(Here, as promised, is Jake's take on our play of the previous post.)
Gusts
of wind and rain had swept through the Wolverine State all night long and well
after daybreak. The weather was still bleak, unsettled and lowering when I left
home for a two-hour drive down to Felching Pisser’s new quarters, in a lovely
town that once was our state capital. He’s been there for a while now, and this
visit is my third this year, once in the beauty of springtime, then in the warm
weather of early summer, and now in the late fall, in the face of a major
“weather event” sweeping across the Midwest.
Treetops
were tossing, limbs had fallen, and loose brush tumbled across the road as I
drove along. But the roads were free of traffic, and I was desperate for a fuck
and a fist, so I kept going. I called
ahead to let FP know that I was not far away, since it looked like I would
arrive much earlier than we had planned.
FP
opened his front door to greet me, and we hugged each other. He was looking well, handsomely dressed and
even slimmer than usual, his body very firm to the touch, up and down.
Physically we are different in every way, but I love his build and personality
nonetheless.
It
wasn’t long before we descended to his subterranean playroom, not as large as
the old one, but much more like a dungeon than a bedroom. I was soon undressed and harnessed for play
(bull dog harness and leather cock and ball stretcher). I wanted to top up my
poppers dispenser, but couldn’t find the bottle of Rush I was sure I’d packed
for this visit. When FP fucks or fists
you, you don’t need poppers; he will be in my ass before I know it. However, they are an enhancement to play, but
today I will have to do without.
We
began by standing up and pressing our bodies close together, my soft flesh
grinding into his hard and bony body. As
always FP made the first move, working my nipples hard enough to make me
lightheaded. My dick stirred and I let out the first moan of the day. I sat on
the bed with my head level with his crotch and gave him head for a bit. Last time I had been able to deep throat him
to our mutual satisfaction, but not today.
“The immensity of his enormity” (to borrow a romance novel phrase) was
just too much for me.
Then
it was on to the fuck bench. FP adjusted
my position to his liking and then lubed my hole by rimming me and working his
spit into my hole. He lubed his legendary dick and thrust in. In only a moment or two he was fucking away,
and I was up on all fours, rearing back, enjoying what always feels like the
best fuck of the year. A dildo was added
to the dick, and we all four fucked on together.
Then
a much more massive object was shoved into place, and more fucking
followed. I couldn’t see, of course, but
FP had gotten out the Oxballs Pig Hole I had gifted to his collection some time
ago. He had mounted it on his dick, and then shoved dick and dildo into my
sloppy hole in one firm blast. At some
point, either before or after, FP shoved in his first fist of the day, followed
by his dick, for a power-assisted fuck.
At
FP’s command, I lifted myself off the fuck bench and laid back into his sling.
FP bound my ankles into the sturdy and handsome cuffs (his brother’s
workmanship) that hung from the sling chains, and I happily settled in. The
more serious assplay began, but before long the lights went out, and more
importantly, the little space heater died on the spot. A quick search showed that power had gone out
for the whole neighborhood. There was just enough daylight from the little
window to allow us to keep going.
Lots
of fucking, fisting, and dildo/speculum play ensued, until we both needed a bit
of a rest. I lay on my side, and FP rolled up into my arms. It was already cold enough to make cuddling a
necessity. I made a quick survey of all
the hills, ridges and hollows of his body, letting my hand come to rest on his
bulging yellow jock. Then I passed out, until FP was up again and ready to
continue.
It
was time to load my balls into my current favorite toy, a custom-made wooden
ball crusher, climb back into the sling and present my balls for his
pleasure. FP went to work, but something
seemed to hold him back. He never wants any pain near his balls, and so it may be
difficult for him to get into ball crushing; but I enjoy it, and for the first
time truly regretted not having access to my poppers. We finally set my balls
free from the crusher and went back to fucking and fisting. FP was seriously working up to a double wide
fisting, but for the moment, all I could take was one hand and four fingers of
the other. Again, where are the poppers when you really need them?!
Time
and temperature were taking their toll.
FP works hard at whatever he does, and I am happy to take all he cares
to give. But the room had sunk from
pleasantly warm to noticeably cool, and now it was downright cold. I began to
shiver a bit, and FP covered my torso with a bath towel. I pulled it up over my shoulders. Finally FP decided we had played long enough
(we began before 1 pm, and now it was well past 3!). I agreed and tumbled out of the sling once
more.
We
dressed in record time. I was about to put on my shoes when the bottle of Rush
rolled out of the left one! We laughed at the irony of it; I had looked into
every nook and cranny of my toy bag, but never thought of checking my shoes.
Upstairs again, FP finished changing into street clothes, and we jumped into my
Ford Ranger. We fired up the truck and
set out to tour the town while the cab warmed up. We stopped at a shop to pick up hot spiced
tea (two 24 oz. cups) and continued our tour until we were both warm again,
inside and out. The flow of talk never
ceased, in sharp contrast to our play sessions, when FP only speaks to give a
command, and I grunt, moan and yell, but seldom use any words.
In
other words, it was just another installment in the long history of our
friendship, and one more batch of great memories added to our store. This time
together was made all the more memorable for having done all this stuff in a
stone-cold room, getting colder every minute. The weather outside may or may not
be frightful, but in a playroom you want just a bit of warmth! But one way or
another, sex with FelchingPisser is always the greatest of life’s pleasures.
