Disclaimer: This is a fictional soap that contains tales of graphic homoerotica. These may not be legal in your area or you may be under age. If so or if the material is likely to offend you please leave now.
The Sword Eater
It is way past dark as I pushed through into the toilet in the male performer's dressingroom/caravan. He is checking himself out in the mirror above the sink. I stop and check out his tat. Today when he was performing he had a sleeveless shirt on so I only saw a graphic swirl on one arm and an eagle head on the other. Now I see his bare back and realise it is a whole eagle in flight, one wing on the arm, the other down his spine. He is wiry, much older than me, maybe in his forties, cleanshaven, dark eyes and long black hair. Our eyes meet in the mirror. "Nice tat ah too ah," I mumble, realizing I am staring. "Thanx, I like your pricking," he said in his gipsy like accent. I laugh, I know he means my piercings. I have grometted earlobes and lots of rings in my face. This is not unusual given what I do. Four mouths of the year I work with a skateboard, BMX carnival that does fairs and show across the country. We are in Freo., the strip has been closed off, our bike ramp dominates the street.
I mused he had not a clue what my clothes covered. "I bet you have a `Prince Albert'" he said, as if reading my thoughts.
I am disoriented. I know the comeon of a poof when I hear it but that is not why I am freaked. Half the guys I travel with are hetroflexibles and they talk about it openly. It is more that I am getting hard; no doubt both because I need a piss and my woman is months back in Melbourne. As I am here for a piss I am going to have to show my dick or woose-out; besides I am kind of proud of my fuck-tool's appendage. He had turned to face me as I undid my jeans. "Uh-ah!" I announce as my hardon erupts from my clothes clipped by a shinny, 30ml. frenum, tipped by its centimetre knob. The eagle tat man falls to his knees in front of me begging: "can I kiss it?"
Any man likes his cock to be worshipped so I say nothing as he kisses, licks then sucks my hardon and its metal. He plumps it deep into his throat so my balls smack his chin. Remembering his act which included swallowing half metre swords I suppose it is not hard for him. My woman loves sucking my cock but with the frenum she could not swallow it deep. I remember how by hooking my frenum through her clit-ring I could get her cuming in no time even when I was sexually dudded. Thoughts of Jan brings me back to what is happening. "Hay man I gotta piss," I say. My cock is softening slightly as I try to take it back.
"Go ahead," said a Yankee accent as he swallowed my cock again. If that what you want man; I unleash a flood of piss down his oesophagus, straight into his guts. It is the hottest piss I have ever had; my body tingled with sexual energy as well as continent relief. His act included fire breathing; maybe his stomach can use the urine to manufacture flammable breath. As he guzzles my piss easily I decide to slow it, test his capacity to hold breath. Given his act it is not surprising I run out of piss before he needs a breath. I give his throat a couple a couple of hard pumps to finish up but that means that by the time I take my cock back it is still hard and horny. This guy is a performer and at the moment I feel like I am an assistant he has selected from the audience.
He turns, leans towards the urinal and slips his dacks down to his thighs. His buttocks are taunt muscle decorated with the tat of a portal; a plinth above his arse crack is supported by black columns, two on each buttock. I look closer and see the columns say: FUCK IT, the U stacked on top of the C which is on the K. My hard dick is drawn to the narrow entrance, but as my cockhead hits flesh I realise that it is dry as the nun's proverbial and like I do not know how I am suppose get it wet.
"Beat it bikeman," back to Gipsy accent, "show ya bitch whose boss." Now Jan and I do a bit of that stuff both in housekeeping and in bed; in fact our best fucks are after a domestic. I slap his thighs and pelvis hard and his sphincter dilates hooking my frenum in and dragging my cock head in next. I push into his arse chute with a few more slaps but am marooned with half my dick in. I am standing upright, connected to him only by my pole. Then I realize I am just where he wants me.
What follows is hardly me fucking him. While he is not handling his erection I can feel it bouncing about, his hanging balls are gyrating like juggled balls. My cock is hardly moving; the centimetre knob on the end of my frenum is at the mercy of, what I presume is, his prostate; it is being manipulated forward and back less than two centimetres. Our sexual hum lasts for ages as his analogue feedback is feed to my cock, via my frenum, giving me sensations I never thought possible. I know he is cuming before he moans by the violently bucking prostate; way before his jizt splatters the stainless steel urinal it buffets my cock on its ride up his tubes. Then I am cuming too, my precum loosens the tight anal grip on my dick and I plunge into him whooping a release; fortunately he support himself well so when my full weight falls on him we do not collapse. He yells as my rod hit arse-end at the same time I growl my first spunk blast. I draw out a bit and wiggle my cock but my legs have melted and I collapse on the fuck, slapping him as I discharge erotic plasma.
When I get my cock back I check, seeing it is relatively clean; I stuff it straight back into my pants. His pants are up as well, gives me his showman smile and says: "Seeya," in an Assie drawl as I push back through the door to the lockers and dressing area. Aaron sits there.
"Thought I should wait," he says smiling. Aaron a slight bloke, green, spiky hair, the colour of his eyes; he has a dozen rings on his face. He is great on the skateboard, where I ride my bike or board he does ballet on his. He goes into the toilet area as I leave the caravan. As I pass a window I hear the Yankee accent again:
"Ready for a ride bitch?"
"Yes sir," is Aaron reply.
------------------- Feed back welcome, Mike.