I moved from the big city to a little tourist town in the mountains. I am single, running a martial arts school and very virile in my late 30s. I am used to a steady parade of incredibly sexy men and boys who see my confident, 6’5 frame, in charge personality, get a hold of my thick cock and want to be conquered by a Viking. I am a top, and I like to be in charge. I like to be the one who is in control of the situation, and I like to be the one who is in control of the man. I get off on getting men and especially total tops to give themselves up to me - wanting me to be in control, in charge, in them, and foxusing on my pleasure. It really made me cum and feel like a fucking stud when I looked down at a hot stud - sometimes a married man - in disbilief with my big dick cumming deep inside him and him having hands-free cum all over his belly, chest, face and hair in a way he hadn’t in years.
Well, a little town not-far-enough in the mountains from LA to prevent all the gay men from leaving for the bright lights was a little different. Closet cases. MUCH older married men. Not the pickings I was used to.
So when Tom the Farmer hit me up on one of the apps, and was very impressed with my cock and fat nuts and attitude, and he showed me his country worked farm body, and told me how much he wanted to spend time worshipping my cock, I was in. I had absolutley no idea how that was every going to go.
We talked back and forth and I kept getting chub as he sent me pictures of his muscular body, his open mouth, his tongue, and telling me how excited he was to get to be on his knees and worship my meat. I fucking ate it up. The grooming started small. We talked about music. He liked the dark punk/metal band Skinny Puppy and said he loved to listen to it while he got to spend time with cock, and asked if I could have it on. I was downloading it before I responded “sure, man, SP is great” even though I’d never heard them.
I didn’t realize he’d ju, st objectified me. Not worshipping me, not servicing ME, servicing my big balls. Servicing my cock from soft to getting ITS load in his belly as a prize. Like any good dom, he was turning me into an object to be used for his pleasure.
The day got closer and he said how he liked the scent of a clean man, and could I take a bath with eucalyptus before he came over. Sure I could. I had bath salts from the hard workouts I did, so it was an easy thing to do. For him. To worship my dick.
Then he said he’d seem a pic of me in my profile in a kilt - a tan canvas thing with pockets. He wondered if I could please wear the kilt, and talked in ways that got me hard in my pants about sliding his hands up my muscular thighs and over my balls, and then cupping my cock in his hands. It got me hot and stupid. It had been way too long since a dude has serviced my meat and I needed it. Already I was doing 3 services for him, setting myself up for him.
The day of, I’d held off jerking off for like 4 days and the wind was starting to get me boned up. He messaged me in the app, still too shy to give me his phone number. He said he was getting his truck ready to make a delivery in town and he was excited to see me just a little bit after dark at my house. He said he was going to be in his work clothes, and that he was going to be a little dirty from the farm work. Should he find a place to shower, but hinted he liked the idea of me being clean and nearly naked and him being dirty at my feet. I would agree to anything. What the fuck did I care if he was rubbing my sore muscles and sucking my dick.
“One last thing - I hope i’m not being too much of a pain,” he was, but I needed this. Maybe more than Farmer man did. (When had I stopped thinking of him as ‘boy’?). He wondered if I could wait for him in my living room in nothing but a kilt. He wondered if I could have all the lights off and after he came in and stripped by the light of a candle if I could put on a blindfold and relax while he worked. Well, that sounded fucking great, so I was already scrounding up a big candle and moving some stuff around my living room so he’d see my kilt and legs in the candlelight, and I could see his hot muscles as he disrobed for me.
He had me panting, and doing all these things for him. But I was in charge…
The night came. It was spring. The air outside was cool, but the day had been warm. There was a big candle on a side table. My warm fur, slightly sweaty from getting ready was on full display. My feet were bare on the warm hardwood. My back was slick against the leather couch. I had a scotch that I’d drunk a couple inches of. Why was I nervous? This guy was here to service me. I wanted him to like me. I wanted him to keep coming back even though we’d never met. My cock kept standing up under my kilt and then laying back down when I forded myself to think about other things.
The music was dark and thuddy. The lyrics were inaudbile but they set a dark throb in the dimly lit room.
Then he was there. Taller than I expected - not my height, but broad-shouldered, his shape a nince square in the shadow against the sky outside. He stepped inside and I could feel his eyes hot on me, possessive. He murmured a positive sound. He took off his shoes and put them by the door. He sat on the small chair and removed his socks. He had big pink size 14s - bigger than my runner’s feet. He pulled off his flannel and the smell of man scent had my dick chubbing up. I felt the big pink circles of my nipples stiffen as he pulled his shirt off: alabaster skin, no body hair except armpits and a little pale triangle between his meaty pecs. His body wasn’t gym sculpted - it was work solid. No V, but a big square with round shoulders wider than his hips. He stood up and I wished he would turn around, but he leaned over and lowered his jeans to his feet. His dark eyes under his brown curly hair were on me as he neatly folded his jeans and shirts and placed them on his dusty boots. he had big hands, big fingers, tanned with work. There was a nice bulge on both sides in his tighty-whities.
He hooked his thumbs in his white underwear and pushed them down. Everything below the waist was white river foam pale and full of beautiful curves and angles. Full alls, nice curve of shower cock - uncircumcised - above his lightly furry nuts. The rounds of his perfect lightly hairy bubble butt made me want to jump up, pin him against the wall and shove my cock in his hole. I would normally have gotten up and undressed a boy. Made him feel his service to me. But this was a man come to “service” me. I waited on the couch. He stood for a long moment, then turned around. I growled low when I could see the deep fuzzy cleeft between his big pale butt cheeks. He made no sound but walked over to me, and lowered himself to his knees. He lowered his face so the curls of his hair hid his eyes but showed me his wide strong jaw covered in five-o’clock shadow. He smelled like clean sweat and hay. I needed him to touch me, to stroke me, to suck me, to work my sensitive nipples and take my cum down this throat. My big fat balls were churning slowly in their sack. I was glad I didn’t leak precum cuz my kilt would be fucking soaking.
He lowered himself like a yogi to the ground in front of me, his plump cock hardening as he sat down. A deep sigh ran through him as he put his big hands on my huge muscular thighs. His hands were a little rough and very warm. His touch was ginger. He slowly ran his finger tips down through the hair on my quads, down to the edge of my inner thighs. Goose bumps rose on my bare shoulders. He continued the wrong way, but I didn’t protest. past my knees and down my knotted furry calves and to my feet.
He stroked his strong rough hands over the sides of my feet. He picked both my feet up and held the bottoms and squeezed. It was weirdly comforting and I breathed out and relaxed back into the couch. God I was loving this and it was so not what I was expecting. He went kneading back up my shins and took some time to really squeeze and massage my calves. As i relaxed I saw his cock standing up in his crotch, ignored - longer than mine, but not as thick. With his hands in my brain and his cock in my thoughts I sighed and leaned back into the couch. Languid, I put my arms up over my hand and covered my eyes with one forearm. I could feel the excitement of me doing that in his hands as they slid to cup the back of my knees - not pressing, but holding intently. I shudderingly sighed - there was something so delicious about it, and kind of… weird? I felt like something forbidden was happening, and it felt so damn good.
He workec his big hands up my bulging quads, giving them intense attention. I groaned aloud several times. I ached for him to kiss my lips where I lay flaoting, thinking about his cock, about my cock, floating on the dark pulse of the music. I imagined laying down for him naked, relaxing. It was arousing in some deep place that didn’t quite reach my cock, but had my whole body loosening up. I never wanted him to stop.
The thick fingernails of his hand scratched their way through my pubic hair and pressed against my pubis over my chubbed cock. I hadn’t been hard in a few and I had somehow forgotten about my cock. It twitched and I sort of willed it to get hard for him, but it was staying at half mast. His other hand stroked the creases between my crotch and my legs. Stroking along the muscle there, and the fur, brushing my big ball sack. I moaned. He made a happy sound in his throat.
He wrapped up my big balls and tugged speculatively at them. I groaned in pleasure and he pressed against my pubis and worked my fat nuts down in their sack, circled them with his thumb and forefinger (no mean feat!) and gave them a few more tugs. I grunted happily. I could feel his arm against my hairy leg as he leaned closer. I wanted - no needed - him to take my dick in his mouth. Too bad I don’t leak, I’d be soiling my kilt. Instead he licked my balls, the skin pulled all tight. Took them in his mouth and gave them a good wash with his tongue. I moaned and groaned and my dick in fits and starts jumped to attention.
He let go of my nuts and taped them experimentally from underneath. It felt good. He did it a little more, a little more energetically. It made my dick wave like crazy and my balls started to churn in their sack. Spurred on, he kept smacking my fat nuts - just stoft enough to be pleasurable. God, and what a strange pleasure, but it was starting to feel like a climax was building. I moaned and dropped down on the couch to give him more access to my nuts. He kept going, and I started to groan loudly and roll my hips, trying to grind my cock against something. Just as I was starting to revv up the ramp to cum, he stopped and took my nuts in his hand, pulling them down firmly. It was a painful sensation, but it also felt so fucking good. “Fuuuck, man,” I moaned. He chuckled.
Then his hot breath was finally on my cock. Using my balls as a lever, he pulled my cock to point a little forward. My entire body was tingling, and the urge to cum had receded just to the edge o getof my awareness, and my cock got diamond hard. He breathed up and down the length of my cock, using my balls to keep me still and my cock the position he wanted. My dick was throbbing, trying to get more blood into itself. Quickly, he enveloped just the head of my cock. His mouth was hot and his tongue was pushing against my sensitive glans, driving the sensitivity through the roof. I started breathing hard. He locked his lips just under the crown of my fat pink dick - I’m sure gone red-purple from how engorged it was.
He pulled off my cock for a second and I couldn’t contain my groan of disappointment. He squeezed my pulled-down balls and that changed. I felt him looking at my crotch which felt hot but also… strange. I was used to being the one admiring a boy as he took my dick. I kept my arm over my eyes. He slid his hot lips back down onto my cock and locked his lips just under the mushroom crown. He started to suck - not sliding up and down but actually creating suction. He stopped pressing against my pubis and wrapped his other hand around the shaft. He started sucking rhythmically - increasing the pressure until it kind of hurt and then letting it off, where he’d squeeze my shaft in little pulses and then hard with his other hand. SUCK… release. SQUEEZE… release. It was unfamiliar but I fucking loved it, raising my ass a little off the kilt, and grabbing a handfull of the couch behind my head. “fuuuuuuu” I moaned. It spurred him on. SUCK SUCK… release… Squeeeze SQUEEEZE SUCK. It was so intense, but with my balls pulled down even though orgasm was burning in me like a gas fire, I tried to tense, but couldn’t cum. His rough, farm-strong hands held my balls down and away from my body in a way that would not allow it.
It was driving me crazy. He was like a machine - I imagined him milking his cows just the same - or milking one of his bulls. I was sweating in the cooling room. I was desperate to cum and something about not being able to made it even hotter. SUCK SUCK SQUEEEEEZE… release.. SQUEEZESUCK … HARDER… release. My cock literally ached with how hard it was, how hard my heartbeat hammered at my shaft and head, trying to fling cum like a machine gun. He let go of my balls and pressed again on my pubic bone. SLowly, his hot mouth desceneded my cock, taking it all to the root. I felt his tongue wrap my haed, my shaft. I felt the clutching circle of muscle at the back of his throat taking my fully engorged cock and massage it.
He reversed, pulling all the way off my cock, sucking harder as he rose. It came out of his mouth with a pop and a surprised grunt from me. I tried to lunge forward but he pushed me hard into the couch with pressure on my pubis. That was so fuckin hot. His mouth encircled my head and crawled down my shaft. At the bottom, he used his trapped tongue on my shaft and flexed his throat musscles on my dick like an olympian. Just as I was about to work into orgasm, he was up my shaft and POP it was cool in the open air. Then hot again, down the shaft. Fuuuuuck. I didn’t know why I couldn’t bring myself to grab his ears and skullfuck him. I let him keep teasing me. Jesus he was hungry. And he was GOOD at this. Up. Pop. Slowly sucking his way down, clenching his throat muscles. He would sense the edge of orgasm and POP.
I was just steadily moaning and my whole body just gave up. Sweating, groaning more or less constantly, the tension ran out of me and I seemed to be swallowed up by the couch so I was only the literal rising ache in my cock and his hot mouth and the pressure of his hand holding me to the couch. This could go on forever. Maybe I wanted it to…?
He sensed my sudden surrender, and he sucked hard, flexing his throat deep, moving his hand to push even deeper throat parts over my cock. Then he tapped my tight balls. Once. Twice. THIRD TIME HARD.
I came like a trained bear. it felt like my cum hit his throat like a fastball - 90mps. Like a firehose on full. I shook over my whole body, sweaty running, abs cruching, pleasure exploding from my balls to my cock up my spine, detonating in my head. Three, four, five, six… 9 times I pulsed into his throat, i think.
by the time I got to my senses, I was slick against the couch in a pool of sweat. He was sitting on the little chair by the door, pushing his feet into his boots. He laced them and stood up - no sign of what he had jsut done for me… to me. I was slack-jawed with pleasure, and some craving I couldn’t name. I stared at him. He smiled to me in the candle light. “Thanks,” he said in his deep voice. “See you next month,” and then the screen door was banging. His car was starting, and the crunch of gravel recorded his departure.
I sat up. My left foot was sticky. I looked down and there were ropes of cum on my left shin, foot, on the front of the leather couch, dripping into a little puddle of white cum under my foot. Had he cum hands-free getting me off?
In the throbbing twilight of my living room where I used to be a king, I said out loud in my deep belly voice. “What the fuck? And why do I want to jerk off … right now?”