How Was It For You?
By: Semibu
“How was it for you?” enquired Simon. He then exhaled with delight through pursed lips as he straddled Dominick’s lap and looked deep into his half-closed eyes. He could feel the escort’s considerable boner pushing up beneath him as big hands slid up and down his back. Dominick was reassuring his client.
“You certainly know how to rim,” smiled the sexy young muscle stud. “How was it for you, Simon?” His voice was soothing.
“Y’ know, I thought you were going to suffocate me – just snuff me out with your gorgeous rear.”
“No way!” insisted Dominick. “I only do what you want me to. Suffocating you with my shit hole wasn’t part of the deal, was it?”
Dominick’s words rattled around Simon’s head. He suddenly felt ashamed at having so enjoyed servicing this guy. He was actually paying to lick another man’s rusty sheriff’s badge! In fact, Dominick had done very little, apart from some nipple play and bit of heavy petting. Simon blushed as he considered getting his £100 worth.
“So you’ll do all the stuff you said you would in your email reply?” he panted as the stunning stallion massaged his shoulders. “I know it sounds weird but it’s been a fantasy of mine ever since I can remember.”
“And you’re not alone,” added Dominick with a smirk. “I’ve met hundreds of guys like you who dream of being devoured by a guy like me. That’s why I placed the advertisement. The magazine only prints it every month because they don’t know what ‘vore’ is.”
“So, these guys just listen to you telling them what you would do if it were possible?”
“What do you mean, ‘if it were possible’?” laughed the mischievous youth guy. “I tell them what I’ll do if they want me to do it. See?”
“And you just swallow them!” giggled a now relaxed Simon as he shook his head in disbelief. “You eat them alive and whole, right?”
“Only if they really want me to,” reaffirmed the randy rent boy. “Some just like to talk about it – that’s cool by me. Others end up as supper – that’s cool, too. That’s why I always skip dinner before a date.” His voice was suddenly sinister. “See, Simon,” he continued, “it’s all up to you. If you look inside my mouth and can’t resist, you’re telling me you want to be tomorrow’s shit. It’s your call, man.”
“So what do have in your mouth that’s so alluring?” Simon suddenly felt as if he were getting value for money. All this talk was making him horny. “What’s the attraction?”
“Gorgeous lips,” pondered the pinup.
“That goes without saying,” Simon agreed.
“Perfect teeth,” Dominick continued, “a long, fat tongue, a fucking awesome throat, nice juicy tonsils, big flapping uvula, and all of it so soft, wet and warm.”
“Wow! Can I take a look?”
“Hang on. If you like what you see,” Dominick warned, “and you can’t resist…”
“Yeah, yeah?” Simon began fidgeting on the ever-swelling length below. “Yeah…”
“Just like you couldn’t resist licking my sweaty hole, sucking my dirty dick and kissing my bulging balls. And how was it for me?” he asked himself. “Sensational!”
“Yeah, but if I can’t resist?”
“If you can’t resist and you want to go in, you will have decided to be my supper. Like I say, it’s your call, Simon.” Dominick’s face lit up with a broad smile. Then he added, “Just like it says in my small ad, I have abs to die for.”
“What, you mean…?”
“Yep,” confirmed the enticing brute, “once you’re inside my guts you’re just another free meal.”
Simon could feel himself being lured into his fantasy scenario with terrifying ease. His breathing had become rapid and shallow. He was feeling dizzy with lust and burning to see inside this incredible void. He placed his hands on Dominick’s shoulders and pressed his erection into a rumbling six-pack.
“Open up, Dominick,” he pleaded, “let me see.”
“I will do it if you want me to,” confirmed the ravenous cannibal. “I will eat you alive if you go too far.” His greedy grin seemed somehow bigger and broader as it neared Simon’s excited face. “I’ll have you, boy. You’ll die inside me.” The helpless prey caught a precious glimpse of tormenting pink as Dominick licked his tender lips. “All you’d have to do is relax. I’d take care of everything.”
“Please, just let me look inside!”
“It’s your call, Simon,” was Dominick’s penultimate warning. “I only do what you want me to, remember?”
“I wanna see your throat!” demanded the prey.
“See it?” chuckled dirty Dom, “I think you’re about to slide down it!”
“Stop teasing me!” demanded Simon. “I know I’m screwed up with all this but…”
Simon took a sharp intake of breath as he peered into Dominick’s opening mouth. Lips, once puckered and soft became shiny and stretched. Those perfect teeth sparkled. A mighty sea of taste buds spilled forth and rippled invitingly. A steaming exhalation warmed his frantic expression. Had he shrunk or had Dominick grown? Unconcerned with the answer, Simon had soon thrown himself upon the bright heaving ocean. This vast, responsive oral muscle quivered with glee as Simon buried his face in its intimate slime, and watched a lifetime of frustration flash by in seconds. Suddenly he was screaming ‘Shit!’ several times into the cavernous throat, with its nice juicy tonsils and big flapping uvula, as it expanded before him. He was overwhelmed by the warmth and slippery tenderness that surrounded him. He pushed his feet against Dominick’s huge palms and propelled himself as far as he could toward the cruel gape of an unforgiving appetite.
“Fuck you!” were his final audible words.
Simon’s lower torso and legs were flung towards the ceiling as Dominick, still sitting comfortably, tipped back his head and relaxed his gullet. The famished prostitute folded his victim’s arms to his sides and swallowed firmly but gently. Just three gulps later and two wriggling feet vanished between two very satisfied lips. They closed and smiled.
“You vore boys,” he roared. “You lick arse, suck dick and then end up as shit!”
At least Simon would. Some just wanted to role-play, have a little fun. As for tonight’s customer, he was serious – but still alive and kicking inside that formidable gut. Most of the 10% of guys who commit ‘stomach suicide’ are history within a couple of minutes. But Simon was still squirming behind Dominick’s belly button as he dressed and pulled £100, and not one single penny more, from a credit card-swollen wallet. Before leaving that exclusive Earls Court hotel room, Dominick glanced at himself in the full-length mirror. He lifted his T-shirt and patted the still-moving bulge.
Simon had been squeezed into a ball. Dominick’s sticky stomach walls were tightening with every minute. Air was in short supply, and stank wonderfully of digestive acids and gastric bile. But Simon was in sexual ecstasy – despite realising that his handsome host would soon trash him. He was swayed to and fro as he tuned into the predator’s every breath, heartbeat, groan, and intestinal gurgle.
“I didn’t mean ‘fuck you’, I didn’t,” mumbled Simon, harking back a while and knowing that Dominick wouldn’t have heard him. “I meant to say, ‘thank you’, you bastard!”
£100 the richer, Dominick boarded the 11.35 train from Earls Court to Piccadilly, and raised a few disapproving eyebrows as he released a fantastically vile belch. The struggles from within became momentarily frantic and then ceased. He felt his gut muscles kick in as digestion commenced.
“Hey, Simon,” he said to himself, “how was it for you?”