Pufferjacket - Tumblr Posts

I'd take him right there in the parking garage 😍

Anybody else just want a big beefy man to fuck you senseless while he smothers you with a puffer? Can't just be me 😅

😍

What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right? I'm not going over there to have sex anyway. He's just going to show me his collection of jackets. He has so many, at least from what I saw in the photos on his blog. He obviously takes really good care of them; they're all still so puffy and lofty and brand-new looking. Oh, shit. He just messaged me back. Thursday night? I work a double, but I'm not seeing my boyfriend that night anyway, so it should work. Plus I'm off on friday. Holy shit, it's actually going to happen!

Okay okay, calm down, I say to myself as I stuff the armful of puffy, smooth down jackets into my trunk... in front of all of my neighbors... in the middle of August. Well, they probably already see me through the windows walking around in them. Whatever they're thinking, it can't be a surprise. As I'm driving to work, all I can think about is my trunk full of puffer jackets, and the dozens more I'm going to (hopefully) get to try on later. Have I mentioned I've been hard pretty much all day so far?

He only lives like 40 minutes from my job. I got out early, so I should be to his house just after 8. Why am I soooo nervous? My cock is leaking precum into my briefs, putting down fresh layers onto what dried earlier. I can't imagine what they smell like by now.

That drive wasn't too bad. Let me just spray a littl- fuck, the body spray I have in my car is apparently out. Let's just hope he can't smell that I've been nervous sweating all day.

I should probably put a jacket on, right? It'll at least make it easier to carry them all in. Better yet, I'll just put the two on that I usually wear together when I'm home. I turn the smaller one inside out so I can feel the smooth nylon against my chest. I'll leave my shirt on this time, though. I don't want him to get the wrong idea. His blog is full of a bunch of really kinky stuff. I'm really intimidated holy shit. Okay, you're not here for any of that, just grab your jackets and go up there. I hope this is the right house.

I knock on the door to a very average looking house. It's in a suburban sort of neighborhood. The houses are all about the same distance apart, maybe a hundred feet or so. Minimal decorations occupy the little front porch. The door opens and there he is. Ted is wearing a very puffy nuptse, jet black, and so smooth. All I want to do is run my hands over it. I think he sees this, "you want to touch it?" he asks me, looking down as to gesture with his eyes toward his chest. Fuck I want to. "Not right now, thanks" I say. "I'd like to try it on later if I can, though." He smiles and says "of course. That's what you came here for, right?" as he leads me inside. I'm still staring at his jacket the whole time. I can't take my eyes off the huge puffy baffles. They almost look like they're inflated. He stops at a door a few paces into the house. "The collection is downstairs" he says as he opens it. I hesitate. I just got here. I don't know him at all. "I don't want to sound ungrateful," I say, "but I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with that. I just–" and then he cuts me off. "Hey I get it!" he laughs. "I would honestly have been a little surprised if you just walked into some strangers basement." We just look at each other for a second. "Why don't I just go grab a couple and you can tell me more about what you like, so I can narrow down some options. I have quite a bit down there" he said with a laugh. He seemed so nice. Maybe he's not a creep after all.

He goes downstairs for a few minutes, and all the while I hear that iconic swishing and rusting of nylon across nylon. I bet it's like a puffy wonderland down there. That's sketch though. I'm not crazy enough to let him take me down to his basement. I've seen the things he's into. I'm sure there are cages and shit down there.

After a few more minutes of me sweating in my jackets and leaking in my drawers, he comes back up with almost a dozen jackets. I've never seen so many perfectly puffy, shiny jackets in one place before. "What do you want to play with first?" he asks. I look at them for a moment and then choose two: a smaller black nuptse and a sightly larger blue one. I unzip the outer jacket I have on, and he, upon noticing the inside out jacket I have on underneath says, "Ah you like to layer too. The puffier the better, right? This one here I got altered. It's got enough down in it for 3 jackets, at least by today's standards. They hardly fill jackets like they used to." Okay so he's starting to show his age a little, with remarks like that. He's actually a pretty handsome guy. He looks about as old as my dad but he really isn't bad looking. We talk for a minute about how jackets now aren't anything compared to what they were in the 80's and 90's, then he tells me to put them on. "And go ahead and take your shirt off if you want. Those feel amazing against your skin" he says. Of course they do. He read my mind. I'm tempted. He's not being pushy at all, and honestly he seems okay. I still hesitate, and he says "Look, no pressure at all, I can just see you obviously like that too, and you drove a long way to get here, right?" I do, and I did. I can barely even control myself surrounded by all this down. I turn away and slip my shirt off. It lands on the ground no sooner than the first jacket is zipped up. Fuck it feels so good against my chest and back, and the way it sticks to– oh shit! I didn't even realize how sweaty I am! Should I tell him? Apologize for getting his jacket all sweaty and smelly? I turn around and he's just looking at me, smiling. "That looks great on you. Put the other one on" he says. I pull the blue one over the first jacket and zip it about halfway up. Admiring me and all the puffy down I'm buried in, he walks over and zips it the rest of the way. "That's better" he says, "now can I get you something to drink? I have a full bar, and sodas in the garage. Want me to grab you something?" I think about his offer. Some wine would be great, but I'm a little apprehensive to drink. "I'll just take a coke, if you have any" I request. "Of course, I'll be right back. You sure you don't want some wine or something? A cocktail?" He asks. I cave. He seems really nice and one drink isn't going to get me smashed. "Haha alright, throw a little jack in that coke" I say, eager to get back to the jackets.

About 30 minutes goes by and boy that drink was stiff, which isn't the only thing. I've been rock hard leaking into my pants since I put his jackets on, sweating the whole time we've been talking about our shared interests and fetishes. He doesn't say anything too crazy, but I can tell he's definitely kinky. At a good stopping point, I say, "I think I should try something else on. I'm actually getting a little sweaty and I don't want to get your jacket all gross." He replies "we can get you into something else, but first, one more?" He hands me a red jacket, probably an XL or XXL because it slipped over the other two with the perfect amount of compression. I zip it up and notice he's visibly changed. Not only is he pitching a tent, but he can't take his eyes off me. "Okay" I say, "I'm ready to try on something different" and go to unzip the outermost jacket. The zipper, however, doesn't budge. I try for a few seconds, then say "this seems to be stuck." He walks over slowly and tries to unzip it, unsuccessfully. "You might need to come downstairs" he says. "I could fix this, but all my stuff is down there." Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe I just didn't care, but the next thing I knew, I was looking at racks and racks of the most perfect down jackets I'd ever seen in my life.

He goes into another room on the other side of the basement, and comes back with a tool chest that looks really heavy. I wouldn't have wanted to carry that upstairs, either. He makes quick work completely replacing the zipper, while the jacket is still on, with two others under it. The innermost was absolutely stuck to my body with sweat: back, chest, and arms.

As soon as he's done, I go to take it off, and he stops me. "Wait, at least keep those on until you pick out what you want to try next," he says. I saw no issue. I was living for the layers of puff I was under. I wonder if he just wanted me to keep sweating in his jackets. I get it. When I had a guy fuck me wearing my jacket once, it smelled like him for days. The way I jerked of to/with that thing. Anyway, as I turn to look at the racks, I felt suddenly dizzy. Seeing this, he puts his arm around me. No sooner do I thank him for catching me, about to ramble about how I can usually hold my liquor so much better than this, does he padlock a chain to what I'm now noticing is a zipper much larger than I'd ever seen. Not crazy big, but big enough to put a lock on. As I realize what's happening, the drugs kick in and my vision fades to black.

TO BE CONTINUED.

p.s. let me know what you guys think. This is my first try at writing anything like this, and part two is gonna get so fucking depraved, you're not ready 😈

😍😍😍

🤤

I love seeing a group of men stand over me 😈🤤

I want to belong to him. He can keep me at home, always ready to please him. I wanna be his fuck toy, cum rag, and anything else he wants me to be

🤤

This man

Oh yeah... Super exciting

One for you and one for me :) Or one for you and one for your buddy that's on his way ;)

Down in the Basement Pt 2

I wake up in what I think is the room he grabbed the toolbox from, having no idea how long I was out. I'm tied to a bench type thing. It's sort of like a massage table, but bigger, and it has rings along the edges, which is what I was tied to. As I look down at myself, I notice I'm still in three jackets, but they're not the ones I put on. My mind fills with fear. I was afraid of something exactly like this, now here I am. I think of calling out, but my mouth is taped shut, and I know it isn't worth the strain. I just lie there and sweat, both from the heat and the panic setting into my body and brain.

After what seemed to be about an hour and a half of me sweating into these jackets, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. The door opens, and Ted walks in like I'm not even there. He has a few jackets in one hand, and some rope in the other. My eyes widen. I had seen stuff like this on his page. Just as my mind starts racing, he comes over and, layering two very puffy nuptses one on the other, puts them over my face and head, and ties the rope around me, the jackets, and the bench. First, one line of rope goes above my head and I feel it tighten on the jacket and some of my hair. A second later, another goes over my neck, cutting off any gaps and hopes I had for breathable air. I feel another jacket go over my face, and as his hand pressed down, I feel all the layers of down compress over my nose and mouth, making me unable to breathe without a mouthful of nylon fabric. He hold me like this for about 30 seconds and then lets up. The jackets reinflate and, and I'm able to breathe again, barely. The air I'm gasping for does nothing for me, as I recycle the same breath from lungs to lofty down and back. He does this a few times, suffocating me and giving me barely enough air to not pass out, until I hear him grunt a few times. He begins rubbing all over the jackets I'm wearing, and I realize he's massaging his cum into them. In a few seconds, he's done, and I hear the door close behind him. Now it's just me and the jackets over my face. Or so I thought.

I feel a hand on my exposed dick. Ted took my pants and underwear, so aside from the jackets, I was naked. I jump, scared shit-less. I thought I was alone, so who is this? The hand starts stroking me, and somehow, I actually get hard. As scared as I was, I was still burried in what would normally be a puffy heaven, and I guess my body knew that. My cock swells and he starts to go faster. After about a minute, he's really jerking me off. He's going so fast and hard at this point that it doesn't feel good. Now moaning in pain, I begin squirming, but I'm tied down too tightly, and I can't move an inch. Another minute goes by, and, hips buckling, I get close to cumming. He puts his lips around just the very tip of my dick, and just as I release my first pump, he slows down and strokes it slow and smoothe, taking every drop in his mouth. Lying there exhausted, barely able to breathe, I quiver and shake. I hear a glass get set down, and the next thing I feel is a rough hand in between my legs as he starts playing with my ass. I moan, try to say no, but all he does is, in retaliation it seems, is shove his unlubed finger all the way in me. I scream into the tape and jackets, surely unheard. He pulls it out, then I hear a voice that definitely isn't Ted. "I'm going to untie your legs. I don't think it would be wise of you to resist now." He lets that comment set in a moment before I feel him working at the knots around my ankles. Untied, I actually sigh relief for a split second at being able to move my very stiff hips. That relief is short-lived. He grabs my left angle and ties it to something above the table and to the left. He does the same to my right ankle on the right side. Now, my legs spread and elevated, my ass was nothing but accessible to him. He must have picked up the glass again, because just after I hear him set it back down, he says "who needs lube?" through what sounded like a full mouth. That mouth was on my hole a second later, and I could feel him pushing what I now realized was my own cum into me. Once he emptied his mouth, I felt something smooth rub on my hole.

I know struggling won't help me, so I lie there and wait for what I know is coming. With no hesitation, he rams his cock into me. I scream, he laughs, and starts fucking me like a jackhammer. On the verge of passing out, I conserve my energy. There's nothing I can do, and panicking is only using up the little air I have. He feels this change. "That's a good boy," he says, "you were born for this." I'm biting my lip through the pain, trying not to breathe too much. Just as I think I'm about to pass out, he gives me a few very hard, fast thrusts, then slow Stokes for a minute. He says "take that load boy" half like a command, half like an insult. "Your first of many." Then with one hand, presses on the jackets over my nose and mouth, and with the other, presses on my throat. With that, my hearing fades, and I lose consciousness.

Part 3 in the works

drooling

Propper scally macho

#scally #pvc #streetwear #downjacket