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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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The lads perspective :
I had been talking to an older man of for a few weeks.
We had found a lot in common, and I felt completely at ease.
From his pictures and occasional webcam viewings, he was a damn good-looking bloke.
He was intimidating with broad shoulders. Clearly, he either worked out moderately.
He shaved his head, but kept a full stubbly beard growing.
The effect was of unadulterated macho I'm-going-to-fuck-you-raw.
We made the arrangements to meet - I being the a typical Uni student couldn't drive, so we arranged a pickup.
I was surprised at my lack of nerves as I strolled to a car park near my college. Sure enough, his car was there, an unassuming blue Mondeo, just as he'd said.
My heart quickened a beat, and my cock stirred. I remember grinning to myself and putting on my best "horny fucker" front. I was expecting great things.
I knocked on the window, and he peered out of the window, and opened the door. He completed his bear cub-daddy look with a black t-shirt, covering his manly torso. That was one of my boxes ticked straight away.
I glanced at the patch of hair coming out of the top of the t-shirt. Again, that touch of machismo was a slight turn-on. Looking down, he was wearing army trousers and big, black boots. He would have looked daunting, if not for an intoxicating smile. He smelled of work and of confident promise.
We chatted for a short while, I spoke of assignments, and he spoke of work.
When we got to his house, he asked me to go upstairs, and take off everything but my jeans.
I obliged, and got undressed looking at the large, black covered bed, and noting the mirrored wardrobe running parallel to the bed.
He asked me to kneel before him, and then he kneeled down, coming face-to-face, and kissed me long and slow. His breath was hot and heavy, his beard scratching slightly.
I felt slightly dominated already, being half-naked and on my knees before this man.
It was exhilarating, and he must have picked up on my thrill at this power balance, as he began to lie down, pushing me back onto the floor, his kiss becoming more forceful. I lay on my back, him looming over me on his knees.
My hands were at his arms. He moved down to my neck, and sucking slightly, worked his way down my naked chest.
My cock by this time already was so hard it felt like it was going to rocket off. I could feel his cock bluntly poking into my thigh as he teased with my nipples.
I was pressed down, under his arms and legs, and couldn’t have moved if I tried. I gasped slightly as his beard scratched my chest, and he took that as a cue to move to the bed.
Pulling me up, not roughly, but with gentle force, he led me to nearer the bed.
I pulled up his shirt, marvelling at his chest. I was not used to a broad torso, or the undeniably macho hair.
It instantly established what would happen - he would be in control, taking charge and I would take it all and service his needs as I was younger and so very eager.
I kissed his chest and neck while he slid his trouser and removed his boots, and I removed mine. Our cocks sprang up to meet each other, glad for the freedom.
In moments his look became intense and lustful, his body, strong and certain.
His cock was a good two handfuls, and had a pronounced upward curve. I slid my hand towards it, and was surprised to find how hard it was. I couldn't even move it from its erect position, let alone bend or play. His cock head was already wet, and I resolved that the only course was to please it with my mouth.
I got again onto my knees and I began to kiss the shaft, looking up occasionally to see him staring intently at me, evidently enjoying the cock worship I was showing him.
I kissed his shaft slowly, deliberately. My hand reached around to his balls, and palmed them while I worked my way up.
The girth, and especially the curve made it a difficult fit, but I worked slowly, enjoying the feel of his cock, working my head around, then moving in a bit more, moving around to lick and fondle, occasionally biting gently at his balls or feeling his thighs and calves, which shared the liberal amount of hair his torso enjoyed.
I managed to get about halfway before I began to gag, and to my surprise, his hand came sharply down, pushing my head further. I was shocked at this, and began to gag more loudly, choking as he forced his massive dick further and further down my protesting throat.
Despite this, I felt my cock pulse, and I opened my mouth wider to accommodate him. I remember him complimenting me on what a good little cocksucker I was, and I smiled to myself. His cock was about three-quarters of the way down when he began to pump slowly, taking it out, and pushing back in. I placed my hands on the floor and took another glance at his face (my eyes watering slightly from gagging on his cock).
The look on his face was amazing – lustful, and frightening. It was the look of someone who knows they have the experience, and wants to please and control the person they’re with to the very limit.
His thrusting became harder. I began to fondle my own cock, which was pulsing wildly from lust. I shift into a more upright position, and placed my hands on his ass. His own hand moved down my back, scratching me, caressing the area where my tattoo was, forcing more of his cock into me.
I remember the pleasure I gained from pleasing him. I wanted him to know that I enjoyed feeling him, sucking and licking him, and wanted him to please me.
He pulled me again off my knees. I had been wanking myself furiously for a few minutes, and told him that I didn’t care about receiving oral. I just wanted him to fuck me.
He grinned a devilish smile and told me that he was calling the shots. I was pushed onto the bed, and manouvered onto the pillows. He took each of my legs in a strong grip, and lifted them.
I moaned as his tongue flicked around my hole, and teased the sensitive area behind my balls. It was amazing, but he knew instinctively the spots that made me jerk, and writhe, and exploited them.
His grip was strong as he teased me with his tongue. Suddenly, he plunged his tongue into my hole, and I remember actually wrenching upward, slapping his face with my balls. He pushed me down again, and pushed his tongue back in. It was a totally new experience, being out of control, being relentlessly forced down, pleasured with no ability to stop or control it. His tongue opened me up slowly, surely, licking and scratching with his beard. Each scratch was a jolt of pleasure, each probe with his tongue was a miniature wave of pleasure.
I begged him to fuck me. I wanted to feel his meat inside me, to know what it was like to have his years of experience, his instinctive knowledge of what turned me on focused around what I liked doing the best.
He looked up from between my legs, and I think at this point, more than before, he knew that I was his, and he could do whatever he wanted to me, and I wouldn’t care.
He raised himself up, and motioned for me to flip over. I did so, silently, and saw him quickly working, putting on his condom, retrieving a bottle of lube (god, how I would need it), and a small bottle of something I’d never seen before.
He lubed up my hole, and I squirmed as he played, poking his finger, slathered with cold lube around and slightly into my ass. I was slightly nervous here, feeling totally overpowered, about to take the first cock of my life from an experienced man.
I hoped that I would be able to please him as he’d pleased me.
He asked me if I’d ever tried poppers before, and looking around, I saw that he was talking about the small bottle he’d taken out. I hadn’t, so he took a big breath of the vapours, and brought his head forward to meet mine. We pressed our mouths together and he breathed the vapours through to me. I had no idea what to expect, and the poppers were sharp and tangy. I breathed out heavily, and after a second, the rush began. My cock pulsed powerfully, and I shook on my elbows.
He pushed his cock into me at this point, sensing my readiness. He was careful, and slow, but some mixture of the poppers and my lust for this man allowed me to take it better than I thought.
I pushed my ass back further, wincing occasionally, and distantly wondering if I’d how I would ever walk after this.
Thankfully, he definitely knew what he was doing, and knew that despite my poppers-induced desire to be speared, he was in control and knew the best pace.
He began to push, very slowly. I felt like I had been filled up. He was probably only about halfway when he passed me the bottle of poppers and I took another whiff, coughing slightly.
Again, the rush hit me like a wall, and I heard him growl about how tight my ass felt around his cock. His pushing got a little harder, and I moaned, my face in the pillows.
I was ready for him now, and pushed onto him. His hands were on my waist, controlling the speed of the thrusting. I dared not touch my cock at this time, which was pulsing on its own.
He shifted one knee up, and began fucking me harder, issuing threats of how hard he was going to fuck me and compliments about how much he was enjoying my tight hole in equal measure.
I raised myself onto my elbows, gasping in pleasure and flinching from the force of taking his dick. It was the most amazing mix of sensual feelings I had ever taken – the pressure of his cock inside me, the pleasure as it thrusted deeper, only vaguely listening to his voice, the music and the smells of sex all around me.
He slowed suddenly, and told me to wait on the bed. He commanded, with a hint of satisfaction, that I was not to wank, or touch myself. I nodded meekly, and he went out of the room for about five minutes, during which I heard the sounds of moving and scuffling.
He came back through and took me by the hand, and, scooping up the poppers, led me through to a studio room. I felt apprehensive, and excited. In the aftermath of the poppers, and a bed-breaking fucking, my heart was pounding like a jackhammer.
I saw hooks on the ceiling from which there was now a leather sling hanging. There were two leather holds on the chains. Again, my heart pounded, and I felt hornier than I ever have done. My ass was pulsing, as was my cock, and I was led toward the sling. I had never considered trying anything like this, so as I was manoeuvered into it, my legs strapped into the holds, I felt a rush of kinkiness I’d never experienced.
He pushed himself back into me, and told me that my ass belonged to him. I nodded, feeling the blood rush around to various body parts. Before, I was dominated by his persona, his intoxicating presence and physical presence. Now, strapped into the sling, feeling the cold leather beneath me, strung helplessly baring my ass for him to take, I had never felt more alive.
Taking a hit of poppers, and passing me the bottle, he began to fuck me again. The shafting was incredible. His hands were now free to fondle my cock, and feel my bare chest, coming up to my throat, caressing my face and sliding down again. Being suspended above the ground, the rocking of the sling provided an ever greater force to his fucking.
With a lustful snarl, he switched from pounding. His face had turned red with desire and effort.
The rush of poppers, for a third time, hit me, and each thrust became a wave of pleasure. I moaned, and writhed, his hand beating my cock, the pressure in my ass becoming more, and more, and more pronounced as his dick rammed into me, his balls slapping my asscheeks.
I felt like was outside of my own body, I can’t remember where my hands where, or distinguish the growls and moans of orgasmic pleasure I was making. I can only remember the feeling, the feeling of the pleasure, and the pressure, and the mad rocking of the sling.
I remember his hand wrapped around my cock, knowing that I would cum soon, I couldn’t take this pounding much longer, hearing him ordering me to cum, opening my eyes at the point where the pressure became too much to bear, and seeing his face, red, wild, his eyes screwed up as he let out a shout, he too was coming, my cock pulsed, and jerked, and white ropes of spunk flew out, over his fist, over my chest and neck, his thrusts becoming as forceful as ever as he blew his load inside my grateful hole.
And we were spent. I reeled in the aftermath, feeling exhilarated, and sore, and so very, very alive.
We moved back to the bedroom, and lay for a while in a haze of satisfaction and longing for more. |
