Because so many of you messaged me and told me you needed it…
My Friend Dylan
Part 5
The following Saturday morning Dylan and I were at his house in the game room hanging out. The weather was lousy and we were planning on being indoors. His Mom had gone somewhere with his two younger siblings for the day, leaving only us and Brad. I knew that this would lead to some kind of wild day. How could it not?
I asked Dylan, “would you ever let your dad do more than just watch?” Dylan was quick to respond, “I’d let him stroke my cock. I’d let him play with my asshole or finger me.” I guess the only part that surprised me a little by that point was how quickly he answered. It told me he had thought about it before. I went on, “Dylan, the way he was looking at your cock when he was sucking mine…” Dylan interjected, “yeah, I know. He was imagining it was mine. I’m not dumb.” I asked him, “it doesn’t bother you?” He answered, “of course not. Why should it?” It was clear that Dylan was just on a different level than most people. He had an elevated way of perceiving the world, analyzing it, and understanding it.
“Well, since you’re willing to let me stroke your cock and finger your hole, do you guys wanna come to the playroom?” Brad was in the hall and he had been listening to our conversation. For a split second, I was mortified and my heart was in my throat. I had a very brief mini panic attack. Then, he walked in and Dylan didn’t even really react, so I calmed down immediately. Dylan looked at me and asked, “do you wanna go see his playroom?” Dylan stood up, gave me his hand to pull me up, and said, “let’s go!”
We went down the hall to the opposite end of the house and up a flight of stairs to the third floor. We walked through Dylan’s parents’s bedroom and then through their bathroom into some kind of bonus room behind that. I was stunned to see the “playroom,” which looked a little bit like a “dungeon” or a kink room like you see in BDSM porn. There was some kind of bench in the middle that looked like it was from gymnastics. There was a swing hanging from the ceiling in the corner. There was a huge automotive toolbox on wheels that had some kinky shit on it — whips, dildos, butt plugs, masks, you name it. Suddenly, I understood what Dylan meant a few weeks back when he told me how kinky his father was. Apparently, this family didn’t keep many secrets from one another at all. I had a quick vision of poor Rosa coming in here to clean and I laughed out loud a little bit. Then I think I must have been in silent awe as I took in all of what I was seeing. Dylan broke the silence with, “are you gonna be Ok?” I just looked at him and said, “yes, of course.” Dylan smiled and said, “good, then take your clothes off,” and he reached for my shirt. We all got completely naked. Brad was totally hard already, his dick was stiff and standing straight up. It really wasn’t very big, but it was making a presence in that moment, standing at full attention.
Brad said to Dylan, “since you are willing to let me stroke your cock and play with your asshole, why don’t you get on the bench?” Dylan didn’t even hesitate. He went over and climbed right up onto it, straddling it like pommel horse, sticking his ass right up in the air. His asshole and mouth were basically at exactly the right height for accessing. I suppose that bench was designed for exactly that. To me, it seemed like Dylan knew exactly how to mount the fucking thing, and he seemed very comfortable on there. Then again, Dylan was just so comfortable in his own skin. Nothing really ever ruffled his feathers. Brad had four rope cuffs that he used to strap both of Dylan’s wrists and ankles to the bench. Dylan didn’t offer any resistance whatsoever. He wanted it.
Brad inhaled sharply. I think he had another brief moment of clarity, but then it passed. He came up to Dylan from behind, reached under him, and grabbed his cock. He began slowly tugging at it, and it got very hard, very fast. Dylan was definitely enjoying it. I was just standing there naked watching. I wasn’t sure what my role was yet, and it was a lot for me to process mentally. I was rolling with it all though.
After a few minutes, Brad decided it was time to explore Dylan’s hole, finally. He told me, “give Dylan’s cock some attention while I get at his hole.” It was interesting, because clearly Brad was taking more control this time. Suddenly, Dylan was being submissive. Maybe because now we were in Brad’s playroom…
Brad got behind Dylan, grabbed both of his ass cheeks, spread them wide open, and took a really good look at Dylan’s perfect little blonde pucker. He inhaled deeply, and the wave of pleasure that rolled over his face as he took in the rich aroma of Dylan’s hole was clear. I knew he wanted to plunge his tongue into it, but he resisted, and instead spit on it, and then pushed his index finger right into it. Dylan lunged forward a little bit, and he inhaled. His cock throbbed hard in my hand when he felt the finger inside him. His eyes rolled back in his head a little bit. He was clearly experiencing real pleasure from this. Even though Dylan was in a submissive position, he was actually being serviced at both ends by both Brad and me.
Brad was really getting into Dylan’s hole. He moved on to two and three fingers. He was working it, really finger-fucking it. Brad’s dick was bobbing the entire time, even beginning to drip pre cum. I was still working Dylan’s cock, but being careful not to let him get too close to cumming too soon. Dylan was very vocal during sex. I liked that about him, because it was so different from how he was in other contexts. Normally, he would be a relatively quiet, unassuming person. Pants off, however, he was pretty god damn fucking wild. No one would ever suspect or believe he was a freak in the bedroom. Perfect!
Brad withdrew his fingers from Dylan’s eager hole, walked over to his tool bench, picked up a huge black butt plug, and came over and showed it to Dylan, who was still mounted on the bench with his wrists and ankles bound by those classic ropes. Brad waved it in front of Dylan’s face and Dylan smiled, snickered, and said, “see how he picks the BBC of his toys for me? It’s because he knows his tiny little cocklet is disgracefully inadequate and could not possibly satisfy my hungry hole!” Wow! There he went again with the degrading talk to his father. I have to admit, it made me hard. Dylan saw my dick bounce, and he commented, “see, you love it too, Mike. You really are pervert, aren’t you?” I could only smile and agree with him.
Brad lubed up that plug, which I soon learned also had a remote and had all kinds of vibrating features. He put the tip in, rotated it around inside the entry to Dylan’s hole for a few seconds, and then drove it home! I was shocked at how Dylan’s asshole opened up and devoured that thing! Dylan gasped, but took it all, and then begged, “yes, please! Fuck my boy pussy with that BBC!” Brad pulled out all the stops. He had that plug completely inside Dylan’s hole all the way to the base. Dylan was mounted there and the contrast of that black butt plug base against his white skin and blonde complexion made me nearly cum without touching myself.
Brad said to me, “see how he’s so mouthy all the time? We’ll fix that.” He went back over to the tool bench and grabbed a red ball gag with a black leather strap. He instructed me, “hold open your friend’s big mouth!” I looked at Dylan for approval. His look was all I needed. I grabbed my friend’s mouth — top and bottom — holding it open for Brad to put in the large red ball and then fasten the black leather straps from the back of Dylan’s blonde head. The image of my friend in that moment like that is seared permanently into my mind’s eye: Mounted and restrained, ass up, legs apart, cock as hard as it can get and dripping, black plug in asshole, red ball gag in mouth. Was this reality? My straight stud friend was the star of a live BDSM porn flick in his dad’s dungeon, and I was a central player. What the fuck?!
Brad handed me the remote to the butt plug saying, “here, you’re in charge of your friend’s asshole for the time being.” Then, he went around and grabbed Dylan’s cock again. Now, he was only giving Dylan forward strokes. In other words, he was grabbing Dylan’s cock at the base and stroking it away from him — no down strokes. This was clearly driving Dylan insane. He had the gag in, but he was struggling to voice his opposition. Blabber and slobber were escaping from all around the red ball. His face was a hot mess. Dylan was sweating like a hog. So, I took the remote and put it on the most intense setting to see what would happen.
Dylan’s body lurched forward violently, jerking against the restraint, and he let out a huge muffled roar. His ass was sticking straight up and back. It was hard to tell what he was asking for. Brad was stroking his dick and he was probably pretty close to cumming. I thought it was a miracle that Dylan had not cum yet. I had to start touching my dick. It was so god damn fucking hard that it actually hurt. I was punishing my friend’s hole with that plug. I could not believe the power I had been given with that tiny little remote.
Brad walked back to the bench, his cock in his hand, and he grabbed a long feather on a wand. He came back to Dylan with it, waved it in his face, and then gave him a few more of those slow, forward strokes. He would get Dylan painfully close to busting, and then leave him hanging there — literally. Then, he took the feather, and tickled just the tip of Dylan’s bulbous, drippy, throbbing cock head. It appeared to be pure torture! Brad alternated a long, slow forward stroke, with a tease of the feather on Dylan’s meatus a few times. Then, he took the feather and ran it quickly the other way, down, and towards Dylan’s body. Dylan was trying to fuck into it. He needed a down stroke so fucking badly. I felt for the guy. I wanted to reach down and do it for him. His dad was clearly going to deny him that down stroke indefinitely. Brad tormented him, “Yeah, you need a stroke or two in the other direction, don’t you? You need it! Admit that you need it!” Dylan was making so much noise, but he was totally incomprehensible with the ball in his mouth. The slobber continued to flow. Then, with some more teasing with that feather, the cum just started spraying from Dylan’s cock, as it bounced up and down. Brad exclaimed, “there it is. Look at all that fucking cum! Look at the mess you just made! Impressive, son!” Brad turned to me and ordered, get down there on your fucking knees and lap up your friend’s cum, you faggot! Without hesitation, I did just that. I made sure not to miss a drop. I regarded it as liquid gold. I did love the taste of my friend’s cum, and I knew I was lucky to be able to have it.
Brad was jerking his dick pretty hard. He came around and started jerking right in Dylan’s face. Dylan’s eyes were wide open and just a few inches from Brad’s dick when he began erupting cum right on Dylan’s face. It was in his eyes, hair, and over his mouth and the red ball, mixing in now with the spit and slobber. Dylan’s beautiful face was a total fucking wreck, though somehow, he still looked fucking hot to me!
Brad ordered me, “clean up your friend’s shitty face with your tongue, you faggot!” I was still shocked to hear him speak to me like that, but I immediately complied. I began licking up everything I could from Dylan’s face and the ball. He was just there immobilized, looking at me for some kind of relief. It occurred to me that know I had consumed all of both of their cum. I really was some kind of slut!
Brad went behind Dylan and withdrew the butt plug. Dylan’s eyes rolled back in his head. Brad came around and showed Dylan the nasty black plug, completely covered in Dylan’s asshole juices. He commanded me, “you love the taste of your friend’s asshole so fucking much, show him! Lick this fucking thing clean and prove to him how much you love it!” I didn’t hesitate even for a second. I got up as close as I could to Dylan’s face with the plug, and I deep throated it, sucked it, and tongued it clean, savoring every droplet of his asshole nectars.
Brad undid the strap of the ball gag, and yanked it out of Dylan’s mouth. Dylan’s face was so god damn fucking red. He exclaimed, “you two nasty fuckers! One of you is nastier than the next!” Brad said, “maybe so, but you were the one strapped to the bench, a ball gag in your mouth, a huge black plug in your ass, begging to be fucked, and your face covered in my cum! You’re a depraved, twisted, fucking faggot!” Dylan retorted, “maybe so, but I have a much bigger dick than you!” It was true, Dylan would always have that over his dad. Yet again, it was the only thing that actually mattered.
All the dirty talk was too much for me to handle. Still jerking my own dick fervently, I went over and busted right in Dylan’s face. He opened his mouth, and I shoved my dick in. He sucked every last god damn fucking drop of cum from me like he was dying of thirst. Brad began to un-do the rope cuffs from Dylan’s wrists and ankles. After all that time, Dylan needed to climb down from that position. He must have been tired and in a little pain by now. When he stood up, his knees were so red. They looked like the centers of two Japanese flags. He had bright red rope rashes on his wrists and ankles.
My friend looked like such a wrecked mess, but so fucking good all at the same time. He was standing there just trying to catch his breath. The room was a total shit show. There were fluids and shit everywhere. It must have smelled like fucking hell in there. Brad went and opened up all the windows.
Dylan instructed me, “go in the shower, get on your knees and open your mouth, you filthy slut. I need to piss like a race horse.” I wasn’t going to miss out on that! I went in and waited for my prize. Dylan came in, lobbed his weary dick onto my tongue, and unleaded a torrent of strong, frothy, hot, steaming yellow piss. I was guzzling it as best I could, but I was losing some out of the sides of my mouth because it was coming too fast and too furious for me to swallow.
Brad was just standing there observing the scene in satisfaction. He remarked, “that’s my boy!”
The End…?