“I brought you something.” Uri pokes his head in my office after he gets home for lunch. “You did? What is it?” I ask. “It’s a surprise. Check it out.” He hands me a shopping bag which I open to find a pair of black leather driving gloves. “Thanks, pal, they’re very nice. But I drive a Ford pickup not a Porsche.” “They’re not for driving…” he grins and winks at me. “I thought you didn’t like gloves as much as bare hands,” I say. “These are almost like skin,” he explains, “And wait until you hear them. Let’s go!” “Okay, but give me about ten minutes to finish up and I’ll be right there.”
Ten minutes later, I find Uri has changed into his exercise clothes and his doing sit ups on the floor. “Put those on and come over here and help me, will you?” “Absolutely.” I pull on the gloves and the leather feels pretty good and fits well. “What do you want me to do?” “Just give me a good punch each time I lean back to keep my abs flexed.” I kneel down beside him and prepare to work him over. He’s already huffing with each contraction up and as he lowers his body back down, I punch him solidly in the belly. He grimaces and keeps going. With each rep, I land another punch and his face says it’s difficult for him. We finish 25 reps and he is dripping sweat from his face. “Take a break and then try another 25,” I tell him. “So what am I supposed to hear with these gloves?” “Let me take this off and you’ll see.” He removes his t-shirt, wipes the sweat from his face and lies back down on the floor. “I’m ready. Let’s go again.” He starts his first rep and when he leans back I punch again and “SMACK!” the sound the leather makes when it contacts his skin is sharp and defined. “Oh, wow! That’s kind of hot.” “I know, right?” he replies. “Keep going.” Now with every sit up, I smack his stomach hard and the report from the leather gloves echos off the walls. He’s about half way through this set and I begin to increase the power of each blow. Harder and harder into his tightened abs trying to break through before he finishes. He’s growling now each time he sits up and yells each time I hit his gut. I can tell this is going to be close, but he makes it through all 25 sit ups without quitting.
“Whew!” he gasps panting for breath as we stand up off the floor. His torso is pretty red from the workout. “What next?” I ask. “Let’s see. You want to just throw some punches at me while we move around the room? Sort of like dancing around the ring?” "Okay, I’ll try to keep up with you.” He assumes a fighter's stance with his hands covering his face and I begin to move around him throwing punches into his body when I can. He’s constantly shifting his weight and moving his feet, but I take every opportunity to land a right hook into his gut or a left into his ribs. The gloves continue to sound their distinctive SMACK each time I make contact. I get a good jab into his solar plexus that makes him lose his concentration for a second and he drops his guard. We’re not sparring with any protective equipment, but I do slap him against his hand to let him know he’s left himself open. He shakes it off and we continue.
I’m circling him fast now and throwing harder punches into his body. He sounds off louder and louder with each punch. He’s telegraphing an opening on his left side which I eventually take advantage of by throwing another right hook into his stomach and ribs. “Ooohhh!” he winces sharply. “That one caught me good!” “You’re leaving yourself open there,” I explain. We keep going and I land a solid shot right in the center of his body and he curls up covering his abs with his hands. He’s left his head open again and I remind him again by slapping his head—maybe a little harder than necessary. He reacts by grabbing me and taking me down to the floor. He’s on top of me and punching me in the chest and abs and we are laughing and hitting one another. I roll over onto him and give him some good punches in his pecs and belly. Then I step off and offer him my gloved hand. He takes it and I pull him up, but before he can get his balance, I continue pulling him and fling him against the wall. He’s a little surprised and I come at him with a volley of gut punches that make him groan with each shot. He recovers himself quickly though, and I begin a more slow and methodical tactic. I vary my shots from straight jabs into his stomach to hooks and upper cuts all around the soft tissue of his abs. He’s had a good workout so far, and I plan on breaking him before I stop.
We’ve been going at this for a while when I pop him in his nuts just because I can. “OOOoohhh!” he cries as he doubles over in pain. “Low blow, man.” He’s breathing heavily trying to shake it off when he raises his hand for me to help him back up. He catches me in the gut with an upper cut from nowhere, which I should have seen coming. “Oof!” I groan and lean into him heavily. He’s off balance supporting my weight and I throw my own upper cut into his unprepared gut. His knees buckle and now I’m holding him up. I push him back against the wall holding his arms against his chest and start into his belly again with repeated right upper cuts. I can feel his abs starting to give way. I can’t just leave him in a heap of ruin without some sort of reward, so I start to rub his groin with the back of my gloved punching hand and massage his nipples with the hand holding him against the wall. “Oh shit,” he moans. “Don’t do that.” But we both know he doesn’t really mean it. He drops his arms and leans against the wall breathing heavily. I rub his crowing cock and alternate with punches in his navel while I tweek his nipples until they’re hard. Then I go in to suck them and he’s got his hands on the back of my head pressing me against his chest. His breathing is getting more rapid and his body is moving in rhythm with my punches. He drops his shorts exposing his hard and erect dick and I take my glove off to stroke it up and down. I stop rubbing long enough to give him a good tap against his balls and he collapses against me. “Not so fast, Tiger!” I stand him back up and continue my efforts to bring him to release.
“Hey, Honey?” I freeze and cover Uri’s mouth with my hand. Stephanie is home early and my heart wants to leap out of my chest with panic. Uri and I lock eyes and I visually warn him to be quiet and still. Calmly now, “Yeah, Baby?” I answer over my shoulder. “Can you come help me unload some groceries from the car, please?” I turn back to him and he’s shaking his head and his eyes are pleading with me not to leave him like this. A wicked grin curls across my mouth, “I’m coming, Love!” And then I add a whisper in his ear, “but you’re not.” I ruffle the hair on top of his head and toss the other glove at his nakedness and turn to leave. His head and shoulders drop dejectedly as does his softening erection.
Gutpuncher2013 (12)
22/08/2019 3:52hot stories keep them cumming
ClayPunch (1)
21/08/2019 19:07“I brought you something.” Uri pokes his head in my office after he gets home for lunch. “You did? What is it?” I ask. “It’s a surprise. Check it out.” He hands me a shopping bag which I open to find a pair of black leather driving gloves. “Thanks, pal, they’re very nice. But I drive a Ford pickup not a Porsche.” “They’re not for driving…” he grins and winks at me. “I thought you didn’t like gloves as much as bare hands,” I say. “These are almost like skin,” he explains, “And wait until you hear them. Let’s go!” “Okay, but give me about ten minutes to finish up and I’ll be right there.”
Ten minutes later, I find Uri has changed into his exercise clothes and his doing sit ups on the floor. “Put those on and come over here and help me, will you?” “Absolutely.” I pull on the gloves and the leather feels pretty good and fits well. “What do you want me to do?” “Just give me a good punch each time I lean back to keep my abs flexed.” I kneel down beside him and prepare to work him over. He’s already huffing with each contraction up and as he lowers his body back down, I punch him solidly in the belly. He grimaces and keeps going. With each rep, I land another punch and his face says it’s difficult for him. We finish 25 reps and he is dripping sweat from his face. “Take a break and then try another 25,” I tell him. “So what am I supposed to hear with these gloves?” “Let me take this off and you’ll see.” He removes his t-shirt, wipes the sweat from his face and lies back down on the floor. “I’m ready. Let’s go again.” He starts his first rep and when he leans back I punch again and “SMACK!” the sound the leather makes when it contacts his skin is sharp and defined. “Oh, wow! That’s kind of hot.” “I know, right?” he replies. “Keep going.” Now with every sit up, I smack his stomach hard and the report from the leather gloves echos off the walls. He’s about half way through this set and I begin to increase the power of each blow. Harder and harder into his tightened abs trying to break through before he finishes. He’s growling now each time he sits up and yells each time I hit his gut. I can tell this is going to be close, but he makes it through all 25 sit ups without quitting.
“Whew!” he gasps panting for breath as we stand up off the floor. His torso is pretty red from the workout. “What next?” I ask. “Let’s see. You want to just throw some punches at me while we move around the room? Sort of like dancing around the ring?” "Okay, I’ll try to keep up with you.” He assumes a fighter's stance with his hands covering his face and I begin to move around him throwing punches into his body when I can. He’s constantly shifting his weight and moving his feet, but I take every opportunity to land a right hook into his gut or a left into his ribs. The gloves continue to sound their distinctive SMACK each time I make contact. I get a good jab into his solar plexus that makes him lose his concentration for a second and he drops his guard. We’re not sparring with any protective equipment, but I do slap him against his hand to let him know he’s left himself open. He shakes it off and we continue.
I’m circling him fast now and throwing harder punches into his body. He sounds off louder and louder with each punch. He’s telegraphing an opening on his left side which I eventually take advantage of by throwing another right hook into his stomach and ribs. “Ooohhh!” he winces sharply. “That one caught me good!” “You’re leaving yourself open there,” I explain. We keep going and I land a solid shot right in the center of his body and he curls up covering his abs with his hands. He’s left his head open again and I remind him again by slapping his head—maybe a little harder than necessary. He reacts by grabbing me and taking me down to the floor. He’s on top of me and punching me in the chest and abs and we are laughing and hitting one another. I roll over onto him and give him some good punches in his pecs and belly. Then I step off and offer him my gloved hand. He takes it and I pull him up, but before he can get his balance, I continue pulling him and fling him against the wall. He’s a little surprised and I come at him with a volley of gut punches that make him groan with each shot. He recovers himself quickly though, and I begin a more slow and methodical tactic. I vary my shots from straight jabs into his stomach to hooks and upper cuts all around the soft tissue of his abs. He’s had a good workout so far, and I plan on breaking him before I stop.
We’ve been going at this for a while when I pop him in his nuts just because I can. “OOOoohhh!” he cries as he doubles over in pain. “Low blow, man.” He’s breathing heavily trying to shake it off when he raises his hand for me to help him back up. He catches me in the gut with an upper cut from nowhere, which I should have seen coming. “Oof!” I groan and lean into him heavily. He’s off balance supporting my weight and I throw my own upper cut into his unprepared gut. His knees buckle and now I’m holding him up. I push him back against the wall holding his arms against his chest and start into his belly again with repeated right upper cuts. I can feel his abs starting to give way. I can’t just leave him in a heap of ruin without some sort of reward, so I start to rub his groin with the back of my gloved punching hand and massage his nipples with the hand holding him against the wall. “Oh shit,” he moans. “Don’t do that.” But we both know he doesn’t really mean it. He drops his arms and leans against the wall breathing heavily. I rub his crowing cock and alternate with punches in his navel while I tweek his nipples until they’re hard. Then I go in to suck them and he’s got his hands on the back of my head pressing me against his chest. His breathing is getting more rapid and his body is moving in rhythm with my punches. He drops his shorts exposing his hard and erect dick and I take my glove off to stroke it up and down. I stop rubbing long enough to give him a good tap against his balls and he collapses against me. “Not so fast, Tiger!” I stand him back up and continue my efforts to bring him to release.
“Hey, Honey?” I freeze and cover Uri’s mouth with my hand. Stephanie is home early and my heart wants to leap out of my chest with panic. Uri and I lock eyes and I visually warn him to be quiet and still. Calmly now, “Yeah, Baby?” I answer over my shoulder. “Can you come help me unload some groceries from the car, please?” I turn back to him and he’s shaking his head and his eyes are pleading with me not to leave him like this. A wicked grin curls across my mouth, “I’m coming, Love!” And then I add a whisper in his ear, “but you’re not.” I ruffle the hair on top of his head and toss the other glove at his nakedness and turn to leave. His head and shoulders drop dejectedly as does his softening erection.
Blue balls are a Bitch!