When I think about those nights in Montreal

I woke up out of a sound sleep. On a warm night, his uncovered body was facing me. He looked so innocent as he slept. Light from the street washed over his muscular form. It slightly exaggerated the definition I've grown accustomed to and love so much. He is still so hot, blonde, smooth, muscular, win a big beautiful cock and balls.

After all these years, I’m so attracted to him. As my eyes washed over his hairless hip, chest and semi-hard cock, I had flashes of exciting times together. I remember the night in Montreal so many years ago, drunk and horny he knew exactly what to do to drive me wild with desire. In that state, I'd do anything. Anything, and he knew it. 

In Montreal he whispered in my ear as he kissed me and started playing with my ass, then my hole. He told me my hole was loose, loose as a whores hole. He asked me how many cocks have shot up my dirty hole, hundreds, thousands? How many have you taken in a night? What's the biggest? His questions turned Us both on. He loved watching me get fucked hard by random strangers with huge cocks, couples groups of friends he brought to me from a basketball game, Many black or dark and eagerly performing for their friends  The dirtier I was, the more he liked it. He easily stuck his finger inside me. As I remembered these events from year's ago, I started playing with my nipples, gently as he slept. I thought of waking him but decided not to, not yet. 

I fantisized about that night in Montreal, being controlled by him, a night alone with him excited and afraid as he played with my hole roughly. He said, I love watching you take big fat cocks  up your ass. You want me to get some hung black guys over here to fuck you hard, rough.” I moaned as he called me his pig. My hole flooded with slippery self lubrication. He was proud of his power. It flowed freely from excitement as his fingers stretched and and fucked my willing hole. He pulled out his wet fingers and shoved them in my mouth. “Yea, taste your ass juice you fucking pig” as I sucked, licked and moaned with his fingers in my mouth. He could do anything to me. I trusted him. He knew his control and used it and loved it.

He abruptly shoved his fingers and the tip of his thumb in my hole. He pulled the first couple of inches of his fngers in and out stretching me more and more. Then he pressed further. 

One thing about him that everyone notices, he has wide feet and big wide hands. Maybe his fat cock can be lumped into this category but as he pressed further I imagined how much of his fingers or hand where inside of me. I was feeling full, horny and excited. I remember thinking I will stop him at some point but not yet. It was so good. I didn't want to be fisted. I didn't want to enter a world I feared. I was afraid. I was afraid of pain and afraid I'd want more and more. Even though I've always been very sexual, I'm kind of a vanilla guy, suck, fuck, quantity but no toys, plugs, fisting.

As I laid there watching him sleep and playing with my nipples remembering that night. I slid a finger into my hungry hole. I pushed it in and out as I remember him pushing his fingers all the way inside me as his knuckles slid in and my ass stretched for his fat hand. He applied incredible pressure, moving back and forth as my ass floated with natural lube to help him move further. He said I was flooded with hot sticky ass lube. “You are hot babe, I want to dump myself in your juices.” His enthusiasm turned me on more and more. I was stretched so far, so full, so good as my sphincter released to let him all the way in. I felt him move past the widest part of his hand and I loved it. I let him stay deep inside me as I felt so full and fulfilled.  Then suddenly  I pushed or pulled his hand out of me. He attempted to push back in but I wouldn't allow it. Why? Fear. 

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pushed his body on me. He easily slid his cock inside me and put his wet hand over my mouth. We both licked his fingers and tongued as he fucked me ahard. He loved how wet and loose I was. He taunted me for being so stretched out as he slid inside me. He called me whore as he flopped around and told me he could have fit five cock in me at the same time, he shot wads of cum deep inside.

As I moaned remembering that night and continued fucking myself with my finger or three, I looked at his body remembering that night so long ago. He woke. He smiled and climbed on top of me. He was happy to find me wet and ready as he pushed inside. He called me his pig. “What were you thinking about?” I said, “you”, as he fucked me slowly and tenderly. I grabbed his firm ass as he pumped hard and dumped his load inside me. He kissed me and rolled back over, quickly falling back to sleep. 

I played with my ass again, pulled his cum out of my ass, lubed my pole as I jerked off. I came thinking of that night long ago, what if? If I could go back knowing I could do this once and never again, I would have let him fist me longer. I never went so far or close to it again and maybe never will but that night could have been something else. A moment that only happens when you are stripped of all your fear and baggage. The thought of his big hand sliding in and out of my willing hole still leaves me weak. I remember how hot it felt to be so full and out of control. I think of this often. Maybe it's not to late to try it again.