I have a memory of a memory. I'm a young boy, I don’t know, maybe eleven years old, and I'm lying in my bed in the darkness. I feel a tightness in my chest, and eventually I sense a dark, formless figure. It is sitting on me. It is heavy like a dog, and it terrifies me. I can’t move. I can’t even lift my arm. I want to cry out to my mommy from down the hall. But all I can do struggle to fill my lungs with air, while staring, petrified, into the shifting features of the horrific, shadowy beast. I do not know how I make it through the night. When I awake, my pyjamas are soaked, and the thing has fled.

The night terror never returned to me, but it had buried itself in my mind. As I grew older, I began to remember more. What was that, lying against my tummy? Was it the fuzz of a scrotum? Maybe it wanted something, but I was too afraid, and too young to recognize its erection. As a teenager, I would lie under my blanket, hand moving inside my white briefs, thinking of it. I even tried to conjure it, promising that I would do whatever depraved thing it wanted. But soon, somehow, my mind turned to girls, and the demon was forgotten.

I am well into my thirties, and I have not thought of it in years. But tonight something transpired that dredged up these ancient dreams and left me shaken.

It’s winter. The polar vortex has exhaled its icy breath over University Town. I’m free in the evening for the first time in months, and I happen to see a familiar, faceless profile on Grindr. Even after five months, he remembers me. It takes only two messages before I’m driving over.

When he leads me into his apartment, my pulse quickens. You wouldn’t notice him if he were in an office cubical next to you. Yet I know what he’s capable of. I’m sure we would make great friends, if I dared to ask. He’s close to my age, for one, and from his bookshelf, it seems we are both closet geeks. After taking off my boots, we head straight to his bedroom. 

I see a copy of Predictably Irrational, a book on business psychology, lying on the floor. “Hey, I read that! It’s useful,” I remark.

“I’ve been meaning to finish it,” he says. He’s still got his pants on. They are tan in colour, suitable for the office, and they look pricey. They fit him perfectly, and the suede textured material closely hugs his ass. I can see the top of his boxers against his tight abdomen. He pulls off his shirt, revealing his firm body, and walks around the bed to the window. Outside, across a small lake, we see the buildings and lights of University Town. With a quick pull, the view disappears behind his thick velvet curtains.

My pants and shirt lay in a heap on the floor, and I leap into his bed, sliding up to relax against the headboard.

The outline of his erection is clear and left leaning. From across the room, he locks eyes with me. His gaze is intense, like he is looking into my soul. 

“What are you looking for?” he asks. “Same as last time?”

“Yeah. I just like to be used.”

I feel his eyes raking over my body as he approaches. He reaches towards the lamp.

The room disappears into darkness.

“Well this is different,” I remark. He doesn’t respond, but I hear the rustling of his pants sliding off.

His hand brushes against my side, and the bed creaks as he mounts it. He’s straddling my waist. My eyes are beginning to adjust. I see only his dark outline rising up above me. A sliver of light reflects from the smooth head of his penis. Erect and ready, it slopes under its own weight towards my chest. I feel his hands reaching for me, finding my shoulders, and shoving me down. I obey, and slide my body down, slipping along his silky smooth sheets.

Under me, something hard digs into my naked back and I wince. I open my mouth to tell him, but I only manage to gasp before he stuffs himself in. He grips its base, shakes it around, slapping my molars and soft parts alike. I close my lips around it and taste his delicious saltiness. I let my tongue roll its head, feeling its smooth yet squishy texture.

He slowly pulls it out then shuffles closer to my face. His balls, shaved smooth, press against my nose. I open up to receive them, and suck one into my mouth. I slowly suck on it and hear him gasp above me. I’ve found something he loves.

A moment later he presses his penis through my lips once again. 

“Suck,” he tells me.

I try to maintain a suction, which becomes difficult as he plunges his member against the back of my mouth, and pulls it out again. I can see nothing but darkness, and the thing poking my back is breaking my concentration. I bend my elbow back and my fingers close around the pointed object that is bothering me. I pull it out and hold it up in front of me.

Wordlessly, he takes it from my hands, and without removing his penis from my mouth, leans over and puts it beside the lamp.

His hands go back onto my shoulders again, and he thrusts a while. Then, unexpectedly, he rolls back out of the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lay down. With your head off the bed.”

“Oh! Sure,” I say. Damn, I intentionally choose this position because it gives me more control. Last time he face-fucked me, he nearly suffocated me. Not that I didn't enjoy it.

“I will try.” I spin around and lay back, head dangling from the side of the bed. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.” I take a deep breath. At this point, I don’t know about the strange and terrifying thing that’s going to happen.

He steps forward, and I sense the warmth of his thighs around my ears, before he plunges his cock into my mouth. He gasps when it hits the back, and I brace myself, and allow it to slide down further. I stare up into the darkness and imagine what awesome sight I would be seeing if only the light were on. You’re fine, I tell myself. You can do this.

He pushes against my ribs with his hands, and draws himself out again. I slurp in a wet breath around his cock before he slams his body forward again. Maybe because he can’t see me, he is much rougher than last time. In the darkness I can hear his breath, coming in short gasps of pleasure. I focus on them to stop the urge to vomit. He’s sliding so far forward now he lifts one knee and then the other onto the bed, beside my shoulders. He's directly over my face now. When he bounces on his knees, his penis drives straight down away from his body into my open mouth and deep into my throat.

I retch, and he pulls it out, stroking himself, and presses his balls against my mouth. I oblige and slurp them in, grateful for the break. I massage them in turn with my lips as I hear him gasping above me.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and shimmies even further forward. over my face. I’m licking his perineum. I can feel him stroking himself over my chest, bending his body to direct my licks further and further into his crack. In a moment, he’s sitting on my face. I suck in a breath through my nose. The air is rife with the smell of his fabric softener, his musky aroma, and the tiniest whiff of nastiness.

So far, everything is going great. I rake my tongue up through his crack, letting it slide over each thick, unshaven wiry ass hair, and finally shove it into his puckered hole.

“Oh yeah,” he breathes, plopping himself down onto my face. I open up and give his ass hairs a wet, sucking kiss. I’m making out with his bottom now, and his moans of pleasure mix with my own moans of appreciation at being able to serve him.

Suddenly he pulls away, flips around and crouches over my chest, his hands still moving furiously over his cock. I can see only his dark silhouette, his back is arched towards the ceiling.

His features seem to shift in the darkness. All of a sudden, pictures come flooding into my mind. They are a memory of a memory, warped by time. I feel a cold sweat break out, and I grip the sheets with my fists. It is like I am at the top of a ski hill, so high I cannot see the bottom, and I’m about to jump. It is terror, and excitement all at once. 

Above me, the dark figure moves its fists over its cock, readying itself for what it has been waiting to do, for all these god damned years.

It stops and glares at me. I see the light glinting off its eyes, but I can’t make out his face. My imagination whirls. It looks like it has an impossibly huge mouth, filled with sharp spikes instead of teeth. 

 “You wanna eat my load?” the creature rasps.

“Uh huh” I squeak.

“What did you say?” 

“Yes please, sir”

“Take it.” it barks, pointing its penis towards me, almost straight down. I feel its other paw behind my head, lifting me up, and as the cock passes through my lips. The dark figure thrusts itself into my face, its hands press me into it, forcing me to eat its large, slick cock all the way down to the thick pubic hair. It thrusts like an animal and I can hear it panting and grunting. And then, as if to further impress me with its size, it stops, and flexes its cock muscles. It expands in my mouth, contracts. Expands, contracts. 

He’s not flexing, I realize as I feel a thickness surge in back of my throat. It tastes like pure evil, bitter yet decadent. I close my lips around it and lightly suck. I hear deep, ragged breaths above me as each pulse fills my mouth with more. Soon the pulses have stopped, but the dark form holds my face tightly against his body, forcing me to suckle him and draw out every precious bit of his demon seed while he softens. I swallow it all, just as I had promised.

The form shifts, reaches behind itself, feeling around the darkness for something. A hand, hot as fire, closes around my own cock. I usually don’t like getting reciprocated, but like in my ancient dream, I am paralysed and powerless to stop him. The beast roughly yanks my dick from my briefs and begins to pump it. With my mouth still being impaled, I feel the unstoppable wave rising within me, and I tense up, trying to hold it inside. My cries are muffled against its flesh as I buck my hips into the air and shoot my pent up sperm onto its wrist. Waves of orgasm release me from my paralysis as my butt hits the bed again, and I feel thick, hot ropes land on my belly. 

I'm done, and it hurts now. The demon carries on stroking without slowing down.  I cannot speak with my mouth full. I squirm, but each time I move my waist, the cursed hand follows, ceaselessly stroking without mercy. My eyes well with tears and they spill over my cheeks, and just as I did before, I give up and submit to him. He holds me there, and I lie under him, feeling empty and used, until his dick is completely flaccid and pops from my mouth on its own. 

I do not know how long I lay there. When the light comes on, the demon is gone, and only my unassuming hookup remains. My skin is slick with sweat and cum, mostly mine. The sudden chill makes me shiver.

I search around for something to wipe myself. Finding nothing, I wait while he towels his own crotch and meticulously wipes his wrist before he tosses it to me. I use the corner to dab the tears from my eyes.

We do not speak until I am dressed. I do not have words to describe what happened. Instead, we talk about the weather until I am in the elevator and the door closes. Then, knees weak, I collapse against the railing and wait there until long after I reach the ground floor, just trying to process what I have just experienced.

I can’t wait to see him again.

Read more of my real-life adventures at http://grindrfantasies.tumblr.com


Pete Gentle

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