Roger – Part 4

By David Sellers

Five minutes later—maybe less—I heard the deadbolt click and the door to the storeroom open.

I groaned, unhappily, and pushed against the straps. I wanted the ballcrusher off. I wanted the gag removed. I wanted out.

“I know, honey,” my husband said, patting my chest, “it hurts, all of it. It’s supposed to. Ten more minutes. Maybe fifteen. Unless you moan and groan—do that and I’ll leave you here.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. I would be good. I would be quiet.

My husband began to stroke my cock—which is the only thing that makes the ballcrusher bearable. What felt like five minutes went by. I was getting close to coming.

“You close?”

“Yes,” I grunted with the gag in my mouth—I was close. Really close.

Another long stroke. Another. My cock began to throb. With his free hand my husband undid the buckle of the gag and removed it from my mouth. I was right on the edge.

“Permission to come?!?” I said, desperately. “Please? Can I come?!?

My husband let go of my cock.

Continue reading Roger – Part 4

Roger – Part 3

By David Sellers

“Pick one.”

Roger was sitting on a small stool near the head of the bondage board. He was fully dressed in his work clothes, smiling broadly, and holding two used condoms over my head. He had one in each hand. One was from last night’s fuck, he told me, one was from this morning’s fuck. And one was going about to be emptied into my mouth. My choice would determine whether I got this morning’s load — still warm, Roger said — or last night’s cold, congealed load.

They — my husband, my husband’s boyfriend — had come into the storeroom a moment ago. I wasn’t quite asleep, but the clicking of both deadbolts quickly brought me out of a bondage-induced dream state. Roger pulled the stool we keep in the storeroom over to the bondage board and removed my blindfold. He told me it had been six hours — “maybe a little more” — and then he held the condoms up.

“Choose,” Roger said.

He flashed me that smile again. He was loving this. I nodded my head toward Roger’s right hand.

“Too bad,” said Roger. “Last night’s condom.”

Continue reading Roger – Part 3

Tied to a filthy mattress in his white briefs

Jack was hoping to sell his motor for an inflated price but instead has been grabbed and stripped. Tied on his front to a filthy mattress, he is vulnerable to anal assault and he knows it.

Gagged to muffle his cries, he can do nothing as the tops grope and play with his sexy body. His tighty whities offer no protection from intrusive hands and tongues! Jack grunts his threats but they fall on deaf ears. His tight anus is spat on and licked with Jack feeling every degrading touch unable to stop it. Aaron is first to take his cherry, finger fucking the lad angrily and threatening him with his first anal cock pounding. That hairy brown starfish is lubed-up good and proper.

To see more, go to BreederFuckers – new updates every Wednesday

Roger – Part 2

By David Sellers

About eighteen months ago we had a threeway with Roger, a twenty-something nurse who used to date one of my husband’s coworkers. The sex with Roger, that first time, was completely vanilla—and completely amazing. Roger has a hot body, a killer smile, and medium-length brown hair. And he loved to be fucked. The second time he came over we told him about our bondage gear and our playroom — which has a sling, a fuckbench, and a cage in addition to the bondage board—but Roger wasn’t into it. He didn’t even want to see it. More vanilla sex, more threeways. Roger and my husband hit it off. They began to spend a lot of time together when I was out of town. (I travel for work once or twice a month.) About a year ago my husband asked me if it was okay for Roger to be — to think of himself as, to tell people he was — my husband’s boyfriend.

That was fine, I said.

There was more.

Continue reading Roger – Part 2

Roger – Part 1

By David Sellers

“You’re going to be locked in here,” Roger says, slowly stroking my cock as he looks into my eyes, “while I sleep in your bed, with your husband. But first he’s going to fuck me. Then I’m going to fall asleep in your husband’s arms and you’re still going to locked in here, helpless and miserable, because your sadistic husband allows his sadistic boyfriend to do this to you. He lets me put you away like this, lock you up like this, you pathetic fuck.”

That’s usually what Roger says — or something close to it — before he snaps the blindfold to the hood. I’m already gagged, laced tight in a sleepsack, and strapped down to the bondage board in the playroom my husband and I built a few years before we met Roger.

Continue reading Roger – Part 1