by K. C. Wells
That slow tongue was back, lapping at my entrance, pushing at the ring, getting me wet.
Getting me ready for his cock.
I couldn’t help myself. My knees buckled at the thought of Damon’s fat dick splitting my ass. Oh, I’d seen it, all right. Damon had been sunning himself on a towel in his yard, his body oiled and gleaming in the sun. I’d watched him lying there, hand slowly coaxing his cock into fullness. I recalled the heat that flooded through me, heat that had nothing to do with the temperature that summer’s afternoon, and everything to do with the massive man-meat between Damon’s legs.
Man-meat that I wanted to fucking own me.
I gave a jolt when Damon slid a finger into my hole, his tongue licking around it. Fuck, even his fingers are wide. I bit back my groan when he pulled free, and spat out a low moan of pleasure when finally, his tongue explored me, probing me. Damon’s hum of satisfaction sent prickles all over my skin.
“Your ass tastes good,” he murmured, before diving back in, licking into my hole, forcing his tongue deeper into me. I couldn’t keep still. I pushed back, desperate for more. If my hands had been free I would have pushed his face deep into my crack.
And damn it, Damon knew it. The wry chuckle that echoed was proof. “Yeah, you like that, don’tcha?” He began to alternate between his tongue and his finger, each time pushing deeper inside me. I rocked my hips, taking more of him into me. When he added a second finger, I wanted to cry out in triumph. Yes! More, goddamn it, more. Damon fingered me, first one finger, then two, then back to one, until I was dancing on his fingers, hips jerking. My cock was rigid against my belly, painting it with sticky trails, leaking constantly.
When two fingers became three, Christ, I felt so fucking stretched.
Damon had those three fingers wedged deep in my ass, his hand pumping my dick. “Ever thought about being fisted, Pete?” His deep voice dropped even lower.
Shockwaves ricocheted through me. Oh my fucking God. I froze, but the image was there in my head. Me on my back, Damon between my spread legs, his arm buried up to the wrist in my body. I trembled—no, I fucking shook.
Instantly those fingers inside me stilled. “Not talking about now,” he said quietly, “but fuck, just the thought of putting my hand inside you makes me so fucking hard.” Slowly he fucked me with his fingers, my hole loosening more with each slow slide. “You an’ me, Pete. Fuck, the things I’d love to do to ya. Things I’ve been waiting to do with ya.”
My stab of panic had passed. His words were making me hot. Making me want.
“Christ, you’re hard. You fucking like that idea, don’tcha? Me doing things to ya?” His fingers moved faster, slid deeper, and I trembled with pleasure when he nudged my gland. “There we go.” His voice brimmed with satisfaction and he stroked over my prostate again and again, until my legs felt like brittle glass and my dick leaked copious amounts of pre-cum. “What you thinking about, Pete? What’s your imagination showing ya? Me putting you in my sling and fucking ya? Bending you over my bench and plowing your ass? Or maybe bringing round some of my friends so we can take turns reaming your hole, all night long?”
Oh Jesus. Jesus. “D-Damon, Christ, what you’re doing to me…”
He growled, the sound coming from somewhere deep. “Fuck, yeah, Pete. I’ve waited long enough to get you just where I want ya.” I groaned when he pulled his fingers out of me, but my disappointment soon fled when my cheeks were pulled roughly apart and his tongue was pushing at my hole, demanding entrance.
I tilted my hips, crying out, my voice quavering. “Oh fucking hell, yeah. Don’t stop. Eat my fucking boy pussy!” I let out a brief yip of surprise when he slapped my butt cheek, but thankfully he didn’t stop, just kept right on fucking me with his tongue. I rotated my hips and he let me, darting and flickering his tongue in and out of my hole. My breathing quickened. Wet sounds filled the basement as Damon licked and sucked at my hole, until all I could think about was getting his dick inside me. “Please, Damon, now, fuck me now,” I begged. I howled with frustration when he stopped and began finger-fucking me once more. “For fuck’s sake, Damon, fuck me!” My cock was hard and aching, and I knew I couldn’t take much more. At this rate, I’d come the minute he was inside me.
Damon gave the head of my cock a thump, the jolt of pain slicing through to my groin and settling in my balls, leaving an uneasy feeling in my gut as I cried out.
“I thought you needed a little reminder of who’s in charge,” he snapped. I could hear the displeasure rumble in his voice. There was a moment when I knew he’d moved away from me, when I could no longer feel his body heat. Then he was back, and the sound of a foil tearing sent a wave of savage hunger through me. Damon laughed. “Yeah, that got your attention.” He moved closer, until I could feel the heat pouring off him. “You ready to get split open?”
I was so fucking ready. In that moment I was hyper aware of everything: the shackles binding me to the cross, my legs wide; his hands on my ass, spreading me; his latex-covered dick, slick with lube, sliding through my crack; the feel of his pubic hair against my butt and his hot breath on my neck, his breathing as rapid as mine.
Damon pressed the head of his cock against my hole and eased it into me. I shuddered, recalling the wide, flared head I’d seen when I’d spied on him. I whimpered when he pulled free of me, only to let out a sigh of pleasure when he entered me once more, this time inching a little farther into me. He repeated this a few times, and each time I could feel my hole relax more and more, until he was sliding deeper into me. “Fuck, your hole just swallows my dick.” He inched all the way into me, until I felt his hips snug against my ass.
Christ, I felt full. “God, you’ve got a fat dick,” I gasped. I swore I could feel every inch of it inside me, stretching me.
“That’s it, I’m all the way in.” Damon gripped my hips and began to thrust, slowly at first, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back into me. He held me in place and filled me with long, slow strokes of his cock, his breathing quickening a little, clearly audible in the quiet basement. “Christ, Pete, your boy-hole was made to be fucked.”
My face heated up at his coarse words, but I was filled with a sense of pride.
“Tell me how it feels,” he demanded, picking up speed, his thrusts becoming more fluid as he got into his stride. “Because right now your ass is gripping my cock like a fist.”
“Feels good,” I blurted out. God, had I ever taken a dick that felt this fucking good? “Feels like you… you’re splitting my ass in two.” Right then Damon shoved into me, hard, and I gasped. “Fuck, you’re deep.” I struggled to breathe evenly. “God, Damon, not sure I can hold it back. All I want right now is for you to pound my ass with that big fucking cock and make me cum.” My whole body ached to cum.
Damon let go of my hip and tugged at my balls. “No cumming, remember?” He slid into me, moving faster, burying his dick in me. “Forget what I said. You’re fucking tight, and hot, so hot on my cock.” Hips snapping, flesh striking flesh, like a slap. “More. I want to hear more about how it feels.” A brief flare of pain jolted through me when he slapped my ass.
“Fuck!” I wasn’t about to tell him the truth, that no one had ever fucked me like this. Fuck, why had I wasted my time with twinks, when all the while this fucking hot bear of a man was just next door? “Love it when you’re deep. When you—” The words died on my tongue when Damon grabbed me around the throat and began to fuck me with animalistic abandon, his fingers tightening as his thrusts sped up. The world got a little hazy and sparkly, until I felt sure I was about to pass out. He eased his grip and I gulped in air, my body shaking as he stilled inside me.
Oh my fucking God. How had he known?
Damon seized my hair and yanked my head back. “Like that? Did it feel good?” His gaze bored into me. “Yeah, you liked it. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t wanna be fucked like a little queer bitch.”
I wanted to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Fuck, yeah.” His thrusts punched the air from my lungs, his hips slamming into my ass. Damon let go and pushed down on my lower back, tilting my ass higher. Now each glide of his cock connected with my gland. “Jesus, yes. Yes, Damon, just like that.” I wanted more, craved more. “Harder.”
Damon laughed. “Yeah, there’s my little slut-boy.” He covered me with his body, and I could feel the sweat dripping off him. “Say it again.”
“Harder.” I raised my voice, which shook as he powered into me, deep and hard. “Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, just like that!” He slowed down and I screamed. “Fuck, no! Don’t fucking stop!”
Damon didn’t change the pace, just kept his thrusts slow and even. It was driving me crazy. And that bastard was loving every minute of it. “You like this with all the guys who fuck ya?” he drawled.
“No,” I growled, forcing myself to stay calm. “No one has ever made me want to beg, like I’m begging you now. Damon, for the love of God, just fuck the shit out of me, okay?”
He held himself so still inside me that I thought for a second I’d really fucked it up. When he finally spoke, his voice sent a cold shiver down my spine, as if he’d let loose the hunger raging inside him.
“You got it.”
The next moment I was pushed against the cross. Damon pulled my cheeks apart and began to slam into me with long, earth-shuddering thrusts. Each shove of his cock sent him crashing into me, hammering my ass.
“Fuck. Damon, yes, fucking yes.” I couldn’t move, pinned by his body while he ravaged my hole, hips rocking, his rhythm frenetic, energetic—goddamn perfect. I trembled as his fingers dug deeper into the fleshy part of my ass, and then howled when he sank his teeth into my shoulder, the pain giving an edge to his fucking that sent me over, my balls tight against my body. Fuck, no. My dick throbbed. Electricity rocketed up my spine. Oh fucking hell, no! I fought it, clawing to rein in the ecstasy that ripped through me, pulsed inside me in a wave of heat.
Too late. My cock erupted, jetting hot spunk onto the floor, and I sagged against my bonds.
Damon tensed behind me, hands tight on my hips. “Fuck, you’re making me cum.” He thrust hard and froze.
Oh God. I could feel his orgasm, feel his dick pumping cum into the condom, feel his heart beating, his breath on my neck. I groaned, the sound pouring out of me. Damon’s head dropped to my shoulder, his breathing harsh and staccato, his cock still twitching inside me. A full body shiver rippled through me as the implications set in.
Oh fuck. Damon was gonna punish me.
My heart pounded when he stirred behind me and reached up to free my wrists from the restraints. He rubbed vigorously over the skin. I stood there, trembling, my mind focused on one thing while he crouched down to unfasten the shackles around my ankles.
What’s he gonna do to me?
Finally free, I turned to face him. I took in the rise and fall of his wide furred chest, damp with sweat, his cock, still half-hard, still encased in the condom that was full of his spunk. What unnerved me, however, was his shiteating grin.
Damon shook his head. “Petey-boy, you came all over my nice, clean playroom floor.” He folded his arms across his chest.
Shit. “Damon, it… it just felt too fucking good.” I struggled to breathe evenly.
Damon stopped my words with a finger across my lips. “On your hands and knees, right now. Clean it up.” When I stared at him, that grin widened. “With your tongue.”
I shuddered. He was serious. I took a breath, lowered myself onto my knees and brought my head down to the gray vinyl tiles that covered the basement floor.
Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been a lot worse.
“Good boy,” Damon’s voice echoed above me. “Make sure you get it all.”
Slowly I lapped up the cold, sticky cum, making sure not one drop remained. By the time I straightened, he’d pulled off the condom and was standing, feet slightly apart, his dick sticky with his jizz, that grin still in evidence. “Now suck my cock.” His voice was husky, his shaft already trying to rise.
I crawled closer and waited while he grasped his dick and painted my lips with the sticky fluid. I licked them and then took him into my mouth, running my tongue over the head, before sucking him deeper. He grabbed my hair, his fists so tight that tears burned on my cheeks as he pulled on the strands.
“Fuck, yeah, clean it, pussy boy.”
My chest swelled with pride to hear the hitch in his breathing and the hoarse tone in his voice. I sucked hard, feeling his shaft thicken and lengthen in my mouth. This was my opportunity to appease him, to make up for my orgasm without permission. This was my moment to shine.
I was born to be a cocksucker.
Damon moved his hands to my head and held me steady, thrusting slowly into me, hips rocking gently as he eased his dick deeper into me, until he was fully erect, the head bumping the back of my throat. I thanked God for the lack of a gag reflex and deepthroated him, swallowing around that thick cock, listening to his breathing sharpen and quicken.
“Fucking God,” he said weakly.
Yes! I grabbed onto his ass and squeezed hard, pulling him deeper. Damon let out a snarl and started to fuck my face, his fingers taking tight hold of my hair. I relaxed my throat and let him, and it wasn’t long before his dick swelled in my mouth and he was coming again, pumping hot cum down my throat. I swallowed hard, taking it all, every last drop, until he was spent. I eased him free and cleaned his cock with my tongue, taking my time, worshiping it.
When I was done, Damon grabbed me under my pits and hauled me to my feet. My mouth was taken in a brutal kiss, sucking on my tongue, my bottom lip. He broke away from me and stepped back, his breathing still uneven. He studied me for a moment, until I was squirming from being under such careful scrutiny.
Damon grinned. “Same time next week?”
AFTER
Damon hasn’t had many curveballs thrown his way, and when life manages this, he can usually dodge them.
But not this one.
This one bites him – right in the rear end.
AFTER
Okay, this is a dream.
That wasn’t my ceiling up there. Those weren’t my drapes. And…
I stopped assessing the furnishings when cool hands spread my ass and a very wet tongue licked long and slow over my hole, accompanied by a drawn-out, satisfied hum.
Fuck, that feels good.
As dreams went, this was a damn good one. I didn’t have a fucking clue who I was dreaming about, but fuck, that tongue was working my asshole good. I shuddered as it pushed insistently at my hole, then alternating with a long, broad lick across it. I went to grab my mystery Ass Eater’s head to push him deeper into my crack, but….
What the fuck? I was tied down. Wrists. Ankles. My body tensed and I pulled on my restraints, testing them. I twisted my head to look, and saw my wrists handcuffed to the posts. I tried to ease out of them but the metal bit into the delicate skin on my wrist. My legs were allowed some movement, so I guessed there were long straps tethered to the bed posts, cuffs at the end of them. I was still going nowhere, however.
Instantly I was very much awake.
Who the FUCK had me in cuffs? I growled. “What the fuck is going on here?” I yelped as someone bit into my ass cheek. “Yow! Cut that out!”
A familiar chuckle. “Good morning.” Another chuckle, and then that warm tongue was back, lapping where the teeth had sunk in, soothing away the sting.
“Pete?” My neighbor, Pete? Nah, it couldn’t be him. Little fucker didn’t have the balls. I strained my neck, trying to see, but Christ, that hurt. Somewhere inside my head, something was chipping away at my skull with a rock hammer, and I knew what that meant. Too much alcohol the night before. And whoever was down there wasn’t helping none, either: it was damn near impossible to think straight while he was lick, lick, licking my ass, pushing his tongue against my pucker. “Fuck, don’t stop,” I gritted out, pushing down hard, wanting more. Loved it when a guy ate my ass. My cock hurt as it throbbed, so flushed with blood I swore it was about ready to pop. I was dripping too, right onto my belly, all that stickiness creating a nice little mess in my body hair.
But I wanted more, needed more. Like that guy’s face deeper in my crack, that wicked tongue as far in my hole as it would go. I wanted to plant my hands in his hair and fucking hold him there, until I shot my load down his fucking throat….
Except I was still tied the fuck down.
“Get me outta these things,” I ground out, pulling my wrists against their restraints.
That tongue stopped working its magic. “Unlike a cat, I only have the one life.” He cackled. “And I intend to hold on to it.” He went right back to rimming my ass.
How the fuck could I stay mad at him when he was doing that? And this time there was no doubt: it was Pete.
That was when the teasing started. A slow circle of my hole, so slow that I was close to screaming at him, wanting him to hurry the fuck up and fuck me with it. Only he didn’t, the little shit. He just kept right on with that damned lap, lap, lapping, until all I wanted was to get my fingers curled in his hair and hold him there till I’d had enough. And all the while my poor, neglected dick was leaking precum in sticky trails across my belly, twitching each time the little fucker dipped his tongue into my hole.
My head was still aching. Had I drunk that much last night?
“God, you taste good,” Pete whispered, his breath warm against my hole, making my ring contract while little electric prickles danced across my balls. That goddamn tongue flickered in and out of me, so good, nerves endings lighting up like a fucking Christmas tree. He licked a path over my taint, his tongue dragging over my sac, before tracing its way up my hard as steel cock.
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