My finger deep inside that Marine ass, I felt his hole gripping it, pulling it in even deeper. To the knuckle. My tongue was still jammed in his mouth. Now, though, he had surrendered completely and was sucking it like it was my cock.
This scene in the Marine’s hotel room was, in a word, intoxicating to me. It’s ironic but the very strict parameters of this role play ‒ him the stud pussy boy, me the commanding dad/sergeant ‒ put me more at ease than I am in most ordinary hook-ups. There was none of that ongoing uncertainty of how to be, how personal to get, how much to humanize the fucking, if at all. It was entirely an erotic act. And, as he was plenty hot enough and as I was plenty pissed enough by his earlier, ‘so there’ attitude, motivation wasn’t an issue.
I was also learning with every passing moment, like an actor feeling his character more with every line. Everything was up to me, I realized, and the longer I made him wait for anything at all, the harder his cock got. So I pulled my tongue out of his mouth and my finger out of his ass. His hands loosely bound by the boxers I’d slipped around his wrists, he struggled to get off his back and on his knees.
I stood before him, my dripping cockhead just an inch or two from his face. He craned his head forward and I pulled back, calling him a cock-hungry pussy again and letting him know he’d get my meat when I wanted to give it. If I decided to give it at all.
Moving to a chair, I sprawled in it and spread my legs. I looked hard at him: shaved jarhead, hairy, beefy pecs, hot abs, thick muscled thighs, cock arched and up. “How many men have fucked you, you cunt?” This was improv. But I sensed he wanted to be shamed.
“Some, sir.” Did I want him to have been a whore? He wasn’t sure, and the uneasiness made him flustered. On this, I relented a bit. “Better not be too many, cunt. I don’t like sloppy pussies.”
“No. No, sir, not many, sir. I’m tight for you, sir.”
“Who fucked you first, bitch?”
“Two buddies of mine in the corps, sir.”
“They took your cherry together?”
“Yes, sir. We were all fucked up, sir. It was a crazy night, sir.”
I looked at him with a complete poker face. This was wonderfully surreal, not only a decent porn flick but one starring me. My hand slowly moved up and down on my cock. “Get your cunt ass up on the bed. On your back. Show me how you opened your whore legs for them, boy.” It wasn’t easy without hands but he made it upright and to the bed, like I told him to. He held his head up, to see me. Looking at this stud laid out exactly like I wanted, his hairy balls resting on the bed, his thick cock pointed to the ceiling, his hard pink nipples doing likewise ‒ I was loving it because I could take all the time I wanted in appreciating the moment. I loved it because I knew that making him wait was making it that much better for him.
Going to him, I moved to his side and pinched his nipple, lightly at first, then kind of rough. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. I set my stiff cock on his pec, then pushed it down hard on his nipple. His lips parted in pleasure. Damn, I was falling in love. No, no. Had to remember: this is a game and I’m the boss.
I got up and went to the V of his open stud legs. It was going to be soon, so I grabbed a condom on the way. As I slipped it on, I asked, “You fuck girls, boy?”
“Yes, sir. I was married, sir.” His ass was starting to heave up in a rhythm as he watched me wrap my cock. I didn’t look at his face; my eyes were fixed on what I could see under his balls. My dick sheathed, I lifted his thighs up more. “But this is what you are, isn’t it? A waiting cunt. A cum dump.”
“YES. Sir. That’s all I am, sir.”
I aimed and pushed in. He hadn’t been kidding in his e-mail earlier, even though he’d been obnoxious about it; he’d just been fucked. Not too loose, he was still slick from the last lubed cock in there. I held off mid-way and his back arched, his whole body suspended and anticipating more. Leaning over I gripped both his nipples. “You want more cock?”
“All of it, please. Please, sir. Fuck me like the pussy I am.” His eyes were shut tight, his lips pulled in a grimace. Well, he may have been plowed before me but I was still pretty thick. I shoved in all the way, feeling his nuts hit my lower gut, feeling him use his asshole to grip and milk me. His face was suddenly a picture of pure peace, even as he started panting. He opened his eyes to look at me and, fucking him in a measured, deep rhythm, I tried to look as smilingly evil as I could. And I gave him what else he needed: a stream of filth.
“Fuck, yeah. What a sweet cunt you are, boy. Gonna make this pussy mine, make you my cum dump. Keep you bare-assed at home for me, like a bitch whore. Feed you cum, fill your pussy with it, all the time…” He was rocking now, edging his way nearer to me, his legs widening, the soles of his big feet to the ceiling. Then I discovered I was losing control. My own dirty rantings were getting to me, too.
“Cum with me, bitch.” I cupped my palm over his wet cockhead, rubbing it, then furiously pumping the shaft. “Fuck, now, you fucking pussy. I said, cum!” With that, I felt my load wash over my dick in the condom. It had been a while ‒ that sensation alone kept the cum shooting out of me. And my Marine? He obeyed. His hips jerked up, taking me with him, and as soon as the first spurt flew I covered his slit with my hand. Drove him crazier. Gasping and bucking wildly, he released a pretty heavy load, most of which I made sure slathered down his own meat.
Sweaty and spent, I pulled out and took the rubber off. Then I wiped up some of my load from it and smeared it on his lips. Gently. “Stay where you are, bitch,” I ordered. Then I got a towel from the bathroom, wiped myself off, dressed, and left. I didn’t say another word. Better this way. Let him remember that I never dropped character, even after the fucking.
I ended up walking about a mile before a late bus came by. I didn’t care. This was just a bonus, the amazing, secretly dirty feeling of cum on your dick as you ride public transport. It was as good for me as the satisfaction of knowing I had gotten that wise-ass’ ass, after all.
The lesson? To all writers and other self-employed-at-home dudes: learn from me. When your dick is calling as the sun is rising, rub one out and then get to work. Relax in the knowledge that your little friend will be stiff again by dusk. Or…just go for it, if a stud Marine needs to be taught a lesson himself.
Jack's new book, M4M: For an Hour, or Forever - The Gay Man's Guide to Finding Love Online is out and it looks great! Check out excerpts and more at [extern url='http://www.amazon.com/M4M-Forever-Guide-Finding-Online/dp/1416940723/sr=8-1/qid=1172579812/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/002-1055302-1892010?ie=UTF8&s=books' target='_blank' text='M4M']."
You can write to Jack directly - at [extern url='http://www.jackmauro.com' target='_blank' text='www.jackmauro.com'].