87. The Toolman and Date Day

Before our trip to the park, The Toolman and I had planned to spend the day together when I returned from my trip. I had missed him while I was away and while the trip to the park had been amazing fun, it was only an hour and I needed more time to enjoy him.

As usual, I asked him to text me when he was an hour away so I could get up, shower and be ready. He messaged me at 10am to tell me he had just woken up but would be at my place as quickly as he could. I relaxed, only a little disappointed I had to wait, knowing I now had ninety minutes at least before he arrived.

After about twenty minutes he text again to tell me he was showered, dressed and on his way but the traffic report said the trip would take another ninety minutes.

Bugger, I thought. Oh well, I would shower and dress and have some breakfast while I waited.

Freshly dressed, no make up and teeth not yet brushed, I sat down with my bagel and coffee on the couch to indulge in some morning television while I waited. Two bites into my bagel I looked up to see The Toolman standing in my doorway smiling.

Bastard had texted me from up the street, not an hour away!

The Toolman came in and collapsed on my sofa. He was tired and this day off was going to do him some good. He encouraged me to finish my breakfast but the only thing I had an appetite for now was him.

We joked that I had better finish getting ready so we could go out and not succumb to our instant desire to hit the sheets together. I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth while he waited. After a minute I came out to ask him a question, only to find him reclining, stark naked on the sofa with his big hard cock in his hand.

I smiled and walked toward him, still brushing my teeth, picked up my phone and snapped a photo of his naked glory lying before me. Wordlessly I put down my phone and went back to the bathroom to spit and rinse and giggle my ass off.

I returned to the living room and The Toolman was still naked. He stood up and placed a cushion at his feet and smiled at me. I knelt on the cushion and began to tease the tip of his cock with my tongue. He moaned and snaked his fingers through my hair to the back of my head.

“Take it all. I know you can.” The Toolman pushed my head down on his cock.

I resisted and continued to take my time pleasuring him.

“Come on, you should have been practising.” He pushed my head down again and his enormous cock rammed against the back of my throat. Tears sprung to my eyes as I lost control of the situation and realised how strong he was and that I was choking and struggling to breathe.

I smacked his thighs and pushed back but he didn’t release me right away. I kept smacking his legs and managed to spit him out of my mouth.

“Don’t fucking do that!” I snarled. “It’s not funny.” It reminded me of The Country Dad and a couple of others, which weren’t happy memories. It also reminded me that I was defenceless against him if he decided to get mean.

It dawned on The Toolman that I was serious and, helping me to my feet, he apologised and kissed me. I wasn’t happy and, while I know I am making an excuse (bad feminist), it was clear to me he hadn’t meant any harm and was embarrassed by his actions.

I shook it off and finished getting ready and we headed out to the car. It was a sunny day and we had a pleasant drive along the coast, talking about our lives along the way and I learned a little more about him, his marriage, family and work. Just before noon we arrived at a pub where we could sit outside to eat and admire the sea views.

There was another couple there and immediately The Toolman gauged my interest in them. They were reasonably attractive and being highly affectionate with each other, so all I was really interested in was outdoing them in a PDA contest.

The Toolman and I got our drinks, perused the menu and got to talking, somehow, about his adventures as a younger man at gang bangs. The Toolman explained to me how he found a group of men and women who would regularly meet for sex. They called themselves “The Colts”, like some kind of sporting club, and one guy was the organiser. They would meet at someone’s house, usually one or two women and around six guys. Some were married and would only stay an hour or two before heading home to their families (“just working back for a couple of hours Honey, I won’t be too late”) and the single guys would stay a little longer.

They would all have sex, briefly, with the woman, take turns giving her oral and kissing her while she fucked another guy. Sometimes they would give each other oral too. Gotta pass the time between turns somehow, right? The session would usually end when the woman tapped out, saying she was sore or had simply had enough. The Toolman pulled out his phone and signed into their private online photo gallery. He scrolled through the pictures they had taken almost ten years ago and told me about some of the people in the pictures. He remembered all the women’s names and told me how nice and sexy they were.

I wasn’t shocked, he had told me about this before and I had seen some of the pictures, but this was the first time I heard the full story of those times and how it all worked. While I like to keep a wide open mind, I don’t relate to the women who participated in this scenario. I find that situation terrifying. I can’t see myself trusting the men involved to be respectful and non-violent. How can the woman remain in control of the situation and what chance does she stand if anything goes wrong? The fear is too overwhelming for me to be turned on by that. But perhaps for some that is the exciting part. Being the sole object of desire for a room full of men. They all want you, they all want to fuck you, they all want to touch you.

But that is all they want. I am all for casual sex (in case you hadn’t noticed); it can be fun, you meet some interesting people and you learn about yourself. What I don’t understand is the attraction of being penetrated by ten different dicks in all your orifices until you can’t take any more. And don’t get me started on bukkake. I don’t want to drown in the cum of a dozen men. Where is the sensuality and pleasurable sensation?

The Toolman put his phone away and we ate our lunch. We talked about food and the scenery before getting back in the car to take the scenic route back to my place. The Toolman mentioned something during the drive about me dominating him and it sparked arousal in me. After his shenanigans of that morning plus the pictures of those women surrounded by men and their hard dicks, I was in the mood to take back some power.

We got home and told him to shower and douche before I stripped him down and made him lay in the centre of the bed. I spread his legs and teased his asshole with my finger. The Toolman moaned softly as I worked up to one finger, then another, then another, then added a bullet shaped vibrator. I bit and pinched his nipples as he twitched beneath me. I loved keeping him pinned to the bed, surrendered to me. I enjoyed pushing into him hard and having him take it. The power was mine again and I spanked his ass so he knew.

Spent the afternoon watching him squirm with delight while I massaged the inside of his ass and stroked his cock gently. The Toolman responded with moans as I teased him until he could take it no more.

“Sit on my cock Gorgeous, please”. His eyes were wide and full of desire.

“Don’t you let that vibrator fall out.” I warned.

The Toolman obeyed and I rode him to the point of orgasm before sliding off and watching him spurt all over his own stomach.

While he convulsed I teased the now highly sensitive head of his cock with my tongue and mouth, making him jump and gasp.

The Toolman repaid my kindness by easing his hand between my legs and stroking me to a toe-curling climax. We lay together face to face afterwards, kissing urgently and deeply.

Shit is getting intimate, yo.

2 thoughts on “87. The Toolman and Date Day

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s