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This is a work of fiction; people, places, and events are all made up by me.
This is, at times, a adult piece of fiction, and includes adult situations, language, occasionally hot sex, and romance/love. If you aren't at the appropriate age for your location to be reading this stuff, you've got a couple of options: 1) Bookmark it with a date of your legal “adult” birthday, and read it then; or 2) Move to a new location where you ARE legal. Regardless of which option you select, you need to go ahead and leave the site now.
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Your mileage may vary.
Whew! Hate that required stuff, but it's there for a reason.
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Now, on to the story.....
Joe The Welder
After several hot, and sometimes public makeout sessions, a nice Sunday morn of hot sex, public recognition of us as an item, and several weeks since first meeting, we're finally doing a date?
Definitely not a typical approach.
Joe arrived at 7, complete with a 6-pack of Miller beer, and flowers, in cargo shorts, t-shirt, and sneakers, just like me. Grinning big, and cheeks flushed, “I thought it'd be a good way to start a date.”
The grin had to have hurt—Joe was sporting a nice shiner. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Brandon stopped by last night at the house, wanted to talk with his fist. He got more than I did, but probably didn't know it till this mornin', he was drunk.”
“Ok.” Brandon isn't letting this go.
Threw a couple of new york strip steaks on the grill to join the potatoes that were baking. We had a salad and made small talk while waiting on the steaks.
Small talk continued over steaks, and several beers each. When we'd finished, Joe picked up his plate and utensils, and headed to the kitchen sink, me in lockstep behind him.
He was talking about some project at the job as he put the dishes in the sink when I leaned into him, pinning him in place between me and the counter. I started lightly kissing his neck, nibbling his ear, sucking on his earlobe and blowing it. One of my hands was on his chest, playing with his nipple thru the tshirt. “How am I doing, baby”, I mentioned after a few minutes of grinding my crotch against his ass and continuing my nibbles and tit work.
“Damn, man, feels sooooo good.”
“You trust me, Joe? I wanna make ya feel really good. I wanna get you off. I want you to fly. You trust me? Gonna do whatever I tell ya to do?”
“Anything you want.” A little breathless. A little whispered. A little shakey. “Sir.”
I spun him around, and we kissed hard, tongues battling it out for a minute or so, Joe turning to putty. He and I were both gasping as the kiss ended. Grabbed his hand and let him to my bedroom.
“Strip, boy. NOW.”
Within seconds, Joe was standing totally naked, cock chubbed to ¾ or more size. Foreskin not quite fully retracted. Precum hanging by a thread on the tip of his dick. Yeah, he's ready.
“Just stand there for a minute. Let me enjoy.”
I circled his body, caressing and touching him. Playing with each nipple as I passed. Jiggling his balls in their now shaved sack. (He'd obviously noticed mine.) Running my fingertips from the base of his spine all the way up to his hairline in a just-barely-touching caress. Teasing between his cheeks just above his hole. He's shaking as though chilled—and the fun hasn't started.
“You said you trusted me, boy. I believe ya. Now close your eyes.”
At this point, I slipped a sleepmask over his eyes, making sure it was in place. His cock pulsed.
“Don't touch that mask, Joe. There's more. Still trust me?”
My assessment of him as a sub was correct. And now that he can't see, I touch more, fingertips along collarbone, lifting his arms slightly and tracing down from armpit to hip, fingers running up treasure trail from crotch to the flare of fur over his chest, with my hands ending up at each nipple, fingernails flicking over the hardened nubs of his chest. A groan escapes him, and one giant chill/shake starts from his toes and moves up. Goosebumps form.
“Follow me, Joe.” I lead him to the bed. He'd not had time to notice the restraints there. Running underneath the mattress, ending on each side of the bed, his arms would be butterflied in place over his head. And, because they're industrial Velcro, they went on each of his wrists before he knew. His legs were free, but arms and eyes secure.
“Here's what's gonna happen, Joe. I'm in charge of you and your orgasm tonight. I'm gonna do a bunch of things—but when, or if, I let you cum will be my call. Hope you're prepared for a long night on the edge!”
He groaned. And his cock was already at full mast and pulsing.
First things first, a cockring went on. Thank god I'd gotten a leather strap with snaps to cinch down tight. “Now your cock will stay where it is, or maybe even get a little harder.”
I leaned forward and licked his right nipple, sucked it, then lightly bit. He squirmed, sighed, and whispered “again”. It was beautiful. Of course, I did it again.
Same treatment to the left nipple. Same response, but this time, “please, Sir, harder, Sir”. Damn hot.
I moved up to kiss him. Blindfolded he was off-guard, but hungrily received my tongue. His bulging cock had leaked a pool of precum on his belly, and was harder than I'd seen, and his foreskin fully retracted. Balls pulled up close. Yeah, he's into this.
I moved off the side of the bed, and stood quietly for a few seconds, shedding my clothes as well. Joe thrashed for a moment, then laid still. The anticipation was doing a number on his head, and his cock looked as though it'd shoot any second.
I'd prepared in advance, and had a couple of play things in the open space beneath the night table. I was totally silent in my movements, so he'd never know where or when I'd touch again.
When the tip of the feather touched Joe's right foot, swear to God he'd screamed. Totally surprised. Good!
The tip of the feather running from his left ear along his jaw line to his chin brought a sudden intake of air.
I explored a variety of spots on his body. Joe let out an occasional sound but managed to stay pretty much in place, even if a light sheen of sweat was showing on his chest. The constant flexing of his hands from wide open to clinched fists showed I was getting to him better than anything he could have said. Ditto his rock hard dick and balls pulled up tightly against his body.
If he'd though I was done, the revelation of the feather tip touching the tip of his nipple threw the thought of that ending aside. He yelled, and acted as though I'd used electro on him there. Muscles tensed, damn near orgasmic just from the feather brushing against the swollen nipple point. “Oh-my-God-stop-it's-to-much-motherfucker-if-you-stop-i'll-die-you-gotta-let-me-cum.” All in one breath, straining against the arm restraints.
My next target was the other nipple; pretty much the same response. His voice is starting to get hoarse from the constant begging.
He had no way to know I was enjoying myself, too. My hard cock was at full mast, and I'd give it an occasional stroke. Just enough to feel good. I was gonna use it on Joe later.
He had no way to know that I'd twisted around, and ran the feather tip up the divide between his balls and up the length of his cock, to his frenulum. That little tip of ultra-sensitive skin was pulled back so taughtly between his foreskin and his cockhead that it almost looked like a string. Each swipe across it with the feather brought a gasp, almost like a sob, and a rush of air into Joe's chest.
I worked on that spot multiple times, each time with Joe begging to come, begging for me to stop, crying it was too much, loudly announcing he was about to cum. I stopped for a 10 count. No cumming for him yet.
After he'd calmed down a bit, the feather went down even lower, and began teasing his hole. If I'd thought the action on his tits or cock was intense for him, the effect of the light brushing on his hole was light years past that. Joe froze. I thought he'd had a heart attack.
Then, “Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-fuck-oh-my-god-damn-oh-my-god-shit-oh-my-god” in a mantra that continued with every swipe of the feather on or around his hole.
I kept it up for a few minutes, Joe trying not to twist and squirm but failing, his cock turning beet red, his body tense, and the hair on his chest suddenly matted with sweat.
And then I stopped. We'd been at it 45 minutes.
“I know you're thirsty, so I'm gonna get you some water, boy. Be right back. You just lie here and think about the fun that lies ahead.” A stiffled sob came from Joe as I said it. Glad it was over? Wanting more? Both, I think.
“Here's something to help you relax, Joe.” I put a few drops of ultraslick silicone lube on my fingertips, and applied it liberally to his hole. His sob turned into a purr as I stroked over and around his pucker. I grabbed the unique dildo I'd seen at the toy place yesterday, lubed the tip of it, placed it with the tip just barely touching/inside his hole—then turned it on. The tip of the fake dick began to rotate in circles, while the body vibrated. Joe didn't know whether to shit, die, or go blind. But, he obviously was damn near insane with the sensations.
I left, got a large glass of water with ice and a straw for him, and a glass for me, too. I sat in the kitchen for a few minutes to cool down, but my cock stayed hard, even as I smoked a cig standing at the back door. (I almost never smoke in the house, but this IS a special occasion.)
Grabbing his glass after finishing the smoke, I headed back to the bedroom. Figured the dildo had tenderized his hole enough that now was the time I'd fuck him. I walked as quietly as possible, since I didn't want Joe to know I was in the room yet.
The scene in the bedroom showed a Joe not just ready to get fucked—he was fucking himself with the dildo! Spreading his legs wide, and using his feet, he'd managed to shove the dildo full length inside himself. His back was arched off the bed, and the hum of the dildo showed it was turning his guts into sensitive mush.
I quietly walked over to the bed, put the glass down, stroked my dick a few times, then reached over and slid just my fingertips down from the head of Joe's cock and it's constantly flowing precum to his balls. Damnit, just one stroke. Joe's back arched even higher, a low earthquake rumble began in his belly, and got louder. I'd forgotten about Joe's quick trigger—he was cumming!
I jacked myself hard and fast as he shot his load, bullets of cum landing on his face, his chest, one even on his nipple, and a series of smaller shots on his belly. I yanked the cock strap free as he finished his cum, and I started mine. My cum fired across his face, and mixed with the hair on his chest. We were both breathing hard.
I removed the dildo from his ass, turned it off, and laid it aside. I undid the restraints around Joe's wrists, pulled the sleep mask off, and we curled up together in afterglow.
I'd honestly thought Joe had gone to sleep, his breathing was that deep and regular, when he softly spoke, “That was the best cum I've ever had. Thanks for doing all that for me.” And then the bastard looked up at me, tears running down his face.
“No one's ever cared for me like that before. I.....I....”
I pulled him into a kiss, and we cuddled together until both of us fell asleep.
Yeah, I did fuck him later that night. Yeah, it was every bit as good as we both hoped it would be. Yeah, he spent the night. Yeah, we did it again the next morning. Yes, it was just the start. And when I said just that to him the next morning, “ding, ding, ding” went off in my head, my spidey-sense confirming it.
(Chapter 6 next week)