How did my life end up like porn?

Hosted a play party at my house last night. I guess you can call it a success when you start worrying that the downstairs neighbor is going to be woken up by the guttural moans of women coming while they writhe on your floor.

The Princess was there, along with SecretFreak and her boy, The Heiress, and the person who had initiated the evening: The Deviate. That made it me and five cis women, which is a situation I could never have anticipated in a million years. There was still a lot of cock to go around, since I had asked for some strap on action. The Heiress arrived in hot latino boy drag, and once she showed what she was packing, I got on my knees and started sucking away. I have pretty good strap-on head technique, I’ve been told, and given how eagerly my face was getting fucked, I think my reputation is secure.

Later The Princess tied on her cock and after D and TH had made her cum loudly, I got to go after her second orgasm of the night. I had just been kicking and paddling Aiden, SecretFreak’s boi, who was wearing a collar with a lovely bell on it that jingled with every impact. Later on, there was the major challenge of trying to get both A and The Heiress impaled on the N-joy 11 that the Princess had brought: that’s 11 inches of heavy surgical steel, double ended. Along with the weight and the girth and everything else was the complication that both of them wanted to be tied up and tied together. I’m happy that my own shaky rope skills were not required, since the Heiress and the Princess are very accomplished with rope. So: hot women tying themselves up in my living room.

Both A nd I got to that weird place of being so incredibly turned on that we couldn’t cum. I tried any number of things: biting the Deviate’s smooth inner thighs while she frigged herself, hanging in the sling with SF’s fingers deep in my ass and A’s mouth doing an incredible number on my cock, getting trampled by the Heiress once she had switched into femme mode and put on a pair of chunky platforms, riding my glass dildo while working my dick with the replacement silicon sleeve, smoking my special pipe, the one with the chain that I can connect to the ring on the Princess’ clit hood piercing. None of it worked, in part because it all worked too well: every part of me felt so good, that I couldn’t get onto the track of simple sensation that leads me to shooting.

It was only hours later, guests safely seen into their car and on their way back home, with the Princess in bed next to me that I was able to jerk off and shoot, ironically by replaying the night’s events in my mind.

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