happygolucky
01-12-2006, 12:16 PM
This happened a couple of years ago -it's pretty explicit and contains lots of MM stuff -please don't read it if you're offended by that sort of behaviour...
As always we had made initial contact via the Internet and were set to meet in a pub in a nearby village. It was high summer and I still felt it necessary to dress in as near to a school-type outfit as I could find; crisp white shirt, smart creased trousers, black shoes and skimpy white underpants.
I was quite surprised therefore when he arrived in casual shorts and tee shirt but, looking at him I could see why he would have done so. His rugby-player build shone through every available gap in his clothing and I could see the outline of his chest muscles and nipples poking hard through the thin material. Strangely it turned me on quite a lot.
We got on well and quickly turned to the matter in hade; my punishment and the scene we were to play out. We quickly agreed on re-creating a school scene with me naturally enough playing the errant school boy and he taking the role of the angry school master. I followed his car back to his house which was remote and lost in the fields and back roads of Sussex. I parked and followed him up the drive and into the house.
His ‘study’ was fairly authentic. Leather chairs and a desk, old furniture and lots of books. We quickly established the more detailed ground-rules and I waited outside the door and knocked. He made me wait for a few moments, just to add to the authenticity, and I was about to repeat my knuckled question when he barked “Enter.”
I walked in.
“You wanted to see me sir?”
“Yes Lightfoot. I’m going to punish you very severely for your tardiness and poor performance. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“What am I going to do boy?”
“You’re going to punish me severely for my transgressions sir.”
“Take your shoes off and come over here.”
“Yes sir.”
I turned away from him and undid my shoes, bending my body in a sharp arch then returned to face him and moved towards him.
“Hands on the desk.”
I leaned forward and placed my hands on the edge of the desk and pushed my bottom out. Given his proclivities I knew this was a tease but wanted to raise his temperature a bit.
He stood to my side, placing his hand in the dip of my waist and started to spank me hard and fast. I pushed back to meet every spank he delivered and soon found the glow beginning to spread throughout my buttocks. His salvo slowed and then stopped.
“Good. No sound at all. Let’s see if you keep that up.”
I knew that this man wasn’t gay but had a feeling that, in spite of himself he may well be tempted into some bi-sexual fun and with his build and physique I really wanted to find out. I felt his hands encircling my waist and in a few moments felt my trousers falling to my ankles and his hands tapping at them signalling me to lift them one by one and permit the garment to be removed completely.
He crossed and sat on the other side of the desk, in his big armchair and looked at me face to face. I played the shame-faced boy but wasn’t very convincing.
“Over.” Was his one word command as he signalled to his lap. I moved round and draped myself across him, feeling my semi-stiff cock between us and his hard thigh beneath. This is possibly the horniest moment of all for me. Not in the sexual part of it but in the feeling of knowing what was about to happen and knowing that I couldn’t now back out.
He stepped straight back into the pace and rhythm he’d recently abandoned and I felt I was facing a challenge. The more so as I started to follow my own rule of pushing back towards each blow to indicate that it could be yet harder. I always do this and it seems to irritate some into really blistering me, which warms everything that much quicker, or make them slow up and admire the fortitude. Peter took very little notice, just continued his energetic whacking until my cock was stiff as it could be.
Soon his hands started to pull at my underpants and I could feel them being forced down my legs for me to kick them off. I obliged and the spanking continued, cheek after cheek in alternate buttock bouncing blows that had me sharpening my shape yet further to give him the most attractive target possible.
“Stand.” Was the only tribute the spanking was given and I quickly stood to his side. He reached up and undid my shirt buttons and then pushed my shirt off my shoulders. This is another favourite moment of mine. Most spankers and spankee’s seem to be overweight and I am not. Additionally I have a very well defined figure with a broad chest and narrow waist. I knew that none of this was lost on him because I could see a bulge in his cycling shorts.
“Go to the middle of the room.”
I walked around the desk and found the spot he had indicated. He got up and followed, walking around me like a bird with its prey.
“I’m too hot, take my shirt off.”
He was much taller than me and had to bend his neck and head in order to allow me to comply. His chest though, was now fully in view and was everything I’d hoped for. I felt his hand on the back of my head and I allowed myself to be pulled onto his nipple and started to suckle, gently at first but gradually more aggressively. He moved me to the other one and I felt his fingers pulling at mine.
“Kneel.”
I lowered my body first, preserving the contact with his nipples as long as possible but then eventually let it go as I sank in front of him.
“Shorts.”
I reached up and gently pulled his shorts down revealing more of his tummy and thigh tops. I knew that the cock was going to be huge but as it sprang into view was shocked at just how big it actually was. If anything even bigger than the outline had indicated. I pulled his shorts down and off his legs and then sat back on my haunches admiring the view. His legs were apart and his heavy balls slightly squashed by his bulky thighs. He reached down and cupped them forcing his cock a little higher and then motioned me to come forward. I lifted myself above it and felt his spare hand on the back of my head pulling me onto him without preliminaries. He was massive and filled every bit of space in my mouth even making me gag at one point. But I persisted and felt him get deeper and deeper inside. His rhythm was quite fast and regular now with each thrust bringing increased heavy breathing from him and I felt that pre-come shot of air fill my throat. I slowed and he withdrew.
“More of that later.” He motioned to the desk, “Over the desk and grip the other side.”
I did exactly as he had said and felt the cold of the desk under my tummy and chest.
“I’m going to cane you, six here, six kneeling in my chair and six touching your toes.”
“Yes sir.”
The first six weren’t much to challenge the limits but they got me hot and steamy and I could feel his appreciative eyes on my taut buttocks, followed by his sympathetic fingers, tracing the lines he’d left.
“These next six are going to test your mettle a bit more. Into the chair.”
I arranged myself in the chair, back straight and hands resting on the back.
“Knees further into the corner.” He said and I shuffled them forward.
“Bottom out.”
I thrust.
“More.” He added, pulling my waist out to stretch the skin in every direction. It was at this point that I felt his first touch on my balls. He rolled them around in his hand and then put his large fist around them and my cock and squeezed gently but firmly, as though he’d been on the receiving end of this kind of treatment hundreds of time before -in the showers after a rugby match, I mused and felt my cock stiffening further- he responded by dropping the balls and started to wank at my cock alone, broad, rough palm holding it and pulling downward. Then he stopped and stepped back. He tapped at my buttocks to gauge the distance.
“Stay like that and count them out.”
“Yes sir.”
The first was, refreshing, to say the very least. It seemed to grow in impact and in design as the time allowed its fingers to curl into me. I waited until it had subsided into a vague heat.
“One sir.”
He whipped the cane through the air a few times as though to remind me that it was going to be tough and then brought it down suddenly and yet harder than the first. By the time I said “six” I was finding it hard to follow my rule of bottom thrusting but had at least managed to retain the position he had given me.
I saw him moving behind me and then his hands against my hot buttocks, followed by his thighs. I knew what was on his mind, his bouncing knob had been evidence enough throughout my caning and I knew he’d like to slip inside. No way though was I going to be able to take that monstrous thing, I was just too small, virginal and tight. But I let him dream and reached down and pulled his cock up under my balls and shaped my hand around the circumference of him so he could simulate fucking. He got quite carried away and I wondered if it was going to be all over before the final caning. He calmed himself though, and slowly detached his tackle from me.
He circled again and appeared in front of me. I raised my head, opened my mouth and accepted him inside. He was swollen and challenging, moist with pre-come and ground his hips into me like an animal on heat. The remarkable thing is that big men only get bigger, and this one was no exception, his swollen blood-engorged cock now a real struggle for me to contain. Ejaculation seemed imminent and I silently decided to swallow it but he pulled back and out of my mouth just in time, breathing heavily and looking down at me with appreciative eyes that matched my own.
“You’d better go back to the middle of the room and touch your toes.”
“Yes sir.”
Some people seem to think that touching one’s toes makes a caning more painful and that lying flat on one’s tummy is the way to take the hardest caning. In my experience, this is not the case. Floppy, un-stretched flesh seems to fold around the cane making it affect a much bigger area than across taut buttocks. It also means that the precise line that is sliced by the cane is that much smaller making it possible for more strokes to be landed individually and keeping to their own line. In this tautened position I waited for him to deliver his worst.
The six were simply mind-boggling and after the first my pause was so long as to make him wonder if I’d forgotten to count. I hadn’t but my usual silence was decorated by little gasps.
“Too much?”
His voice was quiet.
“No sir. One sir.” I pushed back at the air.
The next landed, equally heavy as the first and by the fifth I had reached that point where ecstasy and pain meet, cross over and I knew I could take very much more.
“Four sir.”
“Four?”
“Oh, sorry sir, three.”
He gathered his thoughts and started again from three, realising that I was on the launching pad and about to take off.
Another landed “Three sir.”
Then another. “Three sir.”
And another “Three sir.”
I quickened the pace by shortening the gap between cane landing and my counting.
The cane bit again “Four sir.”
And again “Four sir.”
Then a pause from him and it striped again. “Five sir.”
Another whistled and stung “Five sir.”
Another -much harder this time. “Five sir.”
Then a bottom tingler with a cruel flick at the end. “Five sir.”
The same stroke landed “Six sir.”
“Well done boy.”
“Thank you sir.”
“Stay as you are.”
Again he moved up behind me and started his simulated fucking motion, his heavy hard cock in my hand and his balls full and swinging. I reached up and licked my hand and returned it to its position to lend some moisture to his efforts. He doubled them, increasing pace and depth of thrust, only stopping to save himself from exploding.
“Stand up.”
I stood straight and erect my own cock bobbing out in front of me in an unusually impressive display. He gripped it and pumped, twisting at my nipple with his hands. I bent my head and once more took one of his nipples into my mouth to tease him yet further. He was gasping aloud and his rasping voice gave away his level of excitement.
“Come over here.”
He went to the chair and sat in it, stretching his legs out in front of him, his body straight and strong. He pulled me on top of him and I lay full-length up and down his body, his arms encircling me. For a second I thought we were going to kiss but the moment was lost as he pushed me down his body. I sank between his legs and gazed up at him as he pulled a packet of condoms from the desk drawer.
“Put this on me.”
I opened it, and leaving the spunk sack at the end rolled it down him
“Now, suck me off.”
“Yes sir.”
To someone as hopelessly perverted as me those words were like a lottery-win. Were it not for the condom it would have been perfect bliss and, not knowing whether the gossamer layer was for my benefit or for his I said nothing but bent to my task. His legs were as wide open as they could be and his heavy loose balls hung like bags of coins between his legs. I weighed them in my left hand and gripped the base of his cock in my right then started to gently squeeze the one and to masturbate the other. I lowered my head, opened my mouth and took him deep inside me, trying as hard as I could to keep my lips in the gentlest form of contact possible.
My mouth took over all ministrations of his invading muscle leaving my hands free to wander where they would. Legs, balls, buttocks, stomach chest and finally resting on the hard bud-like nipples, pinching and squeezing them gently at first but then with increased pressure and passion. His response was no less passionate and I could feel his buttocks rising to meet my bobbing head, his hands at the back of it, gently reminding me through my hair who was in charge.
I knew he wouldn’t be lasting long but the thought of all of that sperm being flushed away inside a rubber bag just filled me with horror and I looked up and intently stared into his eyes. I pulled it off his cock and, still holding it pointing at my face I nodded to the condom.
“May I Sir?”
“What?”
“Remove it.”
“You want to swallow it?”
“Yes sir.”
“Say it.”
“I want to swallow your sperm sir. I want your spunk all over me, my face, in my hair, everywhere.”
“Very well.”
I rolled the prophylactic up and away from him, being careful not to roll any hairs in it as I went then I dropped it beside me and lowered my head once more. This time, and with the ultimate reward in sight I started roaming my tongue around the tip of his knob as though having fun with an ice-cream, licking at it up and down, then round and round, inside the foreskin, around the base of the crown, then slowly peeled back the tight skin all the way, then licking around the flesh behind the palpery. His gasps were now the only sound worth listening to, my own slurping sounds merely serving as background music to his solo instrument. Then I moved up above his cock, opened my throat and swallowed him as far down as I could. My hands now returning to their work on his nipples I fellated him energetically and with a determination to draw as much from him as I possibly could.
His buttocks lifted his cock towards me with each thrust and I felt him nudging at the entrance to my throat. Taking a deep breath I suppressed the urge to panic and allowed him past the tightness of the oesophagus and into my neck. That actually triggered the response I expected but far sooner than I thought. I felt his chest stiffen and saw the muscles in his thighs clench and unclench. I lifted my head slightly off him, then thrust down again and felt the first ripple of his orgasm push into me as his eyes closed and his head fell back. My hand dropped from one nipple and started to roam quickly and gently around his belly, his balls and his thighs. The first jet of spunk hit the back of my throat and I used my other hand to wank down on his exploding cock as he shot into me what seemed like gallons of the stuff. I pulled off at one point and felt another jet hitting my face, then returned to my all-encompassing role of mouth surrounding stirrup pump.
His spasms slowly subsided but seemed to still ripple through him like smaller after shocks, but the sperm slowed. I started kissing his belly as I tried to wank more out of him, then went up and licked at his nipples, then dipped down and sucked more of his juices from his glistening member. By now his body was slumped and the ripples were slowing to almost nothing, I stayed close and hugged him to me, occasionally dipping down and kissing his weapon, inner thighs, loose floppy balls. Then I kissed up his body towards the head of the man. I got to his chest and felt his hand above my head, preventing my further movement. My long hoped-for kiss was held in abeyance by large heavy hands and I remained silent, still and hoping for my reward. Evidently there was some debate going on in my man’s head as held me close to his chest. Then, slowly his hands moved from the top of my head to grip it firmly and soundlessly over my ears and cranium, then slowly pulled me up. Our eyes were mutually locked until the open mouth he offered closed over mine and pulled me hard into him. Beneath me I could feel his body relaxing and moving in a wriggle to accommodate me, full length against his hard muscular body.
The kiss was all I hoped for, stubbly chin against smooth shaved face, probing tongue duelling silently and sloppily inside my mouth. Beneath me I felt his cock stirring once more and realised that I was arousing him again to a level where bottom-splitting A-levels could possibly be the only really satisfying solution for this heavy monster. It stiffened and pushed its way between us, forcing a gap filled only by him. Finally the kiss was broken –by him or by me I do not know but I found myself, again between his legs, irresistibly bringing him to full flight once more, encouraging this monster to take on side splitting proportions and condom filling intent.
As always we had made initial contact via the Internet and were set to meet in a pub in a nearby village. It was high summer and I still felt it necessary to dress in as near to a school-type outfit as I could find; crisp white shirt, smart creased trousers, black shoes and skimpy white underpants.
I was quite surprised therefore when he arrived in casual shorts and tee shirt but, looking at him I could see why he would have done so. His rugby-player build shone through every available gap in his clothing and I could see the outline of his chest muscles and nipples poking hard through the thin material. Strangely it turned me on quite a lot.
We got on well and quickly turned to the matter in hade; my punishment and the scene we were to play out. We quickly agreed on re-creating a school scene with me naturally enough playing the errant school boy and he taking the role of the angry school master. I followed his car back to his house which was remote and lost in the fields and back roads of Sussex. I parked and followed him up the drive and into the house.
His ‘study’ was fairly authentic. Leather chairs and a desk, old furniture and lots of books. We quickly established the more detailed ground-rules and I waited outside the door and knocked. He made me wait for a few moments, just to add to the authenticity, and I was about to repeat my knuckled question when he barked “Enter.”
I walked in.
“You wanted to see me sir?”
“Yes Lightfoot. I’m going to punish you very severely for your tardiness and poor performance. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“What am I going to do boy?”
“You’re going to punish me severely for my transgressions sir.”
“Take your shoes off and come over here.”
“Yes sir.”
I turned away from him and undid my shoes, bending my body in a sharp arch then returned to face him and moved towards him.
“Hands on the desk.”
I leaned forward and placed my hands on the edge of the desk and pushed my bottom out. Given his proclivities I knew this was a tease but wanted to raise his temperature a bit.
He stood to my side, placing his hand in the dip of my waist and started to spank me hard and fast. I pushed back to meet every spank he delivered and soon found the glow beginning to spread throughout my buttocks. His salvo slowed and then stopped.
“Good. No sound at all. Let’s see if you keep that up.”
I knew that this man wasn’t gay but had a feeling that, in spite of himself he may well be tempted into some bi-sexual fun and with his build and physique I really wanted to find out. I felt his hands encircling my waist and in a few moments felt my trousers falling to my ankles and his hands tapping at them signalling me to lift them one by one and permit the garment to be removed completely.
He crossed and sat on the other side of the desk, in his big armchair and looked at me face to face. I played the shame-faced boy but wasn’t very convincing.
“Over.” Was his one word command as he signalled to his lap. I moved round and draped myself across him, feeling my semi-stiff cock between us and his hard thigh beneath. This is possibly the horniest moment of all for me. Not in the sexual part of it but in the feeling of knowing what was about to happen and knowing that I couldn’t now back out.
He stepped straight back into the pace and rhythm he’d recently abandoned and I felt I was facing a challenge. The more so as I started to follow my own rule of pushing back towards each blow to indicate that it could be yet harder. I always do this and it seems to irritate some into really blistering me, which warms everything that much quicker, or make them slow up and admire the fortitude. Peter took very little notice, just continued his energetic whacking until my cock was stiff as it could be.
Soon his hands started to pull at my underpants and I could feel them being forced down my legs for me to kick them off. I obliged and the spanking continued, cheek after cheek in alternate buttock bouncing blows that had me sharpening my shape yet further to give him the most attractive target possible.
“Stand.” Was the only tribute the spanking was given and I quickly stood to his side. He reached up and undid my shirt buttons and then pushed my shirt off my shoulders. This is another favourite moment of mine. Most spankers and spankee’s seem to be overweight and I am not. Additionally I have a very well defined figure with a broad chest and narrow waist. I knew that none of this was lost on him because I could see a bulge in his cycling shorts.
“Go to the middle of the room.”
I walked around the desk and found the spot he had indicated. He got up and followed, walking around me like a bird with its prey.
“I’m too hot, take my shirt off.”
He was much taller than me and had to bend his neck and head in order to allow me to comply. His chest though, was now fully in view and was everything I’d hoped for. I felt his hand on the back of my head and I allowed myself to be pulled onto his nipple and started to suckle, gently at first but gradually more aggressively. He moved me to the other one and I felt his fingers pulling at mine.
“Kneel.”
I lowered my body first, preserving the contact with his nipples as long as possible but then eventually let it go as I sank in front of him.
“Shorts.”
I reached up and gently pulled his shorts down revealing more of his tummy and thigh tops. I knew that the cock was going to be huge but as it sprang into view was shocked at just how big it actually was. If anything even bigger than the outline had indicated. I pulled his shorts down and off his legs and then sat back on my haunches admiring the view. His legs were apart and his heavy balls slightly squashed by his bulky thighs. He reached down and cupped them forcing his cock a little higher and then motioned me to come forward. I lifted myself above it and felt his spare hand on the back of my head pulling me onto him without preliminaries. He was massive and filled every bit of space in my mouth even making me gag at one point. But I persisted and felt him get deeper and deeper inside. His rhythm was quite fast and regular now with each thrust bringing increased heavy breathing from him and I felt that pre-come shot of air fill my throat. I slowed and he withdrew.
“More of that later.” He motioned to the desk, “Over the desk and grip the other side.”
I did exactly as he had said and felt the cold of the desk under my tummy and chest.
“I’m going to cane you, six here, six kneeling in my chair and six touching your toes.”
“Yes sir.”
The first six weren’t much to challenge the limits but they got me hot and steamy and I could feel his appreciative eyes on my taut buttocks, followed by his sympathetic fingers, tracing the lines he’d left.
“These next six are going to test your mettle a bit more. Into the chair.”
I arranged myself in the chair, back straight and hands resting on the back.
“Knees further into the corner.” He said and I shuffled them forward.
“Bottom out.”
I thrust.
“More.” He added, pulling my waist out to stretch the skin in every direction. It was at this point that I felt his first touch on my balls. He rolled them around in his hand and then put his large fist around them and my cock and squeezed gently but firmly, as though he’d been on the receiving end of this kind of treatment hundreds of time before -in the showers after a rugby match, I mused and felt my cock stiffening further- he responded by dropping the balls and started to wank at my cock alone, broad, rough palm holding it and pulling downward. Then he stopped and stepped back. He tapped at my buttocks to gauge the distance.
“Stay like that and count them out.”
“Yes sir.”
The first was, refreshing, to say the very least. It seemed to grow in impact and in design as the time allowed its fingers to curl into me. I waited until it had subsided into a vague heat.
“One sir.”
He whipped the cane through the air a few times as though to remind me that it was going to be tough and then brought it down suddenly and yet harder than the first. By the time I said “six” I was finding it hard to follow my rule of bottom thrusting but had at least managed to retain the position he had given me.
I saw him moving behind me and then his hands against my hot buttocks, followed by his thighs. I knew what was on his mind, his bouncing knob had been evidence enough throughout my caning and I knew he’d like to slip inside. No way though was I going to be able to take that monstrous thing, I was just too small, virginal and tight. But I let him dream and reached down and pulled his cock up under my balls and shaped my hand around the circumference of him so he could simulate fucking. He got quite carried away and I wondered if it was going to be all over before the final caning. He calmed himself though, and slowly detached his tackle from me.
He circled again and appeared in front of me. I raised my head, opened my mouth and accepted him inside. He was swollen and challenging, moist with pre-come and ground his hips into me like an animal on heat. The remarkable thing is that big men only get bigger, and this one was no exception, his swollen blood-engorged cock now a real struggle for me to contain. Ejaculation seemed imminent and I silently decided to swallow it but he pulled back and out of my mouth just in time, breathing heavily and looking down at me with appreciative eyes that matched my own.
“You’d better go back to the middle of the room and touch your toes.”
“Yes sir.”
Some people seem to think that touching one’s toes makes a caning more painful and that lying flat on one’s tummy is the way to take the hardest caning. In my experience, this is not the case. Floppy, un-stretched flesh seems to fold around the cane making it affect a much bigger area than across taut buttocks. It also means that the precise line that is sliced by the cane is that much smaller making it possible for more strokes to be landed individually and keeping to their own line. In this tautened position I waited for him to deliver his worst.
The six were simply mind-boggling and after the first my pause was so long as to make him wonder if I’d forgotten to count. I hadn’t but my usual silence was decorated by little gasps.
“Too much?”
His voice was quiet.
“No sir. One sir.” I pushed back at the air.
The next landed, equally heavy as the first and by the fifth I had reached that point where ecstasy and pain meet, cross over and I knew I could take very much more.
“Four sir.”
“Four?”
“Oh, sorry sir, three.”
He gathered his thoughts and started again from three, realising that I was on the launching pad and about to take off.
Another landed “Three sir.”
Then another. “Three sir.”
And another “Three sir.”
I quickened the pace by shortening the gap between cane landing and my counting.
The cane bit again “Four sir.”
And again “Four sir.”
Then a pause from him and it striped again. “Five sir.”
Another whistled and stung “Five sir.”
Another -much harder this time. “Five sir.”
Then a bottom tingler with a cruel flick at the end. “Five sir.”
The same stroke landed “Six sir.”
“Well done boy.”
“Thank you sir.”
“Stay as you are.”
Again he moved up behind me and started his simulated fucking motion, his heavy hard cock in my hand and his balls full and swinging. I reached up and licked my hand and returned it to its position to lend some moisture to his efforts. He doubled them, increasing pace and depth of thrust, only stopping to save himself from exploding.
“Stand up.”
I stood straight and erect my own cock bobbing out in front of me in an unusually impressive display. He gripped it and pumped, twisting at my nipple with his hands. I bent my head and once more took one of his nipples into my mouth to tease him yet further. He was gasping aloud and his rasping voice gave away his level of excitement.
“Come over here.”
He went to the chair and sat in it, stretching his legs out in front of him, his body straight and strong. He pulled me on top of him and I lay full-length up and down his body, his arms encircling me. For a second I thought we were going to kiss but the moment was lost as he pushed me down his body. I sank between his legs and gazed up at him as he pulled a packet of condoms from the desk drawer.
“Put this on me.”
I opened it, and leaving the spunk sack at the end rolled it down him
“Now, suck me off.”
“Yes sir.”
To someone as hopelessly perverted as me those words were like a lottery-win. Were it not for the condom it would have been perfect bliss and, not knowing whether the gossamer layer was for my benefit or for his I said nothing but bent to my task. His legs were as wide open as they could be and his heavy loose balls hung like bags of coins between his legs. I weighed them in my left hand and gripped the base of his cock in my right then started to gently squeeze the one and to masturbate the other. I lowered my head, opened my mouth and took him deep inside me, trying as hard as I could to keep my lips in the gentlest form of contact possible.
My mouth took over all ministrations of his invading muscle leaving my hands free to wander where they would. Legs, balls, buttocks, stomach chest and finally resting on the hard bud-like nipples, pinching and squeezing them gently at first but then with increased pressure and passion. His response was no less passionate and I could feel his buttocks rising to meet my bobbing head, his hands at the back of it, gently reminding me through my hair who was in charge.
I knew he wouldn’t be lasting long but the thought of all of that sperm being flushed away inside a rubber bag just filled me with horror and I looked up and intently stared into his eyes. I pulled it off his cock and, still holding it pointing at my face I nodded to the condom.
“May I Sir?”
“What?”
“Remove it.”
“You want to swallow it?”
“Yes sir.”
“Say it.”
“I want to swallow your sperm sir. I want your spunk all over me, my face, in my hair, everywhere.”
“Very well.”
I rolled the prophylactic up and away from him, being careful not to roll any hairs in it as I went then I dropped it beside me and lowered my head once more. This time, and with the ultimate reward in sight I started roaming my tongue around the tip of his knob as though having fun with an ice-cream, licking at it up and down, then round and round, inside the foreskin, around the base of the crown, then slowly peeled back the tight skin all the way, then licking around the flesh behind the palpery. His gasps were now the only sound worth listening to, my own slurping sounds merely serving as background music to his solo instrument. Then I moved up above his cock, opened my throat and swallowed him as far down as I could. My hands now returning to their work on his nipples I fellated him energetically and with a determination to draw as much from him as I possibly could.
His buttocks lifted his cock towards me with each thrust and I felt him nudging at the entrance to my throat. Taking a deep breath I suppressed the urge to panic and allowed him past the tightness of the oesophagus and into my neck. That actually triggered the response I expected but far sooner than I thought. I felt his chest stiffen and saw the muscles in his thighs clench and unclench. I lifted my head slightly off him, then thrust down again and felt the first ripple of his orgasm push into me as his eyes closed and his head fell back. My hand dropped from one nipple and started to roam quickly and gently around his belly, his balls and his thighs. The first jet of spunk hit the back of my throat and I used my other hand to wank down on his exploding cock as he shot into me what seemed like gallons of the stuff. I pulled off at one point and felt another jet hitting my face, then returned to my all-encompassing role of mouth surrounding stirrup pump.
His spasms slowly subsided but seemed to still ripple through him like smaller after shocks, but the sperm slowed. I started kissing his belly as I tried to wank more out of him, then went up and licked at his nipples, then dipped down and sucked more of his juices from his glistening member. By now his body was slumped and the ripples were slowing to almost nothing, I stayed close and hugged him to me, occasionally dipping down and kissing his weapon, inner thighs, loose floppy balls. Then I kissed up his body towards the head of the man. I got to his chest and felt his hand above my head, preventing my further movement. My long hoped-for kiss was held in abeyance by large heavy hands and I remained silent, still and hoping for my reward. Evidently there was some debate going on in my man’s head as held me close to his chest. Then, slowly his hands moved from the top of my head to grip it firmly and soundlessly over my ears and cranium, then slowly pulled me up. Our eyes were mutually locked until the open mouth he offered closed over mine and pulled me hard into him. Beneath me I could feel his body relaxing and moving in a wriggle to accommodate me, full length against his hard muscular body.
The kiss was all I hoped for, stubbly chin against smooth shaved face, probing tongue duelling silently and sloppily inside my mouth. Beneath me I felt his cock stirring once more and realised that I was arousing him again to a level where bottom-splitting A-levels could possibly be the only really satisfying solution for this heavy monster. It stiffened and pushed its way between us, forcing a gap filled only by him. Finally the kiss was broken –by him or by me I do not know but I found myself, again between his legs, irresistibly bringing him to full flight once more, encouraging this monster to take on side splitting proportions and condom filling intent.