Dylan clenched the thick comforter of the bed tighter. “Fuck,” he groaned into the rough fabric. It was already damp from his breath.
“Fuck,” he moaned louder as he felt the fat head of the cock drive in deeper, scraping down his insides. The sharp sound of flesh slapping together rang out across the room. For a few minutes there was nothing but wet sounds and panting breath. Finally, with one last thrust, he felt her collapse. Her heaving breasts glided easily against the wet slick of sweat down his back. He felt her open mouth suckling and biting it’s way up to his neck.
“How was that?” Molly asked. He could feel her struggling to catch her breath, and felt the tremble of her racing heart across her skin.
“It was fun,” he said, turning to grin weakly at her.
She laughed, and wriggled her hips against him. He felt the thick weight of it shifting around in his belly. “Only fun?”
“Well, I love you,” Dylan said, and leaned in to kiss her, pressing his tongue into her soft mouth for a moment. “But I miss seeing your body.”
That was certainly true. She had an incredible body, with a tight stomach and cleavage enough to drown in. Her face was all girlish innocence, and her mind was pure filth. Such a loving and devoted wife…
They both grit their teeth as she slipped herself out of him and unlatched the strap-on, letting it splatter against the floor. “Oops,” she said.
She had ordered it not ten minutes after he had first let her play with his ass in the shower. She had seen the effect it had had on his cock, so there was no way to downplay it. And ever since then her sex drive had been… well, it had always been through the roof. Now it was in overdrive.
And for a few days, Dylan was just as excited to play with her. Perhaps Molly could fill that void of need that had opened up in his life these past few months. Perhaps she could still be the wife that spoiled him with everything he could ever need. But then, after ten minutes spent dully starring at the bed frame while all hundred pounds of her humped at him lifelessly, the dream was dead.
There was simply no comparison to the real thing. It wasn’t her fault. He missed the musky smell of Adam’s hairy sack, and the wet dribbles of pre-cum that spurted across his tongue and made his teeth feel gritty. He missed the stubble of Joe’s shaved body scratching against his back. He missed the way his toes had wriggled uncontrollably as his prostate had been stroked past the point of sanity…
The memory of it had carried him through a few orgasms, but Molly hadn’t had a full day of work in days. She kept calling off to ‘explore this new fantasy,’ and was too excited to be dissuade. He hadn’t seen his boys in over a week, other than a few rushed photos each time he snuck off to the bathroom.
“Molly, I’m not sure this is for me,” he told her.
Her face, still blushing and slick with sweat, dropped quickly. “I’m not doing it right?”
“I think you’re doing it right,” he laughed. “But, I don’t know. I don’t know if this is my thing. I miss just… being with you,” he said. “I think it might have just been a momentary fantasy. And you’ve checked that box for me now.”
“Is it the wrong angle?” she said, prodding the thing with her toe. “Is it too big?”
Dylan grinned. Her toy had nothing on Joe. “It’s neither of those. It was fun at first but… I just don’t think I don’t think it does much for me. Please don’t think it’s you. And, if you enjoy it, we can still-“
“I just want to if you want to,” she said quickly. “I want to make you happy.”
She looked unhappy, and they cleaned up and showered in relative silence. The rest of the day passed in an uneasy sort of polite formality.
“Now what’s a fantasy of yours that we can try?” he whispered when they crawled into bed a few hours later.
“Mm, istanbul travesti I think we just did it,” she said, turning over toward him. “But, you’re right. I miss your hands and being able to see you. And it’s exhausting being up there,” she laughed. “Maybe just tell me when you want to try it again?”
He nodded. “Well, you still have to pick the next thing,” he reminded her. She promised to think about it.
She worked on day shifts for the rest of the week, and was off the next weekend entirely. By the time he was nearing a free night for himself again, he felt nearly sick from bent-up need. They hadn’t had sex again since their talk. Not from lack of trying on her part, though. Now that he was so nearly free again, though, he didn’t want to waste it.
“Who’s free this weekend? SOS” he emailed out from his burner account, in a private window, while Molly was in the bathroom. He checked it every chance he could, but for a full day there was no reply. It wasn’t until Friday, the day before Molly was to start two twelve hour shifts in a row, that people started to respond.
“Can’t make it, sorry.”
“I’m out. Sorry, bud.”
“wish I could”
Dylan started to sweat. In desperation, he messaged Mike, the not-particularly attractive or alluring gay man he occasionally went down on. “Sorry. Busy all day. Maybe tonight?”
“Can’t,” Dylan wrote back bitterly. “Can I meet you in a bathroom maybe tomorrow, if you’re busy? I’ll be quick :)” He grimaced coldly at the screen. The response took a lot longer to come back. “Sorry, sweetie.”
The bitterest despair washed over him. Molly noticed immediately, and he had to assure her that it was her upcoming busy schedule that was making him so gloomy. He didn’t bother checking his phone again until Molly went to shower before bed.
“Busy all day working pride fest, btw. You could come,” Mike had replied hours earlier. “I bet you just might be able to find someone who’ll let you scratch that terrible itch!”
Dylan grit his teeth. Mike wasn’t wrong. But Pride Fest? That was so public. People would be taking photos. And, once they were out there, they could never be taken back. Could he wear a mask? Would that be weird? It seemed like it would be.
“No, thanks. Not feeling very proud :/” he wrote back.
To his surprise, Mike responded quickly. “There’s plenty of that, too.” Dylan was about to close out of his account when Mike responded again. “If you truly want to stay anon, and you’re truly in need, and you’re feeling VERY wild, I’ve got something.”
“Please,” Dylan texted back. Minutes seemed to pass as he waited for a reply. He could hear Molly’s shower wrapping up. “Come on,” he muttered to himself.
“A friend of a friend mentioned a gloryhole not far from Pride.” There was a link to map beneath it. Dylan felt a surge of disappointment again. A blowjob? Molly could give him a blowjob.
“They’re looking for volunteers to serve ;)” Mike replied.
“Fuck yes,” Dylan wrote back.
When Molly slipped into bed ten minutes later, she couldn’t fail to notice his swollen cock jutting against the sheets. A few moments later, he was cradling her head in his hands and fucking her mouth wildly, nearing madness. Tomorrow, this will be me, he thought, as he thrust in deeper.
The next day passed at a crawl. He cleaned up his face and gargled twice, pointlessly. By lunch, he gave up any pretense of distracting himself and simply paced around the house faster and faster. Finally, it was two. It wasn’t exactly a popular time, but the first of the visitors were arriving and he’d rather be waiting there than at home. He made it downtown in record speed.
The directions took him to what turned out to be an apartment complex near the city, a few streets off from the festival. A large, bald man in a tight white istanbul travestileri shirt answered the door, and raised his eyebrows when he didn’t recognize Dylan’s face. “Can I help you?”
“I’m a friend of Mike’s. I’m here for the party?” Dylan said.
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you so early,” the stranger said, but he took a step back to let him inside. “We already have another working the crowd, so to speak,” he said, elbowing Dylan in the arm. He led Dylan into the back where there were two bedrooms with the door partially opened and a bathroom in the middle. He led Dylan into the further room and let him pass inside.
Dylan glanced around the place. It looked like any average bedroom, perhaps a little messier, but there was a shower curtain hanging in front of the window. You could see through it, but only enough to make out shapes. And there, a few feet off the ground, was a hole wide enough to stick a hand through.
The bald man stretched and turned on a wireless speaker. Some fast-paced techno beat kicked on and blared louder, dimming again to a reasonable volume. “There’s a chair,” the man said, gesturing to the curtain, “and a cup in case you need to, you know, spit. The bathroom’s over here, if you need to clean up. Otherwise, stay as long as you like. Ever done this before?”
Dylan shook his head. “Not like this.”
The stranger flipped off the light, though it was still bright from the window. “Well, we’re glad to have you. You’ll be a battle-hardened vet by the end of the day. We invited a crowd,” he said. “Just no peaking,” he sang as he closed the door partially.
Dylan went behind the curtain, sat in the old office chair he found, and swallowed hard. He felt a wetness against his thigh, and saw he’d already spilled some seed. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and undid the top buttons of his shirt. It was warm in the apartment. And-
Before he could finish the thought, Dylan heard the door shut. He couldn’t help but see that it was the same man as before walking toward him, in the second before the stranger approached the curtain. For a moment, Dylan thought the man had more to say. A meaty hand slipped a stub of flaccid cock through the hole.
Dylan watched it, suddenly frozen. A tuft of hair poked out from above it, and a hairy sack drooped over the edge of the hole. Dylan swallowed hard again. Then he plunged, pulling the soft skin of the penis into his lips like the sweetest nectar. His eyes shut in ecstasy as he pressed his nose hard against the man’s fur, breathing him in. He felt the foreskin peeling back inside his mouth. Dylan moaned hard and felt the first pulse of life against his tongue.
Dylan worked quickly, unable to slow himself. He felt like a thirsty man crossing the desert and finally tasting cold, clear water. Spit spilled from his lips. He gripped the man’s shaft and balls and he bobbed his head faster, pumping wildly against it. When the man came, Dylan drank it down greedily. He held on and sucked down every last drop the man gave, until the stranger forcibly pulled himself away. Dylan pressed his lips out through the hole, needing more. But nothing came.
And then the door shut again, and another stranger stepped forward.
The second was shorter, but the man behind the curtain moaned loudly enough that Dylan felt another spurt of pre-cum seeping out against his leg. The third took nearly ten minutes to finish off but, when he came, it seemed like he would never stop. Dylan sputtered and coughed out nearly half of it. And still the man sprayed him in the hair as Dylan hacked away on his knees.
The sixth man was the first one to ask him to come around the curtain and show his face. Dylan hesitated for a moment, thinking of the rules. Then he remembered that he didn’t owe their host anything. travesti istanbul With a finger against his lips, he emerged and gestured for the man to sit down on the bed. He held his eyes on a muscular young man, barely in his twenties, and he slurped his cock head until the man came in a sudden spray that Dylan directed onto his face. It felt like heaven when it dripped down from his forehead. Dylan caved, and unzipped his own fly, tugging his swollen red cock into his hands. The length of it was wet with pre-cum and dribbling wildly. Without waiting for permission, he tugged a half dozen times and suddenly buckled, spraying into his cupped hand at the last moment to avoid a mess. The man asked his phone number and Dylan whispered it eagerly.
It didn’t take much longer before his belly was too full for swallowing every time, and he had to resort to the spit bowl. The guests didn’t seem to mind. Only a few more asked to watch his face and, for them, he drank down happily. People came then left in a blur. He lost count of them and, after awhile, his jaw was aching and he needed a break. He wiped the mess from his mouth on a rag the owner’s had provided and he made his way back into the living room.
Dozens of eyes swiveled toward him, and he bowed into the bathroom quickly. He gargled twice, and scrubbed at his teeth with his sleeve. Then he wet a cloth and tried to remove the worst of the stain against his leg, and a few others that had sprung up across his shirt. When he could avoid it no longer, he unlocked the door and went back into the crowd.
“We were starting to think we’d have to pull you out from behind that hole!” someone shouted at him as he emerged. Dylan glanced around and spotted the bald man from earlier. “You don’t have to be in there all night, you know! We have others eager to help.”
Dylan felt suddenly quite flustered. “I didn’t mean to hog it.”
A few of the people around them erupted in laughter. “Don’t tease him, Bradley,” one of the other guests chided.
“Not at all!” Bradley said. “I just didn’t want him to think he had to spend the whole day locked away, that’s all. Are you,” he glanced down and found Dylan’s ring, “and your husband going to see the parade?”
“Wife,” Dylan said tightly. Everyone watching him grinned.
“Well, that explains the… ferocity,” one of the other strangers said, smiling wider. Dylan felt himself growing warm again. He was a tall black man with a slender build. Dylan thought he remembered him. He felt his cock stirring again from the memory.
“Sorry,” Dylan said quickly. “I’m a bit new to this. I probably should be getting back, though,” he said, glancing at the time. Molly would be off work in a few hours. Far more time had passed than he thought.
“The wife, sure,” Bradley said sadly.
“You don’t want to stay for a drink?” one of the other men asked.
“I daresay he’s had a few…” another stranger replied, and they all cackled with laughter. Dylan blushed brighter.
“Oh, he’s shy!” someone announced. And that did the trick, now his face was bright red.
“Well, before you run off, will you be returning?” Bradely asked, standing up straighter.
“Not tonight,” Dylan said, moving to step past them.
“Well, certainly, your wife needs tending to. But another?”
Dylan smiled and nodded quickly. The others seemed happy to hear it and Dylan paused. He looked around at the room. It was now nearly full to bursting. Everyone was a stranger. A few shot him glances, and seemed to grin with approval. They liked him, he thought. And there was no need to be shy now, he told himself. Not after he’d spend the day being used as a wet hole.
“Is there anything like this, but…” he started, and then suddenly felt embarrassed despite everything as he looked into their eyes. “You know,” he mumbled, looking past all of them, “in the… ass?” he whispered.
They watched him for a long moment.
“If you think you can take it,” Bradley said. He was no longer grinning.
Dylan’s cock pulsed hard against his pant leg. A few eyes darted to it instinctively.
“Oh, I think he can take it.”