My Hometown, July, 2010
I wrote this as an email to the Breeder last summer. I was knee deep in my summer work madness, but a fuck bud came down on a lunch break for a quick fuck. He checked into the seediest motel in town. I made sure I kept my socks on…
Friday, I finally got some real relief. A Marshall fuck-bud took pity on me--coming down and getting a motel room. (The more cynical side of my nature says he was really avoiding his new BF who had cut down on a couple years of mutual play time.) Dan's short, barrel chested, with a shaved head and a nice dick--a dick that got touched by me for about 10 seconds. It was all about ass. The first I'd tasted in weeks. I couldn't get enough. He prefers next to no lube. So saliva and a minuscule amount of Swiss Navy and I was fucking him long, fast and hard. My dick filled him so completely, but I know him too well. I got him up on all fours, slowing the pace. I shoved four fingers along the top of my straining cock. He moaned into the pillow and began a slow, mostly incoherent, string of dirty fuck words. I continued to plow with both cock and hand--working my hand in still deeper--really stretching his hole. He begged for me to cum---sooner than I wanted--but I had no time for a longer fuck. I withdrew the hand, pushed him down from all fours to flat on his stomach on the grimy bedspread and drove it home. He kept up a steady mantra about my cum in his ass--all his ass was good for--to take my big load--to keep it in him--take it home to Marshall. My voice cut him off--"To take it to your Boy Friend? Is he gonna fuck in my load?" He may have said yes, I couldn't tell. I shot a good 5 day load up his spasming ass--then worked my entire hand up his grasping hole, using my cum, until he shot...
It was short, like this email--but I post it here for a reason. On Friday of last week, Dan invited me up to Marshall to meet the Boy Friend. “I want you two to DP me…” he said. I got in the car, with my rim seat, leaving the sling at home when I found out they had one of their own.
Tomorrow: Have Rim Seat; Will Travel.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Perfect Hole
Outside of Knoxville--October, 2008
I have had many fine asses over the years. I’ve had countless butts which felt great, but the truly talented holes I can probably count on one hand. These are the ones where the muscles are working with your cock to milk you dry--where they become almost a third party in the fuck. Most of these great asses I know are in Michigan, but I always think about a man I met in Tennessee, where I often do some work. I’d answered an ad from a bottom in the hills near the Kentucky border. He was a guy who was a little younger than myself, decently built, slightly hairy chest, an average cock, and a shaved head. He had his own sling near the bed--always a good sign-- and had various toys of increasingly large sizes strewn across the bureau. He’d insisted that he remove my clothes, which he did. He gave me excellent head, and had pushed me down and sat on my cock before I thought I was ready. Having seen the toys, I wondered if I’d feel anything--was he going to be one of those grand canyon fucks? My fears were groundless. His ass simply clung to my cock. It would squeeze me when I was fully in, but he could do this ripple effect on the out stroke that I’ve never felt anywhere else. He fucked himself riding me, I fucked him doggy, I fucked him missionary, I fucked him standing, pressed against the full length closet mirror. Then he got in the sling. I fucked him thrusting hard, I fucked him standing still and pulling the sling to me. Then the toys, ever increasing in size: a black butt plug, a Jeff Stryker dildo, a double headed dildo that looked as thick as my arm…
I watch the double headed dildo snake up his ass. It reaches the halfway point. He huffs his poppers and tells me to keep going. I do. Slowly. I get to the ¾ mark. His eyes are rolled back, his mouth sagging, his hand groping his mound of soft cock. I begin the slow withdrawal of this monster. My free hand reaches for the next toy…It’s another double--but of a fairly average circumference. His hole gapes. I smear more Crisco onto him with the back of my hand. I start to insert the small double headed. For a moment he looks puzzled. But as soon as I have 4 inches in--I double it over.
“Time for a double fuck.”
He instantly unscrews the cap of the Amsterdam--and the second head glides into his hole as the vapor takes hold. I can get enough in to leave the bent toy there unsupported--and add my two index fingers around the edges. I slowly pull the heads out--one than the other. My cock goes back in---he has to finally feel looser. No. He feels just like he did the first moment I slid into him. We fuck. It’s time for me to once again get lost in the feel of his hole. I set the chains rattling as I fuck. He grunts occasionally but just rides whatever length of stroke I give him. Squeeze, relax, ripple. I finally stop, breathing hard.
“Under the bed.”
He points to the side nearest me. I pull out a cardboard box that once contained billiard balls. I open it. No, it contains billiard balls.
“Grease them up.”
I deliberately coat the 8 ball with Crisco. I press. I meet some resistance. Then the ball is sucked into his hole. I look inquiringly at him. He nods. I grease number 2. It goes in. I hear a muffled click as it meets the first ball. Two of my fingers go in. I can just touch the second one. I try with my cock. It glides right over them. I pull out. Again he nods. Number 10 disappears. He sighs. Poppers. Then the nod. I’m already greasing the number 4. The slight pressure, then his hole swallows it. He looks satisfied. I slap the back of my hand on his hole. I can sense the added weight.
“Back up.”
I move away. With a look of concentration, he pushes--and expels a ball out of his ass. It lands with a heavy clunk on the 70’s brown and orange shag. This time I’m ready. He squeezes again and I catch the ball. He shifts a little in the sling. He grunts this time--and ball three is expelled into my hands.
“Come get the last one.”
I grease up both hands. I slowly work him open--starting with three fingers on the left , a slight twist and start to pull out--letting three fingers of the right replace them before the left is all the way out. I repeat. And again. I do a lateral stretch. My right hand is in his ass before I know it. He clenches down--greeting my fist. I can feel the ball under me. I slide slowly around the side of it and soon it’s cradled in my hand deep in his hole.
“Pull it out. I love that stretch.”
I do. I’m ready to pop out, but he tenses his sphincter--holding me in place. Holding--then he lets go--which lets my hand slide free, ball clutched in my greasy mitt. I drop it and start to re-grease both hands. A little preliminary play…then the left pops in. I rotate and replace it with the right. He is squeezing my wrist each time. It’s not about depth, just working that expert muscle. I keep my right in him. I sidle in towards the sling. My cock is at his hole. Often when I fist my cock goes on holiday---but not with him. I’m rampant. I slowly work my cock in alongside my wrist. Soon I’m in to the hilt. My right hand wraps itself around my drooling dick. I’m masturbating in his ass. He tries to come back to reality…slowly he does and I can see him figure out just what it is he’s feeling.
“Yeah, stroke it.” His voice is deeper now. Husky.
I buck my hips, just a little--fucking my fist inside his ass. My breathing becomes ragged.
“Do it. Coat me.”
I don’t need any more encouragement. My fist works the length of my cock about three more times. My dick is swelling. This is it. I know I’m on the edge. I hold it off…and then my supersized cock explodes into his ass.
I have had many fine asses over the years. I’ve had countless butts which felt great, but the truly talented holes I can probably count on one hand. These are the ones where the muscles are working with your cock to milk you dry--where they become almost a third party in the fuck. Most of these great asses I know are in Michigan, but I always think about a man I met in Tennessee, where I often do some work. I’d answered an ad from a bottom in the hills near the Kentucky border. He was a guy who was a little younger than myself, decently built, slightly hairy chest, an average cock, and a shaved head. He had his own sling near the bed--always a good sign-- and had various toys of increasingly large sizes strewn across the bureau. He’d insisted that he remove my clothes, which he did. He gave me excellent head, and had pushed me down and sat on my cock before I thought I was ready. Having seen the toys, I wondered if I’d feel anything--was he going to be one of those grand canyon fucks? My fears were groundless. His ass simply clung to my cock. It would squeeze me when I was fully in, but he could do this ripple effect on the out stroke that I’ve never felt anywhere else. He fucked himself riding me, I fucked him doggy, I fucked him missionary, I fucked him standing, pressed against the full length closet mirror. Then he got in the sling. I fucked him thrusting hard, I fucked him standing still and pulling the sling to me. Then the toys, ever increasing in size: a black butt plug, a Jeff Stryker dildo, a double headed dildo that looked as thick as my arm…
I watch the double headed dildo snake up his ass. It reaches the halfway point. He huffs his poppers and tells me to keep going. I do. Slowly. I get to the ¾ mark. His eyes are rolled back, his mouth sagging, his hand groping his mound of soft cock. I begin the slow withdrawal of this monster. My free hand reaches for the next toy…It’s another double--but of a fairly average circumference. His hole gapes. I smear more Crisco onto him with the back of my hand. I start to insert the small double headed. For a moment he looks puzzled. But as soon as I have 4 inches in--I double it over.
“Time for a double fuck.”
He instantly unscrews the cap of the Amsterdam--and the second head glides into his hole as the vapor takes hold. I can get enough in to leave the bent toy there unsupported--and add my two index fingers around the edges. I slowly pull the heads out--one than the other. My cock goes back in---he has to finally feel looser. No. He feels just like he did the first moment I slid into him. We fuck. It’s time for me to once again get lost in the feel of his hole. I set the chains rattling as I fuck. He grunts occasionally but just rides whatever length of stroke I give him. Squeeze, relax, ripple. I finally stop, breathing hard.
“Under the bed.”
He points to the side nearest me. I pull out a cardboard box that once contained billiard balls. I open it. No, it contains billiard balls.
“Grease them up.”
I deliberately coat the 8 ball with Crisco. I press. I meet some resistance. Then the ball is sucked into his hole. I look inquiringly at him. He nods. I grease number 2. It goes in. I hear a muffled click as it meets the first ball. Two of my fingers go in. I can just touch the second one. I try with my cock. It glides right over them. I pull out. Again he nods. Number 10 disappears. He sighs. Poppers. Then the nod. I’m already greasing the number 4. The slight pressure, then his hole swallows it. He looks satisfied. I slap the back of my hand on his hole. I can sense the added weight.
“Back up.”
I move away. With a look of concentration, he pushes--and expels a ball out of his ass. It lands with a heavy clunk on the 70’s brown and orange shag. This time I’m ready. He squeezes again and I catch the ball. He shifts a little in the sling. He grunts this time--and ball three is expelled into my hands.
“Come get the last one.”
I grease up both hands. I slowly work him open--starting with three fingers on the left , a slight twist and start to pull out--letting three fingers of the right replace them before the left is all the way out. I repeat. And again. I do a lateral stretch. My right hand is in his ass before I know it. He clenches down--greeting my fist. I can feel the ball under me. I slide slowly around the side of it and soon it’s cradled in my hand deep in his hole.
“Pull it out. I love that stretch.”
I do. I’m ready to pop out, but he tenses his sphincter--holding me in place. Holding--then he lets go--which lets my hand slide free, ball clutched in my greasy mitt. I drop it and start to re-grease both hands. A little preliminary play…then the left pops in. I rotate and replace it with the right. He is squeezing my wrist each time. It’s not about depth, just working that expert muscle. I keep my right in him. I sidle in towards the sling. My cock is at his hole. Often when I fist my cock goes on holiday---but not with him. I’m rampant. I slowly work my cock in alongside my wrist. Soon I’m in to the hilt. My right hand wraps itself around my drooling dick. I’m masturbating in his ass. He tries to come back to reality…slowly he does and I can see him figure out just what it is he’s feeling.
“Yeah, stroke it.” His voice is deeper now. Husky.
I buck my hips, just a little--fucking my fist inside his ass. My breathing becomes ragged.
“Do it. Coat me.”
I don’t need any more encouragement. My fist works the length of my cock about three more times. My dick is swelling. This is it. I know I’m on the edge. I hold it off…and then my supersized cock explodes into his ass.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Country Matters
From August, 2010
My work schedule in the summer is such that I truly have no days off until close to the very end. This was one of the ways I finally got some relief.
On one of my three days off from work last summer, I'm sitting in my favorite rest area. It's off a state highway, so not as much traffic---in either cars or men. There is the usual trickle of older men on a late midweek morning. Some hot. Most not. I am reading a book---I really do get things done as I cruise. Suddenly this panel truck pulls in--a cable company van. He's mid 40's, shaved head, muscles obvious under the uniform short sleeve shirt. We do the eye lock thing as he heads in to piss in the fiberglass shell enclosing the pit toilet. He stays in there a long time, but there is a family picnicking---I'm not playing in there with them around. He finally saunters out and makes his way to the water pump--(yeah--this is rural west Michigan!) He has to pass my car to get there, where I'm sitting in my front seat, with the car door open and NPR on low. We nod. He drinks. He comes back toward me.
"Hot." Me or the weather?
I play it safe. "Yeah." It was one of those overly humid days.
"You look busy."
"Not really. Just busy work."
"This place looks crowded."
"It is today."
"Damn."
Long silence.
He looks at the bulge in my 501's. He sighs.
I smile--he gets points for not doing that awful lick of his lips that so many men do.
"Well..." He sighs again. "Guess I'll get going."
He strides back to the van, sits behind the wheel for a long moment, then starts the engine. He pulls out of the parking space and lingers behind my Focus.
Ah, the universal sign for "Follow me."
I close the door and start the engine. He pulls out of the rest area slowly, making sure I’m following and turns right. I follow. I have to wait for traffic before I can turn. I think I see him turn down a country road. I lose him for a moment--but am pretty sure I know where he's headed--near a corn field--a place and road where there's next to no traffic.
I spot him. He's already parked and out of the van. He opens both side doors to cut off the view. I park a few yards away, grab my travel size lube and start towards him. He is bent over stepping out of his work pants.
"Hey," he says. "Just changing into some shorts."
"Nice."
He's commando. He throws the work pants into the van. There actually are a pair of shorts ready to step into. I swallow hard. "You want that sucked first?"
"Naw."
The smile flickers off my face.
He turns his back to me. "I want this fucked hard."
I'm instantly erect. He gets on all fours on the floor of the van as I drop my jeans. I finger his hole. With my pants around my ankles, I get on my knees in the roadside vegetation and start to rim him. He moans. He wants it fast and hard and deep. I can give him all that. I reluctantly stop rimming, and slap my drooling cock on his ass. And slip in. Fuck, he's perfect: open, but still tight. I sigh and slowly begin the stroke.
"Don't cum in my ass!"
I'm not even close, of course.
"I won't," I promise.
I am picking up steam--an incredibly short fuck for me, but we are in wide open country. I look down. He's already cum.
"Please cum on my ass. Let it trickle down my crack."
I pull out and do just that.
We clean up, I give him a number. We're all done.
Or so I think.
A day later at work, my knee itches. I scratch through my 501s. I finally step into the bathroom and pull the jeans down. I'm covered in an ugly rash.
I slowly realize--I tongued his ass while kneeling in poison ivy. I have never had such a bad case....
My work schedule in the summer is such that I truly have no days off until close to the very end. This was one of the ways I finally got some relief.
On one of my three days off from work last summer, I'm sitting in my favorite rest area. It's off a state highway, so not as much traffic---in either cars or men. There is the usual trickle of older men on a late midweek morning. Some hot. Most not. I am reading a book---I really do get things done as I cruise. Suddenly this panel truck pulls in--a cable company van. He's mid 40's, shaved head, muscles obvious under the uniform short sleeve shirt. We do the eye lock thing as he heads in to piss in the fiberglass shell enclosing the pit toilet. He stays in there a long time, but there is a family picnicking---I'm not playing in there with them around. He finally saunters out and makes his way to the water pump--(yeah--this is rural west Michigan!) He has to pass my car to get there, where I'm sitting in my front seat, with the car door open and NPR on low. We nod. He drinks. He comes back toward me.
"Hot." Me or the weather?
I play it safe. "Yeah." It was one of those overly humid days.
"You look busy."
"Not really. Just busy work."
"This place looks crowded."
"It is today."
"Damn."
Long silence.
He looks at the bulge in my 501's. He sighs.
I smile--he gets points for not doing that awful lick of his lips that so many men do.
"Well..." He sighs again. "Guess I'll get going."
He strides back to the van, sits behind the wheel for a long moment, then starts the engine. He pulls out of the parking space and lingers behind my Focus.
Ah, the universal sign for "Follow me."
I close the door and start the engine. He pulls out of the rest area slowly, making sure I’m following and turns right. I follow. I have to wait for traffic before I can turn. I think I see him turn down a country road. I lose him for a moment--but am pretty sure I know where he's headed--near a corn field--a place and road where there's next to no traffic.
I spot him. He's already parked and out of the van. He opens both side doors to cut off the view. I park a few yards away, grab my travel size lube and start towards him. He is bent over stepping out of his work pants.
"Hey," he says. "Just changing into some shorts."
"Nice."
He's commando. He throws the work pants into the van. There actually are a pair of shorts ready to step into. I swallow hard. "You want that sucked first?"
"Naw."
The smile flickers off my face.
He turns his back to me. "I want this fucked hard."
I'm instantly erect. He gets on all fours on the floor of the van as I drop my jeans. I finger his hole. With my pants around my ankles, I get on my knees in the roadside vegetation and start to rim him. He moans. He wants it fast and hard and deep. I can give him all that. I reluctantly stop rimming, and slap my drooling cock on his ass. And slip in. Fuck, he's perfect: open, but still tight. I sigh and slowly begin the stroke.
"Don't cum in my ass!"
I'm not even close, of course.
"I won't," I promise.
I am picking up steam--an incredibly short fuck for me, but we are in wide open country. I look down. He's already cum.
"Please cum on my ass. Let it trickle down my crack."
I pull out and do just that.
We clean up, I give him a number. We're all done.
Or so I think.
A day later at work, my knee itches. I scratch through my 501s. I finally step into the bathroom and pull the jeans down. I'm covered in an ugly rash.
I slowly realize--I tongued his ass while kneeling in poison ivy. I have never had such a bad case....
Monday, October 3, 2011
Bike
Playroom--August, 2011
After a very busy summer, so busy I could barely play, this was one of my first encounters once I was free. We hadn’t talked much on the phone, but he’d let enough drop to let me know he was eager to try some new things.
I let him in the front door. I’m still dressed in jeans and a rumpled shirt. He is looking fairly Abercrombie and Fitch. I swig from my water bottle and lead him up the steps. In the playroom I point out drawers where he can put all those nice clothes. He is looking good. Almost muscular, 5’9-ish, cubbish, maybe 38. I think about the time I bred him in Lansing--during a motel fourway. And then how we’d met again at another group and he was sitting on my cock--or trying to-- all night. We’ve never played one on one. My cock stirs in the Bike jock--an old fashioned one with the wide elastic band--and one I’d been wearing all day at his request.
I strip in my downstairs bedroom, giving him time to undress. I clomp up the steps, dressed in boots, the jock and a leather wrist band, . I look at him for a long moment--sitting on the bed--his eyes glued to the porn on the screen. He rises as I move into the room. A furry cub of a man. We kiss. His hand goes to my jock and begins to knead. He breaks off the kiss and kneels in front of him. He inhales deeply--eyes tightly closed. Tentatively, his tongue darts out. He begins to lick the cloth pouch. For me, this is a very clean jock. Rinsed early in the morning and just worn all day. The feel of his lips and tongue are beginning to distend the pouch obscenely as my cock hardens. With his teeth, he pulls the material back so he can get at my balls. Slowly he makes them wet. Then it’s back to the pouch. He chews on a piece of it. The jock is incredibly damp. I am doing nothing but standing and looking at us in the mirror over the bureau--nothing but drinking my water, making encouraging sounds and absently patting his head as he is lost in the smell and taste of my jock, my cock and balls. Finally, I ease my cock out to the side of the sopping pouch. He audibly sighs. I’m mostly hard, but not all the way yet. He takes me in his mouth. He’s good. Very good. He takes me to the root repeatedly. Only once does he choke for a moment. I am now hard and dripping.
I pull him up. We kiss again, but he has no real interest in it. I consider sucking his cock, but instead turn him around and get him on all fours at the edge of the bed. It’s a beefy, full, hairy ass. I kneel. My tongue finds his hole. I reach for the small bottle of lube I keep in the band of the jock. Never stopping the rimming, I lube up my cock. I rise up, swipe my cock head down his furry crack--leaving a trail of sticky mess. I kneel back down, stroking myself and eating his hole--and shoving in some of my precum. I rise and slap my cock on his upturned ass. I’m so hard it makes a louder sound than I anticipate.
“Fuck me. Come on, Fu--”
He never finishes the sentence for my cock is driving forward. To the hilt in one swift thrust. I pull almost all the way out and slam it in again. This sparks him to be very verbal. He starts a babble about being bred. As if I am even close… I fuck. And fuck. I change up the stroke repeatedly. I never want him to know what’s coming.
After a time I pull out and pull him up. We embrace. I try for a kiss--but he will have none of it. Ah, one of those. No chance after I rim--though he couldn‘t be cleaner. What a shame…
I get him over to the sling. I just bend him into it. He’s standing, holding onto the chains as his chest is cradled by the leather. I drop down to taste and feel how different his ass is now, after all that fucking. Puffy, open, self lubing. I jerk as I eat. Little else makes my cock harder. I rise. He braces for the onslaught of my cock in his hole. But he gets piss.
I piss hard--never losing my erection. Not much. Enough to make him gasp. Then moan. The piss forms a little pool in the small of his back and snakes down his ass crack. I kneel and slurp it up.
“Fuck, that’s hot.”
I grunt and lick up more. I work his ass crack with my tongue until he starts to beg for my cock. I spit directly onto his hole, rise, and put just the head of my cock in him.
“Please.”
I lean forward and it begins inching into his gut. “Take it.”
He does--repeatedly--for endless minutes.
He’s flipped now. Lying in the sling, legs in stirrups and spread wide. I’m buried the deepest I‘ve been all night, leaning in and gnawing on his nipples. I pull out and slap my cock on his soft cock, his tightened balls. Without warning a stream of piss covers his cock. His eyes widen. Without missing a beat I shove it up his ass--still streaming piss.
“God--yes….that’s so hot.”
He’s right. It has taken the temperature of his butt through the roof. I begin to fuck the moment I stop pissing. I am pretty sure this will be the breeding moment. I try to keep it slow for a bit, but I just can’t. I pile drive into his ass. He can see it in my twisted face. He begins to vocally egg me on to cum.
“Breed me.”
My cockhead expands.
“C’mon.”
I can feel it surging out of my balls.
“Do it!”
His ass constricts. I shoot with a terrific grunt and collapse on to him.
When I can talk, I pull out carefully. A private Niagara of cum and piss falls to the tarp below the sling. As I reach for a towel on the dresser, I ask if he wants to get off . I hand it to him and see that he shot, never having gotten hard. I peel off the sopping jock and hang it on the sling stand. I towel him dry. I love that moment--the wipe down of all the areas I’ve just been abusing. I ask if he wants to shower. No, he’d like to take it all home…
He is dressed and gone in no time. I go back upstairs. As I start to collect the towels, I notice the jock is no longer on the stand. I do a quick search--but I know where it is. I’m hoping that at some point tonight or tomorrow it will be pressed to his face while stroking, as he relives each moment.
After a very busy summer, so busy I could barely play, this was one of my first encounters once I was free. We hadn’t talked much on the phone, but he’d let enough drop to let me know he was eager to try some new things.
I let him in the front door. I’m still dressed in jeans and a rumpled shirt. He is looking fairly Abercrombie and Fitch. I swig from my water bottle and lead him up the steps. In the playroom I point out drawers where he can put all those nice clothes. He is looking good. Almost muscular, 5’9-ish, cubbish, maybe 38. I think about the time I bred him in Lansing--during a motel fourway. And then how we’d met again at another group and he was sitting on my cock--or trying to-- all night. We’ve never played one on one. My cock stirs in the Bike jock--an old fashioned one with the wide elastic band--and one I’d been wearing all day at his request.
I strip in my downstairs bedroom, giving him time to undress. I clomp up the steps, dressed in boots, the jock and a leather wrist band, . I look at him for a long moment--sitting on the bed--his eyes glued to the porn on the screen. He rises as I move into the room. A furry cub of a man. We kiss. His hand goes to my jock and begins to knead. He breaks off the kiss and kneels in front of him. He inhales deeply--eyes tightly closed. Tentatively, his tongue darts out. He begins to lick the cloth pouch. For me, this is a very clean jock. Rinsed early in the morning and just worn all day. The feel of his lips and tongue are beginning to distend the pouch obscenely as my cock hardens. With his teeth, he pulls the material back so he can get at my balls. Slowly he makes them wet. Then it’s back to the pouch. He chews on a piece of it. The jock is incredibly damp. I am doing nothing but standing and looking at us in the mirror over the bureau--nothing but drinking my water, making encouraging sounds and absently patting his head as he is lost in the smell and taste of my jock, my cock and balls. Finally, I ease my cock out to the side of the sopping pouch. He audibly sighs. I’m mostly hard, but not all the way yet. He takes me in his mouth. He’s good. Very good. He takes me to the root repeatedly. Only once does he choke for a moment. I am now hard and dripping.
I pull him up. We kiss again, but he has no real interest in it. I consider sucking his cock, but instead turn him around and get him on all fours at the edge of the bed. It’s a beefy, full, hairy ass. I kneel. My tongue finds his hole. I reach for the small bottle of lube I keep in the band of the jock. Never stopping the rimming, I lube up my cock. I rise up, swipe my cock head down his furry crack--leaving a trail of sticky mess. I kneel back down, stroking myself and eating his hole--and shoving in some of my precum. I rise and slap my cock on his upturned ass. I’m so hard it makes a louder sound than I anticipate.
“Fuck me. Come on, Fu--”
He never finishes the sentence for my cock is driving forward. To the hilt in one swift thrust. I pull almost all the way out and slam it in again. This sparks him to be very verbal. He starts a babble about being bred. As if I am even close… I fuck. And fuck. I change up the stroke repeatedly. I never want him to know what’s coming.
After a time I pull out and pull him up. We embrace. I try for a kiss--but he will have none of it. Ah, one of those. No chance after I rim--though he couldn‘t be cleaner. What a shame…
I get him over to the sling. I just bend him into it. He’s standing, holding onto the chains as his chest is cradled by the leather. I drop down to taste and feel how different his ass is now, after all that fucking. Puffy, open, self lubing. I jerk as I eat. Little else makes my cock harder. I rise. He braces for the onslaught of my cock in his hole. But he gets piss.
I piss hard--never losing my erection. Not much. Enough to make him gasp. Then moan. The piss forms a little pool in the small of his back and snakes down his ass crack. I kneel and slurp it up.
“Fuck, that’s hot.”
I grunt and lick up more. I work his ass crack with my tongue until he starts to beg for my cock. I spit directly onto his hole, rise, and put just the head of my cock in him.
“Please.”
I lean forward and it begins inching into his gut. “Take it.”
He does--repeatedly--for endless minutes.
He’s flipped now. Lying in the sling, legs in stirrups and spread wide. I’m buried the deepest I‘ve been all night, leaning in and gnawing on his nipples. I pull out and slap my cock on his soft cock, his tightened balls. Without warning a stream of piss covers his cock. His eyes widen. Without missing a beat I shove it up his ass--still streaming piss.
“God--yes….that’s so hot.”
He’s right. It has taken the temperature of his butt through the roof. I begin to fuck the moment I stop pissing. I am pretty sure this will be the breeding moment. I try to keep it slow for a bit, but I just can’t. I pile drive into his ass. He can see it in my twisted face. He begins to vocally egg me on to cum.
“Breed me.”
My cockhead expands.
“C’mon.”
I can feel it surging out of my balls.
“Do it!”
His ass constricts. I shoot with a terrific grunt and collapse on to him.
When I can talk, I pull out carefully. A private Niagara of cum and piss falls to the tarp below the sling. As I reach for a towel on the dresser, I ask if he wants to get off . I hand it to him and see that he shot, never having gotten hard. I peel off the sopping jock and hang it on the sling stand. I towel him dry. I love that moment--the wipe down of all the areas I’ve just been abusing. I ask if he wants to shower. No, he’d like to take it all home…
He is dressed and gone in no time. I go back upstairs. As I start to collect the towels, I notice the jock is no longer on the stand. I do a quick search--but I know where it is. I’m hoping that at some point tonight or tomorrow it will be pressed to his face while stroking, as he relives each moment.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
The Exception Who Proved the Rule
Trip to Louisville--September, 2011
In my experience, travel hook-ups made several days ahead of the trip, rarely work out. While at home, I’d talked to the remarkably few men on BBRT in the Louisville area and a good half dozen had wanted to meet. As was typical, not one of them was online on the Friday evening when I arrived. So I went off to the Adult Bookstore--but that’s a story for another time. Then at 8am on Saturday morning, I got a text from a guy who was the exception that proved the title of this post.
The phone sounds off--incredibly close to my ear. It’s 8am after a long night. I try to focus, groping around a little blindly on the Motel 6 bedside table. God, who’d text me at this hour? I fumble for my reading glasses: You got time this am? I look at the phone number--it is a Louisville area code--a step in the right direction. I sort through who had actually given me a number. Got it. It’s that mixed race couple--Yes, after 9:30. I wait, being very aware of residual lube left on my fingers from last night. good. tell me where. I do. A shower, some pancakes and soon I’m setting up the sling, while sipping my morning coffee. About 9:28 another text announces itself. Running late. Getting myself very clean for you. At 10:00am there’s a knock at the door. I glance around. Bed pulled together, sling right next to it by the door, rimseat next to the built in desk. I don't travel light. I’m in combat boots and a dirty jock. I answer the door.
A gorgeous African-American young man slips into the room. “It’s just me. He thinks I’m visiting my Mom.” He instantly kisses me--and he‘s good. “Fuck me, Daddy.” My hand goes from his back to his full ass which is filling every inch of room in the seat of his khakis. Oh, this is gonna be good. He strips quickly, between kisses. His cock is erect and sizable. But I bypass his dick, turn him around and push him gently onto the bed, so he lands on all fours. I look at this spectacular young ass. Then tentatively, my tongue runs down the crack and finds his hole. I ream him deeply and he moans into the pillow. I always forget how different young flesh feels. My tongue dives deeper. He grabs the pillow and actually bites it. My tongue is running up and down his crack, my hand on his large cock. I pull it back towards me and dip to suck just the head. He is precuming a steady stream. I let some build in my mouth. I release his cock--then slowly push his jizz into his ass with my tongue. I tell him what I just did--letting the words sink in. He’s stroking faster--breathing harder. I flip him over, get his legs on my shoulders and slowly enter him. His stroking increases. Oh, no. Not one of those boys where it’s over before we really begin…
“Careful.” My hand knocks his hand away from his swollen cock.
“It’s okay.” He grips his penis. “I can keep going after I cum.”
I have been just gently rocking into him. Now I pull out and give him the full length of my cock in a single thrust.
“Yes! Yes, daddy!”
I am pumping long and hard. Finally I slow. I taste his hole. Swab his cock with my tongue. Add more precum into his relaxed, puffy pucker. We play on the bed for quite awhile, with him on all fours, then riding my cock. God, he loves that. His cock leaves a huge pool on my chest. I wipe it up with my hand and feed it to him. Without hesitating, he cleans my fingers and immediately bends to kiss me. Deep. Long. Sloppy.
I suggest we move into the sling. Once his legs are in the stirrups, I go back to rimming his now truly used, wet hole. I can’t imagine anything more delicious. He takes a hit of poppers and begs for me to fuck. I do. The moment I enter he jerks. I know he’s going to cum. I bend over. I can almost reach his dick head with my mouth and still keep fucking. The moment he starts to shoot, I pull out and my mouth engulfs his cock head. It’s a huge, 20-something’s load. I don’t swallow. I kneel. And with him still shuddering, I reverse felch it into his ass. He moans. I spend long minutes tonguing it as deep as possible into him. I stand. The moment of truth--can he really take it? My cock head has never looked so big. It starts to push into his butt.
He does a quick intake of breath, than he sighs--letting the air out and me in. I sink into his mega load of cum and my spit and pre-cum. It’s a heavenly fuck. I will myself not to cum right there. The peak passes. I slow my pace, pull out. My red penis is covered in frothy cum.
“Let me have it.” I bring it up to his mouth. He half leans out of the sling and tongue washes my cock. Every drop. We kiss. Snowball what he hasn’t swallowed. I need more.
“Come here.” I’m pulling him out of the sling. “Rimseat time.”
“I’ve never..”
“Good….”
I get under, take a hit of English, and lower the seat. The poppers are starting to work as he carefully sits. His gorgeous ass--his well-fucked, dripping ass--is lowered slowly towards me. He sits. The seat spreads his cheeks enough that my tongue has easy penetration into his hole. I lovingly swab the walls of his chute. There is the merest hint of cum left. I strain deeper. I hit the mother lode. He is moaning. My tongue opens him up and I can feel his load slip down into my mouth. My cock has been hard all along. Now it is all but bursting its skin. I haven’t been there long enough--but I double tap his legs to get him off the seat. I have to fuck him. Now.
He’s into the sling before I can stand up. He knows he’s going to get bred. His hand works his relentlessly hard cock. I’m into him. No rimming now. I start a long, deep stroke. The sound of my balls smacking his full ass fills the rooms. He shoots again. This time I mop it up with my hand. I pull out, smear it on my cock and send it up his hole. That takes me over the edge. I make loud, inarticulate noises as I unleash it incredibly deep in his ass.
I collapse on him. His arms come down from holding the chains to hold me. Pulling me to him. I’m still lodged in his milking ass. I have no idea how many minutes later we start to move apart. My cock slips out…and a river of cum with it. I get him to his feet. I hug him. He slips down my torso. He cleans my cock with his tongue. Slowly. Lovingly. Studying it--knowing he will likely never see or feel it again.
In my experience, travel hook-ups made several days ahead of the trip, rarely work out. While at home, I’d talked to the remarkably few men on BBRT in the Louisville area and a good half dozen had wanted to meet. As was typical, not one of them was online on the Friday evening when I arrived. So I went off to the Adult Bookstore--but that’s a story for another time. Then at 8am on Saturday morning, I got a text from a guy who was the exception that proved the title of this post.
The phone sounds off--incredibly close to my ear. It’s 8am after a long night. I try to focus, groping around a little blindly on the Motel 6 bedside table. God, who’d text me at this hour? I fumble for my reading glasses: You got time this am? I look at the phone number--it is a Louisville area code--a step in the right direction. I sort through who had actually given me a number. Got it. It’s that mixed race couple--Yes, after 9:30. I wait, being very aware of residual lube left on my fingers from last night. good. tell me where. I do. A shower, some pancakes and soon I’m setting up the sling, while sipping my morning coffee. About 9:28 another text announces itself. Running late. Getting myself very clean for you. At 10:00am there’s a knock at the door. I glance around. Bed pulled together, sling right next to it by the door, rimseat next to the built in desk. I don't travel light. I’m in combat boots and a dirty jock. I answer the door.
A gorgeous African-American young man slips into the room. “It’s just me. He thinks I’m visiting my Mom.” He instantly kisses me--and he‘s good. “Fuck me, Daddy.” My hand goes from his back to his full ass which is filling every inch of room in the seat of his khakis. Oh, this is gonna be good. He strips quickly, between kisses. His cock is erect and sizable. But I bypass his dick, turn him around and push him gently onto the bed, so he lands on all fours. I look at this spectacular young ass. Then tentatively, my tongue runs down the crack and finds his hole. I ream him deeply and he moans into the pillow. I always forget how different young flesh feels. My tongue dives deeper. He grabs the pillow and actually bites it. My tongue is running up and down his crack, my hand on his large cock. I pull it back towards me and dip to suck just the head. He is precuming a steady stream. I let some build in my mouth. I release his cock--then slowly push his jizz into his ass with my tongue. I tell him what I just did--letting the words sink in. He’s stroking faster--breathing harder. I flip him over, get his legs on my shoulders and slowly enter him. His stroking increases. Oh, no. Not one of those boys where it’s over before we really begin…
“Careful.” My hand knocks his hand away from his swollen cock.
“It’s okay.” He grips his penis. “I can keep going after I cum.”
I have been just gently rocking into him. Now I pull out and give him the full length of my cock in a single thrust.
“Yes! Yes, daddy!”
I am pumping long and hard. Finally I slow. I taste his hole. Swab his cock with my tongue. Add more precum into his relaxed, puffy pucker. We play on the bed for quite awhile, with him on all fours, then riding my cock. God, he loves that. His cock leaves a huge pool on my chest. I wipe it up with my hand and feed it to him. Without hesitating, he cleans my fingers and immediately bends to kiss me. Deep. Long. Sloppy.
I suggest we move into the sling. Once his legs are in the stirrups, I go back to rimming his now truly used, wet hole. I can’t imagine anything more delicious. He takes a hit of poppers and begs for me to fuck. I do. The moment I enter he jerks. I know he’s going to cum. I bend over. I can almost reach his dick head with my mouth and still keep fucking. The moment he starts to shoot, I pull out and my mouth engulfs his cock head. It’s a huge, 20-something’s load. I don’t swallow. I kneel. And with him still shuddering, I reverse felch it into his ass. He moans. I spend long minutes tonguing it as deep as possible into him. I stand. The moment of truth--can he really take it? My cock head has never looked so big. It starts to push into his butt.
He does a quick intake of breath, than he sighs--letting the air out and me in. I sink into his mega load of cum and my spit and pre-cum. It’s a heavenly fuck. I will myself not to cum right there. The peak passes. I slow my pace, pull out. My red penis is covered in frothy cum.
“Let me have it.” I bring it up to his mouth. He half leans out of the sling and tongue washes my cock. Every drop. We kiss. Snowball what he hasn’t swallowed. I need more.
“Come here.” I’m pulling him out of the sling. “Rimseat time.”
“I’ve never..”
“Good….”
I get under, take a hit of English, and lower the seat. The poppers are starting to work as he carefully sits. His gorgeous ass--his well-fucked, dripping ass--is lowered slowly towards me. He sits. The seat spreads his cheeks enough that my tongue has easy penetration into his hole. I lovingly swab the walls of his chute. There is the merest hint of cum left. I strain deeper. I hit the mother lode. He is moaning. My tongue opens him up and I can feel his load slip down into my mouth. My cock has been hard all along. Now it is all but bursting its skin. I haven’t been there long enough--but I double tap his legs to get him off the seat. I have to fuck him. Now.
He’s into the sling before I can stand up. He knows he’s going to get bred. His hand works his relentlessly hard cock. I’m into him. No rimming now. I start a long, deep stroke. The sound of my balls smacking his full ass fills the rooms. He shoots again. This time I mop it up with my hand. I pull out, smear it on my cock and send it up his hole. That takes me over the edge. I make loud, inarticulate noises as I unleash it incredibly deep in his ass.
I collapse on him. His arms come down from holding the chains to hold me. Pulling me to him. I’m still lodged in his milking ass. I have no idea how many minutes later we start to move apart. My cock slips out…and a river of cum with it. I get him to his feet. I hug him. He slips down my torso. He cleans my cock with his tongue. Slowly. Lovingly. Studying it--knowing he will likely never see or feel it again.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Welcome
Thanks for finding me....I've been busy, trying to get a few posts ahead. I should be posting, beginning on Sunday, October 2, 2011.
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