Waiting...

It’s 4 p.m. on a Tuesday. I am at the door they use, the men who come to fuck me. How many times have a stood here, or at the front door, to see if they are here, get a glimpse of what they look like?

I have the house to myself, so it is playtime. A four-hour window as usual. I open it one hour in and close it an hour before giving two hours to host. The first hour is to prep, to get my body ready, my hole ready, to get the play area in the cellar ready – the lube out, put the rubber pads on the floors, ready the towels to wipe up the fluids, the dildos, the poppers, the popper gas mask, the rim seat, the sling. No condoms.

The wife is clueless. Never wonders why some days I seem wasted when she gets home. Never goes down in the cellar, though if she did, she would find everything in order. So today,  I put on the leather harness, leather jock, and get the eyeless hood ready to put on when I here steps on the stairs. I promise to start in the eyeless hood, and stay in the eyeless hood for the men who want totally anonymous. I am cool with that. No need for names. My need is for cocks, and now, for fists when I can get them.

I am at the door, ready, stoking my cock even though now, like every now like this is, is about my mouth and hole. But I like to get a glimpse. Seeing the man who is going to take my holes walk up the driveway increases the excitement. When I see him, I will rush downstairs, get on my knees. Put on the hood. My heart will be racing. How I like this moment. How I crave this moment.

Right on time. A nice car. A regular visitor, black, hot as hell looking gets out, starts walking up the driveway. I leave the doors – outer and the one that leads to the cellar unlocked. I head down. I get ready. I am ready. The inner door opens, “Hello?”

I reply, “Come down.”

The footsteps on the stairs. I take a deep hit of poppers. I put on the mask. I get on my knees. The lights are low, the room almost dark except for some red lights. The steps come closer. My hands are on my ass. I want my hole to show, show how ready it is. Ready. I am. I hear him come around the corner of the bookshelves, stop, “Wow, this is hot,” I hear him say. It is. What comes next, I know will be hotter.

This sex in my cellar started in the days of Craigslist. Craigslist is gone. So I post on BarebackRT, reach out on Asspig, and have used Grindr. I like to have the men contact me, even the repeat visitors, though with the guy coming today, it would be nice to have him take more often, much more often. With Craigslist gone, it is more difficult to get good results. But do get them. Having some regulars would be one better way.

The postings, reach-outs, contacts emphasize: all loads, bareback, fucking, fisting, sling, rim seat, dark, anonymous if wanted, bring a friend, walk-in, time period, poppers, pnp (if you bring), breeding. Also mature, hwp, 5’10”, 175, white. All races, with blacks to the head of the line.

So today’s 4 p.m. hook up: 50s, hwp, black, anonymous (at least at the start – I know him, as I have said, but the eyeless hood is part of the drill with him now even though he has been here maybe 6 times in the last 8 months). I’ll be ready, on knees, breed me, take me.

So here it is 4:05. I am on my knees. Another “Wow. You are so fucking hot.” I hear him strip. “Turn around and take this cock, baby.” I do.

A nice black cock – thick, growing as I kissed it, licked it, sucked it, held it. Another huff of poppers. Damn, I wanted that cock. And I knew I has getting it, that it would fuck me, fuck me deep. And he knew I like getting fisted. And, truth be told, he had helped get into being fisted.

“In that sling, pig. I know you are a pig. I know you like black cock. This black cock. You know my voice?” Another part of the drill, like it was a surprise it was him.

“Yes.”

“You know my cock. It is thick. It will stretch your white pussy. You want it strectched?”

“Yes.”

“Deep?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy.”

I called him Daddy. How much I was coming to want him to be my Daddy.

“Daddy, fuck me deep. Seed me. I need your cum deep in me.”

“Fist it in?”

“YES! Fist it in when you have cum deep in me. Get that hot cum deep in my bowels. I want your DNA.”

All the while we were talking he was fucking me. It was such t thrill to feel his big cock open my wet, hungry hole. It belonged in me. He had sculpted my hole to take his cock. My hole had gone from tight to open. It was so responsive to cock now, especially Daddy’s cock.

Fast, Slow. Piston fucking. Deep. Taking his cockhead to the mouth of my cunt, then ramming it in. The sling was rocking. I was pulling my legs back, trying to hook them in what would also be the wrist holders so my ass would open wide to be used, taken. I was in heat.

“Damn, baby. Take some poppers. Let me get that hot gas mask ready. Then I will get you in those wrist holders. Wide open for your black Daddy to fuck your freakin’ hole.”

“Yes Daddy. Be my master, Daddy.”

“Damn, yes.”

He gave me the small popper bottle for some deep hits. I felt the waves run over me. He hooked my ankles and wrists in the wrist holders, made them tight, opened me wide for him, the way I wanted. He got the mask ready, dousing a fresh paper towel with a good dose of Rush. I was his.

He started by eating out my pussy.

“Damn, that tastes good.”

He fed me my ass juices with his lips. This was one thing I come to really like. Better to have cum mixed in. Best to get as a snowball to pass back and forth. But this was so good. Hs face was wet with my ass juices and lube.

Then he was back in my ass. Fucking me. Using the sling as a pendulum to drive my hole onto his erection. Deep, I hope right to the opening of the inner ring to my small intestine so I could take his load deep in me. He paused, started to shudder. He was cumming. Damn! I felt the pulsations as he held the sling still. His cock buried in me. Ropes of hot cum. Then his cock was in my mouth to suck clean… ass juices, lube, cum, his cum. This was a wonder every time it happened.

He left me for a moment. Ankles and wrists still restrained. My ass still wide open. I could feel the juices and lube and cum oozing from my hole. Then, the mask…

“Breathe deep, deep, get crazy with poppers, baby, Daddy has more for you. You know you love Daddy’s fists.” I did.

“Fist my cunt.”

“You know I will.”

 I was wide open, I could feel my hole wanting more, my rosebud blooming a little.

“Let that magic mask take you where you want to go, baby. Take my fists.”

“I will.” It did.

As hot as huffs from a bottle might be, the mask was supreme. Hands-free, on-going, overpowering. My hole just opened as it felt him start his gentle, soft, initial fisting. Today, I knew, I knew, that this would lead to his using his clenched fist to open me, not a two, then three, then four, fingers leading up to his whole hand, … but a rhythmic punching growing in intensity, stopping only to add lube, to assess the state of my asshole, to see what the mask was doing for me. And today it was working its magic. The clenched fist felt like I warm friend wanting to come in. I could shift my weight to get the sling moving. I wanted him to know how much I wanted his fist in me, pushing his cum deeper in me. This was one special man to me. If ever…?

The punching increased in force. They came closer together. I could feel them start to gain entrance. The poppers were helping my ass lips surround his hand. I could feel him hold his hand steady while he pushed the sling back up, then let it go, then his clenched fist went in, went in my loose fucking cunt. In. Not for the first time. Not for the last, I hoped. He held the sling steady. His hand steady. Filling my anus.

“Ah, Daddy.”

“Yes, pig. Pig, I love that wet warmth surround my hand. I love to be in your ass with my big fist. It is so ot to see you explode in desire.”

‘Daddy, fist me hard. Please.” I shouted in the mask.

He started to twist his hand in my ass. I could feel so much. My prostate… I so wanted him to take me to where my cum would just flow out of cock. I had grown to love that. The flowing. I knew he would scoop it up and feed it to me. I was hungry.

“Take it, boy. I love your pussy. You are my pussy boi.”

I was.

“Fist your pussy boi, Daddy. Wreck this boi pussy.”

He surely did. He was my daddy. Twisting, fist fucking, stretching me then punching back in before the gap could close. Sometimes fucking me with his cock. Sometimes running his tongue around my inflamed ass lips. When he fucked me he leaned over to twist my nipples, then to bend in to kiss me. This was sex the way I liked it. Intense. But today was different. More time.

“Daddy loves your pussy. Daddy can be here until 5. Daddy is going to leave our pussy so loose… and use those toys to keep it loose for me because I will be back next week with a friend I have told about your incredible hole”

“Yes Daddy. Leave me gaping. Loose. Fisted.”

“You got a guy at 5?”

“Yes.”

“Damn he will get a wrecked gay pussy boi.”

He stood up. Backed off. Then punched his fist into me. Pulled it out. Then commenced to punch me with one fist, then the other. He pumped lube into my hole. He recharged the mask, so I was so fucking high on poppers.

“Damn, pig, you, OK, your body is just shaking.”

It was. From the poppers. I kept inhaling. He kept fisting me. Fisting. KI was flying. Cum flowed from cock.

“If you are OK, boi, time for two. Have to do that to you boi. Give a double fisting. OK?”

Could I say no. “Yes, Daddy!”

He pulled out. My hole was so empty. I could feel ass juices and lube flowig out. I could feel him packing my hole with more lube. Then I felt him plug the hole, plug with what I knew were his hands held together.

“Damn, baby, if they just do not slide in.”

They did. My hole seemed to swallow them. In, out, hands held together, stretched more. What seemed to be no resistance. Wet, slippery, a good man cunt.

“Shit, I have to get both and clench. Then see what I can get up to. Ready?

I was still poppered up, feeling just so wasted. “Take it.”

He did. Two hands in. Two clenched. Two filling me so much. Then one clenched fist pulled out. Then the other.

Then, I heard him say, “Fuck you are blooming out. I love it baby. Your red ass blooming out for Daddy.”

He touched it, then, “Baby, I need to cum in you. I need to fuck that pig prolapse back in. But you are so loose. But let me try.”

I was loose. Loose. But I could feel his cock. Then I felt him pull out. He jerked his cock until he started to cum, then, cock in hand, plunged into finish, to breed me again.

“Fuck, I am wasted, boi.”

“Good.”

“Yes.”

“Your ass is flowing juices and lube and cum.”

“Feed me.”

He did. And we covered my body with lube and juices.

“Fuck, boi. Suck my cock.”

I did.

“Shit I have to piss.”

“Do it.”

Hot, tangy, I took as much as I could. I hoped I could clean up in time.

“Fuck, boi, no one is like you. A total pig. And to think you have a wife.”

Time was up for today.

“Got to go, I know. Back next week.”

“You’ll bring your buddy? Back?”

“Yes. Hung. Loves to wreck hole. Though there must not be much left to wreck.”

“Cool. Same time. Same place. Same hole. You are my Daddy.”

“Yeah.”

“Bye.”

He cleaned up. He dressed. He went up the stairs. I was left in the sling. My arms and legs still restrained. Damn, my hole distended, gaping, flowing. If my 5:15 didn’t show… well, I would have to try to get up, or just maybe, she will find me like this, and who knows…? Maybe I would like it, being found this way, nothing needing to be denied.

He didn’t show. Can I get out? No. I can’t.

I hear the door open. It is a bit after 6. I here a voice. “Hello, honey.”

Footsteps on the stairs.