Date: Sun, 11 Oct 2020 12:08:47 -0400
From: eric jones <joneseral@gmail.com>
Subject: Spring Blackout (gay:interr/author)

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* This is a work of fiction.  My experiences and likes influence all
my writing, so there might be a nugget or two of truth somewhere
within, but don't worry, it's carefully hidden...  Any similarity with
actual people or places is entirely coincidental.

* This story involves interracial sex between adult men.  There is a
lot of crude stereotyping, role play, nasty and demeaning language and
other things that might be called kinky or just plain ignorant.  If
any of this offends you, please leave now.

* If you are underage or if reading this is illegal where you are for
any reason, please leave now.

* Your feedback is welcome and appreciated.

------------------------------------------


SPRING BLACKOUT:  Two Regulars and the Surprise that Made the Night, Twice!

It was one of the first few warm days of the season. I already knew it
was going to be a fun evening. Before I even left work I had a text
from a regular hookup asking those general questions - the kind that
let you know eventually you're going to be hooking up. I guess you
could say it was the hook up or fuck-buddy version of a "flirty"
conversation, the kind that starts relatively clean and vague but
ultimately and predictably ends up with a proposition.

I knew he wouldn't be available until after 9. I knew that on his
nights off he went to the gym, so when he was looking to score he
wanted to do it fresh from a workout - and fortunately for me, fresh
from the gym shower!

Right before I left work I had another text from a different regular
asking about something quick. Quick for him means after work on his
way home to his wife and kids. So that meant 6 or 7 pm at the latest.
I had plenty of time to hook up with him and then get myself ready for
the other regular after 9. A busy night already, but imminently
doable.

Now two guys in one night - only a few hours apart - might seem like a
bit much. But not for me. Let's be frank: I'm a whore. A slut. A black
cock slut. A cocksucker. There's no point in beating around the bush,
no pun intended. I came to terms with my reality years ago. The
thought of servicing two black dicks in one night wasn't an exhausting
thought, it was an exciting one. As soon as the second regular hit me
up for a quick hit on his way home from work, the night was already
looking up.

I knew the first hookup, the early evening encounter, wouldn't take
long. I've been hooking up with this dude long enough to know that
five minutes of head is a stretch for him. Typically he goes from the
driveway to out the door in under ten minutes. It doesn't take long,
but it gets the job done for us both. It's an easy way to get some cum
and he gets to bust that nut.

But what made this spring night so memorable wasn't the regulars. I
will remember this night forever because of the surprise. More on that
later...

Before we go any further, let's introduce the players. The first guy
to hit me up, the one I knew would be looking for something after 9
pm, I call him Dom. He calls me Sub. That tells you a lot from the
start. His real name is Darnell. I only know this because unlike most
random online hookups, he used an email address that made it rather
easy to figure out. I've never understood why some people do that. For
random hookups, it just seems like such a risk... Anyway, I've been
hooking up with Dom for three or four years. We talked online
extensively and the only thing preventing us from meeting up earlier
was lack of a spot. I don't really bring randoms home for hookups,
either because of roommates or more often because of the risk. He said
he was a dominant bi black man just looking for head, so if he looked
decent I knew we would get along. Our first meeting set the stage for
plenty of future hookups. We were in the woods next to a deserted
satellite parking lot for the State Fair. It was late night, in dark
woods, and he fucked my face with some authority. I didn't even care
about my knees in the damp forest floor that night. All I could do was
focus on breathing. With a first meeting like that, with a guy who's
not shy about being a real man, I just know we're going to end up
seeing each other again.

I don't hook up with Dom all that often. He's "straight" and has
either a long term girlfriend or fiancé so I don't think he needs to
look for a release all that often. But I've said "no" to him more
times than most of my regulars through the years. Although I love the
dominant swagger and I don't mind gagging on some dick, Dom takes
things to extremes. A lot of times it's not so much a blow job as a
struggle not to throw up. And not just for a while, but the whole
time. He doesn't like to get rimmed and he's not all that thrilled
with getting his balls licked. Nothing kinky, like getting his ass
eaten, which for me was always an enjoyable break in the action and a
chance to catch my breath. It's about deep throat from the jump. His
dick isn't huge - I'm guessing 7 inches - but it has a wicked curve to
the side about midway. He knows how to take advantage of that curve,
and he knows - and enjoys - how hard it can be on a throat.

It may sound silly to my fellow cocksuckers, but I've said "no" to him
just because of how hard I have to work. I've been with some truly
thugged-out dudes over the years, but Dom is the only guy I can
honestly say I'm afraid of hooking up with. My mouth isn't just a hole
he enjoys using, it's a hole he's trying to punish. Period! As much as
I love to sub out for a masculine guy, Dom is just too much.
Sometimes...

So I put him off. I put him off for months. Eventually I give in and
end up getting my throat plowed like a field. I'm a whore, so I can
only go so long saying "no" to a black dick that's trying to get in.
After a few weeks of talking again, I had agreed to meet him tonight.
He's a smart, professional guy, and he's no jerk. He wondered why I
kept putting him off or not responding, and I figured since we were
conversing (which is RARE for a hookup in my experience...) I might as
well tell him the truth. He had agreed to take it easy on me, to
basically let me run the show with only the occasional gags and
aggression. I was ready. If he can keep his word...

The second guy is the very definition of a regular. He's a petite
dark-skinned black guy with dreadlocks that, rather unoriginally, I
call Dreads. His real name is Will, which I guess is short for
William. I only know that because of some drunk moments when he got me
to say his name in the middle of a session. I doubt he even remembers
telling me, and since it's not really necessary to use names I've
never brought it up. Dreads sounds better anyway.

This guy can cum in a flash. I've sucked him literally hundreds of
times over like 7 or 8 years. Some of our hookups last literally 10
minutes or less. Our long sessions are years in the past, before he
was married with kids, when he would stop by after leaving the bar and
was too drunk to cum. That's when his Napoleon complex comes out, and
he gets kinky and demanding. If it wasn't for his nasty, kinky side I
would have dropped him years ago.

He has a decent dick, about 7 again, but pleasantly thick. His big
passions are 1) giving orders and 2) getting rimmed. I've eaten his
ass for an hour before, maybe longer. He tells me what to do and likes
me to respond immediately. He tells me when to start sucking and when
to stop and when to eat his ass and when to stop. As a dominant perv
he likes all the usual ways to show his domination like getting me to
suck his toes and pulling my hair.

We've done it all from public sex in parking lots and golf courses to
him toe-fucking my ass while I was blowing him, and me wearing his
girlfriend's panties. He's even roughed me up a few times, with light
slapping and tossing me around. That's funny when you realize I'm
almost two feet taller than him and weigh twice what he does. We've
hooked up for so long we're like an old married couple. His dick feels
at home in my throat and he smells and tastes familiar, comfortable.

The final player this evening will remain a surprise for now, just as
it was for me that night.

ROUND ONE

So Dreads sent a text that he was running late and would be at my
place around 6:30. I wasn't in a big hurry, so it didn't matter. He
wouldn't really have cared anyway. One of the odd truths I've
discovered over the years is that men don't care about making a
cocksucker wait. I think it's part of the game. It was closer to 7 pm
before he actually arrived. After all the years I know how to set the
scene, so I darkened the room and had interracial boy-girl porn
playing on the TV. He likes the traditional interracial hetero porn,
with hung black guys pounding the hell out of little blond girls. Who
doesn't love that, though?

I had the door unlocked and the porn playing when he sent the text
that he was in the neighborhood. I was on my knees waiting for him
when he arrived. He always wants me already on my knees, waiting. Even
with the lights off, there was still a fair amount of fading light
coming through the closed blinds. I heard him pull in and heard the
door open. Being a cocksucker who wears glasses, I knew to have those
off before we started. Glasses don't tend to work well when you're
giving head. He opens the door and even with my glasses off I can see
him enter. I thought I noticed a second figure come in, but blinked a
couple of times and tried to make sure I wasn't imagining things in
the dim light. But I wasn't imagining shit. Dreads had someone with
him.

My heart leapt and I'm sure I panicked. He had tempted and teased me
about bringing one of his "boys" with him for years, but I always
assumed he did that to get my keyed up. A couple of times I agreed to
service him and one of his friends after some late-night texting, but
in the end it was always Dreads alone who showed up. I never thought
he would actually bring a friend along, and I certainly never thought
he would do it without telling me about it beforehand.

I think I momentarily wondered if I was in danger. That thought would
have disappeared quickly, since it wouldn't take long to realize that
Dreads wasn't likely to let anything bad go down. He's married and has
kids, and we've been messing around for more years than most people
manage to stay married these days, so if he was a threat I think I
would have picked up on it before now.

But what the fuck!? Who was this dude? I'm on my knees in my own dark
living room and can't even see him clearly. I was hardly in a position
of power. In the end it worked out fine. It worked out better than
fine.

Dreads spoke up quickly. "This is my boy. He wants some head. Me first."

No explanation. No asking if it was cool with me. He just told me what
they wanted.

I was still on my knees. I hadn't jumped up. I hadn't said anything. I
just stayed on my knees. Silence is acceptance.

Dreads walked over to me, first dropping his keys and phone on the
ground by my couch. He then unfastened his jeans and pulled his pants
and boxers down to his ankles in one motion. He was inches from me,
and I felt one of his thick dreads hit the top of my head as he bent
down to work his pants and boxers to the floor. I had my mouth open
already and he moved forward and directed his dick into my mouth with
his hand. Fortunately sucking comes naturally to me now, so I didn't
really have to concentrate on what I was doing. My mind was focused on
this other dude. He was near the door, behind Dreads, so from my
current vantage point I couldn't really see him. All I could see was
pubic hair and Dread's coal black skin.

When a guy has his dick in your mouth, no matter how short or petite
he might be, he still fills your whole frame of view. Ordinarily I
wouldn't care - that's the way it's supposed to be. But tonight, there
was this other man in the room. And I couldn't help but think of him.

As usual when he's sober, Dreads was fully hard and pointing straight
within seconds. He has a nice, mouth-filling width. Since I know
Dreads can cum so quickly, I didn't use any special techniques with my
lips or tongue. With him, I do what I can to slow it down. It's just
me sliding my mouth up and down his dick with loose lip contact and my
tongue across the bottom of his shaft. No matter how slowly or easily
you're trying to suck a dick, it just doesn't feel right to not tongue
it along the bottom. Every dick deserves the tongue, as I always say.

In less than a minute I see Dreads stomach started to tense up and he
starts to back off. I think a dude's stomach or belly area can be so
sexy, and from the cocksucking stance there's not a hell of a lot to
look at, so when my eyes are open I'm looking at his tummy.

He gives me his first command of the evening, something I've heard so
many times before: "Don't suck, just hold it in your mouth."

I freeze, even making sure my breathing is slow and calm. I know he's
trying not to nut, and with only a minute on the pole I'm perfectly
willing to cooperate.

I hear the dude moving in our direction. He walks past us and I can
hear and sense him behind me. As he passes I can hardly see a thing.
All I saw was a shadow out of the corner of my eye. I can smell him
though. It's a strong but common cologne. And he's wearing a lot of
it. It wasn't a scent that would make you remember a person. It was
that kind of scent that you can't help but notice but quickly forget.

Dreads started to move slowly in and out of my mouth. I was still
holding steady, not licking or sucking at all. He was controlling the
pace by moving his body forward and back.
I hear the other dude sitting in my chair behind me. Although I have a
dick in my mouth, something about that pisses me off. Although I have
to admit there was really nowhere else to sit in the room. All the
other chairs had stuff piled in them, and even the other end of the
couch had a big stack of pillows filling the space. But still this
stranger just showed up to get some head, hadn't said a word, hadn't
been introduced and still he had the balls to walk over and plop down
in my recliner. It irritated me that he had the balls to make himself
so comfortable in my house. I know he was confident because he had to
walk right past us to get to the chair. Had it been me, I would have
quietly stood right back there by the door. This dude just made
himself at home.

Truth be told he gave himself a better view. From my recliner he could
see Dread's standing there and me on my knees. I have no idea if he
and Dreads were looking at each other. It might have been too dark in
the room. But it didn't talk long for Dreads to switch up the game a
little.

He started to put on a little show. He pulled his dick quickly from my
mouth, and my lips made a quiet popping sound after the fast
evacuation. He barked for me "Open your mouth." When I did he slid his
dick back in. As he did I felt him lean his head back and he groaned
"Fuck!" He was a little too loud, so I knew it was a little bit for
show. "Open your mouth and keep it fuckin open," he growled, this time
not as loud but with a little artificial gruffness. He was playing the
Big Daddy role. I did as I was told and opened my mouth wide, covered
my teeth with my lips as best I could and waited. I didn't have to
wait long. He jabbed his dick all the way in my mouth. His dickhead
slid across the top of my mouth and just barely started the curve down
to my throat. I had prepared myself for what I suspected was coming,
so although I pulled back just a bit at his attack I didn't gag. He
pulled out quickly and slammed it back in again. He was leaning
forward as he did this, so he was just using his forward momentum to
make the strike. He didn't have hands on my head to hold me in place
or pull me towards him, so I was able to flex my body and move
slightly to prevent gagging. If Dreads had been any other dude we
could have kept up this pace for minutes. But he would have busted in
30 seconds usually so I knew it wouldn't last.

He pulled out, grabbed a handful of my hair and pushed me down under
his dick. "Lick my fuckin balls," he said roughly.

He never really talked quite that roughly when he was sober, so again
the show continued. I did as I was told and licked and sucked his
balls, one after the other and then sucked them both at the same time.
He had a small ballsack, close to his body. It was easy to get them
both in my mouth.

"Oh, Bitch, suck those balls.... Damn." This time he sounded more in
ecstasy than in charge. I think he heard himself, so again he switched
up the game.

He grabbed another handful of my hair and tilted my head so I was
looking up at him. He looked down at me and told me to open my mouth
and stick out my tongue. I did as I was told, and he stabbed my throat
a half dozen times. This time he kept a handful of my hair in his grip
so he breached my throat and made an audible slap each time his crotch
crashed into my face. He grunted a "yeah!" each time he bottomed out.
It was that nasty, sneering "yeah" from porn movies or from a gun
range after you fire off a round. It wasn't a happy "yeah." It was a
I'm-A-Big-Billy-Badass "yeah!" to emphasize each time his dick was
planted.

I had been hooking up with Dreads long enough to know that this little
short, dark motherfucker probably had all kinds of inferiority
complexes. When he was being blown, when he was being obeyed, when he
was holding me in check with just his dick -then he felt like a king.
He had been coming back for years, and could have just been jacking
off. It was more than just friction. More than just a nut. It was
having me on my knees with his dick where it didn't belong that made
it a thrill for him. He would go through a lot of trouble to arrange a
hookup only to have some of them end in 5 minutes. He was getting more
than a nut.

And tonight he had an audience. Some friend of his that was watching
him punk me down. I didn't know his name and he didn't know mine. He
was in my house, in my chair, watching me get ordered around with
another man's balls in my mouth. And the new dude wasn't making a
sound. I wanted to turn around and look at him. But I didn't abandon
my post. At that moment I was Dreads' cocksucker and it was all about
him. And secretly I knew, as I always knew, that it wasn't going to
take him that much longer.
I just held my mouth open and let Dreads control the pace. I knew he
could keep it going longer that way, and I correctly guessed that he
wanted it to go on as long as possible.
As he started to get a little closer to the edge, he backed off again.
He was breathing harder and just had the head of his dick resting on
my tongue. I was perfectly still, not even swallowing.

I heard the rustle of leather as the other dude shifted in the
recliner behind me. He was being very quiet though.

Dreads held his dick up against his belly and barked "Balls." I
obediently started working on his balls again. This time licking more
slowly, making sure I hit the whole area around the base of his dick
and balls. Since we were not in a hurry, I wanted to explore a bit and
knew he wasn't going to complain. I went at it for a few minutes like
that, with him grunting out a rather steady stream of nasty words. In
no particular order he either panted or grunted or yelled out "bitch"
or "suck that dick" or "lick my balls." Bitch was definitely the most
common word, and seemed to come out of his mouth every 15 seconds or
so.

I heard the surprise dude shift around in the chair again. I wondered
if he was enjoying the show.

Dreads told me to get back on his dick and I started sucking him off.
I was going slow, but this time he stood still so I was controlling
the pace. I was careful not to go too fast or apply too much pressure.
I was hoping to make it last at least a couple more minutes. He kept
one of his hands on the back of my head, but it was just for show.
Like any two people that have been fucking around for years, I knew
what he wanted and he trusted me. There were a couple more "fucking
bitch" and "yeah, suck that black dick" but I was controlling the
blowjob. He made it sound and look like he was in charge. He wanted to
look like a boss in front of his bud, and at that moment I wanted him
to look like one too. We were performing for his friend.

I had been pretty quiet and kept my hands idle so far. It was time for
me to start playing the bitch. I started moaning and making a little
more slurping noise with my mouth. I knew he was going to bust a nut
soon so we had to make the grand finale worth watching. I started
rubbing up and down his thighs and ass and over his stomach and up his
chest. It was the hand movements of someone worshipping another. And I
really played it up. With my hands roaming every inch of his body, his
dick in my mouth and me moaning like a girl in heat, I was playing the
cocksucker role to a T.

He put both hands on my head and just rested them there. He started
moaning "suck my dick" over and over again. He wasn't going deep in my
throat so when he started to cum I tasted it immediately. He didn't
change his "suck my dick" chant so I kept sucking. He shot maybe three
or four loads and I swallowed them without missing a beat or changing
my pace. Normally when he cums he immediately tells me to stop, so I
knew this was part of the show. I felt his dick start to get soft
immediately so I picked up the moaning and grabbed his ass with both
hands and started to look like I was deepthroating him. He kept his
hands on my head, but he was done. After another thirty seconds of
acting, he said "OK" and pulled back. We had put on a good show
together.

I sat back and caught my breath. I watched Dreads pull up his boxers
and jeans and grab his possessions. I wanted to look at the other dude
who was sitting just inches behind me, but somehow it didn't feel
right to turn and look his way.  Not now.

Dreads checked his phone and without looking at either of us said,
"It's your turn."

Neither the other dude nor me moved for like 10 seconds. Finally I
heard the dude getting up and I finally glanced his way and he towards
me. He stood in font of me, but not as close as Dreads. For a minute I
wasn't sure if I was supposed to take the lead. I didn't know this
dude, but in a few more seconds I would have no choice but to break
the awkward pause and go for his pants.

As with so many of these macho bi or straight dudes, they might talk a
big game, but when it comes to making the first move when you're face
to face, I almost always end up having to break the ice. If neither of
us knows quite what to do, me dropping to my knees in front of him is
usually enough to get the ball rolling.

I heard Dreads jangle his car keys and he moved towards the door
saying "Imma wait in the truck."

Seconds later he was out the door and there we were.

Now this was another surprise! This stranger is standing here and now
Dreads has walked out leaving us alone. I was immediately pissed. He
brought this motherfucker here to watch and get some head, so he
should stay and supervise - if nothing else just to make me more
comfortable. I had no idea if they planned it this way or if he just
decided to walk out on the spur of the moment. I had helped him put on
a hell of a show, and ended up getting repaid by having him leave me
alone with this guy.

ROUND TWO

I had a few seconds to sum dude up. It was now genuinely dark in the
room. If he hadn't been 8 inches from me I would have had trouble
seeing much of anything. He was medium height and medium build. I
would guess 5'7" and about 180-190 pounds. He had a slight belly, but
was far from fat. With dark jeans and a baggy pullover sweatshirt it
was hard to tell much about his body. All I could tell was he wasn't
fat and he wasn't skinny. I wasn't displeased with what I saw,
although my perception was admittedly limited.

The overwhelming thing was his cologne. It stood out more than
anything else about him.
It seemed like minutes had passed, but in reality it was probably only
a few seconds.

Sensing that I was going to need to break the ice, habit and training
took over and I scooted up off my butt and up to my knees. As the
saying goes, I "assumed the position." He responded by turning and
walking away.

I was surprised and puzzled, and momentarily thought he might walk to
the door and leave. Maybe he had seen enough and didn't want any
service after all. Maybe he was a straight dude who just wanted to
watch? Maybe he didn't think this was the turn on that he hoped it
might be? Maybe he just wasn't interested?

He only got a foot away, turned and faced the arm of the couch. He was
only a couple of feet away from me now, but that was enough distance
in the inky room to make it hard to see anything clearly. I heard some
rustling and immediately recognized the sounds of a belt being
unbuckled, a zipper coming down and pants being lowered. Lord knows
those are all sounds I would recognize in the darkest room. I edged
forward a few inches on my knees.

Even in the dark room I could see his form. He was bending over.

This ain't my first rodeo, so I knew then what he wanted. I crawled
the foot and a half over to where he was and knelt behind him. It was
so dark I thought it was unlikely he noticed that I had crawled over
to him on my knees. Normally dudes get a kick out of that kind of
submissive shit, so I was disappointed my actions might have gone
unnoticed.

He didn't move. So I pressed my face forward with my tongue extended
and tasted this stranger's ass for the first time.

His ass was round and full. A top would have said he had a bubble
butt. As with a lot of moderately hairy black men, he had totally
smooth cheeks and hairy crack. He was also clean. He had a fresh but
masculine smell, the typically musky smell from young dudes who aren't
long out of the shower. As I got to work, my first thought was how
good it was to escape that cologne smell. As fucked up as it sounds, I
enjoyed having my nose pressed in his ass more than the smell of his
cologne.

I had my hands on the side of his ass, not really roaming around his
body, but just bracing myself as I leaned forward. I licked up and
down his crack and kissed and licked his cheeks, but like any good rim
job I quickly focused on tonguing his asshole. I knew from the moment
my face entered his ass that I was going to enjoy rimming this dude,
and he was so clean that I did my best to really work his ass over.

I was marveling at this stranger who was bent over the arm of my couch
getting his ass eaten. I didn't even know his name. He hadn't said a
word. I didn't even have a fake name. Even in the shady, grimy world
of random, anonymous internet hookups, we almost always have a fake
name to associate with a dick or ass. But this was different. I was
irritated and excited at the same time. But I didn't spend too much
time worrying or thinking. I could tell from his body movements that
he was jacking his dick. I took that as a good sign.

In my experience you have two kinds of dudes who like to get rimmed.
There are the ones who want to have it done so they can say they've
had it done. They just like the fact that someone was willing to eat
their ass - like the taboo and the nastiness of it. For these guys it
doesn't take much other than a lot of spit and lots of movement. If
you spend too much time near the asshole, they pull away or tell you
to stop. For a lot of these types of guys, the asshole is a no-go
zone, even with a tongue. The kinky thrill of having someone submit to
lick their butt doesn't involve breaching their hole. That would be
gay.

Then there are guys who really like getting eaten. They want the
movement and the spit and the feeling of a face pressed between their
cheeks, but they want you to go deep. This group wants you to pull
their ass apart so you can really get to the crack and hole. They want
a tongue as deep as possible in their hole. In my experience these
guys don't think it's gay to have a tongue as far as possible up their
ass, it's just a turn on to know someone is willing to literally taste
their insides.

This dude really liked getting his ass eaten. I pulled his cheeks
apart slightly and started to tongue his hole. I teased it with the
tip of my tongue, going in circles and doing anything I could think of
to stimulate him. He liked it. He stopped jacking his dick and reached
back with both hands and pulled his cheeks apart hard. That was a
green light. I stuck my tongue out as far as I could and pushed my
face into his ass as hard as I could.

He still didn't make a sound. Not even a moan. But I didn't need to
hear anything to know he was enjoying it. He moved his hands around to
the front again and I could tell he was slowly jacking. He was also
pushing back, trying to keep my face buried as deep as possible. I was
leaning forward with my hands floating, and he was pushing back, so
that I was pivoted forward, held up only by my face pressing into his
ass.

Now I love eating a black man's ass. If you're with a dude who wants
it sloppy and deep, it's hard to find anything that makes me feel
sluttier or more frenzied. By letting it get all sloppy and wild and
not shying away from tasting his hole, it's an effective way of
letting a dude know "there's nothing I won't do." The last important
thing he did with his ass was take a shit, and now perhaps an hour or
so later I was eating that same hole like it was the best meal on
earth. It's one of the most demonstrative ways to submit.

I wanted this quiet stranger to know there wasn't anything I wouldn't
do. My face was covered with my own spit. All I could smell and taste
was him. All I could see was him. My dick was hard and pressing
against my pants. Now I wanted his dick in my mouth and his cum down
my throat.

But I hadn't even seen his dick. I wanted to reach around and touch
it, but I was afraid. In the game we were playing I just didn't think
it was my place to take the initiative. I wasn't bored with his ass,
but I was thinking about that dick.

I wondered what his hands looked like. Were they big or his fingers
long? I tried to imagine them wrapped around his dick, wondering what
all of it looked like. He had that dick in his hands. I think I was a
little jealous.

But still I continued my meal. He continued jacking. After it was all
over I realized it had lasted about ten minutes, but it seemed like a
lot longer. I was actually getting a bit tired. I had been bent over
and moving up and down trying to get as much friction on his ass as I
could. I was breathing hard and trying to make sure my tongue found
its target at least every other pass.

With no warning he pushed me back, not hard, but still with enough
purpose that I fell back a little. He turned around, put a hand on my
forehead and pushed my head back so I was looking up at him. There it
was. The dick. He started jacking with his other hand. As an
experienced cocksucker for assertive guys, I knew I should have been
making eye contact at this point. But I couldn't help but stare at his
dick.

It was at least 8 or 8.5 inches and thick. He was snipped and had a
lighter head. At this distance I could see a thick bush of pubic hair
at the base of his dick. I desperately wanted to take that dick in my
mouth and bury my nose in his pubes. I wanted to smell him there, and
really taste him.

At this distance I could smell the cologne again. I still had a face
covered with spit and I was sweating, but the cologne was starting to
break through. I focused on the dick. But the minute he pushed my head
back and started jacking I knew I wasn't going to get what I wanted.

At this point there was a chance I'd get the load in my mouth. That
would be my preference. But that hand on the forehead move typically
means something else. I was going to get my face painted.

He started jacking harder and I could tell he was tilting his head up
and back. I know from trembling that he was close. I opened my mouth
and waited.

He fired 6 big shots across my face. The first two hit his hand and my
forehead and hair. By the third shot he was looking down and took aim
at the center of my face. It was a good load. My eyes and nose and
even my mouth got shots. I swallowed quickly, running my tongue across
the top of my mouth and lips to try and get as much of the flavor as I
could.

And then it was over.

He let go of my head and bent down for his pants as I leaned back to
catch my breath. It took him seconds to zip up and start for the door.
I was still panting as he opened the door, walked out and slammed the
door behind him. I don't know if he slammed it on purpose, but it
seemed too loud for an accident.

Damn. There I was, still on my knees but tilted back to rest on my
heels. I had his seed all over my face and hair. His cum had a strong
smell. He had marked his territory.

Being a cum whore, I scraped as much of his nut off my face as I could
and licked it off my fingers. The smell was far more powerful than the
taste. But I didn't want to waste it.

I didn't know how I felt about him. I still didn't know his name. I
hadn't seen his face. He hadn't cum in my mouth like I wanted him to,
and I hadn't tasted his dick. And he never said a fucking word all
night. But it would still be wrong to waste a true man's cum.

So many things were going through my mind. I heard my phone alert me
to a new text. This guy had me irritated and excited at the same time.
I sat there on the floor for at least 4 or 5 more minutes, alone in my
thoughts and breathing.

I got more irritated and lurched up, took a piss, and went to my
phone. There was a text from the next dude who wanted some head, Dom,
but I ignored him for the moment. I texted Dreads asking him why he
didn't tell me he was bringing a friend. I was feeling bold. That
wasn't a typical text from me to him.  For a moment I was just a guy
irritated with another guy and asking a legitimate question.  I went
to the bathroom and washed up.

As I was drying off my face and hair I got the response back from
Dreads: "Knew you wouldn't say no"

I was pissed all over again. I knew he was right. He knew he was
right. But still, that took some balls. To just show up with some dude
and expect sex without any warning. Sight unseen. But like he said, he
knew I wouldn't say no. I couldn't argue the point. He was right. At
the time that irritated me even more. I sent him a response text
saying it still wasn't cool to not at least mention it.

All I got in response was: "Knew you would do it"

It's so annoying when you realize other people know you as well as that...

Damn. At this point it was getting close to 8 pm and if things went as
planned in about an hour I would have another visitor. Time to move
on. But I couldn't get that dude out of my head. He had used me like a
two-bit whore for his pleasure, without even an ounce of civility or
humanity. I kept thinking about him.

ROUND THREE

So Dom had sent a text checking on our appointment. He was still at
the gym but was already thinking about his next workout. Or working me
out, as it were...

I responded that we were good to go. I decided it was uncool to have
another dude's smell on me when the next trick arrived, so I washed up
again.  I don't know if that makes me a considerate whore, or just the
sort of experienced whore who knows how jealous men can sometimes
be...

There was something about that quiet stranger that kept my head
spinning. He hadn't said a damn word. He had made himself at home in
my house. He had watched me service his friend. He just bent over and
waited for me to eat his ass. He busted a fat nut all over my face.
And he walked out slamming the door. And Dreads just knew I would do
him. And Dreads walked out and left us alone. The whole thing just
pissed me off. But it also made my dick hard.

As I mentioned earlier, I had put off hooking up with Dom quite a few
times due to his aggressive face-fucking style. In our last round of
texts he had begrudgingly agreed to take it easy on me in exchange for
me hooking up with him again. And so finally he was just minutes away.

He liked the scene set in a similar fashion to Dreads - and similar to
the way a lot of dudes I hook up with like it. Dark room. Porn
optional. I went ahead and put on some interracial gay porn and
thought it might set the mood. If I wasn't going to let him gag me
with his dick the whole night I might as well give him something
erotic to watch that might help him get off.

He arrived a few minutes after 9 and I dropped to my knees in front of
the couch. He stood in front of me and undid his pants and boxer
briefs and dropped them to his feet. He was already hard, so I went
right to work. I started slowly, to get him wet all the way to the
base, and worked on him for about 3 or 4 minutes. I reached up and put
my hands on his ass, not just to brace myself but also because I
wanted to touch his ass. As soon as I did that he leaned back and sat
on the couch.

In the cocksucking world, there are mainly two kinds of customers we
serve. Standers and sitters. Dom is a sitter. That can be easier, but
it can also be harder. A deep throat freak like Dom would be easier
for me to take if he was standing. The pathway just seems better
suited to going deep. Perhaps he knows that and that's why he likes to
sit - just to make it as hard as possible for his victim.

But even after he sits, Dom was true to his word. He never grabbed my
head. He urged me on with some nasty talk and even got me to lick his
balls some - something traditionally he wasn't all that thrilled with.
I was just giving an old-fashioned easy-going blow job, going from
slow and easy to fast and deep as I deemed fit.

I'm there working on this dude's dick, enjoying the taste and smell
and feeling, but my mind keeps wandering back. Back to the other dude
from an hour or so before. Everything about him and the night was
flashing before my eyes. Him in my chair. Him not saying a word. Him
cumming on my face. His hairy ass. His thick dick inches from my
mouth. Him slamming my door. Damn. My dick was hard now.

That silent dude from earlier left me feeling like a total slut. I
felt so trashy, so grimy. I was so horny all of the sudden, just
thinking about how he treated me. He got exactly what he wanted. He
didn't want head, so I didn't get any dick. He wanted his ass eaten,
so that's what happened. He wanted to jack off his own dick and shoot
on my face, so that's what happened. He used me. I was getting crazy
horny again just thinking about him.

I went deep on Dom's dick, gagging myself on the hook as I tried to
take him down my throat. He groaned "Oh, Fuck!" and convulsed his
whole body in response. I went to town,
trying to suck him as hard and fast and deep as I could. He was
literally shaking in 30 seconds. I heard him chuckle out "Damn, you're
gonna make me bust," and I realized it was both wrong and unnecessary
to hold him back from what he wanted. I was so horny for dick,
thinking about that other dude, that I wanted to be as slutty as
possible. I was getting that crazy, frenzied horny feeling again. It
was time to take off the reins.

I took one of his hands and put it on the back of my head. All he said
was "Yeah, Bitch, I thought so..." and pulled hard, in one motion
burying his dick down my throat and pressing my face against his
crotch.

My body was trying desperately to evict this invader. I was fighting
the urge to choke, throw up and breath all at the same time. My eyes
were watering and my nose was running. He held me in place for a good
10 seconds or so, and I pulled off the minute he loosened the
pressure, gasping for breath like a drowning man reaching the surface
of the water.

I got a couple of decent breaths in and then I felt that hand. He took
it relatively easy on me, but he still got the face-fuck he wanted. I
choked and gagged and nearly threw up a half dozen times, but I kept
at it. I wanted Dom to cum. And I wanted it now.

But I also realized the horny part of me wanted him to have the blow
job experience that turned HIM on, even if that was more work on my
part. I was supposed to be doing this shit for him.  Thinking about
that bold stranger from earlier made things clearer.  Putting too many
of these personal restrictions on what Dom could do made me no better
than some girl complaining about oral sex.  I was supposed to be
better than that.  Sometimes horniness can bring clarity.

I knew from experience that no amount of friction was going to get him
off. The only thing that really got him to the point of explosion was
to let him go deep and hold it. I guess that euphoria from going all
the way down was what turned him on. I took as many deep breaths as I
could, curved my neck, arched my back and bottomed out. I let him stay
dug in to my core for 5-10 seconds, but let him have that maybe a
dozen times. He was at bat and hit a home run over and over again. I
was focused on his success and pleasure and gave him exactly what he
needed and craved. That was all it took.

He tensed up, let out a hell of a yell "Oh, Shit!" and urged me on.
"Swallow it. Swallow it. Swallow it!!!"

As he started to cum he tried to get deep again, but I gagged one last
time and pulled up in plenty of time to get my mouth full of his nut.
I let him get what he wanted, but I also made sure I got what I
wanted.

I fell back on my ass and he pulled himself up and started to get
dressed again. We exchanged a few pleasantries and then he was out. It
had been about 25 minutes. Not a record, but that was pretty fast for
him. I guess I had been inspired to do a good job.

Little did Dom know it was a dick I hadn't even tasted from about an
hour earlier than had been my inspiration. What he doesn't know won't
hurt him. Hell, it even helped him tonight!

I went right to the bathroom and jacked off a huge load. It felt like
I had lost a hundred pounds. I was immediately exhausted. I cleaned up
the living room and all the slobber from the couch and floor in front
and then went upstairs and cleaned up again.

I remembered that I had left the dog locked up in the other room so I
let her out and took her outside to pee. As I was standing out there I
realized I was hungry. I had been eating
men all night, but no real food. I was starving. I had been fooling
around all night and had completely forgotten to eat any dinner.

It took me minutes to realize I needed to get out of the house. I was
keyed up from the night's events. I was hungry. I needed to drive and
eat. I need to hear loud music. I need to think.

I have a friend who works late, who also happens to be the one person
I can share my adventures with. He's straight as a rail, but he's a
big freak too in his own way. The stories I tell, even the nastiest
ones, don't make him flinch. He doesn't judge, or at least he doesn't
judge to my face... He's done all the same things in his own way and
probably a lot more. It's good to have someone to confide in. Blog or
diary entries that are read only by me just don't do the trick when
you need to get something off your chest. And I had one of those
nights I couldn't keep to myself.

I knew he'd be down for a late night meal, and I needed to get out. I
grabbed us some food, cranked up the car stereo and sped like a demon
across town to his office. At one point I realized I was going over 80
mph on the interstate and didn't even know it. My mind was still
totally preoccupied with the night's events - especially the silent
stranger.

My buddy and I chopped it up, ate some food and yet I was still
hyperactive. I even smoked a real cigarette that I bummed off my bud,
something I haven't done in a long time. My mind was just in a
different place. I told him the whole story, and he predicted not only
that the stranger would come back for more, but that I wanted him to.
It turns out he was right.

Right then I made the decision to hit up Dreads. I wanted him to know
that if the stranger from tonight wanted to go again I was down. I
didn't have contact info on the stranger, so Dreads would have to be
the conduit. I sent Dreads a text.

Then I was happy. I made the decision to reach out and see if I could
reconnect with this dude. He irritated me and excited me. I was hyper
just thinking about him, even hours later, and even after sucking off
another guy. It may not work out, but it wouldn't be my fault if I
never saw him again.  A closed mouth don't get fed, as they say...

I had no idea I would get my wish so soon...

ROUND FOUR - THE FINALE

After hanging with my friend across town, I slowly made my way back
home. I was a lot calmer now. I guess the excitement and hyperactivity
from earlier was based on me being undecided about this new dude,
about not knowing how I felt about our hookup. I was irritated and
turned on and curious and unsure, all at the same time. Now I had sent
the text to Dreads inviting another meeting with this stranger. I had
done my part. It was out of my hands.

I got back to the house about quarter to 12 and got a text from an
unknown number.

"Will come thru tonight. 12:30"

Wtf? Who is this? In milliseconds it dawned on me. It was the stranger.

Damn, Dreads and this dude both work fast. It never occurred to me
when I sent that text to Dreads that he would think I meant I wanted
another round tonight. Hmm. Well, damn.

I might as well be honest. I wasn't upset. I was excited. Although I
had wacked off after Dom left, I was still keyed up over this dude.
The minute I saw the text the fever pitch was back. I was so excited I
was about to pee in my pants. I felt like a little girl who just got a
pet pony from daddy for Christmas. I brushed my teeth, washed my face
and put some cologne on to get the food smell off me. I would have
danced around if I hadn't been more concerned about getting myself and
the place ready in a hurry. This was going to be the fourth sexual
escapade in my living room in 6 hours. I needed to make sure it was
clean and there was no slobber or cum on the couch or the floor. I
even cleared some more room on the couch and ottoman just in case we
needed to spread out. My thoughts in this regard were foreshadowing
the events to come...

I replied to the stranger's text. Me: "Is this the guy from earlier?"

Him: "Yea"

I knew it was him, but I had to ask. It would have been sketchy and
too innocent not to at
least ask. What I didn't know is if it meant they were coming
together. He had texted me directly. I immediately knew I wanted him
to cum alone, no pun intended. Dreads was optional at this point. I
suspected it was just going to be the two of us. One way to find out...

Me: "Alone or both of you?" I waited.

Him: "Alone"

Hot damn! It was on.

Me: "Cool, see you at 12:30."

I still had plenty of time. I decided to take a shower. Might as well
take the opportunity to be fresh. I expected to remain fully clothed,
as usual, but it never hurts to be prepared for anything. Again,
foreshadowing...

By 12:25 I was clean, dressed and nervous as fuck. I was more uneasy
than when meeting a random off Craigslist for the first time in a
MacDonald's parking lot\. I knew this guy. I knew what he smelled like
in places that only bitches he had fucked would have any chance to
know.

But I actually knew less about him than I typically know about random
first-time meets. No name, not even a fake one. I didn't know if he
lived here, if he was married, if he was bi or straight or gay. I
didn't get to ask the preliminary screening questions like was he HIV
negative or have any STDs. I knew he liked to get rimmed and he had a
nice ass. Hardly a lot of information. But, it was enough for tonight...

12:30 came and went. 12:40 came and went. 12:50 came and went. I was
beginning to worry he wouldn't show. Damn. I was practically in a
tizzy. Not mad - not at him. Not now. I was just worried. New dick has
that effect.

At 12:53 I got a text: "on my way"

What a relief! Of course there was no "sorry" or explanation for why
he was late, but that was hardly surprising. I've been doing this shit
long enough to know those kinds of expectations are a fool's errand.
Expect to get dick, but anything else, including timing, is out of my
control.

So he wouldn't be left waiting on the doorstep, I let him know by text
that he could just come in when he arrived. "Door unlocked, just come
in," I texted him.

I was standing by the window, peeking out the blinds. I had darkened
the room and put the dog away. I didn't think about putting on some
porn - my mind was elsewhere. It was so quiet and dark. Although it
was late, and it had already been a busy evening, I wasn't tired. I
was ready.

A little after 1:00 am he pulled in the driveway. I waited until I saw
him get out of the car and then I assumed the position. He hadn't
given any instructions, but being there on my knees when he came in
just seemed like the appropriate course of action. I was on the floor
by the couch, ready for whether he wanted to sit or stand. I try to be
accommodating.

He walked in, closed and locked the door and then slowly made his way
over to me. My heart was beating a mile a minute at that point. The
cologne hit me, and despite the fact I didn't really like the scent,
it made my dick hard. Here he was again. Not even 6 hours later. Just
the two of us. No Dreads waiting in the truck outside.

I just sat there on my knees. The ball was in his court. I wondered
for a second or two if he was going to wait and let me make the first
move. I didn't have long to wait.
He finally spoke.

His voice was deep and his volume was low. It was deadpan and
completely normal, only a little quieter than what you might hear in a
normal conversation. There was no emotion in his voice.

I guess I was expecting to learn more from the first words I heard. He
sat down on the couch and had his legs spread wide. I was maybe a foot
away from him on my knees, facing him.

He was wearing what appeared to be sweatpants or pajama pants. They
were loose-fitting and dark in color. He had on a what appeared to be
two plain white t-shirts, the baggier of the two on the outside. He
had on either low-cut socks or none at all. As he was sitting there
with his legs spread the sweatpants cuffs were showing some skin above
the shoes. He had on Nike tennis shoes. I noticed the brand but not
much else, other than they were pretty new. You couldn't tell much
from what he was wearing other than his goal was to be comfortable. He
might have been walking in the mall with that on, or going to the
grocery store. But I digress...

"Take off my shoes."

His first words to me were an instruction. I complied.

He extended his left foot towards me, making it clear where I was to
begin. I unlaced his sneaker, and tried to pull the shoe gently off
the foot he now held up off the floor for easy access. I'm guessing he
wore an 11 medium, an average size. But the shoe wasn't coming off
easy.

"Just pull it off," he said, in the same low, unremarkable voice. I
gave his shoe a yank and it was off.

He pulled his left foot back and extended the right. I quickly unlaced
and yanked that one off.

I've been down this road before, so I knew what was coming next. I
waited though, to see if he was going to give me an instruction.
Sometimes these things are waiting games. He might want to see if I'll
take initiative. Taking initiative can lead to reward or it can lead
to punishment. It's hard to tell if you're better off waiting for
instruction or permission. I wasn't in a hurry.

"Socks," he said quietly, as he held up the left foot again.

He had on plain white no-show socks. I had the left sock off in one
swipe. Up came his right foot and that sock came off as well. Now he
was sitting barefooted before me.
Again, this wasn't my first time down this road. I knew what was
coming next. It was inevitable.

He held up his left foot again, and said "Suck em."

Now there are lots of sexual things between dudes that can have varied
meanings. Sucking toes is not one of them. It's simply an act of
domination. Feet and toes aren't erogenous zones. No one gets direct
sexual stimulation from the toes. If a man tells you to suck his toes,
he's doing it to show dominion over you. It may be role play, but it
clearly establishes who's the boss.

It's also trashy and kinky and degrading and demeaning. It makes me
feel like a total whore. He's essentially walking all over me. You
know your place in the pecking order when you lower yourself and put a
man's feet in your mouth. Of course I loved it.

I started with the big toe and sucked that for a while. I went from
toe to toe, and eventually took several of them in my mouth at a time.
His feet were clean and well-shaped. They smelled like new Nikes.

I worked my way down and licked the bottom of his foot, from the heel
back to his toes, several times. In my experience, the expectation
after sucking the toes is licking the bottom of the foot. It just
feels like the natural next step. And I didn't mind. I kissed and
licked the top of his foot up to his ankle, making sure I covered as
much of his foot as possible. I didn't feel rushed and I didn't want
him to think I was rushing. I wanted him to see me taking the time and
care to make sure I did the job right. As with so many other kinky
things, if you're gonna do it, you might as well fucking do it right...

He pulled his left foot away gently and held up his right. I started
on that foot, just as I had done with the other. The only switch was
that as soon as I started on his right toes, he slowly lowered his
foot so his heel was resting on the floor. When I was servicing his
left foot, he was able to rest it on my ottoman. As he lowered his
right foot I was compelled to follow it down to the floor. Not only
was I on my knees kissing this stranger's feet, I was kneeling forward
with my face practically on the floor.

Having my face on the floor was symbolically important. It was
worship, or at least looked like it. If someone had been watching they
would have seen this man sitting there, with another man literally
kneeling at his feet, bent over to the floor before him. I couldn't go
any lower, and he couldn't be raised up any higher. The submissive and
the dominant. He was like a king sitting there. Or a god. And I was
there, prostrated before him. Kissing his feet. Worshiping my god.

When he had had enough, he stood up, and I pulled back up to my knees.
I got another instruction.

"Take off my pants."

I reached forward and pulled his sweatpants down easily. He stepped
out of the sweats one foot at the time and then kicked his sweats to
the side. He was wearing boxers, with his dick swollen against the
fabric, so I gently stuck my fingers in his waistband and pulled them
down slowly. I watched his dick spring out from the fabric and stick
straight out, pointed right at me. With a shake of his foot the boxers
were cast to the side. He pulled his outer t-shirt up and off his
head. He pulled his wife-beater undershirt over his head and across
his shoulders, gangster or porn movie style. He carried it off well.
He was standing there in front of me naked except for the wife-beater
stretched over his shoulders. Damn, he looked pretty good.

He had a nice naturally muscular build. He had a little belly on him,
but it was just a little bulge right there at his tummy. His torso was
actually pretty sexy, and he carried it well on his generally thick
frame. He was moderately hairy on the chest, tummy and legs. He didn't
look like a gym freak, or a muscle builder. He looked strong, like an
athlete, or a guy who's active enough that he doesn't need to work
out.

I wonder what my face looked like as he was looking down at me. I
looked him over from top to bottom, and finished looking back at his
face.

He reached down and casually jacked his dick with a quick one-handed
motion, and then immediately turned around and got on his knees on the
couch, with his ass popped out like a bottom ready to get fucked. I
knew he didn't want dick though. He wanted his ass eaten.
I was familiar with his ass from just hours before. It was like coming
home. I worked him over for a good 5 minutes. I felt him jacking
again, and I wondered if we were going to end soon with him cumming
all over my face. I thought about missing out on tasting his dick
again, but I didn't need to worry for long.

I had my hands on his waist, but he reached around and grabbed my
right hand and pulled it forward to his dick. I had finally made
contact.

I explored his dick with my hand as I jacked him slowly, trying to
focus on giving him a good rim job at the same time. His dick felt
good, and had been deprived until now, so I have to admit I was
distracted. A few minutes later he stood up and turned around to face
me. His dick was pointing right at my face again, but this time he was
about to hit home.

"Suck my dick."

I didn't need to be asked twice. I wanted to take my time, start with
the head and work my way down slowly, really savoring this prize that
I had been forced to work for. But I had waited so long I was afraid I
might miss out if I took my time. So I dove down and was taking him
almost completely in my mouth within 30 seconds. I was quickly trying
to do the best I could with a usual combo of tongue and lip action,
even making sure to make the exaggerated slurping sounds that are
synonymous with dick sucking. It was wet and I'm pretty sure it was
good. He didn't make a sound, but his dick was swelling up and was
already hard as a rock. He was too long and too thick for me to deep
throat, but I was willing to push it so that on each downstroke he was
hitting the back of my throat. I wasn't gagging, but I was putting in
work. My reward was a hand on the back of my head.

He started pulling me forward on the downstroke. Not a vicious grab,
but enough pressure to let me know to keep going and to have his say
in the pace of play. It was gentle but affirmative cocksucker
guidance. I love that feeling. I love the message it conveys. It's a
top dog's way of telling his cocksucker that although the sucker may
be doing all the work, it's the man on top that really calls the
shots.

We went at it for a few minutes this way. He got a bit more aggressive
a few times, and I gagged a few times. I made sure to gag the first
few times, although I made it sound more severe than it actually was.
I know from experience that having someone gag on their dick is a turn
on for a lot of dudes, and I thought this guy deserved it. As soon as
I gagged, he loosened up the pressure and let me come up for air. I'm
not new to this either, and I appreciated him giving me a chance to
regain my composure, so I quickly got back to work.

He moved his hand from my neck to the top of my head, gently grabbed a
fistful of my hair and pulled me off his dick. I instinctively looked
up at him and tried to lick away some of the spit around the edges of
my mouth. He reached down and wiped some of my spit off my lip. He
stuck that finger in my mouth and I closed my lips around it and
sucked gently on his finger. He stuck another finger in my mouth and
then a third. I sucked them all, and continued licking and sucking as
he pumped his three-finger salute in my mouth in a fucking motion.
Fingers in the mouth is another act of domination, as if we needed any
more examples... Our roles were clearly established hours earlier in our
first meeting.

He laid back on my couch and issued his next instruction: "Lick my chest."

So this was a little unexpected, but I was willing to play along. It
was a chance to explore his body, and to put my tongue to work. Dogs
experience the world through their noses. Their sense of smell is
their strongest tool. Cocksuckers experience the world through their
mouth. Our strongest tool is our tongue.

He was moderately hairy on his chest, but it was primarily a "treasure
trail" down the middle of his chest and getting a bit more dense on
his belly and down to his crotch. Not too much or too little. It
looked good on him. I licked his stomach and worked my way up to lick
and suck on his nipples. I took my time, but this didn't do much for
me. I was eager to head back "downstairs" for the bigger prizes. But I
was there for his pleasure, not mine.

As I leaned over him to lick his farthest nipple I brushed against his
arm. He was jacking his dick. I wondered what was next as I moved
around his chest and stomach with my tongue. He had an idea.

"Lick my pit."

I didn't hesitate, but in my mind I was a little stunned. I've done
this a couple of times before but it's rare in my experience. This was
a kinky bastard. His pits were clean. It was just like licking a hairy
leg or belly. I was so close to his face I could hear him breathing. I
knew this was as close to his face as I was ever going to get. I tried
to enjoy it, letting the sluttiness of the act sink in. Like feet and
toes, arm pits are not erogenous zones, at least not for most dudes.
So me licking under his arms was about something more than physical
pleasure. Dude was punking me tonight.

He stood up after a while, backing me off him again. He ran his hands
down his torso and to his legs, almost like he was smoothing the
wrinkles from a wrinkled shirt. I was just on my knees looking up at
him.

His next instruction really took me by surprise.

"Take off your pants."

Oh shit. My mind immediately went to my ass. I just knew I was going
to get the shit fucked out of me. Damn.

I started to say something, but stopped myself. I didn't have a
condom, hadn't cleaned myself to get fucked, and I just wasn't
mentally prepared. I wasn't sure I was going to say anything, but it
seemed like I should go ahead and strip while I was thinking about my
next course of action. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my pants
while he watched. I just stood there for a second, fighting the urge
to drop to my knees. I got my marching orders moments later:

"Bend ovah mah leg and lean on that stool," he said, referring to my
ottoman, in the closest thing to a sultry tone of voice I had heard
all evening.

I wondered if he was going to finger my ass. A finger or two is one
thing, but typically that's just a precursor to a dick up the ass. I
did what I was told though.

I leaned forward and bent over his leg and rested my head on the
ottoman. There were more surprises to come. I could feel him lean over
and grab something off the floor. Moments later he had a hand beside
my head and told me to lift up my head and open my mouth. Not sure
what was happening, I complied nonetheless.

I immediately knew it was a sock as he stuffed it in to my open mouth.
Damn this was getting intense. Was he worried I was going to scream?
And what was he planning to do that was going to make me want to
scream?!?! My mind was spinning a million miles per hour as I felt him
lean over to the floor again. He told me to hold my head up again and
I did as he instructed. I felt him pulling something over the top of
my head, and then panic really started to set in. My head was being
covered with some sort of fabric, and it was an odd and unsettling
feeling. Finally I realized he had put his boxers on my head. I wasn't
panicking anymore, but I was still kind of freaked out. This dude had
stuck a sock in my mouth and pulled his boxers over my head. What the
fuck?

Before I had a chance to really figure anything out I felt the first
slap on my ass. A few seconds later he slapped my ass again. He
started a rhythm, picking up the intensity a little as he went from
one cheek to the other. I was getting spanked. It was a weird feeling.
It didn't feel good, but it certainly wasn't painful. It was a
mind-fuck, but it wasn't anything too wild.

The thought crystalized in my mind just how grimy this whole thing
was. An unknown stranger was in my house having his way with me the
second time in one night. I was gagged with a sock and had my head
covered as some dude was spanking my ass, on my own couch. I had only
known this dude for a few hours.

And then he started to spank me harder.

There's a fine line between playful but aggressive spanking and being
truly paddled. I don't know exactly when that line was crossed, but I
suddenly knew it happened.
He was really starting to wail on my bare ass. The sound of your own
ass being slapped is hard to explain. Combined with the sharp,
stinging pain, the sensations are hard to describe.

I guess I started to make some noise - probably a low moan. I didn't
even realize I was making a sound, but he must have heard it.

"Shut up."

It wasn't loud or angry, but clear and firm. My dick started to get hard.

He took both hands and started slapping both cheeks at the same time.
It was really starting to hurt. I heard myself cry out the next time
he came down hard with both hands.

"Shut the fuck up," he said, this time a little louder.

He didn't miss a beat though, no pun intended. He kept slapping my
ass, usually with just one hand, but sometimes with both.

I was really starting to get sore. Each slap was really stinging, and
I knew my pale ass would be black and blue tomorrow. This started to
seem more like punishment than just a kinky game. He told me to "Shut
the fuck up" again, and my dick got harder.

"Shut the fuck up."

I don't know why this was happening. I like to submit and I like
kinky, nasty stuff, but pain has never been a turn on for me. That's
one of the reasons I don't like to bottom. Too much pain!

The pain was getting worse, but my dick was getting harder. With each
slap I was letting out a muffled cry and grinding against his hairy
leg. The friction was getting the best of me.

He kept at it. I kept crying out and he kept telling me the same thing:

"Shut the fuck up."

I wouldn't have know it, but clearly I was turned on. I didn't even
feel it happening, but I busted my nut while I was under assault.
Unfortunately I was still basically humping dude's leg while he
slapped my ass silly, and so my cum shot all over his leg.

He reacted immediately, jumping up so fast he nearly tossed me in to
the floor. He grabbed a throw blanket off my couch and bent down to
wipe my cum off his leg and foot. He clearly wasn't happy. I was still
in a daze. Normally after I cum everything clears up for me. I'm
usually ready to be done. This time I was still wound up.

"Get on your knees."

I got on my knees and he walked over to me again. He turned around and
bent forward so his hands were on the couch. His ass was sticking out
again so I knew what to do. I ate his ass for the third time as he
started jacking again.

I was content, but I wondered if I was going to be punished for
busting my nutt all over him. Even with my ass still stinging from the
beating he had been dishing out with his bare hands for god knows how
long, the real punishment for me would be not getting his cum in my
mouth. As much as I love mealing on his ass, I wanted his cum. And not
on my face this time, please...

I was really tonguing his hole again and he was jacking harder. As I
pulled his ass apart to get better access to his hole I could feel him
shaking as he really tugged on his dick hard. I may not know his name,
but I had been with him long enough tonight to know he was close to
busting. I tried to prepare myself.

He spun around, grabbed a handful of my hair and tilted my head up. He
grabbed his dick with his other hand and started jacking again. I
thought the nut was going to start spitting all over my face any
moment, so I was surprised when I got another instruction - the final
of the night.

"Open ya mouth and stick out ya tongue."

Oh, wow. As soon as I did what I was told, he shoved his dick in my
mouth all the way to the root. I nearly choked on the sudden invasion,
but my gag reflex relaxed as soon as he pulled out and then yanked my
head back down again. I grabbed his waist to brace myself, and quickly
moved my hands so I was holding myself up by grabbing his ass. He got
three more thrusts in and then on the fourth he bottomed out and held
me down on his dick. I felt his body tense up and felt him tighten his
grip on my hair, probably pulling a handful out, as he fired off his
load. I felt his hot seed spraying the back of my mouth and dripping
down my throat. As soon as he fired off the second or third spurt he
loosened his grip enough that I could take all his nut and not gag. I
relaxed and just let him come down naturally.

I had won. This made it all worth while, even the rather brutal paddling.

He was spent, and I was tired enough to enjoy the chance to just rest,
feel and taste his cum as I let it pool in my mouth. He finally pulled
out, and I swallowed the juice. My work was done. I fell back on my
ass again, catching my breath and staring up at him.

His chest was heaving as he too caught his breath and slowly came down
from his high. He was standing there, looking too good for words. I
wanted him again right then and there. I wanted to just stare at him.
I wanted to suck his dick again. I wanted to lick his ass again. I
wanted to lick him all over, all night. He was worthy of worship.

He asked for a towel and that broke my trance. I jumped up and ran to
the kitchen to grab a handful of paper towels. I skipped back to him,
perhaps a little too eagerly, and handed them over. He wiped himself
down from dick to ass and then casually tossed the paper towels on the
floor. It took him about a minute to get all his clothes back on. The
longest delay was looking for the sock he had gagged me with. I handed
the spit-soaked sock to him but he put it on without comment. I guess
he knew there was no point in complaining since he had been the one to
shove it in my mouth.

As soon as he was dressed he was gone. And he slammed the door again
on his way out. Damn! Maybe that's some kind of signature move of his?
Maybe he was just putting an exclamation point on a night where he had
claimed the top spot on the food chain. It was hardly necessary, but
so little about what he had done to me tonight was about the
necessary. It was about his will.

I just sat there on my bare ass in the middle of my living room. My
head was still spinning. This had ended up as one hell of a night. I
thought I was going to be a big hit tonight scoring dick from two
regulars. In the end, it was a surprise stranger that ended up winning
tonight's trophy. His cologne had faded already, but he was still very
much in the room. His taste was still in my mouth, his smell was all
over my face, his bruises were on my ass, and his pubes were between
my teeth. As his car was driving away he was still dominating every
one of my senses.

So far this change of seasons was working out better than expected.
Early spring warmth had generated an early spring dick down. This
early spring night was a blackout. Damn.

******