Muscular Man for Rent

by Emeric Varady

  “I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?” I asked him—belatedly, I realized.

  “Oh, no, not at all,” he assured me. “That was wonderful … it was exactly what I wanted you to do to me.”

  “That’s good. Did you come?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “If you’d like to come now, just say the word. And let me know how I can help you,” I volunteered. “I can give you a hand job … suck you … or—?” I glanced around the bedroom. “In the meanwhile, do you have a towel around here, anywhere?”

  “I can get you one from the bathroom. But, no. I don’t want you to wipe your cock off. I want to suck it again. I want to clean it off with my mouth. I want to taste my ass on your cock.” He quickly turned over, and sat up on the bed. “Wait.” He picked up the jockstrap, and handed it to me. “Put this back on, first. Let your cock rub against it. Get it even dirtier.”

  He was kinky!

  I was still standing beside the bed. My cock had lost none of its rigidity, post-ejaculation; it jutted out in front of my groin. I pulled on the jockstrap, which pulled my cock and balls up, and I pressed my cockshaft against my flat, hard stomach. The tip of my cockhead peeked out from below the waistband of the athletic supporter. My john sat motionless on the bed for a moment, staring covetously at the bulge my genitals made inside the pouch of the jock. Then, with a hand that trembled slightly, he reached for it.

  His ass had in fact been quite clean. He may have been one of those guys who douched regularly, in anticipation of being fucked. My cock was smeared with the lube and my cum, but it wasn’t really dirty. Nonetheless, he seemed excited by the prospect of sucking it, right after it had been inside his ass. But he delayed his pleasure for a moment, rubbing his palm over my cock and balls through the jockstrap.

  “Oh, you’re still so hard,” he marveled. “Even after fucking me, even after coming in me, your cock is still hard. But of course you’re hard everywhere. Your whole body … all of those muscles—!”

  “So you like my body, huh?” I taunted him. “And you like my cock?” I specified, shoving my hard-on at him.

  “I love it!” he moaned.

  “You want that dick that’s just fucked you in your mouth, do you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then start sucking,” I told him.

  I was getting turned on by the prospect of getting into some sort of a domination scene with this sexy young number. I felt flushed from sexual excitement, and when I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, I confirmed that my skin was turning a rosy pink. I was hyperaware of every pore of my hot, sweating skin. I’m sure that my john could smell my sweat and my body odor, every time he inhaled. But, far from being repulsed by my grubby condition, he was definitely getting off on it.

  With a suppressed cry of excitement, he lunged forward on the bed toward me, and he captured between his lips the thick bulge my cock made in the pouch of the athletic supporter. His fingers juggled my balls through the elastic fabric of the pouch, and then he pushed the pouch to one side and freed my cock from the jock. He eased the tip of my bloated prick past his tongue and sucked it deep into his mouth, moaning with pleasure when my meat filled his mouth and throbbed against his open, gaping lips, which now surrounded the very base of the shaft.

  I spread my legs wide and I bit my lip while I enjoyed the hot, wet pressure of his mouth working on my prick. He was a good cocksucker. He knew how to use his tongue to lick every bit of a man’s penis, while he applied a strong, steady suction from deep in his throat to milk the glans.

  I put my hands on his bare shoulders, and pulled him closer to me, ramming the full length of my erection down his throat—really fucking my horny john’s sexy face with my rigid iron. Seeing him, naked and servile, kneeling before me with my meat choking him, really aroused me.

  I suddenly wrenched myself free of his arms, only to spin around, bend over, and push my exposed ass into his face.

  “Rim it, motherfucker,” I ordered him, harshly.

  I was deliberately being very rough with him, because I was curious to find out exactly much of such treatment he would take. He didn’t disappoint me. He rimmed me, all right—without hesitation, and as though he was genuinely hungry for my ass. The taste of my hole seemed to intoxicate him; grunting, he buried his face between my buttocks, kissed my pucker with his open lips, and darted his tongue in and out of my flexing anal aperture.

  There’s nothing quite like the feeling of a dedicated, insatiable tongue worming its wet, slippery way deep between your butt cheeks, through your sphincter, and in and of your asshole. Watching the two of us in the big mirror—my hulking figure so strongly contrasted to the john’s smaller, lither frame—I gripped my cock in my leather-gloved fist and I began to jerk off slowly, to keep myself fully erect and to intensify the pleasure the hot ass-sucking was giving me.

  Not for the first time, I almost allowed myself to forget that this was a commercial transaction, that I was providing a service for a fee. With this hot little dude eating my ass so eagerly, so unselfishly, I was really beginning to enjoy my work!

  The guy’s tongue in my ass was getting me hot back in there. Even though it was, strictly speaking, a deviation from conventional leather sex rules, I wanted a cock up there, too. I wasn’t too worried about bending the unwritten regulations a bit. After all, this could hardly be described as an orthodox scene in the first place!

  “Have you ever fucked a guy with a body like mine?” I asked him, in all immodesty.

  He interrupted his licking of my ass long enough to answer. “No. You’re perfect. So big and hard … all those muscles,” he moaned.

  “How’d you like to fuck me?” I reached for his dick and found it stiff and straining, moist with pre-cum at the tip, throbbing ferociously within my gloved fist. It felt like a suitable tool for the job I had in mind. “Do you think you’re man enough to fuck a real muscle stud like me?”

  “Yeah,” he groaned, his breath hot and moist against my buttocks as he spat out the single word between two licks of his tongue into my sphincter.

  “But with me dominating you while you fuck me,” I suggested. “That could be kind of interesting—kind of kinky.”

  “Yeah!” he repeated, more excitedly.

  I reached behind and under myself to slap his face—none too gently.

  “Keep licking and sucking my ass,” I instructed him. “Get it nice and relaxed … wide open for your dick. This is your lucky night, buddy. You’re going to fuck a muscle man.”

  He pressed his face between my buttocks and his lips and tongue worked frantically on my asshole. It was such a hot rim job that I hated for it to end. But, after luxuriating in the oral-contact for a few more minutes, I finally wrenched myself away from him.

  “Okay, that’s enough of that—for now. Get on that fucking bed!” I ordered him, with an authoritative edge to my voice.

  He obeyed immediately, obviously delighted at being given commands.

  I licked my fingers, wetting them with my saliva, and then I closed them around his cock and began to play with it. Like me, he was uncircumcised, which I prefer in my sex partners, and I watched the foreskin rolling up over the swollen head of his dick while I pumped my fist up and down on it, rather roughly. He moaned, and I began to feel more comfortable in my dominant role. So I grasped his face firmly in my other hand, turning it from side to side as though he were indeed a slave I was thinking about buying at a slave market. Coolly, appraisingly, I ran my fingers down my arms, felt his pectoral muscles, his thighs, his ass—all impersonally, and almost disdainfully, although I had to admit—grudgingly—that he had a very nice build, for a non-bodybuilder. I caressed his chest, pinching his nipples hard, and I poked the tip of one finger between his ass cheeks. All the while, I kept rubbing my naked body against his, to tantalize him. I continued to masturbate him, too, but with a deliberately lighter grip, so that there was no danger of him coming before I wanted him to.

  I was too horny to
deny myself anal satisfaction for any longer. I had to have his cock up my own demanding ass. And so I took what I wanted. I slowly sat down on him, feeding his rampant prick inch by torturous, teasing inch up into my hot, tight asshole. As I forced his dick inside me, he whimpered loudly, clenching his fists. His cockshaft plugged my butt.

  I squatted over him and I began rocking my hips back and forth, fucking myself into oblivion on his potent young stud prick, appropriating it for my own selfish pleasure, and ignoring my john’s desires for the time being. Not that my fucker seemed to mind! I was giving him a good, hot, sweaty ride, and his stifled cries and squirming movements beneath me all too clearly betrayed his violent excitement.

  “You’re fucking a bodybuilder,” I reminded him. “How’s it feel? What’s it like to have your cock shoved up that muscle ass of mine?”

  “Good—oh, so good! You’re getting me so hot, so turned on. I can’t stand it. I think I’m going to come!”

  “Not until I let you.”

  I leaned forward and pinned him down on the mattress by his shoulders, moving my ass up and down and from side to side on his cock, so that it rammed deep into me but was forced to twist and bend at painful angles inside my hole. But I didn’t mind the discomfort. I felt only frantic pleasure, as my ass spasmed wildly and greedily around my john’s big, thick cock!

  While I rode him, he stared up at me. He saw me leaning over him, holding his shoulders down on the bed with my gloved hands. He trembled violently under my muscular weight as I humped my ass down against his groin to bury every inflexible inch of his prick in my hungry asshole. Then he started making deliberately half-hearted and futile efforts to struggle out from under me.

  “I don’t want to come,” he protested.

  “Sure you do.”

  “Make me,” he whispered, looking me directly in the eyes. I had rarely seen such desperate need in a sex partner’s face. “Make me shoot my load!”

  “No problem.”

  I began to tighten and relax my sphincter muscle very rapidly, squeezing it around the shaft of my fucker’s cock as hard as I could each time. This contraction technique rarely failed literally to squeeze the jism out of a guy’s dick, and it didn’t let me down on this occasion. My trick gaped at me, as though he was in shock. He gasped. He stared up at me, at my face, with an incredulous expression on his handsome features, as though he didn’t know what had hit him.

  When he tried to reach up and grab hold of my pecs, I seized his wrists in my hands and pushed his arms back down, pinning them to the bed.

  “Please,” he gasped. “Let me touch your body—your muscles—!”

  “Not now,” I taunted him.

  “Please, oh, please!”

  He twisted his powerful young body to and fro under me, so that his flesh, lubricated by our mingled sweat, slid freely against mine.

  “Lie still,” I warned him.

  “Please let me touch you!” he begged, still squirming, still rubbing himself up against me.

  I only bore down on his crotch harder forcing every inch of his pulsating cock deep into my ass, and as I did so, I flexed my shitter for all it was worth. I felt his fuck tool flinch and quiver inside my heated rectum as it probed my anal depths. Finally, though when I thought I could detected genuine frustration on his face—when I sensed that the exciting masochistic element in our furious sex play had reached its peak, and if I prolonged it, it might turn into real anguish for my partner—only then did I let go of his wrists.

  “All right,” I told him, casually. “Go ahead and touch me, all you want.”

  He made the most of it—I’d never seen anybody move so fast, certainly not with another man sitting on him, impaled on his cock! With frenzied eagerness, he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down, lifting his head at the same time, until his face was crushed against my chest. He licked and sucked on each of my nipples in turn, and then he attacked my armpits with his lips and tongue, too. His hands slid down my torso until they found and caressed my protruding prick, which was dribbling a steady thread of pre-cum from the slit in its tip. And then his hands flew around behind me, to my ass, squeezing my buttocks, massaging and kneading them. All the while, I rocked on him, still fucking myself on his seemingly tireless cock.

  The bed shook under us so violently that I expected it to self-destruct at any moment; but still we fucked on. Both of us were panting for breath, and sweating profusely from the effort of our sexual combat. I turned my head and glanced at our reflections in the mirror on the wall. It was a hot sight—as good as anything I’d ever seen in a porn video!

  “Oh, God! Mindjárt elmegyek! [I’m coming!]” my john cried. He sounded almost frightened by the prospect.

  “Do it,” I urged him. “Shoot in my ass!”

  I increased my pelvic gyrations, and my asshole bit down around his cockshaft and held onto it, without flexing or relaxing its grip. He made wild whimpering noises as he licked and sucked and bit my nipples again. I felt his cock swell and spasm and spurt deep inside me, and his hips and buttocks jerked, providing the force behind his ejaculation. He tore his mouth away from my aching nipple and let out a hoarse shout of raw, orgasmic agony, tossing and heaving under me. He came and came inside my convulsing ass, bringing me off at the same moment. My cock exploded. My frothy white jism flew out in blobs, raining down upon his chest and throat; a couple of wads even landed on his face and in his hair.

  He got one wad in his open, gaping mouth, and his throat worked in desperate, anxious swallowing motions. Our ejaculations went on and on, until I literally couldn’t take it any longer, and I forced my anus to relax and stop milking his prick dry—although it continued to blast its hot sperm into me. The last few bursts of his semen drenched the hairy, sweaty crack of my ass after my body slipped off his cock. At last he subsided, and his limbs with limp, his face purple and turned aside on the rubber-cased pillow—which was running with sweat, as was everything else all around us. He looked completely drained, and he was probably starting to feel a little embarrassed about what we’d done—as a lot of johns do, once they’ve ejaculated.

  But I wasn’t quite satisfied. The session had turned me on so much that I knew I had to come again, before we were finished.

  “I want to come again,” I informed him.

  “Can you?”

  “Of course,” I said, with insouciance. “Want to help me?”

  “How?”

  “I’ll show you.” I freed myself from his dripping cock, and, with some difficulty, I managed to shift my position. Even though I was used to doing squats at the gym, my knees felt a bit stiff after my long ride on him. “I want you to suck your cum out of my ass. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’ll sit on your face, and you can rim me again, like you did before. You can lick out my ass with that hot mouth and tongue of yours.”

  He looked a bit apprehensive, but he didn’t object, or move. I got astride him again, and moved up until my knees were on either side of his head. My asshole, wet and glistening with his own freshly deposited semen, hovered a few inches above his mouth.

  I lowered my butt cheeks onto his face and pressed my recently fucked asshole firmly against his panting lips. He must have been tired after the long workout we’d just had together; but he did his best to satisfy me. His tongue burrowed deep into my ass, and he began to lick me greedily, groaning with obvious pleasure at the taste of my hole. Once again, I watched in the mirror, enjoying the sight as well as the feel of his agile tongue busily licking its way through my anal pucker and tickling the lining of my anus.

  I rocked to and fro, sliding my ass over the guy’s open, slavering mouth, while he tried so hard to please me. I felt my excitement grow steadily, and I moved faster and rubbed myself against his lips more insistently, feeling all of my muscles, but especially those in my groin, tensing up, until my back was arched and rigid, my teeth were clenched, and my gloved hands shot down to pull my rimmer’s face even tighter against my seething anal opening.
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br />   “Suck my ass, you fucking freak!” I bellowed, like a bull on a rutting rampage. “Get that fucking tongue of yours all the way up in there and clean out my ass! Can you taste it? Can you taste your own cum in my ass?”

  He couldn’t answer—not with my butt jammed against his face like that. Frantically, his tongue worked inside me, swabbing out my hole.

  And then, abruptly, I came again, without even touching my cock. I could hear myself making smothered sounds of delight in my throat as my sperm flew out of me and deposited itself in wet puddles on the bed. It was a quick, low-velocity ejaculation, compared to the one I’d had while riding my john’s cock. But it was very intense and satisfying.

  When my prick had stopped shooting, I quickly released him, suddenly aware that I must’ve half-suffocated him in my frenzied excitement. But, once again, he didn’t seem to mind what I had done to him.

  On the contrary, lying there, looking spent, he praised me.

  “Oh, that was so good!” he declared. “So damn good. You’re incredible. You’re the best—” He hesitated.

  I suspected he was going to say something like, You’re the best whore I’ve picked up in a long time. I’d have been willing to accept that in the spirit in which it was no doubt intended, as a compliment. But he caught himself.

  “That was the best sex I’ve had in a long time,” he said, instead.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. I’d been in his apartment for two and a half hours. I didn’t begrudge him the additional thirty minutes, and I certainly had no intention of being crass enough to charge him for them. “Ah … is there anything else I can do for you?” I knew that asking the question made me sound incongruously like a sales clerk, waiting on a customer in a department store. But there was always the possibility of reopening negotiations, for another two hour session, or even overnight.

  On this occasion, though, I’d done my job only too well. My john was sated.