dom – Page 3 – Grindr Fantasies

Demon in the Dark

I have a memory of a memory. I’m a young boy, I don’t know, maybe eleven years old, and I’m lying in my bed in the darkness. I feel a tightness in my chest, and eventually I sense a dark, formless figure. It is sitting on me. It is heavy like a dog, and it terrifies me. I can’t move. I can’t even lift my arm. I want to cry out to my mommy down the hall. But all I can do struggle to fill my lungs with air, while staring, petrified, into the shifting features of the horrific, shadowy beast. I do not know how I make it through the night. When I awake, my pyjamas are soaked, and the thing has fled.

The night terror never returned to me, but it had buried itself in my mind. As I grew older, I began to remember more. What was that, lying against my tummy? Was it the fuzz of a scrotum? Maybe it wanted something, but I was too afraid, and too young to recognize its erection. As a teenager, I would lie under my blanket, hand moving inside my white briefs, thinking of it. I even tried to conjure it, promising that I would do whatever depraved thing it wanted. But soon, somehow, my mind turned to girls, and the demon was forgotten.

I am well into my thirties, and I have not thought of it in years. But tonight something transpired that dredged up these ancient dreams and left me shaken.

It’s winter. The polar vortex has exhaled its icy breath over University Town. I’m free in the evening for the first time in months, and I happen to see a familiar, faceless profile on Grindr. Even after five months, he remembers me. It takes only two messages before I’m driving over.

When he leads me into his apartment, my pulse quickens. You wouldn’t notice him if he were in an office cubical next to you. Yet I know what he’s capable of. I’m sure we would make great friends, if I dared to ask. He’s close to my age, for one, and from his bookshelf, it seems we are both closet geeks. After taking off my boots, we head straight to his bedroom.

I see a copy of Predictably Irrational, a book on business psychology, lying on the floor. “Hey, I read that! It’s useful,” I remark.

“I’ve been meaning to finish it,” he says. He’s still got his pants on. They are tan in colour, suitable for the office, and they look pricey. They fit him perfectly, and the suede textured material closely hugs his ass. I can see the top of his boxers against his tight abdomen. He pulls off his shirt, revealing his firm body, and walks around the bed to the window. Outside, across a small lake, we see the buildings and lights of University Town. With a quick pull, the view disappears behind his thick velvet curtains.

My pants and shirt lay in a heap on the floor, and I leap into his bed, sliding up to relax against the headboard.

The outline of his erection is clear and left leaning. From across the room, he locks eyes with me. His gaze is intense, like he is looking into my soul.

“What are you looking for?” he asks. “Same as last time?”

“Yeah. I just like to be used.”

I feel his eyes raking over my body as he approaches. He reaches towards the lamp.

The room disappears into darkness.

“Well this is different,” I remark. He doesn’t respond, but I hear the rustling of his pants sliding off.

His hand brushes against my side, and the bed creaks as he mounts it. He’s straddling my waist. My eyes are beginning to adjust. I see only his dark outline rising up above me. A sliver of light reflects from the smooth head of his penis. Erect and ready, it slopes under its own weight towards my chest. I feel his hands reaching for me, finding my shoulders, and shoving me down. I obey, and slide my body down, slipping along his silky smooth sheets.

Under me, something hard digs into my naked back and I wince. I open my mouth to tell him, but I only manage to gasp before he stuffs himself in. He grips its base, shakes it around, slapping my molars and soft parts alike. I close my lips around it and taste his delicious saltiness. I let my tongue roll its head, feeling its smooth yet squishy texture.

He slowly pulls it out then shuffles closer to my face. His balls, shaved smooth, press against my nose. I open up to receive them, and suck one into my mouth. I slowly suck on it and hear him gasp above me. I’ve found something he loves.

A moment later he presses his penis through my lips once again.

“Suck,” he tells me.

I try to maintain a suction, which becomes difficult as he plunges his member against the back of my mouth, and pulls it out again. I can see nothing but darkness, and the thing poking my back is breaking my concentration. I bend my elbow back and my fingers close around the pointed object that is bothering me. I pull it out and hold it up in front of me.

Wordlessly, he takes it from my hands, and without removing his penis from my mouth, leans over and puts it beside the lamp.

His hands go back onto my shoulders again, and he thrusts a while. Then, unexpectedly, he rolls back out of the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lay down. With your head off the bed.”

“Oh! Sure,” I say. Damn, I intentionally choose this position because it gives me more control. Last time he face-fucked me, he nearly suffocated me. Not that I didn’t enjoy it.

“I will try.” I spin around and lay back, head dangling from the side of the bed. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.” I take a deep breath. At this point, I don’t know about the strange and terrifying thing that’s going to happen.

He steps forward, and I sense the warmth of his thighs around my ears, before he plunges his cock into my mouth. He gasps when it hits the back, and I brace myself, and allow it to slide down further. I stare up into the darkness and imagine what awesome sight I would be seeing if only the light were on. You’re fine, I tell myself. You can do this.

He pushes against my ribs with his hands, and draws himself out again. I slurp in a wet breath around his cock before he slams his body forward again. Maybe because he can’t see me, he is much rougher than last time. In the darkness I can hear his breath, coming in short gasps of pleasure. I focus on them to stop the urge to vomit. He’s sliding so far forward now he lifts one knee and then the other onto the bed, beside my shoulders. He’s directly over my face now. When he bounces on his knees, his penis drives straight down away from his body into my open mouth and deep into my throat.

I retch, and he pulls it out, stroking himself, and presses his balls against my mouth. I oblige and slurp them in, greatful for the break. I massage them in turn with my lips as I hear him gasping above me.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and shimmies even further forward. over my face. I’m licking his perineum. I can feel him stroking himself over my chest, bending his body to direct my licks further and further into his crack. In a moment, he’s sitting on my face. I suck in a breath through my nose. The air is rife with the smell of his fabric softener, his musky aroma, and the tiniest whiff of nastiness.

So far, everything is going great. I rake my tongue up through his crack, letting it slide over each thick, unshaven wiry ass hair, and finally shove it into his puckered hole.

“Oh yeah,” he breathes, plopping himself down onto my face. I open up and give his ass hairs a wet, sucking kiss. I’m making out with his bottom now, and his moans of pleasure mix with my own moans of appreciation at being able to serve him.

Suddenly he pulls away, flips around and crouches over my chest, his hands still moving furiously over his cock. I can see only his dark silhouette, his back is arched towards the ceiling.

His features seem to shift in the darkness. All of a sudden, pictures come flooding into my mind. They are a memory of a memory, warped by time. I feel a cold sweat break out, and I grip the sheets with my fists. It is like I am at the top of a ski hill, so high I cannot see the bottom, and I’m about to jump. It is terror, and excitement all at once.

Above me, the dark figure moves its fists over its cock, readying itself for what it has been waiting to do, for all these god damned years.

It stops and glares at me. I see the light glinting off its eyes, but I can’t make out his face. My imagination whirls. It looks like it has an impossibly huge mouth, filled with sharp spikes instead of teeth.

“You wanna eat my load?” the creature rasps.

“Uh huh” I squeak.

“What did you say?”

“Yes please, sir”

“Take it.” it barks, pointing its penis towards me, almost straight down. I feel its other paw behind my head, lifting me up, and as the cock passes through my lips. The dark figure thrusts itself into my face, its hands press me into it, forcing me to eat its large, slick cock all the way down to the thick pubic hair. It thrusts like an animal and I can hear it panting and grunting. And then, as if to further impress me with its size, it stops, and flexes its cock muscles. It expands in my mouth, contracts. Expands, contracts.

He’s not flexing, I realize as I feel a thickness surge in back of my throat. It tastes like pure evil, bitter yet decadent. I close my lips around it and lightly suck. I hear deep, ragged breaths above me as each pulse fills my mouth with more. Soon the pulses have stopped, but the dark form holds my face tightly against his body, forcing me to suckle him and draw out every precious bit of his demon seed while he softens. I swallow it all, just as I had promised.

The form shifts, reaches behind itself, feeling around the darkness for something. A hand, hot as fire, closes around my own cock. I usually don’t like getting reciprocated, but like in my ancient dream, I am paralysed and powerless to stop him. The beast roughly yanks my dick from my briefs and begins to pump it. With my mouth still being impaled, I feel the unstoppable wave rising within me, and I tense up, trying to hold it inside. My cries are muffled against its flesh as I buck my hips into the air and shoot my pent up sperm onto its wrist. Waves of orgasm release me from my paralysis as my butt hits the bed again, and I feel thick, hot ropes land on my belly.

I’m done, and it hurts now. The demon carries on stroking without slowing down. I cannot speak with my mouth full. I squirm, but each time I move my waist, the cursed hand follows, ceaselessly stroking without mercy. My eyes well with tears and they spill over my cheeks, and just as I did before, I give up and submit to him. He holds me there, and I lie under him, feeling empty and used, until his dick is completely flaccid and pops from my mouth on its own.

I do not know how long I lay there. When the light comes on, the demon is gone, and only my unassuming hookup remains. My skin is slick with sweat and cum, mostly mine. The sudden chill makes me shiver.

I search around for something to wipe myself. Finding nothing, I wait while he towels his own crotch and meticulously wipes his wrist before he tosses it to me. I use the corner to dab the tears from my eyes.

We do not speak until I am dressed. I do not have words to describe what happened. Instead, we talk about the weather until I am in the elevator and the door closes. Then, knees weak, I collapse against the railing and wait there until long after I reach the ground floor, just trying to process what I have just experienced.

I can’t wait to see him again.

Morning Wood in Montreal

I’m in Montreal for a few days. Tonight, I’ve told my business colleagues I’m doing some shopping while they have dinner. The truth is: I’m horny. It’s been a three month dry spell at home. I flip on grindr and just walk.

At night, Sainte-Catherine Street comes alive with glowing purple lights and street performers, as they crawl out their shipping container dressing rooms and prepare to perform to beer-gulping Montreal tourists. Further on, the clothing boutiques give way to poutine diners and Starbucks cafes. Soon I reach the gay village. The boundary between straight and gay is well marked. Hundreds of pink plastic balls are suspended over the street, in a giant cavernous spectacle. They seem to glow with an inner light. Under here, they seem to say, you’re safe. Come, join us. You belong.

I can never belong. I made my choice long ago, when I met my soul mate at the end of school. She saw past my shyness, and became the first person I dated. Now, we have a house, mortgage, kids, and seemingly everything is good. But I crave a physical connection that she can do without. For years I lived the lack of it using lonely porn, until I discovered that I was not entirely straight. With discretion, and a dose of guilt, I could have the best of both worlds.

I’m walking down the middle of the street, which is blocked off to vehicles all summer. Upscale pubs and restaurants spill their patios onto the street, full of diners sipping St. Ambroise craft beers and delicately forking up fancy french fries covered with a mess of gravy and smoked meat.

I look at the patrons and try to decide if they’re gay. Men sit with men, and men sit with women. Lost in thought, I almost crash into a lanky gray haired man, wearing a tank top far below his age. His loose leathery skin hangs off his arms in a display of pride. After tasting me with his eyes, he smiles seductively and continuous his brisk walk.

The establishments have open fronts, like a life sized gay diorama. A shirtless bartender, illuminated by red lights lazily pours beers for the small crowd of bearded bears around him. I pass Sebastian the Barber. Inside the chrome filled barber shop, a punk (Sebastian?) gracefully dances around his barber chair, putting the finishing touches on a brown guy in business attire. The two men could not have been more eclectic.

On my left I see a store with its window boarded up. Paradoxically, the above sign is lit and shining brightly. Black letters cast a silhouetted shadow of red. PRIAPE. From the Greek god of the penis, and the etomological root of a medical condition, priapism – a persistent and painful erection. I look through the open door, but I can’t see anything. I relent, and enter.

“Salut! Hello!” The clerk, a red-bearded bear of a man greets me.

“Just looking!” I exclaim, and I scurry behind a display stand of faceless black rubber masks. I can buy very little here without raising questions from my wife. Maybe some underwear. I try on a couple of pairs of PUMP briefs, admiring my body in the tiny change room. Shit, I can pull these off now. The smallest size hug my balls and make my ass look shapely.

When I emerge fully dressed again, the clerk is standing outside the curtain. “I would like to invite you to my basement,” he tells me, winking. “It is where the fun is, yes?”

I start at him blankly, wondering how he could proposition me so easily. Then my cheeks grow hot when I notice the stairs down to the other half of the store.

“I’ll have a look. Thanks.” Downstairs, a giant black sex swing hangs from the ceiling, holding piles of discounted latex penises. The premium models are impossibly sized and have testes attached, each wrinkle permanently etched in silicon. I consider getting one, but then realize that would be mad. Nothing has ever been inside me. I’ll start with a finger, one of these days.

I make my purchase and head out into the chaos outside. Grindr is useless here. Everyone on the screen is less than ten feet away, but they are busy, and it changes too quickly.

On Jack’d, I see the image of a cute twink. Shirtless, he rakes his hand through his tussled hair, as if he’d just woken up. He smiles infectiously. I message him, and a couple of others, but get no response.

The night seemed full of possibilities, but all I’ve got is $70 worth of spandex. Resigned, I board the metro at Beaudry station and rejoin my colleagues for beers in old Montreal. I remember little else from that night.

In the morning, I spring awake at 5:30. It will be hours until I have to report to work. I flip on my phone and browse. A message blinks at me. The twink from Jack’d has responded just now. We efficiently negotiate the details. He doesn’t want to come over, but I’m welcome to go to him. After I decipher the metro map, I’m soon walking toward his building as the city of Montreal awakens around me.

He answers the door in only a green tank top. At only 51 kg, he has no body fat, but a great body nonetheless. He is not overly thin, and I can see tight bulges on his arms marking cute biceps. He flashes me a sleepy smile as I come in. “Leave your shoes on if you want,” he says and stumbles back into his large studio apartment. The hardwood floor is brightly lit by the morning sun.

Tired, he walks zombie like and falls onto a black leather couch. “Sorry I just got up,” he says. “What would you like to do?”

I stare at his cock, cut and still sporting his morning wood. “If you don’t mind, we can get right to it.”

“Knock yourself out.” He spreads his knees, rests his head back on the couch and closes his eyes.

His balls are beautiful like a firm round softball sitting under his small cut cock. I slide my tongue under them, lift them off the salty couch leather, and massage them. His member pokes the bridge of my nose. When I engulf him in my warm softness, he moans and runs his hand through my hair. He is waking up now.

“How about you lay down, and I’ll get on top?” He asks.

“Sure! That’s kind of my favourite position.” I take the opportunity to strip and show him my new underwear.

“Where’d you get them?” he asks.

I tell him, but he balks at the price. I get onto his bed and kneels beside me. He reaches over and stuffs some gray pillows under my head.

Then he flips a leg over and towers over me, looking down. I run my hands up his legs and over his body, enjoying the smooth feeling.

“Suck my balls,” he orders. I open up and he lowers himself in. The the skin is soft and I mouth them, squeezing his testes gently between my lips. He gasps.

I watch his face as he grabs a small brown vial from the nightstand, opens it and sniffs it. Instantly he relaxes, moans, and lets down his weight.

“You like my balls, huh? It feels so good.” He jams his nuts into my mouth so hard I can feel the tendons under them pressing against my jaw. I chew them, suck them, licking off all of the delicious flavour while he takes another hit of alkyl nitrite.

He tosses the spent vial into his blankets, then falls forward over my face. All I can see are his rippling abs curving overhead. His balls pull away, and his penis, shiny and pink, juts millimetres from my lips. I’m anxious to take it.

With a thrust of his hips, he obliges, and I feel his cock slide into my mouth. “You’re a great cocksucker,” he moans.

He fucks me, and I raise my eyes, tilt my head back to get a look at his face. Resting on his elbows, he grips the pillow in his fists, like a panther clutching a doomed rabbit. He stares back into my eyes, enjoying the sight of his own his dick invading me. His slight size means I can breathe comfortably and I reward him by moving my tongue in the swallowing motion I’ve perfected.

He pulls out and raises his body up again, staring down at me in ecstatic wonderment. “Yeah chew on my balls.” Again he teabags me, enjoying the feeling of his balls being serviced. I moan at him to express my pleasure.

He grabs his dick and shoves it in my mouth, gives a quick thrust of his hips and jabs it in deep. “You like that, huh?” He thrusts again. “You like it when I fuck your mouth?”

“Mmmm hmmm” I answer.

“What’s that? You want it HARDer?” He stabs it so hard my lips feel bruised against his unpadded bones.

“Oh man, fuck that’s good.” Thrust. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and slowly let’s it out. “uuuuhh… yeah… I’m soooo close!”

He plants his hands behind my head, holds me in place, and starts to mouth fuck me quickly. “Oh fuck, oh man on fuck… I’m gonna cum I hope you want it oh fuck!”

He slams into me full on and I feel the syrupy thickness erupt into my throat. He holds me there, and I learn the secret of his firm balls as their contents fills me. He tilts his head and stares at me grinning while I struggle to gulp down his impossibly large load. At last he lifts his knee of my chest and settles back beside me on his haunches, completely drained.

“That was so good,” I tell him. “Thanks I’m glad to meet you.”

“Yeah me too. How long are you here for?”

“I’ll be here the test of the week,” I smile putting on my sandals. “Maybe we can do it again? If you want..” I add hopefully.

“I’d like that,” he says, falling into the pile of pillows. “I’m probably gonna go back to sleep now though.”

I make my own way out, glad to have met this guy, and take the metro back to my hotel for breakfast. He became my Montreal morning routine for the rest of the trip.

Used

His bed is firm under my naked back. It’s just after lunch, but the room is dark, and I’m alone. He never bothered to open the curtains. The meagre light that filters through the thick, spartan curtains makes the ceiling glow pink. I lay waiting for… what? I wonder. I can’t reach my phone now. Did I make myself clear? I struggle to remember what I told him.

“I like to be used,” I had said.

“☺Well then, How soon can I use you?” He asked.

Though he’s a working professional, he happens to have the day off today. He lives in an apartment building full of old ladies. Despite his athletic figure, he’s a geek – his copy of the Exploding Kittens card game (adult edition) lies opened on a shelf, displayed with other techno gadgets. I imagine he works at Manulife, preparing reports. Each day he jokes at lunch with his colleagues, but they have no idea he’s gay.

It’s only on his day off that he can live out his desires. I know nothing about him. I know only that today, he desires me. Or, I frantically hope, my mouth. I made that clear. I think.

I hear him washing his hands and other parts in the adjoining bathroom. The sink turns off and I hear nothing. I can’t see him. I am facing the ceiling, head just off the side of the bed.

The floor under the plush carpet creaks under his footsteps as he approaches.

I see him now. He’s nude, ready. His chiselled body towers over me, eyes sweeping across my body. He sees my hard dick and smiles. He moves his hands to his cock. It’s purple tip already protrudes from his tan foreskin.

He reaches under my arms, grabs my armpits, powerfully pulls me into position. I open my mouth to clarify his intentions, but he slides his dick into it.

The taste hits me first. He didn’t wash well – thankfully – and I savour the strong flavor of his musk. I roll his hardening cock head around in my mouth, licking it off, and sigh in gratitude. He rocks back on his heals and his penis inflates in my mouth.

He finally pulls out and I see him looking down at me again. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah–”

He steadies himself and plunges in. From this angle his cock easily butts against the back of my throat. He quickly gets a rhythm going. I open my eyes. I can see the doorway and the darkened bathroom behind us. I can see his inner thighs. I can see the cleft of his ass between his legs. I feel his balls, shaved smooth, moist with sweat, draped over the bridge of my nose. I suck in a huge breath rife with his scent, and it makes me high.

He’s bent over me, hands on my rib cage, and spurned on by my obvious enjoyment he goes deeper. I’m being smothered by his testicles now, and I can only suck in quick breaths between even quicker thrusts. His penis presses in and snaps past my palette. I feel it deeply in me, and it fills my throat and airways, and I can no longer breathe.

I’m holding my breath, almost dizzy, trying to delay pushing him away. As a distraction, I grab my own cock, and feel its amazing hardness. The seconds tick by. I relax, trying to do anything but breathe. The blood in my ears is deafening, pounding like a waterfall. He fucks me, unaware or uncaring, and I feel every thrust go further toward my belly. I feel like I’m full, swallowing a python. I’m dizzy now. The lack of air makes me giddy. I suddenly realize I’m squeezing my dick and as I let go, I feel myself cumming, powerfully, blindly shooting thick ropes into space. I’m convinced it must have drenched him and his expensive sheets.

He’s stopped now, because I’ve shoved him away. I’m hyperventilating, sucking in sweet air, waiting for my ears to stop pounding.

Finally, I take a deep swimmer’s breath, lean my head back, reach around, and grab his ass with my hands, pulling him forward again.

He goes faster this time, making up for time lost. He presses down on my ribs with his hands while he fucks my mouth and throat. This time, he gives me brief pauses to suck quick breaths, and we’re able to go longer. How long? I’m still light headed. I don’t know. It feels like a half hour. We’re both sweating now and his balls, my face, and my hair are wet with the effort.

He pulls out now, lifts his cock over my face, stares into my eyes and jerks himself. I reach behind him and grab his ass, playing, fondling him, letting my fingers slip inside the slippery crack.

He stuffs his dick in and thrusts hard, and his whole body tenses. His hands are again on my ribs, crushing with his full weight, as he lifts his heels off the floor. His cock spasms and I feel his balls erupting into my throat. When he is done, he leaves it in, just standing there letting me suck him, so I can gently coax out and savour each delicious drop of his cum.

A long while later, he turns away, reaches for his underwear.

“That was amazing,” I rasp. “You delivered as promised.”

“It was fun. Thanks,” he says.

When we are dressed, he walks me to the elevator. He shakes my hand, as if we were at work colleagues and had just cemented a deal. Perhaps we have.

“Let me know your next day off.” I tell him.

“Yeah. it won’t be long.” he says, with a devilish gleam in his eye.

The old woman in the elevator looks at me suspiciously after the elevator doors close. I make plans to head to the Chapters book store to hang out and sip an iced latte. I’ve had my fill of cock for the day.

Or so I think. It is only lunchtime.

(to be continued – read part 2)

A Happy Hour

“I’ve done my homework. I’ve read everything you’ve written so far.”

The asian man sat beside me, one leg up on my king sized bed of the Hilton in Toronto. He’s small in stature, and wears a preppy checkered shirt. He looks young for a 34 year old, but he gazes at me with worldly confidence and readiness through his trendy square glasses.

“Do you write about every encounter?” he asks.

“Well, just the exciting ones, or ones with different settings. I don’t want to repeat myself too much. So you know what I like. But I don’t know anything about you. What do you like?”

“Well, you know a little,” he says. A few days before this, he’d followed me on Tumblr. He has a lot of interesting reposts of his own. “My tumblr is mostly fantasy. Things I haven’t been able to find a guy willing to do.”

“Oh?”

He stands up and sheds his shirt. “I found one of your stories in particular very interesting…” he pauses, perhaps hoping I’d get the message. My eyes beg him to go on. “First, I want to try pissing down your throat.”

I stare at him, trying to appear aghast but I can’t. Instead I start to laugh. “Oh yeah! There’s no good way to say that, is there?” I excitedly duck into the bathroom and grab a white towel, spread it on the floor beside the bed.

He steps out of his pants, revealing bright purple pouch briefs, the words “BLOW!” boldly stitched across the waistband. He tosses his glasses on top of his shirt on the suitcase stand, and I fall to my knees in front of him.

“You don’t want to use the tub?” he asks, fingers slipping inside his briefs.

“Nah, we’ll be fine.” I can’t imagine my new buddy being as big, or rough, as my Indian friend. That time, I did need a tub.

He pulls out his penis, thankfully still flaccid, and I gently wrap my mouth around it, trying not to touch it. He stares down at me, incredulously, for long moment before I feel his cock pulse and let out a small amount of hot liquid.

Unlike the two others I’ve done, he didn’t drink much before this, so I get the full flavour. It’s new to me. He watches me as I slosh it around my mouth, enjoying the taste – like a hoppy beer – and swallow.

“You like that?” he asks in amazement. “Have some more.”

Satisfied that I can take it, he relaxes and pisses. I let it tickle my tongue, slosh around my mouth, waiting to the last second to close my lips around it and swallow. I enjoy every moment of it as he empties himself into me, filling me, allowing me to be his vessel. Five gulps later, and it’s done. I’ve consumed it all, and the towel is dry.

I’m staring at his uncut penis. His whole body is shaved smooth. Even under his arms had no more than a day’s growth of stubble. His balls were smallish, hanging from under an impressively sized cock. As I lick, it grows revealing what would be an interesting quirk – a slight curve to the left. I pressed forward, eliciting a gasp when it enters my throat.

“Not too fast. I’ve got other plans for you tonight. I’m going to sit down.” He pulls out, and walks along the room the the office chair in front of the small desk, and plunked his naked butt into it, spinning it around to face me. Then he loops his arms around his legs and pulls them into the air. “Do you like rimming?” he asks, pointing his impossibly smooth anus up at me.

“I’ve done it once, it was fun,” I tell him. I kneel down in front of the chair and give him a doggy lick. But the chair is too low to the ground and I’m having trouble getting the right angle.

“Get on the bed,” he orders. “I’ll just sit on your face. You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

“Yes!” I quickly gather the hotel cards from the pillows, fling them against the wall, and lay down on my back. He gets on the bed and squats over my mouth. All I see are his balls, cock, and face staring at me intently, as he gingerly lowers his anus to my mouth. I poke up at it with my tongue, swirl up, and then press inside. I see an instant reaction on his face. This is fun.

He’s being too gentle, though. I reach up and pull his hips down, forcing him to smother my mouth with his ass. He gets the idea and lets down his weight, and I sink into the pillow-top mattress, as I trace circles around his pucker with my tongue.

By now his cock is a full 6” and the red head peeks out of its brown covers. He steps off onto the floor. “Slide over,” he tells me. “Lean your head off the bed.”

My heart flutters. Soon I”m staring up into his perineum, holding my mouth open. He slides in, gently at first.

“You OK?” he asks.

“Yes–” I start, muffled.

He grabs my arms and slowly pulls himself forward, all the way in, and holds it there. I feel my airways close up. He stands there with his dick in my throat, perfectly still as the seconds tick by. “When you need to breath, just tap me,” he says.

I give his left cheek two quick taps. He obliges, pulling out, and I suck in a swimmer’s breath.

This time, when he plunges forward, I feel his fingers lightly touching my throat. I imagine him there, grinning, fascinated by the distended outline of his own dick through my skin.

That’s when he starts to fuck. Ever so slightly, he nudges his cock back and forth a little. I concentrate on not vomiting. All I can do is stare through his inner thighs at the textured wallpaper behind him.

Just when I reach all I can take, he pulls out, and settles onto the middle of my bed, flat on his back, melting into the lucious pillows. “These are so comfy. Are you crying yet?” he asks, smiling.

“No I’m fine,” I tell him, quickly wiping the tears off my cheek.

I quickly get between his legs on my belly and engulf his penis between my lips. He lets out a slow, relaxed sigh. “Good boy,” he says. When I keep sucking, he stops me, grabs my chin and makes me look at him. “When I say ‘Good boy’, you then say ‘Thank-you sir.’ Do you understand?”
“Thank-you sir,” I tell him.

“You learn fast. That’s good.” He put his arms behind his head. “Now go get me a glass of water. I’m parched.”

I look around the room, for which I paid $209, and quickly find the glass. I tear off the plastic wrap and fill it with tap water in the bathroom sink.

I hear him call after me. “And hand me the remote. I’m going to watch some TV while you suck my dick. Would you like that?” He answers himself. “Yeah. I know you would, cocksucker.”

He’s cocky for sure. It excites me. I thought he’d be gone in 10 minutes, and I’d be able to catch some much needed sleep. But now I’m awake, excited by our time together. I grab the remote on the way back and offer it him. “Here you are, kind sir.” I only hope he doesn’t order costly porn.

I lay perpendicular to him now, my head on his belly, so I can see the TV a little and work his cock with my mouth at the same time. He ignores me, flipping channels.

The TV blasts out, “Scandal rocks Hollywood today– brewing in the middle east– For 30% of the company.” He settles on a rerun of Shark Tank. Nice, we have similar tastes.

We watch as the sharks eviscerate the business prospects of two women. As they argue, he starts to instruct me. “Put your tongue around the head,” he says. “Try it without your lips…. Lick the bottom of the foreskin.” He gives specific instructions of what he wants. “Good boy.”

Slurp. “Thank-you sir.”

He looks at me, eyes narrowing. “Now I want you to suck on my toes for a while,” he says.

What?

“Yeah,” he says, wiggling them at me. “Get down there and suck. And give me a foot rub.” He stares at me, or the TV, while I kneel on the floor in front of the bed. I cringe, thinking of foot fungus, but a moment later, I lock my eyes on his face, and suck on his big toe. It turns out that sucking appendages is a transferable skill, and I quickly get into it. I stare at his cock, projecting my intense hunger, as I do it.

“Do the other piggies too. They’re lonely,” he tells me, giving them a wiggle.

I do so, but after giving them equal time, I lunge forward onto my belly. I lick his perineum, then move down, pushing his legs up. “Oh yeah,” he says. He grabs a pillow, stuffs it under his lower back, and rolls his ass hole up to me once again. “Good boy. Lick my ass.”

“Thank-you sir.” I say, and I begin. He’s slick with my saliva, and I start to give it wet kisses, and soon I’m making out with his ass, sucking and flicking my tougue at it. A few minutes later, he gives out a low, guttural moan.

“Come here and look what you did,” he says. I get up on my arms and we stare at his cock. A spurt of precum has emerged. “Better not waste it,” he admonishes. I bend over him and lap it up.

I get beside him again, and rest my head on his belly button, and slowly suck on his slippery red cock head. On the flatscreen, the next set of entrepreneurs are almost done their pitch and I lose myself in the show for a while. I feel him slowly stroking my scalp.

During the commercials, he occasionally starts to thrust, holding my head in place. It is then that I see the advantage of his uniquely curved dick. From the side, it slides in perfectly and he;s able to fuck my throat with ease. He does this for only a few seconds, whenever the need arises, and then rests, leaving the work up to me.

He gives more instructions. “Use your hand to bring the foreskin up, get your tongue in between the skin and the head. Yeah, good boy,” he says.

“Thank you sir”

“Use your left hand to massage my balls. Oh yes,” he says, and lets out another low gutteral purr. “I can feel my cum building up. In a little while I’m going to cum down your throat. And in your mouth so you get to taste it all. You will love my sweet cum,” he says. My hands are doing the work most of the now, stroking, so I steal quick glances up at him. He’s not even watching the TV any more. He is in heaven, raw exctasy in his half closed eyes.

Suddenly he grabs my head, wrenching it away and off of him. He lets out a slow ragged breath. I stare into his eyes, and stretch my tongue out eagerly at his throbbing cock head. After a moment, I slowly start again, sticking my tongue in the slit, savouring the delicous salty flavour of his essense.

His control is impressive, and he starts to channel flip again while I suck. “How does your mouth feel?” He asks

“It’s very happy,” I tell him. The thought of it ending now is unbearable. I want to lay here, my head on his belly, sucking his dick, as long as I can, with him softly stroking my head and flipping through shows on my TV. And that’s what we do. I lose all track of time as I suck him, and stroke him. I’m interrupted only with the exciting moments when he grabs my head and mouth fucks me before relaxing again.

His low, purrs are getting more frequent now, and his demands that I slow down are getting weaker. “I’m so close, I can feel it,” he tells me. He strokes my scalp, sending shivers through my body. “You’ve definitely earned your reward. You should be proud. This is the longest blowjob I’ve ever had.”

More moans. His body is on fire now. “Let go of my balls, so I can get it in your throat when it’s time,” he says.He’s thrusting, doing the work now, and his moans get louder. “Get ready,” he says, and before the words are out, he explodes onto my tongue. He screams out, and I feel like the entire floor will hear him. He never stops thrusting, and one joyful hour’s worth of cum ends up down my throat and all throughout my mouth, like delicious salty caramel coating.

When he is done, he can’t ,or won’t move from his spot in the centre of my bed, so I lay on my side and slowly caress his chest and abdomen, over and over. We spend many minutes like this. I’m addicted to the feeling of the hard muscles with barely any covering.

“Are you going to write about that?” he asks, eyes hopeful. “I tried to make new and different for you.”

I grin, as I realize who was the real master today. “Absolutely.”

Fetish II: Desperation

“God I need to pee really bad. I am holding it for you.” The words flash across the Tumblr app.

The day after I posted my first pee story on my blog, a local guy told me he was “into that” and invited me over for some fun. I had been with him before, but since he had a new boyfriend, he had deleted his Grindr account. Instead, he has been sending me direct messages on Tumblr.

I told him I wanted him to be desperate. He agreed to do whatever I said, so I had him drinking all morning. It’s almost lunch now, and I want to find how long he can hold it. The idea excites me, and I stroke myself as I text him.

“Is your room-mate gone?” I ask. “Should I come over now?”

He responds instantly. “Better be here by 11:45.”

I check Google maps, which informs me that the earliest I can be there is noon.

“No problem!” I write back. I take my time getting ready. I have a glass of water, and take a long sit-down piss while I read some news sites. It’s nearly 11:40 by the time I settle into my car and prepare to drive across town.

I decide to take King street.

Who would have thought there’d be so many stoplights? And what is with all that construction, holy fuck! At one of the many stops, my phone thumps on the seat beside me.

“I need to pee baaaad”.

“Driving!” I manage to type back. Traffic is starting to slow down as the lunch hour approaches. As I slowly make progress across town, the messages keep coming.

“Guy in a sweater out front. Wait for him to leave. If he’s not there BUZZ IN.”

“OK he left. Hurryyyy”

“OMG”

It’s 12:15 by the time I pull up and find a parking space. An old lady lets me in, and I wait for the elevator to his apartment. I’m not sure what to expect, or even if I can handle what I’m going to do. I took piss once before, but there wasn’t much. This time there will be more. Plus, I know this guy is aggressive. A regular Jian Ghomeshi. I never know what I’m going to get with him. Fuck, what if it reeks of curry?

The young, black haired Indian man answers the door. He’s wearing nothing but a house coat, and his brown eyes are wild. “Get in,” he tells me.

“Sorry, traffic,” I tell him. I kneel down and slowly untie my boots. When I look up he’s shed his housecoat and he’s already hobbling down the hall to the washroom. His body is thin and beautiful. He has a tall, narrow torso. His ass is perfectly round and tan, nearly hairless. He turns and waits for me in the washroom.

“We’ll use the bathtub,” he says.

“I don’t think I’ll need it, but sure.” I’m cocky after last time, when I didn’t spill a drop in the campus restroom. My host paces like a caged lion as I methodically unlatch my belt buckle and strip to my underwear. I step into the tub gingerly. Like the rest of the bathroom, the bathtub has seen better days. Once white, now it’s scratched and stained with years of use. I get in and kneel down on its rough worn enamel surface.

From across the bathroom, he bounds into the tub with me, holding his penis. It’s flaccid, maybe about four inches. Velvety brown foreskin hides it. He pulls some back, revealing the pinkness inside.

“I have to pee so baa–”

The exact instant I put my mouth over it, he gasps and the stream starts with full force. My mouth fills in seconds and I swallow a big gulp of his piss. My strategy of getting him to drink worked well. Once again, it’s mostly water, and so light tasting, it quenches my thirst. It’s no different from a bottle of Evian, and I eagerly gulp it down. He holds my shoulders, sighs with relief, and puts his leg up on the side of the tub, as I drink mouthful after mouthful of the refreshing liquid.

I start to suck, move my mouth along its length, and he hardens, still pissing. This time, I have a secret agenda. It is possible, I read on the Internet, to deep throat a pissing cock. If this is done, it will feel as if you are filling up without any effort as he empties himself down your throat.

Alas, I manage to get him into my throat, but he winces and strains. Finally he pulls out, holds his cock in his hands. It’s fully eight inches now, and the pink glans bulges, pulsing as he strains. “FUCK! I still gotta go. But it’s not happening.”

Oops.

I look up at him innocently. “Well, you’ll just have to cum down my throat so you can give me the rest!” I offer.

He stares down at me, and I have no idea what he’s thinking. I’m suddenly afraid. Shit, he does look like a terrorist, so calm, but about to explode in anger.

Something in him snaps, as if he’s come to a decision. A cryptic smile spreads across his face. He puts his hands on my shoulders again, and slowly pushes me backwards.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Wordlessly, he spins me around so my back is against the cold tiled wall.

“Call me master.” He tells me, eyes ablaze.

“Master,” I say, genuinely afraid by his expression. “Please, feed me your cum and piss down my throat.”

He then guides his penis into my mouth. But then without warning, he drives the rest of the way in. My head slams back against the tile. He then fucks my throat, mercilessly. Moments later, I try to breath and realize with growing panic that I can’t. I don’t have much air left. I want to shove him off, but instead, I give him too quick taps on his hip, praying that he gets the message.

Thankfully, he pulls out, a string of thick mucous dripping off his dick. “Master, please,” I gasp, ”Just let me take a deep breath.” I suck in a chest full of air like I’m about to dive in a pool. An instant later he’s back in again. He goes longer this time, and manages to get all the way down. My forehead is driving into his abdomen.

Involuntarily, without warning, I push him off with my full strength. I cough and a gob, too big to be mucous, lands on the bathtub floor. I recognize my morning coffee, the brown tendrils slowly reaching toward the drain. Not much, but I’m embarrassed and disgusted.

He looks down at me with disdain. “Clean that up,” he orders. I flip on the bathtub and splash the thing away down the drain.

“Good boy. Now clean it up.” He shoves his dick in my mouth and I slurp the mess off for him. As soon as I’m done he grips my shoulders starts fucking my throat again.

I’m beginning to wonder if it’s worth it. Getting throat fucked is sexy as hell for the first 30 seconds or so, but it is not a comfortable thing to have the protective layer of mucous scraped out of your esophagus. My eyes are watering. Why do I keep coming back to him?

Finally, he pulls out and strokes himself, quickly. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Master, I’m so hungry, please feed me your cum.” I see his balls, dark as chocolate, facing me and I lean forward and take them into my mouth, slowly sucking on them one at a time, and then together while he strokes.

“OK,” he says, lowering his cock. I stare directly into his pink glans. “Uh… UUNGH!” I see a small explosion of white, and the world goes blurry because he fucking shoots me right in the eye. He manages to get the rest in my open mouth, but I’m wincing, wiping my eyeball with the back of my hand. His body stiffens, and he moans again as he extends his arms over my head against the tiles. His cock bulges and pumps my mouth full of his sperm.

Suddenly he topples backwards, and with a thump, lands on floor. Then there’s silence.

I’m shocked. What the fuck happened. He just sits there on the bathroom carpet, expressionless, staring into his knees. I worry that he’s having a seizure. I have no idea what to do. How am I going to explain this? My mind races. I decide if I’m going to call 911 I’ll use his phone..

“Uh, hey, are you OK?” I ask.

He stirs. “Yeah, that was just.. Intense.” He gets up slowly, grabs a towel, and wipes his dick off, while I stare at his body.

I get up and reach for the towel. He stops me, moves in front of me.

“I still gotta pee. If want it, open up. Or don’t, I don’t care.” He aims his dick at my face and I’m staring right at his pink piss hole.

Thinking quickly, I decide to drink it down so I won’t need to shower.

His whole body relaxes. “Oh my god, that’s so much better,” he says as he empties himself into me. I easily keep up and start to suck it out of him. It’s like a thick soft gooshy straw. He moans. “Aaaah, you have no idea–”

When all is over and I’m getting dressed, he tells me, “You can write about this, but don’t put in any details. Like don’t even mention I have a cat… cause I have a boyfriend now.”

“I know. Don’t worry.” Confidentiality is of the utmost importance!

Back in my car, I wince and examine my left eye in the rear view mirror. Angry red veins course through it like a map of London. I Google for “cum in eye” and I learn that it can sting for a while. It is possible to get an infection of chlamydia or gonorrhoea local to the eye. Fuck. Thankfully, a couple hours later I’m fine.

I promise this will be my last fetish story for a while. And sorry for the rushed ending, but I have to go now. Real bad.