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‘The Porn-star and me’ - 2019-08-14
Wild Ride with a Pornstar.
The Italian Pornstar, Sir Tony, and I.
***
Rather than taking me like the wild man he had been before, he entered me gently. He worked that massive ten-inch pornstar cock into my hole slowly, letting me adjust to its girth before settling into long, tender strokes. His hands wandered playfully over my back and shoulders as he whispered dirty words, moaning softly against my skin.
But the tenderness didn’t last. After a few minutes, Tony’s fingers found a tight grip on my neck and shoulders. He began to ram himself into me with all his might — and I was loving every second of it.
***
Okay, I might be getting a bit ahead of the story, again. Let me tell you what actually transpired.
You know what happened a few months ago. I’d gone looking for a connection during a long weekend in Amsterdam, but none of the guys I met there seemed interested. My luck only changed when I met a tall, dark stallion on the intercity train home. He had followed me into a first-class compartment and rudely stuffed his dick down my throat, simply because he could.
That black-haired muscle hunk had seemed completely bent out of shape back then — acting like a stung bull in a china shop. He was a bully, not a lover. However, I managed to please him, calming the aggressor down until my tongue and lips had served him well. Damned well. Eventually, Tony started making love to me the way I’d hoped some asshole in Amsterdam would have done — not quietly or softly, but rudely and loudly.
As a reward for my efforts, the brute had left me his entire leather kit: the burly jacket, chaps, gloves, and even his harness boots. As it turned out, the leather was just another costume for Tony — gear he only used when dominating his ‘clients.’ He explained all this to me later over the phone; to my surprise, he had left his cellphone in the jacket pocket as a deliberate lifeline back to me.
Tony’s kinky leather gear was a bit too tight for his massive frame. Even though we were only inches apart in height, Tony was much broader in the chest and shoulders — a wall of muscle compared to my leaner frame. The jacket hung heavy on me, a constant reminder of the man who had claimed me.
We talked for hours about everything and nothing. I learned Tony was a professional pornstar, twelve years my senior, with hot-blooded Italian grandparents who gave him that permanent tan and thick black hair.
Suddenly, it all clicked. I realized why Tony had looked so familiar when we met in the leather shop in Amsterdam. I did see him before, but not in person. He was the star of a lot of the videos hidden on my laptop. I’d spent countless late nights at my desk, mesmerized by his raw power on screen, never dreaming that the ‘Sir Tony’ from the monitor would one day be the man stuffing his cock down my throat in a first-class train compartment.
I could tell I’d awakened feelings in Tony that he’d long since forgotten. His life as a pornstar, hustler, and pimp had numbed him over the years; he’d just been going through the motions. But when his world got too rocky, something in him snapped, leaving him craving rougher, more desperate sex. He certainly put my sorry ass through the wringer that day, but that was precisely what I’d wanted.
Tony told me several times over the phone that he felt something for me. I was flattered, of course, but a part of me wondered if he said that to every guy he fucked. Then again, you don’t leave a stranger your expensive leather gear, your designer sunglasses, and your phone unless there’s a real spark. I was confused, but I was hooked.
My new leather look and newfound confidence started turning heads in my small town. Even at the plant, a few of the guys in the office noticed the change. On the weekends, I made sure to bring home a guy or two. I dominated the hell out of them. Tony’s biker jacket — though still a bit too big for me — did the trick. I fucked and bred those guys before sending them back to their wives, girlfriends, or mommies. I didn’t care about them; I just gave them the rough treatment they craved.
• Making plans to hook up.
Tony had mentioned several times that he’d come to visit whenever he was nearby. A week ago, after he told me yet again how much he wanted to see me, I finally gave in and offered to send him my address. The gesture surprised the hell out of him — I actually heard his phone clatter onto the floor.
“Pete… do you really want me there? I meant… do you want me to come…?” Tony stammered after he’d scrambled to pick the phone back up.
“I sure do, Boss,” I said, my voice trembling slightly with a mix of nerves and excitement. “But I still have a lot to learn, and you’re the perfect teacher. Besides, I told you — I love your leather-clad ass. Even though I’m wearing your gear with pride, if you ever need it back, just let me know, and I’ll have it professionally cleaned for you. I’ll text you the address now so you can see exactly what kind of backwater I live in.”
“Oh, no! You earned that gear and everything else, Peter,” Tony replied, his voice shifting back to that confident, low rumble. “You don’t just wear those leathers; those leathers wear you. I can tell from the photos you’ve been sending that you really enjoy them. You’re something special… in fact, if you’re starting to like that look, maybe we could take on a few clients together.”
The suggestion caught me off guard. “Gosh, Tone… I’m not sure about that. Being some other guy’s bitch?... No, I don’t think I can. Sorry.”
“Bullshit, dude!” Tony barked resolutely. “These guys gag for the chance to have two masters fucking the crap out of them. They want to be treated like dirty little piggies and pay good money for the privilege.”
“Well... you’ll have to teach me how to do that then,” I stammered, feeling a thrill of fear at the thought.
“Fuck, boy, I bet you can give as well as you take! But I’ll teach you. At least you didn’t say no,” he laughed.
I changed the subject and told him about the week-long festival coming to town. The carnival folk were setting up in one square, while the other public spaces were hosting a music festival and a massive custom chopper event.
“I’m taking the week off work to enjoy myself. I plan on getting drunk as a skunk and checking out the bikes… or rather, checking out the bikers. You gave me a taste for dirty leather, Tony, and I can’t deny I want more,” I teased, wondering if he’d take the bait.
“You dirty little pig! It’s a date,” Tony said boldly. “I’ll see you there. Can I spend the entire weekend with you?”
“I’d love that, Tony. It’s a date. Now, if you’ll excuse me… my balls need draining. Just talking to you has me horny as fuck. See you soon, sir,” I panted.
“Enjoy it, stud... but leave some for me!” Tony laughed as we hung up.
• Dressed for sucksess.
I suited up in Tony’s kinky leather chaps, my new harness, and a pair of urban cowboy boots I’d picked up locally. As I jerked off, I snapped a few high-angle pictures to show off how the leather gripped my frame. I even brought out the flexible 12-inch black dildo I’d found in Amsterdam to show him exactly what I was capable of. I sent the hottest shots straight to Tony’s email, along with all my contact details. I was handing him the digital keys to my life, half-expecting him to use them and half-terrified that he wouldn’t.
As I sat there, cooling down, the doubts began to creep in. Was Tony actually going to show up? Was there any truth to the feelings he claimed to have for me, or was this just an elaborate power play? I didn’t want to end up feeling used and discarded by a man who lived in a completely different world. I tried to keep my guard up, but I couldn’t help it — I could already see a future for myself with a tough Italian muscle god like him.
Tony’s response arrived faster than expected. He sent over a video link and a private login code for his company’s website. The video was a personal message just for me. He took the camera through his massive, high-end home, giving me a tour of his life. He talked directly to me, offering fashion tips and sharing his deepest sexual likes and dislikes.
Then the video shifted to ‘behind-the-scenes’ footage from a few of his professional film sets. It was fascinating to see the production side of his life. I watched him in a high-end studio, surrounded by lights and cameras, looking like a total professional. He wasn’t just a hunk; he was a star.
Even with a film crew around him, he maintained that raw, dominant energy that had floored me on the train. Seeing him stay in character, command the scene, and deliver a world-class performance made my heart race. It was incredibly hot, and it felt like he was giving me an unfiltered look at his real world. Shooting porn seemed ‘hard’ work.
Strangely enough, I didn’t feel a hint of jealousy watching him perform with other actors. Of course, I’d rather have him drilling me, but I began to see the appeal of the life he led. I could finally see what he meant about us working together. I could actually see myself being part of that world… someday.
With my balls nicely drained and my head spinning with possibilities, I took a shower and grabbed some dinner. I spent the rest of the evening re-watching Tony’s ‘behind-the-scenes’ clips several more times, memorizing his movements before finally heading to bed.
• Save a life, ride a biker.
The week crawled by. I lived for Tony’s messages, especially the one where he confirmed he’d be seeing me Thursday evening or Friday. He had a few clients booked in the area — the custom chopper event had clearly brought some wealthy biker daddies to town. I imagined them booking Tony for a kinky hotel room romp before he made his way to me.
I had taken the week off work, and the town was a hive of activity. Between the bi-annual Autumn Farmers’ Fair, the traveling carnival, and the live music events, there was a buzz in the air that matched my own nerves. As the carny folk set up their rides, I found myself drawn to one guy in particular — a rugged, skinhead-trailer-trash type who worked the bumper cars.
He’d noticed me, too. Every time I did my shopping wearing Tony’s leather jacket, he’d track me with his eyes. He wore an old leather punk jacket covered in metal studs and dirty, stained bleacher jeans, but man, he looked good. In the days leading up to the festivities, he’d even wave me over as I walked by.
However, I had an important guest coming, an apartment to scrub, and a reputation to build. I played hard to get, smiling as I watched him stroke his crotch and make seductive gestures. We were into each other; that much was certain. And it was all because of the jacket I now wore with such pride.
On Thursday, I geared up: light blue jeans, my cowboy boots, and the heavy biker jacket over a skintight white polo. I slid on Tony’s mirrored aviators and grinned at my reflection in the hallway mirror. “That’s a fucking tough look, Petey. Go get some ass, boy,” I thought.
That morning, the streets were bustling as I walked toward the city center. At a pedestrian crossing on one of the main roads, a nasty-looking biker pushed through the crowd behind me. He was already drunk and oblivious, stepping out into the street without looking. Without thinking, I reached out, grabbed the back of his collar, and yanked him back onto the sidewalk with a violent pull.
A split second later, a massive 18-wheeler roared past, the wind from its wake nearly knocking us both over as it missed him by inches.
“You... fucking asshole! Piece of shit! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” the biker roared, his face turning a shade of purple as he raised his fists.
“You’re welcome,” I said indifferently, standing my ground. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be a grease spot on the asphalt. Look at the traffic, man!”
“I’ll... what the fuck! I’ll get you for this, you dirty bag of shit!” he screamed, but his bravado wavered as he realized the crowd was watching him. He looked at the cars racing by, the reality of his near-miss finally sinking in.
“I bet that sobered you up,” I said with a cold smile. “Let’s wait for the green light, shall we? It might actually save your ass.”
The people around us burst into laughter, which completely threw the biker off. “Faggot!” he spat at me as the light changed and I stepped onto the crosswalk.
“Proud to be... and you know it,” I muttered under my breath. I’d noticed the small leather Pride flag pinned to his gear. He was part of the club, even if he was currently a disgrace to it.
As I made my way toward the main square, my heart skipped a beat. I thought I saw Tony’s silhouette in the distance. I pushed through the crowd to get a better look, but he was gone. “Is my brain playing tricks on me?” I wondered.
I ducked into one of my favorite bars for a snack and my first stiff drink of the day. I met up with some friends, but I couldn’t focus on the conversation. The music was wrong, the vibe was off, and I was restless.
I headed back out, and again, I thought I saw the back of Tony’s head. I practically ran toward him, only for the man to turn around and reveal a complete stranger.
“Okay, this has to stop, Petey,” I scolded myself. “Tony said he’d call when he was done. Just enjoy the day. You’ll see him soon enough.”
• Ride a Carny.
I spent the afternoon admiring the custom choppers, vintage trucks, and — more importantly — the men in their kinky leather gear. The vibe was electric. I even got invited to ride in the bike parade by a burly biker daddy on a custom trike. By the time the parade ended at the carnival, I was riding high on a wave of confidence and beer.
I bought a handful of tokens for the bumper cars and took a spin around the track. As soon as the Carny worker — the skinhead I’d been eyeing all week — spotted me, he hopped onto the back of my car. I carted him around for a few laps before he climbed into the seat next to me, throwing a heavy arm around my shoulders. We gave the other riders hell, slamming into them and pushing them across the gleaming metal floor.
He was having a blast, and so was I. Then, he leaned in, his hand boldly sliding down to stroke the bulge in my jeans. “Let’s go,” he whispered, his hot breath against my ear. “I know a quiet spot behind the ride. I want to play bumper cars with your leathered ass.”
He hopped out, and I followed him around the back of the ride. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the nasty biker from the pedestrian crossing earlier. He was watching us from the sidelines with a dark scowl. I’d noticed him trailing me off and on all day, but I was too horny to care.
The ‘quiet spot’ was a narrow gap between the back of the ride and the Carny’s trailer, perfectly shielded from the crowd. It was anything but quiet. The music from the funfair was enough to drown out any sexual encounter. We started kissing, and I could tell the skinhead was gagging for a good fuck, clearly expecting me to drop my pants for him. But today, the leather felt different. I wasn’t feeling like a bottom anymore.
I gave him a rough shove, forcing him down to his knees.
“Suck on that,” I ordered sternly, whipping my ringed dick out of my button-fly jeans.
He looked up at me in shock, but he didn’t hesitate. He took it all. I pulled out and slapped my cock against his cheek; he responded by spitting on it and stretching his tongue out, eager for more. I grabbed him by the ears and began to skull-fuck him, driving my rock-hard cock past his tonsils. He started to gag and gurgle, his eyes watering.
I pulled back just enough to let him catch his breath before shoving it back in. “That’s right! Take it. Get it nice and wet, dude. Suck it until I’m ready to fuck your brains out. Your ass is next, bitch — because that’s what you really want, isn’t it?”
“Hell, NO!” he gasped, sounding genuinely surprised. “I’m no one’s bitch boy. You’re going nowhere near my hole with that huge dick.”
“We’ll see about that,” I commanded. I felt my ego being tickled by the remark about its size.
I hauled him off the ground and spun him around, bending him over a picnic table. I ripped his bleached jeans open, giving myself just enough access to his tight, un-prepped asshole. I pinned him down and drove into him — rough, nasty, and raw. As soon as I pushed past the second ring, his protests melted into low, hungry moans. He started pushing back against me, egging me on. I was channeling Tony; I was the bull in the china shop now. And oddly enough, we were both loving every rowdy thrust.
• A dirty biker dominated.
Topping this Carny had worked me into a total fuck frenzy. I had no intention of pulling out until I was ready to paint his insides, but just as I was about to deliver, I felt a weak, clumsy yank on my shoulder.
It was the nasty biker from the crossing. The pathetic loser had actually followed us into the shadows. The biker shoved me toward a chair, trying to act tough, and fumbled to get his little five-inch dick into my hole. It was a desperate, uncoordinated move. He even tried to order the skinhead to help him by forcing the Carny to face-fuck me at the same time.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, asshole?” the skinhead shouted. He looked more annoyed than intimidated as he easily shoved the biker off me.
“I thought you needed help with this one!” the biker squeaked back, trying to save face.
The two of them started to get into a nasty scrap — fists flying and boots kicking — but it was sloppy. I stood back and actually laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. I waited for an opening and delivered a sharp kick right between the biker’s legs, sending him doubling over. At that exact moment, Tony stepped into the clearing.
“Are you okay, Pete?” he asked, his voice low and concerned. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the biker by the scruff of his neck and threw him headfirst into the trailer wall like he was a cheap blow-up doll.
Tony pinned the pathetic wreck onto the picnic table and whipped out his ten-inch monster. The skinhead’s jaw practically hit the floor at the sight of it. Tony didn’t waste time with lube; he drove himself into the biker’s ass, a brutal lesson in who really ran this town.
“Pin this piece of shit down, boys,” Tony commanded. We stepped in, holding the biker’s arms as Tony hammered him. “Give me a ten-count!, I am gonna blow.”
We roared the countdown from ten to zero. On the final beat, Tony pulled out, shoved the biker to the ground, and delivered the nastiest, most insulting facial I’d ever seen. He then gave the guy a final kick toward the exit.
“Leave my boy alone, or you’ll never ride again!” Tony roared. The biker scrambled away, looking smaller and more pathetic with every step.
I threw my arms around Tony, but I wasn’t finished. I looked over at the skinhead, who was still dazed by the display. I grabbed him by the back of his head and forced him to the ground.
“Clean my lover off. Now,” I ordered. The Carny complied with a desperate kind of pleasure. He couldn’t even begin to deep-throat a cock that size, but he did his best to please the man I loved.
I watched them for a moment before Tony looked up, a wild glint in his eyes. While he face-fucked the Carny, he signaled for me to take the other end. I hauled the guy’s hips up, ripped his pants even wider, and railed him like there was no tomorrow, shoving him deeper and faster onto Tony’s massive pole.
“Let’s switch places, Tony!” I moaned after a while. “I know you want a piece of this punk, too.”
Tony grabbed the lapels of my leather jacket and pulled me in for a deep, bruising kiss. “I love you,” he whispered, his eyes dark. “But save your load for tonight. That one is all mine, boy.”
We finished spit-roasting the trashy Carny until he was a shaking mess. He was the only one who got to blow his load; Tony and I were saving ours for the main event. As we turned to leave, arm in arm, the skinhead managed to gasp out, “We should do that again sometime!”
Tony didn’t even look back. He just laughed and shouted over his shoulder, “You can’t afford us, bitch boy!”
We walked away arm in arm, the lights of the carnival blurring into a golden glow behind us. I leaned into him, enjoying the familiar creak of our leather jackets rubbing together. It felt right — like we were a team.
“So, umm?… Tone?” I started, my voice dropping a bit. “Be honest. If that skinhead could afford us... what would the rate be for a duo like us? For the ‘Sir Tony and Peter’ leather experience?”
Tony slowed his pace, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on how my lean body filled out his old leather gear.
“For a show like that? I’d say a grand and a half for a couple of hours, at least,” he rumbled. “And we’d split it fifty-fifty.”
“Wow... that’s a lot of money, man,” I said, my head spinning at the figure. “I’m not sure I’m worth that yet.”
Tony smiled and reached over, ruffling my hair with a heavy, gloved hand. “Trust me, Pete. After what I just saw back there, you’re worth every cent. But let’s save the professional talk for later. Tonight, I want you all to myself.”
• Sight for sore eyes.
We walked to a quieter spot away from the roar of the funfair. Now that we were out of the fray, I noticed Tony looking me up and down, taking his time. He nodded slowly, approving of every inch.
“You’re looking good, Peter… have you been working out?” Tony asked, his voice warm. “It’s good to finally be with you again.”
It was true; I’d been working out for months, and I’d even made sure to tan my body every fortnight. But I was glad Tony had noticed the effort I put in.
“You’re not so bad yourself, sir,” I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. “God, I’ve looked forward to this day. My ass is yours, sir.”
Tony gave me a dirty grin and a wink. “Your ass will have to wait just a little while longer. I’ll be at your place around seven, if that’s okay? I’ve still got some work to finish up. A dinner date… though I suspect it’ll be more ‘date’ than ‘dinner’.”
I felt a brief flash of disappointment, but I recovered quickly. I knew this was how he made his living, and I wasn’t going to stand in the way of his hustle. “Okay. Shall I get us something to eat for later? What would you like?”
“Smart guy,” Tony rumbled, clearly pleased that I understood.
“After that workout behind the trailer, I could sure use a shower and a meal myself,” I joked.
“Right. I could go for some Chinese takeaway. Seven at your place? And Pete... is it really okay if I spend the rest of the weekend with you?”
I didn’t say a word. I just looked into Tony’s deep brown eyes with all the affection I’d been bottling up. He reached out, his fingers stroking the leather of the jacket he’d given me. I winked at him.
“Go do your thing, Boss. Some hot food — and my ass — will be waiting for you all weekend,” I sighed in anticipation.
Before we parted, I reached into my pocket, pulling out Tony’s money clip and the phone he’d left in the jacket. It was far too much cash to be just a gift, and it didn’t feel right keeping it. Tony tried to push my hands back, but I insisted, pressing the clip into his palm. He looked at me for a long moment, then nodded and tucked the money away.
“Keep the phone, Peter, it’s newer than yours,” he said quietly. He leaned in and pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to my lips. “I really love you, Pete. See you tonight, stud.” He gave my tight ass a firm, stinging slap that left me tingling.
We went our separate ways, both knowing that tonight would be a milestone. After a few more beers with friends, I made my way home, picking up the Chinese food on the way. I had plenty of time to jump in the shower and get the apartment ready. I kept the food warm in the oven and set the table, dressing myself in new leather jeans and a white denim shirt with the sleeves cut off to show my arms. Hoping this look did not make me look too trashy.
On the bedside table, I arranged the toys, condoms, and lube. I laid out the chaps and the harness across the chair, ready for whatever the night held. I didn’t know precisely how kinky things would get, but as I waited for the clock to strike seven, I was hoping for everything.
• The arrival.
At ten past seven, a low, bass-heavy thrum vibrated through the apartment walls — the unmistakable mechanical growl of Tony’s custom Scrambler 800. I looked out the window to see him pull up, the bike a dense, matte-black silhouette against the bleeding orange of the evening sun.
Despite the Ducati’s lean tracker frame, the bike had a heavy, muscular stance, its oversized tires and blacked-out engine block making it look like a solid piece of iron. Tony killed the ignition, let the kickstand bite into the asphalt, and hopped off. Dressed in classic black leather that shimmered in the fading light, he grabbed his weekend bag from the leather buddy seat and gave me a sharp wave, miming that he was starving.
I barely had the door unlocked before he was pushing his way in. He didn’t wait for a greeting; he slammed the door shut and pinned me against the hallway wall, his heavy gear pressing into me. He was grinding his hips into mine, his mouth wild as he licked and kissed my face like he wanted to devour me right there in the entryway.
I finally found my footing and gave him one almighty, playful shove toward the other side of the hallway. I stepped in, kissed him with everything I had until we were both gasping for air, and then pulled back.
“Tony, sir… give it a rest for a second,” I panted, trying to catch my breath. “We have the whole weekend. I’ve got dinner in the oven.”
Tony leaned back against the wall, a soft look breaking through his tough exterior. “And that, my love… that is exactly why I adore you.” He reached out and wrapped a heavy arm around my shoulder.
“Here, let me take your coat,” I said. Tony shrugged out of the heavy biker jacket and handed it over. It looked the same as the one he gave me, but it was much sturdier and thicker. The scent of quality biker leather filled the hall.
“The bathroom is through there if you want to freshen up, and you can drop your bag in the bedroom. The place isn’t big, but we’ll make it work.”
He walked into the bedroom and dropped his bag by the bed. His eyes landed on the collection of toys I’d laid out. Without a word, he reached into his bag and added a set of heavy leather handcuffs and a coil of rope to the pile. A shiver raced down my spine.
Tony caught me looking and gave me a wicked grin. He picked up the box of condoms I’d put out and tossed them toward the bin. “We won’t be needing those tonight,” he said with a wink. “So, do we eat, boy… or do we fuck?”
“Let’s eat first,” I told him, trying to stay grounded. “You said you didn’t expect that client of yours to buy you dinner, didn’t you? Might as well eat mine instead.”
“When you’re right, you’re right. He didn’t. A quick shower after dinner, then?” He gave me another lingering kiss. I was struck by how softly spoken he was now — it was a side of him I’d never seen. Tony saw the look on my face and pulled me into a tight, bone-crushing hug.
“I missed you, Pete,” he whispered. I could see his eyes turning a little moist.
“It’s good to be missed,” I whispered back. “Now let’s eat. I bet you’d like something hot inside you.”
Tony paused for a beat, processing the remark, and then let out a roar of laughter.
We sat down to the Chinese takeaway, chatting about everyday things like an old married couple. It felt right, as if this was exactly where we were meant to be. And yet, in the back of my mind, a small part of me kept my guard up.
“Peter…?” Tony said between bites, his tone inquiring. “You haven’t asked me about my clients today.”
“I figured that’s your business,” I said firmly. “If you want to tell me, you can. But I’m never going to pry. That’s between you and them. Mind you, I’d much rather you do me... but I can’t exactly pay your professional rates.” I gave him a dirty grin.
Tony laughed loudly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Fair enough. Let me jump in the shower, and we’ll have dessert afterward… if that’s okay with you?”
“Sure thing, Tony.”
He got up and began to strip in the bedroom, leaving the bathroom door ajar. I knew it was an invitation, but I had a different plan. Once I heard the water running, I undressed and geared up: first the leather chaps, then the harness. I lubed myself up, slid a black dildo inside to prep the way, and positioned myself on all fours at the edge of the bed. My ass was aimed squarely at the door, a silent, leather-clad welcome for my professional lover.
• Dressed up and nowhere to go.
“Now then... what do we have here? Look at that! If only the asshole from this afternoon had pre-stretched his ass like that.” Tony’s voice was a low rumble of amazement as he stepped out of the shower. One hand stroked my buttocks while the other gripped his own cock, which had turned rock-hard the moment he saw me.
For a split second, I feared he was going to take me with the same cold brutality he’d shown that nasty biker.
Instead, he was incredibly gentle. He reached down and tapped the dildo, twisting it slowly, pulling it out, and pressing it back in a few times to test my readiness.
“Nice lube job, Pete... you know exactly what a guy needs,” he sighed softly. He pulled the toy all the way out, replaced it with his fingers to stretch me, and then slicked himself up. He pressed the head of his monster cock against my entrance, rubbing it up and down my crack before gently sliding inside. He paused frequently, letting my body adjust to his size.
This wasn’t the ‘Sir Tony’ I had come to expect. This was a different man — tender and patient. He caressed my hips and back, his hands wandering over my skin as he worked his way deep inside me. He leaned forward, nibbling my ear and kissing my neck, playing with my nipples while reaching around to jerk me off.
But as we both started breathing harder, the ‘Master Lover’ returned. Once he had a firm grip on my harness, he lost himself. He started pounding into me, his pace turning wild and frantic. Tony made his powerful legs smack loudly against my butt. He was splitting me in two, pulling all the way out before slamming back in with a force that made me scream my head off.
I loved every second of it. Tony yanked me up by the harness, wrapping a muscular arm around my chest to hold me steady as he edged me with his other hand. Finally, he pushed me flat onto the bed, pinning me with his full weight as he railed me into the mattress.
• Adventurous role reversal.
Just as he reached his peak, I found a sudden burst of energy and managed to roll us both over. I scrambled up, standing between his legs at the edge of the bed. Before he could process the shift, I grabbed his hips, pulled him toward me, and penetrated him.
His eyes went wide with disbelief. His arms were splayed out beside him, completely vulnerable. This was a first for Tony; in all his years as a professional, he was always the one in control. Usually, he would have fought back, but for me, he let it happen.
“You did say you wanted something hot inside you, didn’t you, Sir Tony?” I said with a mean, triumphant grin. I pulled his legs up high, driving into him until I gave him the first full load of the night.
Tony was flabbergasted, but clearly loving the treatment. I pulled out on my own command, and when I lay on top of him, he wrapped his arms around me in a fierce hug. I guided his cock back into my own aching hole and began to ride him gently, pulling the bedsheet over us.
We stayed like that for ages, tangled together, as I whispered everything I felt for him into his ear. It drove him crazy; he shot a second load deep inside me, then turned me over to keep the momentum going, his deliberate strokes making ‘whipped cream’ of our combined juices before he eventually ate me out.
When we finally collapsed, he pulled me onto his arm and tucked the sheet around us. He looked at me with pure admiration.
“Peter… if you keep this up, I’m never leaving,” he breathed. “Man, you’re something special. You really are.” He took a ragged breath. “Damn, boy... I feel like I should be paying you for that. Shit, that was nice.”
“Never mind the money, Tony,” I said with a dirty wink. “I’ll take it out of your ass tonight, and tomorrow you can take me leather shopping in Amsterdam.”
“Now, how about that dessert you wanted?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I flipped around and tea-bagged Tony, letting him lick my nuts while I sucked his monster cock as deep as I could manage. I gave him a second load right in his throat, and he followed suit, pumping another load into my mouth while I fingered the Dutch-Italian pornstar.
After fifteen minutes of blissful exhaustion, we dragged ourselves into the shower and poured two stiff drinks. We spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch, wearing nothing but our leather jackets. We watched one of the hardcore videos Tony had made years ago, but we spent more time talking about the future than watching the screen.
- I was his boy. He was my man. We were both in love, and we were both loving it.
• Continued in Part 3 •
Thank you for reading this story.
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And if your hands are not too dirty from all the spilled cum! 😋
© StrykerJ - January 2026
