Tying and Topping

I was in a mood.

Let me correct that. I became in a mood.

I was sitting at my local friendly Starbucks looking through A4A, Scruff, Grindr, Recon….you name it, because I wanted to suck cock….or maybe take it up the pooper. But the sex gods were not with me this day. At least the top ones.

The ones who wanted me to top were working overtime. The more frustrated I became with not getting any for me, the more I started to think I should go fuck someone else. Things weren’t looking good when I got rejected by 2-3 people who could have done a LOT worse than myself. Fuck You Very Much.

One I wasn’t really targeting hit me up. The pic was intriguing and he had on mirrored sunglasses which always makes a man look hotter. He said he’s there to serve real men – nothing off limits and he’d do whatever I said. I have found this to be untrue, time and time again. It’s not that I ever go to extremes, but hell, many times you can’t find a guy who can, or will, actually swallow every inch and every drop.

And at this point, I didn’t want my white gold going in a mouth.

He also asked if I was rough. I told him I could hold my own. He said he’d be ready in 30 minutes. I said, make it 20. And he was – like a good faggot.

He was older, and less attractive than his picture. His body was sub-par, but it’s not like I was going to fucking date him. Or even get to know his name. The apartment was……..unfortunate. Four rooms with many many many displayed action figures. I get that people collect them. I do. But………when your grown-man bedspread is Batman symbols…….it’s a little sad, unless you’re Sheldon Cooper….which you’re not.

And it must have been 90 degrees in the apartment. Mind you it was 20 out, but with coat and sweatshirt on, I immediately broke a sweat. He was only in briefs – neon green ones that I could see he had roped off his balls and cock. He led me back to his bedroom and I immediately got him on his knees. He was begging for my cock, but I wasn’t there yet. I made him gnaw through my jeans. I slapped the side of his face – HARD. It got a groan, albeit a happy one. You could tell he loved it. That was a shame for me. I didn’t want him to like it at all.

Like I said – I was in a mood.

I did release my cock. I wasn’t letting him touch it or access it just yet, though I wouldn’t hold out too long. He was a decent cocksucker. He could take it. He could take it all. He didn’t struggle too too much as I held him down on it for extended periods of time, never easing up on my grip.

He had bad knees (amateur) and was soon on his bed, head hanging over it, while I deep-dicked him from above. Again, very good skills. He whimpered like a faggot in need. I know the sound all too well. And I face fucked him good and hard too. I was kind of amazed at the power at which I was providing my cock.

I had already spied an open box on a chair across the room. A small toy chest if you will. So when pulling my cock out of his throat, I walked over to it. I owned the room. He said he’d do whatever I said – right?

In the box was some rope, a number of dildos and a few other things like cockrings, etc. I grabbed the rope.

Now, I was never a boy scout and short of tying my own shoe/boot laces and a neck tie, I’m not trained in the art of the knot. But what the fuck – I’d give it a try. He was faced down on the bed, I walked around and bound his hands. The rope went around both wrists multiple times. I wrapped them tight. I triple knotted them.

I made the rookie mistake of binding his hands in front of him – but more on that in a bit.

I went back and secured one leg to his bedframe – underneath the box springs. Then I turned my attention back to his box of tricks. Both dildos were black. One was big. One was basically the size of a 12 year old’s arm. I started with that one.

The stupid fucker had no lube. I mean, WTF? He is on-line wanting to bottom, needs lube other than spit (or so he said) and has none? Since he was tied up, I went into his kitchen and found his olive oil. When I came back, the asshole was snorting poppers. This meant, he got out of one restraint. He said the rope was cutting into him. I reminded him that he was the one who said he’d do ‘whatever I wanted’. I wanted him bound, but I’m not a complete asshole. You ask to be untied or have it adjusted.

So now I WAS in a mood.

The idea had been to start with the smaller (but still large) dildo. Now I opted for the extra large one. And I could have been nice about it. I poured the olive oil on it generously. But I did it over the bed. Like I gave a fuck at this point if a mess was to be made. Then I rammed it in.

Well, I rammed it about 4” in. That mother was fucking thick. As accepting as his hole was, or wanted to be, the thickness of that fucking dildo was a little much. And since I’m not a complete asshole (no, really, It’s true!), I switched back to the smaller one. Since his hole was olive-oiled up, I didn’t do anything with this one….and just pushed it up his cunt. And dildo-fucked it for a bit. Then I just withdrew and slammed in the big one. It didn’t go all in, but a fuck of a lot more than 4”.

He groaned like a little bitch.

It didn’t stop me. I didn’t slow to assess if it was a good or bad groan. I didn’t care. I was in a mood. I used that arm-sized dildo on his hole for a bit. He muffled any complaints he may have had.

Truth be told, I grew bored with the toy play. I extracted the dildo and shoved my cock up there. As big as I think my cock is, between the dildo play and his well-used ass, there wasn’t tons of traction, but it was a warm hole. It didn’t take me long to get off.

I hadn’t shot for a while, so I provided a big deposit. I made little noise. I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction if it felt good to me. I was providing my own pleasure more than he was giving it to me.

As he lay there, I got dressed. I told him to stay put. I zipped up, buttoned up and walked out. Never to return.