TheBreeder Posted June 2, 2014 Report Posted June 2, 2014 To see Breeder's original blog post click here Face down. Butt up. A grown man is lying across my lap, naked, like a little boy waiting for a spanking. His ass is round and furry, his thighs spread. I can feel his erection pressing against my balls. The wetness from his tip seeps down to slick my flesh. Weāre in his apartment in the Village. Itās a narrow little place, long and deep, but at its widest the rooms measure not much more than six or seven feet. The weird proportions are claustrophobic to me; I feel pressed in on one side. Sitting here cross-legged in his bedroom, eyes closed, is helping soothe my mind, though. That and the slickness of his hole, and the meditative nature of what Iām doing to it. Iāve got his ass greased up and plugged with a toy. Not just any toy. A special toy. Itās a heavy metal butt plug. But fancy. Itās so stylishly designed that it looks like I picked it up at the Museum of Modern Art gift shop. Thereās a shiny silver knob at the end, followed by a swooping stem connected to an elegant beveled oval handle. It looks more like a fancy wine cork, or perhaps an avant-garde door knocker to a modernistās upscale flat. Itās a butt plug, though, and Iāve got my last three fingers hooked through the oval as slowly I work it in and out of his chute. His face is buried in the mattress. āShit,ā heās saying, over and over again. āShit, that feels so good. You have no idea.ā I have an idea, though. Heās been letting me know how good it feels every time I twist that curved stem inside his ass, which presses the knob in new, unexplored areas. He lets me know when he groans as I plunge it deep, and twist again in the other direction. And when his head rises, then lolls, whenever I pull out that plug and let his ass lips flop together with a wet smack, I know Iām doing my job right. Heās excited. Iām relaxed. Iām digging the quietness of this exploration. I like the wetness I feel beneath my fingertips as they gently kiss the outermost rim of his hole. Iām enjoying how pliant he is to my touch, how much heās enjoying my slow attentions. My fingers are so slippery I can barely keep hold of the shiny metal handle. My other hand explores his balls, stroking up and down their middle. Theyāve retracted so tightly that heās almost a eunuch, but I tease them out again, and feel him shudder beneath my ministrations. Iām not hard. I donāt mind. This manipulation of flesh would be erotic enough to sustain me at my most sexually starved. Itās a feast for the senses. The soft squelching noises, the groans, the whisper of the sheets as they shift and pull beneath his clawing hands, tickle my ears. My nose prickles at the scent of the lube, the soapy, just-showered smell of his skin. The warmth of him nourishes me. The weight of him is substantial, and worthwhile. The gentle abrasion of his fur against my smooth palms is like the sexual Braille I follow to its conclusion, where his legs meet. āTell me about the last boy you fucked,ā he begs. I chuckle. My eyes are closed still, but I continue inserting and twisting the metal toy. I feel like Iām telling him a bedtime story, as my lips spool off the details of my last fuck. He listens just as breathless as a child might a ghost story, holding his breath for the conclusion. This is no ghost story, though. Itās a tale of two living and breathing men doing what men do to each other. Itās as alive a tale as it can be, and as I reach the climax, I feel myself hardening. āTell me another.ā Itās the plea of a child who doesnāt want the day to end, not yet. My cock continues to swell as I narrate plugging another hole. My heartās not into this telling, though. I donāt want to talk about fucking. I want to fuck. I remove the toy, set it to the side. I slide him from my lap and settle him into the mattress. He knows whatās coming. When my hard dick slides into that hole, it reaps the reward of plying it with a thick toy for the better part of an hour; itās less ass and more pussy. Soft. Puffy. It enfolds me, rather than grips. Itās velvet. Not a vise. Iāve only been in for a couple of minutes, and Iām not far from shooting. Itās as if that toy has done the work my cock usually hasāstretching and shaping the hole to suit me, so that when I plunge in, itās a perfect accommodation for my length and girth. āIām going to seed you,ā I warn him. āDo it.ā Thereās urgency in his voice. āDo it.ā My cock hits the root. It pulses and swells. The head is suddenly twice as warm as my semen begins to envelop the head. āOh shit.ā His voice is full of astonishment. āI can really feel it filling me up.ā It continues some more. Iām giving him so much semen that itās leaking around my cock and out of his hole, sticking in my pubes. Thereās a final shudder. Then I subside, and lie still atop him. āI canāt believe how much I felt that,ā he murmurs, his voice sleepy and vague. Weāre not moving. Sweat and cum has glued us together. Our two bodies feel like one. Neither of us want to move, immediately. So we donāt. Our chests rise and fall in unison, and the two of us rest, dozy, in the hollow our weight has created in the mattress. Face down. Butts up. Still connected, cock to hole, we glide toward sleep. More... 1
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