Score! Something Old & Something New

0057 in 0054 of 4121 at 1930

Several years ago, a mild-mannered pervert proposed that he and I should routinely engage in various brachioproctic and other copulatory activities. I’m not one to turn down such an invite, so thus began a brief spell as regular playmates. We shared a love of poppers and perversions in ways that only the most dedicated handballers can do. And yet, the slings and arrows of everyday living got between us, and our sessions dwindled in frequency and duration. Many months passed without holy fisting communion. After a long hiatus, we rekindled the passion, and this specific session turned out to be spectacular.

It all happened picnic style in a small room, on a blanket spread out across the floor. The environment wasn’t ideal, but there are times that a little awkwardness actually augments the intensity of play. The confined nature of this playspace magnified his submissive side and amplified my dominant side. He followed commands like his life depended on it–as both a top and bottom. His tight hole struggled to accept my fist, but this would not deter us. We shifted to working his ass several toys from his play bag. Within no time at all, both his moans and pheromones filled the air. As a consequence, my hole began to twitch with anticipation of the plunge to come.

As we flipped positions, his arm easily reached high forearm within mere seconds of penetration. The speed and intensity caught him off guard, and blood gushed into his cock, causing it the head to swell bigger than it had ever done so before. The plump breed rod caught my attention. Without pause or extraction, I flipped around to my knees–hoping to feel his prick slide in alongside his arm, but alas, his mind was already in breed mode and his cock quickly replaced his slippery appendage. There would be no internal hand job today. Everything about this session was so enhanced that I was not bothered by this in the least.

Behind me, I could hear the familiar sound of poppers inhalation. Not just a run-of-the-mill huff, but an extensively long inhale that would adversely affect even a two-ton elephant. When he stopped, I demanded that he repeat the process. He did; perhaps even longer than the first inhalation. My cock got stiff, and I took the bottle and followed his lead as he slowly inserted and pistoned his eight inch tool in my sloppy hole. We fucked like the rapture had just occurred. His creamy load flooded my storage unit and we collapsed in sure bliss.

To safeguard this special delivery, we used one of his larger toys to push the injection deep into the back of the storage unit. Since he can’t take but a few inches of that toy, I got to keep it as a nice reward and momento for the day.

A load and a toy! Awesome score!

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