Spring Blackout

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• This is a work of fiction. My experiences and likes influence all my writing, so there might be a nugget or two of truth somewhere within, but don't worry, it's carefully hidden... Any similarity with actual people or places is entirely coincidental.

• This story involves interracial sex between adult men. There is a lot of crude stereotyping, role play, nasty and demeaning language and other things that might be called kinky or just plain ignorant. If any of this offends you, please leave now.

• If you are underage or if reading this is illegal where you are for any reason, please leave now.

• Your feedback is welcome and appreciated.

SPRING BLACKOUT: Two Regulars and the Surprise that Made the Night, Twice!

It was one of the first few warm days of the season. I already knew it was going to be a fun evening. Before I even left work I had a text from a regular hookup asking those general questions - the kind that let you know eventually you're going to be hooking up. I guess you could say it was the hook up or fuck-buddy version of a "flirty" conversation, the kind that starts relatively clean and vague but ultimately and predictably ends up with a proposition.

I knew he wouldn't be available until after 9. I knew that on his nights off he went to the gym, so when he was looking to score he wanted to do it fresh from a workout - and fortunately for me, fresh from the gym shower!

Right before I left work I had another text from a different regular asking about something quick. Quick for him means after work on his way home to his wife and kids. So that meant 6 or 7 pm at the latest. I had plenty of time to hook up with him and then get myself ready for the other regular after 9. A busy night already, but imminently doable.

Now two guys in one night - only a few hours apart - might seem like a bit much. But not for me. Let's be frank: I'm a whore. A slut. A black cock slut. A cocksucker. There's no point in beating around the bush, no pun intended. I came to terms with my reality years ago. The thought of servicing two black dicks in one night wasn't an exhausting thought, it was an exciting one. As soon as the second regular hit me up for a quick hit on his way home from work, the night was already looking up.

I knew the first hookup, the early evening encounter, wouldn't take long. I've been hooking up with this dude long enough to know that five minutes of head is a stretch for him. Typically he goes from the driveway to out the door in under ten minutes. It doesn't take long, but it gets the job done for us both. It's an easy way to get some cum and he gets to bust that nut.

But what made this spring night so memorable wasn't the regulars. I will remember this night forever because of the surprise. More on that later...

Before we go any further, let's introduce the players. The first guy to hit me up, the one I knew would be looking for something after 9 pm, I call him Dom. He calls me Sub. That tells you a lot from the start. His real name is Darnell. I only know this because unlike most random online hookups, he used an email address that made it rather easy to figure out. I've never understood why some people do that. For random hookups, it just seems like such a risk... Anyway, I've been hooking up with Dom for three or four years. We talked online extensively and the only thing preventing us from meeting up earlier was lack of a spot. I don't really bring randoms home for hookups, either because of roommates or more often because of the risk. He said he was a dominant bi black man just looking for head, so if he looked decent I knew we would get along. Our first meeting set the stage for plenty of future hookups. We were in the woods next to a deserted satellite parking lot for the State Fair. It was late night, in dark woods, and he fucked my face with some authority. I didn't even care about my knees in the damp forest floor that night. All I could do was focus on breathing. With a first meeting like that, with a guy who's not shy about being a real man, I just know we're going to end up seeing each other again.

I don't hook up with Dom all that often. He's "straight" and has either a long term girlfriend or fiancé so I don't think he needs to look for a release all that often. But I've said "no" to him more times than most of my regulars through the years. Although I love the dominant swagger and I don't mind gagging on some dick, Dom takes things to extremes. A lot of times it's not so much a blow job as a struggle not to throw up. And not just for a while, but the whole time. He doesn't like to get rimmed and he's not all that thrilled with getting his balls licked. Nothing kinky, like getting his ass eaten, which for me was always an enjoyable break in the action and a chance to catch my breath. It's about deep throat from the jump. His dick isn't huge - I'm guessing 7 inches - but it has a wicked curve to the side about midway. He knows how to take advantage of that curve, and he knows - and enjoys - how hard it can be on a throat.

It may sound silly to my fellow cocksuckers, but I've said "no" to him just because of how hard I have to work. I've been with some truly thugged-out dudes over the years, but Dom is the only guy I can honestly say I'm afraid of hooking up with. My mouth isn't just a hole he enjoys using, it's a hole he's trying to punish. Period! As much as I love to sub out for a masculine guy, Dom is just too much. Sometimes...

So I put him off. I put him off for months. Eventually I give in and end up getting my throat plowed like a field. I'm a whore, so I can only go so long saying "no" to a black dick that's trying to get in. After a few weeks of talking again, I had agreed to meet him tonight. He's a smart, professional guy, and he's no jerk. He wondered why I kept putting him off or not responding, and I figured since we were conversing (which is RARE for a hookup in my experience...) I might as well tell him the truth. He had agreed to take it easy on me, to basically let me run the show with only the occasional gags and aggression. I was ready. If he can keep his word...

The second guy is the very definition of a regular. He's a petite dark-skinned black guy with dreadlocks that, rather unoriginally, I call Dreads. His real name is Will, which I guess is short for William. I only know that because of some drunk moments when he got me to say his name in the middle of a session. I doubt he even remembers telling me, and since it's not really necessary to use names I've never brought it up. Dreads sounds better anyway.

This guy can cum in a flash. I've sucked him literally hundreds of times over like 7 or 8 years. Some of our hookups last literally 10 minutes or less. Our long sessions are years in the past, before he was married with kids, when he would stop by after leaving the bar and was too drunk to cum. That's when his Napoleon complex comes out, and he gets kinky and demanding. If it wasn't for his nasty, kinky side I would have dropped him years ago.

He has a decent dick, about 7 again, but pleasantly thick. His big passions are 1) giving orders and 2) getting rimmed. I've eaten his ass for an hour before, maybe longer. He tells me what to do and likes me to respond immediately. He tells me when to start sucking and when to stop and when to eat his ass and when to stop. As a dominant perv he likes all the usual ways to show his domination like getting me to suck his toes and pulling my hair.

We've done it all from public sex in parking lots and golf courses to him toe-fucking my ass while I was blowing him, and me wearing his girlfriend's panties. He's even roughed me up a few times, with light slapping and tossing me around. That's funny when you realize I'm almost two feet taller than him and weigh twice what he does. We've hooked up for so long we're like an old married couple. His dick feels at home in my throat and he smells and tastes familiar, comfortable.

The final player this evening will remain a surprise for now, just as it was for me that night.

ROUND ONE

So Dreads sent a text that he was running late and would be at my place around 6:30. I wasn't in a big hurry, so it didn't matter. He wouldn't really have cared anyway. One of the odd truths I've discovered over the years is that men don't care about making a cocksucker wait. I think it's part of the game. It was closer to 7 pm before he actually arrived. After all the years I know how to set the scene, so I darkened the room and had interracial boy-girl porn playing on the TV. He likes the traditional interracial hetero porn, with hung black guys pounding the hell out of little blond girls. Who doesn't love that, though?

I had the door unlocked and the porn playing when he sent the text that he was in the neighborhood. I was on my knees waiting for him when he arrived. He always wants me already on my knees, waiting. Even with the lights off, there was still a fair amount of fading light coming through the closed blinds. I heard him pull in and heard the door open. Being a cocksucker who wears glasses, I knew to have those off before we started. Glasses don't tend to work well when you're giving head. He opens the door and even with my glasses off I can see him enter. I thought I noticed a second figure come in, but blinked a couple of times and tried to make sure I wasn't imagining things in the dim light. But I wasn't imagining shit. Dreads had someone with him.

My heart leapt and I'm sure I panicked. He had tempted and teased me about bringing one of his "boys" with him for years, but I always assumed he did that to get my keyed up. A couple of times I agreed to service him and one of his friends after some late-night texting, but in the end it was always Dreads alone who showed up. I never thought he would actually bring a friend along, and I certainly never thought he would do it without telling me about it beforehand.

I think I momentarily wondered if I was in danger. That thought would have disappeared quickly, since it wouldn't take long to realize that Dreads wasn't likely to let anything bad go down. He's married and has kids, and we've been messing around for more years than most people manage to stay married these days, so if he was a threat I think I would have picked up on it before now.

But what the fuck!? Who was this dude? I'm on my knees in my own dark living room and can't even see him clearly. I was hardly in a position of power. In the end it worked out fine. It worked out better than fine.

Dreads spoke up quickly. "This is my boy. He wants some head. Me first."

No explanation. No asking if it was cool with me. He just told me what they wanted.

I was still on my knees. I hadn't jumped up. I hadn't said anything. I just stayed on my knees. Silence is acceptance.

Dreads walked over to me, first dropping his keys and phone on the ground by my couch. He then unfastened his jeans and pulled his pants and boxers down to his ankles in one motion. He was inches from me, and I felt one of his thick dreads hit the top of my head as he bent down to work his pants and boxers to the floor. I had my mouth open already and he moved forward and directed his dick into my mouth with his hand. Fortunately sucking comes naturally to me now, so I didn't really have to concentrate on what I was doing. My mind was focused on this other dude. He was near the door, behind Dreads, so from my current vantage point I couldn't really see him. All I could see was pubic hair and Dread's coal black skin.

When a guy has his dick in your mouth, no matter how short or petite he might be, he still fills your whole frame of view. Ordinarily I wouldn't care - that's the way it's supposed to be. But tonight, there was this other man in the room. And I couldn't help but think of him.

As usual when he's sober, Dreads was fully hard and pointing straight within seconds. He has a nice, mouth-filling width. Since I know Dreads can cum so quickly, I didn't use any special techniques with my lips or tongue. With him, I do what I can to slow it down. It's just me sliding my mouth up and down his dick with loose lip contact and my tongue across the bottom of his shaft. No matter how slowly or easily you're trying to suck a dick, it just doesn't feel right to not tongue it along the bottom. Every dick deserves the tongue, as I always say.

In less than a minute I see Dreads stomach started to tense up and he starts to back off. I think a dude's stomach or belly area can be so sexy, and from the cocksucking stance there's not a hell of a lot to look at, so when my eyes are open I'm looking at his tummy.

He gives me his first command of the evening, something I've heard so many times before: "Don't suck, just hold it in your mouth."

I freeze, even making sure my breathing is slow and calm. I know he's trying not to nut, and with only a minute on the pole I'm perfectly willing to cooperate.

I hear the dude moving in our direction. He walks past us and I can hear and sense him behind me. As he passes I can hardly see a thing. All I saw was a shadow out of the corner of my eye. I can smell him though. It's a strong but common cologne. And he's wearing a lot of it. It wasn't a scent that would make you remember a person. It was that kind of scent that you can't help but notice but quickly forget.

Dreads started to move slowly in and out of my mouth. I was still holding steady, not licking or sucking at all. He was controlling the pace by moving his body forward and back. I hear the other dude sitting in my chair behind me. Although I have a dick in my mouth, something about that pisses me off. Although I have to admit there was really nowhere else to sit in the room. All the other chairs had stuff piled in them, and even the other end of the couch had a big stack of pillows filling the space. But still this stranger just showed up to get some head, hadn't said a word, hadn't been introduced and still he had the balls to walk over and plop down in my recliner. It irritated me that he had the balls to make himself so comfortable in my house. I know he was confident because he had to walk right past us to get to the chair. Had it been me, I would have quietly stood right back there by the door. This dude just made himself at home.

Truth be told he gave himself a better view. From my recliner he could see Dread's standing there and me on my knees. I have no idea if he and Dreads were looking at each other. It might have been too dark in the room. But it didn't talk long for Dreads to switch up the game a little.

He started to put on a little show. He pulled his dick quickly from my mouth, and my lips made a quiet popping sound after the fast evacuation. He barked for me "Open your mouth." When I did he slid his dick back in. As he did I felt him lean his head back and he groaned "Fuck!" He was a little too loud, so I knew it was a little bit for show. "Open your mouth and keep it fuckin open," he growled, this time not as loud but with a little artificial gruffness. He was playing the Big Daddy role. I did as I was told and opened my mouth wide, covered my teeth with my lips as best I could and waited. I didn't have to wait long. He jabbed his dick all the way in my mouth. His dickhead slid across the top of my mouth and just barely started the curve down to my throat. I had prepared myself for what I suspected was coming, so although I pulled back just a bit at his attack I didn't gag. He pulled out quickly and slammed it back in again. He was leaning forward as he did this, so he was just using his forward momentum to make the strike. He didn't have hands on my head to hold me in place or pull me towards him, so I was able to flex my body and move slightly to prevent gagging. If Dreads had been any other dude we could have kept up this pace for minutes. But he would have busted in 30 seconds usually so I knew it wouldn't last.

He pulled out, grabbed a handful of my hair and pushed me down under his dick. "Lick my fuckin balls," he said roughly.

He never really talked quite that roughly when he was sober, so again the show continued. I did as I was told and licked and sucked his balls, one after the other and then sucked them both at the same time. He had a small ballsack, close to his body. It was easy to get them both in my mouth.

"Oh, Bitch, suck those balls.... Damn." This time he sounded more in ecstasy than in charge. I think he heard himself, so again he switched up the game.

He grabbed another handful of my hair and tilted my head so I was looking up at him. He looked down at me and told me to open my mouth and stick out my tongue. I did as I was told, and he stabbed my throat a half dozen times. This time he kept a handful of my hair in his grip so he breached my throat and made an audible slap each time his crotch crashed into my face. He grunted a "yeah!" each time he bottomed out. It was that nasty, sneering "yeah" from porn movies or from a gun range after you fire off a round. It wasn't a happy "yeah." It was a I'm-A-Big-Billy-Badass "yeah!" to emphasize each time his dick was planted.

I had been hooking up with Dreads long enough to know that this little short, dark motherfucker probably had all kinds of inferiority complexes. When he was being blown, when he was being obeyed, when he was holding me in check with just his dick -then he felt like a king. He had been coming back for years, and could have just been jacking off. It was more than just friction. More than just a nut. It was having me on my knees with his dick where it didn't belong that made it a thrill for him. He would go through a lot of trouble to arrange a hookup only to have some of them end in 5 minutes. He was getting more than a nut.

And tonight he had an audience. Some friend of his that was watching him punk me down. I didn't know his name and he didn't know mine. He was in my house, in my chair, watching me get ordered around with another man's balls in my mouth. And the new dude wasn't making a sound. I wanted to turn around and look at him. But I didn't abandon my post. At that moment I was Dreads' cocksucker and it was all about him. And secretly I knew, as I always knew, that it wasn't going to take him that much longer. I just held my mouth open and let Dreads control the pace. I knew he could keep it going longer that way, and I correctly guessed that he wanted it to go on as long as possible. As he started to get a little closer to the edge, he backed off again. He was breathing harder and just had the head of his dick resting on my tongue. I was perfectly still, not even swallowing.

I heard the rustle of leather as the other dude shifted in the recliner behind me. He was being very quiet though.

Dreads held his dick up against his belly and barked "Balls." I obediently started working on his balls again. This time licking more slowly, making sure I hit the whole area around the base of his dick and balls. Since we were not in a hurry, I wanted to explore a bit and knew he wasn't going to complain. I went at it for a few minutes like that, with him grunting out a rather steady stream of nasty words. In no particular order he either panted or grunted or yelled out "bitch" or "suck that dick" or "lick my balls." Bitch was definitely the most common word, and seemed to come out of his mouth every 15 seconds or so.

I heard the surprise dude shift around in the chair again. I wondered if he was enjoying the show.

Dreads told me to get back on his dick and I started sucking him off. I was going slow, but this time he stood still so I was controlling the pace. I was careful not to go too fast or apply too much pressure. I was hoping to make it last at least a couple more minutes. He kept one of his hands on the back of my head, but it was just for show. Like any two people that have been fucking around for years, I knew what he wanted and he trusted me. There were a couple more "fucking bitch" and "yeah, suck that black dick" but I was controlling the blowjob. He made it sound and look like he was in charge. He wanted to look like a boss in front of his bud, and at that moment I wanted him to look like one too. We were performing for his friend.

I had been pretty quiet and kept my hands idle so far. It was time for me to start playing the bitch. I started moaning and making a little more slurping noise with my mouth. I knew he was going to bust a nut soon so we had to make the grand finale worth watching. I started rubbing up and down his thighs and ass and over his stomach and up his chest. It was the hand movements of someone worshipping another. And I really played it up. With my hands roaming every inch of his body, his dick in my mouth and me moaning like a girl in heat, I was playing the cocksucker role to a T.

He put both hands on my head and just rested them there. He started moaning "suck my dick" over and over again. He wasn't going deep in my throat so when he started to cum I tasted it immediately. He didn't change his "suck my dick" chant so I kept sucking. He shot maybe three or four loads and I swallowed them without missing a beat or changing my pace. Normally when he cums he immediately tells me to stop, so I knew this was part of the show. I felt his dick start to get soft immediately so I picked up the moaning and grabbed his ass with both hands and started to look like I was deepthroating him. He kept his hands on my head, but he was done. After another thirty seconds of acting, he said "OK" and pulled back. We had put on a good show together.

I sat back and caught my breath. I watched Dreads pull up his boxers and jeans and grab his possessions. I wanted to look at the other dude who was sitting just inches behind me, but somehow it didn't feel right to turn and look his way. Not now.

Dreads checked his phone and without looking at either of us said, "It's your turn."

Neither the other dude nor me moved for like 10 seconds. Finally I heard the dude getting up and I finally glanced his way and he towards me. He stood in font of me, but not as close as Dreads. For a minute I wasn't sure if I was supposed to take the lead. I didn't know this dude, but in a few more seconds I would have no choice but to break the awkward pause and go for his pants.

As with so many of these macho bi or straight dudes, they might talk a big game, but when it comes to making the first move when you're face to face, I almost always end up having to break the ice. If neither of us knows quite what to do, me dropping to my knees in front of him is usually enough to get the ball rolling.

I heard Dreads jangle his car keys and he moved towards the door saying "Imma wait in the truck."

Seconds later he was out the door and there we were.

Now this was another surprise! This stranger is standing here and now Dreads has walked out leaving us alone. I was immediately pissed. He brought this motherfucker here to watch and get some head, so he should stay and supervise - if nothing else just to make me more comfortable. I had no idea if they planned it this way or if he just decided to walk out on the spur of the moment. I had helped him put on a hell of a show, and ended up getting repaid by having him leave me alone with this guy.

ROUND TWO

I had a few seconds to sum dude up. It was now genuinely dark in the room. If he hadn't been 8 inches from me I would have had trouble seeing much of anything. He was medium height and medium build. I would guess 5'7" and about 180-190 pounds. He had a slight belly, but was far from fat. With dark jeans and a baggy pullover sweatshirt it was hard to tell much about his body. All I could tell was he wasn't fat and he wasn't skinny. I wasn't displeased with what I saw, although my perception was admittedly limited.

The overwhelming thing was his cologne. It stood out more than anything else about him. It seemed like minutes had passed, but in reality it was probably only a few seconds.

Sensing that I was going to need to break the ice, habit and training took over and I scooted up off my butt and up to my knees. As the saying goes, I "assumed the position." He responded by turning and walking away.

I was surprised and puzzled, and momentarily thought he might walk to the door and leave. Maybe he had seen enough and didn't want any service after all. Maybe he was a straight dude who just wanted to watch? Maybe he didn't think this was the turn on that he hoped it might be? Maybe he just wasn't interested?

He only got a foot away, turned and faced the arm of the couch. He was only a couple of feet away from me now, but that was enough distance in the inky room to make it hard to see anything clearly. I heard some rustling and immediately recognized the sounds of a belt being unbuckled, a zipper coming down and pants being lowered. Lord knows those are all sounds I would recognize in the darkest room. I edged forward a few inches on my knees.

Even in the dark room I could see his form. He was bending over.

This ain't my first rodeo, so I knew then what he wanted. I crawled the foot and a half over to where he was and knelt behind him. It was so dark I thought it was unlikely he noticed that I had crawled over to him on my knees. Normally dudes get a kick out of that kind of submissive shit, so I was disappointed my actions might have gone unnoticed.

He didn't move. So I pressed my face forward with my tongue extended and tasted this stranger's ass for the first time.

His ass was round and full. A top would have said he had a bubble butt. As with a lot of moderately hairy black men, he had totally smooth cheeks and hairy crack. He was also clean. He had a fresh but masculine smell, the typically musky smell from young dudes who aren't long out of the shower. As I got to work, my first thought was how good it was to escape that cologne smell. As fucked up as it sounds, I enjoyed having my nose pressed in his ass more than the smell of his cologne.

I had my hands on the side of his ass, not really roaming around his body, but just bracing myself as I leaned forward. I licked up and down his crack and kissed and licked his cheeks, but like any good rim job I quickly focused on tonguing his asshole. I knew from the moment my face entered his ass that I was going to enjoy rimming this dude, and he was so clean that I did my best to really work his ass over.

I was marveling at this stranger who was bent over the arm of my couch getting his ass eaten. I didn't even know his name. He hadn't said a word. I didn't even have a fake name. Even in the shady, grimy world of random, anonymous internet hookups, we almost always have a fake name to associate with a dick or ass. But this was different. I was irritated and excited at the same time. But I didn't spend too much time worrying or thinking. I could tell from his body movements that he was jacking his dick. I took that as a good sign.

In my experience you have two kinds of dudes who like to get rimmed. There are the ones who want to have it done so they can say they've had it done. They just like the fact that someone was willing to eat their ass - like the taboo and the nastiness of it. For these guys it doesn't take much other than a lot of spit and lots of movement. If you spend too much time near the asshole, they pull away or tell you to stop. For a lot of these types of guys, the asshole is a no-go zone, even with a tongue. The kinky thrill of having someone submit to lick their butt doesn't involve breaching their hole. That would be gay.

Then there are guys who really like getting eaten. They want the movement and the spit and the feeling of a face pressed between their cheeks, but they want you to go deep. This group wants you to pull their ass apart so you can really get to the crack and hole. They want a tongue as deep as possible in their hole. In my experience these guys don't think it's gay to have a tongue as far as possible up their ass, it's just a turn on to know someone is willing to literally taste their insides.

This dude really liked getting his ass eaten. I pulled his cheeks apart slightly and started to tongue his hole. I teased it with the tip of my tongue, going in circles and doing anything I could think of to stimulate him. He liked it. He stopped jacking his dick and reached back with both hands and pulled his cheeks apart hard. That was a green light. I stuck my tongue out as far as I could and pushed my face into his ass as hard as I could.

He still didn't make a sound. Not even a moan. But I didn't need to hear anything to know he was enjoying it. He moved his hands around to the front again and I could tell he was slowly jacking. He was also pushing back, trying to keep my face buried as deep as possible. I was leaning forward with my hands floating, and he was pushing back, so that I was pivoted forward, held up only by my face pressing into his ass.

Now I love eating a black man's ass. If you're with a dude who wants it sloppy and deep, it's hard to find anything that makes me feel sluttier or more frenzied. By letting it get all sloppy and wild and not shying away from tasting his hole, it's an effective way of letting a dude know "there's nothing I won't do." The last important thing he did with his ass was take a shit, and now perhaps an hour or so later I was eating that same hole like it was the best meal on earth. It's one of the most demonstrative ways to submit.

I wanted this quiet stranger to know there wasn't anything I wouldn't do. My face was covered with my own spit. All I could smell and taste was him. All I could see was him. My dick was hard and pressing against my pants. Now I wanted his dick in my mouth and his cum down my throat.

But I hadn't even seen his dick. I wanted to reach around and touch it, but I was afraid. In the game we were playing I just didn't think it was my place to take the initiative. I wasn't bored with his ass, but I was thinking about that dick.

I wondered what his hands looked like. Were they big or his fingers long? I tried to imagine them wrapped around his dick, wondering what all of it looked like. He had that dick in his hands. I think I was a little jealous.

But still I continued my meal. He continued jacking. After it was all over I realized it had lasted about ten minutes, but it seemed like a lot longer. I was actually getting a bit tired. I had been bent over and moving up and down trying to get as much friction on his ass as I could. I was breathing hard and trying to make sure my tongue found its target at least every other pass.

With no warning he pushed me back, not hard, but still with enough purpose that I fell back a little. He turned around, put a hand on my forehead and pushed my head back so I was looking up at him. There it was. The dick. He started jacking with his other hand. As an experienced cocksucker for assertive guys, I knew I should have been making eye contact at this point. But I couldn't help but stare at his dick.

It was at least 8 or 8.5 inches and thick. He was snipped and had a lighter head. At this distance I could see a thick bush of pubic hair at the base of his dick. I desperately wanted to take that dick in my mouth and bury my nose in his pubes. I wanted to smell him there, and really taste him.

At this distance I could smell the cologne again. I still had a face covered with spit and I was sweating, but the cologne was starting to break through. I focused on the dick. But the minute he pushed my head back and started jacking I knew I wasn't going to get what I wanted.

At this point there was a chance I'd get the load in my mouth. That would be my preference. But that hand on the forehead move typically means something else. I was going to get my face painted.

He started jacking harder and I could tell he was tilting his head up and back. I know from trembling that he was close. I opened my mouth and waited.

He fired 6 big shots across my face. The first two hit his hand and my forehead and hair. By the third shot he was looking down and took aim at the center of my face. It was a good load. My eyes and nose and even my mouth got shots. I swallowed quickly, running my tongue across the top of my mouth and lips to try and get as much of the flavor as I could.

And then it was over.

He let go of my head and bent down for his pants as I leaned back to catch my breath. It took him seconds to zip up and start for the door. I was still panting as he opened the door, walked out and slammed the door behind him. I don't know if he slammed it on purpose, but it seemed too loud for an accident.

Damn. There I was, still on my knees but tilted back to rest on my heels. I had his seed all over my face and hair. His cum had a strong smell. He had marked his territory.

Being a cum whore, I scraped as much of his nut off my face as I could and licked it off my fingers. The smell was far more powerful than the taste. But I didn't want to waste it.

I didn't know how I felt about him. I still didn't know his name. I hadn't seen his face. He hadn't cum in my mouth like I wanted him to, and I hadn't tasted his dick. And he never said a fucking word all night. But it would still be wrong to waste a true man's cum.

So many things were going through my mind. I heard my phone alert me to a new text. This guy had me irritated and excited at the same time. I sat there on the floor for at least 4 or 5 more minutes, alone in my thoughts and breathing.

I got more irritated and lurched up, took a piss, and went to my phone. There was a text from the next dude who wanted some head, Dom, but I ignored him for the moment. I texted Dreads asking him why he didn't tell me he was bringing a friend. I was feeling bold. That wasn't a typical text from me to him. For a moment I was just a guy irritated with another guy and asking a legitimate question. I went to the bathroom and washed up.

As I was drying off my face and hair I got the response back from Dreads: "Knew you wouldn't say no"

I was pissed all over again. I knew he was right. He knew he was right. But still, that took some balls. To just show up with some dude and expect sex without any warning. Sight unseen. But like he said, he knew I wouldn't say no. I couldn't argue the point. He was right. At the time that irritated me even more. I sent him a response text saying it still wasn't cool to not at least mention it.

All I got in response was: "Knew you would do it"

It's so annoying when you realize other people know you as well as that...

Damn. At this point it was getting close to 8 pm and if things went as planned in about an hour I would have another visitor. Time to move on. But I couldn't get that dude out of my head. He had used me like a two-bit whore for his pleasure, without even an ounce of civility or humanity. I kept thinking about him.

ROUND THREE

So Dom had sent a text checking on our appointment. He was still at the gym but was already thinking about his next workout. Or working me out, as it were...

I responded that we were good to go. I decided it was uncool to have another dude's smell on me when the next trick arrived, so I washed up again. I don't know if that makes me a considerate whore, or just the sort of experienced whore who knows how jealous men can sometimes be...

There was something about that quiet stranger that kept my head spinning. He hadn't said a damn word. He had made himself at home in my house. He had watched me service his friend. He just bent over and waited for me to eat his ass. He busted a fat nut all over my face. And he walked out slamming the door. And Dreads just knew I would do him. And Dreads walked out and left us alone. The whole thing just pissed me off. But it also made my dick hard.

As I mentioned earlier, I had put off hooking up with Dom quite a few times due to his aggressive face-fucking style. In our last round of texts he had begrudgingly agreed to take it easy on me in exchange for me hooking up with him again. And so finally he was just minutes away.

He liked the scene set in a similar fashion to Dreads - and similar to the way a lot of dudes I hook up with like it. Dark room. Porn optional. I went ahead and put on some interracial gay porn and thought it might set the mood. If I wasn't going to let him gag me with his dick the whole night I might as well give him something erotic to watch that might help him get off.

He arrived a few minutes after 9 and I dropped to my knees in front of the couch. He stood in front of me and undid his pants and boxer briefs and dropped them to his feet. He was already hard, so I went right to work. I started slowly, to get him wet all the way to the base, and worked on him for about 3 or 4 minutes. I reached up and put my hands on his ass, not just to brace myself but also because I wanted to touch his ass. As soon as I did that he leaned back and sat on the couch.

In the cocksucking world, there are mainly two kinds of customers we serve. Standers and sitters. Dom is a sitter. That can be easier, but it can also be harder. A deep throat freak like Dom would be easier for me to take if he was standing. The pathway just seems better suited to going deep. Perhaps he knows that and that's why he likes to sit - just to make it as hard as possible for his victim.

But even after he sits, Dom was true to his word. He never grabbed my head. He urged me on with some nasty talk and even got me to lick his balls some - something traditionally he wasn't all that thrilled with. I was just giving an old-fashioned easy-going blow job, going from slow and easy to fast and deep as I deemed fit.

I'm there working on this dude's dick, enjoying the taste and smell and feeling, but my mind keeps wandering back. Back to the other dude from an hour or so before. Everything about him and the night was flashing before my eyes. Him in my chair. Him not saying a word. Him cumming on my face. His hairy ass. His thick dick inches from my mouth. Him slamming my door. Damn. My dick was hard now.

That silent dude from earlier left me feeling like a total slut. I felt so trashy, so grimy. I was so horny all of the sudden, just thinking about how he treated me. He got exactly what he wanted. He didn't want head, so I didn't get any dick. He wanted his ass eaten, so that's what happened. He wanted to jack off his own dick and shoot on my face, so that's what happened. He used me. I was getting crazy horny again just thinking about him.

I went deep on Dom's dick, gagging myself on the hook as I tried to take him down my throat. He groaned "Oh, Fuck!" and convulsed his whole body in response. I went to town, trying to suck him as hard and fast and deep as I could. He was literally shaking in 30 seconds. I heard him chuckle out "Damn, you're gonna make me bust," and I realized it was both wrong and unnecessary to hold him back from what he wanted. I was so horny for dick, thinking about that other dude, that I wanted to be as slutty as possible. I was getting that crazy, frenzied horny feeling again. It was time to take off the reins.

I took one of his hands and put it on the back of my head. All he said was "Yeah, Bitch, I thought so..." and pulled hard, in one motion burying his dick down my throat and pressing my face against his crotch.

My body was trying desperately to evict this invader. I was fighting the urge to choke, throw up and breath all at the same time. My eyes were watering and my nose was running. He held me in place for a good 10 seconds or so, and I pulled off the minute he loosened the pressure, gasping for breath like a drowning man reaching the surface of the water.

I got a couple of decent breaths in and then I felt that hand. He took it relatively easy on me, but he still got the face-fuck he wanted. I choked and gagged and nearly threw up a half dozen times, but I kept at it. I wanted Dom to cum. And I wanted it now.

But I also realized the horny part of me wanted him to have the blow job experience that turned HIM on, even if that was more work on my part. I was supposed to be doing this shit for him. Thinking about that bold stranger from earlier made things clearer. Putting too many of these personal restrictions on what Dom could do made me no better than some girl complaining about oral sex. I was supposed to be better than that. Sometimes horniness can bring clarity.

I knew from experience that no amount of friction was going to get him off. The only thing that really got him to the point of explosion was to let him go deep and hold it. I guess that euphoria from going all the way down was what turned him on. I took as many deep breaths as I could, curved my neck, arched my back and bottomed out. I let him stay dug in to my core for 5-10 seconds, but let him have that maybe a dozen times. He was at bat and hit a home run over and over again. I was focused on his success and pleasure and gave him exactly what he needed and craved. That was all it took.

He tensed up, let out a hell of a yell "Oh, Shit!" and urged me on. "Swallow it. Swallow it. Swallow it!!!"

As he started to cum he tried to get deep again, but I gagged one last time and pulled up in plenty of time to get my mouth full of his nut. I let him get what he wanted, but I also made sure I got what I wanted.

I fell back on my ass and he pulled himself up and started to get dressed again. We exchanged a few pleasantries and then he was out. It had been about 25 minutes. Not a record, but that was pretty fast for him. I guess I had been inspired to do a good job.

Little did Dom know it was a dick I hadn't even tasted from about an hour earlier than had been my inspiration. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Hell, it even helped him tonight!

I went right to the bathroom and jacked off a huge load. It felt like I had lost a hundred pounds. I was immediately exhausted. I cleaned up the living room and all the slobber from the couch and floor in front and then went upstairs and cleaned up again.

I remembered that I had left the dog locked up in the other room so I let her out and took her outside to pee. As I was standing out there I realized I was hungry. I had been eating men all night, but no real food. I was starving. I had been fooling around all night and had completely forgotten to eat any dinner.

It took me minutes to realize I needed to get out of the house. I was keyed up from the night's events. I was hungry. I needed to drive and eat. I need to hear loud music. I need to think.

I have a friend who works late, who also happens to be the one person I can share my adventures with. He's straight as a rail, but he's a big freak too in his own way. The stories I tell, even the nastiest ones, don't make him flinch. He doesn't judge, or at least he doesn't judge to my face... He's done all the same things in his own way and probably a lot more. It's good to have someone to confide in. Blog or diary entries that are read only by me just don't do the trick when you need to get something off your chest. And I had one of those nights I couldn't keep to myself.

I knew he'd be down for a late night meal, and I needed to get out. I grabbed us some food, cranked up the car stereo and sped like a demon across town to his office. At one point I realized I was going over 80 mph on the interstate and didn't even know it. My mind was still totally preoccupied with the night's events - especially the silent stranger.

My buddy and I chopped it up, ate some food and yet I was still hyperactive. I even smoked a real cigarette that I bummed off my bud, something I haven't done in a long time. My mind was just in a different place. I told him the whole story, and he predicted not only that the stranger would come back for more, but that I wanted him to. It turns out he was right.

Right then I made the decision to hit up Dreads. I wanted him to know that if the stranger from tonight wanted to go again I was down. I didn't have contact info on the stranger, so Dreads would have to be the conduit. I sent Dreads a text.

Then I was happy. I made the decision to reach out and see if I could reconnect with this dude. He irritated me and excited me. I was hyper just thinking about him, even hours later, and even after sucking off another guy. It may not work out, but it wouldn't be my fault if I never saw him again. A closed mouth don't get fed, as they say...

I had no idea I would get my wish so soon...

ROUND FOUR - THE FINALE

After hanging with my friend across town, I slowly made my way back home. I was a lot calmer now. I guess the excitement and hyperactivity from earlier was based on me being undecided about this new dude, about not knowing how I felt about our hookup. I was irritated and turned on and curious and unsure, all at the same time. Now I had sent the text to Dreads inviting another meeting with this stranger. I had done my part. It was out of my hands.

I got back to the house about quarter to 12 and got a text from an unknown number.

"Will come thru tonight. 12:30"

Wtf? Who is this? In milliseconds it dawned on me. It was the stranger.

Damn, Dreads and this dude both work fast. It never occurred to me when I sent that text to Dreads that he would think I meant I wanted another round tonight. Hmm. Well, damn.

I might as well be honest. I wasn't upset. I was excited. Although I had wacked off after Dom left, I was still keyed up over this dude. The minute I saw the text the fever pitch was back. I was so excited I was about to pee in my pants. I felt like a little girl who just got a pet pony from daddy for Christmas. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and put some cologne on to get the food smell off me. I would have danced around if I hadn't been more concerned about getting myself and the place ready in a hurry. This was going to be the fourth sexual escapade in my living room in 6 hours. I needed to make sure it was clean and there was no slobber or cum on the couch or the floor. I even cleared some more room on the couch and ottoman just in case we needed to spread out. My thoughts in this regard were foreshadowing the events to come...

I replied to the stranger's text. Me: "Is this the guy from earlier?"

Him: "Yea"

I knew it was him, but I had to ask. It would have been sketchy and too innocent not to at least ask. What I didn't know is if it meant they were coming together. He had texted me directly. I immediately knew I wanted him to cum alone, no pun intended. Dreads was optional at this point. I suspected it was just going to be the two of us. One way to find out...

Me: "Alone or both of you?" I waited.

Him: "Alone"

Hot damn! It was on.

Me: "Cool, see you at 12:30."

I still had plenty of time. I decided to take a shower. Might as well take the opportunity to be fresh. I expected to remain fully clothed, as usual, but it never hurts to be prepared for anything. Again, foreshadowing...

By 12:25 I was clean, dressed and nervous as fuck. I was more uneasy than when meeting a random off Craigslist for the first time in a MacDonald's parking lot. I knew this guy. I knew what he smelled like in places that only bitches he had fucked would have any chance to know.

But I actually knew less about him than I typically know about random first-time meets. No name, not even a fake one. I didn't know if he lived here, if he was married, if he was bi or straight or gay. I didn't get to ask the preliminary screening questions like was he HIV negative or have any STDs. I knew he liked to get rimmed and he had a nice ass. Hardly a lot of information. But, it was enough for tonight...

12:30 came and went. 12:40 came and went. 12:50 came and went. I was beginning to worry he wouldn't show. Damn. I was practically in a tizzy. Not mad - not at him. Not now. I was just worried. New dick has that effect.

At 12:53 I got a text: "on my way"

What a relief! Of course there was no "sorry" or explanation for why he was late, but that was hardly surprising. I've been doing this shit long enough to know those kinds of expectations are a fool's errand. Expect to get dick, but anything else, including timing, is out of my control.

So he wouldn't be left waiting on the doorstep, I let him know by text that he could just come in when he arrived. "Door unlocked, just come in," I texted him.

I was standing by the window, peeking out the blinds. I had darkened the room and put the dog away. I didn't think about putting on some porn - my mind was elsewhere. It was so quiet and dark. Although it was late, and it had already been a busy evening, I wasn't tired. I was ready.

A little after 1:00 am he pulled in the driveway. I waited until I saw him get out of the car and then I assumed the position. He hadn't given any instructions, but being there on my knees when he came in just seemed like the appropriate course of action. I was on the floor by the couch, ready for whether he wanted to sit or stand. I try to be accommodating.

He walked in, closed and locked the door and then slowly made his way over to me. My heart was beating a mile a minute at that point. The cologne hit me, and despite the fact I didn't really like the scent, it made my dick hard. Here he was again. Not even 6 hours later. Just the two of us. No Dreads waiting in the truck outside.

I just sat there on my knees. The ball was in his court. I wondered for a second or two if he was going to wait and let me make the first move. I didn't have long to wait. He finally spoke.

His voice was deep and his volume was low. It was deadpan and completely normal, only a little quieter than what you might hear in a normal conversation. There was no emotion in his voice.

I guess I was expecting to learn more from the first words I heard. He sat down on the couch and had his legs spread wide. I was maybe a foot away from him on my knees, facing him.

He was wearing what appeared to be sweatpants or pajama pants. They were loose-fitting and dark in color. He had on a what appeared to be two plain white t-shirts, the baggier of the two on the outside. He had on either low-cut socks or none at all. As he was sitting there with his legs spread the sweatpants cuffs were showing some skin above the shoes. He had on Nike tennis shoes. I noticed the brand but not much else, other than they were pretty new. You couldn't tell much from what he was wearing other than his goal was to be comfortable. He might have been walking in the mall with that on, or going to the grocery store. But I digress...

"Take off my shoes."

His first words to me were an instruction. I complied.

He extended his left foot towards me, making it clear where I was to begin. I unlaced his sneaker, and tried to pull the shoe gently off the foot he now held up off the floor for easy access. I'm guessing he wore an 11 medium, an average size. But the shoe wasn't coming off easy.

"Just pull it off," he said, in the same low, unremarkable voice. I gave his shoe a yank and it was off.

He pulled his left foot back and extended the right. I quickly unlaced and yanked that one off.

I've been down this road before, so I knew what was coming next. I waited though, to see if he was going to give me an instruction. Sometimes these things are waiting games. He might want to see if I'll take initiative. Taking initiative can lead to reward or it can lead to punishment. It's hard to tell if you're better off waiting for instruction or permission. I wasn't in a hurry.

"Socks," he said quietly, as he held up the left foot again.

He had on plain white no-show socks. I had the left sock off in one swipe. Up came his right foot and that sock came off as well. Now he was sitting barefooted before me. Again, this wasn't my first time down this road. I knew what was coming next. It was inevitable.

He held up his left foot again, and said "Suck em."

Now there are lots of sexual things between dudes that can have varied meanings. Sucking toes is not one of them. It's simply an act of domination. Feet and toes aren't erogenous zones. No one gets direct sexual stimulation from the toes. If a man tells you to suck his toes, he's doing it to show dominion over you. It may be role play, but it clearly establishes who's the boss.

It's also trashy and kinky and degrading and demeaning. It makes me feel like a total whore. He's essentially walking all over me. You know your place in the pecking order when you lower yourself and put a man's feet in your mouth. Of course I loved it.

I started with the big toe and sucked that for a while. I went from toe to toe, and eventually took several of them in my mouth at a time. His feet were clean and well-shaped. They smelled like new Nikes.

I worked my way down and licked the bottom of his foot, from the heel back to his toes, several times. In my experience, the expectation after sucking the toes is licking the bottom of the foot. It just feels like the natural next step. And I didn't mind. I kissed and licked the top of his foot up to his ankle, making sure I covered as much of his foot as possible. I didn't feel rushed and I didn't want him to think I was rushing. I wanted him to see me taking the time and care to make sure I did the job right. As with so many other kinky things, if you're gonna do it, you might as well fucking do it right...

He pulled his left foot away gently and held up his right. I started on that foot, just as I had done with the other. The only switch was that as soon as I started on his right toes, he slowly lowered his foot so his heel was resting on the floor. When I was servicing his left foot, he was able to rest it on my ottoman. As he lowered his right foot I was compelled to follow it down to the floor. Not only was I on my knees kissing this stranger's feet, I was kneeling forward with my face practically on the floor.

Having my face on the floor was symbolically important. It was worship, or at least looked like it. If someone had been watching they would have seen this man sitting there, with another man literally kneeling at his feet, bent over to the floor before him. I couldn't go any lower, and he couldn't be raised up any higher. The submissive and the dominant. He was like a king sitting there. Or a god. And I was there, prostrated before him. Kissing his feet. Worshiping my god.

When he had had enough, he stood up, and I pulled back up to my knees. I got another instruction.

"Take off my pants."

I reached forward and pulled his sweatpants down easily. He stepped out of the sweats one foot at the time and then kicked his sweats to the side. He was wearing boxers, with his dick swollen against the fabric, so I gently stuck my fingers in his waistband and pulled them down slowly. I watched his dick spring out from the fabric and stick straight out, pointed right at me. With a shake of his foot the boxers were cast to the side. He pulled his outer t-shirt up and off his head. He pulled his wife-beater undershirt over his head and across his shoulders, gangster or porn movie style. He carried it off well. He was standing there in front of me naked except for the wife-beater stretched over his shoulders. Damn, he looked pretty good.

He had a nice naturally muscular build. He had a little belly on him, but it was just a little bulge right there at his tummy. His torso was actually pretty sexy, and he carried it well on his generally thick frame. He was moderately hairy on the chest, tummy and legs. He didn't look like a gym freak, or a muscle builder. He looked strong, like an athlete, or a guy who's active enough that he doesn't need to work out.

I wonder what my face looked like as he was looking down at me. I looked him over from top to bottom, and finished looking back at his face.

He reached down and casually jacked his dick with a quick one-handed motion, and then immediately turned around and got on his knees on the couch, with his ass popped out like a bottom ready to get fucked. I knew he didn't want dick though. He wanted his ass eaten. I was familiar with his ass from just hours before. It was like coming home. I worked him over for a good 5 minutes. I felt him jacking again, and I wondered if we were going to end soon with him cumming all over my face. I thought about missing out on tasting his dick again, but I didn't need to worry for long.

I had my hands on his waist, but he reached around and grabbed my right hand and pulled it forward to his dick. I had finally made contact.

I explored his dick with my hand as I jacked him slowly, trying to focus on giving him a good rim job at the same time. His dick felt good, and had been deprived until now, so I have to admit I was distracted. A few minutes later he stood up and turned around to face me. His dick was pointing right at my face again, but this time he was about to hit home.

"Suck my dick."

I didn't need to be asked twice. I wanted to take my time, start with the head and work my way down slowly, really savoring this prize that I had been forced to work for. But I had waited so long I was afraid I might miss out if I took my time. So I dove down and was taking him almost completely in my mouth within 30 seconds. I was quickly trying to do the best I could with a usual combo of tongue and lip action, even making sure to make the exaggerated slurping sounds that are synonymous with dick sucking. It was wet and I'm pretty sure it was good. He didn't make a sound, but his dick was swelling up and was already hard as a rock. He was too long and too thick for me to deep throat, but I was willing to push it so that on each downstroke he was hitting the back of my throat. I wasn't gagging, but I was putting in work. My reward was a hand on the back of my head.

He started pulling me forward on the downstroke. Not a vicious grab, but enough pressure to let me know to keep going and to have his say in the pace of play. It was gentle but affirmative cocksucker guidance. I love that feeling. I love the message it conveys. It's a top dog's way of telling his cocksucker that although the sucker may be doing all the work, it's the man on top that really calls the shots.

We went at it for a few minutes this way. He got a bit more aggressive a few times, and I gagged a few times. I made sure to gag the first few times, although I made it sound more severe than it actually was. I know from experience that having someone gag on their dick is a turn on for a lot of dudes, and I thought this guy deserved it. As soon as I gagged, he loosened up the pressure and let me come up for air. I'm not new to this either, and I appreciated him giving me a chance to regain my composure, so I quickly got back to work.

He moved his hand from my neck to the top of my head, gently grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me off his dick. I instinctively looked up at him and tried to lick away some of the spit around the edges of my mouth. He reached down and wiped some of my spit off my lip. He stuck that finger in my mouth and I closed my lips around it and sucked gently on his finger. He stuck another finger in my mouth and then a third. I sucked them all, and continued licking and sucking as he pumped his three-finger salute in my mouth in a fucking motion. Fingers in the mouth is another act of domination, as if we needed any more examples... Our roles were clearly established hours earlier in our first meeting.

He laid back on my couch and issued his next instruction: "Lick my chest."

So this was a little unexpected, but I was willing to play along. It was a chance to explore his body, and to put my tongue to work. Dogs experience the world through their noses. Their sense of smell is their strongest tool. Cocksuckers experience the world through their mouth. Our strongest tool is our tongue.

He was moderately hairy on his chest, but it was primarily a "treasure trail" down the middle of his chest and getting a bit more dense on his belly and down to his crotch. Not too much or too little. It looked good on him. I licked his stomach and worked my way up to lick and suck on his nipples. I took my time, but this didn't do much for me. I was eager to head back "downstairs" for the bigger prizes. But I was there for his pleasure, not mine.

As I leaned over him to lick his farthest nipple I brushed against his arm. He was jacking his dick. I wondered what was next as I moved around his chest and stomach with my tongue. He had an idea.

"Lick my pit."

I didn't hesitate, but in my mind I was a little stunned. I've done this a couple of times before but it's rare in my experience. This was a kinky bastard. His pits were clean. It was just like licking a hairy leg or belly. I was so close to his face I could hear him breathing. I knew this was as close to his face as I was ever going to get. I tried to enjoy it, letting the sluttiness of the act sink in. Like feet and toes, arm pits are not erogenous zones, at least not for most dudes. So me licking under his arms was about something more than physical pleasure. Dude was punking me tonight.

He stood up after a while, backing me off him again. He ran his hands down his torso and to his legs, almost like he was smoothing the wrinkles from a wrinkled shirt. I was just on my knees looking up at him.

His next instruction really took me by surprise.

"Take off your pants."

Oh shit. My mind immediately went to my ass. I just knew I was going to get the shit fucked out of me. Damn.

I started to say something, but stopped myself. I didn't have a condom, hadn't cleaned myself to get fucked, and I just wasn't mentally prepared. I wasn't sure I was going to say anything, but it seemed like I should go ahead and strip while I was thinking about my next course of action. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my pants while he watched. I just stood there for a second, fighting the urge to drop to my knees. I got my marching orders moments later:

"Bend ovah mah leg and lean on that stool," he said, referring to my ottoman, in the closest thing to a sultry tone of voice I had heard all evening.

I wondered if he was going to finger my ass. A finger or two is one thing, but typically that's just a precursor to a dick up the ass. I did what I was told though.

I leaned forward and bent over his leg and rested my head on the ottoman. There were more surprises to come. I could feel him lean over and grab something off the floor. Moments later he had a hand beside my head and told me to lift up my head and open my mouth. Not sure what was happening, I complied nonetheless.

I immediately knew it was a sock as he stuffed it in to my open mouth. Damn this was getting intense. Was he worried I was going to scream? And what was he planning to do that was going to make me want to scream?!?! My mind was spinning a million miles per hour as I felt him lean over to the floor again. He told me to hold my head up again and I did as he instructed. I felt him pulling something over the top of my head, and then panic really started to set in. My head was being covered with some sort of fabric, and it was an odd and unsettling feeling. Finally I realized he had put his boxers on my head. I wasn't panicking anymore, but I was still kind of freaked out. This dude had stuck a sock in my mouth and pulled his boxers over my head. What the fuck?

Before I had a chance to really figure anything out I felt the first slap on my ass. A few seconds later he slapped my ass again. He started a rhythm, picking up the intensity a little as he went from one cheek to the other. I was getting spanked. It was a weird feeling. It didn't feel good, but it certainly wasn't painful. It was a mind-fuck, but it wasn't anything too wild.

The thought crystalized in my mind just how grimy this whole thing was. An unknown stranger was in my house having his way with me the second time in one night. I was gagged with a sock and had my head covered as some dude was spanking my ass, on my own couch. I had only known this dude for a few hours.

And then he started to spank me harder.

There's a fine line between playful but aggressive spanking and being truly paddled. I don't know exactly when that line was crossed, but I suddenly knew it happened. He was really starting to wail on my bare ass. The sound of your own ass being slapped is hard to explain. Combined with the sharp, stinging pain, the sensations are hard to describe.

I guess I started to make some noise - probably a low moan. I didn't even realize I was making a sound, but he must have heard it.

"Shut up."

It wasn't loud or angry, but clear and firm. My dick started to get hard.

He took both hands and started slapping both cheeks at the same time. It was really starting to hurt. I heard myself cry out the next time he came down hard with both hands.

"Shut the fuck up," he said, this time a little louder.

He didn't miss a beat though, no pun intended. He kept slapping my ass, usually with just one hand, but sometimes with both.

I was really starting to get sore. Each slap was really stinging, and I knew my pale ass would be black and blue tomorrow. This started to seem more like punishment than just a kinky game. He told me to "Shut the fuck up" again, and my dick got harder.

"Shut the fuck up."

I don't know why this was happening. I like to submit and I like kinky, nasty stuff, but pain has never been a turn on for me. That's one of the reasons I don't like to bottom. Too much pain!

The pain was getting worse, but my dick was getting harder. With each slap I was letting out a muffled cry and grinding against his hairy leg. The friction was getting the best of me.

He kept at it. I kept crying out and he kept telling me the same thing:

"Shut the fuck up."

I wouldn't have know it, but clearly I was turned on. I didn't even feel it happening, but I busted my nut while I was under assault. Unfortunately I was still basically humping dude's leg while he slapped my ass silly, and so my cum shot all over his leg.

He reacted immediately, jumping up so fast he nearly tossed me in to the floor. He grabbed a throw blanket off my couch and bent down to wipe my cum off his leg and foot. He clearly wasn't happy. I was still in a daze. Normally after I cum everything clears up for me. I'm usually ready to be done. This time I was still wound up.

"Get on your knees."

I got on my knees and he walked over to me again. He turned around and bent forward so his hands were on the couch. His ass was sticking out again so I knew what to do. I ate his ass for the third time as he started jacking again.

I was content, but I wondered if I was going to be punished for busting my nutt all over him. Even with my ass still stinging from the beating he had been dishing out with his bare hands for god knows how long, the real punishment for me would be not getting his cum in my mouth. As much as I love mealing on his ass, I wanted his cum. And not on my face this time, please...

I was really tonguing his hole again and he was jacking harder. As I pulled his ass apart to get better access to his hole I could feel him shaking as he really tugged on his dick hard. I may not know his name, but I had been with him long enough tonight to know he was close to busting. I tried to prepare myself.

He spun around, grabbed a handful of my hair and tilted my head up. He grabbed his dick with his other hand and started jacking again. I thought the nut was going to start spitting all over my face any moment, so I was surprised when I got another instruction - the final of the night.

"Open ya mouth and stick out ya tongue."

Oh, wow. As soon as I did what I was told, he shoved his dick in my mouth all the way to the root. I nearly choked on the sudden invasion, but my gag reflex relaxed as soon as he pulled out and then yanked my head back down again. I grabbed his waist to brace myself, and quickly moved my hands so I was holding myself up by grabbing his ass. He got three more thrusts in and then on the fourth he bottomed out and held me down on his dick. I felt his body tense up and felt him tighten his grip on my hair, probably pulling a handful out, as he fired off his load. I felt his hot seed spraying the back of my mouth and dripping down my throat. As soon as he fired off the second or third spurt he loosened his grip enough that I could take all his nut and not gag. I relaxed and just let him come down naturally.

I had won. This made it all worth while, even the rather brutal paddling.

He was spent, and I was tired enough to enjoy the chance to just rest, feel and taste his cum as I let it pool in my mouth. He finally pulled out, and I swallowed the juice. My work was done. I fell back on my ass again, catching my breath and staring up at him.

His chest was heaving as he too caught his breath and slowly came down from his high. He was standing there, looking too good for words. I wanted him again right then and there. I wanted to just stare at him. I wanted to suck his dick again. I wanted to lick his ass again. I wanted to lick him all over, all night. He was worthy of worship.

He asked for a towel and that broke my trance. I jumped up and ran to the kitchen to grab a handful of paper towels. I skipped back to him, perhaps a little too eagerly, and handed them over. He wiped himself down from dick to ass and then casually tossed the paper towels on the floor. It took him about a minute to get all his clothes back on. The longest delay was looking for the sock he had gagged me with. I handed the spit-soaked sock to him but he put it on without comment. I guess he knew there was no point in complaining since he had been the one to shove it in my mouth.

As soon as he was dressed he was gone. And he slammed the door again on his way out. Damn! Maybe that's some kind of signature move of his? Maybe he was just putting an exclamation point on a night where he had claimed the top spot on the food chain. It was hardly necessary, but so little about what he had done to me tonight was about the necessary. It was about his will.

I just sat there on my bare ass in the middle of my living room. My head was still spinning. This had ended up as one hell of a night. I thought I was going to be a big hit tonight scoring dick from two regulars. In the end, it was a surprise stranger that ended up winning tonight's trophy. His cologne had faded already, but he was still very much in the room. His taste was still in my mouth, his smell was all over my face, his bruises were on my ass, and his pubes were between my teeth. As his car was driving away he was still dominating every one of my senses.

So far this change of seasons was working out better than expected. Early spring warmth had generated an early spring dick down. This early spring night was a blackout. Damn.