It started innocently enough. These things always do. I was out of town on my first solo business trip. You know what I mean. The kind where you have stuff to do in the daytime but are completely unchaperoned at night. No coworkers to go drinking with, no drunk karaoke, no shitty meals in hotel restaurants. Instead, whatever I want it to be. I wanted it to be sex, hot sex.
I did a quick search of the Internet and found that there would be four gay bars in town with two of them near my hotel. I did my research here. It’s not enough anymore that a bar be gay, it has to be the right flavor of gay. You know what I mean, Twink, Bear, Jock, etc. And if you don’t want something specific, want it all, or don’t know what you want, you’re SOL. Of the two near me, one was a drag bar, the other a leather bar. Now, truth in point, I was looking for a jock/bro bar but the only bar like that was on the other side of town. I decided right out of the gate to try the leather bar first. If it sucked, I could travel later or the next night and cut my losses.
I put on my worn jock, some tight jeans, a graphic T-shirt, work boots, and a flannel shirt. I hadn’t packed a leather jacket but I do have a secret weapon. I always travel with an armband, leather wrist cuffs, and a pair of leather motorcycle gloves. You know the kind, short, tight, sexy. The great thing about being jacked is that you can go into any leather bar and with any one of those things it’s enough. The body does the rest. Sometimes I think any more than that is trying too hard. Plus, gear can slow you down at airport security. You guys get it, the choices we make, right? I stuff the gloves in my back pocket in case I feel like I need them.
So, I show up and it’s actually going. Not jumping, but not dead either. I sauntered in and had the room right out of the gate. Now, before you think I’m just conceited, keep in mind that I’m new meat…a lot of it. I think you could have walked through that door looking like crap and if you were an unknown quantity, you’d get attention. Of course, I also didn’t look like crap. A little about me. I’m 6’ and about 200lbs. I’m jacked and handsome with a 30” waist connecting a very muscled upper and lower body. I’m also very well-hung, which has been a huge benefit to me all my adult life. I’m in my mid-twenties and while there’s not a wrinkle on my face, I do not look like a boy. I’m a man all the way through and nobody makes a mistake there…well, except this guy, tonight. As soon as I saddle up to the bar and get a beer, I notice an older guy checking me out a little more aggressively than the rest. I kinda dig that.
He’s hot and his heavy cruise is not creepy. It’s more like he’s a motivated shopper. I smiled faintly. It’s pretty clear he’s into me and desperate to impress me, but a true alpha doesn’t seek approvals. The fact he was trying only proved he could be had and had hard. That’s not really my thing.
Still, if nothing else materialized, he’s an option. I see that he has a posse of boys too. Don’t need to take him down here. Not in front of his boys and in public. That’s disrespectful. I knew that, once I was done with him, he might never be the same around his “ boys”. In my experience when a top falls, he’s never quite the same with guys he’s bottomed. My guess is that they’ll figure it out and turn on him. My other guess is that when they do, he’ll love every second of being punked by them. But as I said, at this point, I’m still shopping.
I move around the room and find a place to sand off to the side of the bar. Right away, some guy comes over and chats me up. Nice guy, younger than me, but not particularly well built—more of a Twink with confidence. So, we chat for a while and the whole time I’m still getting checked out by others, especially this older guy from the bar…still. For convenience, Let’s call him Leather Daddy. I continue talking to the Twink for a bit and his friends join after a few more. I talk to them for the appropriate amount of time and then excuse myself to look around. They are a bit dejected but understand. I make a round of the bar and talk to a few other guys, but there really isn’t anything I want here, and if there’s nothing I want, why am I here? I decided to call it a night and as I was getting ready to head out, Leather Daddy came over.
“Hey man, you’re not leaving, are you?”
“Well, yeah….I was thinking about it.”
“Naw, stay, let me get you another beer.”
He had a sparkle in his eye and something that said he was more than average. I took him up on his offer.
“Ok, sure, Stella.”
“You bet, be right back.
Now, I kept an eye on him. You do not want to find yourself roofied (or worse), so I watched as he got the beer, paid, and brought it over. Looked clean. But then I saw he had also brought shots.
“I’m not a big shot guy.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure. You look like a guy who does not drink much.” He yelled. “I mean, fuck, you look like ur made of marble,” he said with more than a hint of hunger in his voice.
From the nervous grin on his face, I could tell he was more than interested. “Thanks. Yeah, I train heavy and alcohol can fuck up training.”
“Or help it.” He grinned, happy with his double entendre. I realized here that while he was not a guy to roofie, he might be a guy to use alcohol as an aid.
“Cummon, let’s celebrate.” He cajoled.
Internally, I rolled my eyes at this clown. “Ok man, gimme one,” I said and we toasted, side by side.
Now, he was right, working out is important to me and I have put in serious work on my body, so drinking is a no-no in general, and random drunkenness all the more so. This guy was pushing, but he also was pretty jovial. He didn’t feel sinister, and he was drinking too. We were standing in a dim corner, and I knew there was a trash can behind me. When we did our shots, I threw mine over my shoulder and the contents went into the trash. No harm, no foul. He grinned at me as he took the empty glasses away, completely unaware that I was avoiding his attempt to get me wasted.
“Nice. Thanks for putting up with me.”
“No worries man.”
Now, he was not hard to look at. About 5’9”, maybe 185, lean, and in good shape. Hairy, but not offensively so. Nice eyes and a solid stubble beard. You know, the kind that’s so perfect he could be a colt model. He was dressed in jeans and boots also, but then a harness and vest. To top it off he had a muir hat on. At any rate, I’m watching this guy and he’s got a very nice ass and I’m thinking, what the fuck, this could be fun. But I also realize he’s thinking the same thing about me.
Now, some guys think about dominance in terms of size, and some guys think of dominance in terms of age. And then some guys use wealth, or class, or personality type, or dick size… it's a fricken cornucopia of ideas that need to be ironed out, usually with no words, in just a few minutes. I’m sure this guy thought that a jacked guy with a nice ass and solid bulge was just the thing to be his next conquest. Something to add to his collection, but I was thinking very much the same thing about him.
Now, this is a guy who can get away with showing his dominance by just hanging back and going with the flow. Less is more here, but instead, and possibly because he feels the need to show off, he’s bragging. He’s TOP bragging. This kind of thing always gets my heart rate up because I love to take down guys who think they are tops. Or are about to be former tops. But the more they brag the more I’m into it. I’m just hanging back and watching….and really, listening to the story of Leather Daddy. What he likes and what he’s into.
“See that guy over there?”
“Yeah, hot guy.”
“He’s one of my boys. I have 3 in this town. They were not easy to break but took them down.” He tells me. Obviously trying to impress me.
“Yeah? I like the big one.”
“Yeah, he’s the cream of the crop. My biggest conquest, so far.” He said, looking up at me as if he was hot for my approval.
I smiled faintly. It’s pretty clear he’s into me and desperate to impress me. A real Alpha doesn’t need all that. The fact he was trying only proved he could be had, and had hard. Still, I did not want to take him down here. That would not be a real takedown. We needed to be alone. I needed to break him.
“Hey, you wanna get out of here?” I shouted at him.
“Sure, my hotel is just a block away. That ok? I got a nice room…big…” He yelled back.
So we get back to his hotel. He’s a muckety muck and had a suite. It was nice, and more importantly, it was big. It also had a huge bathroom with a large floor-to-ceiling mirror in it, fully 6 feet wide and 8 feet tall. Beautiful setup. The kind of thing you remember cuz you’ll want it in your own house someday.
So in the bathroom, I’m checking him out. The mirror allows me to be able to do It from multiple angles. He’s fit, and I like his look too, but I’m most curious about his leather. I’d been with leather guys before, but the leather wasn’t adding anything for me. With this guy, it was different. I noticed how he carried himself in it and could tell the leather was like his armor. It was informing his masculinity, his confidence, his role…or his perceived role.
We joked and after a minute we headed back into the other room. He poured us two scotches and we talked a bit, which then started to devolve into him talking about how accomplished he was as a top…again. So I just soaked this up….I didn’t agree, I didn’t disagree, I just listened. Let him build up the bravado and tone of the room. But then after about 10 minutes of this, I suggested we go back to the bathroom.
Inside we stood next to each other, looking in the mirror. I was physically larger, but he seemed oblivious to that…or maybe that was the thing that got him hot, taking down a bigger guy. At any rate, as we stood, I could see that as he looked in the mirror, his leathers were definitely informing his whole persona. I’ve no doubt he was a top, but this uber-top thing was a function of his gear. At this point, I came up with a very crafty plan to whittle down his persona, his ego.
“Hey, let me try your harness on. I’ve seen them on other guys but never actually had one on myself.”
Now I realized, in this moment, that he didn’t KNOW how his persona was informed by the gear, but part of him did know that this was a bad idea. In that moment I honestly wondered how smart this guy was. Maybe he was book or business-smart, but he was not at all self-aware per se. Still, as I said, he knew this was a bad idea.
“Yeah, it’s bespoke for me. Cost me a fortune. Probably not going to fit you man. Let's head back to the other room.”
“Naw, it totally will man. I mean look at it. Every strap is adjustable.”
“Yeah, but…”
“Look, I’ll take some pictures first, front and back and then we can see the exact setting of all the straps. That way we can get it back on you before we start.” I grinned. That pumped him up. I picked up my phone and straightened him out, taking some pics of the harness and close-up on individual straps. I pass him his scotch as I turn him around and he takes a few swigs.
“I think this, I mean, it’s..”
“Are you scared man? Afraid I’ll look better?” I chided him, one part dominant bully and one part questioning his self-image.
“Fuck that…I’m scared of nothing man.”
“Well then take it off. Just wanna try it. Besides, might give you a better way to get a grip on me.” I added, knowing he would see that as him as the top when I meant it was him on the bottom. English can be so ambiguous, especially when alcohol and testosterone are in the room.
And just like that he buckled. I was surprised at how easy that had been and I realized, while he was begrudging, he quickly realized he had to act like this was his idea and he was cool with it. If not, he’d look like a sad 5-year-old who didn’t want someone else playing with his toys.
“Sure man, you should. You’d look hot. Let me see.” He said as he removed his hat, and then harness. As he fumbled with the straps I took a small swig of my scotch and watched as he contorted his body, struggling to get free. At one point I just went over and lifted it over his head and shoulders. He blushed, having just looked like an idiot who could not undress himself. Humbled, he then started adjusting the harness…fumbling really, looking at me and my body, and then undoing and redoing some of the straps. Letting every toggle out for my larger torso. I don’t think he noticed at that moment how things had changed. How subservient he had become. Like a men’s valet, almost, taking care of me while I stood drinking scotch and looking in the mirror. I flexed casually.
“Here, let’s get it on…you.” He stammered looking up at me. I took the harness and swung it over my shoulder as if I’d done it 100 times and way smoother than his awkward disrobing. I raised my right arm up, exposing my pit and flattening one of the straps.
“Here, why don’t you pull it through and sinch it together for me?” I said. He looked up at me, then looked at the strap, my pec, my arm, my pit…I could tell he was swooning. He stared at me and licked his lips. Yeah, he was slipping. He finished connecting the straps and stepped back.
I checked myself out, front and back. I posed a bit and looked at him.
”Like it?” Making sure I asked in a way that indicated I wasn’t seeking his approval.
“Yeah…really good,” he rasped never taking his eye off my body.
I noticed a slight bulge growing in his crotch area. “Yeah, it feels really good. I said while I kept flexing. Do you think the straps are too tight,” I asked him.
“No, no…” he managed to reply still keeping his eyes firmly locked on my body,
“Why don’t you check and see? I’m told that if you can get a finger between the strap and my skin you’ll get a better feel if it’s right.”
He looked up at me, and I could see the hunger in his eyes along with the hesitation.
I decided now is the time to go for it.
“Come on, don’t keep me waiting,” I stated firmly, with just enough force in my voice.
He let out a deep breath and slowly walked closer.
I watched as he slipped a finger between the strap in front of my chest and my skin.
“It fits…….nice,” he said as he let his finger glide up and down across my chest. “Nice…really nice.” He said in a way that made him sound lost. His hands felt me up and down. My pecs, my shoulders, my back.
“I bet those armbands you have on would make me look even hotter,” I said to him.
“My armbands?” he said as he looked up into my face. I gave him a nice smile. “Yeah, the armbands…take them off and let me see.”
He was still rubbing my chest with his finger, “I mean I don’t think you need to,” he said.
“Geez, don’t be such a pussy. I’m only asking to try them on. What gives?”
“Ah, no…”. He paused. “You’re…you’re right. Here…I just meant, you can’t be hotter. Er, I mean…” He stammered.
I waited, letting him continue to take in the sight of me in the harness and he started unsnapping the armbands.
He stepped forward and looked at my arms. First left, then right, then at the straps.
“Put them on me. No way I can do it myself.” I said.
This time there was no hesitation. He jumped forward and secured the first one. It was a tight fit. It was just the last snap and even then they were tight…making my bi bulge out. I flexed a little as he watched and then went to my other side. I lifted my arm again, exposing my pit and flexing my chest. By now, he was totally distracted. He wrapped the strap around my arm and then tried to snap it shut.
“Hey, fuck, careful,” I yelled as he pinched a bit of skin. “Pay attention man!”
“Oh, fuck! Sorry…sir!” I grinned to myself, but he was not even slightly aware of his slip.
I lowered my arm. “Fuck. I said looking in the mirror. “Why don’t you take a look and see, I said to him as I stepped back, I’m smokin’?”
By now he was breathing heavily, sucking in too much air, and getting a little lightheaded for sure. A flush was coming across his face, he took more deep gulps of air, and simply nodded.
“I bet I’d look even better in the rest of it,” I said with determination and an air of cockiness.
He quickly looked up at me, as though caught off guard. I could see a combination of fear and desire on his face. Judging by the way he was now tenting in his pants, I knew he was both turned on by what was happening and on some level realizing what was going on. The question was, was he now helpless to stop it?
“Take ‘em off,” I said. Pressing to see if I could break him. “Dude, move. The quicker we get this done the quicker we fuck.”
That did it, he moaned slightly as he unsnapped the snaps of the buckle, unzipped the legs, and pulled them off. Folding them and putting them on the edge of the vanity, now in just his jeans, I could see his cock was straining. This scene, this situation, was pushing buttons in him he didn’t know he had.
Next, he unlaced his boots and pulled them awkwardly off, wobbling as he tried to maintain his balance and nearly falling on his ass.
“Little tipsy?” I asked chuckling.
He held his chaps in one hand and the boots in the other, looking at them and then handing them over it me. Somehow he knew what it meant to hand it over to me, but he was in too far now. In too deep.
I simply reached my hands out. He passed them slowly to me, wanting to stop this, but unable to act.
I put down the boots and passed him my glass. He had no idea. Here man, have a swig. You look a little green.
In his mind, I know ‘Fuck’ was going through his mind again and again. I put the chaps down on the edge of the vanity. I stepped back and while looking straight into his eyes, began slowly stripping my pants down. They were tight and stretchy and had been outlining my jacked legs all night. But now, I was slowly peeling them down, inside out, exposing my tanned muscled legs. He was beside himself.
“Get rid of yours too man…just keep the jock.”
He nodded.
Once free and clear, I wrapped his “garb” around my waist and snapped it tight. Then zipped the legs closed. They were tight. My legs were stretching the thin leather of the chaps so tight you could see every striation in my legs. He stood there in front of me, touching his cock as I put on each of the boots. “How do I look?” I sharply said to him as I stood there, letting him take in the sight of me, decked out in his stuff.
“Amazing,” he muttered.
So now he’s standing right in front of me. I’m taller, I’m bigger, I’m stronger, I’m in his leathers, and he’s a little drunk. So, I’m pretty pleased with myself. With little to no effort, I’ve changed the dynamic completely as he’s now suddenly and awkwardly aware.
‘This is kind of weird,” he muttered, looking a bit unsure. “I mean being in just jock while I’m in your gear feels….,’
“Natural,” I tell him.
I turn him to face the mirror. “Fuck man, look at me. I’m the total package.” I twist and turn a bit. Double bi pose, then most muscular, I rotate a bit and look at my ass. The harness is really making my entire upper body pop. The straps are let way out but still tight over my massive chest, shoulders, and back, and now he’s realising how much more massive I am than he. The arm bands are making my bi’s totally pop, looking like cannon balls inside my arms. The chaps struggled to contain my quads and the opening for my very strained jock pouch is just pure sex on a stick. His boots are tight, but still, it’s only for a while so I’m rocking his whole look now. I flex my legs and my whole body just pops. He’s just staring.
“I mean, look how this thing accentuates every muscle. Am I right buddy?? Hey, Am I right!?!!” I snap. He’s lost and quickly nods. I reach back to the sink and put his hat on. The first thing he removed and now the thing that most defines a dominant top in the leather community.
I keep at it and then stop flexing and looking at myself. His eyes are glued to me…unable to not watch. I step over a bit and pull him like a puppy in beside me. Now we can both look at the new order in the mirror. He looks at me, then himself, now almost-naked and barefoot.
“What do you see?”
“I, er….” He weakly responds. “A man. An Alpha.”
“AND?”
“Me…I mean, I…a…”. He looks back up, confused. He looks back in the mirror, his brain overloaded by the visual. An Alpha and…him. But regular him. Unleathered him. Emasculated….him.
“Yeah, that’s right. A little confused, aren’t you.” I said as he looked up questioningly, in the mirror. “Pass me my pants.”
He looks down and grabs my jeans, the ones that just minutes ago were hugging my legs, my calves, my ass. I put my hand out and he places them carefully into it. I reach inside and pull out the small, thin, black motorcycle gloves I had put In my back pocket before going out. He watches intently, first not knowing what they are, but then suddenly his eyes go wide. I drop the pants while staring at him.
With my right hand simultaneously holding the right glove, I begin the process of tugging on the left glove. If you’ve never worn motorcycle gloves, the first part is easy, getting your fingers started into their respective sleeves, but after that you have to tug and pull each side up, moving around and around the perimeter. The whole time I scowled at him. Just staring as I pulled them up, sometimes in the mirror, and sometimes turning my head and looking directly at him. Hitting him from two angles, two very hot vantage points. A close-up and then a long shot.
And he’s breathing so heavily, watching so closely as I pull on the gloves. He seems mesmerized and occasionally I see him reach down to adjust (but really grope) his erection. I just let him twice and then on the 3rd time I bark at him to stop and focus…he mumbles an apology…I smile when instinctively he does thinking, Yep , you ’ re going down. Going down hard…former leather daddy .
He gazes up at me. I could see him wondering what’s gone wrong. The glove move has turned his brain to absolute mush, so intense is the sexual frenzy in his mind. He didn’t think the situation through, he drank too much, he’s TOO into me, and he’s made so many missteps that now he’s off his game. He is realizing that he needs to do something to get back on track, but it’s just too late. Judging by his leaking cock that has now created an obscenely large wet spot in his jock, I knew he was trippin’.
We both knew however he thought things would play out between us, things were going in another direction. But in his little “Total Top” brain, a second persona was stepping out. First slowly, but now more quickly. But that leak, that new sensation was so erotic and thrilling that he was unable to tamp it down. I could see him trying.
It’s like you see in a movie where someone follows procedures to get an outcome but it does not work. So they do it again with a bit of concern. Nothing. And then again, now in a mild panic. Leather Daddy was unable to get control back. And now he was realizing it was not just the scene he had lost…but something in his head. Something had changed in his mind and he could not seem to even figure out what that was let alone get it back in line. The stage was set and part 3 was beginning.
“I see where you keep looking.”
He quickly lifted his eyes to focus on my face. He was caught off guard. How long had he been staring? How long had he been trying to regain control, to get back in the driver’s seat? His brain was just moving too slowly even though it seemed to be going a million miles an hour. I could see the fear in his eyes as he looked up into mine before they dropped back down to take in my swelling crotch.
“Don’t worry, it’s cool man. It’s something you’re powerless against.” I grinned. “I guarantee you’re gonna like this next bit.”
He swallowed hard as I reached down and pulled my jock strap aside. My log of a cock just tumbles out, chubbed but not hard, and then blood pressure and gravity take over and it starts to fill. In the blink of an eye, it is fully erect and bouncing slightly to the beat of my heart.
”Fuck,” he sighs, never taking his eyes off my meat.
Honestly, my jewels are a thing of beauty and my newest soon-to-be boy is mesmerized by the sight. I turn now to face him and he does the same, the mirror now in profile.
“Oh fuck…that’s….Fuck….that’s beautiful.” He stepped forward and reached out, but I grabbed his wrist with my leather-encased hand.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”. A sternly questioned.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Can…can I touch it?” He tentatively asked while staring at my cock, continuously. Like he was hypnotized…and maybe he was, the way it bobbed slightly. Maybe my cock has always had this ability…to hypnotize lesser men. It’s funny. He sounded so innocent. Like this was his first man-on-man sexual experience. He was almost timid…so in awe.
“Since you asked so nicely, yes,” I told him. As he stepped forward he reached out and it was then I knew for certain. I had him…cold.
His hand came around my cock and held it cautiously, squeezing, tugging. Then he loosened his grip and slid his fist slowly up and down my oversized junk. “Oh fuck. I mean, I knew you had something going on in the bar. More than just everything else you got, I mean. But, fuck, this…I just…”
“Yeah, I get it. So, why not get a closer look?”
“Yeah,” he said as if in a trance. “A closer look. I’ll…” his voice faded as he crouched down, the perfect cock just inches from his face.
I reached forward and pushed my hand into his hair. Once suitably entangled, I pulled him forward until he lost balance and crashed forward onto his knees. He didn’t even realize it, staring straight into the piss-slit of my cock.
“Cummon buddy, give it a little kiss.”
Startled at the suggestion he looked up. “I…I don’t suck cock.”
“Oh, you don’t? I guess I can understand that. I mean, a lot of guys…men really…see it as insulting, demoralizing… something a woman would do….or a pussy.”
He just kept staring straight at it. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
“No worries man. But give it a little kiss for me. Nobody will know. Just between us….Just to show me you care.”
“Oh, I…er…I guess that would be….” His voice faded out and now he’s opening his mouth more and moving in. And just like that, he’s kissing the tip of my hog. It spasms and jumps (and I may have thrust forward slightly), inserting itself slyly in between his lips. His tongue can’t help itself and darts out to lick the prejizz that’s dripping like honey from the tip of my cock.
“Oh, hey, got a little more than a kiss there. Like that buddy?”
“Ah, it’s…so…good…salty…sweet….” and without even knowing it he leans forward, the head just in his mouth tentatively, his tongue goes to the well again, licking out more of the nectar that he suddenly needs so badly.
“Ats it…take a little more.”
“I…ithh tho…gooth….” He replies and takes even more of my cock into his suddenly overwet mouth.
“That’s it…good job…”. I start to tractor his head forward on the end of my arm, pulling him forward as he opens wider and wider to accommodate my throbbing bone. At first, he’s lost, loving the cock that is making something new of him, but then suddenly concerned, as more and wider cock moves in deeper and deeper. His lips become stretched tight and thin. His eyes flash up to me, suddenly panicked, my hand tightening in his hair.
“Ats it boy….” I stopped. His eyes are suddenly wide. Wanting so badly to correct me, wanting so badly to set the record straight, to say he’s not a boy…. but ultimately trapped, doing the thing he doesn’t do for a man he thought would be his bitch.
I reach over and kill the lights so it’s now just a dim light coming from the toilet room and the light coming in from the bedroom. I look in the mirror. I’m in his full leathers looking down…he’s on his knees…my dick is in his mouth…he’s looking up at my jacked form…and my big dick is wedged in his mouth. He’s looking up, squirming a bit, and now the low light, the reflections off my body and the leather, have thrown his brain into overdrive.
So I continue, chattering to him softly, like we’re someplace where being quiet is important. “Shhhhh…I know. Didn’t think this is where you’d be, on the end of my cock, chowing down on so much meat….doing what boys do, what women do, what bitches do.” I said. “It’s ok…” I pulled him further onto my stiff pole, his eyes beginning to tear up, but his fight was fading fast. His resistance gone, he only tried now to accommodate me, to take me deeper, to worship….me.
My hand came down to his jaw. I stroked him gently, my other hand still tangled in his hair.
“Look at me.”
His eyes darted up, looking at me through wells of tears. I looked down at him, struggling to take it all down his throat. The gurgling and choking sounds, his cheeks contracting as I stuffed him deeper, his temporary muffled protest, at one point.
“I know….I know…you’ll get the hang of it. We’ll take it slow…to start. Try and relax your throat for me.” His dazed look suddenly became focused as he tried to will his throat wider. I could see it in him…his effort to relax enough to let me use him.
“At’s it…take me deeper…you can do it…” He gagged, saliva dripping from his cock stuffed mouth..a few times I pulled out and he was gasping only to get restuffed a few seconds later. The onslaught was constant and I never gave him much time for recovery. He was now my total bitch, letting me call all the shots and trusting me to give him what he could handle, all the way up to the line.
“Wider…just a bit more…cummon, don’t be a pussy…you can take it…” I gently chided him. Leaning to the side and looking down I can see his own furious erection still trapped in its stretched-out, jockstrap prison, the wet spot now as big as my fist. I smiled down at him as he continued looking up for guidance.
“Yeah, I see you…doing so well…” I let go of his jaw and flexed my hand, making the leather of the glove chitter and creak. I knew this was music to any leatherman’s ears and now it’s playing right next to his. After that, My hand moved to the back of his head. I pulled him forward harder and my cock slid into his throat a respectable distance…certainly farther than a novice could have taken me.
“You sure you’ve never done this before? I mean, for someone who said he doesn’t suck cock, you seem to have taken half of mine with no trouble. Want some more?” I queried him. He shook his head side to side frantically, already so impaled, a look of panic in his eyes. I laughed, “Too bad, cuz here it comes…boy.” I pushed hard and slid in deeper. He gagged a bit and I pulled back and waited for him to compose himself, but again, not for long. I then pushed forward again, stretching him in girth and depth…then back….then forward…then back….forward….back…forward…back…
Before long we had a respectable rhythm going on and my cock was loving his hot mouth wet mouth and throat vacuum sealed to my stiff baby maker. The sensation of his tongue, running along my undershaft, his spittle coming out of the corners of his mouth mixed with my ample prejizz, and his eyes, oh man, his eyes. It was crazy hot putting my new boy through his paces. I watched as spit and my pre-cum dribbled from his lips collecting in that little hole where his throat meets his chest and pooling before dripping down onto his knees. He was not taking anywhere close to all of my dick, but that was unlikely. I picked up the pace now, breaking into a serious rut.
“Yeah, that’s it, boy. Time for your first lesson in servitude. Get ready cuz I’m gonna seed you deep.” I continued, now fully throttling my cock into his skull. His eyes pleading, my hand pulling hard on his hair and the other at the back of his hands. His hands flailed out groping around for something to hold as he tried to stabilize himself but my onslaught just continued faster and faster until I was a total blur on his face. He was completely in my control and therefore, out of his. I could see the emotion in his eyes, the heat, the sexual elation.
And then, with just a nod, “Fuck baby, I’m cumming…UNGGHHHHHHHH….” I groaned as I dropped a massive thick load of my babies into this guy’s head. His flailing arms groped forward and found my leathered encased quads and he just held on for dear life as I unloaded my cum filled balls.
After the first huge volleys, I pulled back letting my cock continue to unload its hot semen onto his tongue and letting him breathe, his face now a mess of snot and tears. After a couple of minutes, I pushed him back and stepped away.
I was feeling fine but Leather Daddy just rolled forward onto his hands and lowered himself into a doggy position, his head low. I looked down at him sucking in and blowing out air at a furious rate, some of the cum and spit still drooling from his mouth and onto the floor. I threw him a small hand towel.
“Nice work…but I’m not sure you’re quite the top you thought you were. Maybe you can prove yourself in round 2” I snarkily commented. I strolled to the other room and poured myself another scotch.