My Old Lovers, pts 1 and 2

Dave

He wasn’t hard, so it was difficult to tell how big he was. Thick, it appeared, but even that was hard to judge.

“What do you like, Dave?” I asked reading the name tag on his T-shirt. He still wore it, standing there in his sweats with it hanging out the front, trying to look casual, clutching his glass with both hands while all the others, couples in various gender combinations and shades, went at it all around the house.

“I… I likes fucking white boys,” he stammered, lisping softly. Tall and chiseled, he’d have been mobbed if he hadn’t put out this air of nerdiness and fear that was so off-putting.

What the hell, I wasn’t having a great time here anyway. Might as well welcome Erkl to Swingworld.

I sank to my knees and took him in my mouth, moistened his geek willie, peeling back the dun-colored foreskin to kiss the chocolate egg of his glans. It stirred very slightly but not much. He wasn’t getting hard, not the way I was used to. He clutched his glass and gulped half of it, then grabbed a bottle at random and refilled it. I began to wonder if booze wasn’t half the reason he wasn’t rising above quarter-staff. The heat of my mouth alone should have caused more reaction than this.

I sucked a bit more and he responded with awkward thrusts but nothing was doing. I took him deep in my throat just for the hell of it; it was easier to do when his cock was still so soft. I closed my throat muscles around it, milking him. He gasped and pulled out, then moved back in with more assuredness. But long before he’d hit that rachet-hard phase of erection that would guarantee he wouldn’t lose it until he was done with me, he suddenly pulled away and moved behind me, into position. I was wondering what he was going to manage without a bit more steel, but I let him go.

His finger slid across my anus, swiping Vaseline, and then he slid his thick finger in. Ummm… Maybe that would be enough; it was thick and a lot harder than his joint just now. He rooted around enthusiastically, and my cock responded, but pulled out soon and I felt his soft glans press into my lubed crack. I was surprised when he managed, somehow, to penetrate.

With a sigh, he grabbed my hips in his greasy hands and begun to thrust, his soft willie somehow making its way into me, and still not getting much harder. I’d never had this happen before, and if he hadn’t managed to get in, it would have been embarrassing and irksome.

But as it was, the feeling of being fucked with a soft dick was beginning to grow on me. He was doing all the usual things, thrusting, grunting softly, telling me in his stammering, lisping voice how tight my ass was, how much he liked fucking me, but there was no pain of pushing past the resisting sphincter until it managed to relax and adapt,  no pressure like when a hard cock went deep and seemed to bounce off the end of my colon. All I felt was a soft presence, a sense that he was inside me, and the kiss of his thighs against my cheeks as he moved, enthused but restrained in his thrusts.

Deep inside my bowel, I relaxed more deeply. This wasn’t going to be the usual brutal fucking black men usually gave me, where I had to brace myself and use all my skills to avoid internal injury. I felt his soft cock slip deeper into me, and his thick balls slap my rump.

He was beginning to lengthen a bit, too, his girth expanding, but not painfully. Now it was clear there was a cock in me, but I could still feel the silkiness of his glans as it parted me again and again, sliding out and reentering. His thrusts began to pick up and his cock leapt a bit more in response, but he wasn’t yet pounding me like so many guys do; he restrained himself and pressed me like a lover, slipping deeply and gently into me as his soft lips brushed my shoulders and neck.

Now I could feel his arousal building, the thickness of his cock swelling inside me, opening me from the inside rather than slamming its way in, and I heard him moan as we both began to move in rhythm. “Yeah, baby,” he crooned said softly in my ear. “Show me how much you like my lovin’.” His lisp and stammer had disappeared along with the folds in his penis.

I reached back and took his balls lovingly into my hands and cupped them. His cock thickened more and the head pressed deep inside me. His breathing came faster and he began to pick up his pace, his cock now respectable in size, banging into my tight hole.

Then he reached around and began to stroke my own cock, keeping perfect rhythm with his thrusts, still gentle even as they became more substantial and began to fill me. No man had ever jerked me off while he fucked me before and I began to feel myself getting close to coming.

“You’ve got the nicest, tightest little hole,” he said. “Tell me how much you like my chocolate rod, baby.”

“Oh, Davey,” I said with an exaggerated moan. “Bury that big cock in me, please.”

He suddenly became thicker, and I realized he was all about the words.

“My ass likes your big, thick, dark… rod,” I added.

It did, especially now. With each thrust, he was getting more substantial, certainly as big as I’d ever had, but he was still going gently, gentlemanly in his sodomizing.

“Fuck me hard, studman,” I begged. ‘Wear my poor ass out.”

He picked up the pace, and now he was reaching so deep I was moaning in earnest, his cock stroking across my prostate gently but firmly. The wide rounded shoulder forced itself in, opening my rectum and sending waves of pleasure. I could hear his breathing hissing in my ears now as he neared his climax.  His plum-sized balls slapped my own, and the tip burrowed ever deeper. I sensed a good ten inches of him buried in my ass now, and he was still growing.

Then I heard him whisper “Oh, Jesus,” and he was spurting hot semen into me, pushing me over the edge. I came begging, “Oh, Dave, ride my ass, baby.”

Michael

 It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to let him fuck me. I knew Michael wasn’t gay, or even really bi; I don’t even think he really desired men at all. He just fucked them because their women sometimes asked him to and sometimes that was the only way to get to the hot women. Not to mention the pleasure he got out of having the men humiliated in front of their women: first, by having a much smaller cock than his, beside which most guys’ pricks looked like toys, and second, seeing how much their wives loved his cock and knowing they’d never please her as well as they had before, and third, getting their asses reamed by the big cock may have seemed like a very hot thing, but he hadn’t signed on for being considerate; brutal was his style, even with their women. When he fucked men, he was punishing.

Lots of men with big cocks were brutes, I had discovered; they had grown up with a weapon they were too immature to learn to use properly, and they got away with it because big cocks are in demand. Every single well-hung man I know has a problem with gentleness and subtlety; they have one speed and it’s pile-driver.

But damn, his cock felt good in my ass. Even when it was being applied without finesse, with the sole intent to cause pain. I knew he wanted to hear me scream. It was so big it took my breath away, burning its way past my involuntarily clenched sphincter and filling every crevice of my colon. His heavy balls spanked my ass. His dun-colored dong had this massive head that was shaped like a mushroom and about the same color, and it bent to the left, with a turn that looked like a badly mended bone.

It felt like a bone, actually. Hard and thick, it pried me open like an oyster and banged its way into me, his hands grasping my hips as he grunted and pounded. Once he came out of me and slammed forward again to get back in and for a second he missed, his cock thrusting insistently into the side of my cheek. It felt almost like he was going to tear a new hole if he didn’t find one already.

But he did, and it was well-lubed and ready for him. His huge glans pried me open and he slid in all the way to the hilt, his pear-sized nuts thumping my cheeks. He grunted with satisfaction and began to fuck me brutally, making me cry out about every other thrust. His cock came free and he bludgeoned his way back in, opening my sphincter with a powerful thrust, stretching my colon like an accordion about to burst.

Then I felt his orgasm coming on, his already-mighty cock thickening and lengthening even more, swelling inside me, sparking mind-blowing sensations of pain-laced pleasure, before he exploded inside me, a volcano of searingly-hot lava filling me.

“Take that, you tight-ass homo whore,” he grunted.

At the words, I came, came hard, the semen bursting out of me like bag that had been punctured. “Oh, Jesus,” I heard myself say. “Oh, Michael.

On Being Used

He’s looking at me from across the lawn, smiling in a sexy, dangerous, slightly greasy way.

I’m not sure why he picked me; I’m not out, and this is a hetero wedding. I’m not even gay. I’m really just mildly bi, more interested in women than men, by a factor of twenty to one most days.

At first, I’m pretty sure he’s after my tablemates, the two “out” queers on either side of me. Kelvin and Gary have been a couple for a decade, and Gary, the “chick” in the couple, likes to flirt. I’ve known them for 4 of their 10 years together, and I know it’s allowed, even encouraged, in their relationship.

At first Gary thinks that hot, pumped Latino guy with the vaguely outdated cocky greaser look is after his ass too. Then it dawns on them both, and they look at me. “Dude, I think it’s you he wants.” I’m not buying, but then I look back at him and he smiles in my direction.

He has that arrogant way of looking at me, like he knows he can have me whenever he wants. I am not used to a man looking at me that way; I think of myself as more of the hunter than the hunted.

He finds me at the bar, gives me his card and tells me to call him. Just ‘Jose’ and a cell number. This guy’s a real player, I guess.

I check him out with the groom, without telling him why I’m asking; just that I spoke to this guy, do you know him? The groom doesn’t ask why I’m asking; he knows I’m bi, but he doesn’t like to think about it. He tells me, though, probably just in case, that Jose has a date here at the wedding, a long-time lover; they’ve been living together for 15 years and have adopted children. The groom knows them from church, one of the more-active families in this very politically and socially active congregation.

I decide I’m not going to do this. He’s been with the man forever, and they’ve got kids, for Christ’s sake. Besides… I’m not really into men that much. I fuck them once in awhile, usually in a group situation or a three-way with a couple.

But somehow, later that weekend, after the tryst with the current woman has panted its way to a close and she’s on the plane back home, I do call and he’s pretty close by and says he wants to stop by, not for sex or anything, but just because. Before I know it, he’s at my door, smiling that cocky grin.

“Did I tell you how much I like your look?” he says, his voice a soft but somehow firm caress. “That scruffy wild thing you have going.”

I don’t like kissing, but he doesn’t ask, just kisses me, his tongue insistent in my throat. He’s shorter than I am, but he just grabs me around the neck and pulls me down to him, his hands on my ass and I feel him hard against my leg. I am surprised to find I am getting hard, too; usually, I don’t get hard when a man is about to fuck me.

“I like your cock, too,” he says, rubbing it through my pants before taking it out and massaging it in his palms. “A masculine thing, mixed with wanting to be fucked like a woman.”

He reaches into his pants and I find myself sinking to my knees in front of him. His cock’s dimensions are so different from mine; where the head of mine is thick and rounded, mushroom-shaped, the top of a meat lollipop, his is sleek and cobra-like, the head is smaller than the shoulders, torpedo-shaped. He’s longer than me, and I am not small. Thick as I am, he’s almost as thick, everywhere except the head.

I take him experimentally into my mouth, and lick, softly suck. He moans and runs his hands through my hair. I stop, and tell him. “I don’t… really know how to do this. Do you?”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll you teach you,” he murmurs tenderly

I’m thinking since he’s gay, not bi like me, he certainly knows how to suck cock. I’m thinking he’ll show me how he does it.

I’m wrong. His idea of how to teach me is to take my head in his hands and force his cock into my hitching throat, inch by inch, slow but insistent. His thick, high, tightly-clenched balls slide across my chin and thump against my lower lip. He starts to move, fucking my mouth and throat.

I try to take him all in, but my throat isn’t cooperating, and I gag every time he hits the back of it. So I try to make it work another way, using my hand as an extension of my mouth, wrapping him tightly in my fist and swirling my tongue around the glans. He moans and thrusts harder, pushing along my tongue and into my hitching throat again and again, bringing choking grunts and making my eyes fill from the strain.

After a few minutes of this, I am ready to try something else, so I lead him by his rigid and still-growing cock — uncircumcized like me, I think, but when he’s hard, the foreskin is so stretched smooth that it’s hard to say for sure – to the bedroom, and he takes over.

He pushes me to a bending position in front of the bed, quickly peels off my shorts and drops them, then his. I hear him rip the envelope and then snap a condom onto his cock while his slippery finger smears my crack with lube.

“Get ready, baby,” he says, his voice thick with lust. I try to make myself relax, as I feel his glans, snake-like in my mind’s eye in relation to the rearing hood of his cock, press against and pry me open.

I had taken to shaving my ass over the past few weeks in vague preparation for something like this. I’d never done this before. No hair around my hole, nothing to tug or to smell… or slow him down, I discover.

He’s not subtle, pressing my anus in a few short hard jabs and forcing it open, entering me with a masterful thrust, then ramming his thick cock in to the hilt a second later, muscling past the second involuntary sphincter without waiting for it to open. It’s deeply painful and wonderful at the same time, being so completely manhandled, mastered. It’s not my first assfuck by a long shot, but it’s the first time I have been so utterly emasculated, made into a woman. I find I like the role, at least for the moment, and I begin to pant and moan in a decidedly un-butch way.

“Oh yeah, bitch,” he says, his voice tight with brutal glee as he rams himself in again and holds, his heavy balls pressed to my cheeks. “You’re tight as fuck.”

I’m glad he noticed, but I wanted him to say something about my smooth ass, after all the work of getting it so soft and feminine. But he’s too busy slamming himself in, filling me and I can’t speak for the feeling of being so close to being hurt by the length and thickness of that cock.

He stops outside for a second, then punches in and stretches me open, pulls out, rams in again, making me groan with pain, and he loves it. “Yeah,” he says in my ear, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back, arching my back. “I like my bitches to make noise. Talk dirty to me.”

“Oh, God,” I hear myself moan. “Please fuck me harder, Jose. Fuck my tight little smooth ass.  Punish it.”

He growls with satisfaction and slams me again, letting go of my hair and knocking me onto the bed, splayed forward, my forehead resting on the bed and my forearms and elbows braced to keep him from pounding me into the headboard. “Get up on the bed,” he says in a minute, and I obey his order without thinking, get on my knees on the bed, my hips clasped tightly in his hands as he pummels my smooth hairless ass, always going in so far I feel his nuts spanking me.

I feel his cock swelling ever thicker, pressing against my pubic bone from the inside, rubbing my swollen prostate as he bangs me. Then with a triumphant roar, he explodes deep inside me, and holds still, his hot semen boiling into my colon sending me over the edge and I blow my load too. With his turgid dick plunging itself into my midsection, I come so hard, my load flings itself a record distance and splatters across the bed, my torso, and even the headboard, a sweet, painfully hard orgasm that leaves me weak and shaky. I collapse on the bed face down, and he rams me for a last few thrusts before he comes to a rest inside me.

“I fucked you good, didn’t I, baby?” he pants. “Say it. You wanted to be fucked, and I fucked the hell out of your ass, huh?”

“Yes, Jose,” I say meekly. “You fucked me good and hard. You were the best.” I stretch out my arms above my head, arch my back, and note the ache in my butt, know it will be sore in the morning.

He chuckles, satisfied, and thrusts a few more times before he pulls out with a pop, and slaps my ass as he heads for the bathroom. “Nice ass, Melanie,” he says. “I could ream you all night, but you’d never be able to handle it.”

I luxuriate in the unfamiliar feeling of being the femme. “Don’t bet on it, Pablo,” I say.

“I’ll be back for you, my gringo whore,” he says as he passes by on the way out, drops a few twenties on the nightstand. “Buy yourself something nice. Now come here and kiss my cock goodbye.”

I move too slowly, and he grabs a  handful of hair, hauls me over and sticks his cock in my face. He seems to have washed it, but I’m still not convinced. Doesn’t matter. He feeds it between my closed lips and I open, and then he’s in again, thrusting, riding my face, his balls somehow still full, slapping my face. His pubic hair smells like sweat and sex, and I realize he’s ready to come again, as I am adjusting my throat to let him pass. Suddenly the idea of making him come is very intoxicating and I start to suck hard, my vision blurring as he goes deeper and deeper. Then he stops and I take over the motion, running my hands over his tight muscular ass, milking him, moving my head and shoulders faster and sucking harder until he explodes, filling my mouth with hot milky come, spurting some into my throat. His balls contract and pull up against my lips and chin as he unloads it all in my mouth, all except the strands that splash across my lips and cheeks.

He laughs. “I told you I’d teach you,” he says.

“You taught me, sweetie,” I say. “Now go back to your wife and kids.”

His grin falters a bit. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d better. But we’ll do this again, real soon. I love to dig that hole again.”

It’ll be more than ten years before I see him again. Probably just enough time for me to get ready for it.