Thursday, February 14, 2008

The Monday Sub




I never expected to actually hook up with Mr. Monday. I'd had one of those filthy meet-for-sex sites open one day, and he'd messaged me and told me how much he liked my cock pic. He had a user name that indicated he enjoyed bondage, and I mentioned that it might be something I could get into, but he wasn't available right then. So I gave him one of my email addresses and told him to contact me, figuring he wouldn't. And he didn't, exactly, but he did send an email, mentioning one of his email addresses, to my profile on that site, and when I got it, I wrote him, and we backed and forthed a few times, settling on Monday. As the correspondence grew, I laid on layers until I got to one of my standard anonymous scenes, and he got more excited with each detail.

Standard scenes are fine, of course. We all want sex to be new and different each time, but, well, you know, most porn scenes are pretty much the same for a reason: there are only so many things you can do. Or only so many things that you can do and want to do, I suppose. Those things are good things, and introducing a new guy to an old scene makes it novel anyway. But I get used to the standard and don't always think of all the variations, so when I told him to arrive wearing jeans and no underwear, enter the house, strip down to his jeans, put on the blindfold, and announce his presence, it didn't occur to me that he'd want to know which sort of jeans. He offered a) regular, b) ripped, or c) short, that didn't fully cover his ass. I told him regular would be fine, mostly because I figured "who the fuck cares?" would be impolite.


Anyway. On Monday, I got an email saying that he wasn't sure he could make 8:30, but that he was also free on Tuesday. At the time, I expected to be occupied on Tuesday, so I told him that 9 or 9:30 would be fine, and that I'd said 8:30 because it was the earliest I could make. We sent a couple of text messages back and forth, and I called him once, and everything seemed set. He seemed a little nervous, but mostly because he seemed worried that I'd bruise him. Like I'm some sort of beginner or something. Hmmmph. At 8:30, he called, saying he was a few minutes from leaving, and that he thought he'd be there between 9 and 9:30. He was coming from Damascus, which really is in the middle of nowhere, but since I'm on the outskirts of nowhere, I thought 9:30 sounded a little long. But I reckon bottoms take a lot of time doing their preparation or whatever, because it got to be about 9:20, and I hadn't heard from him. He'd said he'd call a few minutes before he got to my place. He really didn't seem like the type to flake, but I called him again to make sure, and he said that he was just then driving through Laytonsville, which, as it happens, is about halfway between the outskirts and the middle of nowhere.

It's also about ten minutes from where I live, and at 9:45, he still wasn't there, so I called again to ask whether he was lost, and he said he was turning onto a street a mile or so from my house. So I made sure the blindfold was in place and went to sit at the computer and play some farm hustle while I waited. I don't know whether the guy drives really slowly or kept stopping, turning around, and then deciding to come after all, but it took him almost another ten minutes to come the last mile and then park in the driveway. A few minutes later, I heard the usual, "I'm ready, sir," and I opened the study door, and there he was. Worth the wait, I thought.

I typically don't say a lot to my subs. I know that's a disappointment to some of them, but how many times can you say "suck that cock, cocksucker!" without feeling foolish? I'm a little more inventive than that, obviously, but I don't want to talk, I want to play. Anyway, I squeezed his ass, and he gave that sort of sigh that you'd expect to hear from a man who's just barely escaped execution, so I figured I had a live one. I squeezed his nipples, and he murmured, "Harder," and I had to suppress a be-careful-what-you-wish-for laugh. Then I put the wrist restraints on him, clipped them together behind his back, and began walking him up the stairs. That always sounds easier than it is. He had some balance problems, but I was behind him, and he was a pretty light, wiry sort of guy, so I kept him steady.


I maneuvered him into the bedroom, and twisted his nipples again, getting another "harder," and this time I actually did laugh a little, saying, "Don't worry, man, I'm at level one right now, and we're going clear to eleven." He seemed to take it as good news. I slapped his ass, through his jeans, with an open palm, and he gave another little murmur of joy, and I pushed him forward, so that he fell across the bed. I pulled my belt out of my pants, doubled it, and ran the leather under his nose and across his back before giving him a swat. Then I pulled his jeans down just below the buttocks and started spanking him lightly, just enough to bring a nice blush to his cheeks. I reached between his legs and gave his nuts -- real low hangers! -- a tug and then pulled his cock out so that the head rested on the top of his waistband. Then I spanked him a few more times, deepening the hue.

I pulled him back to his feet and alternately squeezed his nips and asscheeks for just a bit, then I pushed the jeans down to his thighs, shoved him back on the bed, and pulled the jeans all the way off. After a little more spanking, I unclipped the restraints, rolled him on his back, and tied each wrist restraint to a corner of the bed. I very much liked the way he looked then. I could tell from handling his body that he'd shaved his chest as well as his armpits, and he had terrific tan lines. And, of course, his nipples were very responsive. He hardly ever actually said anything for the first hour or so, but his body was silently very expressive. Once I had his arms tied to the bed, I got rid of my boxers, pulled him towards the foot of the bed (his feet were towards the head), arranged him so that his head hung off, and began to slowly fuck his face. He seemed happy enough with that, but when I started to pinch his nipples, he seemed a lot happier. Before long, I got the nipple clamps and applied those. I also bound his nutsack with some pony tail holders. I wanted to use a variety of colors, but when I went to the box where I thought they were, they weren't, so I just had to use what I had. Something to put on my shopping list because, really, if you can make a guy's nutsack look like a rainbow, why not go for the full-on fabulosity? Anyway.


I am easily mesmerized by the male body, especially when it's tied to the bed. There's something about restricting the range of motion and removing visual stimuli, combined with the natural verbal reticence of a submissive, that heightens the impact of the responses that remain. I can get lost in the experience very easily, and if I don't remind myself that there are things to be done, then I'm liable to sit there and play with a nipple until the sun rises. It was very fortunate that when I went to kiss the sub, he responded eagerly. The natural tension between wanting to kiss him and wanting to work his nipples helped me not to get lost in a single activity and to remember that an ass wanted to be spanked and that there were ice cubes and candles waiting to be played with.

But not before putting on the ankle restraints and tying them to the free corners of the bed. And not before some more making out. One of the few things that did make him verbal, if not lingual, was pinching one of the nipple clamps tighter while kissing him. Still, I did manage to move onto the ice cube. I had some porn running at the same time, not to watch, but to provide an appropriate soundtrack and to keep him from hearing what I was up to. A guy who's tied down and who hasn't been touched for more than thirty seconds or so already becomes a bit apprehensive about what's coming, but you really don't want him braced for the ice cube. He wasn't, and he writhed, but he still said nothing. Give the guy credit. The first ice cube (partially melted because it had been sitting in a glass of cold club soda for a while) went first into his belly button, then up his chest, into the hollow beneath his adam's apple, and finally between his penis and thigh. The second ice cube rested on his testicles for a bit. Then I pushed it inside his ass. No reaction at all, but then I started kissing him again, and that made him a bit more animated.

He was, for the most part, similarly reserved when I began dripping the candle wax around his torso. I was holding the candle a good eighteen inches above his chest, so the wax wasn't all that hot, but, as is usually the case, I could tell that the accumulation of drops was beginning to get to him. He started to twist slowly. Still, most guys will take a good deal less wax than he took before they indicate discomfort. He didn't really start writhing until I let the wax fall on his nuts. Even then, he didn't object, but I figured enough was enough and blew the candle out.


Sometime later, after another face fucking session or two and some more making out, I untied the ankle restraints so that I could fold his legs forward and eat his ass while pulling on his balls and slapping his ass. He was getting very animated, and we'd been going at it a while, and I figured I was ready to have him go down on me while I ate his ass, so I untied what I thought was the last knot and moved him around until he was on his knees. I grabbed his head and pulled it toward my cock, and he seemed to be resisting, so I said, "C'mon, suck my cock," and pulled some more, but he didn't move any farther, and he didn't say anything, and then finally I looked over and realized that one wrist was still tied to the bed. Oops. I untied the knot, and he went hungrily down on me.

After a few minutes, he stopped, said that he was sorry, but that he really, really needed "to pee," so I led him to the bathroom, pushed him inside, and shut the door behind him. I spent a few minutes rearranging the bed, etc., and then it seemed to be taking a long time, so I went to the bathroom door, where the light had gone out, and he apologized again, saying that he'd had to unbind his nuts in order to urinate. This didn't seem like a big deal to me. I went back to the bed, and a minute or so later, he appeared at the door, with his blindfold back on, stumbled forward to the bed, found my cock, and resumed sucking on it.


I pulled his ass around so I could eat it. I started up a little bit of patter, with the occasional question to which he'd answer "yes, sir," and I kept eating his ass, frequently reminding him that he was not to stop sucking me. But it was a hard direction for him to follow: he seemed a bit overwhelmed by the sensations of analingus. I worked a couple of fingers into his ass, which seemed to overwhelm him a bit more, and when I pushed him off me and brought his head around so I could kiss him, he lined his ass up with my cock.

I slipped a condom on, and he started to try to sit down on it. After a while, he apologized and asked for some lube. I told him it seemed like an eminently reasonable request, and I smeared some on his ass and a bit more on the condom, and then he was able to get me inside without too much difficulty, though with a lot of moaning. I grabbed his hips, pulling him all the way down, which caused something louder, and then I told him to give me his hands, grabbed them, and told him to lean back. When I had him in an X position, we both wriggled in sync until we got a bit too agitated, and I popped out. He leapt up to try to get me back in, but I wanted him in another position, so I put him flat on his stomach.

When I pushed back into him, his head was turned, and I managed to kiss him while moving in and out of him. That's usually a little awkward, and it was clear that he wanted to get plowed, so I left off the kissing and concentrated on giving him a nice, hard fuck. He encouraged me. I responded with additional force.


It's not easy for me to get off from fucking another guy, but we were both having such a good time that I just kept on plowing and plowing, harder and harder. He got increasingly vocal, and I pushed up off the bed with my fists and moved forward to get a better angle on his prostate. After about fifteen minutes of concentrated thrusting, I was very pleased to feel that I was close to cumming. I slowed down briefly, but I could tell that he wanted it hard and he wanted me to shoot, so I resumed full force fucking and soon, well: bang.

He'd been trying to milk me with his ass muscles for a while, and he kept on squeezing and releasing after I'd cum, so I just stayed where I was, pushed up, and he kept working his ass for another couple of minutes. Then I pulled out and collapsed next to him, turned him toward me, and started kissing him again. The nipple clamps had long since come loose during the fuck, so I just used my fingers to play with them, occasionally pausing to slap his ass or tug his nuts.


We kissed and, well there's no other word for it, cuddled for a bit, and when he started to play with himself, I went back to squeezing his nip with one hand and kissing him. He started really getting into it, stroking fast and making a lot of noise, and when he was breathing hard and making muffled (because I was kissing him, you know) shouts, I figured he was going to cum, and I soon felt spurts of watery cum falling on my arm and down my back. I pulled the giant beach towel that I'd put on top of the bed around both of us to wipe the cum off me, and then we kissed some more. He told me that he hadn't thought he could cum because he had jerked off twice earlier in the day, thinking about what we were going to do. I reckon that's why the ejaculate was on the thin side, but there was certainly plenty of volume and force.

I expected him to want to go then, but he stuck around and we chatted for a while. He still had on the blindfold, and we were still cuddling, mind you. I know that making out and cuddling with a sub (let alone helping him get off and then massaging him afterwards) are surefire ways to make sure that he won't come back for another round, but, well, you know: mesmerized by the body, gotta be me, that sort of thing. He seemed to be enjoying it, and it's possible that the blindfold mitigated the friendly treatment somewhat. Or maybe he's that rare submissive who just wants to be controlled but accepts his desire as a healthy expression of his sexuality and doesn't let it turn him nuts. Yeah. And maybe I'm Marie of Romania. Anyway, around 12:30, he said that he really should be going, and about fifteen minutes later, he actually got up from the bed. I helped him find his jeans and put them on, then I put him out in the hallway and closed the door. "Thanks again," he called from the landing. "It was my pleasure." Really the wrong thing to say, but whatever. He left the blindfold on the railing at the top of the stairs, and a few minutes later, he called another thank you, and I heard the door shut behind him.


I got a thank you e-mail from him, and I sent him the pictures. He said that he wants to play again, both that night and via e-mail, so I suppose it might happens. God knows I'm willing, but no god can predict the whims of a man, so I'll invite him back, but I'm not counting on anything. He'd make a great semi-regular sub for when b&c is out of the country (which is likely to be about fourteen or fifteen weeks this year), but he was a really great fuck Monday, and if that's all it turns out to have been, well, I still have a partner, and, as for extrarelationship fucks, there are too many fish in the sea.

Speaking of which, my going-to-sleep DVD viewing for the past few nights has been The Commitments, one of my very favorite musical movies. If you've never seen it, you must rent it. Until then, you can watch the short version.

2 comments:

Tork said...

Regarding the picture that looks like Nazi Aryian youth gone wild. How does one go about wearing full scale storm trooper shoes and socks while naked? I mean are one's pantlegs so wide they slip over aforementioned footwear, or does one diligently take off shoes, remove pants and undergarments, and then patiently slip them back on and retie them? Always a good idea though to wear one's shoes if having sex on broken glass or unwashed sheets.

The Neighbors Will Hear said...

I can think of at least two possibilities, tork. Back when I used to go to NBA games, when the players would go to the bench, they'd put on warm-up pants that had snaps all along the side seams. When it was time to go back in, they'd yank the pants and they'd come right off. Perhaps they make jeans like that. If they don't they really should, and all of my subs should get pairs. I would really love to be able to restrain a guy while he still had his jeans on and only take them off later.

Alternatively, I reckon that if you're a slave, some days when you get out of the shower, you only have to put on your socks and boots. And maybe a collar. It's an enviably simple life. In fact, isn't that what that The Simple Life reality show was about?