Page 56 - Leather Blues
P. 56

44                                          Jack Fritscher

            went away so I could strip down, put on his oiliest, oldest
            leather jacket, open the drawer and beat my meat. Those
            pics of that guy torturing cock! Drove me crazy. Every time
            I sneaked them I grabbed my dick rougher than before. I got
            to tying it up tight with rawhide so I couldn’t cum for hours.
            Sometimes I felt more like the master and sometimes more
            like one of the slaves. I’d shoot and smear the cum that hit
            my face into my eyes and mouth and rub the rest of it over
            my chest and belly. I think that’s what made me so hairy. I
            had a great time all by myself,” Chuck laughed.
               “I bet you did,” Den said.
               “It lasted about three weekends. I guess he saw I’d gotten
            into his drawer. I can laugh about it now, but the way those
            big guys set me up scared the shit out of me then.” Chuck
            tamped a new pack of cigarettes on the trunk, peeled it open,
            and lit one. “There were six of them going on a run that
            weekend. As soon as they left, I went into his room, pulled
            the shades, and opened the drawer. I had about enough
            time to get my wang up to where you can’t stop when they
            kicked in the bedroom door. Those fuckers were all over me.
            I fought them when I could see them. I could hardly breathe
            under all that leather and sweat. They pounded the shit out
            of me. It was like the picture had come to life. Their cursing.
            The crack and smell of all their leather. One bearded dude
            kept spitting in my face.”
               Den felt his cock growing in his jeans.
               “In two seconds flat they had me on my belly and hog-
            tied. Hands to feet to balls. So tight I couldn’t move. They
            left as quick as they came in. I was alone in the dark. I
            couldn’t move. My cock was hard under my belly. I had
            already tied that up myself. The strain at my wrists and
            ankles ran straight to my balls. I pitched the slightest bit to
            the left and felt myself starting to shoot way up in my belly,
            but my balls and cock were tied so tight nothing came out.
            It all backed up and hurt like hell.”

                ©Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights Reserved
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