Late Summer Project

The wife is finally back at work! So, the garage-side door is open. I am open. Ready. Waiting on my hands and knees in the cellar play area – back in business. He is walking down the stair. I put on the hood. Only in my red jock. My hole clean and pre-lubed. Lube and toys out. The sling up. Gas mask ready. He is at the bottom of the steps. Shane.

“Bob?”

“Yes.”

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

I hear his footsteps. Closer. On with the eyeless hood. Poppers ready. I go just on my knees. I hear him strip. It is a warm June day. It is quick. He steps forward. His cockhead on my lips. He is hard. I open my mouth. Extend my tongue. I run my tongue around his cockhead.

“Yes, Bob. Yes.”

How long since my last man? Late February 2020, just before the COVID lock-down. I am happy I have not gotten COVID. I am happy that I am now vaccinated. I am so happy I can now host again. It used to be as often as three times a week. Men here. Here, at our home. Men to breed me. All bareback. Men to fist me. No gloves. All while I am on the DL. All hot. All sweet. In the year before COVID: I fucked and fisted more than 120 times. As a married man! Nice. Not enough. Thank God for dildos, dildos that have helped me keep my hole loose and ready. Maybe looser now than I was, maybe those fists --- and easier way home.

His cock. My mouth. How many times have I sucked Shane’s cock? Maybe 300 times. Every time is so incredible. To feel its hardness. To feel its strength. To know I am sucking a black cock. A white man sucking a black cock, loving it, knowing that he wants to fuck, give me his seed, flood my cunt with his jism. And I want that. Shane. I love you. I suck his cock. I huff poppers. I am on fire. In lust. I have used some numbing spray to dampen the gag reflex. I want to have his cock as deep down my throat as possible. But what he wants, what I want is him deep in my hole. His cock and then his fist.

Of all then men who have fucked me, I want him the most. If I could, I would live with him. I would be his total sex slave. I would take care of him. Love him. Be his. Shane. Hard body. We have fucked only raw, right from the start. Before him, condoms. But when we met that first time, he wanted bareback. I just went for it. No argument. Today. I want his seed. Maybe you, reading this, have someone like that. You just want this man.

“Too long, Bob. Too long. I am going to so wreck your cunt.”

“Do it.”

“If I told you I was Poz now?”

“Do it.”

“Breed me.”

“Poz?”

“Yes.”

“I will.”

The poppers are taking effect. I can only focus on his cock. On my hands caressing his tight ass. On my lust for him. On my homosexuality. He was the one who unlocked that door – homosexuality. Homo. Fag. Gay. I focus on that fact, those desires. And… and.. and, now, on the possibility of being pozzed. One being pozzed. Am I ready? Yes.

“Please.”

“Please what?” I felt him bend over to start caressing my hole while I worked his cock. I did not want to disengage from his cock. But I did.

“Please give me your poz cock.”

“Finally ready?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Have you ever been tested?”

“No.”

“Well, you have been riding my cock for years…”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Good. When did you test poz?”

“Six months ago.”

“Cool.”

“High load.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. Fuck me. Give your poz jism.”

I said yes. It was good. “Please take my hole and work it so it is ready for your load, deep in my guts.”

“I will, Bob. I will.”

Maybe this will get to go free, go gay, escape. My mind seems clear. But is it just lust.? Repressed desire? Fuck I want cock. Cock. Men. This man. Right now.

“Baby, get on your knees. Take a deep hit of those poppers. Then when you feel the first wave, push out on your hole. I want to see what you have been doing on those big dildos. Your Daddy wants to see his boy’s cunt. Take that hit. Now, take two. Then push.”

I did. Of course.

“More. Push. Push it out. Open it up for your Daddy. Let me she that rosebud bloom for me.”

I did.

“Fuck, Baby. A nice rose for your Daddy. Let me kiss it. Then let’s see how much more we can get it to bloom out. Fuck, I love your pussy, baby. You will be giving it all to your Daddy.”

Shane was on my rosebud like a madman. I could feel hs tongue in me, his stubble beard . He was on fire. I loved this. So long. Too long. He was eating my cunt. It was for him a cunt, wet, flowing, red, pulsing.

“Yes, Daddy, yes.” I took more hits. I wanted to be so fucked up for him.

“Push out for Daddy. Hard. Yes.”

His tongue was back in me. I loved this. And I knew this was the beginning of his loving assault on what he had made into a loose pussy through the more than 100 times he had fisted me pre-COVID.

“Fuck, I love your hole, baby. Get in the sling while Daddy lubes up his fists and arms. Get that popper mask charged for Round One. I am going to fist you good. No stopping until your bright red prolapse flows out of your cunt. This time, no stopping. Over the edge. I want that prolapsed mancunt, baby.”

“Oh, yes, Daddy.”

This was so like the old days. Intense. Intense. Time was always of the essence. I loved this feeling. And I was loving the growing popper frenzy, the hard beating of my heart, the feeling in my hole. I so loved this. You could never get this having sex with a woman. Maybe the woman got it. But I was getting it. I did not have to fake what I was feeling

I richly charged the popper mask. Plenty of wet paper towel in the canister. I hooked it on the hook on the sling chain that would be to my right, so I could get it. I knew Shane would be restraining my feet in the stirrups on the sling. My hands would be free so I could use my arms to grab the leather hand grips so I could use them to increase my ability to drive me ass onto his fist, onto his cock, or reach down to grab my ass and spread it as wide as possible to help in any way I could to open my cunt, or to feel his cock fuck me, or his fist open me. Shit. Too long.

I got in the sling. So damn long.

“Good baby. This has been much too long. You know how much I love your ass, how much your ass loves my cock and fists. Let me prep your hole. Lube it up. It is so ready. Fuck, baby I have to get my cock in you. I can’t stay out of it another moment.”

Shane has a good cock. 7 inches, thick, cut. He knows what to do with it. He has been fucking men since he was 13. From the first time he fucked me, I knew he was a master fucker.

“Man, I am slipping right in. I like that. You have been working on this cunt man, making it a proper man cunt, ready for cock, my cock, ready to be used like a top should use a bottom’s fagcunt. Yes. It feels so good. Damn I have missed this white boy’s ass. Feels Good, Good, Good.

And it did. For him. For me. So good. So good. So right. Stretching me, but so much better at caressing the walls of my ass lips and ass hole. I could feel that kind of electricity that radiated from an ass hole being fucked. I wondered if he could open me enough now so he could put his cock and balls in my hole.

“You are going to become my pussyboi fuck toy. Today I am going to tweak you, get you so fucked up that all you will want finally is to be my mancunt. No more playing at being a fag Bob, you are going to live as a fag, totally focused on what you want – men, cocks, fist, cum… pozzed and methed out at last. No more taking about it. You WILL follow me out of here, out if here, for good. You are just my pig cunt. I want that. I love you. You want that.”

He was fucking me hard, deep…

“You will be mine. And remember those fantasies of being pimped out?”

“Yes.”

“Starting tonight, you will be mine, to whore out.”

“Shit, yes. Take me over, man.” I was already feeling being overcome by my lust, lust unsatisfied for more than the year COVID kept us apart.

“After today’s session you will beg me to take you home with me to live with me, not with the bitch you live with now. You will crawl out to my car, get in…”

“Yes.”

“You will be my pig bottom, my fag, and when I want whored out, used free by my buddies as their fag cunt. My buddies are all like me. Strong, black men, with big cocks, and all – like me. POZ.”

“Start down. Just fuck me, Shane. Take me over.”

In the sling. Hanging there. Shane fucking me, fucking me. Deep. Then pulling out to drill me deep. The sling swinging. He leans down to go deep, to bend over to kiss me, thrusting his tongue in my mouth. The chains clanking. The sounds of our deep breathing. Getting sweaty.

“FUCK ME!”

He paused. Cock in me. Finally, he paused, added poppers to the gas mask mask. He slipped it over my head. Then plunged back deep.

“Breathe, pig. Breathe deep.”

I did. Hit after hit. Waves of lust breaking over me. He kept fucking me. More. More.

“You want my first hot load?”

“Yes, Daddy. Yes. Fuck me. Just fuck me.” Was I feeling his cock head at the opening to my colon? I hope so, I wanted his cum right in my guts. Fuck. How had I gone a year without this cock working me?

“My poz load?”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Your load, your poz load. Cum in me! Breed me.”

Was I shouting? Was I heard? I did not care. I wanted this load…

‘PZO ME, DADDY. POZ ME! POZ ME!”

He stiffened. I knew he was cumming in me. I pushed back as he pushed in. I wanted all of his cum in me. I pulled off the gas mask. My head spinning.

“FUCK! YES!”

Shane was deep in me. The two backed creature - in the sling. Not yielding an inch as his cock pulsed in me. Pushing in me. Deep. Impaled on his cock. So good.

‘Damn, baby, damn.”

He pulled out and came to the head of the sling.

“Take my cock, fag.”

He fed me his cock. The intoxicating tase of cum and ass juices. I took his cock in me. Tasted those last drops of his cum. He worked his fingers in me harvest some of his load, put it in his mouth, then leaned over my now open mouth, the cum falling from his tongue on to mine. We kissed deeply. Tongues busy. I was so hungry for him.

“Fuck. Bob.”

I swallowed my favorite food.

“Bob, just hang there. I have something for you.”

I hung there. My body shaking wet.

I knew what it was. WE had talked about it in the days when we fucked and fisted as often as three time a week – the good old days. He had told me he was giving it to me. Today. Now. I hoped it was what I thought it was. Please!

“Please.” I had to say it. “Please, Shane. Don’t make me wait.”

I did not have long to wait. I looked over and saw what he had brought. It was my date with T.

“I told you this was coming for you one day. I told you it was coming today. The job I have now has no drug testing. So, this is all good and for me.

“Shane. This is so good. So good. How long have I waited for this, and today…”

“A slam for you pig boi. Got to get you started at last. More under my power.”

“Yes.”

“Second thoughts?”

“No.”

“No Second thoughts.”

And with that he started to play with my hole, lubing, spreading it, pulling my swollen ass lips apart. Two fingers. Three fingers. Four fingers, probing, turning caressing. Then his cock. Teasing. Flirting with my hole. Fingers. Taking the lube bottle in one hand. Then, his fingers in my hole twisting. Then lube.

How could I have second thoughts? Not with him working my hole. Not just having been fucked. Not with the opportunity real. Even though it was crazy, insane, addicting, but…

“No second thoughts. Shane. No second thoughts. Your poz load now…”

“Good. A bit of T to start, baby. Let it work.”

He left my hole empty. It felt like it was pulsing for what it wanted.

The bit of alcohol wipe on my arm.

He paused. Prepped the syringe and needle. The tourniquet.

His cock was back in my ass.

“Watch this baby, your last pre-T time with me, pig.”

I watched.

The pinch. Injecr. Some blood withdrawn into the syringe. My blood. Mized with the T. A special cocktail. Injected. The shudder I had been waiting for. The tsunami of lust, desire, strength. I felt so alive.”

“Fuck, man. Take me. No limits! None. FUCK. ME. FIST ME. BREED ME AGAIN!”

My body was on fire. Lust. Lust. He worked my hole. I could feel his fingers swirling in my cunt. He paused for MORE lube. He added some crystals of T.

“I am going to tweak your cunt too. No turning back.”

He caressed my hungry ass lips. Then. He started, his hand clenched, to punch my cunt. I could feel his knuckles, in, out, in.

“I’m saving my whole hand for, well, for just about now.”

I was in lust, on fire, my whole body quivering with desire for this man. In love. Almost shaking. He fixed up the mask. Put it on me.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe. Get in your desire. Get ready. Once I am in you , you are mine. When I am done, your ass is mine – now, forever. You will beg me to take you home with me. Beg to put a leash on you and walk you to my car, and hope with the neighbors across the street watching. Watching me take you, watching you as my sub forever.”

“YES.”

My mind was spinning. T. Poppers. Intense. Restraint gone. Just desire. Deep breathing all the time. So fucked up.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

I breathed. I waited.

“Let Daddy in pig. Let me finally fuck you up.”

I felt so powerful, so reckless, so, so, so in and out of control at the same time.

I could feel his clenched fist on my home. My lips parting. I could feel my hole open. More and more at each push.

“Baby, push out.”

I did.

“More”

I did.

He punched.

My hole just seemed to swallow his fist. I was so full. Overcome with desire from the T and poppers. I put my hands on the chains at my head and began to try to make the sling swing. I wanted to drive my hole over his fist. I felt a surge of strength. I wanted to power fist fuck my cunt. We would do something like that when we would play in my cellar – him on his back on the floor, me impaling my hole on his upthrust forearm. Damn, he loved that. Damn, I loved that.

“Fuck my fist!, Bob. Do it. But don’t stop, fuck my fist until you just collapse your cunt.”

I was on fire. Over and over and over, bringing the sling up and letting it pendulum down.

Shane held his arm steady, braced on his leg. I was out of control, in a new zone of control. I wanted him to take over my cunt. He did.

I was a beast. T. Poppers. My natural lust. My mind saw itself as a huge hole to be filled, filled with cock, fists, cum.

I grunted. Growled. Shouted out, “Fist me.” “I love you.” “Take me.” I did not care who heard or what they heard. My T’dmind told me I wanted people to see what Shane was doing to do, with me, for me.

I had been his fist pig before, that was for sure. I loved his cock. But I loved his fist more.

“Fist me!”

I could feel his fist and forearm go deeper.

“Shit, Bob. I am almost to my elbow. We have not done this!

All I could hear was the sound of our breathing, hard, and the sound of men having hard, intense sex with each other. We broke for a fresh gas mask. We resumed.

We were so focused on this. Thank God!

I did not hear the screen door open. I did not hear, “Hi, honey, you’re in the cellar? I did not hear the footsteps on the stairs. Neither did Shane.

But I did hear the loud gasp. It was no Shane.

And I did hear. “HONEY!”

And I did feel my ass bottom out – he was up to his elbow. Right where I wanted to be.