Dildo Tales

I have to confess, the size of the thing rather took my breath away when he first brought it out, unaccustomed as I was in those youthful days to dildos, and most other sex toys if it comes to that.

He’d been a friend for a number of years (platonic but close) and we’d fallen into sex with each other during difficult times on the home-front; mine, not his. Things can fall apart sometimes, and good friends become something more.

I’d moved away from home while the situation sorted itself out, living on my own, adrift and a bit hopeless. He’d rallied around, and one night, staying too late, he’d shared my bed and stuff had happened.

Good stuff, you know, a bit of spooning in bed after we’d turned out the light, his breath on the back of my neck, a kiss, just letting me know it would be okay. Tucked up close, I could feel his boner hiding in his underpants, pressing against my buttocks, nice.

“Do you mind?” he’d asked, and I didn’t, naturally. I’d taken his hand, placed it on my hard cock, hidden behind the shield of my boxers, nothing to see here. But there was of course, plenty to see, as his hand slipped inside and held my flesh, nice.

We’d fucked, of course, and kissed, and smelt each other’s bodies, and sucked each other’s cocks, and swallowed each other’s semen, and all before midnight, if I recall correctly. I don’t think either of us had quite realised the force of our secret attraction, until then.

And so we’d gone on, even after things returned to normal on the homefront, meeting and fucking and enjoying each other’s hidden desires, many of them dormant before being prodded into life by our freewheeling friendship.

Then the dildo appeared during an afternoon of elicit sex, skiving off work, like naughty schoolboys. He’d said he had a surprise, and he was right. A double-headed dildo, thicker than his penis, or mine, and as long as you wanted it to be.

“You or me?” I asked, knowing the answer already. Stripped off, I lay on my back and opened my legs, a view he always admired, my pink hole partially obscured by my low hanging balls and the jumbled hair of my crack. 

“You too” I demanded, and he began to strip in front of me, making my limp dick twitch. His smooth, pale body came into view, cock semi-hard, hairless balls hanging just right, slight beer belly overhanging his thick, luxuriant bush. A favourite spot. My cock twitched some more.

He had the lube ready and waiting. I suggested we may need quite a bit, and laughed nervously. He climbed onto the bed between my legs, his hands running from my ankles to my thighs, relishing my hairiness, cock getting harder. His and mine.

He cups my furry balls, knows how to pull on them just this side of too much, forcing a groan from my lips, which he likes to hear. My dick stands up, foreskin draws back, a bead of juice leaks from the slit. He catches it with his tongue. 

Another groan as he teases my tight hole. I clench instinctively while he rubs and massages, moistening his fingers with his own juice to gain partial entry, before squeezing out some lube, allowing one, two, three fingers easy access. 

He moves around inside my passage; “It’s warm and soft in there” he purrs, pushing in further still. I’d like him to fuck me now, but he has other business on his mind, despite the hardness of his dick, which will be accounted for later.

He withdraws his hand and watches as the flower of my anus contracts back to tightness, or at least the appearance of. Taking up the dildo he smears lube liberally over the knob at one end and down to the halfway point of the shaft, caressing it almost lovingly, which makes his cock bob and bounce in the air. 

“Take it slow” I caution, knowing that he would anyway; he is a gentle lover, even when the games get rough. He lifts my balls and presses the rubbery head against my ring, pushing slightly, transfixed as the mushroom knob slides easily in, past my sphincter, sending a jolt through my body.

“How’s that?”, holding steady as I accommodate the giant tool. “Fine” I respond, slightly breathless, “more”. 

He needs no further encouragement and appears transfixed by the sight of my arse sucking in more and more of the shaft. He laughs and tells me he can’t believe how much I can take, which makes me want to take more. For him.

“Can you feel it inside? he asks, but the look on my face answers his question. Mouth open, eyes glazed, a sort of delirium upon me, moaning deep and real, everything electric, “fuck, fuck, fuck….” is all I can say.

“Fuck!” he responds, “fuck, fuck, fuck…..”. 

How long do I lie there, blissed out by a toy? Forever probably, or at least until he slowly starts to withdraw it, inch by inch by inch, until I feel the bulbous head push past my sphincter once again and plop out with a squelch and a fart. I can’t even laugh, just lie there, astonished.

My dick is limp, his too, so preoccupied have we both been. 

Minutes pass, he massages my stretched arsehole, watching as it relaxes and tightens. Leaning down he kisses me, long and deep. I feel his cock stiffen against my stomach. He moves and enters me, cums inside almost immediately, and then collapses gently on top, breathing into me as we both slide into exhausted sleep.