“Some People Collect Stamps…” (The Pas

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“Some People Collect Stamps…” (The Pas
Having a glory hole in your own home doesn’t mean that your going to be sucking dick every day of the week (though in a perfect world, that would be really great). Sometimes, for whatever reason, I won’t have a single visitor for whole week, and sometimes even longer than that. So, you just get on with the rest of your life, and patiently (and sometimes not so patiently!) wait for a text message from a potential contact!

Following my last glory hole patron experience, a long, long dry spell ensued, and I’m talking about damned close to two whole weeks! I was starting to worry that my days as a cocksucker were over for some reason! I started to get a bit edgy, and downright cranky at times, which even the other guys where I work at the machine shop began to remark on! 

But then, I got a text message from a guy who I had formerly serviced, a pastor of a local church, who’s wife (so he claimed, though I had no reason to necessarily doubt his story) was suffering from a bad case of MS, and they hadn’t had sex (obviously) for over a decade, and though (he claimed) he loved her very much, he missed having sex! He felt guilty for ‘sneaking around’ as he put it, behind her back, as well as having sex with another man (me), so he tried to square that by making the curious distinction (a false one?) that at least he wasn’t ‘cheating’ on her with ‘another woman!’ Personally, I found his logic a bit bogus, but I didn’t say that; after all, I was more than happy to relieve the poor guy of a load of otherwise useless sperm; and, though he said he ‘felt bad’ for doing that…at the moment he was coming in my mouth…HE SURE AS HELL DIDN’T SEEM THE LEAST BIT ‘BAD’ ABOUT IT!!! People often lead their lives on multiple sets of books, so to speak, and that’s pretty much how things are here on planet Earth (for human beings at least)!

When the guy showed up at the glory hole (punctual as always!), I’d forgotten that he tended to wear a cock cage (an expensive metal one, and not the cheaper plastic ones). After he had undressed, he handed me the key to the lock which secured the device around his balls, as well canlı kaçak iddaa as over his entire cock.

“Do you wear this all the time?”  I asked, feeling surprised, and more than a little curious.

“I do most of the time,” he replied. “I take it off to shower, and a few other times, but I generally don’t leave it off for very long.” As he explained that, there was a distinct sense of personal pride in the tone of his voice.

“Does your wife know you wear it?”

“No. She doesn’t.” He replied.

“So, how IS your wife doing these days,” I asked, and then felt that I probably shouldn’t have asked him that.

“No better. But that’s the way MS works. Eventually, there’s no way but down,” he replied.

“Sorry,” was all I could say to that. Then I unlocked the small padlock with the key he’d handed me, and I soon had his cock and balls free of the cage; and he sighed as that occurred.

“That feels good to get that off, at least, for a while!” He said, as he inserted his cock through the glory hole.

He had a nice cock. It was about six and a half inches in length, and nicely circumcised (something I really like a lot), and it curved just slightly up words, too, giving it a jaunty, eager quality. I reached out and took hold of his balls, and tugging on them slightly, he stepped up against the glory hole, and sighed once again in anticipation.

I leaned forwards and kissed the underside of his cock head (the frenulum), what is essentially a guys clitoris, and then I gave it a series of slow, teasing licks with my tongue. I admit I love teasing a guy like that! Most of my visitors are in a hurry, and don’t have the time for me to give them that sort of attention, but this guy, I knew already, loved being repeatedly teased like that! It added to his already elevated sexual frustration, but that was what this guy got off on! He WANTED me to tease him, to torture his libido, and to ‘punish’ him (a word he, himself, tended to use frequently)! So, what the hell! If that was what the guy liked, then I’d damn well put him through the fucking ‘wringer!’

As I slowly, teasingly, worked his cock over (as well as keeping a fairly tight grip on his balls—another perabet thing he enjoyed) he stood pressed up against the divider panel and moaned softly. Since I’d not had a cock to suck in such a long time, I was eager to do so, and yet I didn’t want to rush through the experience; and so I had to keep reminding myself that it was okay to slow down and take my sweet time with this guy; and I did just that!

I’d noted the time I started working this guy’s cock over. 7:10 PM. Now it was 7:25. Usually, that is, most of the guys that came by, lasted, on average, not much longer than five minuets (and sometimes a little longer). This time, however, I was shooting for something more like forty-five minuets; which wasn’t going to be easy to reach, but, if I was careful not to get him too stimulated too fast, I might be able to reach that mark!

So, I began a rythym with him where I’d pump my mouth along the length of his cock five, six, maybe seven times in a row (but doing so very, very slowly), and then—I’d suddenly let his cock slip out of my mouth!

“Oh–God!” The pastor would moan.

I’d kiss his balls, kiss his cock head, and even just barely lick it with my tongue…but I wouldn’t resume sucking his cock until some of the urgency I’d been provoking settled down a little bit! This was the sort of ‘teasing’ I really LOVED doing to guys! It drove them fucking wild; and I loved it!

“I’ll bet your wife never did ANYTHING like THIS, huh?” I suddenly said, breaking my normal rule of little or no talking.

“No,” he said, his voice muffled slightly through the divider, but I could hear the honesty in his tone, and the way he had emphasized the word No!

“Am I…better than her pussy?”

“Oh, YESSS!” He replied, immediately, and without hesitation; and I liked that. I liked it a lot!

I resumed my slow, steady, mouth-pumping along his glistening wet, and rock hard cock. I could take his seven inches all the way. My nose would bump up against his abdomen, and for a few seconds, I hold it there like that, letting his cock soak in my mouth—and then, and especially if I felt his cock starting to twitch suddenly, I’d slide perabet güvenilir mi his cock out of my mouth once again; and leaving him trembling, on the edge of orgasm, but not quite far enough over the edge to explode! That was the ultimate goal, of course, but I wanted this particular moment to last at least a little while longer!

It was selfish of me, I know! But it was also something he, himself, wanted as well! For him, the whole experience was inextricably linked to ‘suffering’, though a very curiously pleasurable type of suffering! He was being ‘punished’ for being a sinner! He was torn between his hunger for sexual release, on the one hand, and his sense of duty to his ailing wife. I understood that. Adding his religious beliefs to all this just added more feelings of conflict! His curious form of ‘penance’ for all that; the metal cock cage he’d chosen to wear, was another aspect of the conflict he wrestled with! But…I had to admit…I was taking advantage of this! But did that make me a ‘bad’ person? Wasn’t I providing him with the sexual fulfillment he desperately wanted, even needed?! I hadn’t forced him to come to the glory hole. He had chosen to come here. He had SOUGHT IT OUT! Deliberately!

I eventually managed to control his moment of orgasm for the full forty-five minuets I’d originally set out to accomplish; and when he did come, the intensity of it, the depth of the pleasure of it’s release, surprised even me (who had been the recipient of a lot of very intense orgasms)!

When the strength of it began to subside, and as I felt his cock slowly going limp, I let it slip out of my mouth; and as I did, I heard him say: “My GOD! That was INCREDIBLE! Thank you SO, SO MUCH!”

“You’re welcome!” I replied, and I savored the taste of his sperm in my mouth, and then I swallowed it.

As he dressed, he thanked me once again, and I handed him the key to his chastity cage. As he was putting it back on, I told him that he didn’t really need to wear it, and certainly not for me. “If you don’t want to wear it,” I said, “don’t. Not for my sake, at least.” 

“Yeah, but  want to wear it. I have to.” He was already resuming the role of the penitent sinner, the sinning husband. It seemed unnecessary to me, but it didn’t seem that he thought of it that way! That was obvious. So, who knows? I thought. Maybe he really needs to act that way? Who am  to say that he doesn’t?!


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