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Chapter 5
Let's stop and see how far we've come. Pook is this charismatic, rock hard athlete who took me, a not-bad-looking middle aged guy, under his wing. He was my CrossFit mentor and made it his responsibility to ensure I had was welcomed into the community and had excellent coaching. It could've easily stopped there, but over time our workouts became more competitive, intense and subtly homoerotic. Sidelong glances, slaps on the butt, and unspoken competitions. I'm not sure either of us was doing it intentionally, but one thing led to another, and now we here are. He's laying in front of me, nude, fully restrained, cock painfully engorged, and panting like an animal in heat. If I make him cum, I win. If he makes me cum, he wins. We are both competitors. I'm 45 minutes through my 90 minutes allotment. It's going to be an intense evening.
What I've been dreaming about came next. I don't know why, but I had a suspicion that Pook loved to be edged. In fact, I'd have been willing to bet on it. Like me, he's a competitor, and my instinct was he'd get off on an intense edging session with someone else was in control to see who would come out the winner. Now I was going to find out. I don't think there's a more profound comingling of pleasure and pain than being edged. The rapture of being on the edge of cumming is indescribable. But the moment of denial is punishing. Add to that the humiliation of having your orgasm controlled by an Alpha male (when you're one already) results in a level of intensity that Pook would find nearly unendurable. I was anticipating finding his limits and seeing who would win this battle.
My plan was simple: work his cock with my mouth while simultaneously massaging his prostate to the point of explosion, and then....stopping. No mercy.
I started by climbing between his legs again and lowering my face right into his hole. I hungrily licked, lapped and slobbered away at his already wet crack. I learned that night how long and penetrating my tongue can when it needs to be. Pook was already moaning in ecstasy. I wonder whether he thought this was the prelude to me fucking the living hell out of him, but he had a surprise coming. After several minutes of feasting on his willing hole, I got my right middle finger wet with spit and started in on his hole. I went in slowly, but let him know I was in control. I won't deny it, my finger felt wonderful up in his warm, wet shoot. I immediately located his prostate. Hard, firm, packed with the cum he had been producing for days. I poked at it with the pad of the top joint of my middle finger, pressed firmly and he gulped and groaned with more passion than I expected. He could feel I hit found his G-spot. What he didn't know yet was how long I'd torture him with it.
I continued to apply pressure and swirl it around his rock-hard cum-nut. He gyrated his hips up and down groaning and croaking as I did it. Then I spotted the stream of precum emanating from his piss slit and dripping down to his stomach. One sight of that and I knew I had to taste it and not waste a drop.
Wanting to get a better angle, I slowly withdrew my finger from his hole, climbed off the bed, and re-took my position standing on his right side. It dawned on me that I was still wearing my jock, which was soaked with pre-cum and sweat. It was time for me to get as naked as he was so I peeled it off. As I was sliding it off, he lifted his head and licks his lips seductively, which I interpreted only one way. I took my jock and strapped it over his face so the pouch completely covered his mouth and nose. He acted like he was resisting having a smelly jock pulled over his face, but it was all theater. He not only he loved it, he was hungry for it. As I secured it behind his neck, I pressed it harder into his face and told him, "This is your reward for being so fucking hot, Pook."
Muffled, through the fabric of the jock, he replied, "Thank you, sir."
With me back at his side, his cock was still dripping and it was time for me to get my nourishment. My right hand went back to his hole and I inserted my already wet middle finger into his hole and found his pulsing internal organ. His cock responded by leaking pre-cum even faster than before so I leaned down and took my first lick of his tasty juice with the tip of my tongue and found it to be deliciously sweet. Using my tongue, I scooped up every drop off the tip of his cock, his stomach and everything in between, lapping and swallowing loudly. Then I told him how fantastic he tasted and if he was good I'd share it with him. He replied, "Please Daddy, I'm hungry for it. And you.".
Damn this kid was good.
Back to his prostate....it was time for a second finger so I inserted my index finger along with my middle finger to apply maximum pressure to his organ. When I got two fingers directly on it, pressed and swirled, he howled like an animal in heat.
And so the ordeal began. Me inhaling his precum, sucking his now 10+" cock, and fingering his prostate with two fingers unmercifully. I quickly got to anticipate when he would (almost) cum. It was like a fucking game and I loved playing him. Pook, drenched in sweat, begging me to take him to orgasm. And me, now able to identify the muscle reflex immediately prior to cumming and pulling my mouth off his cock, squeezing it hard, and releasing the pressure from his prostate just in time. Every time I did he begged, pleaded, almost cried for me to let him cum. And even better than sadistically enjoying his agony, I got to delight on the copious amounts of pre-cum he was dripping. I've never seen anyone produce pre-cum like he did that evening. I hadn't eaten dinner, but he fed me more than I needed. Every ounce was liquid gold on my tongue. I didn't get tired of tasting the outcome of Pook's torture.
I was experiencing the most fucking powerful feeling in the world. Cumming isn't everything in the real world, but right now, cumming is the ONLY thing in Pook's world. And I owned him. I continued this agonizing game as his reaction evolved from whimpering to pleading to lightly sobbing. They were tears of pleasure AND pain, but they were tears. As I slowly pulled my mouth off his cock and withdrew my fingers from his prostate in what would be the last time, he looked at me with tears of love/torture and begged me to stop.
"Please Daddy, I don't know how much more I can take.", he pleaded.
I walked up to his head on the bed, cupped his head in my hand, and asked him..... "Tell me the truth Pook, what color?"
He closed his eyes and I saw a tear roll down his cheek both. Humiliated, he whispered, "PLEASE let me cum Daddy. You win. You win." But I wasn't about to let him cum.
I looked at him longingly. Here lays my CrossFit stud, in a pool of sweat, having endured a level of carnal pleasure that was almost unimaginable. I now only had about five minutes left but I had four tasks to complete. First, I oiled my hands with the lube that was nearby and gently removed the cock ring without touching his cock. He was so turned on I was afraid even a brush of my fingers against his erect manhood would make him explode. Task two was removing the restraints. He hadn't been stretched far, just restrained to enhance the sense of loss of control, so removing them was easy and painless. Third, I gently pulled my used jock strap off his face. It was good to look into his eyes again. And finally, the removal of the tit clamps. Unfortunately, that sensation is about 99% pain and 1% pleasure, but pleasure is pain and it had to be done. I looked him in the eye, reached for his tits, and said, "It's time." He whimpered in pain when I did, stopped and took a deep breath and said simply, "Thank you, sir."
Here's my dirty little secret. There was no question in my mind I could've fucked his brains out and he would've come in minutes. I edged him to his limit intentionally because I wanted him to be packed with testosterone and revenge when it was his turn. I let him believe he survived my torture without cumming. Now he was breathing fire and I couldn't fathom what he would do to me. Everything was going according to plan.
End of Chapter 5
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