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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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

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

Taking home the trainer

my trainer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Done with another session in which I am convinced my trainer is trying to kill me, I limp back towards the locker room and am stopped by another of the trainers whom I’ve never met but have seen around. Like most of the trainers here at Gold’s gym, he is young and in great shape.

“Hey man, I’m Levi,” he says. “Jon told me you’re a massage therapist.”

Jon is my totally hot—and totally straight—trainer. I nod. “That’s right.”

“Any chance you can work out a knot, bro? I tweaked my back this morning and I can’t work it out.”

I want to laugh when he calls me “bro”, but, considering I am easily twenty years his senior, I’m lucky he didn’t call me “Sir”. “I specialize in deep tissue work,” I explain with a smile, trying my best not to overtly check him out. Levi is around my height of 6’, has cropped light brown hair and bright blue eyes. He has smooth, pale skin and looks pretty ripped from what little I can see past his gym pants and black polo shirt. He’s skinnier than the guys who usually catch my attention, but he’s a handsome guy. Continue reading

Blind Date

blindfoldI make it to the Embassy Suites right on time and navigate my way through the large atrium of a lobby. I locate the second phone to the right of the elevators and, as promised, find the key card hidden underneath it. Key in hand, I head up to his room and open the door onto a large, dark hotel room illuminated only by the city lights coming in through the partially drawn curtains. I remain by the door for a minute to allow my eyes to adjust. Slowly, I focus on my prize: The dude I met on Adam4Adam lying naked on his back, head hanging over the foot of the bed, blindfolded with what looks like a black undershirt.

I step towards him, scanning the room for anyone lurking in the shadowy corners. I’m a little nervous, which is always hot, and my cock is doing it’s best to push its way out of my pants. I drop to my knees so that my face is more level with his and inspect the merchandise. He has dark brown hair – long enough to grab yet short enough for the business exec visiting from Atlanta he claims to be. He is clean shaven and looks fairly pale in this light. He gasps when I trace my index finger across his Adam’s apple and down his smooth, muscular neck. He tips his head further back as though he wants me to kiss him.

Not yet, pretty-boy.

I rub my hand down his chest, which causes him to moan and writhe a little. He is thin, yet defined, and he either shaves his body or is amazingly smooth for a thirty-something-year-old. His cock is rock hard and curving up against his belly-button: It’s probably around seven inches but looks huge against his small frame. His online profile claims he is 5’10” but I’m guessing he’s a little shorter, though it’s hard to tell at this angle. I stand up and take another look around the room, finding the lube, condoms and bottles of water on the nightstand just as he promised.

Good boy. Continue reading

Glory Daze

Glory HoleOne of my fuck-buddies calls, asking if I’ve ever met the dude in my neighborhood who advertises having a private glory hole set up in his home. I’ve seen the profile dozens of time but have never checked it out: It just seems creepy, if not dangerous, and the only photo the guy offers is a close-up of his open mouth. My buddy agrees it may be a little weird yet, being the pig that he is, wants to check it out anyway. He wants me to join him, promising we can bail if it gets weird. I doubt the dude is going to let us both come over at the same time, so I agree. In less than five minutes my buddy is instructing me to rinse off and meet at the address in half an hour.

The things my dick gets me into, right?

I get there first and wait a few minutes until my buddy pulls up and parks in front of me. He gets out of his car—wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray ball cap—and walks over to my car. He’s tall, thin and blond, which usually isn’t my thing, but he has a huge dick which I’ve given up on trying to swallow and a great ass which, thankfully, loves getting fucked. He looks great tonight.

I roll down the window and he leans in. “This is crazy.”

“That’s why you love it,” hey says with a smile. “Let’s go blow our loads.” Continue reading