Lockdown! Chapter 11
These are difficult times and good erotica can help us get through the next few weeks and months of isolation and social distancing. This fantasy is how I wish I was spending lockdown...
Now, permanent changes take hold...
It was near dawn and Lee gently rested his juicy foreskin on Kris's lips. He'd woken epically hard and now his thick cock perfectly lined up with the bottom's sleeping mouth. He clenched his pelvic muscles whilst slowly tugging his dick, forcing out a perfect droplet of precum onto the cocksucker's waiting lips. The tangy nectar had its desired effect and from then on everything moved in slow motion.
Although still asleep, Kris's hunger for cock was so deeply ingrained that his mouth relaxed and his lips parted on reflex. It was all the cue Lee needed and he pushed his ample, uncut, dick deep inside. The only concession the top made to the hardness of his morning wood was gripping his shaft at the base to ensure his foreskin completely peeled back. He didn't want anything to come between the cocksucker and his dick. All he had to do now was wait; wait for the bottom's natural instincts to kick-in.
Kris's tongue woke first, suckling the big helmet and finding comfort in the thick stream of pre-syrup flowing from its tip. Then there was a sudden throat spasm, the bottom alarmed at the lack of air from the inches of cock blocking his airways. Kris's eyes went wide and he inhaled deeply through his nose, filling his lungs with the rich musk of Lee's nighttime junk-funk.
Did the scent act as a pacifier? Or was it the weight of the thick slab resting on his tongue that calmed him? Perhaps the combined taste of salty sweat and sweet pre-sap flooding his mouth? Or did the sight of so many thick inches of dick, pubes and tumbling balls filling his vision do the trick? Either way, Kris's primeval instincts immediately swept it in. His eyes smiled with real delight: it was time to wolf down that fuckslab and milk the bull filling his mouth!
Some bottoms feel giving a blowjob is a chore, some tops think receiving one mere foreplay. Not Lee and Kris though, their needs were tangled together and perfectly in sync.
A thirst for cum, a love of worshipping big meat.
An insatiable need to spunk, an inexhaustible supply and an extreme desire to weaponise cock for pleasure.
And, of course, the two shared an absolute love of fist.
The previous night's session had proved that: Lee cuntjacking inside of Kris. It was a power-move and the bottom had a ring-side seat at the destruction of his pussy, watching Lee's every facial expression as the top slid both dick and fist inside his hole in one. The line between pain and pleasure had been cruelly exposed as wafer thin, but Kris knew exactly which side he was on. He'd urged the top on, moaning and crying, desperately wanting Lee to spelunk in his cunt. He wanted this, needed it... even if he was being wrecked. He found an insane calmness in the madness, as if he'd found his purpose in life.
At the end, it was difficult to know who had the most extreme and joyous relief. Lee emptying his giant sack with every ounce of cum his balls could deliver? Or Kris with his pussygasm that shook every nerve ending in his body? Either way, they'd shared it together, completely and utterly. From this moment onwards Kris knew what his hole was truly capable of and would never had a reason to say no. For Lee? Now he understood there was a special category of man out there who could take both dick and fist at the same time. Why accept anything less?
The session had ended with both men in a daze, although Lee was first to react. He slowly withdrew his cock and hand, before helping Kris down from the sling. This was tough as the bottom was still heavily secured in the straitjacket that had helped set the scene so well, but Lee managed to release Kris and let the heavy leather fall to the floor.
Slowly, gradually, they got ready for bed, quickly agreeing to use Lee's bedroom so the sling didn't need to be dealt with there and then. Kris climbed between the sheets first, exhausted by the experience but his mind travelling in a thousand directions. What had they just done? Would his hole ever be the same again? Was taking fist truly his real purpose in life? Only the feel of Lee's muscular body wrapping round him made him feel calm and secure. For the briefest of moments he debated saying how good it was to be spending lockdown with a big-cocked, fist-hungry and well-tempered stud. But as Lee squeezed hard, Kris realised the top knew that already.
That was yesterday though. Today their hunger for pleasure was driving them forward again. Lee had woken with a painfully urgent morning wood and Kris lying beside him looked so seductive. He'd quietly slid out of bed and walked round to the bottom's side. Luck was with him as Kris's head was tilted towards the edge. It took mere seconds to seize the moment, kneel down, and perfectly line his dick up.
Now the cock-hungry bottom was wide awake, fully alert and throat-impaled on Lee's mammoth fuckslab. That meant it was time to reposition for maximum effect. Kris knew exactly what he had to do, disengaging and swinging his body round to perfectly place himself for deep mouth penetration. He looked up to see Lee's cock standing erect and potent, fully expectant of unloading a fresh load of spunk. Although upside down, Kris also saw the tattoo that stood poised and purposeful to one side of Lee's meat: the outline of a cocked rifle and the words `make every shot count'. By now he'd seen it countless times, but every time he marvelled at the confidence behind that ink.
Lee said `ready?' and the moment of adoration, hunger and delight swiftly passed. The big-dicked top leant forward and threaded his cock into Kris's waiting mouth, finding his target with ease. He knew the bottom was warmed up so he had no hesitation in plunging the entire length of his fuckpole down in one. Immediately he felt Kris struggle for breathe, the bottom grabbing the top's thighs for balance and to push back with. However, Lee knew the cocksucker's true capabilities and that Kris wasn't afraid of his big dick. He started fucking with long, deep strokes, easily matching the bottom's hunger for cock.
And so it went... both taking pleasure from each other and knowing exactly what they were capable of. A bystander would have been hard pressed to know who was in charge. Was Kris self-impaling his mouth on Lee's cock, or was Lee forcing his dick inside Kris's throat? The truth was much simpler. For the bottom, cock was more life-giving than being able to breathe. He would happily impale himself to the point of almost passing out, wanting to deliver as much pleasure as he could to the man being gracious enough to fulfil his cock-hunger. For Lee though? He'd never experienced such a rapacious throat, one that could take every thick inch of his dick and not complain. In his horn he couldn't resist thrusting harder, ever faster and more intense.
All this time Kris was beating his own meat - painfully hard - especially when he was struggling to breath. That meant he just worked his throat even more, letting Lee feel the full abilities of his throat muscles to drive the top's orgasm forward. Lee squeezed the bottom's head hard between his thighs, forcing his dick even deeper and felt the bottom wildly gasp for air. He would give Kris exactly what he needed, fuck him!
Hell! Is there anything better than a cock spraying on your tonsils? Or nutting so hard inside a mouth that you feel your cum blow back on your meat? It was animalistic - violent even - but totally perfect.
As Lee spunked, Kris uncontrollably choked on the thick cum filling his mouth. The top pulled back, grabbing his dick to keep the orgasm going for as long as possible. Giant slugs of white jism ended up spraying across Kris's face, just as the bottom came himself in an ecstatic arc of jizz. He was drenched in man-spunk, a treasure trail of pearls from head to crotch.
Lee paused to take it all in. He was spent and the room fetid with the smell of sex, both men having built up an epic sweat as they chased their desires. Early-morning sun shone through the window blinds, lockdown London being blessed by gorgeous spring weather.
"How about it?" he asked, his tumescent dick still standing over the cum-drunk bottom. "Let's get some fresh air, we're allowed out once a day, right?"
Energised by the life-giving blow job, Kris didn't need any encouragement. He swung himself off the bed--
"So long as you wear my cum" said Lee. Kris was shocked. Were the top's eyes joking or deadly serious? He immediately knew what Lee was asking: it was a full-frontal, balls-out challenge. Was Kris man enough to wear Lee's cum on the streets? Was he confident enough to be pussy-marked, even given how deserted the streets might be this early?
Fuck it! Kris immediately gambled: two can play at this game!
"No problems" Kris laughed. "As long as you wear my smallest cock-ring and those tight grey sweat pants of yours." Kris left the words hanging. He knew there was no way Lee could possibly acquiesce: what he was asking was truly obscene. Lee was hung at the best of times, but for his dick to be super-engorged by a too small cock-ring and then to be displayed in exquisite detail by the top's figure hugging sweats? Lee would be fucking jailbait! Almost as extreme as Kris going out drenched in cum!
Shit.
The supreme confidence sweeping Lee's face meant the bottom knew he'd misjudged the situation. The top laughed and opened the door to Kris's fetish library, expertly rummaging for the right size ring. He brazenly held the thick metal up for inspection before forcing his junk through the tight aperture. It was a squeeze, not least as his dick was still heavy from the morning action, but he managed it. Barely pausing to take in Kris's amazement, the top grabbed his over-tight sweat pants from the floor and walked out of the room.
Kris was stunned, his game of high-stakes poker hadn't worked at all. Going outdoors with cum dripping down his body now felt impossible to escape without wussing out. He grabbed his own pair of shorts and put them on, almost hobbling himself in the process. He tumbled out of the room, picking up a tee on the way, still hoping he could at least wipe off some of the cum saturating his face.
Lee stood in the hall waiting, now wearing his sweats. The top's junk was obscenely on display through the thin, grey fabric. Nothing was left to the imagination, the constricting cock-ring bringing everything to sharp relief. Lee's heft, his length, his girth, even the flange of his helmet... Jesus, you could see every vein! What's more? Lee didn't seem to give a fuck. He was topless, his muscles and sleeve art on full display. More importantly, Lee's cocked-rifle tattoo drew even more attention to the top's dick.
"Jeez, how the fuck can you go out like that!?" asked the bottom. The explicit and brazen meaning of the tattoo couldn't be disguised.
This? Lee signalled towards his ink and mighty bulge. "Dude. I'm not embarrassed by my meat. Why do you think I inked myself like this? To make the most of it, to take confidence and joy in who I am. We all need to be proud of who we are, yes?"
Kris was perplexed. Be proud? Of what? The thick drizzles of spunk running down his face and body? Sure, the potent smell was keeping him horny, but there was nothing about wearing cum that made him feel proud. He subconsciously moved to use his t-shirt to wipe himself down, challenges be damned.
Lee stopped him cold. "You know, maybe you need to better celebrate yourself too?" The top had suggested the idea of cum-walking as a laugh, not expecting for a moment that Kris would take it seriously. But then came the bottom's cock-ring and the younger top couldn't help help rise to meet it.
Yet he also felt this moment was an opportunity. Sure, it was luck he was hung, but he'd never hidden his blessing. In fact, most of the time he enjoyed flaunting it: it was who he was, so why not?
The top knew Kris had a gift too: his cunt. The bottom had spent years crafting it, taking it under control, buying giant dildos to stretch and ream it out, pursuing tops to help make it bigger and better. Except on the surface you wouldn't know it to look. Maybe it was time to change that? It was an idea that'd been bubbling at the back of Lee's head for a while. Maybe now was the moment to seize the opportunity and help Kris be proud of what he'd created...
Before Kris could process the words a Sharpie had appeared in the Lee's hands. With a wry smile and a strong hand, Lee spun the bottom round so his back was now facing the top.
"You know, I think you should go out with some ink too, just like mine. After all, your cunt is magnificent - just like my dick. How many men could have achieved what we managed last night? I really think you need to own it..."
Kris gabbled, unsure as to Lee's meaning. The bottom felt broad and confident pen strokes on his back: the top was a gifted artist and didn't hold back from his vision. Then, Lee slapped the bottom's arse. "That'll do. Let's hustle!" he said, opening the door. Kris was mindlessly nudged out, his t-shirt thrown aside. What the fuck was he doing? Drenched in cum and now his back inked up... with what? What was he meant to be proud of? He was in a daze, stupefied.
The two half-naked men walked out onto the deserted streets, the sun bright and forming long shadows on the pavement. Sensing hesitation, Lee took Kris's hand and held him secure. His touch over-rode the other-worldly vibe Kris was feeling: if Lee could do this, to proudly flaunt his junk in public, then surely he could wear cum on his face and body?
He was woken from his internal reflection by the sight of a man walking towards them. Fuck, the streets were empty but did it have to be this man? It was a hot bear who lived nearby that Kris had seen many times but hadn't had the confidence to chase down. Even from a distance it was obvious the bear was enjoying the morning sun, a tight white tee, chest hair tufting at his neck-line, jumbo-packed shorts and ankle-high boots. He was casual, confident and seriously thicc.
"Relax man... own it" said Lee, not knowing or caring who the attractive stranger was. "Gays have been flagging our desires for years: a red, orange or even polka-dot handkerchief letting those in the know exactly what we're into, active or passive. All I've done is nudge that along... what use is having the biggest cunt in London if you don't advertise it?"
The startlingly words immediately cut through Kris's self-conscious. Till now he'd been worried about looking like a cum-dump, but now he had an entirely new set of worries. His hole was private. Yes, a big part of who he was, but not his public persona.
"I'm proud of your pussy" announced Lee. "You are too, right? We want the world to know". Kris didn't have time to think any more as the heavy-set bear got closer. He willed himself to be small, but holding hands with a young, half-naked, junk-pushing muscular hunk made that impossible.
A wry - no gigantic - smile appeared on the handsome bear's face as he took in the complete scene. Lee's big bulge and then recognition of the fluids coating Kris's face and hairy body. They nodded at each other, the need for social distancing stopping the cruise from following through. And yet the bear held their gaze as he walked past, and that was the moment when he saw what was drawn on Kris's back. His eyes went wide as they filled with hunger, his obvious lust filling his face. He couldn't help but react with a forceful fist bump directly at the horny couple, even as they kept moving by.
Jesus?! Just what had Lee drawn on his fucking back?! Apparently it's meaning was clear though. The bear would have taken down Kris's hole there and then if lockdown hadn't been in place. His pussy would have been ravaged, his cunt annihilated. His dick filled out at the thought, the mystery of not knowing powerful and desirable.
His thoughts were bought back to the road by another pedestrian approaching though, this time a woman walking her dog. Despite the cum on his face and Lee's junk literally pulsating ahead of his body, the elderly woman didn't seem to blink an eyelid. It was as if the couple weren't even there.
"See?" said Lee once the fusty women was past. "Walk with confidence and the people you care about will notice... but no-one else will give a shit, they're too immersed in their own lives. Maybe you need to stop worrying what other people think?"
The words hung in the air. What exactly did Lee mean?
Finally, they got home. Kris virtually hurled himself in front of a mirror to see for himself what on his back. What he saw amazed, shocked and appalled him.
Across the full width of his back was drawn a clenched fist, punching outwards, just like the emojis he'd used so many times on countless WhatsApp and Recon messages. The clenched fist was beautiful drawn - vividly real - seemingly crafted by a master draughtsman. Below a thick, wide arrow pointed towards his arse. Across the fist's knuckles were the words `JUICY CUNT'. As an advert it's meaning was unmistakable.
Kris couldn't believe it. He'd been outside wearing this?! He spluttered, trying to form words but not knowing where to start. It was fucking obscene! He could have been arrested, if not lynched! What if someone had seen him?
And then he remembered someone had...
"I know, right?! It's pretty awesome!" said Lee. "I got the idea last night. Seeing you in your straitjacket giving your cunt away so completely... your pussy is so amazing I think everyone needs to know about it. Permanently."
Everyone? Permanently? What the fuck did Lee mean? Kris was in disbelief. To be marked like this? To be so blatant about what he was into? At least with a red handkerchief it was temporary... but then there was that bear who was so hot...
"I told you I'm a tattoo artist, right?" said the top. He hadn't. "That's why I came to London: I get booked up months in advance. That silver case I bought with me? That's my gear, I take it with me everywhere I go. All this--" gesturing to his long, intricate sleeve "--is my calling call. I designed it with a friend to fully show off my skills. The ink above my dick though? Who do you think did that? Me.
So, how about it? Want to be marked up a cunthole?"
Fuck off! There was no way that Kris was going to be inked up like a fucking fist-whore. The mark on his back was obscene and outrageous. He shook his head in disbelief. Sure, it was a surprise that Lee was a tattoo artist but there was no way he wanted to take advantage of it.
And yet...
Part of him couldn't help but wonder... to be that brazen, to advertise the abilities of his cunt for everyone to see, he'd never want for serious fist addicts ever again--
Fuck! What the hell was he thinking?! He shook his head clear and walked away to clean himself up.
The bottom's retreating footsteps gave Lee an amazing view: a taut, bubble butt covered in tight Nasty Pig shorts. His arse jiggled invitingly. And above that? The arrow he'd drawn just minutes before, heavy and laden with the promise at what was between those cheeks. Then the clenched fist emoji above, leaving the capabilities of this man's cunt in no doubt.
Lee may have been new to fisting, but he knew desire. And he knew the power of ink to transform and to be true to ourselves.
"Kris--" called out the top, all whilst squeezing his dick, the shaft insanely thick in his hand. A damp patch oozed from the tip, the meaning of his precum blatant to see.
"You see how hard you make me?" his helmet flaring. "You look fucking stunning, a real pig to be used, impossible for any top to resist. I want to take you."
Jesus, what was Lee saying? He looked like a whore and that made Lee hard? And yet, of course, he was a fist-whore. His hole was always hungry, his cunt wanting to be used, to feel the pleasure hit from being stretched again and again. Even after the mammoth session from last night how could he resist?!
"I know that fucking look!" smiled the top. "Your cunt needs it, right? Fuck! When does it ever not need it? Christ, you're going to exhaust my fists long before your hole gives out! I'll make some lube up?"
Lee knew exactly what he was doing. He turned away, not needing an answer. They were playing sure as the earth moved around the sun.
Kris left to go get ready. Lee was turning out to be a fist-god. How could he say no? He wiped the cum covering him away, almost resisting licking the surplus off, and then cleaned himself out before a hot shower to reset everything to zero. He was ready to play again.
Leaving his bathroom he was surprised that the sling wasn't hanging. They'd left it up last night but now it was down. Yes, his play sheet was out (some toys too) but were they playing or not?
Lee walked in, dressed in a pair of Kris's long, leather shorts and a bar vest. The black leather and red stripes made the most of his body and he looked ready for action. He saw Kris looking at the set up and said "I thought we'd try a new position. Doggy style? On your front, taking my fists from behind?" It was almost as if Lee had been `researching' fisting porn online whilst Kris was getting ready. Surely not?!
The bottom had always been slightly hesitant about doggy style. For it to be successful the connection had to be strong, not least as you couldn't see each other. Kris had found his own solutions though.
"Okay... sure, let me position the mirror on its side. I like to see who I'm playing with" he smiled.
"I wouldn't expect anything less, stud" said Lee. As the bottom got things ready the top asked whether he could take some photos of the session. Something to remember playing with Kris by. And everyone needs profile pics, right?
Sure, said Kris, not realising Lee's intention to immortalise the art on his back forever. The hot shower hadn't done anything to remove it, the fist and arrow still there for everyone to see. Kris didn't know that and the two men started kissing and reconnecting, Kris naked and without gear in his desire to start playing again.
Soon, the bottom was on all fours and presenting himself. As Kris faffed with the necessary poppers and such, Lee seized his moment. He wasn't going to leave this to chance. He often used a tripod and Go-Pro to take time-lapses of his work. This was no different. Expertly, unseen and out of sight of the mirror, he positioned his camera to capture the scene in close-up detail.
As he turned back to the bed what he saw stunned him and he left Kris in no doubt of his desire.
"Fuck man! Your ass looks so hot! I can't believe we haven't done it this way already! Your bubble-butt looks stunning! Christ, you're making me drip..."
He can't hold back.
He plunged his fuckslab inside Kris in one - still engorged by the tight cock-ring - giving the bottom no warning or time to prepare. Kris's arse was there to be taken, so why not? Besides, Lee knew the bottom could take it. And so he did. Gripped, caressed and loved. And yet so loose and fleshy and sloppy. A better home for a hung dick couldn't be imagined. It was an epic shag, and Kris felt every punishing inch, but he didn't know what was really driving the top on...
Lee had been a tattoo artist for years. He loved marking guys, making their fantasies real. He was good at it too, in high demand. However, he'd never branded anyone with such a fucked up or obscene tattoo as the one he'd just drawn on Kris...
He'd thought about it though. He was a deeply sexual man with a dick that wouldn't quit. Giving a bottom a cum slut' tramp stamp or a cocksman a my dick won't quit' brand? He loved that shit! As he ploughed away his drawing on Kris's back drove him forward. His dick was harder than he could ever remember. He wanted to make this happen. It would be so fucking hot... to permanently mark Kris as a manpussy. To make the bottom's dreams come real: the biggest cunt in London. That would be something to live for.
He couldn't hold back a second longer and unloaded deep.
Thankfully Lee was a repeater. He could load and shoot, time and time again. He withdrew his fuckslab, wiped any lingering cum from his shaft onto his hand as lube, and then plunged his fist inside Kris. He had warmed up his cunthole's pussy and now it was time to really use it.
And that ink? That ink was fucking calling him on. He didn't take it slow - after all the tattoo didn't say slow down' or pussyfoot around. It said juicy cunt', and that's exactly what Lee needed. And Kris wanted to have. 24/7.
By now the bottom was in hog heaven. He could feel Lee inside of him plundering his pussy with a fresh and bestial energy. It was insane and intense, an energy he'd never felt from Lee before. The morning walk completely forgotten, now he went with it, giving every ounce of his being to be punched and used. Lee grabbed the bottom's ball sack with one hand to secure Kris's body so he couldn't escape or pull back from the top's fists.
Jesus-cunting-Christ! "Punch my cunt! Please" screamed Kris.
Lee did it, forming his hand into a clenched fist and slowly (but confidently) punched inside Kris's waiting and blown-out pussy.
"No!" cried the bottom. "Harder... please... wreck my hole"
Who could refuse? Soon it became a competition. Lee would reach around to kiss the tormented bottom and they'd agree a new number to reach. 50 full fist-punches in a row? Hell? Why not a 100? 250? There was no limit to their depravity. Every punch was pure cuntal-pleasure, main-lined into their souls, maximising out Kris's pussy.
Hours later Kris asked whether he could see the photos Lee had taken. The top was playing a long game and was delighted he'd managed to hold out from showing the horny pictures before the bottom asked. They were going to be a real treat... he'd surreptitiously removed the Go-Pro long before Kris had come round at the end of their session and the bottom had no idea what he was about to see...
Lee handed over his phone, relaxed, as if nothing was at stake. Or different.
What Kris saw stunned him. It was clearly him, on all fours, graphically and expertly taking a fist. But was it him? He looked like a total fist-pig. An arrow lining up with Lee's intense punches. A clenched fist advertising exactly what he wanted. Cunt-destruction. Christ, he could almost hear himself moan! He couldn't help his pussy twitching as he swiped through the pictures. Big flaps! Big punches! Pig-heaven!
Normally he hated porn with him in it but this was something different. He was speechless. It was like nothing he'd seen before, he looked hot as fuck. Dangerous, scary, branded. But the sex had been so amazing and Lee had given him exactly what he'd wanted. How could he not have this again?!
From that moment on, the mark was sealed. It was inevitable and couldn't be escaped. To deny it was to refuse his purpose in life.
It was then the doorbell rang. Who the fuck could that be? It was lockdown and Kris wasn't expecting anything. Lee merely looked nonplussed. He went to the door. Waiting outside was a large, rectangular cardboard box and he picked it up, heavier than he expected, so much heavier.
He bought it into the flat, still surprised, not having a clue even though it was addressed to him. He looked bewildered as he set it on the table, deeply curious. Distracted - the porn of his destruction forgotten - he started to open it.
Lee smiled and couldn't hold back. "It's from me... I think you'll like it..." said the top, happy his order had finally arrived. It's tough relying on the internet but sometimes...
Kris looked up, not knowing what to say. He was still Lee's landlord for lockdown but presents and being a ffuck-buddy complicated things. He cut the box's seal and opened the cardboard flaps.
Oh my god. It took him a moment to work out what it was. A black, heavy metal frame making an open box about 18" square and 36" long. An electric motor - evidently powerful - inside the frame. All connected by silver metal levers to some kind of track that looked like it could move--
"Do you like it? Given your hole development I knew only the best fuck machine on the market would do. You did say you wanted the biggest lockdown pussy in London, right? With my ink on your back and this reaming your cunt out they'll be no turning back!"
Next: things get intense...
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In the meantime, comments and suggestions are welcome at stuhadley77@gmail.com and my previously published stories are:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-first-hand-school/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-reintegration-centre/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-curse-of-troy-fletcher/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/the-wish