I could feel his eyes on me as I danced with two of his former lovers both of whom I was currently courting, if that word isn’t too ancient. When the song was over, the girls both headed outside for a smoke so I sat down beside him and we small talked about music for a while. We’d always had an easy repartee in the two years we’d known each other. I wished I had his talent and he, my experience.
“How do you do it, man?” he chuckled.
“What are you talking about?”
“You walk into a room and everyone perks up. The women all look your way, make a point to come up and hug you…”
“It’s just that I’m no threat to them.”
“Bullshit, man. It’s charisma, dude. Sometimes I feel when I’m onstage I can conquer the world, you know, that I could have any chick in the room.” I shake my head agreeing wholeheartedly. I’d been talking to a girl just tonight who stopped mid-sentence when he came onstage and ignored me until he walked off. “But then I get out in the crowd, I feel like a phony. That they see through me.”
I laugh, “Are you a phony?”
“Of course, aren’t we all?”
“Yes. So why work so hard at it. We’re all ‘onstage’ all the time even at our most sincere. We act differently around one parent then we do around another, for example. We even spend inordinate amounts of time fooling ourselves everyday. The key is to accept that and not work so hard consciously trying to be something other than just being acceptant of who you are.”
He thought for a moment and asked, “So what is it with these women? Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re 20, even 30 years older than some of them and they just adore you. Not that, I mean, not that you aren’t charismatic and all. Shit, this sounds like I’m calling you old…”
“I am old. You are half my age and thanks for not mentioning ‘past my prime’, ‘hairy’ or ‘older than their fathers’. I just don’t feel it most of the time. In my head I’m in my late 30s, thus the attraction to 25 year olds.” Two young women walk by and smile overhearing me.
“See!” he marvels.
“They were looking at you, dude.”
“No way, man. Whatever. My point is, I’d fuck you if I thought some of that charisma would rub off on me.”
“Oh really?” Now, I’m cracking up. “How high are you?”
“No man. The shit pores off of you. I noticed the first time I met you. People like your attention. I watch women and men both put their eyes in your direction all night long. It’s like wherever you are there must be something going on.”
Right. “Well, send them over. I’m a lonely old perv.” He laughs and I continue, “Why are you so worried? Every woman I’m interested in wants to sleep with you. You’re a sexy, young, buff rock star with a deadly smile. I don’t get it.”
“Probably because they know they can have me. I’m an easy mark. A notch for their street cred, nothing permanent.”
“Ha. Yeah, me too.” Jokingly but I realize, “Aren’t we sort of in the same boat? You follow your dick around like most studs your age, which makes you not only a conquest of sorts but also someone they want to attach themselves to. The lure of that big, illusive fish in the pond. Untamable. They want to be the one that captures you and settles you down. Then I am as ready for action as you are but at my age impermanence is part of the pitch. ‘Fuck me while you still have the chance.’”
“So now you’re trying to turn me on with your sly, self-deprecating wit?”
“Oh, that’s what it is? I’m just being me or a version of me that is custom tailored to you.”
“Ah-ha. So that’s what attracts them.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t seal the deal. That’s what gets harder and harder over the years.”
“You get harder and harder over the years? Just keep talking. Whatever you’re doing is working.”
“Are you hitting on me?”
“That was my next question,” he smiles.
Now, we’re having fun. Listing each others attributes and going completely over the top. Mentioning shoelaces, hip swagger, bracelets, hip turns of phrase, retro bell-bottoms…on and on. Funny.
“I think all of the beer’s gone,” he muses after we both shut up long enough to watch a couple of girls kissing in a corner while they wait for the restroom. “Let’s go. The girls will never miss us.”
“Yes, they will.”
“Good.” There’s that cocky, youthful carelessness.
Once in his car, talk gravitates back to the gig. Easier than the unspoken weirdness of the unknown that we are actually in the process of chasing across town. His house was a mess of a place as expected of a band dwelling. His roomies were still drunkenly jamming at the after-party as we left but here the house was quiet for a change.
“Come on back…uh, drink? Joint?” but before I could answer he flipped on the light switch and I followed him down the hall. “Close the door,” he said, pulling a half-filled cap-less fifth of Jack off the nightstand next to the disheveled bed. We each took a sip; he set it on the floor and then walked me two steps backwards with his hand on my chest until my back was against the door and his face inches from mine.
“I’ve been told you’re a great kisser,” he said directly, looking at my lips.
“I’ve been told I kiss like a lesbian,” I retorted truthfully. The stirring below my belt at his daring, wide smile momentarily distracted me from his incoming kiss. It was wet, soft and not tentative but not all-forceful tongue lashing like the average hormonal 23-year-old.
“A lesbian with a mustache,” he smiled before interrupting my laughter again with his anxious mouth.
I could feel his excitement building as his hips pressed against mine. He pulled back slightly and said with a hint of hesitation, “Ever done this before?”
“Been kissed by a man while being pressed against a door by his raging hard-on? Uh, no.”
“Me neither,” he stated and with a hand on either side of my head, he pushed it back and up and bends to kiss down my neck to my chest. I spin him so that he’s the one backed up to the door and he grabs my shoulders and softly but decidedly pushes me down to my knees in front of him. I can feel the heat of his manhood through the straining fabric of his jeans. He yanks off his belt with one swift motion and I unzip his fly, the musky scent of his flesh hits my senses just as his spring-loaded member just misses my chin on its leap towards his taut belly. He pulls his t-shirt up over his head but I notice only his long, thick cock jutting skyward. My mouth instinctively caresses the thick ridge from its base up to his mushroom glans. Just as I reach that perfect head, I spin him around to face the wall and slap his ass three sharp times. He winces and moans as I spread his cheeks to lap at his hairless pink star. It takes no time before he is swaying his ass back and forth, his breath slowly increasing speed. Reaching down I unleash my stone-like appendage, dropping my pants as I stand behind him, leaning my weight into him. He bows his head between his crossed arms, which support him against the door.
“What do you want?” I ask. He mumbles something quietly. “I can’t hear you,” I whisper as I slap his ass again and reach around to briefly but tightly squeeze his magnificent hard-on.
“Fuck me now. Please. Fuck my ass, sir.”
This boy is a natural. I spit twice on my hand and ready my swelling head, which practically leaps towards his waiting asshole. I press slowly, instructing, “Push.” In short order, my large pulsing head enters him with a pop and he sucks in his breath and then says, through clenched lips, the side of his face pressed against the door, “Don’t stop. Slowly please…sir.”
Showing posts with label ass play. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ass play. Show all posts
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Sunday, May 29, 2011
SHOOTER
DREAM -
P.O.V. is from the shooter…
Man in a room with an assault rifle. There are five-ten movie star guys, 20-30 yrs old on the floor of the room. He starts by first shooting one of them in the leg. He spins and falls silently. The others each stand up and start to beg for their lives, though there is no sound except for a click whenever the trigger is pulled. The victims are each wearing dollar bills stuck to their bare shoulders and chests. The only other thing they have on are sheer briefs. You can see their cocks and balls through the material. They each get shot once in the shoulder or neck and grab it and fall. Then the next guy gets shot.
P.o.v. shifts to dreamer…
The Shooter is a long-haired young guy looks sort of like actor Lukas Haas. He walks out of the room and is walking through a restaurant. He carries the gun openly and says or nods “good night” to a few people and no one seems shocked by the gun he is carrying. Nice place. 1/3 of the tables are full of late-night diners finishing their meals. Dark wood paneled walls and red leather banquettes. Wait staff wears white aprons.
Once outside, he thinks that this is quite a rifle. His two female buddies do too. He aims at a tall tower, like a lighthouse but industrial, maybe a smokestack, probably 500 yds away. He shoots and the light in the top of it goes it. “Wow. Great shot,” someone says. He shoots at a bldg a few blocks away and part of the neon sign sparks. He turns and points the gun at a big glass window on the front of the restaurant he just came out of across the street. Someone inside falls to the ground…for a moment everyone thinks he’s been shot but he gets up laughing. They are all dancing inside the window. The shooter leans the gun in a corner against the front of a bar they are standing in front of.
p.o.v. changes…to me.
The shooter is now gone and I’m standing with the two women. A guy walks up that we know. Tall, blond bearded. His name id DJ. He’s with an even taller, slightly older, short-bearded guy carrying a huge black backpack. DJ says, “This is Tom Mitchell. He directed Blittz II”. We all recognize the name of a famous film or video game. They walk in the door. DJ sticks his head back out and announces, “I think he’s my soul mate…too bad I’m not gay.”
The woman to my immediate right is a Gwyneth Paltrow look alike. She has a short quiet, exotic –looking girl and her right arm. ‘Gwyn’ says to the a girl who walked up with DJ, “Where’s the money?” For some reason I know she’s speaking code. DJ’s girl walks up and moves her white woolen thumb to Gwyn’s eye, wiping a white cocaine-like substance just under her lower eyelid. The woman turns to me and pokes the same thumb into my nostrils, first right, then left. I lean to Gwyn and whisper. “Bet you she’ll kiss me in 30 seconds.” She laughs. I look at the woman who is a stunning brunette with freckles and emerald green eyes. I silently look intently into her eyes for an endless 15 seconds and then I say softly, “What makes you need to kiss me so badly?” She leans in and our mouth s meet, wet and open. I take her bottom lip between my teeth for a moment. I take her hand and we quickly walk down the block.
A block down on our left, there is a small store front with no sign. The tall, narrow window is lit from behind by harsh fluorescent light. We walk in the door. The room is maybe 5’ x 5’. There is an Asian woman at a counter. Walking past her we move through a dark door into a large back room. Maybe 15’x15’, lined all in large white tiles. There are two young Asian women talking at a sink/counter in front of a mirror.
I put a hand on my new friend’s shoulder and she sits on a bench. I take a step towards her and look down to see the distinct outline of my hard cock jutting straight out towards her. She pulls open my pants and engulfs my stiffness down her throat. Taking her left hand, I pull her index finger into my mouth, wetting it well.
“Do it,” is all I say and she takes her hand away and slowly slides her finger into my waiting ass. In three or four slow pumps down her throat, I am ready to explode. She pulls her nose back away from my crotch and lays my cock head on her tongue so I can watch my hot excitement fill her mouth. I feel her eyes on mine, anticipating.
When she has taken it all and cleaned me off. I pull her standing by her long, soft hair, kiss a few stray drops from her lips and reach down between her legs. Under her short skirt her thin lace panties are drenched and easily move aside as I slip two fingers into her. We stare into each others eyes as she begins to move against my hand in slow undulating motion. Her eyes glaze over and I feel her shift her body weight against me, her arms around my neck becoming heavy. As her breathing quickens, she tightens her grip around my fingers and I sense a long wave of release coursing slowly up her body, followed quickly by a succession of repeated involuntary spasms. She never closes her eyes though they get thinner and nearly shut a couple of times. When she is sated, we lean heavily against the wall.
The ambient light which had dimmed and seemed tinged in red from a small window above us, now took on a warm but brighter glow. I hear the Asian women giggling and whispering behind us. I slide down onto the bench, my date never takes her arms from around my neck, eyes now shut, breathing slowly as if she is practically sleeping. I cradle her in my arms.
One of the women walks towards us and with a steaming dark towel gently wipes our hands while the other does the same to my cock, still protruding from my fly. She gently tucks me back in and zips me up. They leave us alone in the room.
p.o.v. is now third person/camera man…
I walk out of the room, carrying the woman in my arms. The girl at the front counter scurries quickly to open the front door. We are again on the same dark street vague traces of purple dawn showing themselves from around the corners of buildings.
P.O.V. is from the shooter…
Man in a room with an assault rifle. There are five-ten movie star guys, 20-30 yrs old on the floor of the room. He starts by first shooting one of them in the leg. He spins and falls silently. The others each stand up and start to beg for their lives, though there is no sound except for a click whenever the trigger is pulled. The victims are each wearing dollar bills stuck to their bare shoulders and chests. The only other thing they have on are sheer briefs. You can see their cocks and balls through the material. They each get shot once in the shoulder or neck and grab it and fall. Then the next guy gets shot.
P.o.v. shifts to dreamer…
The Shooter is a long-haired young guy looks sort of like actor Lukas Haas. He walks out of the room and is walking through a restaurant. He carries the gun openly and says or nods “good night” to a few people and no one seems shocked by the gun he is carrying. Nice place. 1/3 of the tables are full of late-night diners finishing their meals. Dark wood paneled walls and red leather banquettes. Wait staff wears white aprons.
Once outside, he thinks that this is quite a rifle. His two female buddies do too. He aims at a tall tower, like a lighthouse but industrial, maybe a smokestack, probably 500 yds away. He shoots and the light in the top of it goes it. “Wow. Great shot,” someone says. He shoots at a bldg a few blocks away and part of the neon sign sparks. He turns and points the gun at a big glass window on the front of the restaurant he just came out of across the street. Someone inside falls to the ground…for a moment everyone thinks he’s been shot but he gets up laughing. They are all dancing inside the window. The shooter leans the gun in a corner against the front of a bar they are standing in front of.
p.o.v. changes…to me.
The shooter is now gone and I’m standing with the two women. A guy walks up that we know. Tall, blond bearded. His name id DJ. He’s with an even taller, slightly older, short-bearded guy carrying a huge black backpack. DJ says, “This is Tom Mitchell. He directed Blittz II”. We all recognize the name of a famous film or video game. They walk in the door. DJ sticks his head back out and announces, “I think he’s my soul mate…too bad I’m not gay.”
The woman to my immediate right is a Gwyneth Paltrow look alike. She has a short quiet, exotic –looking girl and her right arm. ‘Gwyn’ says to the a girl who walked up with DJ, “Where’s the money?” For some reason I know she’s speaking code. DJ’s girl walks up and moves her white woolen thumb to Gwyn’s eye, wiping a white cocaine-like substance just under her lower eyelid. The woman turns to me and pokes the same thumb into my nostrils, first right, then left. I lean to Gwyn and whisper. “Bet you she’ll kiss me in 30 seconds.” She laughs. I look at the woman who is a stunning brunette with freckles and emerald green eyes. I silently look intently into her eyes for an endless 15 seconds and then I say softly, “What makes you need to kiss me so badly?” She leans in and our mouth s meet, wet and open. I take her bottom lip between my teeth for a moment. I take her hand and we quickly walk down the block.
A block down on our left, there is a small store front with no sign. The tall, narrow window is lit from behind by harsh fluorescent light. We walk in the door. The room is maybe 5’ x 5’. There is an Asian woman at a counter. Walking past her we move through a dark door into a large back room. Maybe 15’x15’, lined all in large white tiles. There are two young Asian women talking at a sink/counter in front of a mirror.
I put a hand on my new friend’s shoulder and she sits on a bench. I take a step towards her and look down to see the distinct outline of my hard cock jutting straight out towards her. She pulls open my pants and engulfs my stiffness down her throat. Taking her left hand, I pull her index finger into my mouth, wetting it well.
“Do it,” is all I say and she takes her hand away and slowly slides her finger into my waiting ass. In three or four slow pumps down her throat, I am ready to explode. She pulls her nose back away from my crotch and lays my cock head on her tongue so I can watch my hot excitement fill her mouth. I feel her eyes on mine, anticipating.
When she has taken it all and cleaned me off. I pull her standing by her long, soft hair, kiss a few stray drops from her lips and reach down between her legs. Under her short skirt her thin lace panties are drenched and easily move aside as I slip two fingers into her. We stare into each others eyes as she begins to move against my hand in slow undulating motion. Her eyes glaze over and I feel her shift her body weight against me, her arms around my neck becoming heavy. As her breathing quickens, she tightens her grip around my fingers and I sense a long wave of release coursing slowly up her body, followed quickly by a succession of repeated involuntary spasms. She never closes her eyes though they get thinner and nearly shut a couple of times. When she is sated, we lean heavily against the wall.
The ambient light which had dimmed and seemed tinged in red from a small window above us, now took on a warm but brighter glow. I hear the Asian women giggling and whispering behind us. I slide down onto the bench, my date never takes her arms from around my neck, eyes now shut, breathing slowly as if she is practically sleeping. I cradle her in my arms.
One of the women walks towards us and with a steaming dark towel gently wipes our hands while the other does the same to my cock, still protruding from my fly. She gently tucks me back in and zips me up. They leave us alone in the room.
p.o.v. is now third person/camera man…
I walk out of the room, carrying the woman in my arms. The girl at the front counter scurries quickly to open the front door. We are again on the same dark street vague traces of purple dawn showing themselves from around the corners of buildings.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
GAME PLAN #2
You wait for my call. I say one word. "NOW." You run to the shower hose yourself down wash your ass especially well because tonight it is mine. Make sure you lube it up your well before you leave the house. You might even want to toss a couple of fingers in there in the shower to get used to the idea. You will drink a bottle of water while you are getting ready and one en route to my house. I want you to feel full. I want you in an expendable wife-beater or old button up shirt. No fucking bra this time unless you plan on having it cut off of you. In fact, I want you in a plaid schoolgirl skirt. Dog collar. Drive to my house dressed this way. Do not be late but do not speed. I don’t want the police to get their hands on you like last time. Pull your car into the neighborhood and park up the street. Come to my front door. Knock three times. Wait 60 seconds and knock again. Open the front door. I will not answer. Slowly come inside. Call out, “Hello...anyone home? I’m lost...Can I use your phone?” Ask for directions. You got off at the wrong bus stop and don't know where you are. I will grab you from behind and take you then and there as I wish. You will definitely be at my beck and call. While you are still dressed and freshly fucked, you will crawl into the bathroom where I will piss on you in the bathtub and then you on my cock. You will then be led upstairs, punished and fucked heartily. Then I will order you to lick my ass and fuck me slowly with my strap-on, first on my stomach, whispering into my ear what an asshole I was and how you love fucking my ass...then you roll me on my back so I can stare into your eyes and slap your tits while you slide that hard cock in and out of me... Nice start for an evening you think? Perhaps a bit of ESPN or Matlock and a bite to eat instead? Don't fucking push it. You are mine and I am yours.
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