Last week a regular of mine requested my company at a day use rental apartment he'd booked for the occasion for three hours of non-stop strap-on pegging action.

We've met many times before and it's always a pleasure. Also, always a serious full body workout. Especially for my abs, bum and thighs.

I have a strap-on harness that fits perfectly and always stays exactly in place. There's nothing worse than a floppy strap-on harness. To impart any force at all in the thrust and to have any control at all over angle, friction and intensity, the harness has to fit just right.

My pegging dildo of choice curves slightly for maximum prostate stimulation.

The gentleman in question talks non stop throughout. Mostly to himself. A free form, adlibbed almost beat poetic monologue about the fact that he's getting fucked in the ass. From the first thrust he's completely in the moment and almost hypnotised. A grenade could go off next to us and I'm sure he'd just keep on riding away happily.

I like him and I love fucking him. He's polite, friendly and fun. He douches thoroughly before I arrive so his hole is always crystal clean. Knows exactly what he likes. Communicates very clearly. Gives no shortage of feedback during the action and is always thrilled to ride my silicone cock.

He does do an awful lot of poppers. I bought these extra strong poppers from twisted beast. I insisted that they stay on the bedside table out of his reach so I could ration them out. Otherwise, if the poppers are on the bed in front of him, he'll just keep sniffing until he goes blue. He does understand that less is more and appreciates my rationing his intake.

Strap-on intake, on the other hand, is unlimited. An all you can fuck smorgasbord of pegging.