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Never Take Your Hole for Granted

On Manhunt the other day, this guy emails me. He likes my profile, and likes what he sees. He is the fourth guy within 15 minutes to write me saying basically the same thing, so I am thinking this has to be a scam, right? Four guys I have never spoken to before write to tell me that I’m hot? Not likely. But I’m a good sport, and curious to see if any of them write back with an offer to join such and such a site at a greatly reduced price or to tune into their webcam. When I return their emails, I pretty much write the same thing: Thanks for the compliment. You’re the hot one, dude! If interested in seeing more of me (I have more pics for trade), email me at: I’m not a member so limited emails on this site.

Usually that is the last I hear of them. Guys are afraid to email. They will give you their cell phone number at the drop of a zipper tag, but an email? That is just too personal for them.

Anyway… this guy – we’ll call him Rob (not his real name), he emails me back. And he sends pics! Okay, all I can say is… this guy is a fucking porno wet dream. One of those seriously macho dudes: big, natural muscles (yeah, I can tell a roid case when I see one), nipples like pencil erasers, a nice coating of salt and pepper man fur, a neatly trimmed beard/goatee thing going on, a killer smile, bright, intense eyes and a granite jaw. Basically? He could easily pass as one of those Tom of Finland guys. I’m not kidding. His ass is all muscle and bubbled - totally edible. His legs are well-defined and his calves are legendary. Even his dick looks suspiciously oversized. Also – some of his pics are taken outdoors! He hides nothing. In on photo he’s standing in the middle of a railroad track; one that looks vaguely familiar.

I check back to his Manhunt profile and like everything I read. He’s a top. I’m in.

So I hit him back with my entire arsenal; every halfway decent naked photo I’ve taken this past year. I figure if they don’t scare him away, then maybe something will work out between us. Fortunately, he takes the bait and writes back. He loves outdoors sex, and knows the prairie area well. Everything else he has to say sits well with me. He wants to meet. I suggest a scene: he walks into this empty house I’m currently rehabbing, locks the door behind him and searches through the rooms until he finds me; naked, on all fours with my ass up in the air. He’s game. We set a time. I get there early and set up, figuring this is just going to be your basic suck and fuck. My ass is clean, I’m naked and in position. He actually shows up on time and walks on in, as planned.

I give him a bit of time to take in the view once he walks in the room. He can see me through the doorway of an adjacent room and chooses to strip and leave his clothes in there. I keep my ass toward him the entire time. I love the anticipation factor of set-ups like this. I’m so vulnerable, facing away from a complete stranger, my bare ass sticking up with my hole clearly visible. He walks into the room and gets on his knees behind me. He lightly touches my pre-lubed hole, caresses it, something I like very much. He comments about how nice my hole is. His voice totally matches the pics I’ve seen – hyper-masculine, deep, thick, throaty; the kind of voice that is used to giving orders and having them followed to the letter. He then proceeds to finger my hole, very tentatively at first and then with just a bit more familiarity. His touch is just right and I am really glad I lubed up ahead of time. He asks me if I like that. I take a slight hit of poppers and begin to push back on his finger, letting him know that, yeah, man… I like that.

Finally, he moves around to the front of me and gets on his knees. The view is so worth the wait. His pics do not do him justice and they certainly fail to capture one of his rather exceptional physical attributes. His dick. It’s super, super thick. Like a coke can. He is a Tom Finland icon. From what I can tell, he’s uncut. I look upwards. His chest is killer. Beautiful pecs with chewable nips. His shoulders massive, his arms more so. His face… his eyes. The boy in me melts. Daddy’s home.

We kiss.

This is shaping up to be an exceptional introduction.

Our kisses grow in intensity until they become deep and passionate. He pulls me into him and I feel physically smaller than I thought possible. My hands and arms experience his body. We embrace. We explore. There’s some beautiful friction between us. I love how he cups the cheeks of my ass with both his hands while allowing a finger to caress the pucker of my hole. I move my mouth to his left nipple. I hoover it, suck it, lightly nip at it. He moans. I move the other one and repeat the process. He removes the b-ball cap I’ve been wearing and places it on his head, backwards. For some reason this gesture immediately endears this man to me. I smile and raise one of his arms up. My hand follows up the length of his arm, pausing occasionally to give his muscles a squeeze of awed appreciation. My mouth moves from his pec to his arm pit. Trimmed hair. No deodorant. Fresh, manly. I suck and lick and deep tongue his pit. He likes it. He says, “Fuck, yeah… get my stink all over you.” And I’m like, “Yeah, man… mark me.”

Again we kiss. His hands and attentions return to my ass. “Let me eat that fucker.” And me? All I can say is, “Yes, Sir!”

He moves behind me. I bend forward offering up my hole once more. He spits on my crack and immediately dives in. I hold the cheeks of my ass apart as far as possible for him so he can gain full access. With his tongue, he works the same magic on my ass that he’s worked in my mouth. I want to give my all to him. And when he requested to eat my hole, he wasn’t just paying lip service to the act… this was one very committed ass muncher. I take another slight it of poppers and grind my hole onto his mouth. I feel so open. So fully consumed. If this is all there is to be of this session, I would walk away one satisfied fucker.

“Turn around and lick Daddy’s nuts.”

He leans back, on his knees, his massive thighs spread wide. Still in my crouched position, I move around to face his dick. His nut sack hangs loose and generous. I try approaching it from underneath, kissing it succulently with my lips. I then take one ball in my mouth, and then the other. Still leaning back and now resting on one arm, he reaches round with the other and pushes my face firmly into his crotch. I lick. I suck. I move up to his dick, still in awe of its width. I engulf it, my mouth stretching, my jaw relaxing. It’s a struggle, but because he’s only average in length, I’m able to accommodate him. As I’m blowing him, I reach under his nuts and feel my way back to his exposed hole. I touch it, finger it, enter it just the tiniest bit – like testing the water. I wanna eat it, but have a feeling that might not be on the menu today. So instead, my mouth still stuffed full of dick, I reach up and begin to work his nips with my fingers. I pull on them. Squeeze them. Pinch them firmly, holding on to them. He grunts encouragement and tells me to work those fuckers. Happily, I do.

He leans forward and pushes my shoulders up. He switches to his knees and dives face first onto my dick. I’m nice and hard as he expertly deep throats me on his first lunge. I push his head down, indicating he’s to stay there for awhile. He does. I begin to slowly face fuck him. Small movements at first, building, building, until I’m in power fuck mode.

Suddenly, he pushes down hard on my thighs, disengaging his mouth from my dick and pulling my lower legs out from under me until I am lying flat on my back. He lies on top of me and grinds his dick into mine. I love it. “Oh, yeah, nut fuck me, bud. Yeah. Just like we’re in high school.” He loves it and responds in kind, melting his powerful body all over mine. We kiss the entire time. Then his mouth leaves mine and travels down my body. Soon he’s taking my dick in his practiced mouth again. I reposition myself on to my knees, so he is forced up on all fours.

I take in the view. His broad shoulders and chest, his well defined lats , tapering down to a smaller waist and then blooming into those two mounds of mouthwatering temptation. While he’s busy downing my tool, I reach over his back and grab his ass cheeks. They feel incredible. I give them a smack and then move my right hand to the crack of his ass while spreading his cheek with my left. I pause to put my index finger into my mouth and wet it before touching his hole. I tell him I want to eat his ass. He doesn’t reply and instead just keeps sucking, so I assume I am barking up the wrong tree.

I feel close to coming, so I push his mouth off my dick. Without missing a beat he stands up and feeds me his dick again. I can’t get over its thickness and I’m beginning to wonder how the hell he plans to get that fucker up my ass. I take my mouth off his dick, and as he is standing over me, I take my freshly buzzed head and rub it under his ball sack. He moans with pleasure and proceeds to hump my head for a bit, before slipping down, lifting my chin and forcing his dick back into my eager mouth.

“Let me see that ass of yours, boy.” He says this without any trace of irony. I have a feeling we are not that far apart in the age department, but his tone is very convincing and I am only too willing to go with the flow of our role play. I turn around and get on all fours, searching for my poppers. “Daddy wants to open you up some before he fucks you,” he says, fingering my hole. Not sure what’s coming next, I locate the poppers and then turnover so that I’m lying on my back, my knees up, my legs wide and my naked hole exposed.

He starts with one finger, just as he did at the start of our session. He explains to me that he needs to give me a lot more in order to open up my hole. I start snorting the poppers like my life depends on it. I tell him I’ve never been fisted and am not sure I want to be. He tells me to just lie back and relax. So I start to reason with him. I tell him I trust him, and take another couple of deep whiffs off the bottle of poppers. I lie back and he cozies up to the opening of my spread thighs. He’s working some kind of magic with his hand, pausing to add more lube from time to time. I keep telling him how much I trust him and he talks to me reassuringly. I’m in good hands. I start to feel my self open up. It feels warm and expansive and I push my ass forward just the slightest bit in order to meet the thrust of his fingers. Occasionally I reach up and take hold of his nipples and pull on them. Each time I do this he increases the pressure and intensity with which he’s finger fucking me. I know he has at least three fingers up my hole by now. His look is one of great concentration and care.

I take another hit of poppers and finally say to him, “I surrender”.

I surrender. Four fingers. Up to the knuckles. Fuck.

I’m thinking he’s gonna go for it… he’s gonna fist me.

But then, just as I’m beginning to try to wrap my head around the idea of actually being fisted, he rolls me up onto my upper back and shoulders.

“Daddy needs to fuck you now, boy. Daddy’s gonna plow you deep.”

And he’s as good as his word. I don’t even wince when he enters me. He allows me to catch my balance and my breath… to get used to him. And plow he does, hard, and deep. We’re in sync. I work his nipples, he works my hole. We kiss. His mouth explodes with a rush of air. He pulls back. He pulls me into him. I’m jerking my dick as he begins a low groan, which builds into a series of staccato gasps.

Daddy’s home.

He explodes. I follow suit. My legs are wrapped around his waist. He feels so close. He plays with my hole gently. Saying good-bye to it. He moves to the side of me and lies next to me. We curl into one another. I feel so small. So protected. Safe. Spent. Delicious.

We talk. About the fuck. About chemistry and hook-ups in general. About expectations. About exceeded expectations. Neither one of us is in a rush to get going, or to get away from the other or the scene of the crime. I compliment him on his body, his looks. He’s sweet. And smart, well-spoken, very social. I explain how I’ve never done that with anyone before… never allowed anyone to be that intrusive. I don’t think I could… with anyone else. We linger, enjoying each other’s warmth. My hands and fingers trace and follow the various curves of his magnificent physique. Our legs intertwined. Our breath close.

No longer Daddy and boy… just two men enjoying the afterglow. And what a glow it is…

Later. He gathers his clothes. He gets dressed. I clean up. One last kiss… he’s taller than me… and… he’s gone.

My hole. Feeling the heat. A sweet burn.

It’s not until the next day that I start taking note of the damage. It looks… bruised. The surrounding area, too. I look like those guys on Xtube, you know the ones: the ones that have had way too many very, very large objects up their holes way too often. Okay, so mine is not that bad. But it is dark. And the bruises get darker in the next few days. I hope that it’s not something permanent.

I don’t want to look ‘used’. I want to be used. I want my hole to look usable.

I keep my eye on the bruising for the next few days.

The entire week I try to sort out how I feel about fisting. I’m not mad, at myself or him. But I’m glad he stopped when he did. And I decide that fisting is not for me. I don’t need anything that big up inside of me. I don’t like the look of a bruised asshole. I don’t want to look ‘used’.

I give my hole a full week’s rest. I keep checking it in the mirror at the gym when no one else is around. It still looks different to me. Will it always look different to me? Is it something permanent, like a tattoo? Will others notice it when they look at it? Or is it all in my head? Will it go back to the way it was? Before…?

Another half a week goes by. Finally, I decide it is time to get back into the saddle. I’m online and I am talking to two different guys. I am pretty sure that something is going to pop soon, so I go clean out my hole. After I flush it out, I lube up my pucker and stick my index finger up there to see if everything is okay.

OMG… I’d forgotten. The interior… it feels silky smooth. Delicious. Tight. My finger, the perfect fit. The tissue that surrounds my digit feels healthy, strong, slick, and oh-so fuckable.

I’m relieved. And titillated. I feel a rush of excitement. My hole… wants… more.

But I resist.

I go and shut off my computer. I take a shower, resisting the urge to explore more, and then I head to bed, picking up a paperback I’d been slowly working my way through over the past week and a half. It is fall and the weather is just a bit more chilly than usual. Beneath the covers, with the pillows plumped up so my back is supported enabling me to read, I feel snug and secure.

Not unlike being in the arms of a certain man, whose real name is not Rob.

I sigh. And find my place in the open book. You know…

Some things you just don’t want to rush.

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