3. BENJI #2
As he fucked me, my dick and balls were rocked.
He used both of his hands to grab my legs, so my dick was neglected but still ready to cum.
Daddy’s dick pressed and throbbed against my prostate like an anal massager, and now, I think he was waiting for me to explore.
I begged him to keep going, harder, faster, I even wanted deeper, but only so I knew what he’d feel like completely pressed up inside me.
It was the first time in so long that I’d felt another person give my body so much personal attention. And all because he found me lonely.
“You can’t control it,” he said, letting go of my legs.
They fell to his side, and he was softly fucking me still, in and out, then leaning in as he went in deep again, the friction of his warm hairy body itching against my cock.
And he was right, I couldn’t control it, but I wasn’t going to waste an orgasm so early.
I needed him to keep fucking me, to keep plowing me like a work horse through a field.
I needed him to stay as deep inside me as he could.
I needed his dick to come out of me like a wrinkled finger left under water for too long.
I needed to keep this going for as long as my dick would let me.
It came with a fizzle and a pop throughout my entire body, starting in my cheeks, down my chest, and back up through my arms, which became limp, resting in the cuffs.
I came and clenched my hole tight around his hot throbbing cock, and he smiled, dipping his head and immediately sucking a nipple while playing with the other.
My cum was warm on my stomach and spread around by Daddy Max’s rubbing and thrusting.
“You’re a messy boy,” he said, kissing up my neck until he was at my mouth.
Then he licked up my lips, nose, and forehead, resting his lips there.
He stopped thrusting, his entire body as stiff as a board, and with his chin on the bridge of my nose, he pressed slightly as he strained into a deep groan.
He was coming inside me—inside the condom, but it was in me.
Daddy lay on me for another moment, his head on my shoulder, kissing little pecks at my neck.
He was gentle as our bodies became cool again, and his dick came out of my ass, leaving me clenching as if trying to hold the memory of him inside me—he’d definitely made an impression.
Maybe I could fill it up with silicone to replicate him before the sensation left me once again in his words, lost.
“Stay right there,” he said, now lifting his entire weight off me. My comfort blanket. A sudden coolness in the air settled on me. “Not like you can move. I can uncuff you, but I’d really like to clean you first.”
I nodded, looking at him and the full condom sagging off the end of his cock. He pulled it with an elastic twang and tied it shut. “I’d like that.” There was still cum on me, glossy in the reflection of the overhead light. His body didn’t show it, but he’d got some of me on him.
Daddy Max went into the en suite for only a couple of seconds, but I was so excited by what had happened that I was all giggly and grinning when he walked back in with a blue washcloth, already wiping his dick down.
If I had the energy left, I would’ve been hard again watching him pull back his foreskin from that pink head.
I gulped hard on my own saliva, blessed to have witnessed a powerful man like him be so vulnerable in front of me.
“Your turn,” he said. “Now, no squirming.”
He wiped me down with the warm washcloth, making sure to take his time and carefully stroke down the side of my ribs, across my belly, down to my dick, before cleaning my ass of all the lube that had been making my cheeks feel like I couldn’t clench—everything became loose.
Once I was clean, he took the cuffs off.
We sat beside each other on the bed, our naked bodies touching, sticking to each other.
He pulled my hand into his, then kissed it. “That was really special,” he said. “Thank you.”
“I should really thank you,” I said. “You—did most of the work.”
“Not at all. I felt the way you were gripping. It was . . . eager.” He kissed my hand again. “Do you—”
I stared at him, just as a gurgle came from my stomach. “Sorry, I—” I’d only lined my stomach earlier tonight, some fancy bread from work to soak up the alcohol, mostly.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to grab something to eat,” he said.
“They serve food here?” I asked. Now that I’d been fucked, my body was game to fill the rest of my holes. “I could go for chicken tendies right now, or like a good mac and cheese, or like even just a stack of pancakes.” My stomach grumbled again.
Max wrapped an arm around my waist, and his hand traveled up the side as if to try and feel the rumble. “Not here,” he said. “I know this great diner around the corner. They do everything; you could probably get all of that.”
Now I felt it. The excitement. The idea that this was now a date.
Maybe in reverse, but it was still a date.
Sex first, then food, and probably never seeing each other again after that.
But I was content with this being a one-night thing, I’d made peace with it right before he started fucking me—thankfully able to savor every moment and inch of him inside me.
“Is that a yes?” he asked. “Remember, I like it when people say what’s on their mind. Honesty.”
“Yes, please, and—and I can take the onesie and teddy with me, right?” I looked back at where I’d been lying, remembering the way he’d stuffed them against me. It was hot. “Please?”
“I already told you, they’re yours,” he said, kissing my neck while my head was turned.
“And you can order whatever you want, my treat, for being a good boy.” His whisper tickled up my skin to the point I was letting out a light moan only he could hear.
“Let me get you dressed again, and next time, we’ll try make sure you get more time in your onesie. ”
He stood and walked to the unit where he’d folded my clothes, my eyes on his muscular back and ass.
It was no wonder he needed such a defined back, he’d been carrying a hog in his pants.
The weight of that alone must’ve meant he needed training.
He bent over, opening the fridge while he was there, balls hanging low, the dip of his uncut dick just in view.
I grabbed the onesie behind me to press close and hide my dick.
“You should drink some water,” he said, taking a bottle out.
“Mhm, yeah, I will.”
At my feet, my folded pile of clothes and bottle of water were presented to me. “It’s a Daddy’s job to make sure his boy is well hydrated and taken care of.”
“Even just for the evening,” I said.
“That’s the nature of the Playhouse,” he said. “Daddy for a night, for the day, the week, month, year—who knows how long anything lasts.”
“Well,” I began, immediately closing my mouth as he shot me a look and a wry smile.
He dressed me, socks first, then briefs. He scrunched them into a fist and inhaled. “Fresh,” he said, forcing me to remove the onesie. “We could always go to a playroom, if you prefer.”
“I—” It was overwhelming after having seen all the rooms. Most of them had viewing windows, but I didn’t know if I wanted to be watched. “I’m kinda hungry.”
He nodded, pushing my briefs up my thighs and getting my chubbed cock nestled to fill them out. “It’s your choice,” he said. “Is that honestly what you want?”
Max quickly unraveled me as I blurted out my overwhelmed feelings of this place.
“Slow and steady,” he whispered, putting the final piece of me together—my cream sweater over my shirt. It was almost a comfort blanket to feel its bulk over me. “Now, let me get you a bag to put your new things in.” He was still completely naked.
I’d never had so much personal attention, and eye candy, supplied to me all at once. But here he was, Maxwell Grant, multi-millionaire, practically coddling me in every way. But I knew I couldn’t have it forever; I knew men like him. But I also wanted a man like him—or him.
“Once I’m dressed, we’ll grab food,” he said from across the room, pulling out a fabric Playhouse branded tote bag. “You wanna finish the rest of your drink then maybe use the bathroom? It’s only like a five-minute walk, but you should go beforehand.”
I nodded obediently, and suddenly felt that pressure on my bladder, like I was in control of my body again, and he was no longer bashing up against it with his very nice dick.
Fuck, he was perfect, but I had to keep telling myself he must have flaws.
And I was a paralegal, I should be able to look at him and spot the cracks, but there weren’t any.
Maxwell Grant was a great Daddy, even if just for the night.