Wild Rabbit

By on Apr 24, 2014 in Stories | 0 comments

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I grab his hand and dismount the gym horse. We’ve sequestered ourselves in one of the side rooms of the dungeon area – though there might be a peephole, it wouldn’t surprise me – but it’s been a good half an hour, and I want to find the person I came with.

It’s been good, though, and continues to be; I’ve been attracted to this one for several parties now. He had a key to his handcuffs hidden in a trick belt buckle, and his cockhead tasted sweet on my outstretched tongue.

He takes me to the bar for water, aftercare. We talk in my native English, which is kind, and I need it now, I’m overstimulated. I thank and kiss, then take my leave, start asking around for my original date. No one’s seen him for a while, and the last I thought I heard of him was deep moans in a parallel side room.

My heart beats a little faster as I go from room to room. I feel safe, but where is he? Gay anuses are pummeled with fists on the corner televisions. Over there, they’re practicing shibari. I start knocking on doors, using his name.

Downstairs, there’s a locked room, voices and scuffling that hush when I call out. A hesitation and the door opens. He’s there, buck naked in a swing, legs splayed, flanked by two of the women we were speaking with earlier. His eyes are like a wild rabbit trapped and forced into orgasm.

I’m so happy to find him, at once relieved and aroused. I descend on his lips while the two women work his groin. His stomach flexes impossibly hard when he shoots across his own skin.

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