"You're so tight, you can barely take my pinkie finger." He slid his finger up and down my cunt too fast for me, and I cummed within the first me. He ...only laughed and kissed me more. It felt good. It felt needed. He picked me up and placed me on the ground. He sat in my place and pulled me up onto him, straddling his lap. We kissed passionately, and he began thrusting. I went along with his hip movements and could soon feel something very large poking me. Finally, he said, "Fuck this. I'm. Then he started to fuck me slowly and deeply at first, then increasing in speed until it was all I could do to balance; by this time I really did have my face in the sofa whilst I held on for dear life against this onslaught.Now it may seem a bit rough for a virgin but I liked the rough handling and felt that I was being 'taken' and my arse was there for the use of his cock. It all reached a crescendo and his grunts turned into a yell as he gave me several almighty bangs and I thought his cock. I tied the handles up tight and we took the bag with us, depositing it in the bin in the car park where Evan’s Triumph Bonneville awaited us. That evening we packed my backpack excitedly. A can of Carlsberg for me, an energy drink for him. A packet of heavy duty condoms and a tube of our favourite lube. A couple of battery torches and our mobiles. Finally, pride of place for our brown leather spanking strap. We both enjoyed a bit of the leather from time to time, although I was the sub more. I recognized the cedar paneling on the walls, a built-in bookcase filled with 1960s Readers Digests, and an alcove that contained our first colour TV, the one my Dad had somehow acquired in 1973. The furniture had arrived at the same time as the TV -- a couch and a chair covered with fuzzy rust-coloured fabric. That chair followed me through my next four moves, until my wife finally refused to have such a worn and ugly relic from the 70s in her house. I was in the basement of my childhood home,.