A Marine Makes the Most Of A Solo Trip To Tampa

The Marine Uber Driver is of ASSistance

From Part 1:

The Uber driver was a Marine, and we started that line of discussion before he'd even moved the shiny, new looking American pickup he picked me up in. And before we'd gone two blocks, it was apparent from some wild flirting that former Private Reynoso was another candidate to abate the doldrums of my stay in Tampa. I had a couple of hours before I could get Jimmy on FaceTime after the son unit was asleep, and I had at least one detail to attend to.

I was sitting on my bath towel I hadn't used at the gym to keep from soiling his immaculate seats with my sweat. "So . . . Private, you offered ANY help you could be?"

We were stopping for a red light, and when we had, he turned to me with a big smile that was clearly an invitation. "Sure thing, sir! ANYthing you want." He emphasized the first two syllables in the word, as he had when he made the offer the first time, a few blocks earlier in the surprisingly slow Tampa traffic.

"Stop at a Walgreens or CVS or somewhere like that you have here, go in for me so I don't scare the locals," I paused to pull my sweatsoaked muscleshirt from my chest before continuing, "And buy me some of the biggest condoms they have."

"The biggest, huh?" he smirked briefly, before turning his eyes back to the road after the light went green.

"Biggest," I assured him. "And when you do, take a couple out and keep them . . . in case I call you before I leave. For ANYthing," I mocked, adjusting myself for emphasis . . . not entirely without necessity.

It was the day after my husband Jim and I, at the time separated by several states due to an unexpected business trip I had to take, had enjoyed the local treat of a horny gym bitch who’d hit on me when I’d gone to use a guest pass. I was horny as all fuck a day without ass. My HARD, after work workout was getting all my work stresses out from a day full of them, but it was also stoking my endorphins. The bountiful Tampa eye candy at the gym wasn’t helping my horniness any.

I was close to the end of my workout, and I had some choices to make. My cock, which was taking all my concentration to keep under control in my workout shorts, said there was absolutely no choice of what I was going to do, just a question of whom I was going to do. There were two hot gymrats in particular who’d been pretty open about their interest in me, but it was pretty clear they were a duo, and that wasn’t what I was interested in. Between sets of 270lb squats – gotta keep the ass appealing, even if it isn’t on offer – I was pacing a little, panting, sweating like a pig . . . and trying to decide what to do . . . when Jimmy texted.

Jim: Finished with the workout? Going through CrossFit withdrawals?

It was one of my – our – regular CrossFit nights, Thursday, and I was too horny from absence of the best piece of ass on the planet – my husband – and too frustrated by the work to focus much on having missed it. But dammit, that was, in fact, another thing!

I quickly thumbed out a reply on my way back to the weight cage.

Me: not quite and YEAH, DAMMIT, I need more than this workout after today

I went at the last set with a vengeance, so much so that the gymrat duo gave me a combination thumbs up and synchronized come hither leer when I’d reracked the barbell and taken a moment to stretch my back out. I looked down at my AppleWatch to see the text Jimmy had sent while I was pumping out that set.

Jim: Sounds like you need to call in the “reserves.”

The “reserve” to which my husband referred was unmistakable. The evening before, on my way from the gym, I’d been driven by an Uber driver who was not only interested, but also a Marine, like me. Well, not LIKE me per se – about twenty years younger, enlisted, “very single” based on his self-proclamation in the Reserves.

Me: food for thought

Jim (within barely a few seconds of my last to him): Life is a banquet my love.

Me: indeed

Which basically meant he right – he knew it, and I knew it. He almost always is. And he knew that I knew it. He also knew that I had every intention of finding some ass. Auntie Mame’s famous quote had me ravenous and intending to solve it with a banquet.

I pulled up my shirt and wiped enough sweat off my face and neck to soak the lower half of my shirt. It was already quite wet with what it had soaked up from my sweaty torso and a few prior wipes, but it was sopping, close to dripping. My admirers both lasciviously adjusted their crotches as they watched me, I noticed, as I got my phone and water bottle from where I’d left them at the far side of the cage. I gave them a salute with the bottle as I headed to the lockers to collect my street clothes.

To be completely candid, if the gym duo had followed me and pushed, I would have taken the two of them on and probably have worn them bouth out. Birds in hand, and the like. And my hands were both aching to grab some willing – or unwilling – bitch and force him down until his nose was jammed into my crotch and my cock was halfway down his gullet. Okay, I thought to myself. I’d better change THAT line of thinking RIGHT NOW! I still had to get out of the gym without being arrested for assault or, at minimum, indecent exposure from a hardon my silkies couldn’t possibly conceal.

As I walked I found my Uber app and went to the YOUR TRIPS function. I found the right area and entered my phone number to contact the driver of my ride the previous night about a supposed lost item. It rankled me that I had to lie, however tiny and white the lie was – it just isn’t me, isn’t a Marine. The automated callback came a moment later, and my determined cock worked that thought right out of my mind and suggested I focus on the evening I was planning to have. I was quickly connected to Private Christopher Desmond.

“Call me back directly!” I told Desmond rather abruptly. I rattled off my cell number, and he echoed it back just as quickly.

“SIR, YES SIR!” he snapped, as if we were both still in the Corps.

When I answered the callback, he said, continuing the formality, “As ordered, SIR!”

“Private, is your offer still open?”

“Sir, yes it is, SIR!” he snapped smartly. And then he went off script. “I have what you told me to keep. Right here – in my pocket. I’ve been hoping you would give ME a . . . ride.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “My hotel – where you dropped me last night – in thirty minutes, prepped and ready? That will give me time to get back there from the gym and showered up.”

“Of course, sir. With pleasure, sir. And sir?” I didn’t answer when he paused, as I’d just entered the locker room. Desmond finally continued. “I wouldn’t mind at all if you didn’t shower, sir. Just sayin’.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, softly because of the surrounds, mocking him, but also growling because he’d revved my already warmed engines.

“Twenty-one fifty-five at the Grand Hyatt, SIR!” he confirmed.

I ended the call without saying more than my room number, grabbed my gym bag, stuffed it with my work clothes and again went back to the Uber app, walking determinedly out of the lockers and through the gym floor. Handy, summoning a ride just like that – what did we do before that disruptive innovation?

Back in my hotel suite, fifteen minutes later than I’d expected because of the annoyingly unpredictable Tampa traffic, I stripped down to my stinking, still sweat-soaked jock strap and FaceTimed my husband. When Desmond rang the suite’s doorbell, I propped the phone on the table pointing down the hall toward the door. I’d used that angle successfully with the gym bitch the night before. I checked the screen, blew Jimmy a kiss and went to admit our bitch for the night.

When I opened the door, the sight of him was better than what I saw of him in the car the night before. Nearly as tall as I, well-built, obviously the gym slut from the night before had nothing on Private Desmond. He still kept his light red hair cut in a high and tight, and the same thick, red/blond fur I’d seen on his arms more than peeked out of the tight fitting black v-neck t-shirt that accentuated his dramatically v-shaped torso. His deep green eyes – so much more emerald than mine – flashed with fire, as I’d seen a hint of the night before in the car. Strong quads and calves were evident in his well worn jeans, and the veiny, furry tops of his big, wide feet, as revealed by the flipflops he wore, matched his big, veiny hands. Both his fingernails and toenails were impeccable, as befitting a Marine. All of him befitted a Corpsman.

“Permission to enter, sir?” I doubt he noticed he had snapped me out of my intense appraisal of him.

I couldn’t have found fault with his style if we were both still on duty in our unis. Only his smirk would have been out of place. “Granted,” I told him. As he passed into the hall by me, his scent was stronger than what I’d smelled the night before – manlier, but with a hint of soap still present. It didn’t escape my notice that his ass, as framed by his well worn Levis, was even more promising than I had anticipated. “And if you don’t mind, Private, let’s dispense with the formalities – I’ve had too long and annoying a day for anything other than enjoyment of the OBVIOUS . . . service you will afford.”

He’d stopped almost opposite me inside the little hall, and when I stepped aside to let the suite’s door close, my arm brushed his hard chest pleasingly through his t-shirt. “One of us is overdressed,” he smirked, looking me up and down. “I’ll be happy to even things up, but I didn’t want to without permission, though it might have been interesting had I still been in the hall.”

“This is a hall,” I said dumbly as the door clicked shut, and Jimmy laughed from the phone, startling my guest as he had already started and had his arms out of his t-shirt and had it up around his neck, ready to pull over his head. His abs were stunning under a coat of honey colored, uncropped fur, and his pecs were deliciously slab-like.

“I see we have company?” he said, immediately homing in on my phone and the screen, lit with my husband’s image. “May I meet our third player?” He walked toward the phone with a smirk.

I made it a point to fully brush against his bare torso, feeling his heat and hardness, and all the contours I would enjoy more of soon enough. His quick gasp told me he enjoyed it as well. “Don’t interrupt your task there,” I told him, giving the waistband of his jeans a flick so that the top button popped open. His corded groin inside the slack waist of those jeans shivered enticingly, and I felt my nuts buzzing already.

Having picked up the phone off the table, I took a step back and inhaled the free waft of his tantalizing scent as his jeans were shucked. Desmond had both his shirt and jeans in his hand, standing completely naked and obviously awaiting my instruction as to where he could deposit his clothing. “Private Christopher Desmond, meet my husband, His Honor, Captain James Ellis. Army. Rangers. Now a Federal Judge,” I completed as I held the phone for my soon to be bitch to get a good view of my husband.

“Pleased to have you with us, Private. I am Jim – the rest is of no interest to what we have afoot here tonight,” Jimmy told him in an authoritative way.

The bitch looked from his image to me and back to the camera. “Yes, SIR,” he agreed enthusiastically. “Two DAMN hot men! If you don’t mind me saying so, I wouldn’t mind taking you both on sometime.” Then, more directly into the FaceTime session, “I’m Des, or Desi if you really don’t mind, and obviously I’m pleased to meet you.” With that he looked down at his stiffening cock and then up with a sheepish grin for both of us.

“You look like a FINE specimen yourself, young Desi,” Jim told him, and I swear the bitch’s cock twitched.

“Thank you, sir! A compliment from a fine man like you is always welcome, sir.” It wasn’t the “sir” of command acknowledgement – it was the sir of respect and/or appreciation, maybe with a hint of daddy thrown in.

“Should I leave, so you two can have the room?” I asked.

“NO WAY!” our obviously willing bitch cried. With two easy but long steps he was against me, our bodies touching but not using his hands, and he easily looked into my eyes. “I WILL make it up to you, sir,” he said in a deep growl. “ANY way you want me to,” he added, continuing to hold my gaze.

“That’s a nice piece of equipment on you, Desi,” Jimmy called from the phone, which I’d let fall as my arm slackened.

We both chuckled, seeing that Jim had been getting a closeup of the guy’s junk. Said junk, by the way, was VERY well suited to his size and frame – long, about 8; thick; uncut, with a thick foreskin that allowed his fat knob to peek out of; nice nuts, larger than average but not huge, and hanging very nicely; and all surrounded by redder fur than the honey blond which carpeted his cut groin and chiseled abs.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, throwing off a bit of a blush that looked good on him. “You both are,” he paused as he looked down at my half hard cock and then up into the phone’s screen again, “Uh, VERY well matched, is all the words I can find.” The absence of cockeyness, which his smirk and words had thrown off before, made him even more appealing.

“Jim,” Jimmy said into the phone.

“And Cate – or Bill,” I told him as well.

“And I suppose ‘daddy’ would be—“

“Another scene for another time, likely for other guys,” I quickly headed him off on that one.

Desi gave a laugh at that – a deep, manly chuckle, full of mirth and appreciation for the extent of what I’d just told him. “Can’t blame a man for trying,” he smiled.

"Points for not saying ‘a boy’,” I told him.

“I may enjoy daddies, but I’m NO boy, sir—I mean, Cate. Not for a damn long time,” he added unnecessarily.

“Now that we have that settled,” Jim interjected, obviously impatient.

“If I may say so, I’d like to get to the main event myself,” my eager bitch added, dropping to his knees and burying his face in my crotch. “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM,” he loosed a long, low moan, huffing in deep and rubbing his face in my distended pouch. “This is some good mansmell right here!”

“And that’s one lucky bitch,” Jim chimed in from my phone, which I was having trouble holding in the right position for him to maintain his view.

Desi planted his hands with firm grips on both my buttcheeks, and he continued to rub his face against my stinking jockstrap, pushing my heavy, sweaty nuts and hardening cock all over and continuing his moans of enjoyment. Despite his hold on my ass, the force of his aggressive head frotting against my crotch had me struggling to maintain balance. I used my free hand and clamped it on the bitch’s head and tried to steady my balance with my left hand holding the phone out and away but still maintaining Jimmy’s vantage point.

“MMMMMMPPPPHHHHHHHHH!” he huffed and added, muffled by my bulging pouch, “Man do you smell good, sir! May I taste?”

“Start with his balls,” Jimmy answered for me. I didn’t mind his choice, and neither of us corrected him on the “sir”.

“Let’s take this inside,” I suggested practically, after a couple of minutes of the bitch continuing to rub my pouch and protruding cockhead. I gave his stubbly chin a rub with my hand to pull him away as I stepped back.

I offered my arm down to him, and he clamped his hand on my forearm, I grasped his, and he bounded up and faced me grinning. He was close enough for me to smell myself on his face over his own appealing scent.

He stared me in the eye, holding his position as I did mine. He was strong and stood proud, as did – do – I. We were two males without urgency to take the next step, savoring the sight of one another and prospect of what was to come. My cock disagreed on the urgency.

Then, without looking down, he gently brushed the back of his hand slowly over the three or four inches of my hardon that was sticking out the waistband of my jockstrap. It took no effort to show my enjoyment of his touch, and he made no effort to break contact, the small brushes continuing and challenging my restraint.

His exactly targeted touch confirmed an impression I had of him that his training in the Corps might be similar to my own. I’d picked up on it the night before in the cab – takes one to know one, and all that – and then again in his posture and movements once he’d arrived at my hotel room. I considered broaching the subject – wanted to, maybe nearly as much as I wanted to get on with what we’d planned, but definitely not quite as much. Instead I said, “You’re not here to give me a handjob,” and turned and walked purposefully to the bedroom. The bitch followed.

As we passed into the bedroom, a wide full length mirror on the opposite wall gave me a good view of Desi behind me, his hard cock bobbing in front of him, well muscled quads and arms pumping and lean muscles rippling appealingly. I also noticed that the impudent bitch’s eyes were on my ass in front of him, an appreciative smile on his face.

“Like it?” I asked over my shoulder, and I saw his head jerk up and meet my eyes in the mirror. Maybe he didn’t have QUITE the training I do, being so obvious or caught at it. He didn’t answer, just grinned. “Good,” I added. “Because you’ll be sucking the sweat out of my shithole soon enough.”

In response, the dirty bitch grinned wider into the mirror and gave his lips a long lick with a formidable looking tongue. Mmmmmmmm, I thought to myself.

As usual, Jimmy was in my head. “Make sure he uses that liberally on your sweaty bull ballsac, babe!” Oh, I so intended to.

I propped the phone on a decorative carved box on the dresser, leaning against the mirror, so that it was at an angle that afforded a good view of the room and, particularly, the big bed. “I will,” I answered into the phone screen, and puckered my lips and air kissed my husband.

“Not for nothing, but you have an amazing ass, sir,” my admiring bitch said behind me.

Oh, what the fuck?! I thought. “Enough yap, private,” I told him.

“Sir, I—“

“HERE! NOW!” I barked, and I pointed to the floor in behind me, careful to angle myself so that Jimmy could have a good view.

The big bitch was on his knees behind me before the reverberations of my command were quieted, his wrists together behind his back and his eyes were down, appropriately. “Good boy . . . once out of twice, anyway,” Jim observed from the phone.

“Sir, permission to speak, sir?” the bitch’s voice was not demanding, but strong.

“That’s—“ Jim started, but I put up my hand to the phone’s camera, outside Desi’s sight, so as not to impugn my husband’s joint authority in our little scene.

“Something you should be very careful about, bitch, using that tongue for less worthy pursuits . . . like talking,” I told him. Then, “Granted.”

“Sir, my enthusiasm exceeded my boundary. It won’t happen again, sir. Sir, I can be very compliant, SIR!” All of it was delivered slowly and earnestly in his deep voice, head still down, but easily audible, the last emphatic.

Jim didn’t interject at that point, just waited for me. After making both of them wait, I slowly moved my feet much wider apart and bent over, comfortably grabbing my ankles. Through my legs I faced the bitch. “Eyes UP!” I commanded, and he caught my eyes and hanging balls before him. He held my gaze. Good boy, I thought to myself. “We’re going to do a few things here.” I paused.

“Sir, yes, sir!” he affirmed on cue.

“Good boy,” Jim intoned in an aroused growl. I wished he was here to share this one in person.

“First, Desi, you’re going to make that flapping tongue of yours useful and eat my shithole until I’ve satisfied myself that you and that mouth of yours are worth the trouble.”

“SIR, YES SIR!” he enthused . . . and dove in, using both hands to spread my buttcheeks. The force of his assault threatened to make me topple, but his grip on my ass was firm enough to counter the momentum. He sniffed so long and so deep that I could feel the air being sucked over my pucker and fur, and his long “Mmmmmmmm OH YEAH!” before he dove in with his tongue, right on target was all like an electrical jolt to my nuts.

The bitch had enough stubble on his chin to tantalize the back of my low hanging sac in all the right ways, and I felt my cock hardening more. His tongue was halfway up my shitchute, and I had to force myself back to focus. “Second, to repeat myself, let’s dispense with the formality. I’m in the mood for a casual night of enjoyment, not a Dom/sub scene, and both of us have been off duty for a while now.”

“MMMRRRGGGGMMMRRRMMMMMMMMMMM,” came from my crack, which Desi was doing his best to crawl up inside tongue first.

I lifted my head and craned it enough to look up at the phone and see Jimmy grinning and slowly stroking his formidable cock. I could see my magnificent husband from head to his shins, the way he’d positioned his iPhone, and that alone stoked my horniness – the sight of my stud husband made me feel a dollop of precum emerge and fall from my throbbing cock.

Jimmy obviously saw it. “Damn, that studcock nectar of yours should not go to waste!”

With no more than a break in his efforts like he was taking a big breath, Desi apparently looked down and swiped up the glob of my precum with his big, wetted fingers, and I heard him slurp loudly and moan. “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM,” before his tongue was spearing into my tight shithole again.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm,” I moaned involuntarily myself.

“That’s it!” Jimmy encouraged from his vantage point.

The eager bitch was pulling my cheeks apart so roughly I suspected I’d have bruises. Not that I minded – his energized tongue got in a little deeper as he did, frenetically flicking and threatening to cause more of my precum to be spilt. His stubbly chin also continued to tease my nutbag in a way that was getting me revving beyond where I’d intended to be by this point.

“I need to piss,” I announced, uprighting myself so fast that it nearly knocked Desi off balance as I forcebly disengaged him from his effort. He moaned plaintively, but he didn’t release my buttcheeks from his grasp. “Are you up for some hydration, Pri– er, I mean, Desi?” I almost forgot we’d dispensed with formatlities, so worked up was I at that point.

“Sir, uh, I’ve never—“

“Yes or no?” I growled. “I need to get this over with and get back to the action.” I’d drank what seemed like gallons of water while I was working out, and it was catching up with me due to the stimulation . . . back there. It happens . . .

“Yes, sir, I am,” he answered, remaining in place. And he added, “And I was going to say, I’ve never spilled a drop, so you can put that huge thing in my mouth right here, and have no worry.” He was grinning with a very nasty invitation in his eyes as he said it, and as if to emphasize his point, he opened his big mouth WIDE.

When I took longer than the bitch could wait, deciding whether to risk piss soaking the living room of an unnecessarily expensive hotel suite, Desi moved on his knees and first grabbed then engulfed a good deal of my cock in his mouth.

“Initiative!” Jimmy teased from the phone.

My human urinal looked up at me expectantly, ready. I planted my hands on his head, and I let it rip.

“MMMMMRRRRMMMMMMM,” Desi moaned as he gulped.

I didn’t hold back, and I pissed like a racehorse. The bitch struggled a little, but then he gulped louder and faster, his hands having come again to my ass, clutching my buttcheeks. When my stream finished, Desi transformed from urinal to cocksucker. And boy did he go at it, with all the gusto with which he’d pigged out on my piss.

It was quickly apparent that Private Desmond was not particularly skilled with cocks as big as mine. He was making a valiant attempt to get more of my cock into his mouth. He was like a starving man, ravenous and ravaging my cock as if it was his last meal.

He was doing his level best to get my fat cock into his throat. I held tight onto his head because his assault was forceful enough to challenge my footing. “Mmmmmrrrrppphhhhhggggggggggggg,” he half moaned, half growled.

It should have been fairly easy, even with my size, because the piss had taken a good bit of my hardness away. But his mouth had gotten me back to full mast quickly, too, and I had to take matters into hand, as the saying goes. I took hold of his head at his neck and massaged it at the same time as I stopped his manic effort to chow down by holding his head steady. “RELAX and let me help you,” I told him.

“Des, just concentrate on swallowing and listen to him. He’s a good teacher!” Jimmy encouraged. He should know – our first afternoon together, with my prompting, he’d throated me . . . and never needed help again.

Desi made a quick nod gesture however slight, which was all he was able while not disengaging. And I began tilting his head forward and pushing harder and finally said, “NOW SWALLOW!” sharply enough for a good Marine not to have time to think before just doing what he was told. And just like that my swollen knob passed the barrier and was IN his throat.

The bitch was clearly thrilled . . . for a moment or two . . . then went all in and pushed himself forward, and I felt my cockknob passing in his throat with my hand from the outside and knew he was struggling to keep his jaw open enough to accommodate my fat fuckrod. Then . . . the familiar sounds and writhing started, and I knew that he’d started to panic. And the effort it would take to pull a tennis ball sized cockknob out of a throat isn’t conducive to panic.

“STOP! RELAX!” I barked in short order. I followed that with, “I’ll pull it out . . . but only for a moment, because you’ve got to learn how to throat a real man’s big cock to satisfy me.”

He complied, and I was able, with a minimum of force, to pull myself free and fully out of his mouth. I did the latter for two reasons – first because his jaw needed a break, and second because he needed the practice to go from zero to sixty, as it were. The second I was out, he cried out, coughing and sputtering, “I want it!” and lunged forward, following my retreat as drool and snot cascaded off my freed fuckshaft and cockhead and out of his mouth and nose.

“He’s a true bitch, Billy,” Jimmy chuckled.

“And a true Marine,” I praised the young cocksucker. “He doesn’t let a challenge defeat him.”

“LET ME GO AT IT AGAIN!” Desi nearly begged, and I did – he did, actually. And that time it was considerably less challenging, though his jaw was clearly taxed.

At that point, what I really wanted to do was to fuck his cunt, something that wouldn’t wear out and didn’t have teeth to scrape along my length as he got more fatigued. But I had to teach him so that he could throat the next horsehung top he wanted to – or who made him. Responsibility . . .

So we continued until getting into his throat was almost easy, and he was able to use his tongue and throat muscles around me. The rest of the technique he’d have to gain on his own, because after about ten minutes my cock was demanding his ass. The silver lining was that his poor technique had considerably arrested my excitement.

I pulled out with a forceful, quick move, and he wiped his face again and took some deep breaths. “Did I do better or worse than Jim the first time he was introduced to that telephone post you have there between your legs?” he asked impudently, with a smirk to prove it.

Jimmy thought that was hysterical, so I refrained from smacking the bitch for his insolence in. “I don’t think it’s time to focus on your shortcomings,” I said, a bit more nastily than I’d intended.

Duly chastened, Desi’s voice went softer, and his eyes left mine to go down to the floor. In almost a murmur, he said, “Thank you sir for the instruction. I will work on my skills and make you proud.” A good Marine.

“Right now let’s see how you take a fuck,” I told him, snatching up the phone and heading into the bedroom.

“This is gonna hurt SO good,” the bitch nearly chanted as he bounded in behind me and FLUNG himself onto the big bed and had himself on his back, his ankles in his grip and back far in the air. “I’m ready!” he urged impatiently.

“Well, no, you’re not, Private,” I countered, more chiding than challenging. When he craned his head to get a more direct view toward me, clearly quizzical, I told him, “You brought something you purchased for me last night?”

“OH, FU— er, CRAP!” he swore, and he bounded up off the bed and back out of the bedroom. He was back in a flash with a strip of the foiled condoms he’d gone into the store to pick up for me the night before. “Sorry, sir,” he said sheepishly, handing them to me and again bouncing energetically and resuming his ready position on the bed.

I’d used the time to set up the phone’s camera to give a better view of the bed, and Jimmy laughed. “He’s certainly eager, Billy. And he DID say he wanted it to hurt,” which was a challenge for me to possibly not use any lube other than what was on the condom.

“Oh, I—“ my bitch stuttered, as the realization set in, his eyes wide on my horsecock.

“Easy, boy,” I told him, and he looked up at me with a look I can only call innocent. “You’re gonna love it.”

The smirk came back in an instant. “Oh, I KNOW I AM, sir! And sir, I’m clean – completely. In case you don’t want that fine piece of manmeat strangled inside the condom.”

“And you’re assuming that I am? Or that I’d believe you?”

His face fell at the first and then went defiant on the second. “On my honor, sir,” he said, with his chin out.

“Billy, stop it and fuck the bitch.” Jimmy didn’t say it forcefully, but when my husband asserts himself it’s as clear what the course of action is as when a General makes a suggestion. I refrained from saluting him.

“I am, by the way. WE are,” I told the bitch, whose defiance had been bolstered by Jimmy’s order.

I approached the bed, and I chucked the condoms behind me onto the dresser as I did. “Hell yeah!” Desi murmured. I deftly grabbed a bottle of lube out I’d placed earlier in the side table but climbed up onto the bed and between his spread thighs and dove right into his luscious cunt with my tongue.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” he cried out, as my tongue spread him and went fully inside him without delay.

I can’t say he was tight – he wasn’t unused to fat cocks, in fact, though he felt quite snug around my probing tongue. But he did have good muscle control, and while I ate him I felt his cuntring and inner cuntwalls work my tongue in appreciation. And his moans became louder and louder as I ate that inviting pussy of his until my cock was screaming at me to JUST FUCK HIM.

Desi’s stream of appreciative exclamations went to a plaintiff cry as I stopped to grab the lube. “He’s VERY eager, Billy!” Jimmy called, and I snuck a glance over and saw him stroking himself a bit more determinedly than before.

“Eager is an understatement!” the bitch elaborated, his neck stretched so he could see every move I was making while still holding firmly to his skyward pointed ankles.

I went in with two fingers – I’d eaten his cunthole until I knew I could with moderate difficulty and only the discomfort of surprise. “SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS,” he hissed, and then his cunt was spasming around my two biggest fingers as I worked them in and out and around inside him. When I first brushed his p-spot, he gasped, the hiss inward instead of outward. “FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!” When I added a third finger, he hissed and growled, but he also worked his hips so that he was fucking himself on my fingers as I was working his fuckhole, so I knew whatever discomfort he was having wasn’t greater than his anticipation. When I had four fingers wedged in him, he was panting and cursing and hissing and sucking breaths. And just to make sure I scissored my two bigger fingers and knocked his prostate in the process, and he nearly flew into the air in an epic spasm. “OHGODPLEASEFUCKME!” he spit out.

“Billy, NOW!” Jimmy ordered from the phone, and this time there was nothing gentle about his order.

The position was not the best for a first time with a cock as big as mine, but he wanted it, clearly – he’d pulled his knees back to his pecs and had angled his cunt up more. I lined myself up and teased his slimy, gaping hole, my engorged cockknob dwarfing the opening. I pushed against him, and he gasped and swore . . . but he held his position and clenched his teeth. “DO IT! PLEEEEEEEASE!” he cried. So I did, pushing so hard I thought my cock might bend in half, but finally PLOPPING in, to a loud “UUUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!” from him, followed by loud, heavy, fast panting. “OH JESUS!” he finally coughed.

“Too much for you?” I asked, holding position more than three quarters of the way into him.

“HELL NO!” he said. “I’ve just never been this full bef—“

There are times I enjoy the verbalisms, and there are times it’s blah blah blah to me. And most of the time it’s blah blah blah to my cock if it’s keeping me from using it to its desired purpose – cuntpounding. So I pushed in the rest of the way, which cut anything intelligible from my bitch off in mid-syllable, and then I pulled out until I was again stretching his cuntring with my flared knob, before PLUNGING into him balls-deep, mercilessly. “OHMYFUCKNGODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD,” he cried.

“He IS your god!” Jimmy called, a bit over the top, as the bitch thrashed his head side to side.

“I’ve never—“ Desi gasped amid pants and cries.

I used the same tactic again to stop that, this time beginning a steady, hard rhythm of pounding him, long dicking that hot, wet cunt – and he was getting VERY wet, far more than the lube – and causing his exclamations and cries to become more streams of disconnected words than intelligible. And when I knocked his prostate head-on – my cockhead directly onto his pleasure knob – his cry was loud enough to possibly bring hotel security I thought.

To avoid a scene from the outside, I wrestled a pillow while I maintained my pistoning of his cunt and thrust it to where the edge was to his mouth. I hadn’t shoved it completely over his face, though that would have been fun. He got the message and began biting the pillow, with his cries becoming more muffled “mmmmmmmmmmggggggggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm” than eardrum shattering.

We’d stunk up the room fairly quickly – the wonderful stink of sex among men. And the sight of his muscles jolting with my thrusts was equally appealing and arousing.

His cock was rock hard, and he was dripping precum, and he was reacting to every assault on his inner knob. I worked my position to where my shaft was rubbing HARD against that pleasure button as it went in and out, and he convulsed every time my flared head knocked it on the way out and hit it direct on with the return thrust. And then – minutes in – his body stiffened, his eyes went WIDE, and he started cumming in full body spasms and an absolute torrent of cumspray.

He was as unprepared for it as I was. He let his angles loose and slammed his hands down on the bed, clutching at the bedcover wildly. His heels KNOCKED down onto my shoulders. And his stream of cum splattered his face, neck and torso as I continued to pound him. Had I not been thinking about other things, I might have deduced that the pillow he was chewing was probably bitten clean through.

What I was thinking about was the way his cuntchute had gone tighter and was spasming so incredibly around my cock that I was beginning to think I might cum right then. It had been only a short time – for me – and I wasn’t “feeling it” as the youngsters say . . . until those cuntmuscles went to work milking my fuckpole.

“You’re gonna take my fuckn seed, bitchboy. But you’re gonna have to work for it,” I snarled down at him, barely finished with his cumblasts.

“I fuckn WANT IT!” he snarled back up at me. And with that he knocked the pillow to the side, braced both his strong hands on my straining forearms, and he went to town fucking me back. “I want your fuckn seed, daddy!” he growled up at me, and Jimmy gasped at the use of the dreaded “d word”.

But I didn’t take note of the offense. “Work for it. Milk it out of me if you want it,” I taunted him.

And we went at it like that. Me fucking his lights out and him milking my cock with muscles he clearly knew how to use, fucking back into my thrusts with increasing intensity. Our sweat ran, his face was red from exertion, and I suspected mine was the same – but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His reactions to my thrusts were not something he could control, but his grit and determination showed as well. And as his body heaved and convulsed and then went taut with his exertions, I enjoyed it all ALMOST as much as I enjoyed his searing hot cuntsleeve massaging my fuckrod.

I had no consciousness of how long it went. Of how many exclamations of pleasure and taunts we exchanged. Of how many times Jimmy urged us on. I just know at some point my cock and balls – and lower back, which had had almost enough of the intense exertion – took control and directed me to thrash his p-spot again until he was wailing in buildup and finally broke in a second wild, thrashing climax that pulled me over with it.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” I cried as I crested the edge and began to tumble.

“FUCK YEAH – fuckn seed me!” he demanded in a vicious growl, as I was starting to explode. “Fuckn make me pregnant. SHOOT THAT FUCKN STUD SEED!”

I was too far gone to care about the absurdity of his words, and he was cumming himself as I began blasting my nutload. “OHFUCK OHFUCK I FUCKN FEEL IT!” he cried out. Somewhere deep inside me I felt proud of that . . . until I lost any ability to think or control my body, and it all went to the release.

It went on, it passed and I returned to awareness, feeling my still hard cock inside his slack body, enveloped in my own goop and our heat. Below me he panted, and sweat covered him, as it no doubt did me. And as if orchestrated, two drops of my sweat plopped down onto him with loud SPLAT sounds, causing him to moan contentedly. “GOD you totally fucked me!”

“He didn’t, I did,” I joked breathlessly. “This is gonna hurt,” I added, executing a quick dismount before he could think about it.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!” he cried, confirming.

I flopped onto my back, my cock waving directly upward still. It would get over it. And I worked my breathing back to normal quickly as we both lay there catching our breath and returning to ourselves. I, for one, was indulging my senses in his sounds and in the overwhelming scent of our sweat and cum wafting in the room.

“That was incredible. I’ve never been that full or that well fucked ever!” he said earnestly, still panting hard.

I somehow believed there was an admission in there – that he’d probably been fucked a lot. It was no revelation – it was obvious from the first entry of my tongue inside him. I couldn’t have cared other than for the appreciation that once he got used to my fuckpole impaling him, he knew how to work it. And work it he had. “Sure did it for me!” I replied.

“I’ve not had the cum fucked out of me many times at all, but you did it easily . . . and TWICE!” he enthused.

“And I get that EVERY DAY.”

The voice was Jim’s, and we both turned to the phone. “Get my phone for me,” I ordered without thinking. And the good bitch did as he was told without hesitation. He almost reverently handed it to me, back at the bed.

Desi stood by the bed and waited for an invitation, clearly wanting to get back on and lay by me some more. I didn’t give him an indication one way or another. Instead, I said, “There are no paddles with one through ten on them . . . but I think it’s safe to say the Judges rule that at least a nine,” I told him as I gazed at Jimmy’s cum covered fur in the screen. I knew I spoke for both of us.

Jimmy chuckled. “At nine at least – accurate.”

Then Desi dove down onto the bed until he landed on his elbows and his face eye level with my still hard cock. “I’d say definitely ten.”

“Not quite, unless you round to the nearest inch,” Jim corrected him, seeing where he was looking because I was holding the phone out. “But he’s magnificent, isn’t he?”

Desi almost reverently reached out and stroked me – one long stroke up and down. He didn’t let go and did it again. “Careful, that thing is still loaded,” I joked . . . using the truth.

“If you want—“ he started, but I cut him off.

“It’ll be taken care of in due course. Jimmy and I will have some time to ourselves after you’re on your way. You can use the shower if you want.”

I’ll credit him with not letting any disappointment show. Instead, he gave my cockhead a LONG kiss and then kissed each of my big nuts before looking up at me. “I’d kiss you, too, if you’d let me.”

“We’re Marines, Private. We don’t kiss.”

“I would, though. But I guess I’ll just tell you that I won’t forget this for a long, long time. Thank you, Bill.” It was heartfelt, and using my name caused my cock to twitch. “And thank you, Jim, for sharing your marvelous husband with me,” he said, addressing Jim’s image on the phone screen. “You’re lucky men. I could only hope,” he said wistfully.

And then he got up, went out, and I watched him dress at the edge of the living room. The thought of him leaving, walking out and going wherever, with my cum inside him and our stink wafting around him, it all made me horny for some intimacy with my husband.

When he was finished dressing, Desi looked back in, and he came back, saying “FUCK IT!” as he did. He bent over the side of the bed I was closest to and quickly kissed me on the lips and got his arms around me in a hug. “Thank you,” he said before he released me and walked out, not stopping before I heard the suite’s door open and close.

Jim said, “That was as hot as watching you fuck him.”

“Well, not quite,” I gently corrected him. “Can’t wait to be home tomorrow, babe,” I added.

“Oh? Have anything planned?” I asked with a nasty grin, stroking his cum sticky cock again.

Boy, did I! And then I gave him a preview.

Boys, as always I ask that you show Bjorn due gratitude and support Gay Demon for giving us this forum to share our experiences and imaginations, and to enjoy each other.