The Plan

[Casper1980]

He arrived home late and tired, after two long days of working away.

He is around 5.9. Reddish brown hair, with a lean muscular build. His eyes are that sort of blue that changes with mood and weather.

Expressive.

I can always see when he is in pain, when he is aroused, when he is feeling mischievous. He is

handsome, in that way that English guys usually are. In an almost cold way. Everything about him screams propriety. Seeing him completely debauched is something special...

But I digress.

I sent him suggestive texts on Sunday because I was feeling horny. When he arrived home, late at night. I tried to approach him, but he begged off sex, apologizing. But knowing him as I do, I decided to take that as challenge. If I played my cards right, I would get what I wanted and perhaps more.

I started by giving him a massage - I’m good at those. I have strong hands and patience. Attention to detail. I started with his shoulders, skimmed down to his back, breaking his knots of tension. Melting them. By the time I got to his ass he was already wriggling in a way I could easily identify. You know, it when bottoms start digging their hard dicks into the mattress....

I continued kneading his ass, over his underwear. He has a nice ass. Not a giant bubble, but firm, with a soft layer of fat for the jiggle. The type of ass that looks fine in suit trousers and riding pants. I occasionally ground myself into him, making him feel how hard I was.

I flipped him over. He secretly likes it when I use a bit of force. His pupils always expand when I do that. I worked on his chest a bit. Just as he was starting to arch against me, I moved suddenly into his personal space. I kissed him passionately and grabbed at his hard dick. Hard.

 

[Casper1980]

He is uncut, six inches I would say. It was tenting his undies, pulsing under my hand. He groaned and lightly bit my lips. Just as he started to reach for me, I stopped. Gave him a peck on the forehead, and then I huddled him to bed.

His expression as I did that was fucking funny. Teeth gritted outrage. He knows me well. I was innocently doing what he asked- I was not going to push for sex tonight, and he could not complain.

My plan was already in motion. I know how he gets when he is horny and unfulfilled.


I woke him up next morning by rubbing up against him and grabbing his hard dick. It was a hot night, and we were both sweaty, so gliding against him was easy. I think I leaked all over his leg... Again, I could feel him pulsing on my hand.

Leaking as well.

I nibbled at his throat. Said good morning. Asked how he was feeling. Not relenting in my hand. Squeezing him and watching him try to maintain composure and reply.

He is so fucking British that even today, after almost ten years together, he still tries. He insults me halfway through, calling me a perv. But he does. And then he stretched like a cat under me. When I got him close to cumming, when I felt him pulsing, I let go and got up. My hand was dripping.

Time for work!

If the previous night he gritted his teeth in annoyance, he was downright pissed off. Called me a wanker for leaving him like that and threw me a pillow, which I dodged, with a laugh.

When I came from the shower, he was jacking off in the bed. There was a flush on his body, and his dick was dark pink and angry, pulsing between his fingers. Close to coming.

But not under my watch. That wasn’t going to happen, because it would ruin my plans.

I walked over slowly, stopped his hand and told him that he needed to wait. I smiled when I did it, but I meant it. He tried to stroke it, but I tightened my hold just slightly, before letting go. He told me to fuck off.

But he did as he was told.

 

[laptoper]

Nice. This should be fun!

 

[Casper1980]

Nice. This should be fun!

Keep reading mate ;-)

 

[Casper1980]

Throughout the day I kept the pressure on. He works from home, so I kept sliding a dirty message occasionally.

Promises of what I would do to him. Warning him that he should be prepped and ready when I got home, because I was feeling horny. And again, I kept the tone light. A joke that wasn’t a joke.

He doesn’t like the Dom/Sub dynamic that gets me going - it’s not his thing. He doesn’t like the dirty words, the loss of control through debauchery with a hint of humiliation that I like to dish out to studs, who are always in control, when they are in the right headspace. So, I have to be clever about it. Keep my iron grip under a soft glove.


Things at work are stressful. And stress means that my dick is like a metronome, it bounces at the slightest provocation. I sent him a dick pic from the bathroom. A fucking dick pic, like a teenager. A nice shot of my fat dick bulging sideways in my fitted grey suit trousers. Then another of it jutting out, a pearl of pre-cum glistening in the tip. Outside of the booth, I could hear my colleagues coming in and out and washing their hands.

I hadn’t done something like that in years. When you are married you just don’t. It looks good in pictures. A brown slab of thick veiny meat.

I was vibrating all the way home. A mix of hornyness, frustration at work and expectation of what I was going to find at home. I was half hard all the way home, using my folded jacket as a shield in front of me in the train - pretending to listen to an audiobook when the only thing that I could think was just how I was going to get off when I got to my destination.

I rushed off from the station, taking almost two steps at the time. When I got home and turned the key. I said hello from the corridor, as usual. I was kneeling on the floor when he to meet me in the lobby. He was wearing a T-shirt that has aged enough to be loose and clingy in all the right places. He had shorts on and was barefoot. The shorts were tenting slightly. He didn’t say anything.

 

[Casper1980]

His eyes said everything I needed to know.

I got up, dropped my backpack, shrugged off my jacket and cornered him against a wall. We kissed frantically. The type kisses that have teeth in them. He went for my neck to undo my tie. I was so hard at this time, my bulge looked obscene on my crotch. I rubbed myself against him and he kind of grunted in my mouth. His eyes were all black now, the blue a thin line against the iris.

My hands slid down his shorts and I zeroed in on his hole. And fuck, if he hadn’t taken my advice. He was wet with lube down there. It surprised and aroused me so much that I pulled out of the kiss to just look at him as I pushed my finger in.

He was flushed. His lips had that rosy bruised tone that you get when you kiss a man properly. And I just wanted to eat him right there. Words were bouncing around in my head, words that belong to the world of domination that I knew he wouldn’t like. So, biting them back I took his gift with grace and rather than saying what I wanted to say, I acted like what I wanted to say.

I treated him like I would a slut in the old days. I turned him around and pushed him against the wall. Pushed his shorts down and fingered him, biting at his ear and grating my teeth on the back of his neck alternatively. I was able to fit two with ease. The fucker must have really opened himself before I got there.

I asked him if he had already come today, and he didn’t say anything - just shook his head. I pushed shorts down. He took his T-shirt off, while I fumbled with my zipper and belt and pulled my dick out.

I was so fucking hard that getting out of my briefs was a bit painful. I pushed him into the wall, one hand on his back. With the other I grabbed my dick and teased his hole. I pushed in, tentatively. We’ve been married for a while and he is used to take me, but although I was wet with pre-cum and he had lubed and opened himself, it was still a risk.

I pushed in.

 

[Casper1980]

He gasped but didn’t tell me to stop. I continued pushing, while burying my face in his hair. He just gritted his teeth. But there was a point - I bet you had this - where you just push past the tightness and just slide in in one go? And everything inside him is hot and tight and squeezing you. When you are balls deep in a second and the only thing you hear is a deep exhalation of his breath as he makes space to accommodate you.

Fucking dirty and hot.

I looked down. I always love doing that. It’s the contrast of the skin. His hole is pink. Hairless. I love to see it wet and distended around the veins of my fat dick. I love the contrast of the chocolate brown of my skin and the soft pale pink of his peachy ass.

After some seconds and some grinding, I pulled him back from the wall one hand on the throat, another in the waist, making him lean back and look at me.

We were both breathing deeply. I asked if he was ok. He grunted the word “lube” but didn’t make a move to pull off. I reached down with one hand and grabbed his cock. Rock hard. Slapping against his flat stomach. Leaking like a fucking faucet.

I jacked it once, and then another time, and then another and he just spilled in my hand. He spasmed around me and I bit my tongue. It was not a full orgasm, because my grip on his cock stopped it. But it was close. When I turned his face in my direction awkwardly to kiss him his eyes were just glazed. His mouth was searching for mine. He was totally mine. Split open on my dick, as far as I could go.

Then I did something I rarely do. I cock marched him to the bedroom. Holding onto his dick. It was awkward, it was slow.

But it was so hot. To feel him contract around me. To know that he was finding the pleasure of all of it more than the discomfort. It was intoxicating. We’ve been fucking for ten years. This had no business being as hot and horny as it was.

 

[Casper1980]

When we got to the bedroom, I crushed him in our bed with me still inside him. Our mouths were a blur of awkward side kisses. I was getting off on grinding him through the mattress with my dick and my body, heedless of my slacks -that at the moment were a wrinkled, sweaty mess. Heedless that the buttons of my shirt that pressed into his skin. The fact that he was naked, and I wasn’t was unexpectedly hot.

I decoupled slowly, attentive to his winces. Then I tore my clothing off, because I just wanted to have him. I could see the indentations that my shirt buttons had made on his back. He scrambled to the bedside table and got the lube out.

When I had stepped off my clothing, he threw it at me, and told me to fuck him. I asked him if he was sure. I squeezed the gun oil my hand, a large dollop, that streamed between my fingers. I coated myself. Moved deliberately to the bed, cornering him against the headboard, lifting his legs and adjusting him to my level. I used a bit more force than necessary, and he took the manhandling with a hard dick and a surprised smile.

There was no hesitation when I speared into him now. I just pushed until I bottomed out, heedless if him. I crushed myself into him as deep as I would go. I stayed there, grinding against him. He bit his lip.

I groaned.

Inside he was hot and alive. Squeezing me like a vice. He gritted his teeth in determination, His muscles were taut, a bow of tension against me. Inside I laughed. He was challenging me.

He was pushing back. He wanted me at my wildest. And I gave him just that.

I pulled back to the tip and buried myself inside. I pummeled him. My dick stabbed deep, ground even deeper. From the fat head to my pubes. I ravaged his mouth while I did that, sweat coming off my brow in rivulets.

I had to stop myself again Inside my head there was that torrent of words wanting to push out. The small humiliations I sometimes have the need to give.

- Tight fucking whore...

- Tell me you fucking want it...

- Open those legs slut, and keep them open...

- You like that fat dick splitting you open...

- Squeeze that hole for me...

- How does that fat black dick feel inside you...

The dirty endearments, the horny mocking and the cajoling. Tender abuse that makes my blood boil when I dish it out. But here he was, giving me what he could give me, eyes glazed, dick exploding under my rough hand. And fuck if I didn’t cum inside him.

At the end of it he was out of breath and so was I. He laughed, passing his hands through the cum, stretching like a cat, he kissed me again, rolling us on the bed. And in his smiling eyes I found a sort of peace.

Love makes you do strange things. Or, in this case, not do strange things…

The end