastard…” let me say that I usually have some sort of sex every two or three days so it was a huge shift for me.  Some years it has been excruciating knowing I won’t have the time for any kind of fun—this year was at least not that.  I found it easier to just get so busy I didn’t miss it.  Or so I told myself. 

I was also not sleeping very well.  I would go to bed and wake up exactly 4 hours later.  I would be up for two hours feeling extremely wide awake, like I’d had my usual 7 hours.  But then I’d crash and would nap for an hour and a half before I started these incredibly full days.  I was running myself down and I knew it and felt a little helpless in how to change it. 

I was sure some of the sleeplessness was stress, but some of it was lack of sex.  But I was now so tired most of the day, I doubted I could maintain an erection.  What to do?

SpiritHole took pity on me.  We talked over a series of emails as I was eating my dinner one night.  He thought that if I couldn’t get away to come to him, he would come to me.  I reminded him there was no playroom for another 6 weeks.  He assured me it we could have a lot of fun in a motel room.  I agreed, while reminding him it would be later than we usually played as I didn’t finish up for the day until at least 10:30pm.

We set a date.  He came…

I knock on the door to his room on the first floor.  It’s the same hotel the Professor uses when he’s in town.  It takes a moment, but he opens the door stark naked—fresh from the shower.  We hug and sit for a moment.

We both look tired.  He calmly tells me that he would understand if we just wanted to talk tonight.  He’s tired too—this is much later than our usual late afternoon sessions.  I thank him—and admit to taking a Viagra as if this was some massive sex party, not just a couple of good friends fucking.

We both look to my crotch.  It’s working.  My cock has certainly woken up looking at him naked—and remembering how his ass can grip me.  This seems to wake SpiritHole up, too.  I strip.

We hug again and land on the bed.

“Let me suck you before you get too big.  My small mouth can barely take you once you are fully hard.”  He is between my legs, sucking my cock deep into his mouth.  But it’s not to last long—it feels so good my cock fully erects.  Soon my cockhead is connecting with all of his teeth.  He stops with a laugh.  He spits on my cock and crawls up my body and sits on me.  The glide down is exquisite.  It’s been so long—and his hole is always special. 

SpiritHole bottoms out on me with a sigh.  He grinds into me for a moment.  Then he begins rhythmically squeezing my cock with those incredible ass muscles.  Milking me.  Sending literal shivers through me.  He’s in control for a change.  And he’s taking full advantage of it.  He pulls himself up almost all the way and lowers himself slowly.  He varies the speed.  He varies how far he pulls off my dick.  He bends repeatedly to kiss me.

“We need to do…this position,” he pants, at one point, “…more often.”

He’s getting no complaints from me—I just let him pleasure the two of us on my cock.

Eventually I have to be a little active—I start bucking up into him.  He moans and I think he has the first of his many internal orgasms.

*****

We switch to a pretty typical doggy—SH kneeling right on the edge of the bed so I can stand to fuck.  I kneel first.  I get the confirmation that his ass was spasming—I lick out huge amounts of his sweet and slick ass juice.  My cock is rampant now.  I fuck him.  I take charge and plow into him.  SH huffs poppers and babbles about how good it feels.

I flip him and get him on his back.  I kneel and clean up all the wetness I have pulled out of him.  My beard is coated with his juices.  I stand and my cock finds its way into his slippery ass canal.  We fuck with abandon.  I lean forward and let him taste himself all over my face.  He shakes uncontrollably again…

We cuddle.

I get him to bend over a chair by the full length mirror—but without his glasses, he really can’t see my engorged dick pummeling him.

We go back to the bed.  He rides me again.  He feels so wet and slick.  He has another internal orgasm.  Maybe two.

We both agree that as good as it feels we need to wind this up and get some sleep.

I have to thrust if I’m going to get off.  SH stands on the floor and leans over onto a stack of pillows.  It feels great.  You can really hear my balls smack his ass.  And I can fuck at top speed.  But it’s hard on his legs.

We re-position with him back to doggy with me still standing.  I fuck a little and I spend a long time tonguing his ass—knowing full well that that is the trigger for my load.  It works. I stand back up and shoot my two weeks worth of seed into him.

We hold each other a long time.

I finally go home.

And sleep the entire night.

The Return of SpiritHole

Ann Arbor—May, 2017

The man I called SpiritHole, the tantric sex guy with the back tattoo of entwined snakes, was home in Michigan.  He’d arrived the month before, but our schedules had never aligned—I had business travel, he had a family emergency.  But we made it work before we both went off to IML.  I packed the rimseat and drove to his beautiful, expensive home to the east of me.  We walked his gardens before and ate a terrific dinner on his porch after sex multi orgasmic sex…

He’s totally naked.  I have on just my boots, a rinsed out dirty jock and my favorite cock ring. SpiritHole has me sit on a black leather sofa up in his third story playspace.  He wants to suck my dick before it becomes too big for his mouth.  He takes me deep into his small mouth.  My cock balloons just at the thought of trying to stay soft or at least semi-hard for him.  I am almost instantly hard.  Achingly hard.  SH pulls off me in astonishment, trying not to lacerate the head.  He switches to nuzzling my hairy balls.  It feels incredible.  He’s in no hurry.  He caresses them with his tongue.  He does not pull them into his mouth.  His tongue presses into them with just enough weight and purpose to get my dick to drip.  He licks the pearl off my cock head when he finally notices it.  I lift my legs so he can concentrate on my sweet spot:  under my balls where the cock ring rests.  He works his tongue between the two—just as I’d asked him to the first time we met.  I lazily jerk my dick as he licks my perineum.  He gives a glancing swipe of the tongue to my asshole—we both know we will concentrate on that later.

I pull him up and suggest he get on all fours on the bed behind us.  He does, climbing up on the bed, covered in black leather playsheets.  I let my cock rest for a moment on the mouth of the snake…and then I kneel to feast on his already juicy hole.  I spend almost as long tonguing, teasing and spitting into his hole as he spent on my cock and balls.  But I want in.  I want to feel his anal canal grasp at my invading shaft.  I want him to milk my cock until I’m on the verge of shooting.  I want to eat him out again—now tasting of a delicious mix of our juices…

I stand up.  I slap my cock on the forked tongue of the snake and prod at his wet hole.  My dick head pushes in.  I pause.  I push again.  More of my dick disappears.  SH begins to whimper.  He tells me it’s been too long—he has missed my cock—that his hole has missed my cock.  His words open his hole and I glide the rest of the way in.  There is a moment of adjustment, before I start fucking in long, strokes.  In and out.  Grinding my pubes into the mouth of the snake.

I pick up the pace.  My wet balls slam into him now on each stroke.  He begins his familiar babble—a reaction to his delight at the feelings I’m making happen in his hole.  I fuck him this way until I need to catch my breath.  When I stop, I keep my cock in him, my chest pressed to his back.

We go to his sling.  I eat out his hole again.  It’s creamy and tastes of that mix of juices I love.  For many men, the length of time I’m down there eating him out might be too long.  Not for SpiritHole.  He knows I love it as much as he does.  He knows it makes me rock hard for my next entry into him whenever I choose to fuck again.  I hold off fucking until any other man would be begging for it.  Only then do I stand and fuck in the even wetter hole I’ve left behind.  This round is fast and furious.  He begins shaking uncontrollably as he has anal orgasm after anal orgasm.

More rimming.  Then it’s a round of slow and sensuous fucking.

More riming—and I fuck him as hard as I can.  He’s cumming internally again and again and is crying.  The next moment he’s laughing that he’s crying and then he begins shuddering again as my cock pulls another round of intense feelings deep from inside him.

We have a long rest on the bed, wrapped together.  We are both on the edge of sleep.  But my rampant cock decides it wants more sex.

We use the rimseat.  Me under first.  I eat his crazily wet hole until my jaw is tired.  I tell him it’s like the entire U of M football team has seeded him, there is so much creamy goodness in his butt.

He goes under next to work on my hole.  But he wants access to my cock as he licks my hole, so I move to the sling.  He eats my butt but makes frequent trips up to my balls and shaft.

He takes pictures.

His rimming (and my jerking on my dick as he does it) is finally making me ready to blow a load.  We change places.  I plow into his ass once more.  I stand still and move the sling back and forth—impaling him on that engorged cock each time. 

I begin to shoot. 

I shudder and fill him with my cum.

I get out of the sling.  He cleans my cock.  Carefully.  Taking more of it into his mouth. 

And SpirtHole takes a final picture.

(I love this picture...I don't have many of my cock at rest...and that jock makes me hard just looking at it.)

SpiritHole

Ann Arbor—September, 2016

We thought we were going to meet last fall, but he had a stomach bug which stopped that plan.  It took another year for us to get together.  However, since that time, we’ve met once a month.  Here are some highlights…

He meets me on the front porch of his beautiful, large house.  I bring in my bag of leathers.  Then we go outside in the fading late afternoon light to see his massive garden.  It is a work of art.  It’s late fall—I can only imagine what it must look like in the spring or summer. 

I let him lead the way.  He’s worn his leathers—but we are in such a secluded place, the city feels far away.  His eyes come alive as he talks about his plants.  (I soon learn that having sex causes that same spark.)  He has a mischievous smile.  A shaved head.  I stand next to him—I size him up at about 5’ 10”.  He’s very slim and fit from all the yoga.  And once we are inside (having grabbed my rimseat from the car) he shows me the intricate tattoo on his back.  It is of two coiled snakes—one with his mouth right at his ass.  He explains (and I know I’ll get this wrong as I write it here) about how his meditation and yoga work has released all the coiled primal energy at the base of his spine.  The symbol for that force is the serpent.  He is deeply in touch with that energy—and warns me he usually has explosive anal orgasms.

We end up in the uppermost level of the house.  One area has a Fort Troff sling hanging on its red frame.  The other area has a large double bed.  I get into my leathers as we talk some more.  I learn he’s on PrEP.  He asks about why I chose FelchingPisser as a screen name and tells me it conjures up so many great images.  He wonders aloud about what his name might be.  We come up with SpiritHole.

He is on his knees before me, getting my dick hard.  We don’t spend too long there, I can’t wait to sample his ass.  I bend SpiritHole over on the bed—his feet spread wide on the floor, his chest to the mattress.  I kneel between his splayed legs and sample the pucker highlighted by the snake’s open mouth and forked tongue.  I connect for the first time.  I go deep.   His hole flowers open.  I spit and massage it.  I stand up and enter.  He begins shaking as I bottom out.  I fuck him with slow, deliberate strokes.  I begin a build to a good fuck tempo.  He shudders and mumbles encouragement into the bed coverings.

I flip him over.  I want to see his eyes as I enter him.  I am not disappointed—our eyes lock as I push into him.  But they roll up into the top of his head as I build to a hard fuck. My hips slap his upturned ass and are the only sound in the room besides his guttural exclamations of pleasure.

*****

We’ve moved to the sling.  I am eating his fucked out hole.  SH is a great self luber.  His ass is awash with the juices that make my dick drip. 

I rim. 

I swallow. 

I insert. 

I fuck.

We take pictures.

*****

I get him on the rim seat—a new experience, I think, for SH.  He literally drips ass jizz into my open mouth.

We are there a long time.  Until I have to get up and breed him.

My Playroom—October, 2016

We start on the fuckbench.  I always seem to start there…but the ass is spread so perfectly for my tongue.  I wash his ass crack with piss (his first experience—at least with me.)  I kneel and clean him up.  

We fuck—with plenty of ass to mouth as I bring my cock, fresh from his hole, to his mouth.

And back again.

Repeatedly.

*****

In the sling now.  And I’m fucking.

“I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to piss up my ass.”

I stop drilling him.  “You mean like this?”  The warmth of my piss is spreading through his gut.  His eyes glitter and, as I start to pump, still spurting, they do the roll up into his head.  “Take every drop.”  I pick up the tempo.  I am splashing piss out on the back stroke, soaking the towel beneath us.  I churn my piss for a few minutes before I slow, pull out and taste the mix of piss and ass jizz. 

He’s so damn wet…But I don’t get the mouthful I expect.  I dig deeper.

*****

Later that session, I unwrap a wintergreen Star Brite candy and fuck into his wet ass.  “Now, let’s get you out of the sling.  I want you on the rimseat so you can feed me that out of your hole.”  I get under.  He sits.  I tongue him.  He’s wide open.  But his ass is so wet and hot, he’s already melted the Star Brite.  I eat out his newly flavored hole. 

I eat him—until I need to breed him.

Ann Arbor—November, 2016

We play on the bed.

We fuck in the sling.

“This time,” SH tells me, “I want to eat your ass on the rimseat.”

I have gotten in the sling for him to spear me with his tongue each session we’ve met.  (And he’s offered to fuck me with his uncut cock each time.)  SH gets under the seat—another first for him.  I sit.  My hole spreads.  Both of us are very happy to be there for a long time.

*****

We are on the bed.  I tie a bandana over my eyes.  I work my cock ring off—he wants to lick me everywhere.  I open my legs and get my hands under the back of my head.  He’s on top of me, then to my side, then between my legs.  He licks my cock, suckles my balls, licks my pits and spends a long time with his mouth plastered to my nipples and my mouth.

SH rolls me on my side and bends my legs.  His body is pressed to my back as his tongue invades my ass yet again.  I am warmed by his whole body. 

And I don’t feel like moving at all…