Lolling in bed, legs splayed, Aden thumbed numbly through the same faces and headless torsos populating the grid. The occasional vibration alerted him to a "hey", some from new profiles, one or two from past hookups eager to go for a second round. None of them registered in his attention.
Shifting himself up on his elbows, Aden rubbed his eyes and shifting his weight from one ample butt cheek to another. He had a half insistent erection that sensed it probably wasn't going to be satisfied tonight, but made its presence known by pressing tightly against his underwear.
Nothing new, nothing challenging. Nothing attached to a man that was going to give him the stretch that the silicon in his drawer could accomplish.
Aden played with filters a bit, checking out men that were a bit further afield. Anyone self-described as a rugged, muscular top in a ten mile radius found their way under his thumb. A few advertised cocks of various lengths, 7, 8 and 9 inches. Most were lying by at least an inch, usually two or three. He had fallen for the warped photos before, or the guys whose 6 inches looked like hammers on their short bodies. And he had lain there, unsatisfied, as they ploughed him, thinking he didn't notice that it wasn't exactly matching up to the fantasy they had sold.
Seeing no one new, or interesting, Aden turned off the filters and scanned the areas outside his small city. Some new faces popped up, that were either too far to usually come to his attention, or hadn't added enough to their profiles for his filters to find them. He favourited a few interesting leads, and began to feel renewed pressure at his underwear, accompanied by the tell tale wetness of precum and a slight inflation of pressure in his prostate.
"Slut," he mumbled to himself, judging himself for reacting to men that were probably over an hour's drive away. As if he even had the confidence for a hook-up tonight anyway. He wasn't necessarily very experienced... and the guys he felt comfortable hooking up with weren't the type of guys he was attracted to.
Aden flicked the app up and off his screen, resigning himself to the contents of his bottom drawer. From that drawer he drew a thick, black dildo and permanently slippery bottle of lube. He squirted out a generous pool of viscous lube into his palm, ran one finger through it, and then through the valley of his ass, pressing it into the first inch of his anus. He slicked his other hand up and down the full length of the dildo, focusing on the almost apple-sized head.
The dildo itself was thickly, impossibly veined - in a way only silicone can be. Aden went back to the lube bottle for another squirt. This time, he focused on raised furrows of the dildo's veins, more for the ritual than necessity. He felt his prostate swell and press against the bed as he did, anticipating the ribbed pounding that was to come.
With his monstrous, silicon friend truly slick, Aden spread the last of the lube on his own cock, now straining upward and angrily red from lack of attention. A trail of precum dribbled from its tip, which he mixed in with the lube.
Aden's cock looked impressive on his petite body, and particularly in his petite hands. It wasn't a monster, but it was thicker than people tended to expect, and looked thicker again on his small frame. Once or twice he had showed up to a hook-up to find that the top had exaggerated their size, and took small pleasure in finding a moment to press his own up against theirs, to make sure they saw that they had lost to the girly sub. If he was going to be unsatisfied with average cock, he could at least draw pleasure from their sweaty, desperate-to-please exertion, and how the slap of his fat cock on their chests both emasculated and aroused them.
His hands still slippery with lube, Aden reached for a nearby towel, and dried them off enough to re-open his phone and tab to a porn site. Positioning himself on all fours, he scrolled through various offerings, and teased his ass with the dildo: first enjoying the blunt pressure of its impossibly fat heat, and then, as the first video loaded, emptied himself of breath, relaxed his anus, and swallowed its first fat inch.
His eyes fluttered painful pleasure but, disappointedly, the pain took over, and he found his asshole rejecting its new tenant.
"What the fuck," he muttered. "Must be losing my mojo."
He tried again, changing videos until he found an old favourite.
An actor, almost as broad as the door he was standing in, enters his stepson's room, whips the duvet off the bed. He's yelling at him in Italian, probably about being lazy or something. He's gesturing to his suit, his expensive watch. All the stuff he worked hard for. Or something, they're all the same. Whatever he's saying to his 'stepson' isn't impressing the younger man. There's backchat, then soap-opera anger as the father whips his belt off. The stepson isn't only unimpressed, he's biting his lips, and turning his sweet, full ass towards his stepfather. Confusion, on the stepfather's part, who begins loudly slapping the belt off the thick palm of his hand. The stepson, again, coquettish, running delicate hands down his slender legs and then daring, whips down the unbelted pants, revealing the thickest thighs in porn, and tight white underwear from which coils of thick, black pubes spill.
The underwear is barely attached to the man. His package is so heavy, and the underwear so threadbare and tight, that it sags forward, the elastic strained, half revealing a monstrous, fleshy bulge.
Aden let the familiar scene play out, still teasing his asshole with the black cockhead, occasionally pressing the first inch in and, with a little gasp, letting his anal ring push it back out again.
On his screen, the stepfather is still holding the leather belt, a thumb slightly caressing the leather. The camera zooms in, and gifts the viewer a brief shot of his forearm hair, as thick and black as his pubes, emerging from his shirt sleeve. In the foreground, slightly blurred, looms his package, swaying backwards and forwards as he continues to chastise his stepson.
Aden usually switches from video to video, needing more and more stimulus to keep him going. This film, though, he always watches start to finish. This shot, in particular, was like a Freudian key to his sexuality. The expensive suit, the darkness of the hair, the muscular forearm pressing against the fabric, and too-small underwear spilling dark leg and pubic hair, and straining from the weight of a still unseen cock.
And then it cuts to him, on the bed. Or, at least an actor that could pass as his brother. The same pouty lips, slim arms and hands, and full, huge, peachy ass, that looked almost ridiculous on his little, feminine frame.
Aden felt his prostate flare with the desire, and he pressed the dildo back inside himself. First one inch, then another and then, gradually, he found himself halfway through it. The thick veins teased his lust-swollen prostate, and his eyes rolled back into his head.
On his screen, the scene was progressing with exaggerated, teasing slowness. The stepfather, his suit pants pooled around his ankles, was still, somehow, irate. The stepson alternated between expressions of rebellion and seduction. The stepfather's bulge, on which the camera was transfixed, stirred and grew, heaving further from the black tangle of pubes as he grew to erection. The crux moment arrives, where the stepfather, halfway through a speech in rapid Italian, gasps and stops as the stepson's slim, manicured hand reaches out and grabs the growing erection, causing it to swell almost immediately to full mast.
Aden, still on all fours, pressed the dildo further into himself, his ass taking it greedily as he approached climax. The slowness of the scene lent itself to long, slow strokes, and the exaggerated veins of the silicon cock rippled exquisitely against his prostate. He looked over his shoulder to his bedroom mirror which, purposefully placed, showed his own pornstar-arched back, his massive, heaving ass and, with each stroke, the sweet, pink lips of his asshole flaring around the thick dildo.
A rushing feeling in his balls warned him that he was close to cumming. And not even at the first blow job scene.
Not wanting to end his night so soon, he reached his free hand forward and paused the scene. Leaving the dildo half inside him, carefully not to jostle it too much in case he came, he eased himself back to a more comfortable position and clicked the grid back open. He didn't know why he always went back to it when close to cumming. It was like his body didn't know that he couldn't just summon one, or more, of the men into his room.
He flicked through some of his recent favourites from outside the city. His standard type, burly men, showing off hairy, muscular chests, thick thighs, and often impressive beards. Or daddy types, silver flecked hair, expensive clothes. And the occasional college jock, for old times sake, tall, lithe, with a musculature just starting to catch up to their height.
He returned to a mysterious profile that had always intrigued him, sitting in his favourites since he downloaded the app. All it showed was a shirt cuff and a glass of whiskey. The bio simply read "I know what I deserve, and I know how to get it." Not necessarily unusual on an app where half of the people pretend to be doms. The picture too wasn't quite unusual. It was the details. A swelling of the just-visible shirt, that suggested heavy pecs. The hair emerging from the shirt sleeve. The impossible largeness of the hand wrapped around the whiskey glass.
Aden usually didn't message low effort accounts, but, his ass full of silicon, and half mad with lust, he found himself tapping out a quick message.
"Hey," he said. "I know what I want too, and it's not the 12" dildo that's half way up my ass."
The response was almost immediate.
"Does it go all the way?"
