He wanted to fuck. That's cool. I wanted to be fucked.
He was a little stocky, but not fat. Balding, but who cares? His dick was a solid 7" and cut.
I mention the cut part because of all the cocks I have seen - and yes, that has been a few! - I've never seen such a change in pigment at the circumcision mark.
The man (I didn't get a name) did not appear to be mixed race. His skin was as pink as mine, but below the area he was cut, it was very very brown. Yet the top part of his shaft and his head was white white white. Go figure.
While we were "chatting" before meeting, he slipped in something about watersports. I said I had tried it and it all seemed ok. I didn't say anything about wanting to learn more about them, but I'm not a huge participant in the activity.
Once in his apartment, he said, "strip and get in the tub". ...and I did.
I got in the tub and knelt.
He came in and balanced himself standing on either edge or the tub. And he must have been fucking hydrating all day. I know I've pissed this much, I but I can't tell you when. It just never fucking stopped.
He hit my face, the top of my head and then worked his way down: neck, chest, arms, crotch and my thighs.
When he was finally done, he told me to rinse off and left the room. I did as instructed. I exited the bathroom to find him in his living room laying on the couch.
He told me to stand next to the couch while he looked me over. He touched my legs, my cock and my balls. Then he grabbed my balls and twisted. And kept twisting, every now and then looking up for a reaction.
I try not to say 'no' in these situations and to take it like a man. We never discussed this or a 'safe word', but I powered through it - at least this time. I got slight praise for how I came through the process.
I rubbed him a little - all over. I went down and licked his nuts. His request. I sucked his cock with his guidance and moved back to his asshole on my own, but without any protest. He loved my tongue up his beefy ass.
He told me to sit up on the couch and I did. Out of nowhere (seemingly), he pulled out an already folded black bandanna. "Put this over your eyes". I did. I double knotted it for good measure. I could seen nothing.
He took me and guided me back into a reclined position.
Somewhere hidden, at least to me, he took things out of a bag. He started to fool with my chest and it while I didn't say 'no', I expressed concern that he was going to do something to my nipples. With toys.
I mentioned I don't like clamps or the likes on my nipples and he immediately backed off.
I know what you're all thinking. I love having my tits played with and I do. I don't like it extremely hard and I've had clamps on before. They're ok, but not great and the pain taking them off is just bad - at least for me.
Down near my junk, he did start doing things to me. Clamps, I'm assuming. I couldn't see. I knew enough not to ask. He didn't bother to tell.
Whatever it was went around my dick, maybe on it. On my balls. Below them too. And maybe onto my ass. I would later find out, the only thing he would admit to, is putting clamps on the lips of my asshole.
They did not hurt going on, but I could feel them. But soon, he went back to abusing my balls and my dick. With each twist, whatever he secured onto my skin began to set my crotch on fire from within and emanating out.
This went on for quite sometime. I might have grimaced (I know I did). I might have even said 'ouch', but I never told him to stop. I never told him 'no'. I'm not sure if that was to show him how much of a man I was, or to show myself.
"Take a deep breath and hold it". I did. "Now let it out". I did. And when I did he unhooked a clamp. We repeated this process over at least a half dozen times.
Honestly, I could not tell where on my body he was removing them. The burning was very diffused, not localized at all.
I do remember one of the last ones making my back arch up as I responded to the pain. Nothing came out of my mouth. He asked if I was alright and I gave an affirmative answer.
Still blindfolded, he helped me up and moved me over to another area, where he put me on my knees. I could sense he was sitting in front of me and I was to go suck his dick. Like a homing radar, I found it in the first try.
We did that for a while. More ball-licking then more ass eating. Then more sucking.
Only then did he take off the blindfold.
"Sit on my cock".
There were two rubbers in reach of him, but he never looked at them and never made an attempt to snag one, let alone put it on. Nor did he ask.
His cock was wet with my spit. I wet my hole up with my own spit. But that and the angle wasn't working the way either of us wanted.
"Grab the lube over there", which was on top of a shelf. I slicked him up. I slicked me up. I slowly jacked his cock, making him possibly harder than before, but I didn't want to manipulate his cock too much. I didn't want him close. Not this way.
I sat on the dick. It felt great. He told me to lean back as far as I could, which bent his cock in my confined hole. It felt better to him than it did to me, but isn't that the point?
I rode him and he fucked me for a few minutes - maybe 5.
He pulled out. "Get back in the tub".
I did. I knelt. He straddled. He let go with another enormous amount of piss. It was at least as much as the first time.
Again. Head, face, chest, crotch and even my extended tongue. I wasn't fond of the heat more than the taste. I don't drink coffee even, can you tell?
"Show me your ass". I did. I stood up, parted he my cheeks and he pissed on my asshole. As soon as he was done, he shoved his cock up my ass.
With my head against the tiles, he pounded me for almost 10 minutes.
With a roar, he came up my ass. I could feel him throb. If he came 1/10th of what he pissed, my guts would be flooded - and they were.
Eventually, but not immediately, he slipped out.
"On your knees".
Once again, I was down, he stood in the tub and pissed all over me once more. Not as much as the first two times, but fuck, I was surprised he had anymore in him to begin with.
When he was done he held out his cock for me. I cleaned him off.
We both rinsed off and then changed.
He walked out with me, purposefully taking the stairs. He told me part way down he wanted me to feel what he had done to me.
I could still feel the twinges from the clamps and my twisted sac. He told me I'd be feeling it again tomorrow, and I did.
He said he'd invite me back. I'm still waiting. ......and hoping.