Making a dominant top my bitch: Part 1

bound stud

Muscle-boy

Like many people who embrace the fetish community, I favor a particular set of scenes yet am open to experiment across the board depending on my ever-changing mood. As any of you who have stumbled across one of my online profiles already know, I identify as a dominant bondage top. Lately, however, I have been leaning towards non-sexual bondage play with men who may not necessarily identify as submissive. My current Recon profile states it best:

I’m currently looking for a local muscular sub who would enjoy meeting on a regular basis for bondage play and consensual SM scenes: Someone who has worked hard to perfect his body and is tired of guys wanting to worship him. I enjoy ropeplay and various degrees of restraint, blindfolds, edging/cum-control, forced workouts, choke/submission holds, nip play, cbt, and spanking/pain administration. I can be gentle or rough, but tend to be passionate rather than mechanical. I’m not mean or degrading by nature so I’m not your man if you are looking for that.

My play does not need to be sexual and is often better when my mind is on my boy rather than my dick – I am more about the mind-play and physical contact than using a man simply to get off. I prefer making a man submit to me rather than simply finding a submissive man: If you understand that concept we will get along just fine.

I received a response last night from a random local boy stating he is a dominant top and has no interest in being fucked, yet has been fantasizing about being overpowered and rendered helpless by an older, larger Daddy. His face is blocked by his phone in all three of his photos but he is sporting a ripped, muscular body, so I sent him my mobile number and instructed him to text me if he was serious. His text came through within a minute and while I learned very little about him, he was saying all the right things such as “Sir” and “please” and “you can do anything as long as you promise not to fuck.” This sounded too good to be true but being the ridiculously reckless person I am, I had him agree to report to me today in … well, in a few minutes. Continue reading

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Poolside Quickie

pool studNeeding to escape reality for a day, I drive the 90 miles to Palm Springs and get a room at one of the city’s clothing-optional gay resorts. The cute blond boy at the counter jokes about me having the resort to myself, as it appears I am one of only seven guests staying at this 30-room hotel tonight. That’s fine with me: It’s 112 degrees and I am more interested in relaxing by the pool than cruising random guys.

I step into my room and am blasted with the cool air of my large suite. I toss my bag on the dinning room table, peel out of my sweaty clothes and drop onto the large bed with a sigh.

I didn’t intend to take a nap, yet wake to the heavy shadows of sunset. Looking through the curtains, I see the place is still deserted: I’m guessing the few people staying here are probably at dinner. Dinner sounds good but the pool sounds better, so I step out of my room and jump into the pool. The water is warm and I float on my back to admire the sunset-streaked sky.

“Hi,” a random voice says from my right, startling me.

Some guy I didn’t notice is in the pool with me, leaning back against the tiled border. I stand, realizing the pool is only 5’ deep or so, and return the greeting. He has red-blond wavy hair, a well-manicured beard, and is sitting on the stairs leading into the pool so that only his head is above the water. I can’t guess his age due to his dark sunglasses.

He asks me if I’m here alone and confirms he is as well. His name is Dan, he’s a Realtor from Missoula and has an interesting accent I’m guessing isn’t from Montana. He stands and stretches, obviously showing off his muscular chest and massive arms. He’s a big fucker with a furry, freckled chest and a complicated tat on his left arm.

I do my best not to stare, though subtlety was never one of my strengths.

Dan sets his glasses down and takes a step towards me. “You horny?”

I nod. So much for subtlety, right? Continue reading

Don’t Tell Mom, Part 3: Breaking all the rules

Step-Dad(Read part 1 here)

I know I’m insane to be doing this, but here I am jacking off and licking my step-dad’s chest while he is passed out in his bed: The bed my mother slept in up until she left Mitch and I last month for some guy in Utah. I know it’s wrong on so many levels, but I’m getting close to shootings and can’t stop.

My eyes are locked on the growing bulge in Mitch’s white boxer briefs. I move to rub his crotch when Mitch wakes with a gasp and grabs the back of my head before I know what is happening. He holds my head against his chest as his eyes slowly focus on me. I can’t bring myself to take a breath.

“Kevin?” Mitch mumbles, sounding somewhat like an accusation rather than a question. “What the fuck are you doing?”

I don’t make a sound: There’s nothing I can possibly say to make this right. I turn my head to see his green eyes trying to make sense of the situation. Mitch’s muscular body is tense but he looks more confused than angry, and I suspect he may still be drunk. Aware Mitch can easily kick my ass without even working up a sweat, I quickly weigh my options and choose the path of greatest resistance and greatest potential reward. Mitch isn’t a violent man and I figure the worst that he’ll do is knock me out of his bed.

That, and kick me out of his house.

Continue reading

Don’t Tell Mom, Part 2: Crossing the Line

Step-Dad(You can read part 1 here)

It’s been two weeks since my step-dad walked into my bedroom to find my buddy giving me a blow job and he still hasn’t said a word about it. I’m not sure what to make of it, but he doesn’t seem to care.

It’s 3:00 am on a Friday night and I’m laying here in bed on top of my sheets, trying not to think of my step-dad, Mitch. Thinking about him makes my dick hard, but I can’t stop thinking about him. Mitch stayed out late with his buddies, probably at some bar, but I heard him come home over an hour ago. The house is silent and I assume he is asleep.

I wonder if Mitch sleeps naked.

My right hand slides under my sweat pants as I picture Mitch’s muscular body asleep in his bed, lying on his stomach with the covers down past his ass. I imagine sneaking into his room and sliding into his bed—the bed he used to fuck my mother in—and him wrapping his massive arm around me and pulling me into him. I stroke my dick, imagining it is his big hand rather than mine, and I picture him curling up behind me so that I can feel his hard cock throbbing against my smooth ass. I lick my middle finger push it inside my ass, wishing it was Mitch’s cock pushing into me instead.

I want it to be real so bad I swear I can smell him, can taste him. This is crazy. I need to stop jacking off and get some sleep. I force my hands away, yawn, and stretch my arms over my head. My pits stink and I need to piss.

I roll out of bed, pull on my boxers and head down the hall towards the bathroom. There’s a soft light coming from the open door of the master bedroom and I can’t stop myself from peeking inside to find Mitch, stripped down to a hot pair of white boxer briefs, asleep on his back. Continue reading

The Younger Man – Part 2

221844.55540046_500(Click here to read Part 1 of this story)

I allow Trent to continue sleeping for fifteen minutes or so until the sensation of my throbbing cock against his muscular ass begins to drive me insane. I lick the back of his neck and chew on his ear until he finally turns toward me with a smile. “You let me fall asleep.”

“Just a little bit.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

I want to tell him how much I love watching him sleep, having his young muscled body against me in my bed like this, and that I would happily lie here all night. Instead, I say “I wanted you to build up enough energy for round two.” Continue reading

The Younger Man, Part 1

younger manTrent hit me up online a few weeks ago and has been aggressively pursuing me until I finally agreed—against my better judgment—to invite him over tonight. Don’t get me wrong: I have no complaint about a sexy, muscular jock wanting to climb into my bed; but I’m a little wary about our difference in age. I just celebrated my forty-seventh birthday last week, making me 24 years older than Trent.

He shows up at my door with a hint of a smirk on his scruffy face, his hazel eyes dancing as he introduces himself. At 5’10” he is only a few inches shorter than me but his lean, athletic body makes me feel like a giant in comparison. He pats me on the arm like an old friend and glances around my living room before finally looking up at me. This boy is fucking beautiful, yet oddly masculine for someone so young. Continue reading

Steamy Black Cock

big black cock

Shoulder-deep in one of the hot tubs here in the Mandalay Bay’s spa, I’m doing my best to relax after an insane three days in Vegas. I seem to be the only person in here today and it’s actually a little creepy. I pull myself out of the water, wrap a towel around my waist, and step into the dry sauna. Again, I am the only person to be seen, and I have to wonder if it is always this dead on a weekday in September. Maybe everyone is out at the pool?

I begin to dry out, so I grab a bottle of water and an iced towel and step into the steam room. I inhale the scent of eucalyptus and sit down on the lower shelf. As expected, I am the only person in here so I lean my head back against the upper step, down the bottle of water, and place the cold towel over my eyes.

The door opens after a few minutes but I don’t even bother to look. I assume it is just one of the spa employees but I can sense someone sitting down on the tiled shelf across from me. Trying to look casual, I remove the towel from my face so I can get a look: The guy is thin, Black, and probably in his fifties or sixties. He has a bald head and, in fact, the only hair he seems to have anywhere is a graying beard and a small patch of hair over his thick flaccid dick. He opens his eyes and notices me looking at him. I look up at the ceiling, feeling stupid, and try to relax again. Continue reading