From Blogger to Flogger - Sex~Kitten.net

When I was a young lad, I would often delight in sneaking through my father's sock drawer once everyone left the house to view this old tattered ashcan magazine of pornography. I don't remember the name of it, but it documented sexual acts from anal sex to...well, whatever the kids are doing these days that starts with a 'Z'. At the time, I think it was zoology and involved this naughty caretaker and an overactive grizzly bear.

Hot shit, lemme tell ya.

The B of the book was "bondage", and I remember the story involving a woman punishing her husband by tying him up and whipping him with cords until he submitted to her, dropping to the floor a mass of bones and welt-covered flesh, all the while soaked in sweat and cum. "Oh God," I'd say. "I'd never do anything like that. That's just...freaky." And yet, who knew later on in life I'd get such pleasure out of it, especially during an especially low time of my life.

I was unemployed, fresh from getting fired for blogging on the job and having no luck whatsoever with finding a steady gig. Resumes were submitted with no follow-up, interviews were conducted and my patience and bank balance were wearing thin. And whenever all that stress is building up, the best way to release it is during some hot sweaty mansex.

His name was Juan, a Miami-born Cuban who had made his way to The City Too Busy to Hate to try and start his fledgling playwright career. We met online in a chat room and exchanged several phone calls and pictures before meeting near my house to go to the supermarket and buy groceries. I made spaghetti. As I stirred the sauce, he wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing the back of my neck and sliding his hands over my torso. He grabbed handfuls of my meaty chest.

"Stop, will ya? I'll burn the sauce if I keep messing around with you." Leave it to me to put marinara before a man behind me.

Dinner was served. My Cuban companion couldn't stop flirting with me at the table, deep-throating several breadsticks and rubbing them over his nipples. I'm not sure what he was going for, but it wasn't working. I was ready to take this one-trick pony out to stud as we sat on the couch and he bored me with tales of casting people for his play. Finally, I was sick of it.

"Look, are we going to fuck or not?" His eyebrow raised.

He laid back as I leaned over him, ferociously kissing him and rubbing my hands over his body. I held them behind his back as I worked my way around to unbuttoning his pants.

"To the bedroom, Juan. Now."

He seemed to be enjoying my more-than-forceful nature, so I decided to see just how far I'd be able to take it. He walked back to my bedroom and I walked close to him, slammed him against the wall and gave him and held his hands above his head. He panted, his eyes frantically searching my face for any kind of recognition of power. He was enjoying this.

"Take off your shirt."

He stripped off his black t-shirt, revealing a bit of a tummy, a well-defined chest, and nipples like battery nodes. He was past enjoying this...hell, he'd done this before. I slowly licked his left nipple before biting down on it. He yelped and I could feel his dick jump through his pants.

"Strip for me, Juan. Show me that big fat ass so I can fuck it. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Show me how much you want this big black dick."

I released my grip on his hands and he began a little striptease, taking off his pants revealing a juicy ass framed by a white jockstrap. He left his work boots on and stood before me, a delectable sexual treat of thick muscular legs, huge balls, a fat cock and a hungry mouth. This, I thought, was going to be a great fuck.

And then he got on his knees and started to lick my shoes.

"What...are you doing?"

"I'm licking your boots sir. Do you like this sir?"

"Umm...yeah...yeah, I like it." I cringed and tried my hardest not to lose my erection. After all, I know where those boots had been, covered in layers of waxy polish and treading through dirt, grass and downtown grime. And here he was slurping on my Skechers like a lollipop. He eventually stopped and worked his way up to my cock, taking it into his mouth and doing one helluva good job on it. He looked up at me, released my cock and smacked it hard against his face.

"Spank me, sir. Please. Spank my ass."

My God, he was polite. And while I'm not one to shy away from an orgasm by any means, I'd never tried fellatio with a side of flagellation. What the hell, right? I smacked his ass lightly.

I smacked it again, a little harder.

"HARDER! MAKE ME FEEL THAT SHIT!"

And then it just happened. Something in me snapped. He wolfed down my cock as I double-smacked his fat yellow ass, each swat leaving a pink handprint. It wasn't so much that I got into the fantasy of light bondage followed by domination and spanking, but it was getting out some much needed aggressions. Overqualified, eh? Smack. Don't call us, we'll call you? Smack. Looking for someone a little less BLACK? Someone not so GAY? SMACK. SMACK. SMACK!

I came in his mouth and then we kissed, slurping and swapping the cum between us until it slid down our throats in a sweet syrup. I spent the remainder of that night smacking and fucking him doggy-style on my creaky full-size bed, wrapping the straps of his jockstrap in my left hand, slapping his ass with the right, and riding him like The Lone Ranger on Silver.

I never saw him again after that night, but since then, I've always had the fantasy of doing it again. Maybe even going down to the leather club and smacking some cub bitch up and watching him relish it with a shit-eating grin.