Saturday, July 02, 2016

Daddy and Boy

“I came down here for nothing”.

That was the opening salvo from some Grindr “kid” who just invited me over and had to come down to let me in his complex because the buzzer wasn’t working right. But seems he knew the work around to the malfunction, and would not have had to come down. Still – it wasn’t a great opening remark to the start of a sex session.

He was more handsome than his picture, but still not necessarily my ‘type’ – that is, if I have just A type. 23 (young). Hispanic (the first guy I dated was Puerto Rican). He was shorter than I normally like. But he hit me up on Grindr – more than once – and this time I bit. It was late in the week and I was horny. He asked what I wanted, and I really wanted to suck.

I have had sex over the last few months – obviously – but I’d say the majority has not been oral. I’m not complaining as I like it up the ass. A lot.

During our on-line exchange, he wanted to kiss. I like to kiss, but not everyone gets that from me. The feeling has to be right.

Once up in his crappy student apartment (he’s a Ph.D. candidate) his clothes were dropped. I was still in a full suit. He went right to his bed and plopped down.

His cock was nice – about 7” and moderate thickness. And brown. Technically he was uncut, but there was not a lot of skin to show for it. It’s the best of both worlds if one isn’t comfortable with foreskin.

Still suited, I sat on the bed, leaned over and took his cock into my mouth. He loved it – naturally. It was a good cock to suck. A weird angle, but a good cock. He was stretched back, eyes closed. Or partially closed.

Yet, deep down I knew this isn’t where he wanted it to go. He had a full grown man with his 23 year old self, and rarely is it about them being the top. I knew this going in, but I was kind of hoping for a load in the throat and on my way on this late Friday afternoon. I needed a good end to a shitty week.

The guy (no names were exchanged – or even pretended to) was all about the cuddling and wanting to make out. It was hot out and that isn’t my thing. I had no intention of taking my suit off, but he kept pawing at it, undoing my tie…..then my belt. Soon, I was butt naked save for my socks. It’s not that I have a sock fetish, but I’m guessing his carpet had not been vacuumed or cleaned for the last three tenants.

Now he went down on me. The guy had a nice mouth. But it was when he went to my balls that he had me. Only a few times I’ve experienced the ball lick that sent basically electric shocks throughout my body. Its pleasure was off the charts. I could not stop convulsing or moaning. Or saying “oh shit!”. The neighbors be damned.

He was diligent in his process. But as I figured, he was hoping I’d feed him. Possibly more.

He climbed on top of me – me on my back, him sitting on my lap. My rock hard dick bumping his undercarriage. Not quite hitting the target, but not far off either. We made out. I went to the side and nibbled his ear, then inside it. That fucking set him off. He was feeling what I was with my balls licked, times 20. This desire made me all the more erect.

And since I was so fucking rigid, I decided I would go for it. I know it’s not normally my style, but here he was, grinding, 23, nice ass – and more to the point, I had a fucking stiffie. You know I don’t normally fuck ass. Normally. Here and there, but not on a consistent basis.

As soon as I mentally decide this is what I’m doing and I try to position my cock while still in the lying back position, then he utters the words,: “I don’t have a rubber”.

FUCK !!!!

I did not internally scream that because he didn’t have one. It’s that he wanted to use one at all.

I love that NO BODY ever has a fucking baggie. Bottoms expect tops to carry them, tops except the bottoms to be packing. Maybe it’s a clever out on everybody’s part, but maybe they’re just too lazy or cheap. Or all of the above.

Still I noticed he has not moved an inch. Still my shaft throbbed. Still he pushed back to it. I reached up and pulled him to me.

“That’s ok, baby”, I said, or something equally as cheesy. I pulled him down into a kiss….and then went to work on his ear and then his other one. He was a mad man trying to control his urges…..but I’m a man of experience, and I saw that control start to erode.

“Daddy wants that hole, but I guess Daddy will have to wait”, I hissed in his ear. I also lifted my hips as I said it.

Yes, I proactively called myself ‘daddy’. While it was never stated, clearly that is why he hit me up as I was over twice his age, and the use of that word got him all the more excited. I might not play daddy or top all the time, but I know the triggers for boys like this. I know what I’m doing. I’ve been this kid.

The words. The mouth. Both got him squirming. And it kept me hard.

“You like the way my cock feels back there, don’t you?”. The answer was as expected. Yes.

“You fucking want Daddy’s cock up there, don’t you…….boy?”. I grab each cheek as I hit the last word of the sentence.

Yes, I added ‘boy’. It was to emphasize our standings. More subtle, it was to get him to secede power from him to me. He admitted he wanted it up his ass. I told him I was gonna put it there. He didn’t say ‘yes’, but he didn’t say ‘no’.

I spit into my hand, reached around his legs to grab and wet my cock. He saw all of this, but said nothing, nor moved an inch.

I positioned myself at the tight opening. While I let him assist in easing it in, I was also in control. I applied pressure – albeit even too much and his hole was fighting me every step of the way. But paydirt: the head went in and then about two inches.

He was uncomfortable. It is a thick cock and his was a tight butt. And he wasn’t sufficiently breathing. I get that holding the breath seems like the logical idea to bare down and take it, but it is the worst thing a bottom can do. The key is to breathe.

The boy complained, and pulled off. But I wasn’t about to miss my opportunity. I brought him down to me and kissed him. Told him Daddy was proud of his efforts. Provided praise for his skill and for what a nice butt he had.

And then I went for the ear.

More squirming ensued. Just as I expected. More praise from my mouth into his ear. He loved it.

I told him Daddy wanted back in and he said yes. I suggested taking my dick from behind this time – and he said yes. He even reached into his bedside drawer and produced lube. As much as I would have liked just spit, I knew I was much too large for his much too small hole.

As a bottom, I’m a very giving person. I fawn over a man. I will lick his toes. Or his pits. I will lightly run my hands up and down a leg – part tickle, part sensual, all hot…for the recipient. But you know I LOVE eating ass. The easiest thing in the world for me to have done would have gone down to wet up his hole with my tongue. But didn’t.

I won’t say it didn’t cross my mind, but it was fleeting. I could have been the kind, caring dad, but no….I felt to sensually eat his shitter out would have been some kind of power transfer – and right now I was not willing to give that up, even if that was in my own head.

His shoulders and head were down, his ass up. I got on my knees between his legs, my lubed up cock at his back door. And I pressed….and pressed until I got in.

In my mind I knew I should take my time. But I also knew my window of opportunity could shut at any moment. He could change his mind. He could say ‘ouch’. Or worse, I could lose my hard-on.

He did mutter some discomfort as I pushed the head past his ring and sunk three inches up his ass, but I pretty much ignored it. I paused for a few and then started pushing more into him. I talked him through breathing again, but he went into a short labored breathing pattern that could have bordered on hyperventilating. He finally started more regulated breaths, but not that kind that I think could have helped him more. But it was enough of distraction on his part for me to go in the rest of the way.

He kind of balked at that, but I told him what a good boy he was for his Daddy and how nice it was to have my cock buried up his ass. He was positioned far enough away that it wasn’t possible for me to lean down and get to his ear. Had I, that ass would have parted like the Red Sea I believe.

To be fair, I didn’t pound his ass – though I wanted to. Part of thinks he wanted that also. But he was grunting, part in pleasure, part in pain. I think he wanted to tell me to stop, but he never did and I was so close anyways. There is no way I wanted to or was going to stop.

Normally there is a precursor to my ejaculation when I’m fucking. It’s not so much the noises I make – though I do make them. But I get them to ask for my load. It makes things so much easier when they tell me not only do they want it, but tell me to give it to them. Even if they say “do it”, I usually say, “tell me what you want!” I make them get specific. There are multiple reasons for this methodology – it lets me off the hook for just cumming and not telling them, but let’s face it – their begging for a load is a huge turn-on.

But this time I said nothing, made no noises. Too much was at stake. Daddy had gotten his boy this far, there was no turning back now – and I wanted no roadblocks in my way, no changing of the mind. So I unloaded.

And unloaded. And unloaded. #Sure, at this point I was making noises. Grunts mostly. I am not one of those who keeps fucking during orgasm. My rod is buried up the ass and just pumping out jizz. He knew what was happening. He said nothing. Just moaning into the bed.

When I eventually slid out, I flopped over off of him and onto my back. I pulled him to me and kissed him deeply. He took it well and kissed back. He sat on my abs and would stroke his dick and lean down to kiss me. It didn’t take him long – as he had never lost his hard-on – and he inched closer up my chest. He asked if he could cum in my mouth. I just opened up.

As he got there, he just stuck the head in my mouth and pumped 4-5 heavy shots of cream. His hands were against the wall, bracing himself. As he regained some composure, he said, “you don’t have to swallow……” but he trailed off as he saw me ingest his semen. He laughed.

During all of this – and afterwards – I’m cynical enough to think I didn’t control the situation at all. This protest for a rubber, his giving in, his taking it…..was all a ploy, his idea to get what he wanted in the first place. Maybe I’m giving too much credit to a 23 year old.

I stood and put on my suit, save tying the tie, and was about to head out. I was dying to ask, “still think you came downstairs for ‘nothing’?”. But I didn’t. I was the bigger, wiser man.

Because at least this time, I was the Dad.

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Nerd Fuck

The title of this post is a spoiler alert – no?

I bet you keep reading anyways.

You’ve heard my tales of blowing the big-dicked Nerd. This has been going on and off for a while now – maybe 6-8 months. Maybe longer, I’d have to go look.

I wish it would be more ‘on’ than ‘off’. I think he thinks it is just flattery when I coo and tell him I could suck his dick every single day of my life. It’s a fact.

It really is one of the most perfect cocks I’ve ever had the chance to play with. Sure, there have been bigger, but something about his solid 8 inches is just great. It hangs heavy but still stands up when fully aroused – which doesn’t take much…..at least from my experience.

The man has had trouble getting around, as he fractured his foot and leg. He is finally off crutches and into a boot, but still, it’s harder to move than usual. Even coming up the few stairs into my place is slow going.

Normally he just stands in the kitchen and leans against the counter. I go to my knees and orally service him.

It is unfortunate that he is easily excitable. Or maybe I just overexcite him. I am not one to pat myself on the back, but I have a really good mouth. It’s possible that he might not be able to fight off my superior skills. What mortal man could?

I kid – of course. Plenty can – and do.

Still, Nerd guy and I have a rapport. He loves playing with my tits because he know it gets me riled. And he knows when I’m riled, I provide excellent service.

Lately, we have been starting standing, face to face. Pants open up. Pants drop. There is some touchy- feely action going on. I get to weigh his cock in my hand. It’s heavy.

Our breathing gets heavy. We even get close physically, yet I feel kissing him is beyond his comfort level. It’s just a feeling, so lips have never met lips.

I tremble when he plays with my tits. He trembles if my mouth gets close to his ear. When I do suck him, his legs literally shake. I’d like to say I’m good – and I am – but the man is wired for sex, though by looking at him, you might not know it.

Nerd has felt my ass cheeks, even running his finger under my nuts and lightly running his finger over my hole. It feels good. The implication is that he’d like to fuck, but the times we’ve been together are haphazard scheduling and right after work - - there is no ‘prep’ time, if you know what I mean. …..and I think you do.

But this fateful day, I never went to my knees. We stood there playing with each other. He grabbed my ass – I didn’t stop him. I spit in my hand and put hand-to- cock. His cock.

With no fanfare, I was turned around. His pants fell further down his legs than they already were. He shuffled those few steps – pants were an issue as was the boot he was wearing.

If there was additional lube, I never heard him release spit into his hand or down onto his shaft. But I felt it. The lack of proper lube, but I’m not complaining.

For such a gentle soul – and you know at work and in social life he’s probably a wallflower – when it comes to fucking he is brutal. #I don’t mean that in a bad way.

I don’t think he knows he’s being rough. I don’t think he knows he has no finesse. He actually might have that, but his excitement level was high, and sometimes anything other than blind lust isn’t an option. And I really don’t think he understands how big and thick his cock are.

One thing I do know is that he likes being up the ass – all the way…..deep. To get a cock that size balls deep there is force behind it. And even partially incapacitated by that boot, he had some leverage.

Nerd had me pinned between him and the kitchen counter. There was no escape – not that I was looking for one. I was reaching for the other side of to hold onto just to steady myself from the pounding. That I did need.

He was slightly grunting. Mine was much more than ‘slightly’.

I felt the positioning was not right for this fuck, but I had zero intention of stopping this barreling locomotive. He wanted this. I wanted and needed this.

When I blow the Nerd, I feel I have more control over his orgasm than he does. That is if I’m doing my job correctly and looking for all the signs. But I can change my behavior based on those signs if the blowjob is to prolonged. That is only sometimes. There are a few that I was slightly unprepared for his release.

With the ass fucking, I had less control over how anything went. And in a way, that’s how it should be. Sure, I have my ass muscles to massage and milk his shaft, but we didn’t know each other “this way”, so I didn’t know what trigger points with which to work.

I know that Nerd somewhat cared if I was feeling good, but for the most part it was about how his cock was feeling. And going by his noises and movements, things were a-ok.

His cock is large and thick. It was completely filling my hole. I could feel my ass walls just hugging his shaft. Sure he could stretch the hole out a little, depending on how long he fucked, but for now, it was a nice grip, a nice fill.

Still, the man is a pounder.

Rough. Insistent. Now.

I swear I felt his cock hit different places than I had never been touched. I don’t think that was due to the size of his dick as much as it was the angle. Or maybe it was the combo.

I’d be lying if I said it was a pleasurable fuck from my end. I was getting immense pleasure that he was getting into it and eventually off on it. But there were jabs and strokes that made nerve twinge and not always in a good way.

Lest you think I am complaining, I am not. During this – and with other fucks and sucks – I am reminded that this is where I am meant to be. Their pleasure is more important than mine. My physical pleasure doesn’t even have to exist. However, my mental pleasure was off the charts….which is one reason I think I don’t have to physically get off myself that often.

I tried hitting the poppers to relax a little more, but I think we were too far into the fuck for them to effectively work. They might have been a momentary distraction, one that would give me a splitting headache later on, as they always do.

Fucking with Nerd lasted longer than sucking. Maybe he was better at controlling his orgasm when he’s putting pipe to butt.

But it was good. In most every way.

He was exhausted and a little sheepish when done. But that’s ok. That’s his nature. He went from aggressive fucker to wallflower in a matter of two minutes after cumming. It was a very empty feeling for me when he slid out.

We both enjoyed the entire event very much – on different levels, but that’s the way that works.

Not for nothing, but the KISS guy came by shortly thereafter – like 10 minutes after. Not a word was said about a previous visitor. I was wondering if a guy will truly notice another load up there or not, especially with as big of a one as the Nerd usually shoots

I’m not saying he noticed or not, but honest to god, the fuck lasted all of 90 seconds. Maybe it was his dire need, or maybe the feeling of an extra warm ass – mostly the load – just set him off.

Either way, I sat around with two loads deep in my hole.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Boston Bathroom Hottie at CLAW

It was the closing day of CLAW. It’s always a little sad on many levels. The folks are bleary-eyed from the night before. They wander the vendor floor in search of anything they might have seen but where holding off on purchasing. And worst of all, people are packing up and leaving.

It’s not so much that I’m sad to see them go, but packing up, having to check out by a certain time – coupled with their late waking time due to the night before – leaves little opportunity to find someone and to use their room. And you have to deal with their partners, boys, Sirs, or messy roommates, and hope they have somewhere else to be as well.

 ….and yet, everyone is looking for that one last hook-up. Myself included. Or maybe especially.

If I’m being honest, my area of the vendor mart was dead on Sunday. While I was slated to work and showed up, I didn’t really stick around. I too was working under that check-out time window, and it was

The hotel lobby on this day is the hubbub of activity. People passing through to load up their car, get breakfast or you know, cruise the lobby itself. I was doing the latter.

While there, I saw the guy who fucked me in the sling. And I saw the guy who fucked me all over his room the day before. But I sat there, watching the parade of leather, latex, uniforms and flesh. In my mind, I played the ‘would I’ game. You know the one – would I sleep with them? How about him? …and

But mostly it was just people watching. Including a few guys who were sitting on a sofa talking. I noticed them, but didn’t NOTICE them. At least from my vantage point, nothing stood out in any way. As I was just pacing and looking at my phone – because even here, folks use the hook-up apps all the time – a few guys walked past. One I noticed – older, maybe late 40s, great build as he clearly works out, short dark hair covered in a Boston Red Sox cap. Never seemingly looking my way, he passed with his posse and went toward the bank of elevators.

A minute later, there is a tap on my shoulder. It’s him. ….my first thought was “what the what…..?”

 He leans and tells me, “you are so fucking hot – I couldn’t just walk away without saying anything to
My second thought was, “what the what???????” It felt like I was being pranked.

He leaned in closely to speak. His voice was low, sexy and exciting. His talk was dirty. His touch was strong. His keys were clipped to the left side, I knew to end my sentences with “Sir”. The first time he heard me say it, his head moved away from mine to look at me with a knowing glance – non-verbally confirming that I was correct in my approach.

You see, I don’t necessarily label myself with a name, title or decorative wares. People hope I’m a top, and maybe a little surprised and disappointed when I’m not. I might be sexually submissive, but I’m not sure I’d say I’m a Sub and I’m most definitely not a slave.

I think he was pleased with me addressing him the way I did. He told me he wanted me – and I told him I wanted him to do whatever he needed. He liked that too. Alas, he had no place. Whomever he was with was in their room, packing up for the trip back to Beantown. I was dead serious when I said I would even do him in the hotel lobby bathroom.

He snickered, but I noticed he didn’t actually say ‘no’. He seemed to be contemplating things. And for the record, I was thinking of the rear of the lobby where there were two restrooms. But he asked if I was ok with one – and he pointed – over there, off to the side near the front of the lobby. I nodded. He led the way. I followed at a respectable distance, though any of the fags who were watching (and there were a few) had to know what we were doing.

When I entered, I saw him briefly in the handicapped stall, then he stood out of sight in case anyone else walked in the restroom. I entered the stall, closed and secured the door. A door that went fully to

Sir Joe – as by now he had told me to call him - pushed me over to the wall and planted his lips on mine. For a forceable kiss, he was good at it. He also pawed at my tits until finding the nipple and both got a very rough squeeze. I didn’t make a sound, save for maybe a slight gasp in the breath. More excitement than pain. He seemed to enjoy getting a reaction. With his mouth near my ear, he hissed, “right now, you’re mine”.

I was. And I was fucking thrilled to be.

While just in a t-shirt and jeans (and the ball cap) the man had an incredible body. Clearly he works out a lot and lifts, but is not ‘roided out. And he has rough hands, which is not a bad thing at all – and while he told me his profession, it’s not technically manual labor, though to look at him, that would be your

Soon his pants were opened and his cock came out. It was a nice cock, about 7” and thin. I don’t know what I was expecting, but you know, I was hoping it would be fatter and a little longer. I mean, a boy can dream.


I was guided to my knees. I took him in my mouth and did what I do oh so well. He seemed to love my mouth and he certainly went to town on my chest. Let’s just say by the time we were done – not to jump ahead – my tits were fucking sore. Well, more sore, as a lot of the guys this weekend really worked them over, to the point they were almost chapped, if that is possible.

The man knows how to fuck a mouth. He knows how to grasp a head. He knows how to use.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he can be completely selfish when it comes to sex – and I’m 100% completely fine with that. But this was more than that – he was being selfish not for being a dick reason, he was doing it because he knew he could and that I would be a very willing recipient – and he knew it even though it was not really discussed at that level. It’s all about how to read your partner.

While it was CLAW, it was still a public restroom, so we had to be as discreet as possible. People were coming and going, using the stall next to ours - for legitimate purposes - and the urinals. So we had to keep quiet. Any talk was right into each others ear, or silently conveyed with a look, a raise of an eyebrow or a finger, pointing for me to do something.

The only audible piece would have been Sir Joe's belt. The buckle would rhythmically hit the marble floor or wall. The sound was timed, as it was moving with his hips as he fucked my face. Any amateur sleuth could have deduced we were doing one of two things in there.

I SO wanted to do the second one, but Sir Joe, while being a sport, really wasn't into restroom / public sex this way. He was there for my benefit and I had to respect his wishes. And so I "settled" for giving him head.

With only a few minutes left - as I knew he had to check out - he held my head against the marble wall and shot his cum right into my mouth.

As I do with so many men, I then guided his hand to my throat, so he could feel me swallow that spunk. He smiled. Grinned, actually.

We got ourselves together. We left together. We exchanged digits, as he expected to hear from me later (and has).

If I'm ever in Boston, he'll know it.

Wednesday, June 08, 2016

Hump and Thump

He was on my Scruff ‘nearby’ listing. The picture wasn’t the best, but he showed a lot more promise than most. And I fully recognize that people don’t always capture the best selfie to promote themselves. I also get that people choose certain pics thinking those will funnel the kind of guys they want. It’s a crap shoot.

But his pic piqued my interest. And while he said he was ‘vers’, I directed my comments to “Sir”. This seemed to engage him in sporadic conversation. But he said he’d stop by my area at CLAW when time allowed. That Saturday, time allowed.

As I assumed, he was better looking in person, and taller than I imagined. 6’4” apparently. Maybe a little over 200lbs, shaved head, goatee – greying a bit, nice eyes that could smile and sneer depending on his mood. And a good 7” (or so I’d find out later) with a slight upward curve.

 He walked up to me, grabbed me by the back of the head and pulled me in for a kiss. It was a little surprising, as we hadn’t even exchanged names (ok, so maybe that part isn’t so strange). He told me what room he was in and that he was going up to take a little nap, but to just knock on the door when I was ready.

The thing about me and CLAW is, that I’m always working. And since I’d been there for 2 plus days with no play time during work time (all those other encounters happened before or after my work) I talked myself into that everyone else did sessions and whatnot, so why shouldn’t I just take an extended break.

So I did.

I gave him an hour to nap and then was knocking on room 725’s door.

He opened the door and escorted me in.

As this was in an Embassy Suites, if you’re familiar with the set-up, the front room has a sofa, table and chairs…..and a large window that looks out onto the hallway, should one not close the curtain. His curtain was partially open. And while I was just fine to have fun out there for the passers-by to watch, it was the housekeeping staff he could do without. I get that. So we took it back to the bedroom, though we didn’t shut the door.

The man was all over me, and me of him. I found him incredibly sexy. I shouldn’t wait to write some of these stories. I partially hold off to get some perspective (and to block time to really commit to writing the encounter), but I fear I lose some detail. I can’t remember if we kissed in the actual room. I remember the vendor floor, but not in the hotel room. I have to believe we did.

The other details I have down – so no worries there.

The man was rough. Or rough-ish. Harder than most could take, not as hard as some men I’ve known. He manhandled. Thinking of it now, I’m sure we kissed. As we did, he worked my nipples. Light and hard. He’d pull away from my face now and then and raise an eyebrow, as if to nonverbally ask if that was too much. My answer however was verbal: “you’re never going to hear me say the word ‘stop’”. He grinned. I wasn’t sure if that sneer was for a positive response to my reply, or if he were taking up some secret challenge. Or both.

Oddly, I did not use my oral skills on him. Not even briefly. Well, let me rephrase a bit – not on his cock. I did lick his shitter quite a bit. And he sat on my face. So, technically, that is oral sex, no? But for the most part, sex was relegated to the butt. Mine, in particular.


I loved his bedside table. Because apparently, you can never have too many poppers and some lube. Of course, it didn’t escape me from what was missing from the surface. And the joke is, we never touched the lube either. Spit was our friend. I like it better anyways.

We started with me bent over.

I won’t say the entry was rough, but he was determined. I wanted it. He wanted in it. And he was ready to plough the fields. I’m a trooper and I said I wouldn’t say ‘stop’ and I didn’t. And he was a trooper – the man knew how to pump ass. My lord, the man knew how to fuck.

He fucked me that way for a while. Then on my back. Then on all fours on the floor. One of the better – or at least more fun times – was up against the window from his room. To the outside, not the interior hallway. Alas, it was daylight, so anyone looking up would have had a harder time seeing than had it been night and we were backlit by his bedroom lights. But he had a great sense of humor talking to the people below – as if they could hear him (the windows didn’t open). But he had me splayed up against that window for a while, my left leg bent out and up, giving him easier access to what was now his hole – at least his hole to use.

While he was doing that, I noticed some heavy leather covered…..devices (?) on the table. Not being able to keep my mouth shut, I asked what they were. He called them ‘thumpy sticks’….or something like that. It seemed to be metal bar with one end having some sort of cushion, but then that was wrapped in a heavy duty leather. Well the name wasn’t enough for me, I had to ask what they were for – so he showed me.

He took one and hit my chest with it. Once was fine, Twice and three times were good. But I could see how this could and would progress and how thumpy could become hurty – but maybe in a good way.

One he was done, he proceeded to punch my chest. Hard. Very hard. And repeatedly.

I let this go one for a while, even wincing, but never saying the ‘stop’ word. Though that being said, I pulled a passive-aggressive dick move when I said, “not that I’m saying ‘stop’, but if I were ever to, this might be the place I would say it”. He laughed, hit me a few more times and quit.

I have to say, we never talked about hitting, but after the thumpy stick, I think he was testing limits. He chuckled when I mentioned he probably took a boxing class – though he denied it. He might be a natural at that though.

We took it back to the bed. This time he lay back. I licked his nuts, but not his cock. I don’t know why. I’m good with ass-to- mouth, but we weren’t about that. He told me to ride him, and I did. He just relaxed – well except for the erect penis – and I sat on him. And I fucked myself on his cock. He’d reach up and play with my tits – sometimes soft, sometimes not.

video


After a bit of that, he had to think about getting ready for some dinner and bar crawl. Sounds great when you’re 28, not 48. So he wanted to wrap it up – the session, not the cock – as he told me I was not leaving without his load.

Who the fuck am I to argue that point?

“Get face down on the bed”. It wasn’t a request. I hurried up and had my face down in the pillow, my legs apart. He spat into his hand, climbed on top and punched it in and went deep.

As much as we fucked before – in every other position – here he was unrelenting. Before it was for pleasure, his and mine (not that he cared about mine). But now, he had a goal. The goal was always there, but now it was in sight. And if it wasn’t in sight before – he was making damn sure he saw light at the end of the tunnel……even though the tunnel he was in had zero visibility.

I’m talking about my butthole……get it? Get it??

This went on for a good 10 minutes. We were both sweating, his chest sticking to my back. His balls slapping my ass. His thighs hitting mine. My teeth stereotypically biting the pillow.

The roar he made upon cumming would have scare your average hotel guest – as they would have heard it. At CLAW, someone probably stopped, shrugged their shoulders, and went on their way.

I remained in position long after he pulled out – or long in terms of post-fucking by a stranger. But I had to get up. He had to go and well, I had been away from my area now for 90 wonderful minutes.

He slapped my ass as I dressed, hoping we’d have another chance (we didn’t).

Upon getting back to my positon, someone asked where I was and did I do anything. I replied I didn’t do something, but I did do someone.

I was too much of a gentlemen to tell them what or who. But yet, you all know something the guy asking never got any 4-1-1 on.

I won’t say this was the best encounter I had. It’s in the top two. The next one might rival this – but for different reasons. Both have their merits.

Sunday, June 05, 2016

Receptacle

Yes, with all the men at CLAW, I had yet another repeat. It's the devil you think you know.

This Sir I had been corresponding with for a while and met up with three years ago. That was great and very memorable.

I saw him last year as well, but out schedules never meshed for a second go round. We both had competing opportunities. It's all good.

The plan was, this year, to meet up again. The plan was to have more frozen sperm for my asshole. And to add fresh to it as well. And while we texted and emailed, we had both been there a few days, but not crossed paths. And he was there with a boy.

Now, I will admit to be savvy in some things, but the Boy / Sir thing still throws me. I see it time and time again. Yes, he had a boy, but the boy was spending time with his Master. And to be clear, the Sir was not his Master. I always think of slavery - in the homo world - to be owned by a man. Maybe lent out, but not to have another dom in the non-polyamorous relationship.

Call me old-fashioned, if I had a true Sir, I'd answer only to him.

I'm sure they all have it worked out, I just do not understand all the dynamics. That's on me, not them.

We missed each other the first day or two, but one morning I was headed to his room. But the best laid plans......well, you know the rest of that phrase.

RC was there and still hot as ever. It did not bode well for me when he started off the conversation that he'd been out until late and got off with any number of guys. In the back of my head, I felt this would make it more difficult for me to ascertain his semen. But at least I'd have the frozen batches he had with him.

Well, I would have had them, had he brought them.  Semi-strike two.

The great thing with RC is that he still has his attitude - one of superiority, at least over me. He has the verbal chops. He has the right ideas. Or you could make an argument that they are the wrong ones. I like the wrong ones.

To start off, it was just him and myself. I thought a third would be there, but was not upon my arrival. Of course I sucked - at least that's how we started out. I also took a few fingers up my ass as well.

I did notice that RC was having trouble maintaining an erection while I sucked and while we played. I was hoping to change that, but I was having very little luck in that department.  Going by his schedule the previous day, I didn't fret to much that he wasn't excited about me.

When it came to fucking, he couldn't quite get his dick there. He kept saying how tight I was.

And where I'd like to be virgin tight sometimes, in all honesty, I am not. You read this blog - you know I can't be.

The reality was he wasn't hard enough. I didn't say anything, but was hoping our dirty talk and our history would get him to the point of penetration. It did, but not for long enough. While blowing him - again - he was texting his friend. Soon there was a knock on the door.

He came in - mixed race, average height and looks. His pants came off and his cock was meaty. Thick, long enough. Big nuts.

Soon my head was hanging off the bed while he plunged his shaft down my throat. With me taking it to the root.



The man made me gag. And I do like to be gagged. I swear I could taste his last night exploits on him. But I was having the same issues. Or he was - a full dick, but not a particularly hard one.

The second guy tried to fuck me too. Again, he said I was too tight, when I could feel a drooping noodle hitting my crack.

I get there is a certain stigma to not being able to get up, but when did the bottom being "too tight" become the cop out for that? I get it's not really a put-down to call me too tight, but they had no trouble saying it. And I wouldn't dare point out to them that it's not me - it's you, but clearly it wasn't reciprocal on their end.

I guess the ego needs to be protected. I get it. Especially when you're a top.

I tried sucking both again. I even ate ass.


Pulling cheeks apart to get to the pucker so my tongue would go in deeper. I tasted the funk and I was fine with that.

The second guy tried to fuck me again - with no success. But RC was hard-ish and jacking.  He told me to get on my stomach and I did. With a swift entry, he planted deep and unloaded.

I can't say I got fucked, but I was a depository for his load - and to him, that is all I was anyway. He's made that clear in the past.

That was enough to get guy two to unload on my hole and it was pushed in. All of it.

It seem for here, I wasn't a fuck, but a load collector. And that would just have to be ok.


It was firmly implanted.

And soon I was dressed and on my way.

Monday, May 30, 2016

Nothing But Attitude

While at CLAW, I was setting up my area. There were other volunteers were supposed to be doing things as directed by myself, but everyone was cooperative.

At first, I didn't know they were a couple.

Well "a couple" at a leather event could mean just about anything. As it would turn out, they were Sir and boy. Well, one of Sir's boys. He had two.....with him at least. He might have had more. He didn't say. I didn't ask.

I don't remember how it started. I think with a pinch of my nipple has Sir walked by. I responded on multiple levels - I'm sure an eyebrow raised. I'm positive a noise was made. And after he did it a few more times, my kilt tented out.

Mind you, the area was buzzing with set-up, but not open to the public as of yet. And I'm guessing the vendors have seen just about a little of everything in the past - that is, if they haven't participated.

While Sir played with my nips - medium then very very hard - I didn't even notice his boy get behind me. All of the sudden his arms went through my arms and pulled them back in a vice like grip. They were pinned by him behind my back. This gave his Sir opportunity.

It's not like I was fighting it.

His hand went under my kilt. He was impressed by my dick, though he wasn't going to do anything with it. I think he was checking for arousal, though one could easily see that with the kilt still on.

Then he tugged the fuck out of my nuts. This did nothing to deflate my penis.

I'm an obedient boy, so I don't care if people were watching - and some were, but I'm guessing this is fairly tame, other than being in the vendor mart. Still, I'm obedient enough not to say "no", and I just go with the flow in what this Sir wanted.

Still, work was to be done and a timeline to be adhered to, so we went back about out duties, though now and again he would grope, grab, pinch or slap part of me.

I suppose I should mention that there was nothing special about this man - at least in the looks department. Clearly he was Jewish, and that is more than fine with me. I rarely play with anyone from my tribe. He was a little on the heavy side, but at the time I wouldn't go so far as to say 'fat'.

It wasn't his looks at all - it was his confidence. His bravado. You've heard me say it before, it's more about the attitude than it is the looks. Well, at least to a degree.

The two finished their shift and Sir took my digits because he wanted to fuck me later. Telling me - whispering to me - that he wouldn't be pulling out and wouldn't be wearing a rubber.

It made me smile on two levels. A. it was hot.  B. this was CLAW - the bigger surprise would have been if he said he would only wear a rubber.

I saw him / them around later, but barely an acknowledgement. That's ok. There are lots of guys at an event like this. I was a passing fancy. It's not like I was sitting on my hands waiting for a text or call.

Yet on the last day, he texts me. He's sending his boys out for a while and wants me to come by. I agree. He says he bought me something at the vendor mart.  I'm assuming he is speaking tongue in cheek. And in a way he is. He purchased a new paddle.

Now, I've said before here, I don't mind a little rough play. But save for the occassional slap on the ass while taking dick, I can't say anyone has ever really paddled me. Maybe here and there, but it's not a regular thing for me.

It wasn't horrible, but I am thinking he could have been harder. The pre-orchestrated hitting doesn't do a lot for me, though I kind of like the spontaneous hit much better. Rather have it come somewhat out of left field.

At this time I was ordered to take off his boots - and this was after I licked them all over, including the underside. While I was doing that, he was telling me all where he walked to that day with them on. It did not deter me. The boots were not really that dirty, but they were much cleaner by the time my tongue was done with them.

As I got to taking off his clothes, he goes on to tell me that he's had two blood clots and is on blood thinners. Sometimes due to that he can't get hard (fuck!), but reassures me that if he cannot get erect, it is no reflection on me. He finds me desirable, but sometimes it just does not work.

When his clothes were all off, that time earlier in this post when I said "at this time I couldn't call him fat", now I might. The clothes he picked hid a multitude of sins. And the boner he was sporting while abusing me in the vendor area, was there, but it felt bigger than it looked when incased in denim.

Right now, all he had going for him was hit attitude.

I could get into the details of the sex, but there was nothing nearly as interesting about it as the come on at the vendor area. He ended up fucking me - twice, and me getting his load - twice. That was good. Unexpected, but ok. The fuck it self was nothing great. And with so many "Sirs", his concern for my well being and making me happy kind of diminished his authority.

I know some will say that just because he's nice it doesn't mean he's not in charge, but I do like a stronger willed man and the reality is, I could have easily made suggestions enough that he would have bowed to my will and needs.  And that's just not the way it should be.

Still - the deed was done. There were other men to meet at CLAW.

Friday, May 20, 2016

Sling Fuck

Another CLAW story.

I'd say this was a repeat as well, but it really wasn't.

The guy was a repeat, the acts where not.

"Austin" and I hooked up a year ago at CLAW while he volunteered for me. This year, while he volunteered again, it wasn't for me. But we had kept in touch and I knew he would be in town. He's a 'favorite' on Scruff, so I knew when he actually got to town.

I was stalking, but not in a creepy way. This guy is under 30.....he has his choice of guys, though over the 12 months we've chatted some of our perv stuff, and he isn't freaked out by things that are said, nor am I from things he tells me. If anything, it's a turn on.

I was hoping I'd get my chance again this year. The first time I saw him he was with a group of guys - one being his husband. He stepped away to come talk to me. We exchanged pleasantries, but nothing more. What was 'more' was in text. I knew even though it was a leather event and many people played - it's not always out in the open or above board. I wasn't really looking to cause waves in his relationship.

Ok - that's kind of a lie.

I wanted to rock this guy's world a bit and have him look at his husband differently. Or indifferently.

Yes, it's wrong, but who ever said I was 'right'?  And on some level, I think Austin wanted me to walk that high wire.

As I was wrapping up my day, I texted him. He was kind of ready, but asked if I'd mind his roommates being there.  I did. And I didn't.

I like being watched. But by men. His roommates were of the twink variety and that did nothing for me. And given our discussions on perverted talk and deeds, I could open this guy's like to a whole bunch of scrutiny that he probably didn't want. And sure I could have kept my trap shut, but that's not my style....not at CLAW.

I made it to his hotel, and he said to wait while those guys left. While waiting, I let some hot fucking man put his hand under my kilt and play with me until it was unsafe to be standing in such a public area with said kilt tenting out to a point where I was exposed.

Not a problem for many - but the hotel frowns against that much skin.

Then Austin was ready.

He opened the door, harness on, jock on, smile on.  That's it.

The room was much neater this year. And this year, besides the two beds, there was a sling all set up, with the appropriate plastic tarp underneath so not to make any stains on the carpet should body fluids not stay where they're intended.

Anyways - this is why this visit was not like last year.  Austin and I made a deal that I'd at least get his DNA this year. Sure, I'd get around to fucking him, but he got mine, it only seemed fair to swap. Right?

He asked where I wanted it. Beds are easy and predictable, and this was CLAW, so into the sling I went.


And see? Kilts are great. I didn't even take anything off - just hiked it up.

The thing with sling play is there is little foreplay. You get in and you do the deed. And we did.

While he took my cock like a champ in 2015, he fucked like a pro in 2016.

Legs up. Greased up. He went right in. The man knows what he's doing, though by all accounts, he might be sneaking around on the side and giving it to his husband only now and then. He's doing it other places, with a variety of guys. I have to appreciate that.

But I loved the way he fucked. Nice, but with a vengeance too.

Our talk during was filthy and I know that was getting him harder in me. I could feel it. It also helped him get close. It had been a good 15 minutes of pumping and pulling the chains into him. The rocking of the sling helped the entire fuck.

He fucking exploded in me. I could feel him throb. I could see his face contort. I could imagine folks in the hall heard it all too. I hope they did.

Austin stayed up my ass for a while.  A long while, which I like. But as is inevitable, he slid out, slowly. I'm not sure a slow withdraw is worse or not.

He stayed standing, I stayed in the sling, letting his DNA soak into me. We talked, about each other and sex. And dirty sex. Enough so, that he became hard again.

In no time, he pushed balls deep in one movement and I got another 15 minute fuck.

And I got another load. I wasn't expecting this....nor was he. Even afterwards he said it had been years since he produced two loads so quickly together.

I'm not sure if I ever have. I know you hear stories about those crazy late teens who can recharge their balls and get off another round. I was never that guy. But getting off isn't always my thing, is it?

The plan was for me to return another time to give Austin my load. But our schedules never quite meshed after that. I'd see him around the hotel(s), but never alone.....and never ALONE.

But if we keep this up - I'll be fucking him next year. Assuming we are taking turns.

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Redo

First - sorry about my absence. I've mentioned it before, but writing the blog can be difficult. I like doing it, but needs motivation. Secondly, work has been off the charts busy. So, what little free time I have is probably looking for cock (not always succeeding) and not really committing the experiences to the 'page'. 

I will get better about that. 

I have a few CLAW experiences, and I will tell them, but not doubt they'll be out of order - and will have other non-leather conference stories mixed in.  

Thanks for sticking with me. 


He wasn't my first for this year's CLAW.  Hell, he wasn't in the top 5. And he wasn't even the first day.

Still, he sent me a message weeks before the event, wanting to use me again. Yes....again. He used me last year at CLAW as well. I guess it's nice to be wanted and in demand. I won't lie.

I got a Recon message saying he was in full leather, waiting for me in 528.  Up I went.

Leather cop shirt. Chaps. Boots. Gloves. Cock hard.


It is longer than the picture makes it out to be. It is thicker too - and it's plenty thick in that pic.

Immediately I was down on my knees. That was the plan. That was his expectation. No messing around - and truth be told, other than take his cock or load, there wasn't anything I really wanted to do with him.

I worked that cock like an expert. I mean, with the mass majority of guys, I always do. Sure, sometimes I go through the motions, but even for the lesser guys, they think it's the full service. If they only knew!

But I love thick cock. And this guy had one.

I'm not saying he was over ready or over anxious, but I had to back off more than once. I mean, I don't mind getting guys off quick and moving on  to the next one - and it was CLAW - so, at the third edge when he said he was close, I didn't back off.

I went for it.

Swirled the tongue. Tightened the lips. Added more saliva.

He burst into my mouth.

I mean, I know he said he got off the day before, but I was amazed at the amount of cum. Either he shoots big all the time (I don't remember his load per se last year) or he fibbed about getting off. Not that it mattered.  I let it sit in my mouth until I let the scum slide down my throat - where it belongs.

I cleaned off the cock, though he was sensitive, which made me laugh to myself. A "tough" leatherman who was too sensitive for a post blowjob clean-up.

He'd never survive the dungeon.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Return of the 22 Year Old Volunteer

I revisited the 22 year old volunteer.

This time, he wasn’t actually volunteering at work, but nearby at a review class for an upcoming test / final. I’ll assume this was college and not that he was held back in high school for four years. You just never know though.

I’m sure it’s just me being me, but when he arrived, I felt the new-boy shine about him had worn dull. He was no longer fresh, and now just slightly used. I know it’s just the now somewhat familiarity I’m finding with him, but he’s not coming across as cute or attractive as I once remembered.

I mean, until he pulls down his pants and exposes his big, thick prong, that is.

But when he arrived, he said he wanted to suck me off first. UGH.

I hate that shit. Even by a 22 year old college kid, I don’t want to be sucked that badly. I mean, I have a decent sized cock and his makes mine feel like a micro-penis.  Ok – that might be a little bit of an
exaggeration.

I agreed, thinking I’d get a chance to swing on his cock, as he said he wanted to suck me off ‘first’, which implied that there’d be a ‘second’.

He walked in – slightly nervous, slightly cocky, the way a young man can. Not carrying himself with confidence – or maybe with slight regret he’s even doing someone my age, but still with enough bravado of knowing his own skill set.

Overall, he has a really good mouth for a 22 year old. I mentioned before he has experience, and I’d
probably really get off knowing what that experience might be – who he started with, when and how.
Yes, I’m a pervert that way. But, that is kind of why you read me here, isn’t it?

With the door shut, he looked a little sheepish, but rubbed the front of my suit pants. I hauled out my
meat. He played with it a little but got to his knees. As he took me in his mouth, he pulled down the
front of his black sweat pants. It is a fucking gorgeous rod. I felt how guys sometimes express their
dismay when I service them, but refuse access to my dick. They like mine – which I think is just ok – but now I was on their end with lust in my heart. ….and in my mind…..and pants.

He jacked me as he sucked. I don’t care for that, so I pulled his hand away. That would last a minute
and he’d put it back. I wasn’t having that shit. I get he was looking to get me off quickly and go, but that wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t going to let it.

On his own initiative, he moved over so he was slumped down, head against a wall and a curved body that lay mostly on the floor.

I admire a guy who likes to get pinned between wall and strong pair of thighs – this leaves little to no
leverage for the cocksucker and puts most, if not all, of the control into the ‘hands’ of the feeder.

It was an odd fucking angle for me to feed at though. I had to bend at the knees far too much for my
liking. And due to the positioning, his teeth scraped way more than they should have, even after telling him to “watch the fucking teeth”.

But in for a penny, in for a pound as they say. I was too far in to stop - though I suppose I could have.

When I was at my best, he could bottom out in his throat and he had nowhere to go. I'll give him this, he didn't gag.......much. And because he was young and in a vulnerable position didn't make me go easier on him. I mean - I've been face fucked hundreds of times (thousands?) so I have learned a lot over the years. This was a teaching moment for him - - even without words. Just actions.

In some ways I was into this scene, in others, I wasn't. I actually found myself fantasizing about other encounters I had with other men. That was going to get me off more than this kid. But the kid was into it, he was hard and jacking that big cock.

Whatever I was thinking got me to the edge. I didn't ease up because I was about to spew a huge load into his throat. He'd be prepared or learn real fucking quickly.

As it turned out, it was the latter. He kept up with my load, which just kept pulsing. I didn't pull back for him to get it all or taste it. I buried it so it would go down this fucking throat.

The little fucker started convulsing right then and there, and came all over himself.

That, 'second' never happened. I wasn't going to be getting his cock....at least this time around. Stupid motherfucker. Though deep down, I knew when I agreed to it, I probably wouldn't. I should trust my instincts more.

I had nothing for him with which to clean up. I got him out of my office and directed him to a restroom down the hall.

I couldn't do everything for him you know.

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Storage Closet

His screen name was ‘Need Serviced’ and he was all of 283 feet away. I mean, what could be more convenient – and straightforward – as that?

Of course, that distance is as the crow flies. If I were in a 28 story tower, he could have been 28 stories below me. But I was on the 6th floor, so it took some back and forth to figure out where he was, as he wasn’t sure how to describe it all.


As it turns out, he was in a sub-basement of an attached building. He was a vendor for the company and had access to a locked area. He was normally here a few days per week, but I had never seen him. But it’s a big place. I mean, we have sub-basements. Plural.

Married, on the DL, 42, 5’10” 170, average body, shaved head. Well….bald. I’m not sure he can grow hair. I am not 100% sure, but at some point in life he might have survived a fire. I think that was scar tissue over his face and head. I’m not sure he’d have been very attractive without that possible accident, but if I’m honest, it was uncomfortable to look directly at him for a lengthy period of time. The good thing was, I’d be on my knees and not looking at that bald head, but his other bald head.

The cock is about 7”. Thicker, but not really thick. A really nice head on it.


After some back and forth, he told me the place he was working was secure and the door locked. I headed his way immediately. I knocked once, the door open and he let me in. Why wouldn’t he? He ‘need serviced’ and who better than to assist?

As soon as the door was shut, he pleaded that he was nervous. His cock betrayed him. It was tenting out his khakis. I barely rubbed it twice and he pushed my hand away to pull down the zipper. #He wasn’t THAT nervous.

Though I had navy suit pants on, I didn’t hesitate to go to my knees. I didn’t even check the condition of the cement floor. I didn’t care.

He pulled his cock out of the unzipped pants, but not his balls. That’s ok. I was happy he wasn’t one of these unfasten my pants and have them fall to the floor kind of guys. I always love a guy who just hauls it out of the open fly. And really, I’m not sure we were in a position to drop his drawers. It’s not like I ever unzipped or pulled my cock out. That’s not what we were here for.

I immediately took him into my mouth and immediately one of his hands went to my head. He was a natural at doing this. DL, Married, or not. This wasn’t his first time. Possibly not even the first time in this locked.

He had good verbal skills too. While he kept his voice low and soft, that actually worked to my advantage too. Not just about not getting caught, but there is a certain depravity / sexiness to a man who talks like that during sex.

Yeah – treat my cock good” was one of those things. “Your mouth feels great on my cock” was another. It didn’t’ slip past me that he never said ‘dick’. It was always ‘cock’. There is a certain sleaziness about that word instead of ‘dick’ – at least I think so.

His cock was super hard. It would flex against my tongue. I would use that tongue with each insert and exit. Lips, mouth and especially tongue. His shaft responded to that.

A second hand went to my head. The grip from both became tighter. His insistence greater. His thrusts harder. His legs got shakier. But he wasn’t quite ready. He sped up. But he still wasn’t ready. The breathing got heavier and I thought he was there, but not just yet he wasn’t. He was speaking, but not really saying words…nothing fully formed anyways.

The legs got a bit shakier and then I felt warmth. And heard a heavy sigh. It was relief on all ends for him. Somewhere in that release was a mention of 4-5 days. The warmth kept coming…and cumming. I let it gather in my mouth, on my tongue before letting it slide down my throat into my stomach. I wanted to feel it, smell it, taste it.

And then I ate it. Every drop.

He wasn’t sensitive, so he didn’t pull away. He let me milk it a little.

When I did pull away, he was quick to tuck himself together. I noticed stains on the cement. They weren’t his cum, but part of my saliva that dripped from my mouth as he used it over and over and over again.

I thanked him and left the locked room. I wasn’t too far out of it when he left too. There was a message later that he’d be back on Wednesday. I’m not sure if that was an invitation or not, but we’ll see. He also said, “that was fucking hot!”

And it was. And maybe it will be again.

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Volunteer

I know it is probably wrong for me to hook up with an impressionable 22 year old. I definitely know it is wrong for me to hook up with someone who is a volunteer where I work, even if he does not volunteer in my area.

But you know, there he is – 22 years old, strapping, big dicked and all of 425 feet from me. At least according to Scruff.

And for the record, it’s not like I reached out to him, he contacted me. And I get that for a 22 year old to do that, there are most likely daddy-issues involved. But I’m a man and susceptible to hard-ons just because the wind blows, let alone the attention of a college-aged lad.

The first time – oh yes, there has been more than once – he only wanted to suck me. Not my ideal, but I had to gain his trust. So down to his knees he went – in my office, after hours. Well mostly after hours. Some folks were still around, but they were sparse. We had to be quiet and I told him so. I knew I could keep my mouth shut, and though his would be full, I didn’t know his moaning situation.

The kid might have been 22 (I say ’22’ a lot here, don’t I?) but he was no novice. No sir. He had some very experienced lips and throat. In the back of my mind, I thought maybe his daddy-issues stemmed from daddy himself. Or maybe that was my hope. And by ‘maybe’ I mean ‘definitely’….my hope, that is, not necessarily the reality. While he was working on my rod, he pulled out his own. Impressive doesn’t begin to cover it. Big, meaty, thick. While he was barely a man, he had a man’s cock to be sure. I’m sure some in his high school and college gyms gave second looks in awe or envy. Or lust. Or all three.

“Ben” tugged on his meat while he expertly sucked mine.

The thrill of having him there, along with where were doing it spurred me on faster than I would have normally taken. I told him it would be a big load and to be prepared. I also confirmed that he would swallow. He took it all like a champ. Like I said, he was no novice – not by a long shot. Even experienced cocksuckers will gag or eventually pull off my cock before I’m done shooting. Not Ben. Every single drop was ingested. He was good.

Immediately when he was done, he showed signs of being right at the edge of his own orgasm and I do mean RIGHT at the edge. I swooped down as fast as I could and I technically I got it, but there wasn’t much to get. I think the orgasm was mostly internal – and being 22, you know this wasn’t even the first time he had gotten off today, so the volume was minimal.

The second time, we traded sequences. I was the one on my knees first.

The cock was fucking beautiful. And he had big, swinging nuts.



Here is where Mr. 22 Year Old lacked. He was a clumsy feeder. Ben didn’t quite have the movements down most of the time. He could not time his thrusting to my bobbing, no matter how many times I tried to readjust things on my end. I realize that I couldn’t educate him right then, so I took the initiative to change the pace, but to no avail. No matter what I did, his movements were awkward and inexperienced. Clearly, the experience he had was on his knees, not in the feeding category. But this is what your 20s are for………or teens for some of us………to learn how to feed and eat. I considered this part of his education.

I will give him this, he knew how to grab a head and fuck a face. Or he knew the idea to do it, even if the mechanics weren’t all that fluid. This is a skill he will refine over time, no doubt. And I’m happy to help him practice said skill.

His load was ok. Nothing great, but again, I’ll defer that being younger, and remembering what it was like to be that age, the act of getting off was a frequent occurrence, every single day. Still, I took every drop like he had done to me and showed I could do as well as he. I wouldn’t say he was impressed, but guys that age rarely are, or rarely show it.

The third time, it was just me on my knees. No reciprocation. The clumsiness was still there. The face fucking took center stage more often than not, though he allowed me to basically worship his phallus. My tongue would run along the underside of his shaft, then the side, then around the head, all before swallowing him down to his pubes. Then the face fucking would begin again.

Again, the load was ok, but for me, at least with him, it was about showing him what a good mouth can do on a great cock.

He wanted to watch me jack off and shoot after he was done, but you know me, jacking off isn’t really my thing. I played along for a bit knowing I would never shoot. And eventually he had to get back to his volunteering duties. Though if I could sign-off on his learning abilities in this position, I would. I just don’t think whomever he reported to would appreciate as much as some of you.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Cold As Ice

It's been a while.   Miss me???

I've been bad - - at least when it comes to writing. On the other hand, I've been ok, just not bad enough......if you know what I mean.

Sorry about the unexcused absence.



Yes, the KISS guy has already returned.

...and he brought this.....



I gotta say, I'm not a dildo guy. I find them awkward for the most part. Granted, I haven't played with them that much, but my dexterity to reaching between my legs and fucking myself with one has never been great. Nor was reaching behind me to impale myself on one the easiest thing either.

And even more rare, was someone using one on me.

That said, I'm up for new adventures. The more the day wore on - as I knew he would be bringing a balled, glass dildo - the more I found myself getting a chub.

So he showed - and in his pocket I saw something wrapped in protective gear. I guess that stands to reason, as one wouldn't want cracked or chipped glass anywhere. I know I wouldn't.

The session started with a little frottage....on both our parts. Then I was down on my knees sucking his cock. That did not last that long.

He actually teased my nipples, though a little harder than the previous time. I'm not complaining - just a statement of fact. Then his hand rubbed my 'taint and beyond, grazing my asshole to the point I shivered.

He told me to lay back on the home office desk. The heat had mostly been off up there, so I lay my shirt down on the desk to lessen the shock that would be the cold. I waited for the glass to emerge, but all I got was a painted finger - then two - put up my hole.

I've said it before - I'm not a fan of fingers. I find them too boney. Rarely have they ever made me feel good. This was no exception, though I think I put on a good show of pretending that I enjoyed them.

Finally he reached for the covered object. In the protective fabric, it also contained lube and poppers. He came prepared.

The moment he pressed the "head" of the dildo to my ass I shivered. Literally.

He must have had the thing in his car for a while. It was freezing.  .....and yet it felt so incredibly good.

I've mentioned before that I have had guys put ice cubes up my ass.....or had me put them up my ass while they watched. And I have inserted cubes up other guys too...and then licked out the melting water.

But this was freezing cold - in a good way. And iciness combined the ridges - for lack of a better word - sent me over the edge. Well, not literally, as you know I don't cum that easily.

Still, his actions made me quiver and shiver, all in good ways.

He was slow with it - methodical even. Gauging his actions based on my reaction. And then he'd switch it up, whether it be slower, faster, deeper or teasing. The joke is - it was all good.

At some point, he sat in a chair and had me suck his cock while I fucked myself with his glass dildo. That worked too, though he did it better than I did it to myself. Isn't that always the way - I mean, unless it's masturbation.

Soon enough, he substituted cold glass for warm flesh.

With my back on the desk he just rode me, all the while pushing his dyed mane out of his face time and again. Oh - and playing with my nipples.

It didn't take him that long. We were both primed.

He made the inside of my ass warmer when he shot his huge load into my guts.

As soon as he was done, he was dressed and gone.

......until next time he's horny.

I guess my big question is:  do I need one of these glass things?  Or was it just a situational high?

Wednesday, February 03, 2016

KISS and a Fuck

It had been a while - not a long long while, but a while - but the KISS guy returned.

Save one time, everything has been oral. And while my ass twitches for cock, I know not to expect it from him. For the most part, it's an oral thing. He likes getting sucked, and I'm a cocksucker, so it pretty much works out.

It was morning. I had a late meeting off-site, so I didn't have to leave home at an early hour. He texted as he sometimes does, and asked if I was free. I was, but gave him a time limit. I assumed it would be no issue - a quick blow and go. I mean, when I want to, I cam make the head last, or if I'm in a hurry - regardless of their schedule - I can get a guy off in no time.

Sometimes it is not about the process. Sometimes it is just about lightening a guy's nuts. Guys are not really that complicated.

KISS guy came in his usual black garb - including shorts and flip flops, even though it was in the 20s. His long mane was out of control - clearly, he had just gotten up.

The guy knows about my nipples. Some guys know how to work them, most do not. He has learned over time just how to manipulate them. The problem is, he never really follows through even though he knows to what they are actually wired:  my butthole.

While I did go to my knees, I didn't stay there long, but it was by his insistence.....not that I was putting up a fight.

I was on my knees and he reached down to play with my tits. I'm sure I visibly quaked, though I don't know I notice these things much in my own self. He hauled me up by my armpits. Well.....'haul' is a strong word. He started to get me up, I helped matters along.

KISS turned me around. I dropped my pants. He added his own spit to his cock. I was bent over the kitchen counter, took a hit of poppers and he buried himself up my poop chute.

It was fucking heaven.

It wasn't a long fuck - maybe 5 minutes. But he was skilled at what he was doing. He made me ask for it - the dick, the fuck and eventually, the load.

Oh, I asked. And by asked, I mean, begged.

It's a good thing my neighbors moved, and their house is empty. I'm sure they might have heard, even though the residence is hundreds of feet away.....and the doors and windows were shut.

I told him to send me to a meeting with his huge load shot up my ass.

He always has huge fucking loads, so I knew this would be no different. From the throbbing I suspected I was right. Honestly, I think the idea of me sitting in a three hour meeting with his jizz in me actually made him squirt.

I like how he stays in. I get to milk the shaft with my muscles. He groans, but stays put. I'm sure I got every drop.

I was still rock hard when he pulled out. I offered to jack off and let him watch me shoot, but he had no interest. He got what he came for...and you know me well enough to know I was ok with that.

I could have easily shot after he left, but I didn't. I straightened up, zipped up and left for my meeting - where I sat for over three hours with his fucking spunk coating my guts.

Thursday, January 28, 2016

Tics

I should know to stay away from 25 year olds on Grindr. Nothing much good comes from them.

If they're not complete meth whores, they are then usually totally inexperienced. I mean, I do have one semi-repeat that is hotter than fuck, huge cock and somewhat together, though I sense he might be doing more PnP activities when he's not working  - but we all know that's a slippery slope.

But a week or so ago, I got a message on the app. In a weak-ish moment I headed over to him, as he was less than a mile away.

It's amazing what distance will and won't do. When does 3 miles become too far?? Is distance more an obstacle if they're average looking or just a 'he'll do' scenario? It's not like it is 3 miles trekking over the Rockies with the Donner party or anything. I'm not even taking public transportation - I have my own car and everything!

Still, a mile seemed to be as far as I'd venture out for this post-millennial. His selfie was just ok- maybe 5'8", 145, brown hair, clean shaven. But it's me we are talking about here - it was his cock pic that tipped the scales in his favor.


It's nice, right?

So you see why I acquiesced and went after he assured me he wasn't into getting high.

It was an old apartment building. He told me to use the back staircase. He never bothered to fucking mention there were four of them. When he answered in text later that it was the one 'near the laundry room' I tersely remarked - 'as if I fucking know where that is!'.

I was already in danger of people reporting me for going up and down two other external staircases, checking out apartments, ones that only one out of every three actually had apartment numbers on them. How the fuck was I to know where #20 was?

BikeGuy was annoyed - and he wasn't even at the door, let alone in it.

I knocked, he answered in his underwear. It was like 19 out and not that much warmer in his space - one similar to something I lived in back in college. It was a flood of questionable memories for me. I felt for him - or what I assume was him - struggling, on his own, but at least had his own space, such as it was. For me, it was far from glamorous and it was a weigh station to where I'd end up. I wasn't that thrilled to relive it even for 20 minutes.

When he opened the door and I walked in, he had the weirdest behavior and laugh. For a few minutes I assumed he had lied about the getting high - as he seemingly just randomly chuckled.

The best way to describe him and his behavior is in this clip - especially at the 0:45 mark.



The "laughs" are identical. It kind of freaked me out.

I think I figured out a few minutes in that maybe he wasn't high, but was somewhere on the Tourette's spectrum or possibly the Autism one.........or both.

If so, I didn't feel so bad about where he was living, especially with the 62" plasma screen tv box in his room. He wasn't hurting for things - and if he was somewhat special needs if he could live on his own, mores the better.

Camera angles and shots can be funny. He had a decent dick, but the picture was nicer.

He wanted to suck mine, which I was afraid was always his motive, but he didn't. I didn't allow it. I didn't even take mine out.

I kept my slush covered boots on and we went to his room. I got on my knees and took his briefs down. He was already hard.

In my own mind, I'd like to think he'd never had a blowjob like the one I gave him. It was wet, it was deep, there was lots of tongue action. He trembled. He had that laugh - nerves, perhaps. But you could sense the inexperience.

I know some guys get off on that newbie vibe. I'm not that guy. I like guys with a few notches on their headboard. I like experience and a man who knows what he is doing. This wasn't that guy.

Still, it wouldn't take long. For the young guys - it rarely does. For the new to the scene, even less so.

The load was mediocre - in size and taste.  The size was probably due to the fact he was 25 (though he looked 18) and probably still jacks off four times a day. And it was 11a, so he'd probably gotten off twice that morning.

Doubtful I'd go back......but I've been known to repeat shit like this.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

A Little Sad

He was a repeat technically. It's been over a decade since I'd seen him - and even wrote about it. And this time it was a few months ago, though I'm just getting around to posting about it now.

While his profile pics still looked nice, in reality he had changed. But it had been a decade plus, so none of us are the same. Though I'd argue that the years had been less kind to him.

The blue eyes he once, and still, touted in his screen name were not nearly as vibrant. The crows feet around them were more abundant. The weight gain, more than abundant. And that made his wang look even smaller than it was.

The setting wasn't the majesty of nature either. No - it was just as sad.


It was a Red Roof - and not from a main exit, but one of the secondary ones...which have hotels with outdoor room entrances. I suppose this was a motel. A motor lodge, if you will. It was the kind of exit where the nicest restaurant was probably Subway.

I suppose the saddest part of this whole thing was: I still went. And stayed.

Part of me figured: "I came all this way....."   It's not enough reason to stay, but it is the one I'm going with.

The sex I so fondly remembered was probably just that - a memory. It probably wasn't as good as I thought, though this time there'd be no mistaking it.

Perhaps he hid it better last time, or maybe he's taken up smoking in the last 10 years. Ashtrays were filled in his room. Multiple open packs of Marlboro reds were on either a dresser, bedside table or on top of the tv. The room reeked of smoke. I didn't even know there were chain hotels that allowed this anymore. Or maybe he was just resigned to the fact he would lose a $250 deposit.

Kissing was off the table. Actually, facing him soon became off the table.

The best way to describe what next happened was spooning jack rabbit sex.  I have to believe, it was was unpleasant for all - including him. I mean, he couldn't have thought it was good, right?

I'd like to give you detail - I think - but there is nothing memorable about the actual sex. Or I've wiped it as much as possible from my memory.

Lessons are learned ....usually.  But I don't think there will be a third encounter......a decade from now, or anytime.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Dud

He took a step into my house and exhaled.

Not as in a sigh, but as in, he had just taken a last huge drag of his cigarette before I opened the door, and wasn't nice or courteous enough to just finish outside.

I'm not thrilled with smokers anyways, let alone heavy ones - like, judging by the smell of his clothes, skin and the taste of his jizz (oops - spoiler alert), he was. But really, who the fuck thinks its ok to basically smoke in someone's house without asking? And I had the added bonus of the butt just tossed on my walk.

This guy and I have been playing Scruff-tag for years. I just assumed with him it was a game. Let's Tease the Faggot kind of thing. Or he was just all talk. But he was meeting someone at a bar and needed head badly he said. I told him, I don't give bad head. He headed over.

His leaving "right now" for a three mile drive took him 40 fucking minutes. Seriously. Maybe he had to stop for and smoke an entire pack of cigarettes before he pulled up. It sure smelled that way.

On Scruff, I was to address him as "Sir". I'm good with that. When he gets here, it's "Hi, I'm Jim". Well THAT was a mood killer. Sorry dude, I wasn't really interested in your name.

He was there, so you know I would follow through - or a pretty good chance I would. If you read this blog regularly, I rarely turn folks away. I power through the mediocre ones.....and sometimes even the bad ones.

"Jim" seemed nice enough, but I was ignoring the red flags. The tardiness, the smoking, the small cock.....  Yes, I never ask their size because hopefully it doesn't matter. He wasn't teeny or anything, but I thought with all his bravado he might be bigger. I know there is no correlation, but a cocksucker can dream - right?

Still, there I was on my knees, working it like I treat every cock. I mean, I DO love to suck cock and I love the ability I have to draw a man's load out of his nut and into my mouth. There is a certain power there....even for a lowly bottom.

If I'm totally being honest - I was getting no read from the guy if I was doing a good job or a bad one. My other assumption was that if he needed this so badly, why wasn't I getting any feedback. I am totally fine with a guy telling me what not to do, as much as when another expounds positively upon my skills.

At some point, he wanted to fuck and I was ok with that. But after taking a hit of poppers, the man lost his hard on. Almost not amount of trying could get him hard again.

Then he was staying the herniated disk in his back was killing him and he couldn't stand. I didn't have the heart to tell him he put his dead down into the dog bed, but at that point, who really cared?

As he winced in pain, he jacked his cock. The jacking egasserbated his back, I'm sure.

He eventually sat in a chair to do it getting himself to the edge.  The huge load no guy could handle was not a challenge. If anything, it was a little chunky. Not a thick load - well, it was - but actually chunky.

I gulped it down. What else was I gonna do?

He apologized profusely for not being able to perform correctly. He was hoping this wouldn't sully any future encounters. I promised him it wouldn't, though I wondered how I would put him off. As it would turn out, it might not be a concern.

I've never heard from him again.

Tuesday, January 05, 2016

Numbers

Throughout the year, I've alluded to having some sort of goal last year, in terms of the nunber of "encounters" I was shooting for.  Pun fully intended.

I would say halfway through the year, my goal slightly altered. And with the holidays and things, I was coming perilously close to not achieving an arbitrary goal that mattered little to anyone.

Rest assured, I met my goal....with a week to spare - though had the holiday and work obligations not gotten in the way, I would have surpassed it.

I could easily tell you the number, but then any suspicions of you all thinking I was a whore are kind of solidified......and that's something you can't quite erase from your brain.

The goal was for a certain load count.....if I'm being frank. If I got fucked or sucked a cock that didn't cum, they didn't count. And yes, I counted......on a spreadsheet.  Sorry Bruce - I didn't build a pivot table.

And by loads, I also meant my own. Did I give? If so, where?  Did I jack off?

That last category number is surprisingly low. Nine times did I jack off in 2015. That is what most of you do in a week. And I never jacked off alone. Ok - maybe once.  It was because I was asked by certain partners to do so. Sometimes I complied - because I believe they deserved it. Sometimes I did not.

As you know - me getting off isn't my thing. It's nice, but not always necessary. Rarely, actually.

So, the list included things like - delivery methods.....


No huge shock that me sucking guys off was the majority of the load consumption. I'd have liked the red pie to have been bigger, but not everyone is worthy.  Not even to a guy like me. 

Then I broke it down by if they were a new person or a repeat. For a long time it was 50 / 50, but the more new guys I got, they often turned into repeats....so.....it stands to reason. Only 3% of the loads achieved were mine.  That sounds about right, no? 

Right or wrong, I also broke it down by race.  Is it possible I didn't have sex with one Asian man? The numbers don't lie. Though honestly, it seemed that I had a bigger black population than actually showed up in the numbers. Sure, their cocks were bigger, but I didn't make the count based on length or girth. Somehow, I remember them more though. 

....maybe you can't go back, after all. 

Not for nothing, but I broke it down by where we connected.  Those numbers get a little skewed - as the initial contact might have been craigslist, but then it was by phone or email for return visits. Still, craigslist gets a bigger slice of the pie....barely. 

And I broke it down where we did it too. House, Apartment, Hotel, home Office, etc. 

I don't know I will continue this self-reporting, but I probably will. I don't expect to have a goal like I just completed. My work schedule now will no longer support these kinds of numbers.

Not that you know what those actual numbers are.     :@)

Friday, January 01, 2016

Toilet Pig

I apologize for falling off the blogging bandwagon. Work and holidays got the better of me - not just with writing, but with the ability to do anything to write about (i.e. sex!).

I once told the Breeder that if I didn't blog for a week, he should just assume I'm dead. I guess I should amend that statement a little.

Anyways............let's do a brand new fresh story. One of today. Yes. Not exactly real time, but a few hours later.....................

Let's just start out that it was with the guy I had sex with last New Year's Day. He was my first load of 2015 and 2016. I believe we now have a tradition to keep up.

"PJ" had no qualms about saying he wasn't after head with me. Not again. He wanted something else. My ass.

Who the fuck am I to argue with that?

He comes to town over the holidays and that is great, though he isn't free as he is here to visit folks. And depending on my work / holiday schedule, I'm not always free to make it or to host - hence the giving head at a train station in a car during sub-zero weather.

We had texted a few times during 2015 - so it was no surprise he was coming to town, though we didn't talk particulars. Still, it was of little surprise when he texted me yesterday that he wanted time with me. All our mild weather had taken a turn for frigid weather, just like last year. Balls.

But he made it clear, it was not my mouth he was after. He was even specific with this text message:


I suppose, when reading this you could take it a few ways. I only took it one. 

To me, he wasn't just asking for me to provide the rubber. ...but I should backtrack. 

During our chats during the year, there has been implied, but not outright stated, fantasy on stealthing. He liked reading about it. He would never actually do it - allegedly. But going by this text, if that situation were taken out of his hands and made my responsibility he'd be ok with it? 

When I replied "I understand"....I did.......but in my own way, knowing it best not to ask any questions. Perhaps I made assumptions. Perhaps not. 


Since I made assumptions, I took the initiative.  The expiration date was pure coincidence. Honest. The little hole around Lot Exp - not so much. 

As neither of us could host, I thought of the train station again, as they are doing some work there and there is a port-a-john in a remote area of the parking lot. As long as neither of us pulled up next to it, I thought we could be good. It would be cold, but not in the biting wind. And outside, there was no place with cover to do "it" anyways. 

Since it was in an affluent neighborhood and the workers were minimum, the port-a-pot was clean and had not smells. It stopped the howling wind, but not the cold. And since it wasn't one of the handicap ones, there was not tons of room. Quite the opposite. 

I went in first to check the setting. Also so no one would notice two guys walking into a portable crapper. I texted him the coast was clear. He joined. 

First there was a great kiss, followed closely with a heavy handed slap across the face. Slightly unexpected on one hand, completely not on another. It had been in prior conversations how he think I might be all talk on how I like to be treated (yes, he reads this blog) and one of my statements that kissing is more intimate than fucking. It all made sense to me......and no doubt to him. 

I pulled down my sweat pants, and lubed my hole. I pulled out the condom and gave it to him. He had me bend down to lube up his cock with my spit. That didn't last long, as I knew my mouth was not his hole of choice. 

I turned around, took a hit of poppers. He lined his now covered cock up with my hole and pushed in. It felt good. It felt right. It had been a month since I had a cock up my ass - not a piece of information he cared about, as he let me know in no uncertain terms. 

He was good - really good - at fucking. Probably better if we weren't in such a confined space. But you have to make due, right?

As he bottoms out and starts to pump, he let me know "you're a fucking toilet pig".

It was hard to deny. Freezing temps. In a portable toilet. Pants around my ankles. And an almost stranger's cock up my ass.  It was kind of hard to deny. I answered somewhat in the affirmative, though now I'm not quite sure exactly how that came out.

We were making the toilet move, so I did worry that someone might notice that. The normal folks walking their dogs would never notice - a cop might. But I've been in that area hundreds of times and can't think of ever seeing police around....especially on a frigid New Year's Day.  I think that's how I got to blow this same guy a year before.

When he pulled out, I found that unexpected. I was hoping he wasn't done. He sat down, and readjusted the rubber - pulling it tight down his shaft and to make it snug against the head of his penis, almost - almost ! - like he knew I had fiddled with prophylactic beforehand. Can you imagine??  He thought I was distrustful???  The nerve!

Then he told me to sit down.....on it. And I did.

It would have been so much easier had I removed my pants, but that meant shoes and places to put all this clothing, and there were really no options. So with his hands firmly on my hips, I rode his cock, with his assistance. This position didn't stop the facility from moving any less, by the way  (the more you know folks................the more you know!  I am like a public service announcement for you all.)

This seemed to go on for a while until he pulled me fully down into his lap. His shaking and moans - but no words - let me know he was finishing in me.  Or in the rubber.  Yeah..............the rubber.

We stayed in that position as I used my muscles to milk the still rigid shaft planted in my ass. He made no moves to get me off him.

When I did, I very innocently mentioned I though the rubber failed. He took it off quickly and discarded it saying 'no - everything was fine'.

I stood turned fully around and he mentioned I was hard.

I was more than hard. The man. The set-up. The setting. Everything about it was wrong - but in a right way. Hot and sleazy, on such a Winter's day.

He wanted to see me jack off. I asked if he was sure. He was. I was close anyways and asked where. He pulled open his shirt and pulled up his white t-shirt.  "On the belly", he said. So I did. Or tried.

I'm a big shooter. And I had not cum for a week. And with the excitement and the enclosure, keeping the ejaculation controlled wasn't really easy. Sure, some went on his belly. Some in his bush and on or near his cock. Some covered his pure white t-shirt. Some maybe hit his shirt. My semen was fucking everywhere.  It took him quite a while to even slightly clean up.

I made my exit first.  Got in my car and texted him that the coast was clear.

Afterwards, he fled the state. Later I had to use the restroom....and nothing but cum escaped from my ass.

Sure, I might have played loose with the truth on the condom condition, but so did he.

Everything was beautifully executed.....at least in my mind. A good way to start the year.