the Slave - a First Time Story

Tentatively but with determination, I took small steps toward my master, my unrestrained wood wagging with each move. I could feel the dampness of the drips of pre-cum under my bare feet that had fallen to the hardwood floor. I stopped just before I stepped to where his feet were. My cock involuntarily flinched as I wondered what his next move or instruction would be. I realized there must have been enough light for him to see it move and was silently studying the motions. After what seemed several minutes, I felt him gently but firmly grasp my cock, initially under the pronounced ridge of my dickhead. Large confident fingers explored the length of my joystick, swirling fingertips playing with the sticky wetness of the pre-cum that had now soaked the whole head. I had never had a man touch my erect cock until now, and IT WAS HEAVEN. At the moment I let out a little sigh of pleasure, I heard a little rustling in his chair. Apparently, he bent forward just far enough to stick his large left hand between my legs and start caressing my right thigh. The sensations were so exquisite, I didn’t want him to cease. Stroking my cock with one hand, and groping my legs, underside, around to the bottom of my buttocks with the other. His deft substantial digits were subjecting me to the most marvelous massage of my lifetime. I breathed heavily and focused as he gently fondled and probed my balls through the skin of their sac, checking for size, shape and how they hung. I loved it how he would firmly caress back my thick blonde bush away from masculine organs, tickling and pressing my pubic bone. At one point, I realize I had unconsciously bent my knees slightly facing outward as well as leaned my hips facing him. Unwittingly, I had enabled him to have a better vantage point to “feel me up” this way. 

I would have been ecstatic had this continued all night. As it was however, he stopped, and just as abruptly he cursorily commanded me to turn around. With my back facing him, I was astonished at how rapturous it was to have a man fondle my buttocks. When I first felt his touch I flinched and flexed my butt muscles. I think he liked this because I heard a slight gravelly grunt of pleasure. I luxuriated in the intense feelings as he firmly squeezed and kneaded my buns. My fright returned to me as he matter-of-factly commanded that I bend over and spread my ass cheeks. Thoughts raced through my mind of a doctor’s check up suddenly gone awry. Once again, I was surprised by the incomparable pleasure of his fingers tracing circles around my puckering butthole. From time to time his fingers would move down and probe my crotch and the exposed underside of my nut sac. When last he groped around my twitching orifice, he pushed directly against it with two fingers in a stroking motion. Rather than being pained by this manipulation, I was so pleasurably sensitized by it that I found myself leaning back to meet the thrusts of the ramrod handiwork. I instinctively expanded the muscles of my bowels, as if to defecate, to allow those able fingers to penetrate
my now inviting sphincter. For a few seconds he stopped stroking and slowly squirmed those digits in my most intimate body part up to a couple of inches, I hoped this would continue indefinitely, but when he tried to squeeze in a third finger, I squirmed with discomfort. Suddenly, he pulled his hands away. 

“Stand up and turn around facing me again,” the low voice snapped. I abruptly complied and stood facing him, my cock flinching more than ever, now dripping like a leaky faucet, but also trembling, terrified that I had offended him with my obvious resistance. Again, nothing happened for the longest time as I suspect that again he was studying my fear mixed with obviously excited anticipation. Clearly resulting from his prior manipulations, he surmised that I was uncut or he would not have insisted on my next movements. I was to pull my foreskin over the head of my dick and stretch it out from there. I was to let him know when I had fulfilled this effort of genital handiwork. Nervously, I fumbled about my slick hard dick struggling to get a hold on pieces of foreskin, the wetness eluding a firm grasp on these small morsels for very long. Luckily he seemed to be patient with my clumsiness. Finally, my fingertips on both hands managed to hold onto bits of outer flesh to stretch my normally superfluous skin over my exposed knob and stretch it out as far beyond the end of my still throbbing cock as I could pull. It was exciting to me that he probably studied me doing this and it felt comfortable to have this flesh once again envelope its familiar partner. I softly spoke that I was finished. His plump fingers with thorough tactile investigation warmly reached out to take hold of my straining organ to softly and securely feel my outstretched skin, the ends of my own fingers stretching the skin, and the covered dickhead. He then ordered me to stop stretching while his fingers still gripped my cock. This was followed immediately by a quiet rustling noise from what I had deduced must be a filled armchair. . . . . . 

The moment was ELECTRIC and surpassed every sensation I had been pleasured with to this point. I felt what seemed to be a warm sponge flick the underside of my cock just below my still swollen dickhead. And yet the firm cogency of motion from this sponge suggested it was alive. The feeling of hot breath on my cock and balls was the dead give away that this was the exploring tongue of my master. The heated electric charges that flowed through my loins up through my torso and back down through my legs to my toes is indescribable. 
My bucking and flinching cock was being bathed by the tip and body of his tongue from the tip of my expanding pee hole to the root at the base of my thick bush. He sensed that the building heat in my loins was near the exploding point as my moans became louder. He sat back and very gently stroked my shaft to slowly allow me to back away from the point of eruption. 

I don’t know how long this pleasing respite lasted, but suddenly I heard him bend forward again and felt my dickhead being embraced by a firm warm wetness and then his tongue swirl around it, generating more of those lustful electric charges. As his mouth gradually slid its way down my shaft, I marveled at how superior a blow job I was receiving from this man than the sloppy half hearted efforts by a couple of girls with whom I had been intimate. I felt every swirl of skillful tongue and every suction against my turgid flesh. My hips reflexively thrust my ramming rod deeper into his mouth and then his throat. Even now, I felt resistance to my situation as it was apparent from the feelings and noises what it was that he was pursuing with gusto and unabashed enthusiasm. My intellectual insistence to not surrender my climax to him only intensified the buildup of heat and tension in my nether regions. I could no longer sublimate that I never reveled so much in my naked state, never felt SO ALIVE. This was by far the most deliriously sensual and erotic moment of my life. My cock banging against the squishy walls of his relaxed throat was more intense than I could bear. This was the sensation that triggered the unmistakable churning in my balls that every male past a certain age knows to be the point of no return. The wave of ecstatic heat and release passed from balls to loins to the root of my dick, through the passageway of my cock, and squirted out my gaping pee hole into his mouth and throat. Wave after convulsive gut wrenching wave of heated cum squirted out of me. The back of his tongue flinched against my orally gripped organ in response to each effluence of liquid offering. I had ejaculated with the greatest intensity of my life and I do not know if I have ever shot out so much cum in any orgasm since then. The climax seemed unending. After carefully swirling his tongue around my now softening manhood one last time to assure himself that he swallowed every last drop, he released me. 

****************** 

At this point, I believe we were both breathing heavily. Before he completely caught his breath I heard a loud rustling in his chair. He evidently was writhing to remove an article of clothing and his hair matted calf pleasingly brushed up against my ankle in the process. 

When the sounds ended and he seemingly was sitting up in the seat as before, he slowly and deeply spoke, “now it’s your turn. Get down on your hands and knees and place your head above my lap.’

I felt almost resentful but not surprised as I obeyed this command. I felt almost instantly revived as I caught an exhilarating whiff of his man scent. My eyes had now better adjusted to the dark and I beheld before me his thick majestic fully hardened cock resting against his lower abdomen. I had seen other men’s erections of course in straight porn, and I had always imagined myself indifferent to them. I was hardly indifferent to this magnificent specimen however and couldn’t take my eyes off it. Oh, if there was only more light in the room to better observe the details of my newly discovered “objet d’art.” It must have been at least 7 1/2”, cut, with a sumptuous “straight arrow” dickhead, the ridge sloping to an artful curve. It had a stunningly wide girth and a substantial tunnel that ran along the underside from the base to the dickhead. Two impressive orbs hung from a mature low ball sac. This mesmerizing display was surrounded by a beautifully curled and tousled heavy bush, which more than a couple inches up lightened to a handsome graze, spread over the entire lower abdomen.

I think he approved of the trance like expression on my face. I was practically drooling and I felt the same heat build up in my loins. Once again I felt my own male parts stir and swell with renewed passion. Satisfied that I was stimulated by what I saw, he more good naturedly commanded me to gently grab hold of his penis, observe it and stroke it. But more menacingly, he insisted that I was not to look up from his lap. Throughout his session of dominance, he was to remain strictly anonymous. Furtively but decisively I reached out for the gorgeous living sculpture that pulsed with my grasp. The heat that leapt into my hand and the silky smoothness that covered this turgid fleshy wand was a defining moment in my life. I hope the reader will not be offended when I say that being granted the privilege to handle and more carefully study this vivacious living appendage was nearly a religious experience.