dom – Grindr Fantasies

A bit rough

Oh my god. That was intense. I stumble from the bathroom in the nature building, and ruffle my hand through my hair, trying to flatten it back down.

Well, I still had no idea but I’d gotten a tidbit of information. He was brown.

I smile to myself smugly. It figures, and fits with my theory I tell everybody who will listen. Brown guys are rough and given the opportunity, will treat you like their personal fuck toy. You don’t need to breathe. Suck it up, slut.

I still have no idea who he was. Obviously we had met before – he knew what I liked. When we’d talked on Snapchat I faked my way through. Of course I remember you 😂. I pull up my spreadsheet and go back through the dates, searching for Brown. At last I find him.

2018-12-17, 19yo brown. A bit rough.

Actually, his SC has a first name and I before I can help myself, I’ve pulled up a picture of him from the school paper. Yup, that’s him. President of the student union. Not bad.

A few days later I text him, we flirt a little.

Come to my office. UCC 340.

I show up at the appointed time. It’s a non-descript hallway, with only a numbered white door. I text that I’m there and he lets me inside.

He’s in business casual and has a desk, a laptop on it and decades-old binders of student-union documents on shelves around him. I feel like I’m visiting the principal’s office. Except I’m 40 and he’s 22. What the fuck am I doing?

He stands up behind his desk, and I see his hardon through his business casual slacks. “Take your clothes off. All of them. I want you naked,” he orders.

I do so, piling them in front of the door. I nervously look at the doorknob. “Is it safe?” I ask.

“It’s locked. Don’t worry.”

I walk up to him, cold and nude, and he puts his hands on my shoulders, pressing me down. I kneel down in front of him. Suddenly, I panic. What if he’s filming this?

He grabs my head, pressing it into his crotch. “Smell it,” he says. “Do you like that, fag?”

“MMmmmm hmm” I say, my face mashed against the fabric of his pants. I open my mouth and I feel the fabric wetting in my mouth, absorbing my saliva. I take a deep breath, infused with the scent of fabric softener and it makes me hard.

He grinds into me for a minute. After a while I I look up, stare straight into his face, hook my fingers under his waistband and pull his pants down. Instantly, his brown dick, now semi-hard sticks out at me.

He grabs me by the ears to hold me steady and rams his dick against my lips. I open up and feel it slide up against my tongue, lengthening with each thrust. He fucks my mouth a while, then sits on his office chair, pulling me with him so my face is against his lap.

His legs are squeezing together more tightly now against my torso, locking me in. “You’re just where you need to be, fag.” He holds my head and he’s slamming me down, again and again. My lips are on fire, I keep curling them over my teeth. Whenever I feel my teeth scrape against his skin I think I have failed, so I curl them over, only to be slammed against his pubic bone.

His belly is moving now, almost gyrating, synchronized with his laboured breathing as he uses my mouth and throat to masturbate himself. I can no longer breathe, because I can no longer synchronize my breaths with his thrusts. I am at his mercy now, I try to disconnect my mind. Yes, you need air, but you can breathe later. Be at peace. I allow him to move me. He works my head up and down so fast my lips are burning now as they rake against the skin of his cock, and I give up trying to hold in my spit, letting it drain out down over his balls.

Nothing changes, except his thighs grip my body like a vice as I suddenly taste his sperm flooding my mouth. If I were in control, I would stop now in case he gets sensitive, but he keeps his grip on my face and mouth fucks me a minute longer until he’s done emptying himself into his toy.

Finally, he releases me and I suck in a lungful of air around his dick, and collapse there, with my ass in the air, my face in his lap, and wait as his penis softens and spills the last of his cum. I let it sit in my mouth, appreciating its taste, somewhat like chemicals – he must be a coffee drinker – before I swallow a drop.

He grabs a box of tissues from his desk, takes out a giant handful, and wipes down his balls, then offers me the box. “Thanks,” I tell him. I notice that some of them come away pink, and realize with embarrassment what must have happened. “Sorry, I think I must have bit my lip,” I tell him. “No big deal.”

Once I have my clothes back on, I bid him farewell. “Thanks for the productive meeting,” I tell him, before the door swings shut.

The Big Goodbye

My best friend messages me. “You got a screwdriver?”

“What kind?” I ask. He sends me a picture of his computer.

Being in Canada’s a tough sell right now, with so many cities going into lockdown because of Covid. His parents made him an offer he couldn’t refuse, and now he’s heading back to his home country.

This guy is different that my usual anonymous favourites. After five years, I know everything about him, his favourite colour, his hopes and dreams. I’ve heard about every boyfriend he’s had. He only likes hairy bears, though lately his tastes have been broadening. He goes through relationships every few months. He wants what he can’t have, and once he can have it, he loses interest. I’ve heard the same story from him, as he goes through guy after guy. I always tell him so, he always says “Oh yeah!” Like its some huge insight.

But him and me, we’re just buddies. No complications. Nothing even happens between us. Except that one time. But we never talked about it after.

I hope he’ll update me on his life today. Is he still seeing the Lawyer? Then there’s Spanish Guy. And the new one from London.

I get there with my screwdriver set. He’s out of work now and lives in a basement room. (It seems the parental pressure to leave came when it posted a video of it).

His life is in boxes. “I can’t take these,” he says. “You want them?”

Sure. I sigh. I’ll value-village them. Secretly, I plan to take one sweater I’ve seen him wear. Chuck the rest.

“Where’s the computer?” i ask.

He points to the floor. The thing has no case. I kneel down and look at it. Instead, I see something fuzzy on the floor. I pick them up. A pair of fuzzy handcuffs, lined in neon fur.

He grins. “I just found those. They’re from Aroon.”

“Aroon? I don’t remember you telling me about these,” I smiled. “That was last year, right?”

“Two years ago.”

“Oh, Aroon, Aroon, how much I didn’t know.” I smile. His relationship with Arron soured after they argued over a restaurant bill.

Something changes. He seems to make up his mind.

“Hold out your wrists,” he says.

“What?”

“Hold out your wrists. Behind you.”

I kneel down on the floor and put my wrists behind me. He fumbles around and clasps the handcuffs on me.

“Tight?” he asks.

I nod.

“Close your eyes.”

“Okay.”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

Oh shit. I remember this.

“Yessir. Thank you sir.” I close my eyes, and immediately he slaps me on the side of my face. My cheek is stinging and my ears are throbbing. “Thank you sir.”

He slaps me again. I flinch, and then he unexpectedly slaps the other side. “Thank you sir.” I peek and see him grinning at me, like I’m his new toy.

“You can open your eyes.” He falls back on the bed, sticks his feet at me. “Smell them. Smell those dirty socks.”

I pretend to sniff them, exhaling instead. The floor is full of covid, for all I know.

“Take them off for me.”

My hands are still cuffed behind me. I slide over on my knees, and see that thankfully they are ankle socks. I grab them above the heel and deftly slip them over and off his foot. He doesn’t help at all. He just watches me struggle.

“Lick my feet, slave.”

“Yessir. Thank you sir.” I stick out my tongue. The sole of his foot is cold and thick, and I can see dust on them from the floor. I dance my tongue tip across it. When he sticks out his toe, I take it into my mouth and suck on it, and he looks down at me approvingly.

“I heard you like to suck.”

“Yessir.”

“Get up,” he says. He stands up and I’m kneeling in front of him. “Smell it.”

I can see his boner through his track pants. I press my face into it, tracing its length through the thick fabric with my lips.

He grips me by my shoulders and lifts me up, then slips his T-shirt down over my head. I’m in the darkness of his shirt, with my face pressed against his chest. He lowers himself, and mashes his nipple against my nose. I reposition so I can flick it with my tongue. He stands there for a few seconds, enjoying the flicking, before getting up again. He points to the band of his underwear under the track pants.

“Take them off. With your teeth.” he says.

Like I have a choice? I lean over, cuffed hands aching behind me, and deftly grab his waistband with my teeth and pull it down. It takes a couple of tries as it gets caught getting over his bulge.

I stay there, kneeling on the floor and staring at my best friend’s dick. I’ve often wondered what it was like and I finally get to see it. It’s not huge, but deliciously round and pointing straight out at me.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Suck it.” he demands.

“Yessir.” I breath. I open my mouth and slide in around him. He stands there, hands on his hips, and watches. Bobbing my head back and forth is not easy. If I go too far forward, I’ll fall over, and I won’t have my hands to catch me.

He steps back. “Bend over. Take your underwear off,” he tells me. I lean down, touching the hard wood floor with my forehead, and I here my open a drawer behind me. I manage to slide my underwear down over my thighs, and they stop there, leaving me even more helpless than before. With excitement and rising panic I here crinkling and a plastic tube snap shut, before I feel his body heat behind me.

I’ve been fucked before, but just barely. I am still not sure I like it. I’m leaning towards no. But he’s my friend, and suddenly I feel him slip between my but cheeks, slippery and cold and gooey.

“Relax your hole,” he says.

“I’m trying–” I say.

SLAP. The crack echos in the room, and I yelp as my ass stings.

“Yessir.”

“Relax it…. Relax,” he orders. I’m trying my best but these muscles are still unfamiliar to me. It doesn’t matter. He shifts slightly and then pushes hard, against something that is not supposed to give but does. I grit my teeth and softly whimper into the floor, hoping he does not hear me. He;s fucking me now, pushing further into my body with each thrust. My whole body tenses, and it takes everything out of me just to remain on all fours there, and not fall away from him.

After a minute he stops, and sits on the bed. “Get up,” he says.

As I roll on my side to get up, I pull a little to hard, and the pink handcuffs snap apart, releasing my arms. I keep them together to hide it. If he notices, he doesn’t say.

“Be honest with me. What do you like better?”

I hesitate, and look down. “I like to suck, sir,” I tell him.

“Really?” he asks incredulously. “OK. Get rid of the shit covered condom and suck me, then,”

“Thank you sir. Thank you!” I say, with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. He lays back on the bed and grabs his phone, not even giving me his attention. I use my hands to pull off the thing, revealing his stiff, moist dick. Now I am in familiar territory. I settle down and get to work.

It is difficult to tell what, if anything I am doing right, and I worry that I will not succeed. The minutes pass, and my mouth gets tired, but I am determined. I try going fast, and quickly tire. I try going deep, I try sucking, which gets difficult. The only thing that works is the odd time he slaps my cheek. That makes him harder.

It must have been 20 minutes later when he shifts his legs slightly and finally looks up at me. He’s going to stop me now. I’ve failed. I meet his eyes when suddenly I feel the pulsing, and my mouth is filling with his load.

I don’t get up, but I remain there, with his dick draining in my mouth, for several minutes while he reaches down and runs his hands through my hair, massaging my scalp.

“You are good at it,” he tells me.

“Thank you sir.”

He gets up off the bed. “I gotta piss,” he says. “Come over here.” He moves to stand directly over his computer. It’s lying on its side with the open motherboard exposed to the air.

“Should we get a towel?” I offer.

“Do you want another slapping? Just don’t spill.” he orders.

I sidle up to the other side of the computer, and gently wrap my lips around his dick. I can feel the delicate folds of skin stretched on its underside. I open wider to try not to touch it. We stay there for a while.

“Its just a little hard,” he says, under his breath.

Finally, he grunts and I immediately know it because a few drops of pungent urine drip onto my taste buds. He lets out a deep breath, and some more spurts out.

He stops and says, “Swallow it.”

I’m sweating now. The computer is right under me. I gulp down a mouthful of hot piss, then open my mouth again for more.

He’s relaxed now, and immediately he unleashes a torrent. The stream hits against my tongue, making it tingle. I can hear it splashing around inside of my mouth as it fills up. Then, when I’m almost ready to pull away cause I’m gonna spill, he stops. “Swallow.”

It takes two gulps to get it down this time. Then he puts his soft dick in my mouth, grunts, and bangs it against my lips, shaking out the last few drops for me.

I sit there obediently, not moving, waiting while he zips up.

“Uh, you can get up now,” he says. “It’s over.”

Later, over a Starbucks, we’re talking, and he asks how it was.

“Actually, it was quite a big load,” I tell him.

“Really? Wow, cause I had sex with Spanish Guy last night too.”

Strangled

“I’ve been reading your stories,” he writes.

It’s an 18 year old black guy. His profile picture has him looking up seductively from a pillow.

“Which one did you like?”

“I like them all. Can I see ur pics again?”

We met once about eight months ago. It had to be on campus, because he was between classes.

“I’m on campus could I come” he asks.

It’s almost 6pm. Those pesky janitors will start to poke around the washrooms soon. “Sure, I’m around.”

“Kk.”

I continue reading some stuff online. I get about two minutes into it when I see the message.

“I’m here. In the washroom.”

Shit. I scramble my stuff together and run to the nature building. My favourite washroom is in the basement of the nature building. It’s where I did my second ever BJ, and many since. It is usually pretty safe. But now, I can see the cleaning staff’s supply cart is already wheel out and waiting.

I knock quietly and the door opens by itself, to an empty washroom. When I walk in, he is tucked behind the door.

The youth is tall, and wearing a gray hoodie. I stare at him while I take off my coat and shirt and set them on the diaper change table. I can’t stop staring at his face. His brown skin glows with the youthfulness of a teenager, and his lips are plump and inviting. Yet he is tall and strong. I can’t believe I get to suck his cock.

His hands are large, and he unbuckles his belt with long jointed fingers. “You want me to piss in your mouth?” he asks.

He really has been reading my stories! “Sure!” I tell him, kneeling down. He lowers his black underwear and pulls out his dick, which must be 8” long, and points it down at the floor. I get down and put my mouth on it and wait.

Right away, he puts a hand under my chin and yanks my head up to look at him.

“When I’m ready, I’ll let you know.”

“Yes sir.” I kneel before him and wait obediently. In the silence, I can hear the sink dripping. I stay perfectly still, just waiting and ready to take his stream.

“It’s too hard, so just suck it,” he says.

I obey, wrapping my mouth around it and suckle it like a popsicle.

He grabs my shoulders with his large strong hands and shoves me against the wall, leaning into my mouth so much that he rests his knees against my triceps, and then he face-fucks me.

He grabs my hands in his, and places them on his butt. Then he slaps his ass with my hand. The slap echos in the bathroom, and I fear it could be heard outside the thin door. Still, when he takes his hand away, I slap him again, and squeeze his butt cheek, rolling it in my hands. In response, he shoves his dick further in my mouth.

He stands up and I stay there obediently, letting his dick plop from my mouth. In response, he grabs my chin and makes me look up at him. “Don’t stop,” he commands. “Don’t ever stop for anything.” When I nod my head, he uses his other hand to pick up his massive dick and shoves it into my mouth once again.

I comply, bobbing my head back and forth between his body and the concrete wall.

Then I feel his hands caress my shoulders. They slowly move up my neck, caressing my skin. His hands are so large they can wrap all the way around my neck with no effort. Suddenly they start to squeeze. My windpipe is being compressed by his grip. I am being strangled. I look up at him, eyes wide, and see his face. The world slows down for me. His lips move: “Don’t stop.” he mouths soundlessly. My blood is pounding in my eyes and I am afraid. My mind is racing. He digs his two thumbs painfully into the side of my windpipe. Every detail of his face is burning into my brain now. His plump lips glisten in the bathroom light. His left ear has small a gold star earring. I even notice his eyebrow hair, one errant black strand juts out longer than the others. His eyes are deep brown staring into mine with cold fascination, as he squeezes the life out of me, because nobody every let him do this before. We are intimately connected; we are aggressor and victim. I can see his thoughts and I am scared. The sound of blood rushing in my ears is deafening as he continues to squeeze.

At last he lets up and I gasp for breath, sucking in air around his dick which is even harder now. Don’t stop, I tell myself, and bob my head up and down. He reaches down my back and pulls on the back of my underwear, giving me a wedgie, as he bends forward it becomes difficult to move, my cheek is mashed up against his abs, and I struggle to flick my tongue against his giant throbbing cockhead. Still, he keeps on pulling up, and I can hear the first of many seams of my $35 pump underwear ripping. He relentlessly pulls, and I wince as I hear each stitch rip apart. I feel the fabric bunch together into a tight thin rope and it digs into my anus. My ass is exposed to the cold bathroom air now. That’s when I feel his hand slap my ass. The slap rings out in the bathroom. Again, he slaps me, five, six times, each harder than the last. I cry out in pain, but my cries are muffled against his thigh.

It just makes him hornier. He stands there before me, cock jutting into my mouth and watches while I suck him. “Slower,” he says. I slow down, almost stopping. Too slow. He grabs my head and moves it for me, showing me what he wants.

“I’m gettin’ close.”

I slow down again, obediently, almost stopping.

“No, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” With that, I feel his hands reach around my neck again, his large hands closing around my windpipe. This time, as he tightens his grip, he starts to fuck my mouth. I look up, trying to see his face again, but this time he has not bothered to move his shirt, and all I can see is the thick fabric of his hoodie. The blood rushes to my ears, and I begin to notice things. The zipper of his hoodie, the gray and white fibers of this fabric, stitched into microscopic triangles. Time slows down and I can no longer breath, or move in his strong grip. His thumbs stab my throat painfully and he thrusts deeper each time. Although seconds have passed I feel like I can’t breath and I am filled with dread… I am not going to be able to take another breath until he is done with me. My eyes feel huge, like they are going to explode in their sockets. My mind circles in panic. Can he even think straight like this? What if he squeezes harder? Every sense is heightened. I can even taste the subtle saltiness of his pre-cum.

After an eternity, it happens. He grips my neck not releasing it and gasps as his cum courses through his massive penis. With each pulse, his grip slackens and soon I am gasping, sucking in life-giving air so fast I accidentally choke on his thick cum.

“Sorry about the underwear,” he says.

“That’s OK, I have lots,” I tell him. My voice is hoarse.

“Good. You better fucking write a story,” he says, and the door closes behind him.

I immediately lock it so the janitor can’t come in, and look in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot and my hair is wild. My neck has two blotches of red skin where his thumbs were. I lean over the sink and splash some water over my face, run my fingers through my hair. It has never felt so good to be alive.

Draining in the dark

“Looking now?” comes the mid-afternoon message. I was on campus, studying in the library.

“Yeah. You got a place?”

“I do, but I want you to drain me on campus.”

“Got a place in mind?”

“You tell me, you know the spots.”

Now how would he know that? I pull up his picture and zoom in. It’s a selfie, on the beach, his boyish smile above his chiseled abs. I don’t believe I’ve met him.

The messages come in quick succession. “I want you waiting for me in the dark. Wait for me naked, on your knees, lights off. Understood?”

I think that I love him. I tell him where my second favourite bathroom was, the one with the light switch. I’ll take some pictures so he knows where to go.

“I’ll be free in about 30 minutes,” he writes back.

OK. A few minutes later I scope out the place. Yes, it is in a busy hallway, but the doors lock. We have to do the trick I learned long ago. “When you get here, knock quietly and I’ll let you in.”

“Better be naked.”

I use my phone light to examine the empty bathroom. It’s spacious. I throw away a Tim Horton’s cup someone left on the sink, then I pile my clothes on the floor. No, he might trip if I leave them there. I moved them under the sink, and waited to get used to the dark. The tile is cold against my feet.

Too soon for my fluttering heart, someone very clearly knocks on the door. I get behind it and let it open. He comes in and quickly closes the door. I can’t see his face, but I know he is tall. I take my place in the corner of the room, crouching on my knees back against the two walls. Ready for him.

He lowers his pants and pulls out his cock, gives it a few strokes. It looks hard already, but as soon as I mouth it I know it’s an illusion. It’s still soft, he is just really big. I quickly and expertly suck him to hardness, and he lets out a breath as I deep throat him.

As soon as his cock leaves my throat, he starts to thrust. He leans against the two walls of the corner, and with all his weight he thrusts into me, hitting the back of my throat. Each thrust draws out more wetness, but I have learned that despite the mess it is important to keep it as lube. I used my hands to spread it around his long shaft. He must be almost 9 inches long but it’s impossible to tell in the dark.

“Sorry I didn’t shave,” he says, momentarily dropping his dom persona.

I chuckle, then have to explain: “Don’t worry, it’s so long it’s really not a problem.” I physically can’t reach his pubes with his cock jutting out of my mouth.

I take over and bob my head quickly.

“Slow down. Just enjoy the cock,” he said.

I do as instructed. I use the opportunity to explore his body with my hands. His shirt is gone and I reach up his back and let my hands glide down his firm buttocks. They are clenched together now. I let my hands slide against his skin, now goose-pimpled, feeling his thigh bones, and then down to his balls, which hang down below my chin, now thoroughly wet from my mouth. I play with them, appreciating the feeling of having my hands wrapped around another man’s precious jewels.

He starts thrusting again now, and my hands move to his butt to help push him into my face. I can smell his crotch scent with every breath

“Use your hand.” he orders.

I reach up, and grip his slippery shaft, alternately pulling and pushing on it as he thrusts into my mouth.

“Squeeze.”

“Mmmm?”

“Squeeze it hard.” he directs.

I squeeze his shaft, harder than I think is nice. I can feel his veins shifting under the skin. How can he be enjoying this? Doesn’t it hurt? I grip harder and he gasps in pleasure, his corpus spongiosum bending in my fist.

“Faster–!”

Squeezing hard, I move my hands up now, dragging his skin along his shaft as I pull and push it through my lips. It is hot as fire now.

“Ooooh yaaahhh,” he moans. “I’m cumming…”

He isn’t, but I don’t stop. A minute later, he presses forward, shoving my neck back toward the wall. His dick hits the back of my throat, and unleashes his massive load. It has nowhere to go but straight down my esophagus.

“Clean it up,” he says. Wow, deja vue.. this part is straight outta one of my stories!

I slowly suck it out, using my fingers to brush the slickness away. He is slowly drying, and I suckle his member for a few minutes more. This guy is fun. No need to rush out.

I wonder if he’s trying to go for round two. But his cock’s at 3/4 mast. I’ve already drained him. I look up, and he seems lost in thought

“Can you do anything else?” he askes me after a while.

What could he mean? He couldn’t want to fuck, could he? “That’s pretty much it.”

“Well, I read differently.”

Ahhhh…. it suddenly clicks together. He’s read my blog! I love it when I meet with fans of my blog — they know exactly what I like.

“You want some piss?” he asks me.

“Yeah!” I excitedly move into position a little lower, back still against the corner of the bathroom.

He stands above me, perfectly still, for many minutes. I’m in heaven, mouth around a cock, smelling his crotch scent as I slip out my own cock and handle it near the floor. But his monster hose will not shrink, especially with its end dangling into my mouth. I can’t help licking it, feeling its ridge with my tongue.

“I’m just on the verge…” he says. I’m not complaining. I stare up at him, but I cannot see his face, only the bottom of his rib-cage as he arcs up and looked toward the ceiling. Today I am his servant, and if he needs me for one hour I then I am prepared to stay there.

“Let me try something.” He turns around to the toilet. My eyes are used to the dim light now, and I can now see his perfectly shaped ass, that I had been feeling up for the past 20 minutes. He puts his hands above his butt, penis dangling over the toilet, mentally getting in the mood to piss.

Now he reaches over and turns on the faucet, and leaves it running. The sound of water does it. He turns his body toward me again, smiling. This time, when my mouth closes around his penis, he takes a deep breath, and a sharp tasting stream of urine squirts into my mouth up against my throat. I cough, almost choking with my lips around his cock, but don’t spill any. He smiles in satisfaction.

Mission accomplished, he quickly does up his belt and leaves me in the darkened washroom.

I Topped

He was a tall, skinny 18 year old twink last time. Last October, at 9 in the morning, he invited me over. After I got there he casually mentioned that he was taking a lot of drugs the night before. Okayyyy… His cock was soft and reeked of tobacco. I was afraid I’d get high as I sucked him off in his basement, listening to his younger brother stomp around upstairs. Though I couldn’t bring him to cum, I couldn’t get the taste out of my mouth for the whole day. He was hot, though, and had a really casual attitude that made me feel super comfortable with him. Even if nobody climaxed, it was darn fun to be around him.

Now, a year later, his Mom was working again and his brother was in school, and he had the place to himself during the day. He’d mentioned something about milking him while rimming him, wanting to be “sub trained”, so I brought along a flogger. He knew I wouldn’t top, but he was so horny today it didn’t matter.

“I forgot to ask,” he messaged. “Are you OK with watersports? Like with me being peed on, not you.”

Yes and yes!

“I’m gonna take a shower. Definitely just come right in the sliding door and make yourself at home,” he wrote.

Usually I hate walking into stranger’s houses. Luckily when I showed up he let me right in and led me to the living room.

“Hi!” he said brightly, brushing his shoulder-length brown hair out of eyes. “Let’s get some porn going here.”

I looked around nervously, as the front door of the house was right there, and we were visible through the kitchen to the sliding doors in the backyard. A family desktop computer sat on a small table in the living room, and he already had 18 tabs of Pornhub open.

“Don’t worry. My mom’s at work and nobody’s coming back for a while.” He nonchalantly dropped his pants, revealing a soft cut penis. Then he leaned down to the keyboard, butt in the air, and started looking through the videos.

He picked one with a hot teen in it, but it was just him talking so he had to change it. “So what do you want to do?” he asked, turning toward me.

“Let’s start with the rimming,” I told him.

“My favourite!” He got on the floor. His tiny twink butt pointed in the air and spread, showing his hairless hole. I got down and licked it, and he moaned with excitement.

Without warning, I slapped his ass so hard he flinched and yelped. “Say thank-you sir,” I demanded.

“Thank-you sir,” he said, moaning in pleasure. His penis hung down to the floor, growing hard.

“Very good. Now you will be rewarded.” I slid my head under him and twisted around, sucking his long dick into my mouth. He yelped again in surprise, and then moaned as I used my my thumb to massage his slick hole.

We played a while, with me repeatedly slapping him the teen kept getting hornier. He looked back at me, panting. “What else you wanna do?”

I knew he wanted to be fucked, but I had never successfully topped before. Time to move on. “Well I gotta pee,” I told him.

“Fuck yeah, let’s go to the shower?” he leaped off the ground and bounded down the steps to the basement, cock bouncing under him. I followed him and he rounded a corner, into the bathroom with a small corner shower. By the time I got there, he was bent down on the shower floor with his, tight, slick asshole pointed into the air. “Try to hit the hole,” he begged. “I don’t know what it is, but I am just addicted to that feeling of piss hitting it.”

I pulled out my cock, took aim, and instantly a shower of piss spattered out everywhere. The droplets of pure yellow beaded up all over his back and soaked into his long dark hair. “There you go,” I said as I manipulated it into a stream. I let it all out, sighing with relief as I stood above the teen and pissed as hard as I could directly into his puckered asshole. The sound of it spattering against his skin, running down his hairless balls and dripping down into the drain echoed throughout the tiny bathroom.

When I was done, he turned around and sat down in the yellow puddle of piss, sighing contentedly. “That was awesome,” he said.

“Hit the spot eh?”

“Yeah! I’ll just shower it off quickly now,” Then he closed the glass door, and showered off. As he shampood his long hair, I stood right by the door, staring down at his soapy ass, and rubbed my dick.

“You didn’t bring any other toys, did you?” he asked me once we were back in family room. “I’m kind of weird. I take a while to warm up to fingers in my ass, but strangely cock is no problem.”

“Sorry, I just brought the flogger.” Besides, toy sharing is not safe. “Have you tried a cucumber? Banana?”

His eyes lit up, and he rushed to the kitchen, coming back with a thick yellow banana. We quickly covered it with a condom. He got on the couch and I squirted some lube on his crack, and he began to push it in. I put my hand on his and helped him.

His face twisted in determination, and then he pulled it out. The end of the banana was sagging inside the condom. “It squished,” he said.

“Yeah… Unfortunately if a banana squished there’s no way I’d get in there. The two times I’ve tried before, I’m always too soft.” I took a breath and looked around. “Maybe try a carrot?”

“We have literally no carrots in the house.”

“Marker? Hair brush?”

His eyes widened. “Oh my god yes!” He leaped up the flight of stairs and rummage through a drawer. I saw him grab something and he carried it back down, holding it up high.

“Got anymore of that lube? I mean, I think I might have some somewhere…”

“No problem,” I said, and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers. With one hand, he massaged it over his whole, and lay back on the couch, legs in the air. The other hand was on his phone, finding stuff on Pornhub. I looked down at my own phone, but I didn’t need it. I just stared at the teen on the couch beside me.

He gradually slid his mom’s hairbrush inside himself, and moaned. “I think I found a new favorite thing. I gotta hide this when we are done.”

I just stared at him, transfixed. I couldn’t get my eyes off his hole as it seemed to grip the brush handle on its own and draw it into himself, eliciting a wave of pure pleasure throughout his body with every millimeter he managed to push.

I was slowly pulling on my cock beside him. I was getting very hard and moreover I seemed to be staying that way. I slid off the couch and got a new condom and the lube, and ripped it open.

“You gonna try?” he beamed at me.

I didn’t say anything. Usually by the time the condom gets on I’m squishy again. I squeezed a dollop of lube out and rubbed it over my condom covered cock, which was still hard as ever.

He pulled out the comb and maneuvered himself around, putting his butt over the edge of the couch. He wrapped his hands around hie feet and and pulled them back, and his hole gaped before me. I reached down and positioned my cock head in front of it, and PUSHED.

“Uh uh no you gotta go slow!” he shouted.

“Right, sorry.” I stayed where I was, and started to fuck his hole, just the tip. Gradually I could feel the condom sliding against his skin, letter more of me inside.

“That’s good,” he told me. “Yeah you can go in further now… I can feel it open up.”

And then, all at once, I slid past… something… and I was fucking him. He moaned with each thrust, and I could feel his pleasure as well as my own as I went faster and faster.

“This is great,” he said between breaths. “You’re just the right size and everything!” And then his eyes rolled back into his head as he seemed lost in the moment, still moaning. After a while, a bead of sweat dripped from my forehead onto his taut belly.
“Don’t tire yourself out,” he told me. “I am more than happy with this so far. You are really good at this.”

I decided that I really like this guy. I didn’t want to stop, so I kept going. I felt so happy. I topped. I have topped. Am I a top? I just love to give pleasure. And it was plain that the kid was high on pleasure right now, because of my fucking cock inside of him.

Eventually, I did stop, pulled out and lay down to rest on the couch beside him.

He was still gushing about how good I was. “You were so good! I mean it! Some guys are so big and they don’t know how hard to push. I’m so glad you came. I was literally trying to get someone to fuck me all of yesterday.”

When I got to my car I just sat there, smiling. I topped! And then he messaged:

“I know you’re kind of new. If you’re into it maybe I can top you sometime and try and point out the things people taught me that helps.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” I wrote back before I could stop myself.