Bisexual Bar Leads to Gay Sex

Bisexual Bar Leads to Gay Sex

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I was sitting at my favorite bar in Portland, Oregon, talking to the bartender. There were three on duty that night. But my usual bartender and I usually talked together. On this occasion, we were mostly complaining about some of the women who were at the bar that night. I didn’t know what their problem was, but I didn’t like all the noise they were making.

Neither did the bartender and it didn’t take much prodding to get him to go over and ask them to kindly be quiet. It was a normal bar. Not the gay one that I usually go to on Friday nights and weekends. It had just been a rough week and I only wanted some peace, quiet and some ice cubes to keep my drink chilled.

I watched the bartender walking back to the bar. So far the ladies were quiet. But he shrugged his shoulder and told me that the peace and quiet wasn’t going to last. Oh well.

About that time, I good-looking guy came into the bar and sat next to me. He could have sat some where else at the bar, but he didn’t. I figured he was in his early twenties and maybe a straight college dude. The guy ordered his drink and didn’t say anything to me. So far anyway.

Things changed after a while. It became obvious that the college guy wanted some one to talk to. Unfortunately for me, the bartender had gone to the other side of the bar to be safe.

The dude started out pleasant enough. The usual nonsense about how’s it going to start with. Then he asked me if I was married? I told him that I’m not married and happy not to be. The guy introduced himself as Sawyer. He told me to stay single. “Married life is a bitch.”

I asked him how long he’s been married. Sawyer replied that legally he’s not married. But he knocked up his live-in girlfriend and since she’s been pregnant the past seven months — “She’s been a real bitch.”

“I’ve heard women get that way by their seventh month,” I told him. “Yeah, well this one might as well ride an atomic broomstick. All she ever does is bitch, bitch, bitch.”

“Well, seven months pregnant, so bitching comes with the territory,” I told Sawyer. All he said was “yeah.” Which was understandable. I went to lighten the mood and tell Sawyer that: “You know, doctors know what causes that pregnant stuff now.”

Either Sawyer didn’t hear me because the women were back making a lot of noise, he didn’t know what I meant, or he was thinking of something else.

All he did say was that: “She’s got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow and she’s annoyed because it is at noon.” I thought she was being a big baby just because his girlfriend couldn’t sleep-in until past noon for one day. I told him that she can’t have everything in life. To which Sawyer replied: “Very true. She’ll see that eventually.” “Yeah all those hormones and other nonsense,” I responded. Anyway, it was time for another round that I paid for.

Fortunately no one, including the bartender at that time, were around to hear our conversation. For I confided in Sawyer and told him that I used to get so horny while fucking a girl and thinking about knocking her up. It really got me going and provided an intense hard fucking for her.

He knew exactly what I meant and has experience how horned up he gets. “Yeah, it makes for a fun time,” Sawyer started to say. Then added: “I’m just happy I got to spread my seed around some.”

“That is hot,” I replied. “It’s a big turn on when you’re fucking and think about that happening,” I told Sawyer.

He next told me that “It is for sure. I was so horny the three months I was fucking her all the time and I was doing her off the pill, trying to get her pregnant.”

As expected, my reply was: “Wow, that had to be good.” I then proceeded to ask Sawyer if he has knocked up any other girls? He then told me that he has a two year old son with his ex-girlfriend. “Knocked her up at eighteen,” Sawyer stated.

I then asked if his son with his ex-girlfriend or with him? Sawyer told me that his son lives with her and he sees him every weekend. I thought that was good for him being there for his son. “That is the way to do it,” I told Sawyer.

“Yeah,” he responded referring back to our original topic. “It does feel so good driving my hot hard cock deep into her pussy.” I knew Sawyer was getting horned up talking about it. So I heated-up the conversation up by telling Sawyer: “Oh yea, sliding your big hard dick in her deep and then pounding her pussy hard.”

At least that’s how I remembered it from the three girls that I had dated in high school. Which was also mostly for show and keep my parents, friends and teachers from learning that I’m gay. Which needless to say, was also before I had first had gay sex with a friend and it was so much better than anything I had done with girls. I was fully and truly gay forever. Anyway, it was time for another round that Sawyer paid for.

He went a step further and if Sawyer was trying to get me horny, he succeeded by telling me: “Sliding it in-and-out fast. Getting it deep and blowing your load. No pill. No condom. Fucking Ankara escort like that goes feel so good….” It was a little strange that some guy had just walked into the bar and started talking so dirty to me.

Sawyer even continued by telling me that he had face fucked a chick while his buddy fucked her pussy. Oh, so maybe that was a clue? Sawyer wanted me to join in a three-some with him. I replied that a three-some is a hot way to do it with a chill bud. It can make for more fun and more positions than just a regular couple screwing. I told Sawyer that I had done with double penetration with a couple buds. Either using their girlfriend or some bar slut we picked up and took to a motel or something.

I hadn’t meant for Sawyer to think that my threesomes were any thing recent. It was back in college. But he did for Sawyer proceeded to ask me if I was pounding it often? There was a delay in my responding to his question. Because the noisy women had gotten loud again in the back of the bar. Fortunately about five minutes later they left and good riddance to them!

I just went on to tell my bar buddy that the slut had wanted to be fucked all the time. I pounded her good every time. Which was true back in college. Sawyer told me to “Pound her pussy hard, bro.” Then he asked if I was fucking other girls too? I didn’t actually know the guy so it didn’t bother me to tell some stories of my past life.

I figured the guy would never know and what ever off-Broadway play was going through his drunken mind, I didn’t mind playing a minor role for a couple hours.

So in response to his question, I told Sawyer that I was banging a couple other girls on the side and asked Sawyer if he was banging any girls on the side now that his girlfriend was seven months pregnant? Sawyer replied that he was doing a redhead that he had met at a bar. He’s been “… Pounding her every few days.”

I responded by telling him that he is a stud and that was nice going on his part. I didn’t make any moral assessments about his cheating on his girlfriend. Besides, it was time for another round that I paid for.

“You too man, you must be quite the stud,” Sawyer told me. Then asking me if I have “… Been spreading a lot of your seed too huh?” I spread some the previous tonight with another bud, I told Sawyer. It was a pure lie. Nothing had happened sexually in my life last night.

I was too tired after a stressful day at work to even think about going out for some sex. If I had interested, I would surely have gone to pick-up a guy and fuck him. Not some slut. Then too, Sawyer hadn’t stopped to wonder if I had spread some seed with a girl or a guy as I was claiming.

All Sawyer told me was that was “nice man.” So I went on with a make-believe story. “Yeah, lots of good fucking earlier. We took turns fucking this slut and use each other’s cum for lube, I told him.

I don’t if Sawyer fully understood my comment or not. All he said was “Nice!” and then questioned me if I thought she might get knocked up? Since the story was made-up I felt I might as well go “all in” with another aspect of the story and told Sawyer: “My buddy and I didn’t know her and we didn’t tell her our real names or addresses. But I hope she does get knocked up.” Then I laughed as part of the game I was playing on Sawyer.

Sawyer laughed at my remark too. Then told me it was a nice or best way to do it. I figured the drinks were catching up with Sawyer. He was well on his way towards being drunk. Speaking of which, it was time for another round that Sawyer paid for.

While waiting on my drink to arrive, I deliberated on what my next statement to Sawyer to be. I’ll upped the ante and told him: “Yup, if our cum pours out of her pussy my bud likes to eat most of it up.” I figured Sawyer could either think that’s hot or disgusting. I waited.

The drinks arrived and Sawyer finally responded. “I think a lot of dudes who have had a threesome like that, get so horned up they don’t mind eating another guy’s load. It’s all part of bonding with your bud to get a couple good fucks sharing a slut.”

I agreed. Telling Sawyer that: “It is part of bonding with a bud or some other guy that you’ve just met and end up sharing some pussy.” This was Sawyer’s game and I wanted him to take the lead if there was an actual point that he wanted by our conversation. If nothing else at this point I had learned that Sawyer didn’t mind licking up a guy’s hot sticky cum.

I took a sip of my drink and then mentioned that “Some buds get a little carried away at times, but it’s all part of the kinky nature of a hot threesome.” “I think you’re right on that,” Sawyer told me. “Some do get too excited and kinky. What did your bud do?” Sawyer asked.

“Well, I had the slut on her knees and was fucking her from behind, doggie-style,” I started to tell my bar buddy. I knew where I was going to by telling about an event that had happened to me in college. But before proceeding, it was definitely time for ankara olgun escort another round.

I took the last sip of my glass. Motioned to the bartender to bring two more drinks which I paid for. Then I told Sawyer: “My buddy got underneath the girl while I continued to bang her hard. He licked and sucked on her nipples for a while. Then moved on to lick her clit while my dick was sliding in-and-out of the slut. He could see my balls slapping her butt too.”

“At one point, I was pounding her too hard and my hard cock slipped out of her and my buddy nicely took a hold and returned my dick to the right hole.” I paused in my story and took another sip of my drink. While Sawyer told me that “… It was very nice of him,” then laughed about it.

I next told Sawyer: “Well after that, the same thing happened a couple of times. Only this time my buddy did more than guide me back in. He actually took a couple moments to lick the pussy juice off of my throbbing cock. He told me at the time that he wanted to taste her while she was getting fucked. I told him that I was sure he would enjoy that.”

Actually his statement was something about how well my cock tasted. But I didn’t think that Sawyer was ready for that. Not yet anyway. I reported to Sawyer that my buddy ended up sucking my cock for longer periods of time ever time I “just happened to slip out.” I also noted that the girl knew what was going on underneath her and liked it. Perhaps that was true or maybe she was too drunk and liked it.

When I paused to take another sip of my drink, Sawyer told me that he had had that done by a buddy under similar circumstances. Further noting that: “My buddy was really good at it too.” Which I was surprised to hear, but glad at the same time. My story was working and Sawyer was becoming more open with me. So at least I knew that he had been blown by at least one guy in the past. Perhaps the not too distant past at that!

I went ahead and asked Sawyer if that threesome had been recently and he told me about a month ago. I told him that’s cool. Since we both had enjoyed blowjobs from guys, I felt the topic was now open for comment. I asked if his buddy had given him head since then? I didn’t say during a threesome or anything similar. Just a straight-out blowjob. Sawyer told me that he had.

I asked: “Several times since then?” Sawyer answered that his buddy had given him head several times since the first time. Then he wanted to know if my buddy had also blown me several times after the doggy-style threesome? I answered that he had. I also added the same statement that Sawyer had given me. “He was really good at it too.” So that settled the fact that both of us had been sucked off by at least one guy after a hot threesome. Having admitted that, Sawyer and I both needed another round of drinks. One which that Sawyer paid for.

The bartender quickly provided our drinks. Sawyer and I both finished the small glasses in one gulp. I motioned the bartender for another round and to keep on coming.

At the same time I was wondering where the conversation with Sawyer was going from where we left off? If he was going to change the subject? Or if my new drinking buddy was going to call it a night and leave?

Sawyer surprised me by letting me know that it was time he went to the men’s room after all the drinks we had been consuming. In getting up from the bar seat, it was obvious to me that Sawyer had a good hard-on going in his pants. I wasn’t surprised by that. So did I!

It wasn’t long before Sawyer returned feeling much better I imagined. “It’s all good, you know,” Sawyer started to say as he sat down. “We’re all horny and need to get some loads off. Meaningless in the long run, you know?”

I agreed. Sawyer didn’t seem embarrassed by his revelations. I certainly wasn’t as I was hoping for something more substantial from Sawyer than a couple drinks and several hours of horny chatting. He did take the lead in where the conversation was going by asking me if my dick-sucking buddy had gone to my place or me to his, and then watched some porn while he was giving me more blowjobs?

It was where we pretty much had left off. Of which I was pleased. I told Sawyer that basically that was what happened. “Same for you?” I asked. “Yeah, my buddy was really into it. He told me that he’s bisexual, which was obvious from the threesome. But I soon found out that he was leaning more towards having sex with guys than with women,” Sawyer finished.

“That’s cool. My buddy was the same. He sure got off sucking my cock. How many others he was doing around that time he never said. I didn’t ask,” I told Sawyer. Who responded by telling me that “It was always real good head. Much better than my girlfriend at the time and my current pregnant girlfriend too!”

“Seems to be the case,” I told Sawyer. “As the saying goes, guys that like giving head to other guys do it best.” “Yes, I’ve heard that expression. Seems to ankara ucuz escort be true too,” Sawyer replied.

“It does,” was my response. Sawyer asked me if I have had a lot of blowjobs from guys?” I replied that I had from several. Including a couple straight guys. This was where I thought I would have Sawyer. For I knew what his next move was. My new bar buddy asked me how I had had a couple straight guys give me head?

I told him that they were all horned up as we had been doing a lot of drinking in my college dorm room and watching straight porn. We also had a lot of weed or some other illegal substances that made them loose their normal self control and start craving some hard dick.

Some wanted to try giving head. While others unexpectedly had a craving to suck cock. Once they did they liked it and would keep coming back for more. As long as they had the excuse that they were drunk, high or stone. Or whatever.

“Wow, that had to be an intense time and a hot one for you, getting sucked off by straights,” Sawyer told me. “Yeah, I’ve heard that can happen. Frequently in college dorms or fraternity houses. As well as with horny guys hanging out at some one’s apartment or house for that matter,” Sawyer told me.

He then took the last half of his drink in one big gulp. Sawyer then added: “That craving does get to be intense too. It can drive a guy to do some crazy stuff that they wouldn’t normally do. At least that’s the way it seemed to me.”

So, Sawyer found a way to let me know that he’s sucked cock before too. Things had been interested in our lengthy conversation before. Now it got really interesting. As Sawyer was either confessing his past sins or laying the ground-work for him to give me head. Or both of us blowing each other. Now it was my turn to confess or move along.

My best interest was in confessing. “There’s really no way around those cravings. They bubble to the surface and we can’t control them any longer. It happened to me in high school.”

There is was. All to indicate to Sawyer that he wasn’t alone in the lustfully desire to have a hard hot cock in his mouth and sucking it. It’s a craving that is not easily denied. It keeps coming back and growing in desire. Especially when straights weren’t getting any sex from girls. They could get it more easily from guys.

Well now that Sawyer and I both know that the other sucks dick, now what? It was a good question. We’d already had enough to drink if either or both of us needed an excuse to suck our cocks. But do we still need an excuse? Or was that the only way that Sawyer ever did end up enjoying a big stiff cock in his mouth?

I went ahead and asked Sawyer if he had had that old crave any time recently? Or didn’t he need to have weed as an excuse any more? For all I knew he might have been cheating on his pregnant girlfriend with several guy as well as the redhead slut. For that matter, it might have his last time with a guy back in college. So I was interested in seeing how Sawyer was going to answer.

By this time, it was late. Most of the other patrons had left the bar. Of the three bartenders that had been on duty when I first arrived, only one was left. It was getting close to closing and my favorite bartender came over to see if we wanted one last round. I nodded that we did.

Sawyer replied to my two questions by telling me: that it had been more than three weeks since he last gave a blowjob and a few drinks was all that needed as an excuse. Some times.

While other times he was just horny and wanted a dick to blow at places that didn’t include the usual excuse elements (e.g., booze, porn, pot or other illegal drugs, etc.). Sawyer added that after our extensive horny conversations, he really was craving a big hard cock. So was I.

If the bartender was listening, then he heard a lot. It wouldn’t have been the first time. He didn’t mind. The bartender had already told me that he’s openly gay and his live-in boyfriend is another of the bartenders. My secrets were guaranteed to stay secrets.

Which left us with only a few option. The men’s room at the bar was out. It was closing time after all. Or Sawyer’s apartment with his pregnant girlfriend there. Which left my car or my place.

I turned to Sawyer and noticed that he had “bedroom eyes.” The guy really was horny. I told him that I had a serious question. He asked me what that is. I said it’s nearly two o’clock. Is your girlfriend looking for you to return to your place or doesn’t she care if you are out all night? Sawyer replied that she’d been sleeping and that would last until noon. So he had plenty of time to suck my cock. He really wanted it bad.

Sawyer was losing more of his initial inhibitions. He turned to me and whispered in my ear asking me if: “The bartender is gay right?” I told Sawyer he is. “Okay,” was all Sawyer replied.

Then he moved his hand and placed it on my crotch. Sawyer was feeling my hard boner under my pants. I was pretty sure the bartender noticed. I didn’t look to make sure. “Let’s go to my place then” was all I told Sawyer.

Once at my place and in my bedroom, Sawyer and I quickly stripping off our clothes. As soon as we were both naked, we moved to hug and kiss each other. Our hands were all over the other’s smooth body. His body felt hot to my touch and his skin was soft.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

My Shy Roommate

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Arthur woke early and stumbled his way into the kitchen to make coffee. It was already light outside, and the window shades were fully open, letting in a blinding light. Oscar, his roommate, was already at the counter, powering through a plate of egg whites with a vacant look of exhaustion. As Arthur ground the beans, they both said nothing and gave no sign that the other existed, as was their custom. After six months, Arthur had given up that particular fight.

Arthur took his coffee into the living room, and drank in silence until it was almost time to go. After four years, it was his last month of the last semester of his college life. There was already so much to think about. Job interviews, loan repayments, where he’d be moving once he was out of the student housing…

It had already been a long week, and he was feeling exhausted. One of Oscar’s girls had been over earlier in the week. He had taken her up against their shared wall and it sounded like he nearly took her through it. He had hardly slept at all that day. At least the girls never stayed long, and they rarely returned. In his next place, he would be opting for thicker walls or quieter roommates.

The lights of the bathroom flicked off as he was finishing the thought, dreaming of high walls and wide windows to let in the light. Oscar closed the door behind him as he slipped inside, leaving them in the pitch black together. He wrapped one muscular arm around Arthur’s waist, and used the other to tug Arthur’s gym shorts down to his thighs. With easy strength, Oscar lifted him away from the bathroom vanity, turned, and set him down against the wall.

Oscar’s quickening breaths were the only sounds to be heard. With one hand, he cupped a handful of Arthur’s sac, and his body leaned hard against him. With the other hand, he gripped Arthur’s cock tight. Then, after a few more panted breaths, he began to tug. Soon, he was pounding away furiously, and his hips pumped against Arthur’s naked ass, desperate with need. Arthur felt the thick cock growing beneath Oscar’s pants, and he gripped his ass hard around it, stroking it, building the need. When Arthur finally came, Oscar held him tight, kissed the back of his neck, and pulled until every last drop had been spilled down the tiles of their wall Then he slipped out of the room, and back into the morning light.

This was their other custom: Never when there was a hint of light, and never to be spoken of.

At first, he thought Oscar might have been sleepwalking. When they had first met, it had only taken a few words for them to see they weren’t going to be friends. After that, they’d both made the effort to never spend too much time in the same room together. So, when he opened the door to Arthur’s bedroom one night, not bothering to knock, not saying a word, Arthur was sure something odd was going on. But Oscar had his lips around his cock before he could even ask what was going on.

Arthur had felt the powerful arms around his hips, and the tight lips that stroked against the edges of the head of his cock. It hadn’t taken any time at all before he felt his load spilling out of him, right down the back of Oscar’s gulping throat. They writhed and rolled together in Arthur’s bed, as Oscar eagerly sucked down every last drop.

It could have been sleepwalking. There certainly wasn’t a better explanation for it. Oscar didn’t mention it again, and made no sign that anything had changed. They ignored each other just the same as they always had. Only now, Oscar sometimes slipped into his bed and drained his cock.

Then it began happening during the day. One Monday morning, the lights had suddenly been switched off in the bathroom, and there was Oscar, dropping to his knees, and pulling Arthur’s pants down to his ankles. A moment later and Oscar ankara yabancı escort was dragging his tongue across his asshole again and again for nearly an hour, both of them lost in the pleasure of it. When Oscar slipped a finger in two knuckles deep, Arthur finally couldn’t take it. His body crumpled and he soaked the cabinets in long sprays of sticky white jets of cum. He could hear Oscar licking the drops up a moment later with a desperate hunger.

So, sleepwalking was out.

More than anything, they simply left too much evidence. If Oscar had been sleepingwalking or in a daze, he was well past the point of overlooking it. Firstly, at least one night a week, Oscar would fall asleep on top of him. And then, after a few weeks of taking it in his mouth, Oscar appeared in the doorway with ties wrapped around his wrists, and guided Arthur to latch them around the bedposts. Once he was on his belly and secured down tight, Arthur stripped him, and found the base of the smallest little butt plug in existence already buried inside the man.

Something about having this big, lumbering jock held down tight, with the most timid of sex toys eased inside, needing more, but so ashamed… It something off, and Arthur didn’t let him go easily. He pounded into him like he was meat, the rim of Oscar’s virgin ass gripping with all its strength, squeezing futility against him, unable to stretch any further.

Arthur used him hard. And, when he heard the moaning pleasure coming from beneath him, and Oscar began pumping backward, trying to speed him along, Arthur pulled out. With one cupped hand, Arthur slapped his ass raw with all his strength, again and again, until the man settled backed down onto his belly, whimpering, knowing his place. Only then did Arthur mount him again, pumping hard until he finished. It was his first time inside a man, and he twisted at pulled at Oscar’s body until he couldn’t bury himself any deeper.

For awhile after that, Oscar needed it nightly. He would follow Arthur into the shower, tug him from behind until he’d nearly finished, and then stop, refusing to move a muscle or say a word. When Arthur went limp again, his fist would be right back in place, pumping away, the water on Arthur’s body spraying hard droplets across his face from the force of the impact. He’d build into a frenzy, and then Oscar would be on all fours in bed, ready to take every drop of that pent up need that there was to give.

A new girl would come over, and things would go quiet. Back to the rare bit of small talk, the occasional head nod of acknowledged existence, the organization of grocery runs. One of those time, Oscar had suddenly come home with a cucumber the size of Arthur’s wrist. It was ten in the morning, but the shades went down, and the lights went off. Soon, Oscar was on his back, his knees tight against his chest, and Arthur was pumping the poor cucumber into him like he was churning butter, as deep as he could go. Oscar rarely came himself, but this time he did it in long, howling cries, the hot jets of sperm soaking the pelt of fur that ran up his belly.

Arthur knew one thing for certain: Oscar never made a sound like that when his girls came over. Because Oscar needed to be used. He wanted to be taken. He wanted to be a little cum slut. Arthur was more than happy to oblige.

After a few months of this, it was finally Arthur’s time to take the initiative. He opened Oscar’s door in the night while the man was falling asleep, kneeled across his face, and fed him his cock. When he was close, Arthur held the headboard, and pumped deep into the man’s throat, listening to him gag around it. He took his time and, when he came, he pulled out just in time to finish across Oscar’s face. bahçelievler escort He wiped himself on the man’s sheets, tossed them to the floor, and left.

Not long after, it became a routine for Oscar’s shower to be interrupted with the lights out, his feet kicked apart, and a command to reach down and grab his ankles. After a few days, Arthur didn’t even need to the words, and Oscar would hear the door and get into position.

Sometimes, when the girls came over and passed out, Oscar would creep by quietly in the night. His hands would wrap around Arthur’s cock, and he would bob his mouth up and down the shaft until he could drink down what he really needed.

Then, with college life finally winding down, there was a new girl there. They passed the time inside their room, and for the first time in weeks, Oscar never appeared to provide his service afterward. She was otherwise nothing of note until, after another day had passed, there was the girl again, nodding hello as she passed by his door, disappearing once more into Oscar’s room. This time, Arthur heard that wild, bellowing moan, loud enough to wake the dead. And Arthur felt, for the first time, the first hints of jealousy.

It was absurd, of course. There was nothing between them except physical need. But… it had felt good to be the only one in the world capable of making him feel like that. Of satisfying his secret desires. And now he had found someone who could play with his ass just as well. With the last days of school wrapping up, it looked like it was the end of everything. It made him far more melancholy than he would have guessed a few months earlier.

In the morning, there she was again, pouring herself coffee. She didn’t say much, and he didn’t mind. He found he wasn’t really in the mood. School past in a blur, and the two of them weren’t back in the apartment until well after Arthur had gone to bed and passed out alone. He didn’t hear them come home, and didn’t know they were there until a soft rapt rang out against his door.

It took a few more tries before he was out of his daze, and a few more until he could place the sound and struggle out of bed. Oscar never knocked. But, his heart raced a little faster. It was, he thought, about time.

But, when he pulled it open, it wasn’t Oscar at all. It was his new girl behind the door. Blonde, petite, with perky little tits beneath a thin white slip, standing in the moonlight. She was beautiful, and small, and smiling at him that took his breath away.

She didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“Yeah?” Arthur asked.

The girl glanced away, quickly blushing. Her voice was at a whisper.

“Could I… come in? I can’t sleep.”

Arthur felt his heart beating even faster. This was more complicated. She was Oscar’s girl after all. They weren’t friends, but that still wasn’t right. Their relationship was already complicated enough.

But, as he leaned in to try his best to explain that, there was Oscar, standing beside her, his hand around her waist.

“We can’t sleep,” she said.

Arthur’s lips were locked against hers as she tumbled backward into his bed. His hands were up her shirt, exploring the curves of her body, even before Oscar could tug it over her heard. Her nipples were small, and hard in his mouth. He lifted her effortlessly into his lap. She smelled like cherries, and her delicate little tongue was wrapped around his as they hit the pillow.

He felt her in the dark. The heavy club of meat between her legs that jutted against the walls of her skin tight jeans, pulsating with need, grinding into him. She was thicker even than he was, and her body was small enough that her tight ass fit perfectly inside his cupped hands. She was balgat escort exactly his type.

It took the three of them together to help her out of her jeans. Arthur took Oscar by the head and pushed him between her legs. She moaned as he took the length of her cock down his wet mouth. Arthur took her delicate wrists in one hand, and pinned them hard to the bed above her, as their tongues met again in her mouth. With his mouth on hers, he could feel the moans that came out of her as Oscar eased slower, keeping her from getting too close to the edge. He was a good boy. But Arthur could feel her need was becoming too much, she wouldn’t last at the edge much longer.

Arthur flipped the girl onto her belly easily, he heard the wet sounds of her cock spilling out from Oscar’s mouth as she spun. With one hand, Arthur lifted her to her knees, and with another he guided Oscar’s mouth between her cheeks. Her moans became a high-pitched squeal as his practiced tongue found her tight hole in the dark. Arthur held her up by her chin, guided his own sizable erection right between her lips, and she took in every inch he could give her.

She was as needy for it as Oscar was. Once she started to work the pre-cum from him in great, steady drips, he wrapped his hands beneath her armpits, lifting her into the air. Oscar, taking his lead, lifted her legs easily into the air as his tongue worked quickly in and out of the girl’s ass. She floated like that in the air between him, Arthur using her mouth slowly, Oscar rimming her quickly.

When he felt himself growing close, Arthur pulled her head from his cock with one hand, and popping free with a sound like a cork. He pulled her free from Oscar’s grip, too, and flipped her around before she had time to complain. With one hand, he held her still, and with the other he pressed the swollen tip of his cock between her tight, round cheeks. She sucked a breath in hard as he stroked the head against her, feeling the sticky saliva that Oscar had left for him there. Her legs quivered violently as her hole opened for him, and then again with each thrust deeper inside. But she took it quickly, her lithe body as hungry for it as Oscar’s had ever been.

Arthur felt the shifting of bodies as he eased his way back and forth, dragging himself in and and out of her, forcing her body to open for him. He could hear her moans of pleasure, the sweet cherry scent of her giving way to raw, animal sex. He could feel her body rising and twisting to accommodate as Oscar shifted on the bed. Then, a moment later, Arthur felt Oscar’s hair between his legs. He heard the wet sounds, and the girl’s satisfied moan, and he knew Oscar was underneath her, taking her down to his throat. Oscar was gagging, the girl was built like a horse, but he was taking it eagerly.

When Arthur came, he pinned her body down hard against Oscar’s. He could feel Oscar’s face between his thighs as he pushed deep into the girl’s tight ass. And when that wasn’t quite tight enough, Oscar wrapped his arms around the both of them, pulled them together even tighter, holding them until his arms ran out of strength a very long time later.

And then it was her turn. Arthur held Oscar’s mouth tight against his asshole, letting the boy lick him good, as the girl pumped into Oscar from behind. She finished in a sharp cry of relief, gave a few panting breaths, a few sobbing moans, and then started to pump again.

He could tell why Oscar had brought her home.

It was nearly light out by the time she fell, gasping for breath, onto her side. Oscar, greedy as ever, climbed back onto her and rode until he came himself, that great, howling, animal cry bellowing out once more. They slept in a pile just like that, and didn’t move again for hours.

They made breakfast in the morning together. Oscar asked him what he had planned for the day, and then what they should all get for dinner. The girl, who he found was called Suzi, passed them the coffee and asked them what they should do for lunch. Arthur ate happily, with one of her small feet kneading against his hardening cock, and Oscar’s hand on his thigh. The semester was going to pass all too soon.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

More than the Taj Mahal

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I wheeled my suitcase out of the New Delhi Oberoi Hotel, numb from a three-day international conference on Sino-Indian border disputes and more than ready for the three days of letting down and experiencing that I’d added on to my itinerary. I was checked out of the Oberoi, though, as nice as it was. I didn’t want any of my hoped-for experiencing to be mixed in with meeting any of the people who’d attended the conference with me. I was following the whispered directions of Horace, a guy I’d met at a Hindu meditation retreat I’d gone on as a lark and as an experience in my South Asian studies.

I had thought the meditation stuff was a bunch of malarkey, but for some reason I’d hit it off with Horace, a somewhat oversized black guy who said he thought his father was from Mumbai, what was formerly Bombay, and his mother, from the Bronx, but he couldn’t be sure. Horace and I couldn’t have been more different, other than we were both gay and had an interest in things South Asian. We shouldn’t have gotten on, especially since Horace wanted to make me and made no bones about it, but we did. I would have liked to give him what he wanted–I’d seen that he was hung and I liked big cocks. But I just couldn’t.

Horace was old–nearly fifty to my thirty-five and he was no beauty and was pudgy and soft. I went with men younger than I was, who were good-looking, muscular, and fit. I didn’t have any trouble attracting the attractive young guys. And Horace was black. I was a blue-eyed, fit, white Midwesterner, recently out of the army as a South Asia intel officer and now teaching those studies at New York University. Horace was leader of some sort of Hindu center in the Bronx, who had been on a busman’s holiday in the mediation retreat we’d both attended.

He was a glib talker and charismatic and there must have been something in what he did with a guy, because all of the other gay men went with him in the retreat and walked around dreamy eyed afterward. But there just was too much about him that didn’t turn me on, so I hadn’t. That hadn’t kept us from becoming friends or him from trying to make me. He’d kept saying you couldn’t judge a book by its cover and that sort of thing and that there were mysteries of the East and of Hindu sexual techniques, in particular, that I was missing.

When this conference came up, he got on my case, pressing me to try out Indian men while I was in New Delhi and to look past the window dressing and go for men who could give me the experience of the technique–he called it the male Kama Sutra. It’s the exotic nature of the fuck, he said. Any man with the right technique can send you to heaven.

“It doesn’t have to be me to begin with,” he said. “You can easily find it in New Delhi. They are experts in the exotic techniques there.” Then he gave me some pointers on what to look for and urged me to be open to it.

“Come back to me having experienced the techniques of the East without being influenced by external beauty,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

That “you don’t know what you’re missing” resonated in my mind all the time I was flying from New York to India. I wasn’t getting any younger. I was fighting the battle of body maintenance. At some time in the not-so-far-distant future, younger, beautiful men would not want to cover me anymore. This was my chance to give what Horace had been saying a chance.

One of the older men who had probably been stunning when he was younger but who now showed his age mentioned the “getting older” part to me when I noticed him coming out of Horace’s room smiling and humming. As old as he was, he was a lot better looking than Horace was and I thought could do better–but he’d obviously been satisfied by Horace.

So, I had booked three days’ stay in India beyond the conference I had attended.

Per Horace’s suggestion, I wheeled my suitcase past the rank of hotel cars in front of the Oberoi and around the block where there was another line of beat-up old cars of the independent cab drivers. Most of the drivers were out of their cabs and congregating by one, leaning into the taxi’s fenders–perhaps the only manner in which the fender was remaining on the car–smoking and jawing with each other.

Immediately forgetting what Horace had counseled, I picked out my driver by the look of him, not with any reference to the estimation of the endurance of his vehicle. The guy I picked–he couldn’t have been more than twenty, but I knew enough about India not to ask if he had a license or even that he was permitted to drive his cab–was a beautiful, slender, berry-brown young man with a dazzling smile and an unruly head of jet-black hair, with a couple of locks dipping down over his sparkling, jet-black eyes. My first thought was to wonder if he was a top. My second one was to remind myself that this was exactly what I had been advised not to look for.

“Look at the hands,” Horace had said. “And, yes, look at the crotch if you must. But look into the man’s interior, kolej escort past the flash of the exterior.” Then, when I’d given him a blank look, he had said something about a meditative Hindu would know what to look for and how to do it and, giving a sigh, had changed the subject. But he returned to it with, “You’ll be in India. For the time you are there try to be India. Go for the touch of the hands, not what is pleasing to the eye.”

In this instance, that was too late, though. The young man had seen me pick him out with my eyes.

“Taxi, mister? I take you anywhere you want to go. Cheap. Fast.”

Ah, good, I thought, he spoke understandable English. Most here spoke English as well, if not better, than I did. But they weren’t all understandable by an American. It was we, the Americans, who were insular in that regard, not others in the world. Immerse yourself in India. Be India, I said to myself, pursuing that as a mantra.

“Yes, please,” said, and I hardly had the words out before he had the trunk of his taxi open and my suitcase stowed away. The trunk lid came down, and there it was. I was his captive now. From the look of him, I think I could live with being his captive.

“Enter, handsome sir,” he said, opening the rear door of the cab. I got the impression that he was the one who would have to open it–that I couldn’t have figured out how to get it open as beat up as it was on the outside. “I take you to the Meena Bazaar, yes? Very good tail there, sir. All of the most beautiful young girls.”

“Take me to the LaLit Hotel, on Connaught Place, please,” I said. The Oberoi was a five-star hotel, but so was the LaLit. The difference, other than I needed a change of venue for the experiences I hoped to have, was that the LaLit was a gay-owned hotel, with a gay bar and nightclub in it. It was another recommendation by Horace. “Do you know where that is?”

“Yes, of course,” the young man said, giving me a fresh assessment look that told me that he, indeed, knew where and what the LaLit was. “My name is Sahil,” he added. “How long will you be in Delhi?”

“Three more days,” I said, after I’d gotten inside the cab. It was cramped for an American, especially one who worked out and maintained a muscular body as I did, striving to hang onto some semblance of youth and fitness into my thirty-fifth year. But the inside of the taxi wasn’t the shambles that the outside was, which had more the aspect of bumper cars than conveyance.

Once Sahil got in the front seat, I saw him turn a photograph around on his sun visor. It had been a pinup of a busty South Asian woman in just a bikini bottom. It was turned to a beefy guy in just a bikini bottom. I found that amusing. The driver obviously adjusted to his assessment of his fare. At least there wasn’t any trouble in establishing my interest here. I wouldn’t have to listen to any hard sell on finding a “woman.” And there wasn’t, I was sure, a better place for a foreigner in India to start hooking up with a man than the hotel he already was taking me to. At least that was what Horace had advised. Of course, I didn’t see any reason why he should have decided right off the bat that I was on the hunt. I was, but I didn’t see that I was conveying that.

“Three days. You stay with Sahil then. I know all of the places. You want a man–European man or Indian man? I know the best, the most handsome men of Delhi, both top and bottom. You English or American?”

“American,” I said. “Just the hotel, thank you.” He’d cut right to the chase. Had he caught on to me from the hotel reference, or was he able to assess that I was hunting for a man from the look of me and the look I’d given him when I picked him out from the rest of those leaning on the taxi? Was he gay too?

Was it a handsome man I wanted? No, certainly not a man handsome on the outside, having come this far and been primed by Horace. I could get a man in New York–I had gotten men in New York before Horace started encouraging me to branch out with my fetishes. No, I wouldn’t say and I didn’t want to even think it, but what I wanted was a master of Hindu sexual techniques no matter his own physical attributes. What had Horace called it–the male Kama Sutra?

Horace had said that most men who mastered the technique did so because they were lacking in the physical attributes they couldn’t do much about. I knew he’d said that because he wanted to make me himself and he was not a great physical specimen.

Still, the other men at the retreat… they’d gone with Horace and had come back staggering and fully satisfied. I had to struggle to overcome my prejudices.

“You want young guy?” he asked, persistent, and when I didn’t answer that from the backseat, he said, a bit under his breath, “or a dog?”

“No, not an animal of any kind,” I said, quite hurriedly. “Just the hotel, please.”

And then we were there. It wasn’t that long a drive from the Oberoi to the LaLit, maltepe escort even in the godawful traffic of this South Asian city. I handed over appreciably more money than Sahil told me the ride cost. He smiled and said, “I will stay nearby. I will take you wherever you want to go. I will show you a good time and make sure that no one cheats you. No questions, no worries. Sahil is your man. You want instruction on the male Kama Sutra? Sahil’s your man.”

Now, how had he known–or guessed–that that was exactly what I was looking for?

My natural gut instinct was to let Sahil be my man, but that would negate what I’d extended my stay in India to pursue. Horace had been quite explicit about India being my opportunity.

I got out of the cab, and stood in a crowd of men of various ages clutching at me and begging to be of service or to receive money while Sahil retrieved my suitcase, and then I followed him into the hotel lobby, as he refused to give up on connecting with me.

Setting my suitcase down by the reception desk, he murmured to me, “But perhaps you aren’t interested in the male Kama Sutra or you don’t know what it is.”

Telling myself I didn’t have time to be coy about this, I answered, “Yes, Sahil, I have heard about it and am interested in it.”

He beamed at me. “As I said, I will be nearby for when you need a guide.”

* * * *

The LaLit Hotel unabashedly hosted a gay bar and strip club, Kitty Su, which I went to that evening. The place was crowded and I got a lot of attention. There weren’t that many non-Indians in the place that evening. I wasn’t really in tune with cruising bars, though, so I drifted around with a drink in hand and smiled at those who smiled at me. I danced a bit on the dance floor with other men, some of them quite attractive–too many of them attractive for what I was looking for–drifting in and out to move with me, often suggestively so. The club had several rooms, which became more intimate as you moved through them to the club’s inner sanctum. As the evening progressed, I moved into the core of the place. I was looking for someone who I thought Horace wanted me to hook up with, but, unsurprisingly, the clientele just wasn’t anything like Horace. The hotel and this bar obviously were where the cream of the gay crop in India congregated. I had to believe that Horace wanted me to hook up with and melt to someone like him so that I would return to New York and give myself to him.

I eventually reached the inner sanctum of the club, where thong-clad young men languidly danced the poles and came off the stage from time to time to give a lap dance here and there. The strippers were young and willowy and tasked my resolve to look for something different.

It was my fortunate to receive such a lap dance–and from a small, beautifully formed young guy who looked to be in his late teens. It was a form of heaven. It also was a form of torture. I’d never been in such a position before. The stripper came right down off the stage, with a spotlight following him, and crouched over my lap, rubbing his thong pouch against my crotch, with all of the men around us egging him on. Most embarrassing is that I looked over toward the doors to the kitchen area off the room and saw that the taxi driver, Sahil, was standing there, in the doorway, and grinning at me.

The situation, the rawness and the arousal and unfamiliarity of it–added to the fantasy I had about the whole fetish thing when I came to India–got the best of me, and, before the dancer laughed and danced his way back on stage, I creamed myself in my briefs. It was like I was a silly youngster again with some sort of wet dream.

As soon as I could gracefully withdraw, I did so. In the lobby of the hotel, I found Sahil, still grinning, standing between me and the bank of elevators.

“Come with me,” he said. “I will take you where you can live your fantasies.”

Sahil had no idea what my fantasies were–what I was looking for in this visit. I had little idea myself what I was looking for. I hadn’t made the “be India” connection that Horace had. “No… thank you, Sahil,” I said. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight. I want to do some sightseeing tomorrow–the Red Fort and maybe go to Agra for the Taj Mahal–and I really should get some sleep.”

What I really needed to do was to go to my room, get out of these sticky briefs I’d come in, take a shower, and regroup on why I thought I was here trying to have sexual experiences I’d never had before. Was I too old for this? Was thirty-five over the hill? Was something wrong with me to be turned on by the desire to have sex with beautiful men younger than I was? I bet the stripper in the Kitty Su was less than half my age. But then he didn’t look like a top, so I’d managed to resist him.

I had had responded to another young man on the dance floor, making the mistake of asking–as if in amusement, but I really wanting mamak escort to know–why he was interested in me. “Is it because I’m American and may be rich,” I’d asked.

“It’s because you are American, may be rich, and are handsome in the turning age.”

“The turning age?” I asked.

“The age where you no longer are a young man but are still handsome enough to make a man hard and will be more grateful than a younger man to be given the attention.”

That stung, but I had asked for it, and I think he’d probably nailed the stage of life I was in and that I was following Horace’s directions at all.

“Yes, well, tomorrow I’ll be back at 9:30 in the morning to take you to the Red Fort,” Sahil said. “We are very close to it here–and I will take you to Agra and Taj Mahal. And I’ll take you to so much more in Agra. I know what you want. I know what you want to do.”

I started to say that wasn’t what I meant. I wasn’t engaging his sightseeing services for the next day any more than I wanted to hire him to take me cruising tonight. Well, I did, but I was all mixed up, and I’d creamed my shorts… and this just wasn’t working out as I imagined.

Then I did blurt out. “Do you really know what I want, Sahil? Do you know what I’m looking for? I don’t fully know myself. I certainly don’t know how to find it.”

“I think you are looking for what will touch you and move you at the core,” Sahil said. “And I think that Sahil can help you find it. You are interested in the Kama Sutra.”

“Why do you think that is, Sahil? Is it because I am of the turning age.” I wondered what he would know of that.

“Yes, sir, I think it is because you are of the turning age but are still to be highly satisfied–both you and your teacher–by experiencing the Kama Sutra.”

I knew it then. What I wanted was to feel fulfilled and look like I was as those men did who left being covered by Horace at the retreat. I wanted Horace. That’s why I had remained friends with him. I just couldn’t accept that he wasn’t as beautiful on the surface as the men I went with. I wanted to tell Sahil that and ask him if he really could help me find that–if he could make me be part of India, the part below the surface that touched me to the quick. I couldn’t say any of that, though, because as soon as Sahil had said he’d take me sightseeing the next day and that he’d help me find what I wanted, he’d turned and was gone. I hesitated, intending to go after him and tell him I didn’t want his help, but just then the elevator arrived, and, sighing, I boarded it.

* * * *

Upstairs, in my room, I stripped down and took a shower. After drying off, I put on the terrycloth robe I found hanging on the back of the bathroom door–nothing else–and went into the bedroom, sat at the foot of the bed, and fiddled with the TV on the wall opposite that. This being a gay-owned hotel, with a gay nightclub in it, I wasn’t surprised to find a couple of TV channels with gay male porn films running. I’d found packets of condoms and tubes of lube in the nightstand too. When I did, I wondered if they charged for the use of those and, if so, how much? I did find they were listed on the beverage charge list, and my eyebrows went up at what they cost. Of course, this was a five-star hotel even if it was in India, and it was quite a special service.

One channel I found was all South Asian guys, and I noticed that, in contrast to most of the porn I saw on the Internet in the States showing guys with great bodies, the Indian films I saw here had a mix of body styles. But it also had a mix of sex positions, many of which looked quite arousing. The word Kama Sutra kept being mentioned in connection with those films. So, this was what Horace had been suggestion.

I watched movies for a while, moving up and stretching out on the bed, with a pile of pillows under my neck and flaring the robe and stroking myself off. I didn’t come, though. I kept thinking of what I hoped to indulge in by prolonging my visit in India, and it wasn’t to do with what I could do on my own bed in New York City in front of my own TV running Internet porn, even though some of these films were a lot different from what I watched in New York.

That’s when I remembered arriving at the hotel this afternoon. Being a well-known gay-friendly hotel and this being India, there had been swarms of men to wade through on the plaza in front of the hotel, all offering much the same services as Sahil had offered me when he picked me up at the Oberoi.

I easily could pick up one of the men down in front of the hotel. They’d all been eager to hook up. I just needed to build up the courage to go ahead and do it.

Steeling myself to get to why I had extended my stay, I rose from the bed and dressed again, in clean clothes. I took the elevator down to the lobby floor and went out in front of the hotel. Maybe there would still be men–of all types and ages–offering themselves out there, I thought.

There were as many, if not more, than there had been when I’d checked in that afternoon. And, with the coming and going of men to the Kitty Su nightclub, there was quite a brisk hook-up business going on out in the street. There were small bonfires in old, cut-down oil drums, with men sitting cross-legged around them and calling out to men leaving and entering the hotel.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ride with Price Ch. 01

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All persons portrayed in this work are above the age of 21.

Please note: This is my first attempt at dual perspectives. Let me know if it works for you. It did for me, numerous times!

Prologue

Growing up in the north country (upstate New York) had its ups and downs. Back then, there was no such thing as being gender fluid, perhaps the closest thing was being called effeminate but to a kid in High School it meant being called a fag and that’s what happened to me in the spring of my junior year. Some guys on the football team thought I was getting too close to their girlfriends and thought it would be a good idea to put me in my place.

I admit, I was a little naive back then and when I went home afterwards all upset, my father had to explain it to me and pointed out my mannerisms. Growing up with 4 sisters had a bigger influence than I imagined. My father asked me whether or not I was gay and I told him I didn’t know.

My father’s words stuck in the back of my mind and I started noticing both men and women in a different light. I found both sexes turned me on and while I had an easy time attracting women, it was the 1980s and trying to be with a guy was a real challenge and I didn’t want that kind of stress.

In my junior year at SUNY Plattsburgh I met this woman and we were the perfect match. Ironically, she was a little dominant and I fell into a submissive roll around her but I was happy. We even looked similar and were around the same size. We wore each other’s clothes and she loved it when I was dressed up in all her lingerie and fucked her brains out. It turned me on to be dressed so.

Our families joked that we must have been twins separated at birth. We got married right after graduation and started a small software company doing early biometrics applications. We never had kids because we poured our lives into the company and each other.

In 2005, my wife, Heidi, the love of my life, had an allergic reaction to something she never knew she was allergic to and died. I was devastated by her loss. I wanted to keep her memory alive and vowed to never replace her and thought, as perverse as it may seem, that I should seek intimacy from a man. I fantasized about this constantly but always used the excuse that I was too busy with my company to act upon these desires.

Thirteen years later my software company got bought out. My team and I were rich and could retire but the acquiring company asked me to stay on and relocate to Boston. There was nothing holding me in Plattsburgh except the memories of my dead wife so I relocated.

However, being single, mid 50s and moving to a new city was quite an upheaval. I decided I would change a few things, one of which was to no longer be a recluse and try to meet new people, and try to pursue a relationship with a guy, however, I didn’t know the first thing about dating a guy, or meeting new people in general so I took up some new activities to help me get out and socialize with others.

I joined a car club and spent weekends going to car shows and driving to fun places but always felt like the odd man out because I was single and everyone else was partnered up. The other pastime I enjoyed was skiing. Living in Plattsburgh I lived close enough to some big ski resorts in the Adirondacks that day trips were easy and I went as frequently as possible although I always skied alone.

There were some smaller mountains within an hour’s drive of Boston but not as challenging and so I thought about joining a ski club. I found a few online but had no way of knowing if they were any good or not so I started asking around the office if there were any ski clubs in the area that they would recommend. One woman in accounting said she had a good friend that was a member of a group called Ride with Pride and she skied every weekend with them and that I should check them out. She cautioned me, though, that they were a gay group.

The Ride with Pride Ski Club was having a membership event the following Friday at a local brewery and I decided to go check them out. My work colleague was spot on because the first thing I noticed was that all the men were with men, and the women with women.

I was given a name tag and introduced myself to few people and then I realized, that most people there were grouped by their sex. I thought that this could be my opportunity to meet a man and fall in love.

The membership director introduced himself, “Hi, I am Theodore Bennington, but you can call me Ted.” He said, holding his hand out for a shake.

I grasped his hand firmly and I felt something that I never felt before, a shiver shot through me and I felt my penis stirring.

“Marcel Morin but please, call me Marc.” I noticed his raised eyebrow and added, “My family is from Quebec but I grew up on the ofise gelen escort US side of the border.”

“Interesting. Do you have any questions?” Ted asked.

“Just one.” I thought about how I wanted to say this and then I got closer to Ted, close enough that if I reached out I could grab his hips and pull him into a kiss. I was so nervous that I thought I might stammer and then I said, “I am not sure how to say this, I guess, technically, I am straight as I have never been intimate with a man before but don’t get me wrong, I am not opposed to it.”

I stopped talking and thought about what I should say next, then, “I am interested in seeking intimate company of a man, just that I am not sure how to go about meeting one.” God that must sound so corny.

“But I didn’t come here thinking this was a place I could,” I thought for a second for the right word to say and the only word that came to mine was, “Hookup.

I really like skiing and perhaps being around others who are gay would give me some insight in how to meet someone.” I said with a blush. Wow, I guess I just came out to a total stranger.

Ted smiled at my admission and said, “Very interesting. We have never had a straight member, let alone someone who is bicruious but I don’t see a problem.” Ted said with a smile on his face that imitated the Cheshire Cat.

Then he added, “Welcome to Ride with Pride. And don’t worry, I will keep your secret safe.” He winked at me.

Ted held out his hand again and I grasped it firmly.

“Oh, in that case I guess the only person I will have to worry about hitting on me is you.” I said with a smile as I continued to hold his hand and I stared into his eyes. Then from out of nowhere I said, “Has anyone ever told you, you have great eyes?” I felt a blush rise as I thought about what I just said – I am flirting with this guy and I have no clue if he is with someone. How stupid of me. Then I let go of his hand.

Unfazed by my comment Ted got down to business by saying, “Well, here is our PayPal account.” He handed me a card. I pulled out my phone and paid the full amount. He looked at his phone with it dinged and said, “Welcome to Ride with Pride Marc.”

He held out his hand again and we shook on it. I felt a shiver go up my back.

“Let me introduce some of the other more prominent club members.” Ted said.

Throughout the rest of the evening I met a bunch of people but didn’t remember many names. They were really friendly but I couldn’t get Ted off my mind and I kept stealing glances at him the whole evening. I have never felt an attraction to a guy before but for some reason I was drawn to Ted. He was taller than me, bearded, and looked really athletic. He didn’t fit the gay stereotype that I was familiar with. I wondered what it would be like to be with him,

Ted

This new guy, Marc, was on my mind the whole night. The fact that he was bicurious told me the his door was open but I had to be careful. Then I thought, it’s been five years since I was intimate with someone so this could be a learning experience for both of us.

Jane, the club President walked up to me and said, “Good work tonight Ted. 11 new members and I like that one guy, Marcell. He looks like a catch. You seem to be keen on him the rest of the night.” Jane said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“He said he was straight.” I said.

“Hah, the way he was looking at you all night tells me he thinks he is straight but he looked like he had the hots for you.” She said with a big smile.

Then she added, “Well, I don’t think we have ever had a straight male in the club.” Jane said. “No worries, if he’s OK with this then it doesn’t bother me.”

When I got home, I Googled him. He didn’t have a Facebook or Instagram, at least nothing that I could find. There was one article mentioning his name saying he sold his company in Plattsburg, NY to a company here in Boston and that he was hired on to continue running the company as a division. Not much else.

I pulled out my cock and started stroking it thinking about him and what I might do with him if it got that point. It’s funny, I have never been with an older man before but this guy had me hot and bothered really quickly.

In my mind’s eye, I fantasized how I would introduce him to gay sex. We would start out by kissing and touching each other. I would make the first move and pull out his penis and stroke him nearly to his peak and then stop. Next I would start kissing and licking his body as I took off his clothes.

Taking him in my mouth I would suck him to completion, happily swallowing his cum and then kissing him afterwards to judge his acceptance. If he had no problem tasting himself then I would encourage him to give me head. Afterwards, we would cuddle and fall asleep in his arms.

I knew I should have taken off my clothes but it was too late. My orgasm was messy but it felt so good. It had been awhile and there was a lot of cum. I cleaned up what I could and otele gelen escort then threw my clothes in the washer and took a shower.

Then my mother called, reminding me that I had to do some work for the Boston Symphony Fundraiser she was putting on next month.

Marc

Over the past month I picked up a few things that made my masturbation experiences a lot more pleasurable keeping in mind that I wanted to have sex with a man. I slipped on my cock ring and then my vibrating butt plug. Turning it on to the lowest setting sent a light vibration straight to my prostate and my penis got hard. Then pulled out the suction cup dildo and affixed it to a wall facing the mirror.

I loved sucking the toy while slowly stroking myself and watching myself in the mirror. I usually edge until I can’t take it anymore and then I would lay on my back, turn the virbrator to max and watch my penis shoot loads of delicious sperm all over my chest and abs.

Tonight, however, was different. In my mind’s eye, I pictured it was Ted’s cock I was sucking. It didn’t take me long to reach that plateau of bliss only this time I came in my hand. I coated the dildo in my cum and started savoring my cum as some of it was pushed into my throat by sucking on the dildo and the remaining I kept in my mouth.

Tasting my cum and having my mouth full of faux cock really excited me and I turned up my vibrating butt plug. The sperm from my previous orgasm that was in my hand made a nice lubricant as I sucked harder and pushed the dildo deeper into my throat. The taste of my sperm, combined with the delicious friction on my penis and vibrations at my core were pushing me towards another erotic nirvana that I have never experienced before. It was explosive. Cum went everywhere and I happily cleaned everything with my mouth. God, I want Ted.

Ted wasn’t far from my mind the rest of the week. I Googled Ted and found that there was a lot on him. Lots of great pics that I masturbated to at night.

It appeared that the Bennington family was steeped in old money. Ted didn’t come off that way, in fact he was very likable. Perhaps, because he was gay? I also found an interesting article in the Herald about Ted having a nasty breakup with what the paper called a Trust Fund Baby from another Boston dynastic family.

I also found an erotica website one night and read about all manner of gay interactions that added to my lust and fueled my masturbation sessions. I replaced the characters in the story with Ted and I. One thing was clear, I definitely wanted to be on the bottom of our relationship.

My favorite fantasy was where I was on my back and he was on top of me, inside me, kissing me passionately. His penis hitting my special spot. Our earlier foreplay was hot and we wouldn’t give ourselves the release that we both desperately wanted. Instead, we would hold off until he entered me. He is a passionate and selfless lover, making sure I always came first and then he would take his pleasure.

Ted

A month prior to our first trip I sent out an email letting everyone know about our first trip, subsequent trips, asking for RSVPs so I can get an idea on how many buses I would need. I also announced the new members and as usual everyone just hits Reply All, saying they are coming and including funny anecdotes for everyone to read, or welcoming the new members.

Marc’s reply was only to me. He said in his note that he was really excited to be skiing with this group and couldn’t wait to see me again. I wanted to read between the lines and say that he really wanted to see just me again but I held off not wanting to set some non-existent expectation that he actually wanted to start something.

The first weekend in November was the Ride with Pride first trip north. I arrived at the pick up point early, an elementary school in Concord and then the buses showed up. Everyone was coming out for the first trip, which was unusual because it was just going to be at Mt Tom.

Jane and her partner, Tammy, showed up next, followed by a stream of cars of the other members. The bus was leaving at 6 and it was 5:45 and no sign of Marc.

There was a lot of laughing and cajoling as the members deposited their gear in the bus luggage compartment and I heard bits and pieces of some of the guys talking about he new guy and that they heard he was straight.

“Where’s your new friend? Worried he’s going to miss the bus?” Jane asked.

“I texted him last night and he said he couldn’t wait.” I shot back. “You know he is new to the area, maybe he got lost.” I added.

“Hope he didn’t get cold feet. I didn’t see him reply to your email.” Jane said.

“Oh, he replied, but didn’t reply all like everyone else.” I said.

“Oh really!” She fired back, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Before you ask, we are not fucking.” I said adamantly. I wanted to add, ‘but I wish we were.’

Marc

I put my kit in the car the night before and I had everything set to rus escort go but forgot to set my alarm and I was now running 15 minutes behind. Why is the pick up way out in Concord? Why couldn’t it be closer? I thought to myself.

Rounding a corner my NAV told me I was there and sure enough there’s buses in front of a school, and I saw Ted and a woman talking. It’s 5:55 AM. I hope I can sit with Ted, I thought as I flew into a parking spot and then started gathering my things.

Ted

I looked at my watch and it was 5:55 AM when this Mini Cooper came flying around the corner and slid into a spot.

My tension dissipated as I realized it must be Marc. I hope he wants to sit with me, I thought.

He jogs over to Jane and I and says, “Sorry, I am late. I forgot to set my alarm.” He said throwing his ski bag into the luggage hold.

He had all his ski clothes on and a knapsack with his boots lashed to them. They were Tele boots! How did I get so lucky?

“You just made it.” I said clasping his shoulder. “Would you like to sit with me and I can give you the lay of the land so to speak?” Why did I say ‘lay’? Jane looked at me with a smirk.

“I was hoping we could sit together.” He said.

Marc

I was excited in more than one way that Ted asked me to sit with him. My penis was hard and my heart rate was elevated. Being around him gets me excited.

I took the window seat and he sat down next to me. We were in the second row with Jane and a woman sitting in front of us and two guys sitting in the seats across the aisle. They were whispering back and forth with one another and looking at Ted.

I turned my body towards Ted and listened to him intently but in the back of my mind I was thinking about how his body would feel atop of mine and his penis inside me.

Ted

I told Marc about how things worked, meeting for lunch, getting back to the bus, etc., but I got the impression that he was only half listening to me and that he was mentaly undressing me with his eyes. Thinking about that got me aroused and I squirmed a bit in my seat.

I kept noticing Justin and Jim, who were sitting across the aisle, were chuckling and looking in my direction.

I got through my monologue and then asked, “Any questions?”

“Just one, do you ski alone?” He asked.

“I usually ski with Jane and her partner since we are the only ones that Telemark ski.” I said.

“Great, I Telemark, too! Thought I was going to be an odd duck amongst all these snowboarders.” He said.

“I noticed your boots. Great to see that others are into the sport.” I said.

I couldn’t believe my luck. Sure there are lots of guys that Telemark but how many are gay? At least that’s the vibe I am getting from Marc. Then there’s the fact that he drives a Mini. I know it’s a stereotype but still.

Marc

Finding out that Ted was a Telemark skier was a dream come true. That was the one thing I could never get Heidi, my deceased wife to try, she was a down hiller, through and through.

“I like your car, what model is it?” Ted asked.

“2015 Mini Cooper Clubman. 6 speed, stick.” I said.

“I love sticks.” He said.

“Me, too.” I said blushing.

“You will need to check out mine, too, then. I have a John Cooper Works 2 door convertible.” He said excitedly.

Just then Jane, the club president, looks over her seat and says, “could you two keep it down, we are trying to sleep here.”

“OK, sorry for disturbing you.” I said in a whisper.

I leaned closer to Ted and said, “I am going to try and go to sleep for a bit, too.” He smelled good.

“Good idea.” He replied.

I leaned in to him and closed my eyes. He put his arm around me and laid his cheek upon the top of my head. It felt so good that I was asleep in seconds.

Ted

Having Marc fall asleep against me was wonderful and no sooner was he breathing deeply that I felt myself drift off as well.

I was jolted awake by the bus stopping.

I roused Marc awake and then we were off the bus and heading into the lodge with our gear.

Marc and I skied with Jane and Tammy all day and we took frequent brakes because the type of skiing we do is really tiring.

On the lifts we shared a lot about our lives, our likes, dislikes, our careers, and where we see ourselves going. We found that we had a lot in common and a lot not in common. I was intrigued to learn that while he was American his family was French Canadian and he had dual citizenship.

I told him about my law career and how I do mostly pro-bono work and work a lot in the community, as well as run my mother’s charity.

I ate up everything he told me about himself.

Marc

Skiing with Ted was awesome. The way we talked freely with one another was so comforting and I found that I wanted to know everything about the man I was falling in love with. This wasn’t the lust talking that fueled my masturbation fantasies. This was getting to know someone on level with my own and while we come from different backgrounds the ups and downs of our life experiences that have shaped us to the way we are today, at least to me, seems like we are the perfect match.

However, I have never dated a man before and I am totally clueless about how to go about doing it so I am hoping that things will fall into place.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I Asked For It…

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I woke up with a bit of a hangover. I get some food out of the fridge. I started the computer it started restoring pages. Gay sites in the middle of a movie I streamed it to the TV. I was drunk the night before watching gay porn. I was eating watching two guys fucking. I started digging around in the fridge and found a couple of beers. I needed them. I was watching the porn movie and hearing the sounds of moans and him saying how good it felt.. They usually act like they’re enjoying getting fucked and their just doing it for the money. I think he was not acting he was truly enjoying getting fucked. I was getting into this guy getting fucked in the movie and I envied him.

I heard the phone beeping. I look at the message from an app. Must have been drunk. I did not remember downloading the app. It’s a gay app. The guy is asking me what kind of sex are you into? I was watching this guy in the porn movie still. Half of my mind watching the movie and the other half in this text conversation. Then I just lost my mind. I subconsciously or I should say not consciously. I just blurt it out in a text of all things to text. Texted I need a good buttfucking. I want a cock in my ass bad. I want to get fucked good and hard. Soon as the text went out wished could cancel it. He texts how about in 20 min? I texted him back and asked where? He suggested a place where we could meet then go around back, etc. I said OK

I was getting horny as hell. I had not been fucked in the ass in so long. I am usually just a cocksucker. I do enjoy getting buttfucked if it’s done right it does feel great. I have a B-day so I get on the toilet spread my asshole and flush it out. Then I put a glob of KY jelly up in my asshole spread some around the crack of my ass stuck my finger gölbaşı escort in started stroking my dick getting even hornier. Lube is so very important. I wanted to be prepared I was thinking that he may show up. Watching that then texting that I wanted a cock up my ass so bad got me so horny. This all came out of the left-field caught me off guard.

I get there and did not believe that I was doing this. I was still a little drunk from the night before. Then a car pulls up and he says, are you?. I said yes. We get out and go in back. I wanted to see myself getting fucked. I asked him if it was OK if I recorded us having sex. He said it was OK with him as long as he gets a copy. So I set up the phone aimed it and put it on record. He Whips his dick out it was about 8.5 inches not too thick a nice cock. I got down on my knees and sucked it for a few minutes. I did not want him to cum. I stopped and said well let’s do this.

I licked and kissed his balls he had a nice tight nut sack I love balls. So then get up pulled my sweat pants down. I bent over and reached back and spread my ass cheeks wide wanted that cock up my ass so bad. It goes in all at once.. Going way deep in like that felt like an electric shock. I said oh fuck!!! really loud. He says he was sorry that it just went all the way in at once. I said ya I know. I asked him to be still for a while and let me relax. I think it must have been the blob of KY jelly I put in my ass. His cock slid right into my ass. He was not that big but going in all at once was overwhelming. I started to relax.!!! I have to be relaxed to enjoy getting fucked.

I just said asked? No more like demanded. OK now fuck me good!!! He takes his keçiören escort dick almost completely out then just heads in then puts it deep back in my ass. It felt good taking long thrusts out just head in then deep in full cock length thrusts. I was coming back with my ass to meet his thrusts. Started hitting up against my ass hard. It was making slapping sounds. Loud echoed we were. It turned me on. Then I said? No, I demanded he fuck me good Faster! Deeper! harder! asked for it? He dam near knocked me down. I said let’s move over there so I can lean on something. I moved the phone it was still recording.

So we gotta rhythm going again. Making them loud slapping sounds. Did I say? No, demanded again Faster! Harder! Deeper! fuck me good and fuck me hard. I was not asking I was yelling. Then he started pounding my ass fucking the hell out of me. The faster harder and deeper he fucked me the better it felt. It felt so dam good. I was craving a cock in my ass so fuckin bad since I got up and saw that movie and sent that text. It felt so goddam good it was just so overwhelming. The sounds and the feel of him slapping against my ass. It echoing was kind of funny. It felt and sounded so good. I was enjoying it. I did say that I needed a good buttfucking so dam bad. I was getting one and a real good one.

I was standing there getting fucked doggy style. I was bracing myself leaning hands holding myself steady. I was getting pounded hard me yelling at him and demanding really got him going. Then all of a sudden I started cumming. I did not even touch my dick. I looked down it was spitting cum all over the place. Then my rectum mussels started to pulsate uncontrollably. I did not know kızılay escort what that was but it felt good. My butthole pulsating like that it was gripping on his dick knew. Then I felt his cock it started pulsating in my ass then he came to. When he came shoved deep up in my ass. I felt that hot cum gushing and pumping up into my ass.

That was so stupid heat of the moment no rubbers. I was kind of glad I never had anyone cum in my ass. I got to admit it felt good. He pumped my ass a few more times after he came. When he pulled his cock out of my ass and I came again. I was just standing there like I was frozen. He asked me are you OK? Yes, I am fine I just feel like I’ve been turned inside out.

I just need a minute to compose myself then the cum started gushing out of my butthole. My sweat pants were still around my ankles when the cum gushed out it went all over my sweat pants. He blew one big load up in my ass. I told him thanks. Not for the load that gushed out my ass on sweat pants. It did feel good going in. I thanked him for the good hard buttfucking and told him I needed that so bad. Then said that he needed to give it worst than I did getting it. He had nice sized cock for it was not to big or small. I was glad he enjoyed it.

I went to get the phone and it was still recording 39 minutes past since I moved the phone. He said let’s keep in touch I said sure. We did not even exchange names. I got home and did not want to believe what had just taken place. I plugged the phone into the big TV and started watching it. It was strange to watch myself getting fucked like that.

The sounds that I made. I was not even conscious of making them at the time. Watching myself bent over like that spreading my cheeks. His dick going in and pounding my ass. The sounds echoed. Watching him fuck me in the ass so fast and hard it looked so sexy. I have to admit that was one hell of a good buttfucking. Well, I got what I asked for. I was asked a simple question and I gave a simple answer. Without giving it much thought. I asked for it. Well, I GOT WHAT I ASKED FOR…

I WAS GLAD I ASKED.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Big-dick Bottom Pt. 04

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s note: This series contains (occasional) descriptions of rough and forced sex, some of which crosses the boundaries of consent. If this is not up your alley, please click elsewhere! All sexual contact described occurs between adults aged eighteen years and older.

Part 04

The rest of June was a blur. I worked every day, weekends included, delivering pizzas from three to close. I was putting hundreds of miles a week onto my old truck, but thankfully my grandpa had kept it in good condition before I inherited it. In complete honesty, the Blazer only had to last a couple more months until I went away to college. In the meantime, I was getting reimbursed for mileage at a rate that more than covered my gas expenses, and I was pulling in at least fifty dollars in tips most days on top of my hourly salary. I was feeling pretty flush. I’d never had money like this before.

Like a good son, I did what my parents wanted — put the money away for college — mostly. I packed the cash away in a shoe box in my closet and deposited my checks into a savings account. But I also indulged myself a little. I kept about twenty bucks on me at any given time, which I used to get an occasional soda and bag of chips at the gas station or a comic book from the arcade at the mall. And when Mario insisted on taking us out to Gio’s after work — something that happened at least a few times a week — I was proud to be able to pull out my wallet and buy everyone a round of drinks.

“Uh-oh, Paulie’s whippin’ out his fat wad, here comes his big Lincoln!” Mario would shout, as I tossed a fiver onto the table.

Ever since he’d seen my hard penis in the bathroom at Gio’s after my first day at work, Mario had been a little bit… weird. He developed the habit of making not-so-subtle references about my dick. I was embarrassed at first, but after a while his cheerful jabs began to seem like a normal feature of the job. And if I had to be honest, the attention he paid me wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

For the first time in my life, here was a guy — a man — Mario, who didn’t seem put off by me. In fact, it even seemed like he liked me… liked having me around. Initially I didn’t really understand it and I was constantly braced to receive a jeer or an insult from him, like most of the guys I’d ever been around. After all, he was definitely a dude’s dude. He liked sports and girls — two of his favorite topics to discuss when we were out at Gio’s, especially if Derek or Jason or Danny were with us. He talked about a string of girlfriends, although I never saw him with a date. And he was really physical with all the guys who worked at the restaurant. Like an overgrown puppy, he was always pawing at us or play-wrestling us or smacking our asses with a rag. With the women, he was less handsy, although he would occasionally play-punch Stacy’s arm or slap her back appreciatively when she made one of her dry, cutting jokes.

When I asked Stacy if she and Mario had ever, you know… she just laughed and told me to pull my head out of my ass. He had drunkenly asked her out once, she told me, but she had been dating somebody at the time, a guy named Ben, and she had made it clear to Mario that she didn’t need another alcoholic boyfriend. Since then, she said, they had been on easy, friendly terms. It was almost impossible not to be on friendly terms with Mario, she’d said. And when she’d eventually dumped Ben, Mario had been solid — he’d even helped her move back into her grandma’s place.

~

Most of the time, Stacy came along when we went to the bar after work. She’d ride with either Mario or me, or one of the other guys if they came along. Stacy didn’t have a car — the reason, she said, that she worked as an assistant manager when she’d much prefer to be a delivery driver.

“Are you kidding?” she scoffed, when I asked her why. “Stuck in that hot, shithole kitchen, sweating, reeking of grease and sausage, listening to Derek and Jason out-dumbass each other? No way. If I had a car… oh, baby… I’d be out on the road. Petal to the metal. In fact, if I had a car, I’d be long gone. Fuck Pizza Hut.”

“But you get paid way more as a manager,” I said.

We were sitting at Gio’s, halfway into a second pitcher on a Wednesday night after work. Mario was at the bar, yelling and doing shots with a group of his cousin’s friends. Derek and Jason were off in the corner, playing darts.

“After tips, I bet you take home more than I do,” she replied, blowing smoke out of the side of her mouth.

“Tips are unreliable,” I countered.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you do OK on tips,” Stacy said, sarcastically.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“People have been asking for you, did you know that?” Stacy said. “Like, they call up and say, ‘Hey, darlin’, why don’t you send over that little skinny kid?'” She lowered her voice and added a twang to caricature the voice of a dumb-sounding customer.

“Really?” I said, pretending to be surprised. I fiddled eryaman escort with my half-empty glass of beer. “That’s so weird. Hey, did a lady really order three pizzas with no sauce or cheese today?”

“It’s always the same guys, too,” Stacy said, ignoring my attempt to change the subject. “Like, the same six or seven dudes. Our best customers all of a sudden. I mean, who wants to eat that much shitty pizza?”

I laughed, nervously.

Stacy snubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray and then folded her arms, looking at me quizzically.

Oh boy. I took a deep breath.

~

So, my days usually went like this. I would wake up late. Nine or ten or even later. I would spy on the neighbors. After a short hiatus following my incident with the ginger, in which they seemed to disappear, the three of them — daddy, son

and the ginger — were back at it, moving earth and more recently laying large paving stones to form what looked to be some sort of elaborate terrace zigzagging down the slight incline of their back lot. I’d watch the neighbor daddy and his boys as I emerged from sleep, sometimes a bit hung over from my nights at Gio’s.

Whereas before the ginger had been proud and cocky, strutting around in his makeshift tank tops, showing off his bulky arms, spitting and swaggering — now he was cowed, bent, hunched and scuttling as he assisted his dad and brother plow or lay stones into the earth. Whatever had happened after his daddy had caught us in the shed, it had seemed to break him. He looked… weak.

Daddy, on the other hand, was even more eye-catching, if that were possible. More often than not, my eye would slide past the ginger and settle on daddy, watching his big thighs rub against each other as he swaggered around the yard, pointing and grunting, telling his boys what to do and where to do it. I remembered the feel of his hard, ridged cock pressed down by the palm of his hand onto my ass crack, rolling around in his spit.

I would stroke my erection and press my fingers against the clenched ring of my hole each morning, watching him. But I wouldn’t come. I didn’t let myself. I just used the friction I gathered from watching him and his sons to charge up and fuel my quest, my new mission each day: to find cock to suck out on the road.

At three I would arrive at work, pick up my first round of deliveries and see what the fates had lined up for me. Most days, those first deliveries were the least productive in terms of tips and also in terms of, well, the other perks I’d come to discover on the job.

Afternoon was the realm of the geriatric set, for the most part. Old people who thought that a reasonable window for dinner started at 3:30 PM. They were also the worst tippers, on average. Please, by all means, forget to bring your money to the door. I have plenty of time to wait while you count change out of your purse that you have to fetch from your bedroom when the pizza arrives. And that fifty cent tip you gave me because I’m such a “nice boy”… I tried not to let it bother me. I dug deep and smiled and said, “Thanks, I appreciate it.” I was a good Lutheran kid, after all. Charity, humility, and all that.

Things tended to get interesting around the beginning of the dinner rush. I was doing a lot better at making my deliveries on time. My sense of direction had never been that great, but something clicked as I got more confident driving around the area. It was like I had an ever-growing map in my head — I started to be able to visualize a route in my mind when I was handed a list of addresses. I learned the shortcuts I could take. After a few weeks, I knew where and how I could shave precious minutes off my route. And those minutes became even more valuable once I started to pick up a few “regulars”.

I thought of it as my spider sense. A feeling I’d get sometimes — impossible to describe, really — when I’d ring a doorbell and a man would come to the door. Maybe something about the way he looked at me or the way he stood, it just set off my antenna. The first time, of course, was the beefy blond guy who fucked me out at the farm on my first day of work. I just sensed that there was something lurking behind his deep, green eyes. But pretty soon after that, there were others.

There was this older guy, maybe 45 or 50. He definitely wasn’t a looker — he was balding and kinda fat. When he first opened the door, I felt nothing out of the ordinary. Just another chubby dude ordering a large sausage pizza to eat by himself on a Tuesday night. But when we made eye contact, I felt something tighten in my groin and a shiver ripple across my back. He was wearing a bathrobe and his skin was still wet from a shower. As I handed him his pizza, his hand made contact with mine and I felt a pulse of desire surge between us. As I stood on the porch, he undid the loose belt of his robe. It swung open to reveal a round, furry belly. And hanging underneath was esat escort a ridiculously fat, almost beercan-thick, semi-hard cock.

He stood there, with a questioning look on his face. I went weak in the knees at the sight of his fat cock. I looked up at him and a second later I was on my knees, straining to get my lips around the head of his insanely thick dick. I can’t say it was the most elegant blowjob I’d ever given. There was just no way to accommodate the girth of him without breaking my jaw or scraping his cock with my teeth. But he didn’t seem to mind. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head onto his cock, teeth and all. He grunted like a boar as he fucked my face, and holy shit was he a big cummer. He pulled out of my mouth and sprayed my face with cum, and then pumped himself, slinging long ropes of semen across the back of my shirt, soaking it. After he came, he was a bit sheepish. He apologized profusely and tried to wipe up some of the mess he’d made on me with a flap of his robe.

“No worries,” I said, hopping up to my feet. “I have napkins in the car.”

He tipped me five dollars. “Wow, thanks mister,” I said, genuinely surprised at the tip. “Enjoy your pizza, sir.”

Curiously, five bucks seemed to be the going rate for the “extra services” that I provided on certain deliveries. It’s why Mario was always ragging me for my “fat roll of Lincolns”, or my “largess” as he would say, with a wink and a slap on the back.

Beercan was a pretty reliable weekly source of “Lincolns”. Every Monday or Tuesday, and sometimes later in the week, too. Then there was “the cowboy”, as I thought of him — the blond out in the country with the insanely ridged cock head — who ordered pizza for his day laborers every Saturday. Since his farm was a ways out of town, I really had to lead-foot it if I wanted to stay on-schedule, because, depending on his mood, I could usually count on him for a bona fide fuck. In the kitchen or in the barn, he would wrap his hands around my neck and ram his spit-slicked, knob-headed cock deep into my ass.

The second or third time he fucked me, he pulled my pants completely off and flipped me over onto my back. He grunted in surprise when he saw my penis. But he just started fucking me faster and even put his hand around my dick as he fucked me, jacking me off. Until then, I’d never orgasmed while being fucked, but his rough hand on my dick and the pounding of his cock in my ass sent me over the edge and I spewed cum up over his hand and arm. Then he pulled out and shot his load up onto my belly and chest. I pocketed my tip, always at least ten bucks, and trotted back out to my truck, dripping cum, past the group of guys chowing down on pizza in the driveway.

So yeah, Saturdays were generally good days.

I picked up a few more regulars over the weeks. Nothing too remarkable except maybe the guy I called “sad dad”. The first time I delivered to his house, I heard a cacophony of shouting when a woman opened the door. As I handed her the order, four little kids ran through the foyer of the house, screaming — one had an other’s hair in her fist, and a little boy followed, sobbing, covered in what I hoped was chocolate.

“So sorry,” she said, apologetically. “It’s been a rough day.” I smiled, sympathetically. She looked exhausted. One of the kids had come back and was trying to climb up her leg to get to the pizza.

“Oh, um, sorry. Wait here. My husband will be out in a sec to pay you, OK?” she said, peeling the child from her leg.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied. She shut the door and I kicked at the dirt along the side of their porch wondering how long I was going to have to wait.

After a few minutes I heard the sound of an automatic garage door opening. I walked around to see a rumpled-looking man leaning across the passenger seat of a minivan.

“Left my wallet out here,” he said, turning to me. When he straightened up, I saw that he was tall and broad, and while he had gone a bit soft in the waist, I could tell by his musculature that he must have been some sort of athlete as a younger man. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a faded T-shirt displaying the name of a local state college. I gulped when I saw the prominent bulge at his crotch.

He handed me a twenty-dollar bill. “Never have kids,” he said, and he winked at me. He was smiling, but there was a pained look in his eyes. He looked just as exhausted as his wife.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem for me,” I said, taking the money.

He squinted at me and cocked his head.

“What do you mean?” he said. My spider sense started to tingle.

I shrugged, but stood there, maintaining eye contact with him. He reached down and adjusted the bulge in his pants. My eyes dropped to watch the movements of his hand. The dad looked around and then grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back into the garage.

In the dim, yellow light of a hanging, exposed bulb, I sucked etimesgut escort his cock as he leaned against the hood of his minivan. The guy was hung, for sure. Not as thick as Beercan by any means, and not as glorious as the cowboy’s cock, but a good amount of length and girth with an interesting leftward twist. I struggled to get him down my throat but eventually I was able to take him all the way. He fucked my face in long, slow strokes, holding the back of my head for leverage. When he came, his whole body shook and I felt the spasms in his cock as he disgorged a disconcertingly huge load of cum down my throat. I wondered when the last time this guy had ejaculated. Had it been days? Months? Years?

When I pulled off of him, cum streamed out of my mouth and onto the concrete floor of the garage.

“Damn,” he said, looking somewhat shocked at the scene — my cum-covered face and his reddened, crooked dick still hanging out of his pants, shiny with spit in the dim yellow light. Gently, I put his dick back into his sweatpants for him and then pulled myself up to stand. He was still looking at me with a confused look. I felt boldness surge through me.

“Call again soon,” I said, and walked back out to my truck. And he did. Twice a week, usually.

All in all, in short order, it was a rare day that I didn’t have a customer’s dick in my mouth. As the weeks went by, I went to the quarry less and less. I realized that I was just going out there in hopes of finding him again — the big, muscle-soft guy. But he wasn’t ever there, and these days I had plenty of access to miscellaneous dick at work. Sure, my anonymity was slightly more compromised when I was delivering pizzas, etc., than it was at the quarry. But I felt protected by an unspoken clandestine pact with the guys I serviced out on the road. I had their address, after all.

~

“So, yeah,” I said, avoiding eye contact with Stacy while she stared silently at me across the booth. “I suppose I do have a few, um, loyal customers.”

“Loyal customers? What does that even mean?” she replied.

I rubbed my ear and gave her a shrug, trying to appear casual. She wrinkled her eyebrows in annoyance. Then she leaned in toward me.

“Paulie, level with me, will you? You’re gay, right?”

I stiffened and took in a loud, involuntary breath. Stacy reeled back with a surprised look and then reached across the table to grab my arm. I pulled it away from her. I felt fear flood my body, and I cursed myself for having had such a revealing reaction.

“Hey, look, it’s not a problem with me,” she said, quietly. “I could give less of a shit.” She laughed and shook her head, then pulled out another cigarette.

I started to calm down a bit. And then, around the edges of the anvil of anxiety that had come down on me, I started to feel something else. A sense of relief. My shoulders relaxed and I sat back against the tacky wood of the booth seat. Stacy looked at me and cocked and eyebrow as she drew in a lungful of smoke.

“So?” she said.

“Yeah,” I replied. “You’re right.. I’m gay.” Even more relief flooded my body.

“I knew it,” she said with a smirk. “And good for you, really. It makes you more interesting than, like, 99 percent of these fuckwads.” She waved her cigarette around at the crowd of people in the bar.

“Does Mario know?” I asked, looking over at Mario, who was still talking and laughing with the group of guys at the bar.

“I mean, probably?” Stacy said. “It’s not like we’ve talked about it or anything… but, Paulie… c’mon. It’s kinda obvious.”

I felt a surge of indignation and frustration. Fueled, no doubt, by my life-long attempt to police my every word and movement so as not to betray my natural inclination toward… well, faggotry. But then I let it go. The cat was out of the bag. Stacy knew. For the first time, someone knew for a fact that I was gay, and didn’t seem to hate me for it. I looked at her for a long beat.

“What, I don’t scream John Wayne to you?”

Stacy snorted. She poured both of us another half-glass of beer.

“Cheers,” she said, clinking her glass against mine. “Here’s to your fabulous gay life, Paulie.”

“Thanks,” I said, still feeling chagrined.

“But back to what I was saying before, why the fuck are these guys calling up and asking for you to del…”

“Hey, hey! What are we toasting?,” Mario said, suddenly appearing at the booth with Derek and Jason in tow. Mario slid in to sit next to me. He reeked of tequila. Stacy looked annoyed to be cut off, and shot me a look, but then she raised her glass.

“To Paulie… the sweet tit of Pizza Hut has been good to him these past few weeks,” Stacy said.

“Hey, ho, Paulie-oh!” Mario said, and poured us all more beer from the pitcher. Then he raised his glass, sloshing beer over the side. “To Paulie and his massive success!”

We all cheersed and drank and I felt Mario’s big mitt of a hand on my knee, under the table. He gave my leg a squeeze and then ran his hand up my thigh until he hit my crotch, then gave me another squeeze before taking his hand away. I felt blood surge into my dick and to my face.

“Hey,” Mario said, wiping froth from his upper lip on the back of his arm, “you guys should come over to my place. My cousin’s friends are coming over, we’re gonna have an after party.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Eddie – The Yorkshire Kitchen Fitter Ch. 01

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Eddie: The Yorkshire kitchen fitter.

I find the whole process of hiring tradesmen pretty stressful. Having a straight, overly masculine guy invade your home and space can be a bit unsettling for a gay guy. You never know how they’ll react when they find out you’re gay and there’s the whole issue of making small talk when you don’t have any interest in football, cricket or rugby: I find the whole thing a struggle.

Before I tell you what happened with Eddie, my kitchen fitter, let me introduce myself:

My name is Dave, I’m a 38-year-old single gay guy. I have my own home in Yorkshire in the North of England and have a good job most of which I do remotely from my office in the spare bedroom.

I was not relishing the idea of having a kitchen fitted. The mess, the inconvenience and the stress of having people in the house were all things that had made me put off the work for as long as possible. When one of my cupboards finally fell off the wall I knew it was time to sort it.

I researched and purchased my kitchen online, then set about finding someone to fit it. When Eddie came around to give me a quote for the job we hit it off immediately. He was in his early 50s, handsome in an older guy ‘daddy’ sort of way with a shaved head and piercing blue eyes. He was about average height, but solidly built. From his shape, you could see he worked manually for a living and I suspected that he was quite muscly under his work gear.

Anyway, we chatted as he looked around my existing kitchen and told me what needed to be done to get the old one out and the new one in and that it would probably take a couple of weeks from start to finish. He asked me if anyone else lived there, and I said that I lived alone.

“Not married then?” He asked me quite gruffly in his thick South Yorkshire accent.

“Nope,” I said, “actually I’m gay”. He didn’t react (a good sign)

“Well good for you lad”, he said after a moment. “I went through a divorce last year and would absolutely not recommend it”

He went on to tell me that he and his wife had just got bored of each other after their daughter had left home, and his ex-wife had recently gone to live down south with “a bloke she met on the internet” and that he was currently dipping a toe into the world of online dating. “It’s hard work!” He informed me.

Eddie’s quote for the kitchen was about what I expected, so we arranged that he’d start in four weeks’ time. I was to empty the kitchen and have it ready for him. I’d be living off microwave meals in the living room for a couple of weeks.

Four weeks later, Eddie arrived on time. I let him in the front door and we pushed past the huge boxes containing the new kitchen, which were taking up most of the hall. I made him a mug of tea using the kettle which I’d hastily moved to the living room that morning.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need me, I work from home,” I told him.

“Great” he replied. “It might be quite noisy until I’ve got the old kitchen removed, but if I’m making too much noise just give me a shout and I’ll do something else for a bit.”

The next few days went as expected. Eddie arrived at 8 am, let himself in with the key I’d given him and left again at 5 pm. Between calls and work meetings, I kept him supplied with cups of tea and he’d occasionally shout up the stairs and asked me to confirm some detail about the kitchen.

Once such time he asked me to come down and decide whether I wanted white or chrome edging strips on the tiles.

“I’m not sure”, I said, it’s quite hard to visualise until the tiles are up.

Look here” he said, pulling out his phone and scrolling opening his photo app. He selected a photo and handed me the phone.

“This was a job I did for a couple over in Wakefield, their kitchen was similar to yours, I think the silver edging looks petty neat”

He was right, the kitchen did look good and I liked the band of shiny chrome that ran around the side of the tiles, halfway up the wall.

“It looks great,” I said “Let’s go for it.”

It was clear from the photo that he took pride in what he did. “The whole thing looks amazing, I hope mine looks this good”

“It will,” he said, beaming at me, his blue eyes twinkling with pride.

Automatically, my finger scrolled forward to the next photo, hoping that there would be another shot of the same kitchen. The photo that came up on the screen was not of a kitchen, it was of a penis. A big, long, girthy erect penis. The photo had been taken in a bathroom mirror and a pair of hairy, muscly thighs were also in the shot.

Eddie immediately snatched the phone back. “Shit!” He exclaimed, his face etlik escort turning bright red. “Sorry mate,” I’d forgotten that was there, online dating you know, sometimes you need to send to odd dirty pic out to a lady.”

“Don’t worry!” I laughed, secretly delighted that he’d confirmed that the beautiful big dick in the photo was his. “I know how it is, we’ve all been there”. He was clearly uncomfortable, so I changed the subject, back to the kitchen and asked him if he wanted another cup of tea before I went back to make a work call.

That afternoon, I thought about Eddie a lot. I’d thought he was hot in a kind of ‘DILF’ way the moment I’d first met him, but as a gay guy, you fancy half of the uber-masculine straight guys you meet, but finding out how hung he was and knowing that even now, Eddie and his big cock were in my kitchen took my fancying him a little bit up a notch and made me horny.

Between work calls I played with my dick, thinking about what was in Eddie’s underwear and what he must get up to with the women he met online. Just after 5 pm, Eddie shouted up the stairs that he was leaving, I stuck my head out of the office door and said I’d see him in the morning, trying very hard not to look at his crotch. When he’d gone and I’d heard his van drive away I sat back at my desk, pulling my trousers down and finally giving my cock the attention it had been wanting all day. I shot a big load thinking of Eddie.

A few hours later after I’d finished my 4th microwave dinner of the week and was washing the plate in the bathroom sink, my phone buzzed, it was a message… from Eddie. I dried my hands and sat on the toilet to read it.

“Hi Dave, really sorry about letting you see that pic this afternoon, I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m so embarrassed.”

Ahh, I thought. He is such a sweet guy. I really didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.

“Really Eddie, don’t worry! I’m a gay guy, having dick pics on your phone is an occupational hazard! There’s no need to apologise.”

I hit send, and then, on impulse wrote:

“And you have a great dick” and hit ‘send’

The reply came almost immediately.

A laughing face emoji and then “thanks mate, I’ve been told that actually”

“No worries,” I wrote back. “It’s gone straight in the wank bank.”

He replied with another laughing face emoji and then.

“LOL! I’m honoured! See you tomorrow”

I walked through to the bedroom and started to get ready for bed. I was glad that he didn’t seem to be freaked out by my compliment. Some straight guys would not have enjoyed a gay guy talking about their dick.

Eddie arrived at 8 am as usual the next morning. He let himself in with his key, shouting “Morning Dave” up the stairs as he passed through the hall on the way to the kitchen. When I went downstairs about fifteen minutes later he was kneeling with his back to the door on the bare floorboards of the kitchen, already busy building cupboard carcasses.

“Morning Eddie,” I said cheerily walking past him into the room, stealing a quick look at his muscular arse which was encased in navy blue utility trousers. “Fancy a brew?”

“Yes please mate” he replied, smiling up at me. I noticed that he had a couple of days’ beard growth on his face, which made him look even sexier.

“Coming right up,” I said, heading into the living room. I switched on the kettle and busied myself making two big mugs of tea.

“Have fun last night then?” He shouted through to me. I was confused for a moment.

“Yes, just stayed in, a quiet one” I responded, poking my head out of the door wondering if I’d told him I was going out.

“Oh yes,” he said, smiling sleepily. “A quiet one with your wank bank”

Now it was my turn to look embarrassed. I felt my face get hot.

“Sorry about that Eddie, I shouldn’t have said that” the kettle was boiling, “hang on, let me just finish these”

Grateful for a few seconds to compose myself, I made the tea and walked back into the kitchen, “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable” I said, my face burning again”

“You didn’t mate, to be honest, it made me chuckle” his blue eyes twinkled at me reassuringly, “glad to be of service” he added, grinning. There was a silence as he took a sip of his tea.

“I’ve been told a few times that I have a nice dick, never by a lad though!”

I laughed, feeling somehow nervous and awkward.

“Well, I’m no stranger to a dick pic, and judging by that pic you are certainly blessed.”

He laughed “well cheers, it doesn’t seem to do make it any easier to meet women though, a 51-year-old eve gelen escort divorced builder isn’t what most women are after, they all seem to want bankers and estate agents.”

“It’ll happen, mate, you have a lot to give” I was thinking about what was in his pants but I was careful not to make it sound that way. “You just have to keep trying… And make sure you have plenty of fun along the way.”

“Thanks, mate,” he said, leaning back against the wall and drinking his tea. “You’re right, I’m just not used to being on my own.”

We continued to chat as we finished our drinks and I headed back upstairs for my first call of the day.

About an hour later, I was sitting at my computer taking part in a particularly boring department meeting on zoom. I had my camera turned off but was listening albeit half-heartedly. My phone buzzed on the desk beside me, a message from Eddie.

” Dave, any chance you could take a look at this pic for me and tell me what you think. It’s for one of my dating apps”

“Sure” I replied.

About 10 seconds later the photo came through. A big grin spread over my face. The picture was taken from chest height and had obviously been taken while he was at work. It showed his magnificent cock poking through the fly of a pair of navy blue utility trousers. Below, his big feet in their thick leather boots were also visible. I stared at the photo, my cock hardening involuntarily. Then I started, there was something about the room he was in that I recognised, I zoomed in on the patch of wall that was visible next to his right boot. THAT WAS MY KITCHEN. Eddie was standing there, his cock hard in my kitchen.

A lot of things went through my mind at that moment. But almost immediately another message popped onto my phone’s screen.

“What do you think?”

I took a deep breath and typed “absolutely outstanding, fucking lovely”

Just then, at exactly the wrong moment I heard my name mentioned. My boss was asking me a question in the zoom meeting that I’d forgotten I was still in. I answered it and managed to get away with my mind being somewhere else.

When I’d finished speaking, there was another message.

“You in a meeting? Sorry, didn’t realise. You went quiet so I thought you’d finished.”

“It’s cool, nearly done” I typed back.

The meeting lasted another ten minutes but I can’t remember a word that was said. When it was finally done I opened the door and walked downstairs. My heart was racing. What did this mean? Was he coming on to me, or just letting me appreciate his dick?

When I opened the kitchen door he was bending over a half-finished cabinet.

“Alright?” He said, grinning. His blue eyes twinkled at me.

“Yes mate, loved that pic” I grinned back. Trying to ignore my heart which seemed to be pounding at ten times its normal volume.

“Good,” he said standing upright. He turned around to face me and my eyes travelled up and down his thickset torso. He was wearing a red checked shirt, the top couple of buttons of which were undone revealing a few wisps of dark hair. Inevitably my eyes settled on his crotch. “Oh after a closer look are you?” He said huskily before continuing “be my guest” and stroking the outside of his trousers.

“Really?” I said, not quite believing my luck. He nodded.

I didn’t need telling again. I walked the couple of steps over to him and dropped to my knees in front of him.

“Oh right, it’s like that is it?” He said, watching me.

“It is yes,” I said, before proceeding to press my face into his bulge. His thick working trousers were covered in all manner of paint and plaster but I didn’t care, I could feel his shaft thicken through the thick fabric of his trousers.

“Is this what you want?” he said, as I rubbed my face and nose against him.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes please”

“Take it out,” he said quietly, looking down at me.

I undid his trousers and unzipped his fly before pulling his trousers down to his knees. His big bulge was encased tightly in a pair of white briefs. Within a moment I was rubbing my face on it. Breathing in the smell of him, my mouth watering in anticipation. I took a few seconds to relish this, feeling him stiffen as I gently pressed my face into him, my tongue looking for his cock head beneath the fabric. Then it was the moment I’d been waiting for. I pulled down the briefs and his fat dick sprang out to meet me. To this day, it remains the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen. About 8 inches and thick, the foreskin was fully covering the end. I hadn’t been able to see his balls gaziosmanpaşa escort properly in either picture, but they were large and heavy, in perfect proportion to the big cock swinging above.

“Do you like it, lad? It’s not properly hard yet” he said, smiling down at me as I knelt before him.

“Can I help get it hard?”

“I was hoping you would”

I started on his balls first, my tongue darting out to taste the essence of him. He exhaled deeply, as I rubbed the soft hair of my stubble against the sensitive part of his inner thigh. His cock was growing even as I looked at it, a very fat 9 inches of meat was now in front of me.

“Wow” I grinned up at him.

“All yours” he grinned back. His craggy face looked down at me hungrily.

And then I took him in my mouth. Slowly at first, pulling back the foreskin to reveal his delicate pink mushroom head. My tongue swirled around the tip, tasting him. He sighed again, watching me. Then I took him right down into my throat, his length and girth made it a struggle but I managed it.

“Fuck mate” he breathed. “Nobody’s ever been able to do that before.”

“Good,” I said, sliding his shaft out of my mouth before plunging it back into my throat and rhythmically making his cook fuck my open mouth. “My god” He moaned again, clearly loving every moment. “You’re fucking amazing at that.” He leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes for a moment, groaning with the deep guttural sound of a man in ecstasy.

I know that I’m very talented at giving head, and was determined that I was going to give this straight guy an experience that would really blow his mind. I worked through the different tricks and techniques that my years of being a cock sucker have taught me. Looking up at him to see which he was enjoying most.

“You like my big cock don’t you lad,” he said, looking down at me, watching me at work on him. I groaned in response and then slid him out of my mouth, letting his heavy girth bounce onto my face which was now wet with a mixture of my spit and his precum.

“I fucking love it” I replied before swallowing his length right to the root and hearing him cry out in delight.

“I love it in your throat,” he told me.

“Fuck my face” I demanded.

“Sure” he breathed back, placing his big rough hands on the back of my head before powerfully thrusting his massive tool into my face. I gagged, tears streaming down my face, but loving every moment of kneeling before this sexy, hung, workman with his trousers around his ankles.

After a couple of minutes, he pulled out.

“You’re a fucking machine lad, I’ve never seen anyone be able to take cock like that”

Without speaking, I wiped the spit away from my face with my hand and started to wank his cock with it, using it as lube. Then I started on what I think of as my signature move, the thing that’s guaranteed to drive a guy wild and send him over the edge. It’s a motion that involves both hands and my mouth and after having taught guys to do it on me, I know it’s mind-blowing.

“Holy fuck” he moaned “keep doing that, keep going” I wasn’t about to stop now. I knew he was close and I relished being able to control the pleasure that this sexy straight guy was experiencing.

It took about another minute “I’m gonna cum” he announced. I kept doing what I was doing but slowed it right down, letting his orgasm build and build, giving him a few more moments of precious ecstasy.

“Oh fuck!” he moaned, I felt him stiffen and then he was filling my mouth with his warm salty seed. It seemed to go on forever, as again and again, he shot into my mouth, moaning with a deep animal sound. I continued to work on him until he’s stopped shooting and his breathing was returning to normal then I slid his softening dick out of my mouth and stood up.

“Wow,” he said a little shakily. “I’ve never… it’s never felt like that before. It was…” He breathed in, clearly looking for the words to describe what he’d just experienced, but failing to come up with anything that would do it justice.

“You just had your big dick worshipped Eddie,” I said, wiping the mixture of spit and cum that was all over my face onto the sleeve of my shirt.

He leaned back against the half-built cupboard carcass behind him and exhaled. “I didn’t even know it could feel like that, I was with the ex for 24 years and she was never that keen on blowjobs. She used to say that it made her jaw ache.

“I’m not surprised,” I said thoughtfully, wrapping a hand around his now semi-hard but still huge dick. “You have some girth there, but it just takes practice.”

“I need to find a lass who’s happy to practice then,” He said thoughtfully. “Because I need more of that”

“Well,” I said, grinning at him, “If you look in the right place, you’ll have people queuing up for a go on it.”

“Seriously?” He replied, in disbelief.

“Oh yes,” I said knowingly. “Would you like me to help you?”

His blue eyes sparkled and met mine. “Yes please Dave”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben is taken by Chicago’s best Ch. 01

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It was July of 1975, and I was a horny twenty-five-year-old twink on my very first trip to Chicago.

I’d spent a few days doing the whole touristy, sight-seeing thing. I’d done Michigan Avenue and State Street, Marshall Fields, the Chicago River, the Field Museum, the Art Institute, all this and more. But visiting museums and galleries and gawking at the city’s sights and spectacular architecture wasn’t enough to satisfy me.

After all, my friends back in Toronto had promised that the Windy City was the gay capital of the American mid-west. I’d seen plenty of well-built, corn-fed, manly men to be seen wandering its streets, but hadn’t managed to connect with a single one of them so far.

By Friday night, with just a few days left of my holidays and badly in need of a change of luck, I thought about what one of my friends back in Toronto had told me; no self-respecting leather man should leave Chicago without having visited the “Gold Coast”, the hottest bar in the Midwest.

Hoping the place would live up to its reputation, I spent time getting ready. I cleaned myself out with a drug store enema and pulled on my tightest black t-shirt, jockstrap, some well-worn 501 jeans and black boots, and put a leather arm band around my right bicep.

Eager to get to there but wary of arriving too early, I waited impatiently for midnight to arrive before striding out of my downtown hotel and grabbing a cab uptown. Twenty minutes later I found myself nervously following a pair of hot-looking men dressed in full leathers through the front door of the Holy Grail of leather bars; a place of dark corners, erotic wall murals, studly bartenders and sexy leather-clad customers.

Chicago was suffering through one of its insufferable July heat waves, turning the air in the place heavy, hot and sticky and almost overcoming the overworked air conditioning system. Like everyone around me, I started sweating like a pig and seeing that most of the guys were shirtless, I took mine off, hoping my skinny chest didn’t look too bad in comparison to all the big pectorals on display.

Looking around, there weren’t many other single guys like myself, since the crowd at what was still an early hour consisted mostly of couples or groups of friends gossiping with each other. Feeling that I stood out like a sore thumb, I bought a beer from a bare-chested barman and slunk into a corner to stare at the passing parade.

My friend in Toronto had been absolutely right about the place; there were guys in jockstraps and collars standing submissively at the side of their masters, other men ignoring the heat to wear full leathers and knee length boots, cocksuckers kneeling in dark corners, men submitting eagerly to tit torture; with the scent of poppers and the haze of cigar and cigarette smoke permeating the entire building.

I was certainly no stranger to leather bars, but this was a place of splendour. As I stared around, checking for the guys showing keys or hankies on their left hips, a friendly guy my own age, came over to talk and, as he freely admitted, to check out the competition!

Which made sense since we looked so alike; both of us tall, dark and slim, twenty-something, blue-eyed white boys. My new friend, who told me his name was Eddy, said I had an advantage over him; I was the new guy in town, the new shiny object, the “fresh meat”; unlike Eddy who claimed to have been picked over by half the bar’s regulars!

I might have been “fresh meat”, but I was far from the hottest guy around. In contrast to all the big chested blondes of Scandinavian descent with their pumped-up biceps and pecs and leather-clothed thighs, I weighed in at 160 pounds on a skinny six-foot frame, with wide shoulders tapering down to a thin waist and a plump little bum. The Freddie Mercury-style mustache and dark brown hair on my head, cropped short even in those long-haired days, was the only hair on my body, other than the treasure trail around my groin.

Once Eddy and I started to talk, it was obvious we weren’t rivals; while I was looking out for older, mature, leather men, he was searching for guys close to our own age. Once that was sorted out, he suggested we go find a better corner to stand so he could point out some of his one-night tricks and give me the low-down.

Concentrating on listening to his gossip as we made our way over to an empty corner I didn’t look where I was going and somehow managed to barge into a hot older man. Overcome with embarrassment, I mumbled my apologies, only for him to tell me it was nothing and say hello to Eddy before he walked away.

I felt even more stupid about the encounter when Eddy told me the guy was a leather top who loved having boys suck his cock. I tried to put the guy out of my mind and to concentrate on listening to Eddy’s stories, and as time ticked by, there were more and more mid-western hunks being added to the bar’s delightful mixture, many in full leathers while others were in shorts or jocks, jeans and bare chests, or harnesses and collars.

It was a mostly white crowd, but there was dikmen escort a smattering of super-sexy black guys hanging around, especially in one group standing near Eddy and I. Aware of far better-looking white boys than me in the room, I was very surprised when the youngest and hottest guy in the group seemed to be returning my admiring gaze and began edging towards me through the crowd.

However, once this totally hot guy came close, I realised it was Eddy he was interested in, not me. Understandably, my new friend stopped gossiping with me and turned his sole attention to the handsome stud! And not wanting to get in his star-struck way, I quietly edged away and began a serious search for a special older man of my own for the night.

It had been some older men who’d brought me out at college as both gay and as a BDSM submissive. Partly as a result of that history I’d remained more interested in older guys than younger, however butch and dominating the latter were. I was always careful to see if any older guys were showing any interest in me, which had usually served me well in the years since. Checking out this crowd, I noted quite a few sexy-looking, mature guys, most of whom seemed, sadly, to be coupled up with studs their own age or with boys even younger than me.

Still, with quite a few unattached attractive men in leather or denim hanging around, I cruised around, hoping to catch someone’s eye. And as I did so, there was the same forty-something guy that I’d almost knocked to the floor a few minutes before. Peering through the thick haze of cigarette and cigar smoke, I tried to check him out more thoroughly.

I liked his sexy mouth, his deep-set eyes and prominent nose. He stood about six feet tall, with a big barrel chest and comfortably thick waist, plus a thick mat of black chest hair half hidden by a black leather bar vest. He wore blue jeans under leather chaps and engineer boots; all in all, just my type!

Even though I figured I’d blown my chances with him by my clumsiness, I found him so attractive that I kept staring in his direction while he chatted with some friends. That was, I kept looking until, all of a sudden, he stared right back at me. Having just made the same mistake with Eddy’s hot stud, I glanced behind me, sure he was eyeing someone else. But there was no one else in his line of sight, and when I turned back, his eyes were still locked on mine and he was grinning broadly.

That made me blush at being caught out, and greatly relieved to see him turn his attention back to his friends. He had me frazzled and uncertain; was he interested or was he just playing with me? I went to get another beer and by the time I returned to where I’d been standing before, he’d moved away from his friends and was chatting to a sexy young man in a leather chest harness and bare-assed chaps.

Thinking how stupid I’d been to get my hopes up, I cruised around the bar for a few minutes and ended up squeezing into a spot against the wall, in between a couple of guys already leaning there. Which turned out to be a mistake, since one of them apparently thought I was interested and was making a move on him. Without saying a word, he turned towards me and started feeling me up, rubbing a hand up and down my naked chest, twisting my nipples and fondling my bum.

I was no shrinking violet and I’d let more than my fair share of overbearing bastards take advantage of me over the years, but there was something about this guy that put my back up straight away. I should have liked him; after all he was a well-built guy in his forties, and not bad looking, but still, he somehow managed to piss me off.

So, when, without asking, he popped the buttons on my 501’s and shoved his hand down the back of my jeans to finger my crack, I told him to fuck off and walked away. I walked around for a few minutes to calm down, hoping to find a better alternative, and was surprised to run into the older man I’d just been mooning over. There was the same knowing grin on his face when he spoke.

“Weren’t you hanging around with Eddy just now? Has he got plans for you later? That’s one boy who really gets around.”

Oh fuck, I thought; another stud interested in Eddy, not me. But, with nothing to lose and hoping for the best, I put my cards on the table.

“Oh no, some hot young stud picked him up; he’s much too young for me. I prefer older men myself.”

He smiled at my transparent attempt to get him interested.

“You new in town? I’m a regular here and I haven’t seen you before. You were like a deer caught in the headlights when I was looking at you just now. So, does that mean I’m the kind of older man you prefer?”

Somehow, I managed to garble something to the effect that, yes, Sir, I thought he was very sexy.

He smiled again and asked where I was from, since my “funny accent” meant it couldn’t be anywhere near Chicago.

I began chattering nervously about how I was originally from England but now lived in Toronto and how much elvankent escort I loved what I’d seen of Chicago so far. But while I was telling him my name was Ben Davis and how hot I thought the Gold Coast was, it became obvious that he’d stopped paying attention to my gabbling. Instead, he edged forward and leant into me with all his weight, pressing me up against the wall.

Just a few minutes before I’d stomped off like a princess at having someone put his hands on me, but now, I stood stock still, loving the feeling of this guy’s hands wandering over my chest and stomach, tweaking my nipples and reaching down between my legs to feel my dick.

“Geez, you’re one scrawny punk; I can count every one of your goddam ribs. There’s not an ounce of fat on you.”

“Yea, well, I hate being this skinny, but however much I eat, I don’t seem to put on any weight.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I like my boys tall, skinny and smooth. Twenty years ago, when I was in the service, I was a scrawny beanpole just like you.”

His hand, which had been gently rubbing my stomach moved up to squeeze my nipples; starting out soft but getting harder and harder once he saw how excited it got me. Keeping me pinned against the wall by the weight of his body, he played with mine in a mutual silence punctuated only by my quiet moaning and his heavy breathing.

“Christ, you blush like a choirboy caught reading Playboy! Tell me kid, are you just here slumming it on your vacation, and you’d usually be disco dancing with a bunch of your sissy friends back home? Or do you want the real thing with a real man?”

“Yes, I do sir, I’ve been with real men before and I know I can take it.”

“Well, from the way your dick’s throbbing, you might be telling the truth.”

Bringing his hand up to my mouth, he pushed his fingers between my lips and sawed them back and forth, right to the back of my throat, testing my gag reflex, making me tear up and forcing me to close my eyes. When he eventually withdrew his fingers, I guessed I’d passed the first test, since he leant in even closer and whispered in my ear.

“So, you when were staring at me just now, you probably saw the handcuffs, but did you notice what was in my left back pocket?”

“Yes, sir, it was a yellow hanky. Piss is one of my favourite tastes. I’d love to taste yours, sir.”

“That’s good to hear, but in the meantime, I want that tongue of yours working on something else.”

He held one arm up above his head and I immediately pressed my face into his sweaty armpit, licking it clean while murmuring with delight as my tongue slid up and down the hairy surface. Once I switched over to do the same job on his other one, he held my chin in his hand and grinned.

“Not bad, now get down and show me how good you are at sucking cock.”

He pushed down on my shoulders and I slid down the wall behind me to my knees while he was pulling his dick out of his pants. I started on his big hairy balls, giving them a quick once-over before gently licking the underside of his cock as it bobbed up and down in front of my face. But soon he sped things up by grabbing hold of my head, shoving his good-sized prong all the way to the back of my throat and keeping it there.

Now he’d established who was boss, I was allowed to work more methodically and rhythmically, swallowing his cock to the back of my throat then periodically pulling off to lick his big low hanging balls. Before long I could taste a steady stream of precum leaking down my throat, warning me that he might be near to popping.

But anyone could have told you that cumming this early in the evening was not on the cards, so it came as no surprise when he pulled out, patted me on the head and told me to get up.

As I tried to rise to my feet, I felt a heavy hand pressing down on my shoulder and heard the voice of the guy I’d got away from just a few minutes before.

“How about letting me get some of that? This punk ticked me off just now, but maybe he can say sorry with his mouth? If you’re finished with him, how about giving me a turn, OK?”

“Well, no I don’t think so, man. I’ve got plans for him and they don’t include whoring him out to anyone walking by.”

The prick snorted with angry disgust and strode away, leaving me wondering what plans “My guy” had for me. But when I tried to rise up off my knees, he put a hand on my shoulder and shoved his cock back in in my face.

Thinking I was supposed to get sucking again, I eagerly put my lips around it, and was surprised instead by a mouthful of hot beery piss. Aware he was testing me, I swallowed as fast as I could, and managed to keep up with the stream until it slowed to a trickle and he pulled out to spray the last few drops on my face.

He leant down towards me, staring into my eyes while gripping my chin in his hand.

“You look like a fucking choir boy, but you act like a perverted son of a bitch. Listen, kid, if you want to get tied up, pissed on, have your arse beaten emek escort and suck my dick till your throat is raw, then come with me. Make your mind up, I’m not gonna wait all night.”

He turned on his heel and without bothering to check that I was following, pushed his way through the packed crowd, getting halfway across the bar before turning to stare into my eyes.

Seeing that I was following close behind, he turned around without another word and headed towards the exit. But as he did so, a hand came out of the crowd and grabbed his shoulder. It was one of the guys I’d seen him talking to earlier; a stocky, dark-complexioned, heavily bearded man, dressed from head to toe in black leather.

“What the fuck, Henry, leaving already, you old cunt? You get all dressed up and drive down here and then you fuck off an hour after you arrive? What’s your hurry? Why not hang around for a while; this skinny punk can wait. Put him on hold and stay for another beer. If he fucks off on you there’s lots more where he came from.”

My Sir snorted with laughter at the guy, who was obviously an old friend.

“Yeah, sure, that’s your motto; stick around waiting for that one perfect hot guy who you never actually seem to find. And later, when this skinny punk is sucking my cock and soaking in my piss, you’ll be sitting on your couch with nothing but a dirty mag in one hand and your dick in the other.”

His friend laughed at what was obviously a regular joke between them.

“All right, Henry, I guess this one’s a bit cuter than the losers I’ve been taking home lately. Go on, buzz off, you have my permission to do the dirty with skinny pants here.”

Henry snorted with pretend annoyance and told me to go wait near the exit while he spoke to his friend. From the way they were grinning and laughing as they stared at me, I figured their conversation was mostly about what would happen to me when he got me home!

As I stood waiting, I began to wonder if I was being stupid and careless about possible danger. Everything had moved very fast and after just a few minutes I was putting myself in this stranger’s hands and letting myself in for God knows what.

I wasn’t a delicate creature who’d never been out on the prowl and I regularly let myself get tied up and worked over. But when I sucked and got fucked, I usually had some idea who the guy was or knew someone who could vouch for him. But this was a strange city and a total stranger, whose name I’d learnt only a minute before!

While the rational side of my brain was telling me to be careful, the taste of dick and piss on my tongue and the overpowering scent of leather, sweat, testosterone and poppers in the air told me a different story. And of course, that story and the effect it had on my dick easily won the argument.

I followed him out of the bar into the hot and muggy Chicago night, and trotted submissively behind him for a few minutes, until he turned a corner onto a dark side street where he’d parked a big old Lincoln sedan.

Once we were both sitting on its front bench seat, he ordered turn my back towards him and put my wrists together behind me. Aware that this was my last chance to turn back, I didn’t hesitate to obey him and was rewarded with the feeling of cuffs being snapped on my wrists.

A moment later, when he undid the buttons of his jeans and fished out his half-hard cock, I didn’t wait for his permission before I lunged across the seat and swallowed his hardening dick back down my throat.

He kept hold of my ears with an iron grip while I sucked and licked him; but then just like he had back in the bar, pulled out before he got too excited and stuffed himself back in his pants.

He pushed me back up to a sitting position, opened the glove box and picked out a pair of small but exquisitely painful tit clamps. I sat back enjoying the taste of a hot man’s cock on my tongue and the lingering memory of piss, with my wrists cuffed behind me and clamps on my tits; this was all I could have wished for more when I set out that evening for the Gold Coast. He held my chin in his hand and stared into my eyes.

“Listen to me. You seem like a smart kid and as long as you behave yourself, I’ll make sure you have a good time. But I warn you, this’ll be a long night. I work midnight shifts from Sundays to Thursdays and don’t bother changing my schedule on the weekend. So, this is daytime for me, which means you’ll be awake for hours yet.”

He started the car and drove off, with me staring out of the window at a city I didn’t know, wondering if I’d been right to trust him. I was in handcuffs, being driven somewhere by a man I’d just met, with no idea what he was going to do to me, other than it was going to take all night! A sensible young man should have been frightened, but this horny young slut couldn’t wait for it all to happen.

After fifteen minutes or so, we arrived in a residential neighbourhood, and turned down a short dead-end street, ending up at the last house on the block. He parked the car beside an attached garage and turned to unclip the tit clamps and stow them away, while I sat grunting with pain as the blood came rushing back. He got out, pulled me from the car and propelled me through a small side door into what had once been a garage but was now a workshop, furnished sparsely with tool cabinets, a work bench, an old fridge, and a couple of ratty old armchairs.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Enticed Pt. 13 – Holiday Gaiety

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is part thirteen of my adventures in the early 90s with a gay man about 15 years older than me who saw me as a near-reincarnation of his first boyfriend. Check my post history for earlier installments of the story of an older man’s toy.

A couple weeks after I’d learned of the heartbreaking story of my private client Johnny committing suicide out of despair over his AIDS diagnosis, I decided to do a show just for him.

Johnny had requested a private audience with me wearing normal street clothes — jeans and a button-down. He wanted a regular, normal “date” that ended in a mutual masturbation session — no touching, just sensual watching, so to speak. I gave him a sensual strip and the masturbation he was looking for. But, he was the one who really gave me a show of how to direct an audience and a lesson in sensual control over your lover.

In his honor, I walked through the audience in a pair of jeans and a button-down, the same outfit I’d worn for him. To somewhat moody music, I began a slow striptease, releasing each button in time to a mournful tune without really engaging the audience.

My shirt came off slowly and was tossed off-stage to Blaise before I popped the button on my Levi’s and slowly lowered the zipper. My black contouring thong was the only concession I made to “the show” and allowed my growing cock to push forward, nearly escaping the spandex cage as I slid the denim down my thighs.

The expectant audience was on pins and needles as I disrobed before them, never having seen this performance. Once I was completely naked, I began a slow stroke and caress of my cock and balls sometimes closing my eyes in both ecstasy and mourning for Johnny.

I leaned back on an arm of the chair I’d placed on stage and found myself rocking back and forth as my entire body responded to the sensations my hand elicited in my meat, stroking slowly, sensually up and down, my cock skin pushing and pulling up and down. I was leaning on the same chair I’d used for Johnny’s private audience and had one foot propped on the seat to give my audience the same view I’d given Johnny. I gripped the back of the chair tightly with one hand as the other worked my cock to a meaningful crescendo, much as I’d done for Johnny a few weeks earlier.

I slowly stroked myself for minutes on end, rocking and moaning loudly — just as I’d done for Johnny. As I felt myself getting close to completion, I opened my eyes and immediately found Samuel and Evan just off to my right in the front row. I called them up in a breathy voice and had them kneel in front of me. The speed of my strokes increased along with my breathing and moaning. In a few seconds I was spraying showers of white cum on their waiting faces. As it hit them they both opened their mouths to catch as much of my sperm as they could.

Before I was empty, the room was on its feet, applauding and screaming. It was the best response I’d ever received. It took me a moment to respond as I was in such a mournful, erotic trance cumming so powerfully for Johnny. I felt almost drunk with passion and grief. A single tear ran down my face as I struggled to catch my breath.

Caught up in the moment, Samuel and Evan kissed and licked my cum off each other’s faces to the delight of the crowd. I just reached down and rubbed their heads like good pets. Then, I pushed my dick between their faces and let them clean me off with their tongues. My audience loved that even more than seeing me cum on their faces. Cash began falling like rain.

After the show, I came out in the same one-size-too-small bikini underwear I’d worn for Johnny and a jean jacket with the sleeves rolled up I thought he would have appreciated. I flirted heavily with the regulars as I walked through the crowd. Some of them took the opportunity to slide a hand along my chest through the open jean jacket. I took the same opportunity to squeeze their crotches. If they could touch me, I could touch them. And, they loved it. Other men patted my barely covered ass. By the time I made it to Blaise, I had filled my bikini with cash and transferred it to one of the pockets in the jacket.

Several men expressed their appreciation for the more subtle show and down-to-earth after-party outfit. I admitted both were closer to my real style.

“This is actually the underwear I wear every day,” I told them. Their intrigue was obvious. My audience was beginning to seem more turned on by my real life than the stage persona. Of course, they were responding only to what I let them think was the real me.

I made a show of caressing Blaise’s cock through his slacks when I sat beside him on the couch. I noticed several men nearby bite or lick their lips. I’d found that gay men were terrible at hiding their horniness.

I motioned for a couple of the regulars to lean down so I could whisper in their ears and told them that I also offer private performances if they were interested. I slyly slipped a business card into each of their hands that included only the Greek letters cebeci escort for alpha and beta and Blaise’s phone number.

Sam and Evan both came up to us after cleaning themselves off and thanked me for including them in the show.

“That was so amazing,” they both exclaimed. “We’re still so horny now.”

“We might need to leave soon,” Evan said, excitedly.

“Go to the master bedroom,” I instructed them. “Make the most of what you’re feeling now and the freedom you have. — Just make sure you clean up after yourselves. I have to sleep in there”

Without a word they both turned to walk away.

“But,” I caught them. “If you think you need some help, come get me. I’m always available for you two.”

I noticed a couple intrigued looks from men nearby who overheard that. That should reinforce the “Gay Sensei” mythos.

A couple minutes later, I rose and told Blaise I’d be right back. He winked, knowing where I was going.

I headed straight for the bedroom and found Sam and Evan naked in a tight, deep-throated 69 on the floor. They stopped when I opened the door. The expression on both their faces went from surprise to welcome longing when they saw it was me.

I dropped to my knees beside them and pounced first on to Sam’s straining cock and then alternated to Evan’s. In a second, they both adjusted their positions to push their stiff cocks together between their spread legs. I dropped my face between them, squeezed both their heads together and licked around them.

I pushed as much of their combined cocks into my mouth as I could and fucked and sucked them together as deeply as I could until I felt them both pulsing and throbbing together almost in perfect unison. I lifted up and began jacking them together allowing their shafts and heads to slip side to side so they were doing some of their own masturbating.

Sam’s white goo pulsed out first. Evan followed him in a couple seconds. I let their cum slip down over my fingers and between their slippery dicks.

I milked them until they had nothing left to give. When I let go they weren’t even dribbling anymore. There was a heavy wet spot on Evan’s jeans under them on the floor.

Without a word I rose and went to my bathroom to clean up. When I walked back through to leave the bedroom, they had resumed their 69 position to clean each other off.

When I returned to Blaise’s side I got everyone’s attention.

“As you all know, the holidays are coming up,” I said. “And, I’m wondering if there will be enough of you available to come to a show on the next scheduled date of the 22nd. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of family plans. Or, on the flip side, there’s no reason for me to schedule something if no one’s going to be here.

“So, I wanted to leave the decision up to my boys. Do you want a show the weekend before Christmas? If not, the next one would be a full month from now on January fifth.”

Not quite as one, but certainly unanimously, the group requested a Christmas show. Some said they couldn’t go a full month without seeing me. A couple even announced they planned on bringing certain family members to see me.

“Then, it’s settled,” I replied. “I’ll see you all in two weeks.”

That Monday, Blaise received two calls for private shows requesting almost exactly what I’d done Saturday — regular clothes with a “normal” strip and masturbation show. I already had one private show booked for that week. But, Blaise booked another and then two more for the following week based on Saturday’s “street clothes” show.

One of those shows was going to be a Christmas gift from an audience member to a new acquaintance of his who he wanted to introduce to my particular form of entertainment. It was the first time anyone had asked for a two-person private show. In a way, I liked the idea. There was an obvious difference between performing for one man and forty. A single audience member was clearly more intimate and I could tailor my performance to their desires. But, two “watchers” somehow seemed even more intimate. I knew I would be sharing myself with two men who already were sharing themselves. They were inviting me into their intimate relationship if only for a brief moment. It was both an honor and a turn-on.

On Tuesday of that week I did a private deep-throat show in my white costume by request. That Thursday, though, I was allowing Malcolm to unbutton my blue button-down before I slowly pushed my Levi’s down and jacked off for him — my first “street-clothes” private since Johnny’s.

The Tuesday after that, I greeted Dave, a regular attendee, and his new friend, Sean. Dave was a few years older than me, maybe 30 or so. Sean, however, probably was about my age or a couple years younger.

Where Dave was dressed for the office — probably having just left work, Sean was wearing the latest, hippest fashions straight off of MTV and every bit as obviously gay as any pink boa. From what Blaise had explained, çukurambar escort Sean was a fairly recent “convert” and probably Dave’s new toy.

Dave had asked that I start off in jeans, a button-down and sweater. After I got them settled and drinking, I pulled the sweater off quickly and began unbuttoning my shirt. They both followed my hands intently.

Once my shirt was open I pushed a hand down into my jeans and groped my cock and balls.

Dave bit his lip. But, Sean was much more demonstrative with a very feminine “Oooh” and faux-demure neck movement.

They both had a hand on each others’ thigh as I unbuttoned my Levi’s.

“Feel free to enjoy each other as you watch me,” I suggested, eyeing their hands.

Dave blushed a bit and Sean immediately slid his hand to Dave’s tightening crotch.

I pushed my jeans down just enough to free my bikini-clad cock and balls. They both gasped a bit. Sean let loose another overt “Oooh.” I ignored it as I rubbed, groped, and squeezed myself through the cotton.

They both knew nothing of the world beyond my groin and hand.

As they watched me bring myself to a raging hard-on within – and eventually escaping – my small triangle of underwear, Dave and Sean began squeezing and rubbing each others’ now tight packages and were openly breathing more heavily.

Sean took the initiative and unzipped both his and Dave’s pants and both of their hands dove in. They stopped only long enough to push their pants down just enough to allow their hard cocks to pop out.

Dave had a mushroom head atop a five-inch thickish shaft that disappeared in a dense black bush. Sean was a bit longer, but thin with a head that was barely differentiated from his shaft. He appeared to be nearly hairless.

As soon as their dicks were out they began stroking each other vigorously. I pointed out the lube on the tables beside their chairs. In a couple seconds they both were slick and shiny.

Meanwhile, I had lubed up and was slowly, sensuously stroking my cock for them, giving them an audible performance with plenty of heavy breathing and low moans.

It took only a minute or two for Sean’s stomach to tighten up and his breathing to become gasps. Dave sped up his tight strokes and soon covered his hand with Sean’s cum.

As he recovered Sean began mimicking my technique of rolling his palm over Dave’s swollen meat and in a minute Dave was humping into his friend’s hand and exploded onto his thighs and the young fist wrapped around him.

I held out a few minutes longer. I had to make sure I gave them a good show whether they were finished or not. I stroked my shaft, rolled my head and squeezed my balls until I could feel my pleasure rising. I always make sure it’s obvious to my audience that I’m actually pleasuring myself and really about to cum. I always exaggerate. But, it’s never fake. Dave and Sean were getting a real live sex show to be sure.

As my abs and ass began contracting, Sean leaned forward placing his face just a foot or so from the tip of my throbbing cock.

“I want it!” he exclaimed. “Let me taste it! Cover me with your cum!”

A couple strokes later, I blew a heavy load into the air between us and every small drop and large wad landed squarely on Sean’s face or in his open mouth.

As I slowed to a breathy dribble, Dave leaned in and began licking and kissing my thick cum off his lover’s face. In a second, they were wrapped in an intense, passionate session of kissing and licking. They both were spent already, so I knew I wouldn’t have to break up anything too serious.

I cleaned myself up and pulled up my underwear and jeans while they made out.

Eventually, they calmed down and got dressed. Before they left Dave gave me a $200 tip.

“A hundred for each of us,” he said. “That was amazing and worth every dime!”

As soon as they left I jumped in my Jeep and headed to Blaise’s. I walked into the living room, surprising him so much he didn’t even get up. He knew I had a private show that night and didn’t expect to see me.

I walked in and, without a word, dropped to my knees, freed his cock and began licking, stroking and caressing it until it was hard and he was breathless.

A couple minutes later I had a throatful of his warm sperm. I licked him clean, rose from the floor and headed for the master bathroom to shower.

Fifteen minutes later, I was beside him on the couch in a pair of lounge pants and a shirt. I had bought a duplicate set of each of my costumes so I could keep one at Blaise’s house. I didn’t offer an explanation and he didn’t request one. But, his hand was on my cock until it was stiff and aching for release.

My next show — the audience-requested Christmas show — opened with me walking through the crowd in my red pants and shirt with a Santa hat on and “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” playing. I carried a sack full of goodies and dropped it beside my chair. I’d decorated demetevler escort a small, artificial tree on stage and noticed several more packages were under it than I remembered.

Blaise leaned close and whispered that several of my audience members had brought gifts for me. I felt my face redden. It was touching. I hadn’t expected gifts. But, I certainly had gifts for them. I wanted to show them how much I appreciated their support over the last six months of stripping, jacking, and butt-fucking.

“Well, it looks like some of you have been overly generous,” I started. “I also have some goodies for each of you. I wonder — should we do gifts now? Or, should I do the show first?

“What do you think?”

There was a sudden cacophony of “Strip!,” “Let’s see it!,” “Give us the show!”

Apparently, they wanted my pound of flesh before we got to the gifts.

“That settles it,” I responded. “But, first, I want to direct your attention to the decorations around the room tonight. There’s a generous amount of mistletoe spread around the room. I expect it to be well-used. And, remember the old song — love the one you’re with.

“I also have several nutcrackers around the room. Please, do not use them. I don’t want any injuries to important parts here tonight.”

There was a wave of chuckles and laughs as Blaise started my usual background music and I began my slow, sensual striptease that didn’t tease all that much. My costume was festive from my red lounge pants to my red thong to the red jewel in my butt plug. The Santa hat stayed on, though.

Once I was down to my thong, Blaise appeared with an appropriately colored double-ended dildo the same size as Double-Date Danny. It was candy striped like a long, floppy candy cane.

I worked it in and out slowly, sensually, making eye contact with several members of the audience the entire time I pushed it deeper and deeper through my throat and into my chest.

When I got to the part of my routine where Blaise fucked my mouth and throat with the dildo I stopped and pulled it out.

“Now, we come to a part of the show where one lucky audience member gets the first gift of the night,” I announced, wiping my throat and chest off with a towel. “Each of you should have been given a ticket when you arrived tonight. Does everyone have a ticket with a number on it? If you don’t have one, let’s hear it. I want everyone to have an equal chance.”

There were some nods around the room, but no negative responses.

“OK,” I said. “So, now Blaise is going to bring up a hat and I’m going to draw one number. And, that one lucky, good little boy gets to come up here and fuck my throat with this dildo just like Blaise usually does.”

There were a couple gasps and some murmuring around the room. I knew this would get their attention. The hat in question was from Phil’s lawn equipment company.

I called out a number and there was an audible gasp from the back of the room.

“That’s me!”

A 50-something man in Polo and Calvin Klein made his way up to the front. He was graying, but showed few other signs of his age. He was obviously fit and attractive, and hid his sexual proclivity well. I assumed only his lovers knew for sure which way he swung — a man after my own heart.

He told me his name was Keith and had been a regular since September.

“Well, then, Keith,” I said. “You know what happens next. Are you ready to fuck my throat with a giant candy cane?”

He didn’t say anything, but I handed him my dildo anyway.

I stretched my throat toward the ceiling and directed Keith to insert the dildo slowly. He obviously was nervous and stood apart. I assured him it was OK, I wouldn’t let him hurt me.

He seemed to relax a little and started lowering the latex into my mouth. Once it entered my throat, I grabbed his hips and pulled him closer. I grabbed his wrist and guided him farther down and then up and down to begin a slow stroke into and out of my throat and chest.

Once he settled on a consistent rhythm, I let go of his arm for a minute. Then, unexpectedly, I reached out and grabbed his growing cock. I could feel it was about half-hard and of a reasonable size, maybe six inches even before being fully erect.

He jumped when I touched him. The audience gasped and oohed and aahed. I squeezed and caressed and stroked Keith to a full, obvious erection.

I looked him in the eye and gave him a questioning look as I grabbed his zipper with my other hand. He nodded vigorously with wide eyes.

I unzipped his khakis and released a thick bulge in his white briefs. The audience again gasped and expressed jealous and envious exclamations.

I pulled his stiff meat out of his underwear and began stroking and squeezing it in much the same manner as I did Blaise’s cock. I worked him carefully, lovingly, as if every sensation mattered. All the while he was pumping long latex in and out of my throat. He’d slowed down a bit since I unzipped his pants.

I looked up at his face and his eyes were glazed over. A second later, as I rolled my palm over his already throbbing dick, his eyes closed and I felt him begin to cum. I pulled him close with his cock as a handle and let him spew his thick jizz onto my bare chest.

There was a loud, audible gasp from everyone in the room as the first few wads of hot cum landed on my hairy chest.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Exploration Season

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I met Tanner on a mining exploration team in northern British Columbia. This was summer of 2015, and I’d been working in the field for a few seasons to pay down my student loans. Mining exploration had some major perks; it paid well, got me in insanely good shape, and kept me outdoors for months at a time. And, yeah, I met some cool guys along the way. Tanner and I were both working for this exploration company called Helix. Most of the other guys on the crew were older, late thirties. I was twenty-four, Tanner was eighteen, in his first season, trying to prove himself. I guess you could say he did.

Helix had set up a camp in the shadow of a big mountain some hundred miles north of Prince George by bush plane. The camp had maybe ten wall tents, four guys to a tent. There was a bigger plywood kitchen and mess hall, a shack for the geological samples, a small shower room with laundry, and four outhouses in a row up the hill. Tanner was the youngest in our tent, but tall, strong and lean, sort of dumb or at trying to be macho. He had dirty blond hair, buzzed short, big square jaw, like a farmer stereotype. The other two guys, Lee, and Matthew, they were older, lifers in the industry, their hands all scared up from old axe wounds and chainsaw near-misses. I was not a lifer yet and would soon be done my degree in engineering; this lifestyle kept me healthy, but it was hard, and I wouldn’t do it forever. I liked working with helicopters and being in the middle of nowhere where I couldn’t spend any of my money.

Helix had brought in a kind of portable satellite dish that could pick up some of Musk’s new Starlink service, so there was internet in the camp at least, and I even being there only day, I knew most of the guys were probably looking at porn in the outhouses, or in the small plastic shower stall. After dinner, I’d taken a shower in the small shack and seen obvious ropes of cum on the wall, a big load, thick and white and stretched almost the floor. No women in the camp so far, though sometimes some visiting geology students were women. Lots of tension, in other words. Anger sometimes. A few fights.

Tanner’s wooden cot sat across from mine in the tent, both of us near the door. The first night after flying in, we’d all gotten ready for bed, the older guys staying in their clothes and curling into their sleeping bags without a sound. Wind through the valley made a soft rustling noise against the tent’s canvas, and I’d always found it relaxing. Out here, nights were quiet. I brushed my teeth and spit off the tent’s stoop, then gargled water from a canteen and spit again. I sat on my cot and took out my phone to relax a bit before sleep.

Across from me, Tanner stripped to a pair of tight trunk briefs, and started organizing a foldable shelf he’d hung off a nail. The briefs didn’t leave much to the imagination. His dick was pretty big, soft, curled over in the briefs like an animal, the head visible at one end against his leg. Straight boys were always the worst.

I lay down on my side, still on my phone, and stealthily looked at dick pics I’d saved from hookups over the years. I’d been hornier for guys the last few months, even when I’d still been with Christina. I only dated women, but I was happy to swing both ways when the time called for it.

“Night,” said Tanner, kicking his legs up onto his bed and pulling his puffy down sleeping bag over himself.

“Yeah, you too,” I said, my eyes on the phone, the day’s labor in my muscle like syrup. Tomorrow we’d be hiking eight, nine hours, a big day.

We got up at 5:30am and changed into our Carhartt’s and layered fleeces and sweat wicking under shirts. Guys out here came prepared. You didn’t want to get caught out in the mountains. We spent about ten hours each day out there, mostly alone, and then got collected by the helicopter around dinner time for the flight back. A couple times last season, the helicopter had broken down and I’d had to spend the night out in the wilderness, so I always packed more than I needed these days.

Tanner was new, so he’d be working with me the first month or so, to learn about staking claims, learn how to take of himself in the wilderness. Our main job was putting wooden posts in the ground every five hundred yards at a specific location on the GPS to mark where Helix could drill for core samples and see what kind of metals were in this region.

Tanner ate four or fives eggs for breakfast, sausages, a plate of broccoli. Oh to be young again. I had some muesli and a cliff bar.

Next, we gathered up our packs, axes, shotguns, and went to the landing pad as the pilot spun up the rotors and got everything going. Tanner hadn’t been in a helicopter before. He looks excited. It would pass. All he had to remember was not to walk uphill into the rotors or downhill into the tail. Move slow. Transfer your weight. Basic shit to be safe.

The grid we were working on today was about twenty miles from camp through a waffle board of green hills and low mountains, their sides dusted in loose shale. We saw groups of caribou as beşevler escort we flew over, their hair mottled and falling away with the transition between seasons. Nice country out there. Not to steep. I’d seen worse. Once we got to our drop point, the pilot landed in a valley, and me and Tanner hoped out and kneeled until the bird lifted off fully and buzzed away. Cool wind coursed down the slope to our right, flipping our jacket collars around.

“It’s loud,” said Tanner.

“Yep. And out here, it’s quiet.”

We stood silently for a minute in the great emptiness. Not a single sound. Not a bird. Not a tumbling pebble. This was actual wilderness. No one here maybe ever. No human in the history of the world. I looked around for bears, as I always did right when I landed at a new spot. Just to be safe. I took out my water and drank a swig of it, then pulled out the GPS so check our location relative to the line we needed to hike along.

Tanner stood against a boulder the size of car, a smirk on his face. “You know, your glasses are reflective, right?

“What?”

What?

“Like, they reflect your phone screen.”

Oh shit. He’d seen me looking at the dick pics.

“That was just a joke my buddy sent.”

Tanner nodded. “Oh yeah? Okay.”

“I’ll take them off next time.”

“It’s not a big deal, man. It’s 2021.”

Looking at him, it almost seemed like the crotch of his heavy workpants had a bigger bulge than when we’d landed. He was still leaning against the big stone, the smirk still on his face. Young guy, probably cool in his high school, king of the world. Maybe more perceptive than I’d given him credit for, seeing that reflection.

“It’s nothing man,” he looked out over the valley, his jaw rippling, just bored in this fucking camp. No girls.”

“Yeah, no girls is rough.”

“I had to jerk off in the shower.”

I thought back to the previous night, the cum on the shower wall.

“Next time clean it up.”

He blanched. Looked away. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s not a big deal. Just clean it up next time.”

“I thought I got it all. And I well, uh…” he trailed off.

“You what?”

“Nothing, man, nothing.” There was definitely a bulge now, down to his left leg, moving slightly.

“No, I want to know,” I walked a few feet closer, now close enough to see the pulse in his neck.

“I just…cum a lot, I thought I cleaned it all.”

“Really? That looked like a full load on the wall still, Jesus.”

“Yeah, if I don’t cum every day, it’s even more.” He looked proud, then embarrassed again, not used to talking about sex.

We stood like this for another ten seconds. He was definitely getting hard. The bar of his dick stood out from his work pants. He looked down, then up to me. Awkward.

“You gonna be okay hiking like that?” I asked, trying to keep it lighthearted.

“Probably, yeah.” He rearranged himself with his hand. That thing looked big and thick.

“Well, uh, If you want to, you know,” I indicated with my head.

“If I want to what?”

I worried he might try to fight me or ridicule me. But I wanted it, bad. Working all summer with no other guys who were into it hadn’t been easy.

“I’ll help you out with it, if you want.”

“Help me out.” He seemed to be repeating this to himself in his head. “I’m not gay.”

“I know. I’m just saying I could help you with it. Since there are no girls around.”

“Like, your hand?”

I waited a moment. “Can I use my mouth? It’s faster and feels better, right?”

I saw his cock jump through his pants at the word “mouth.”

The sun came out just then, cooking on the bag of my neck. Everything smelled like stone and fresh grass. I walked over to where he leaned against the rock and got on my knees in front of him. He was looking nervous, face half red, dick like a flashlight in his pocket. I put a hand on the button at the top of his pants. “Is this okay?” I asked.

He nodded but didn’t say anything, looking around like we’d get caught out here.

“We’re just buddies, right?” I said. “I’m just helping you out.”

I flipped the button. He had nice abs, a thin line of hair traced from his white briefs to his belly button. I tugged the workpants down slow, they slid off his creamy white hips. It took some wiggling to get them over his rigid dick, the thing almost busting out of his underwear, but I eventually got the pants down around his ankles and work boots. A big wet patch had spread from his dick’s head over the left side of his briefs. Lots of pre cum. Young guys always leaked like crazy. I put my fingers in the band of his briefs and pulled them down too. His dick sprang out and landed hot on my cheek. The skin so rigid and smooth. “This okay?” I asked again? His mouth hung open, but he just nodded, faster now. I had him. With a guy, I always knew when he’d passed the point of needing to cum, everything else secondary to cumming. He needed it now. I moved a bit closer and wrapped my fingers büyükesat escort around his thick shaft. Uncut, maybe seven inches, so smooth. A nice dick, a carving. He kept his pubes trimmed short. Pre cum beaded and his slit and spilled out into a long clear string. I caught the string in my mouth and swallowed it. Sweet, warm.

“Don’t worry about cumming,” I said. “Cum in my mouth. I’ll swallow.”

He nodded, more pre cum forming at the tip. This wouldn’t last long.

I brought the flared and swollen head of him to my tongue and licked off more precum. So much of it. Keeping my lips tight, I closed them over the tip of his dick and flicking with my tongue, sucked him into my mouth, slow. A hoarse sound ripped out of Tanner’s throat as my tongue settled against the underside of his head and began to stroke it. How long has it been since he’d gotten sucked? Pulses raced up his shaft under my hand. I waited a moment. I don’t know when he’d done it, but he had a hand on the back of my head, its pressure rising by the second, guiding me down the shaft. I took in more and more of him, then felt his pelvis bump against my lips. With some effort I got my tongue onto his balls and licked up and down as he flexed in my throat.

“Uhhhhhhh,” Tanner let this sound roll out of him, the echo over the mountains coming back a few seconds later. Guys always made this noise when I did that.

He started to thrust in and out of my mouth while holding onto my hair, shallow thrusts, keeping almost his whole cock in my throat. I tried to relax my neck and face muscles and let him do what he wanted. He got a bit more bold and went faster, harder, but he didn’t have a chance. His fingers twined tight in my hair and when I looked up his head was thrown back at the sky, one long groan coming from him, uhhhhh, uhhhhh, uhhhh, each grunt bleeding into the next, and even if I would have liked to edge him a bit longer, I knew I couldn’t stop him now. With one last big thrust, both hands locked onto the sides of my head, he grunted and his dick bucked in my mouth. First came the salt taste of that last bit of precum before a guy cums. I backed off as much as his grip would let me. His cock bucked again. My tongue on the underside of his shaft felt the pulses first, then the big first rope of cum splashed the back of my mouth. He let loose a long moan as a second rope coated my tongue. Then a third. His dick bucked up and down against the roof of my mouth as he unloaded. What a load. He came and came, and I made a little bowl out of my tongue and collected what I could before being forced to swallow. I swallowed two more mouthfuls, the taste salty and warm, thick, full of life. Tanner had a hand still on my head as his dick began to soften a bit in my mouth, cum still leaking from it. I ran a hand up the shaft to milk the dregs onto my tongue. He was now looking down, exhausted, a big smile on his face.

I swallowed the last of him and got up, the strong taste of him still in my mouth, the waxy feeling in my throat. “Any time out here, I got you, okay?”

* * * * *

Tanner came in my mouth twice more that day. He was eighteen, I guess, and an eighteen-year-old with free access to a warm mouth is a dangerous thing. The first was when we stopped for lunch in a ravine by a crystal-clear creek. I was sitting on a patch of grass unpacking my sandwich, when he came over, dick imprint clear through his work pants. He gave me a look, almost demanding, and undid his belt right over where I sat, one of his strong hands on my head. I didn’t say anything just swivelled onto my knees and took his half hard dick in my mouth. We’d been hiking hard, and he tasted like sweat and salt and old dried precum from the blowjob at the landing site earlier. He got fully hard fast, not trying to be quiet anymore, not nervous, looking down at me, grunting as he thrust into my mouth. I put a hand on his balls and tickled his taint, his dick bucking harder and harder. Soon, I felt his thighs contract as his hand twined through my hair, one last big pulse of his dick, him saying “take it, bro,” and he unloaded across my tongue, his cum pooling before each swallow. He came a good five spurts, then softened and withdrew. I finished swallowing and went back to my sandwich. Near the end of the day, he face fucked me against a tree, my head with nowhere to go, just a hole for him, until he gasped and came right into my throat. Not sure how much cum he even had left by then, but I took it. This time he actually thanked me, said it felt good. I told him no problem.

This continued for the next week, and I don’t know how much of his cum I ate. He seemed to have an endless amount. His morning loads were the biggest, obviously, him undoing his belt before the helicopter was even out of sight. Sometimes he’d lie back on the grass and let me suck him, other times he’d stand and hold my head tight, forcing me to swallow deep, his load going right into my stomach. A few times, I came hands free into my Carhartts, çankaya escort though that was messy and got kind of gross by the end of the day. He never offered to get me off, and I didn’t ask.

But then we got split up for a few days, each working with the other guy from the tent, these guys straight as an arrow, kind of scary, so I wouldn’t even approach the subject of me getting them off. I could tell Tanner was getting frustrated when we’d be in the tent at night after work, all of us getting ready for bed. He’d be in his underwear, dick half hard, though only I could see it by the way he was sitting, an annoyed expression on his face.

That third night of us not working together, I lay on my platform in the tent, the other two guys snoring. It was grey twilight all night this far north. I couldn’t hear Tanner’s breathing, but assumed he was asleep. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Tanner, standing next to my bed naked, his dick hard as a rock. He had a finger to his lips. Something in his hand, too, a plastic container. I couldn’t make it out. I looked at the other guys in the far corner in the tent, then back at Tanner, like we can’t. He shook his head and motioned me to flip over. What? He put a hand on my hip and roughly turned me onto my stomach. Oh shit. This teenager was crazy. I had my face in my pillow now, the cotton musty, stray hairs all over it. With his other hand, Tanner pulled down my briefs to my ankles. Very quietly he climbed onto the platform. The wood creaked under his weight, and we froze and listened for the other guys’ breathing. After a moment, he moved on top of me, his cock against my lower back, hot and leaking onto my skin. I heard a container open, then a warm finger, covered in something, maybe Vaseline, at my ass. I tried to wriggle away, no, this was too risky, we’d get fired, maybe beat up. We couldn’t do this. One of Tanner’s strong hands planted into my upper back and held me down. His mouth by my ear, whispering, “Be quiet, I’ll go slow. No mess if I cum in you, right?”

I nodded and didn’t say anything back.

He wanted to breed me fifteen feet from two sleeping adults.

His fingers worked the Vaseline into my ass with one goal. He pressed his index against my prostate, and I almost screamed. I kept my mouth in the pillow to muffle any noise. One finger, two. I pushed out to give him access. I’d need to be relaxed or this would hurt. His dick was so hard on my back, a long string of precum painting back and forth over the skin there, warm and sticky. After another minute his fingers withdrew, and I felt something huge at the entrance to my body. His dick head paused at the tight entrance. So hot and hard. Then pressure, the flared crown pushing at the Vaseline-covered hole. He was huge and I focused on pushing out, letting him into my ass. He had a hand on my lower back, holding me still, holding me down so I didn’t move away. His precum helped slip him in little by little. With a hushed groan from him, the head went in. So full, the feeling of him. Hadn’t done this in so long. He had one hand on each of my ass cheeks now, slowly forcing his cock in me. I gasped into the pillow. The dick just kept coming, deeper and deeper, like it would never end. I lost track of time. Then the soft feeling of his bush against my skin, his balls against my taint. He was all the way in me, his dick inside my stomach it felt like. And for a minute he just stayed like that, his cock flexing with arousal. I swear I could feel his pulse through it. Had he not cum in the three days? Did he say he was going to cum in me? Slow at first, he began to slide out until just the head was in me, then back in, balls deep, then out. He went slow enough that it made hardly any noise. His breathing was a bit ragged though. He folded over me, his body all the way on top now, his mouth by my ear, whispering, “Fuck, you’re tight. We don’t want a mess right?” His tone desperate.

“Okay,” I whispered back. “You can cum in me.”

This made his deck flex in me. Each thrust ran right over my prostate. He couldn’t see but I knew there was a pool of my own precum all over my sheet under us. His pace picked up. I couldn’t help it at this point, and just stuffed my face in the pillow and came. I felt the cum leaving my dick like a vacuum was sucking it out. My whole body trembling and contracting under this wiry eighteen year old using me as a cum bucket. The contractions in my ass must’ve been too much for him because he bit onto my shoulder muffling a grunt and went as deep as he could in me. His dick twitched and began to jerk up and down in me, pulsing out his three-day load. I felt each buck of his orgasm, such warmth, his teeth in my skin, his body doing shallow uncontrolled thrusts, all instinct. Such a load. I felt cum squeeze out past his dick, nowhere to go, and leak down my ass to my balls, warm, gooey. Tanner came and came and came. His dick still rock hard, filling me up completely. After two minutes of this, he took his mouth off my shoulder and sucked in a breath. “Fuck,” he said. He slowly withdrew his softening dick, a flood of cum coming out with it, the cum on my ass and balls, legs, quilt. What a mess. He got off the bed without saying anything and went back to his, soon his snores joined the sounds coming from the other guys, and I was left to figure out the mess and wipe up the cum all my body and bed. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32