Tuesday, September 30, 2014

1 of 5

I had been with him before. Just once. And it was good then.

Now here it was, a Saturday night in a hotel. He was not far from where I was staying, so it was an easy trip for him. I'd been drinking, though not drunk. I was relaxed.

Relaxed is fine, since the man sports a FAT 8.5" cock.  ...and I had no poppers. Truth be told, I'm rarely using poppers now. Regular breathing relaxes me and I don't get limp dick or a headache.

He was right on time. On one level, I felt the need to kiss him, but it didn't quite work. Kissing is more intimate than fucking and let's face it: this was a fuck.

I was already stripped when he arrived. He quickly did the same. With my jar of Albolene near the bedside, I rubbed some generously on his cock.

It's a little bit of a blur now, but I think we started with me on my back. To be fair, we ended up in most positions, other than me riding his cock.

Ok, I know I've been "active" lately, but I was pretty surprised how well I dilated that hole and how he sunk that big, fat cock into me with greater ease than I imagined. The beer probably did not hurt matters.

The hotel room had two beds. Sometimes I have sex in one and sleep in the other when I get a set-up like that. I was on my back when the squeaking started. That sound you hear in hotel rooms where, even if there is no verbal sound, you know someone is doing the nasty.

There was no headboard banging, just the mattress on a make-shift platform squeaking to the movement of the guy plowing my hole. All for anyone in room 148 to hear....or 246 or 250. Assuming people occupied those rooms.

I'm not a shy person, but I felt a little self conscious about the noise. I tried kneeling on the bed and the same thing happened. We went to the chair, where I knelt in it, with him tapping my ass from behind. That was ok, but still the chair moved with each thrust.

We even tried the floor, but the room was limited and the carpet was not comfortable. We opted to go back to the bed, the squeaking be damned.

At this point, we just went for it. Or he did. I was the recipient - as I should be - and just took the drilling like a good boy. I did my job by using my ass muscle to grip this thick shaft - and it seemed to resonate with him.

Before I knew it, he was flooding my hole with hot cum. And I took it like a champ.

And even though we were familiar with each other, it was just a different kind of parting of the ways. It was sex and nothing else and we both knew it. Still.....while not bad, it just seemed odd.

So be it. It was now past midnight and he had to get going.

And I was finding out I was still not sated. I went online to look for another opportunity.

Friday, September 26, 2014

I've Got a Great Tongue

I'm not bragging about my tongue. The short trick told me so.

I had, in fact, placed a CL ad that basically stated: "anyone can suck a cock.....but don't YOU deserve better??"

And honestly, it's the truth.

At least where I am, it's a fight to get to your knees or to the bottom. And it's all the same fucking ad(s) that are just 'renewed' daily. No imagination. No marketing. I thought I'd change that.

I've mentioned here before that I've written clever ads....and got almost zero response. People on CL M4M ads are not looking for clever. Or don't understand it. Or both. I was just trying to set myself apart from the hundreds of ads that are asking for cock.

So somewhere in the title, the word "WORSHIP" came into play.

That word actually weeded out a few of the wackos. And while it only got a two true people responding, they were indeed real contenders. I ended up meeting both of them. This is one of their tales.

"Tony" was about 5'6", slim build, married, Italian man, but not very hairy. 7", nice sized thickness. Honestly, it wasn't bad that he had to schedule out days in advance. "Worship" was not necessarily about immediacy, or shouldn't be. It showed we were both serious about the meet-up.

He arrived right on time and ready.

He dropped his pants and took his shirt back over his head, though it remained on hanging on his shoulder blades. I went to my knees and lightly rubbed my face against his still-briefed crotch. Immediately, he started to stiffen and grow within that cotton prison. He started to pull them down and I pushed his hands away. That was for me to take care of.

I gnawed a little on the pouch, but didn't soak it, as I knew someone at home might see it. I'm a thoughtful cocksucker. Soon enough, my thumbs were in there, pull them down.

I purposefully made eye contact as I did this, as part of the worship. The cock would be serviced either way - small or large. It was about making the connection that I was on my knees looking up at him and more importantly, he was looking down at me: literally and figuratively.

Nor was I going right to sucking his cock. Anyone can do that. Most everyone does do that.

No, I took the tip of my tongue and gingerly made it dance along the underside of his shaft - gong from base to tip. It made his rod twitch and jump.

I slowly licked the sides of his cock too and even the top before lightly touching the head with my tongue. He was moaning in pleasure and possibly a little frustration. But he wanted worship. He had had blowjobs. Still, the mindset, of most guys (I think), is that a cocksucker is to get right to the job.

Of course, I eventually enveloped the head of his cock. But just the head. I let both of us savor the feeling from two very different perspectives.  Slowly, but surely, I sank my lips down to his crotch - skin touching skin.......and pubes.

I let that sit back at the edge of my throat for at least a minute.....letting him know I had him all in me. Letting me adjust to the cock, as it did get thicker as you headed toward the base. But I liked to feel the weight of the shaft, the feel of the cock, filling up my mouth. I wanted him to know realize where it was and what was truly going on.  ....and yes, of course, I looked up at him, while he looked down.

All the while I'm using the tips of my fingers to barely touch his legs.....all the way up and down. It's a very sensual move that most guys do not experience and it heightens the blowjob experience. Try it. Trust me.

As I moved slowly and deliberately up and down his cock, I made my tongue move on the underside of his shaft. You could feel his appreciation in the throb of his dick. You could hear it in his moans as well.

Since he was sitting in a chair at this point, I went lower. To his balls. Licking them, not sucking. He loved that too. But not as much as when I went to flick my tongue on his 'taint.  It is a highly sensitive area on most guys - and underutilized by eaters.

I'm not sure if he expected me to go further south, but I did. I tongue worshipped his hole too. Licking. Eating. Flicking. Tickling. You name it. He was in fucking heaven.

Somewhere during all this is when he told me I had a great tongue.

At this point, he stood up, placed me between his thighs and the wall and fucked my face. I'd been working on him for almost 50 minutes. He liked the worship, but now he wanted his reward.

Trust me, I wanted it too. I'm not exactly doing this for charity. I wanted the white gold. He was all too happy to give it to me.

I don't know when he came last, but it was a fucking huge load. Thankfully, he wasn't sensitive after he came and let me nurse that dick for a while. I made sure to milk out every drop, squeezing it gently with my mouth and jaw.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014


We're pushing 600 blog posts here and sad (?) to say, this isn't even scratching the surface of the amount of guys I've been with, let alone the number of loads.

But for all those guys, even if we stayed in that 600 number, very few, if any, have been red-haired.

Yes, I know they are of a more rare breed in general, but when you narrow it to gay tops or feeders, the subset is quite quite small.

You'd think I'd remember if I ever have had the pleasure of a ginger, but I honestly do not remember. And there is always a chance that some guy on the other side of a gloryhole had hair like Bozo the Clown, but that is the beauty and curse of truly anonymous sex.

But I have definitely bagged one.  Just the other day, in fact.

35. 6 foot. Maybe 210. Hairy. Full red beard. From his Scruff pic, I knew he had a green start inked on the side of his neck. As it would turn out, he had a lot more ink as well.

Generally, I assume ginger's to have less body hair. This guy had a shaved head, but a fairly hairy chest and shoulders. The rest of him had hair too, but not as much.

It was to be a blow n go. It was his day off and he had things to do. So did I.

I arrived at his suburban house. He took me into a basement bedroom, which made me wondering if he still lived with his parents and they were out.

He was shirtless but had on casual cotton.....not pajama bottoms, but you know what I mean. Nothing on under those, as he untied them and let them drop to the floor. His 6.5" cock, thick was hard. Standing straight out. He was as ready to receive this blowjob as I was ready to give it.

While I was going to my knees anyways, he placed his hands on my shoulders ensuring I'd make the journey safely. In seconds, I was on his basement bedroom floor, my mouth an inch from his cock.

Being the tease I can be - or the tantalizing cocksucker, depending on how you view it - I didn't go right to enveloping the shaft. No. I took my tongue and lightly traced alone the underside of his rod, making it quiver and pulse.

Only upon going back up to the head did I part my lips to take in the head....and then below.....and then below.....until I hit his thick red bush.

He took one hand and placed it on the back of my head. He wasn't quite guiding me nor restraining me. It was there to do either of those two things should he think I wasn't doing my job correctly or if he didn't want me to stop doing what I was doing.

Fair enough. He didn't know me from Adam. I could easily be one of those guys who pulls back at the last minute. Or I could be a newbie cocksucker who didn't figure out what he liked or what he didn't, and needed some kind of oral education.

He cooed his praise, or something similar. He didn't say I was doing a great job, but talked dirty to me. Talked down to me.

With both hands on my shoulders, he told me there were some men who were born to be on their knees, and some who were born to stand in front of them. I'm not too proud to admit, that I unbuttoned my jeans to feel my now rock hard cock at that statement.

Now and then, the hand on the head would tighten. I would notice the slow acceleration of his hips as he eased me into what would become a full-on face fucking.

"You like to be face fucked".   It wasn't a question.

It would have been rhetorical anyways. I didn't respond anyways. I kept doing my job.

Once or twice he pushed me back to lick his nuts. Not because he wanted his nuts lapped at (though he didn't mind it) as he was getting closer than he wanted to. He was getting closer than I wanted him too. Anticipation of a guy getting his nut is just as important as actually getting it.  At least from where I kneel.

But I knew this was a blow and go, though I had temporarily forgotten about that. So did he, it seemed. We were both drawing out the inevitable.

I went back to being face fucked....or alternately doing my lip and tongue dance on his cock while he lorded above me.

But he went back to taking over and my beard was being pummeled by his short hairs.

"You're gonna take it".

I love he didn't ask me if I wanted to.

I don't know how long it had been since he came, but it was a lot of fucking cum. Not that I missed a drop, mind you.  There was minimal taste, but it was the capturing of the load, his load, that was important - to him and to me.

I licked my lips. I licked him clean. I stood, buttoned myself up and found my way to the door....after thanking him, of course.

I'm nothing if not a gracious cocksucker.

Friday, September 19, 2014


He was tall by anyone's standards:  6'11"

Yes - let that sink in for a moment.

He towered over me by 9". That's a lot. But in reality, he towered over me by like 5 feet. As soon as he arrived, he pointed to the ground. I knew that was where he wanted me anyways. On my fucking knees.

Yes, 6'11". 300 lbs.

The weight seems outrageous, but he potentially had the frame to carry it off. I think at one point, he probably did. No doubt a football star in high school....maybe college. He had let some of that 300 pounds go. It was probably never super tight, but it was less so at this point.

And yes, he was black. Black as the dead of night.  And claims of a thick 8.5" cock.

As the post title says: Imposing.

Let's get this right off the table. He was maybe 7". Not 8.5". He was thick, so I'll give him that. He started off small so as he started to grow, I was hopeful. Alas, 7. Not 8.5.

He leaned right up against the wall and tilted his head back. While now and again he looked down to see his solid black rod passing my pink lips and and white mouth, much of the time his head was back and eyes were closed.

I don't know if this was a DL kind of guy, but I assumed he was. He like the oral stimulation, but perhaps not as much the visual one. It's one thing to feel the warm, wet mouth clamping around your cock - it's another knowing a dude is the one providing that service.

Of course, this is my own interpretation.

However, just as easily, the work 'cocksucker' would roll off his tongue. He was clearly ok to do that, thus acknowledging some guy was on his knees in front of him.

But making a guy feel dirty for sucking your own dick probably makes some feel better. I hope it does. It totally makes me hard to hear it.

I didn't do anything special. Tongue. Lips. Mouth. Throat. The usual, though I know I have experience to work a rod.

He blew in my mouth - and just like his cock size, the load was not nearly as big as he thought. It was ok. It tasted ok.

I was just hoping for more of....well.....everything.....from a guy that size.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Tennis 3

Tennis players are iffy "lovers" at best.

At least that's my experience in the last month. This is the last of my tennis series, for sure.

#3 was staying in a flea-bag hotel. I've lived here a long time and didn't know this place existed. I felt like I was getting bed bugs just pulling into the parking lot and not convinced my car would be there upon my return.

He was 5'7", blonde, smooth, maybe 6.5". Claimed to be masculine. I had to ask after the softball player. He claimed to be very much so.  So off I went to scary hotel-land.

I knocked three times before he answered. Actually, I would end up saying most thing three times as it turns out he was deaf and his hearing aid was on the bedside table - which I saw as I was leaving.

Tennis players are iffy at being in-shape too.  Two of the three didn't look like they could run around a court for an hour - let alone longer - at a time, in the scorching heat. He was one of the two.

He was fine and all, but nothing outstanding. A little short for me, but what the hell.

He said little, which was fine, but couldn't hear when telling him to go harder, or deeper or you're missing the hole by an inch. He claimed to be into verbal, but that is really difficult when you can't hear your partner.

Like I said, his 6.5" was fine. He knew how to thrust, but I wouldn't have minded if he had been a little more aggressive. I know since he was shorter, he had a difficult time with angle and thrust.

It took longer to drive there then it did to fuck me. And it wasn't even that long of a drive.

He had me on my back and then ass up on the side of the bed. It was there he drove it home and grunted a little as he unloaded up my ass.

I know this post is uninspired, but so was the meet-up. As I tell you, they're not all winners.  You know how it is with me, you get the winners and the losers.

Keep the faith though - I think I have some winner stories coming up soon. I'm just behind in posting.

Monday, September 08, 2014


He was in town to play softball.

Everything about him was butch.

His pics. Dressed up in and out of leather.

His stats.  6'2", 190, furry, salt and pepper beard, shaved head, good body, 7".

His Scruff exchanges were both coy and direct. Playful and dirty.

...but then he stepped out of the elevator. "Stepped" might be too masculine a term. "Flitted" might be too feminine of one....but just slightly. And then he opened his mouth to speak. UGH.

Hot to look at, but any posturing of being butch went out the door when the gums flapped.

Ok, I know that sounds judgmental and I know I set myself up for this, making assumptions of what a softball player who just won a gold medal should be like. Or what I thought he should be like.

His pics had him in a tight tshirt and chaps. Of course, while I think chaps are the sign of a hot top man, chances are they are just a form of drag and that could have, or should have, been my first clue. But lust overtook logic and I met him at his hotel.

Still, I was there, so I figured, 'why not'.

I went up to his room, with his roommate gone, I dropped my shorts and pulled off my shirt. For the moment he remained clothed. Slowly things were removed to show his 7".

Oddly, there was little foreplay - at least on my part. He did get me back on the bed and pushed my legs back to eat my ass. I love eating ass and having my ass eaten, but this guy was only ok at it. To be fair, he was fine - but I've had such great ass-eatings in the past, I want everyone to be that good.

It was then that he reached for the lube.........and a condom.  Damn.

Not my style but I let him do it.

We fucked that way for a while, but it was hard to be excited about it. I mentioned that it wasn't feeling that good and he tried more lube, but when I said we might have to stop because of a little irritation, he didn't hesitate much to pull it off and push back in me.

He was good at fucking, but insisted on talking - which, truth be told, took the eroticism out of taking it up the ass by an athlete in a hotel room. I kept waiting and hoping for his roommate to show up. He never did.

I didn't see or expect him to be getting close, but he did. He was. And while he didn't pull out to cum, he pulled back so his head was just in my hole. I'm not sure what that was about, but I was ok with it. I had to be.

I jacked off too - just because it had been forever since I came.

You can see part of my load closer to my balls, as it leaked down.

You can see his seeping out of my hole. This pic was almost worth the entire scenario.


As soon as we were done, I was pretty much dressed and gone from there. Nothing great, but nothing terrible. I just need to level my expectations.

Tuesday, September 02, 2014

Tennis 2

Tennis player #2 was much more athletic looking than the first.

He was 36, 6'4", maybe 190, but furry, solid muscle, bearded. He also had twisted his ankle enough that it took him out of competition and he was lonely in a hotel room south of the city with no transport.

It didn't hurt his screen name was something like HungHairyItalian. I kind of focused on the 'hung' part.

He was younger, but not young. He should have been old enough to know that 11 miles away doesn't mean around the corner. Old enough to know that he reaches out to fuck 'now', but also wants you clean - so that doesn't mean you're necessarily ready now. And should me mature enough not to pout about it.

His impatience was not appreciated, though I tried to accommodate him on every level with realistic times and expectations.

At first he turned me down - from his own request, Maybe he couldn't find anything better, or anyone willing to travel to his more remote location, so I got hit up again. And away I went.

He never told me how hung he was, nor did he show me via pics. I also did not ask.

It might sound weird, but I rarely ask how big it is. I'm always hopeful, but I don't take stock in their answers or even the pics they show. I've been mislead more than a time or two.

I was nicely surprised when I got to his hotel. His face was much more handsome than his pic. I certainly liked that he was taller than me. He only had on boxer shorts and those were soon off.

His cock grew to almost 8.5, which is way more than admirable. But it was his girth that was so impressive. Thick from head to base, but there was even a thicker inch or so maybe an inch below the bulbous cock head.

Thick head. Slightly thinner shaft. THICKER shaft. Slightly thinner after that...all the way down to the base.

I'll be honest, I would have loved foreplay, but this guy wasn't about that - in his texts or in person, plus he had a check-out time in less than an hour and it looked liked his luggage had exploded.

During our brief on-line exchange, all he wanted was to bend someone over, or possibly doggie-style fuck. That's it. Nothing else.

His boxers were off, my shorts dropped to my ankles, only taking off one leg to make sure I could spread the way he needed, but not even committing to staying long enough to drop them completely off.

He lubed up as I bent over, putting my palms on the second bed which was still made-up.

Since I've really tried cutting out (or at least back on) poppers, I had none with me, focusing solely on my breathing. It worked well enough for him to pop in and I had to really concentrate as he went in over that second, thicker, ridge.

Once he made it past that, sinking in was all there was left to do. And he sunk until I could feel his chest on my back and the front of his thighs pressed against the back of mine.

For a man who supplied that much cock, his talent could have been better. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't bad, but maybe he had lack of trial and error due to the fact that maybe a few guys couldn't quite take him all the way.

Maybe he was new to topping. I don't know.

I've always said, just because you have a big cock doesn't mean you shouldn't know how to fuck. However, I kind of left that at the door when he put it up my back one.

As unfortunate as it sounds - and was - my one-way drive time was three times longer than his fuck.

But he said it had been six days, and I tended to believe him. He buried it and just let it throb. I could feel each pulse of his rod on my nerve endings. He awakened them all. It felt good. It felt right. It felt necessary.

He wasn't one for keeping his cock in me, unfortunately. Because, that was one dick I would have liked to feel in me for a while before gravity took over. But again, he got what he wanted and had a check-out time.

It was easy enough to pull up my shorts, still around at least one ankle, and take three flights down to the lobby - and I was gone.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Tennis 1

He was in town for a tennis tournament. But he was also on Manhunt.

I think all those rules about not having sex before a big game / tournament are a load of crap, but I'm not a seasoned athlete, so what do I know.

I do know that men have needs, and he was clearly in need, as he was actively on Manhunt looking at my profile. And then contacting me.

52, 6'3", maybe 7", athletic build, but not as much as you'd think for a tennis guy entering national and international tourneys. And "safer only" was also in his profile.

Clearly, his intentions were to breed me. He made that clear. So I'm never sure if the 'safer only' is just to lure more guys in or expand possibilities. It's not like he asked me if I would take it bare. He assumed, he planned, he expected.

The guy was decent. He immediately stripped down to bright orange Under Armor compression shorts. Somehow, they worked for him. I wanted to gnaw on them, making them wet. Hell, I wanted to gnaw THROUGH them, as he was sporting full wood. But I also knew he was leaving when we were done to play a match and I know how much Under Armor costs. So I was nice.

He was 7", like I said, so taking him down to his short hairs was no real problem. He seemed to like my mouth. He made the appropriate noises and said the correct dirty words, muttering them just over his breath instead out loud.

But we weren't there for my mouth.

Soon, I had lubed up his cock, stroking him nice and sensually. It made him even more rigid.

I bent over and he slid it in - all the way home. But he wasn't comfortable with that position for long. Soon I was on my back, holding my own legs while he found the target.

And find it he did. No easing in, he just went balls-deep. He fucked ok, but nothing spectacular. His dirty mouth talked a good game, before and even during. Without that constant pseudo-filth, I'm not sure it would have been hot at all, but he made it work.

You could see him starting to tense up, knowing he was getting close. And then he was there.

There was nothing earth-shattering about his style or cock. He was just a man from out of town, and in need.  I was there to help.

He talked about returning the next day before his doubles match, but I never heard back from him.

That wasn't a problem. Turns out there were other tennis guys who needed assistance too.

Sunday, August 17, 2014


He was in town to compete. He was on Scruff. Many of the athletes were. That's ok - new town. New guys. One's they'd never see again, or want to, most likely.

He was attentive to me. Lots of messages. The pics looked nice. 5'8", 190. Seemed heavy for someone that short, and he was, to a degree. Not sure how he did his routines, but this wasn't professional sports. Nor did I really care all that much. 

Cropped hair, and what he had was turning grey, though not completely there. This is what he looked liked soft.

He asked me to stop by his hotel room and I knock at the appointed time. Several times. I finally gave up and want outside and texted him a few times to no avail. On a chance, I go up once more, knock a few times again - nothing. So I leave.

I should just leave in the first place, no only out of some sort of self-respect, but as soon as you make up your mind and leave, the flake or pseudo-flake will get back with you. It's like they know you're leaving and try to reel you back in.

I was about 7 blocks away when I turned around and went back because he messaged me saying he fell asleep.  Ugh!  I'm not sure if that excuse was lame, or me turning around and going back that was more pathetic. Yet, back I went.

It was clear, I liked his dick more than him. He clearly had time to get high after he "work up" but before I got back there. Because, pot-breath is SO attractive on a guy.  Not.

Since I wasn't really wanting time to know him, my hands went to his nylon shorts and felt his hardening dick through them. I wasted little time getting those down too, as I went to my knees for a little foreplay.

But sucking cock was not what this visit was about. It wasn't said in our text interactions, but the subtext was ass-fucking. Him to me.

We started with me on the edge of the bed, facing away from him, my head and shoulders to the mattress. He pushed that rod against me and my hole opened accordingly. Soon - very soon - he was balls deep. I could feel every inch of black dick inside of me.

He ended up having a good rhythm and eventually fucked me nice and hard - but in that good way. I'd say he went a good 20 minutes just pumping my hole before getting me on my back.

He told me how the people on his gymnastics / cheering team were hoping he'd get laid, as he was getting cranky and pressing them too hard on things and that he needed to relax. He said he really needed this fuck.

There was only about five minutes of time, on my back, when his respirations shallowed and his eyes glazed over and not just from the pot. With a groan, his eyes closed and he shot off deep into me.

This guy was not one for pulling out either. He liked to "dangle", as he called it. Leaving his cock in there. I was ok with that in theory.

While dangling, I could feel him soften, but remain in. He also was asking questions about what else sexually I liked or things that turned me on. While we just chatted about that, he no longer softened, but began to stiffen again.

Before I knew it, I was on my side with him behind me and he pummeled my ass. In another 10 minutes, I was getting an additional load shot into my gut.

I have not had a two-fer in a while and it felt good. He might have needed to unleash, but I needed what he gave just as much. He might not have been the ideal guy, but it was a necessary evil.

He was hoping to see me again during the week he was here, but many others were in town and I rather explore my options, unless nothing else panned out.

I slipped on my nylon shorts and t-shirt and was heading back down to the lobby in just a few minutes. Loads firmly intact. 

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

A Knock at the Door

I had a repeat encounter, plus one.

The repeat guy was in town for the Gay Games. I knew he was coming, but I knew he'd be busy doing things associated with the Games (though he's not actually working for them).

The repeat guy is rough. If you read here, you'll see how he manhandled me last time. He tried pimping me out from afar, but it never worked. It almost never does. If ever.

But between both our work times, family conflicts, our separate times at the Games, and his limited time in town, the plan of getting together was narrowed down to a one hour timeframe. 60 minutes. That was it.

Honestly, that was enough for me. I knew what that hour would bring - spit on my face (check), punches to the chest and abs (check and check), pulling my balls hard (check), slapping my ass (check), force feeding me his cock until I choked and gagged (check!).  I don't mind any of that at all, but prolonged exposure can make a man sore.

I knocked on room 1202 and was let in quickly. Him in a wife-beater and black briefs, he immediately pulled to me to my knees and told me to strip. Off came my clothing.

I was smacked across the face promptly. He was re-establishing his dominance and it was the right thing to do. While we had not had an encounter in 10 months he asserted his alpha-behavior. He followed that with a number of chest and gut punches and yes, even some rough nipple play.

While you know I like my nips played with, doing anything severe to them doesn't excite me - it just make my nipples bigger, which honestly, I don't care for. I don't like the look or feel, but it's kind of the price one gets for having your tits manipulated.

During this, he mentioned something about not playing at all since he was in town because he doesn't like to mix work-life with sex-life but since I was a known entity and not really part of the Games, he felt it was ok.

Stripping off his briefs, he shoved me down on his cock. It wasn't hard when we started, but it didn't take much to get him fully erect. And soon, I was gasping for air as he repeatedly rammed it down my throat, making my eyes water a bit, and spit come out the sides of my mouth.

I am a skilled oralist, but his style made me feel not just out of control, but lesser of a talent than I am with my mouth. He wasn't looking for skill. He wanted me to gag. He wanted me to cough up spit - he got his wish.

He turned around and presented me his ass. It was an ass as smooth as a child....I'm assuming. The hole was clean. Almost too clean. This guy presents as a nice, clean individual, but it's always the affable looking guys who are the nastiest, aren't they? I was skilled here, not that he'd ever tell me. During - he never makes a peep...or barely. Why won't guys be vocal?

I ate for a good 10 minutes and he turned around. I didn't mean harm in starting to protest 'no', as I wanted to continue. That almost protest cost me.

I got a slap upside the head and then a foot down on the face. He pinned my face under his foot and grabbed his camera. He claims to only have joked about taking a pic, but there is a good chance he has that image on his phone.

He picked me up and threw me against the wall. One hand at the back of my neck, his body pressing into me. I knew he wouldn't fuck me. I would have gladly taken it, but that is not his style. He really likes to "know" someone before he penetrates them. Two times in 10 months is not knowing me. But while there, he told me never to talk back to him.

And then he let me eat his hole again.  So, I kind of won.

He had me crawl on all fours over to a chair. While there and sucking his cock, he assembled his electronics on my back and got them ready for packing, as he was to check out as soon as we were done.

....and then there was a knock at the door.

He got up to check the door.  I kind of hid next to the bed, assuming since he had not hooked up on this trip that it was a work colleague. And no, I wasn't really thinking, as he went and opened the door with no pants on and a 7" erection leading the way.

He led guy #2 into the room. Handsome, hairy as fuck, he quickly shed his clothes and I went back to sucking the first guy's cock. Soon I was pushed on to the new guy's dick.

Another 7", but fat. Beautifully straight shaft, I went down on him and this guy did let me use my skill. And he was fucking vocal about it too. I may have fell in love a little bit right there. I worked on him for 2-3 minutes when he pushed me off. I think I got him too close.

I was taken back to #1, who was slapping me in the face as I sucked. I don't know if this turned on or weirded-out guy #2, but I had to figure they had a conversation about me and the new guy knew I was going to be there and for what.

As it turns out, he was a player for a water polo team that was playing in the games.

When I went back to him, sucking expertly, my original guy went behind me and started smacking my ass hard. I can't say for sure what got guy #2 off, but he held my head and pumped a load into my mouth. Thick, but not a lot of cum. I didn't care that much.  I showed him the load, then took his hand to my throat and made him grip it. I swallowed...he felt me swallow. Then I showed him my empty mouth.

I was told to nurse it and I did for almost as long as the blowjob itself, as I got smacked around. Finally the water polo guy pulled back and dressed thanking guy #1, but not me.

Guy 1 said, "he's here to welcome all athletes this week. contact him and he'll do anything you want - won't you fag?". I looked at the new guy and said 'anything you want'.

He nodded and left.

My original visitor pulled me back to the bed. My ass was still on the floor and my head tilted back onto the bed. He straddled my torso and held my throat tight.

I know he could have really choked me like that with little recourse from me, but I trusted him enough.

Instead he let go and went through my pockets and took my phone. Came back...and inserted his cock into my throat.

It only took a few more minutes, but then he finally made a little noise as his cock erupted into my mouth. This sperm was thick and plentiful. At the angle he had me, the spooge hit the roof of my mouth and congregated right behind the head of his dick....trapped almost.

No worries, I swallowed all of it. I tried to milk more out, but unlike most guys who has a drop or two left when you squeeze the shaft, this man was dry. I had gotten it all on the first take.

I dressed, he packed. He showed me to the door. One good palm across the cheek for good measure and I was out the door.

....but here is hoping that water polo guy (and his whole team) contact me.

Friday, August 08, 2014

Black Boned

It was supposed to be a blowjob.

The return of the hot-dicked black man was unexpected, though not unwelcomed. It had to be a blowjob because he gave me almost zero lead time. Not enough to prep for anything more than using my mouth.

I guess, if he'd been on time or accurate as to when he would arrive, I'd have had time. When he was almost 40 minutes late, I had pretty much given up. Still that additional time would have give me a chance to......you know, clean out if needed. But our conversation was about getting head only. Him getting, that is. Me giving.

Unfortunately, by the time he did finally arrive, it impeded on a work call I had to take and told him that we'd have to be quick.

He dropped his pants. I dropped to my knees.

Actually, before I dropped there, I played with his meaty cock. It's bigger soft then most men when they are hard. It is thick. It has heft. I'd take it in one hand and let it drop into the other palm. And it would do so with a smack....at least for awhile.

After a few times, it started stiffening and didn't drop as much, since it was on the rise.

And that is when I went to my knees.

It had been a long time, so I had forgotten how big it gets. He says 9"....and it is close for sure, but it is the girth that throws me. I want so badly to get it all down my throat, but as skilled as I am (or think I am), that will be a tough tough one.

I was loving sucking him but never get the sense he enjoys it, other than his hard cock. He is so quiet in his way, that I get no reaction at all - good or bad. But he doesn't pull away or leave, so I'm taking it as a win.

I was sucking him for about 10 minutes when he told me to stand up. I did and he bent me over the desk.

I started to tell him I wasn't prepared for that but it was basically too late. He pushed 3 fat inches into my ass and then kept going, albeit a little slower.  No poppers (I'm trying to wean myself off those), not that I had any handy anyways. Or lube - other than his and my spit.

Breathing is the trick, boys. More than poppers, more than being prepped mentally. It's all about the breathing.

"This is the only way it's going to happen with our short time" and that was all he said. Again, no words, no grunts, groans or moans. He went back to silent running.

Pumping me into the desk. Pumping his shaft into my hole. It went on for only less than 10 minutes. He did have a big exhale and I knew he was coming. Besides the fact that I could feel it.

In two minutes, he was cleaned off, pants on and out the door.

...until next time, that is.

But I'm not sure that was a blowjob.   :-)

Monday, August 04, 2014

Piss & Moan

"Open your mouth, but don't suck".  Those were his first words to me.

I returned to the house where 'FAG' was scrawled on my cock. The house of nudists. Three gay, one straight - somehow living in harmony.

This time, I knew I wouldn't be in the house, but on the front porch - in broad daylight. The set-up is deceiving. From the porch, it looks like everyone can see everything. Even from the street it looks that way, until you've been on the porch and in retrospect so much is not visible you could do many things out there.

Still, I was ordered to strip at the door - outside - where someone passing by might get a quick glimpse of me, but that is it. Timing would have to be just right for that, let alone looking in my very specific direction.

He was in a light robe, sitting at a table with a pitcher of water, his glass and laptop, working outside on a sunny day. And he needed head.

I was stripped, on my knees on the cement, with my mouth open and not sucking. I kind of knew what was going to happen.

The piss came slowly at first and I thought to myself, "I can do this".  But that's the problem: I thought. I thought too much about the act. About what is going on. About what "it" is.

I don't get it. I am happy - no, elated - to drink a man's scum and to lick his ass, but I have a hang-up about piss?

While clearly not a connoisseur, I knew enough that he had been drinking water enough of the day that there wasn't tons of taste to it, and that it was probably running very clear with little yellow in the stream.

I will pride myself on that I got a full mouthful and a gulp and another mouthful before I non-verbally communicated that I was at my limit. Not that we had ever really talked about me taking (or not taking) his piss. He respected my wishes and discontinued the act.

He offered me a glass of water several times, with me declining each time. If I couldn't take the entire piss-load, I wanted him to know I wasn't washing his taste out too. I wanted to be respectful as well. And like in that last post where he said he wanted to push my limits, this was another step.

He went inside to finish dumping his bladder in the traditional way (at least I assumed it was that way) and he came back out, robe still open, me still on my knees. Ready to serve.

And like last time, I did.

Is it bragging if it's true?  I mean, I did an exceptional job with my mouth. Part to make him feel good. Part to make him eventually get off. Part to make-up for the fact that I fear I failed in not taking all his piss. And even though I know I couldn't be seen, I was hyper-excited to be doing this outdoors.

I could tell by his level of engagement and the stiffness of his cock that I was doing all the right things for him. I was sucking, and edging him. I wanted to build up that load. I wanted to make him really want to cum. Sure, he always had the ability to shoot when he wanted, but I had to get him to a place where he was past the point of rescue and total lust took over.

It was about then I heard the front door open and close. I knew enough not to look up and kept working on the cock in front of me. Clearly it was one of his roommates and I was being talked about - like how good of a job I was doing and how he could use me anytime he wanted......and insinuated that it could be now.  I heard the word "thanks", but didn't hear the rest. The door opened and closed again without me ever seeing the gent.

My feeder told me before that the two gay nudists will use his cocksuckers, but the straight one only uses them as urinals. Now to me, that just sounded a little odd. Not just that a straight dude would live with three gay nude dudes, but that of all the 'sex' acts, that a straight guy would be less into getting head than pissing in a guy's mouth.

To each his own, I guess.

I was pushed off the cock for the guy to show me his iPhone. On it he had a spreadsheet of eight cocksuckers who were servicing him. Each with a number of times the eater had serviced him. I was tied in 4th place, including that current blowjob. In theory, it wouldn't take much to put me at number one (I'd have to get up to 9 head-jobs in), but coordinating our schedules is more difficult than I'd like. So it might take me a while.

I probably stepped over a line when saying, 'well that rates quantity, not quality....', figuring I might have the upper hand there.  It was then he pulled out his pen, again, and wrote 'FAG', on my cock...again.

....and then I went back to sucking.

When he did cum, he shot a lot and of course I took it. I took it without an issue, unlike his piss. I happily and greedily swallowed it all. Is that weird?

I was satisfied. He was satisfied. He said I would be back.

Here's hoping I am. Soon.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014


Have you ever fucked a twin?

I don't mean one of two siblings - fraternal or identical. I mean, more someone who looks like you - though not exactly a doppelganger.

He was my height. He shaved his head. He had a beard. A biggish nose and a decent body. He even had a nice cock, though honestly, mine was nicer - if I say so myself.

He was in town. He claims to be a top, but was in the mood for getting fucked - and though he never fucks skin to skin, that was also his mood.

He was at a downtown hotel. I was in a mood, and I thought, why not. Of course, deep down, I was hoping I'd get him to change his mind and be the one to fuck me.

The guy provided me his room number and said his door would be unlocked. In reality, he left a piece of paper in the door so it couldn't lock. The lights were dimmed, but not off, the blinds drawn even at 3p. He was face down, ass up.

One difference between the two of us was his mostly hairless ass. I dove into it like a starving man.

It was a fucking great ass to eat. I mean, I love doing that deed anyways, but something about the buns, the crack and the hole just drove me wild. I did all my usual trick of licking, kissing, tonguing and munching inside and out. He truly appreciated the attention - almost like no one has taken care of him like that before. Though that seems hard to believe.

He was good at dirty talk too - which is a huge plus for me. He ever told me about the first time he got fucked, which was too close to my own story. But he mentioned how the guy clasped a hand over his mouth while he fucked him to keep the noise down.  Smart man.

After the ass eating, it was time to fuck. Me to fuck him, that is. I knew early on there would be no swaying this guy to take me.

He wanted face to face and I was ok with that.

Like eating it, sliding into him was determination that he had a nice hole. But while he claims to rarely get fucked, I bottomed out all too easily. His hole wrapped my shaft nicely, but not tightly. Velvet to skin.

Granted, I'm a little on the big side, and thick - so when I did bottom out, I gave a little extra shove to see if there wasn't a way to get a quarter-inch deeper. I did, and his eye shot open. But the words, 'stop', 'don't', 'slower', never passed his lips.

I'm not sure I would have cared if they did. But they didn't.

So, I fucked. I fucked hard. Like I said - I was in a mood.

I liked seeing his face as I penetrated him. I wondered if that was what I looked like when, oh so many guys, fucked my ass. It was that fine line of pleasure / pain / need / want / stop / don't stop.

Unlike the other guys I've fucked this year, this wasn't over in a few minutes. Maybe I was turned on by fucking myself, I don't know. But I stayed hard, I paced myself and a few times, even pulled out.

I got on my back and lay there, spread eagled, and made him lick my dick, clean himself off of me and then lick my nuts and ass.  Then I had him sit on me and ride.

This was harder for me to control and I wasn't liking it, as much as I like when I'm riding in the saddle. I pushed him off and it was time for him to get back to the position I found him in - face down; ass up.

He was all too accommodating.

I plowed him from behind, fucking him as hard as I could without getting too close to the edge. I was wanting this to last. I mean, I put an hour on the meter, I wanted it to get my $0.75 worth!

That rough fucking without going over the edge, at least for a seldom top such as myself, is a delicate balance. It's why I usually go over the edge 4-5 minutes into my fucks.

But I rode him for a good 15 minutes in this position. I'd hear noises being muffled by the bed, none of them actually words. Nor was he struggling to get away.

We both wanted face to face for the end. I pulled out and flipped him over, pushed his legs back and re-entered.....with ease, I might add.

This time, there wasn't much tease and control. I was going for it. I had 10 days of spunk backed up in my nuts and I wasn't going to waste it. So I pounded. I've learned a thing or two and I pounded.

As I got closer, I did what this first guy did to him. I took my hand and clasped it over his mouth. Deep down, I think he told me that story for a reason, and I took the parts needed for this encounter and incorporated them.

It's not like he was making much noise - nothing to alert the housekeeping staff in the hall, but I didn't cover it for that. It was to take him back. To relive the past while taking the present.

And I came. After about 45 minutes of fucking (a record for me), I shot a huge huge huge fucking load. He never protested. He never asked me not to, so he got it.

And then I got on my way. I made it back to the meter with three minutes to spare.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Flip Fuck

It seems that gloryhole I went to a few times goes both ways.

The owner of the hole invited me over to fuck him again. I wavered, since I wasn't sure that was what I wanted to do, but my cock got the better of me.

I opened the door and walked up the steps as it started to pour outside. Good timing. With no pretense, I dropped my shorts and stripped off my shirt too. All that remained were my cross-training shoes and the footies that were on my feet.

He wasn't waiting for me, but I just presented my cock through the hole and waited. It didn't take that long before I felt a wet, warm mouth envelop my shaft, which was only a semi-chub by that time.

The guy has a good mouth, even though if he is so heavy of a smoker, you can smell his breath from behind a door through a gloryhole. It's not all the pleasant. Still, he's an expert cocksucker. He has not issues deep-throating me and keeping me lodged down there for quite a bit of time.

He licked and sucked my nuts too.  I love having my sac lightly licked. Sometimes it is better than the cock. But the feeling never stays. The more they work on it, the less sensation it holds. Why is that?

"Let me lick your ass", says he.  Who am I to argue?

I turn around and present my ass to the hole. It's a little hard to balance and the opposite wall is just out of reach to use my hands easily. He's ok at the task, but I won't go on record to say he's going to win any awards at knowing how to successfully eat mancunt from a hole in a door.

He took a breather as I tried to reposition myself for more stability and that's when I felt it. The head of his cock going right into me.

No asking. No permission. No knowledge of if I did this kind of thing or if I was prepared - on any level.

It was hard to feign being new to this, as I allowed my ass to open up and take the first 4" of his thick 7" dick.  Soon, he was POUNDING his body weight against that door he put up. If his downstairs neighbors were home, there was no hiding what was going on at the upper level. I didn't really give a fuck what they'd think anyway.

If I had a hard time getting balance for an ass eating, imagine how hard it was to really accept his thrusts. But I did.

Twice he pulled out - possibly to give me a chance to extricate myself from the situation, but I didn't and both other times, he went back in with abandon. He muttered something about taking a long time to cum. I said I didn't care.

It's all relative anyways. It took him about 15 minutes to cum. It's a more than reasonable amount of time, but I've had it go much longer.  With a grunt and groan, he unloaded up my hole. Again, no asking. Just presuming. But let's be honest, I was at a fucking home gloryhole with my ass up to the opening taking a stranger's cock. Was there really a need to ask?

I was sweating. He must have been too.

But like a champ he pulled out, turned around and took my dick. I lasted a very short time. 4, maybe 5 minutes and blew up his ass.

No talking after. I pulled up my pants and walked out the door.

Friday, July 18, 2014


Well I had a first a week or so ago.

I gave head on a live streaming session. I'd say it was interesting, but I'm not sure it was much different than giving head without a camera.

I was feeling like an exhibitionist and had been viewing some guys whore themselves out for tokens and amazon gift cards at Chaurbate.

Seriously, guys cam themselves, mostly just jacking off, in return viewers give them "tokens". I honestly don't know what what a token is worth or what can do with it.

Some of the guys have these fucking sob stories about being in debt after getting their truck stolen and losing their jobs....blah blah blah. And of course, like a heroin dealer giving out a free sample before you pay for more, these guys will tease you with a look, but not jack until they get X amount of tokens. And many of them do have an amazon wish list that they want people to buy shit for them - like $3000 computers.

Bitch, it's streamed jacking off, not a weekend in Cabo.

And some of these guys are slick. Not just looking, but in they've made it their primary source of income. They have the patter down, the tease, the responses. I love that in their profiles, all the best looking ones say they're into women.

Uh-huh. You're into women, but shoving a dildo or vibrator up your ass for a roomful of men to see? And you're taking it with ease?  ....and that's because so many straight guys are so into anal play?

I'd love to know what kind of shut-ins are the ones giving 100s of tokens per day to these guys. I'm guessing they're a sad lot.

I will say, and to be fair, there are a number of guys who don't have wish lists and do not accept tokens. They are there to give a show, or at least to show off. That's all I was looking to do.

A quick CL ad later, I had a few responses, but only one seemed legit and oddly enough he was three minutes away working on a house.

Yes, he was a 28 year old laborer with a 7.5 - 8" dick.

I mean, fuck, that's perfect for anytime, let alone for doing a first streaming session (and so far, only streaming session, I might add).

So I had my session opened up before he arrived. With little activity, I tried to tell what few viewers I had what would be going on. But since most viewers don't tune in until they see something going on, or see someone interesting, on the main screen, I knew I wouldn't have many - and I had no long-time followers at this point who would know when I signed on.

This guy was into it. Silent, but not skittish.

Soft to start, he grew quickly and so did my viewer list.

I think I only got up to 23 viewers, but they got a good 8-10 minute show. They seemed to like it. I seemed to like it.

The guy pulled out near the end and jacked off on my out-stretched tongue, as he wanted to give the show to the viewers. Way to commit.  Naturally, much of the big load didn't go into my mouth - initially - and one big gob hit me in the eye.

Fuck that hurts. It's like someone punched me there for hours. Cum: so great, so dangerous.

I'm not much of a jacker-offer, so I don't suspect I'll have any of those shows. And I don't suspect many guys will be into the exhibitionism of it all. But if they are, I'm game. There's just no way to give many people a good heads-up (no pun intended) time to log on and watch.

I'm also not finding a way to screen-capture the show, but if there is, that could be fun for other reasons.

Monday, July 14, 2014


I don't think I'm unlike many other American cocksuckers.  Well - in certain ways I am, but I'm talking about in terms of ratio of cut to uncut dicks one might service.

For as many - and yes, there have been many - that I have taken care of, a surprisingly few have been uncircumcised. Mind you, percentage-wise. To the normal guy, it's still a LOT of cocks.

I could blame it on my religion, but I won't. It's not like I'm sucking tons of Jewish men. Being cut is just more the norm in the U.S. I think.

Still, to a degree, the uncut cock intrigues me and repels me. The same could be said in terms of a cut one, but conversely, the percentage is higher with uncut.

In my mind, I have my own perfect uncut cock. Big. Meaty. Just enough skin to stretch over most of the head when it is erect but easy to peel back with your fingers or even your tongue.

Those are u/c porn cocks. They rarely appear in real life.

So not long ago, I had a guy come over. Medium build, but confident. Big-assed pick-up truck carrying him where he needed to go.

He dropped his pants and for as many cocks as I've seen in my life (again, that is a LOT), this one was new.

6.5" and uncut. So uncut that I wasn't sure there was an opening.

He was 80% erect when he freed it, but the skin was all the way over the head. Tight, over his head. There was the smallest of openings. At the time I thought to myself, how can he even piss out of that?

Of course, I figured, once we got going, the skin would retract, exposing a shiny slick head - the way foreskins somehow make those heads like that, more so than ones exposed to the daily elements.

But the skin did not retract. If anything, it became tighter, the hole became smaller. It wasn't even my dick, and I was worried for him.

Yet here he was, a man of 40 years or so of age. This can't be his first erection or his first blowjob, right? He made it this far without the skin breaking like a worn rubber band.

Honestly, I was a little disgusted. I just couldn't fathom this as being physically appealing or stimulating to him, but he seemed to like what I was doing. In the back of my mind, I kept wondering about the ending of this session.  How would this even happen? The skin didn't give a millimeter and the opening even looked smaller.

Soon enough I'd find out. He made all the warnings of impending cumming.

I can't say if it was because of his cock or not, but his cum was like liquid.  Yes, I know cum IS liquid. I mean very little heft to it. Cum is usually heavier than, say, water. But this was like something that would flow out of a pitcher.

It was plentiful and tasted good.

I'm not sure what was with the guy, but he couldn't get out of there fast enough. Lord knows what I did to freak him out. Or maybe it was just post-orgasm guilt.

Friday, July 11, 2014


Months ago I told you of my photo shoot for a nudist magazine. The entire piece could have been better, but I got a note here and there from readers who reached out. I suppose it is like hearing your voice on a tape recorder - you're never going to be thrilled.

Since then, the photographer / publisher has texted me on and off. At the shoot, he kind of figured out what kind of guy I am and has played upon that. He's the opposite of a sub-like cocksucker. He's more of a dom-like feeder. And not so much dom "like" but pretty much dom.

He has slaves, faggots and cocksuckers who answer to him. Even via text, I could tell he was testing me on how far I might go with him.

I've stated here before, I have sub tendencies (like you couldn't tell that from my entries), but I'm not a slave. I don't even know if I could be a full-on sub. My backbone is too rigid and I can be a horribly stubborn guy - not what a dom really likes - at least for any length of time.

Still he'd push me - via text. Wouldn't I do x, y or z for  him?  Most of the times it was yes, but with a caveat. Being owned isn't really my thing. And he kept coming around to chastity.

You've read here, I don't jack off much and I don't cum that often. I can go weeks or months without ejaculating. I know people think that is twisted, but it is not. It is also not meant to be used as some kind of self-inflicted torture either.

On my worst days, I cum a fuck of a lot. I've waited period in between where it is actually painful to cum when I choose to do so.

Anyways - chastity is not my thing. Yes, I'm selfish that when I do actually want to play with my cock, I want to be able to. Yes, I think about what TSA and the guys in the locker room would say. And yes, I don't like ever not having the key to unlock it - and it is possible that key would be hundreds or thousands of miles away. And considering I've seen this guy twice in seven months, getting the key would be next to impossible, even if he agreed.

Oh, and there is that other thing:  I've seen the guy twice in seven months. Nothing about us warrants me wanting to be chained to him. Texting is not the way. I don't know him enough to trust or distrust him. But I don't have any kind of relationship or physical / emotional investment for wanting this certain guy to cage me.

That said, he's still sexy as fuck and I know he wants to push my limits. I'm all about having my limits pushed.

Anyway time #2 was just the other day. A text. He was in town, he needed a blowjob before he took a nap. I was on my way.

As he is a nudist, I knew to shed all my clothing at the door way. I walked in to find him sitting on the couch in the living area. He pointed to the floor and I took off my glasses and knelt.

While I know I needed to see nothing, the transition from glasses to none make me fairly blind.

But down I went.

It's a great cock. About 7". Medium width at the head, gets much wider in the middle of the shaft and then tapers down near the base. I loved sucking it.

While his hand was on my head, it was more for balance or something. He didn't have to force me down or guide my actions - I was doing quite well on my own.

Since he was all about putting a cage on my cock, I certainly knew not to touch my own cock during this session. I do like stroking myself when I suck someone else - and not cumming - but I knew this time touching myself would not be tolerated. I kept my hands on the couch cushion on either side of his legs. But I was incredibly hard while I was working his cock.

Now and then, he would mutter the word, "FAG" as I blew him. He likes calling me a 'fag' even in text. And I'm not offended because, well, I am one.

At one point his phone buzzed and he reached for it. I had kind of seen it on the table next to the couch, but without my glasses, I really couldn't identify a thing. When he leaned back from the table he had something else I had not seen - an indelible magic marker. A Sharpie.

He leaned down, grabbed my hard dick, and said, "since you won't be caged......"  and then did this.

I guess I could have stopped him after the first or second letter, but I didn't. I actually thanked him after he finished.

I'll admit I was conflicted about this. Not for reasons any of you would think or understand. It came down to that if anyone were to mark me this way - it wouldn't have been him. There was a weird palpable sense of loss or disloyalty for having an almost stranger mark me so knowingly.

And then I went back to sucking. He went back to muttering 'FAG' to me...or about me.

I used my lips, my tongue, my throat - all the standards. I did not use my hands.

I actually try never to use my hands, as that is just jacking off. But in reality, some guys ask for, or eventually need, that assistance. I get the load, but I'm not always proud of how I achieve that goal. But this time, the hands never left the sofa.

He claims to have cum two days ago, but it was a huge huge huge load. Most guys don't cum that much. Before I swallowed, I took his hand to my throat, so he could feel me gulp his jizz. Honestly, I do that a lot to guys, but I would love to know how many of them take it to their normal feeder practice.

He had a wicked smile on his face upon me finishing and milking out every drop. He mentioned the no hands feat. He says he normally has to have a guy help him along - and I told him my feelings on that, but he reassured me that at some point I would use my hands on him.

I'm hoping to prove him wrong.

He did compliment me on my 'exceptional' talent.

I'm hoping for another try.

Tuesday, July 08, 2014


He's a brick...........house.  He's mighty mighty, just lettin' it all hang out.....

Sorry, but that's what came to mind. He answered my ad and I went to him. 'Use My Mouth' was the ad headline.

6'3" (he seemed taller) 225. Wide and solid. 8.5".  A true 8.5".  He just failed to mention that it was at least 5.5" around.

Now, he never gave his race, but based on his dick size and his neighborhood (yes, I'm stereotyping), it was fairly safe to say he was black. And he was. Dark as the night.  He took up the entire doorway as I approached. I didn't even notice at first that he had no pants or underwear on. Just a t-shirt, standing at the front door for possibly anyone to see.

I suppose he was proud of what he was showing. He should have been. It was fucking beautiful.

I wasn't there to give decorating tips, it was just odd, all the walls had pics of various sizes of one woman - one I'm assuming was his mother. I'm talking dozens of pictures of 3x5 to poster size. It was a little odd.

He led me to a room that had a spread out sleeping blanket. I'm not sure if this is how he slept or it was just his sex room. Right now, it was a sex room.

Personally, I'd have liked him to stand to show me that huge cock while I was kneeling, but there was no way I was going to direct this guy to do anything. You could tell he did as he pleased, so why fuck around with that.

He got on the floor, on his back, resting his head and I went down to my knees and then down on him.

Fuck that dick grew. It was big when flaccid, but more than filled my mouth. I'm not ashamed to say I couldn't get it all in my mouth. I made a valiant effort but as he became wider at the base it became impossible to not have my teeth get in the way.

Still, with his fidgeting and moaning, he seemed to be liking what I was doing. I'd lightly stroke his ball sac while I really worked on that massive rod. It was so dark, you could easily see where I couldn't get to with the spit line being very defined.

I can't say it was the most comfortable way to do suck, but his cock, his rules.

He was close and I could tell.  He told me to get on my knees and spread my ass. He said he wanted to cum on my hole.

I was ok with this because we hadn't talked about getting fucked.  I wasn't prepared for it from a hygiene perspective and I wasn't prepared for it from a size one as well. But I could certainly handle his load being squirted on my asshole.

Personally, I think we stopped the sucking too soon and he had to jack longer than it seemed, since he was in such a rush for me to get on my knees. But there I was, my hands grasping each cheek and pulling them part for him to see and have a good target of.

He was moaning and then I felt it. Not the white hot temp of his load. I felt the head of his cock at my hole and then another two inches.

My face sunk further into the sleeping bag on the floor as he pushed into me and then moaned, as that now white hot load was filling my ass. Granted it was not horribly deep up there, but it was up there.

He left and threw me a towel, but I was already putting on my shorts.

He was at the front door, putting on his t-shirt, pants still off, dick for all to see, as he opened it for me to leave.

Thursday, July 03, 2014


He pounded me the way he normally does. Or eventually does.

He is the closest thing I have to a regular fuck - though by anyone's standards it is not super regular. But we never miss a beat once we are together.

The man has skills with his dick. And his hips, I guess. And definitely his mind. Dirty. Dirty. Dirty. Yet sweet too. It's a good combo.

Weeks back, before he was to leave on a trip, I found myself in....well, on....his bed.

We do have a routine. A sequence of positions we go through. Usually in order, but not always. This is not a complaint.

Normally, to start, I'm on my knees with my ass at the edge of the bed and him standing behind me. Is it slutty, or hot, that I give no resistance to him entering me and taking a matter of seconds to bottom out? Is it slutty, or hot, that I push back on him, trying to meet him half way?

His cock fits perfectly into my hole. Yeah - one could say that eventually all cocks fit in, but this is the right size for the 'let's just get to it' fuck. And we do just get to it.

At points in the session, I'm on my side, with a leg up a little so he has deep access. We also have the opportunity to kiss at this point. Normally, that is not a big thing for me, but for whatever reason, with him it is. I won't say it's romantic, but there is an intimacy and intensity to it. And even a bit of dirtiness.

Other times I will ride him while he lays back. I like this, but I have less control over my own impending orgasm. If I am to cum at all during the session, this is one of the ways we do this.

At some point, there is always the flat on the belly approach, him on my back - thrusting into me, hard, deliberate and steady.  For leverage, his arms will go under my pits and pull me back a bit. It might be a control thing. I think it's just a way to drive deeper.

This last time, that last position was a big one. We used that a lot. I knew then I wasn't going to be riding him to get off. This was his time to shoot.

With his weight on top of me and the grasp of my arms, I wasn't going anywhere - not that I intended to. He was fucking for a finish.

I was happy for him to do that. Nothing pleases me, or mentally gets me off, more than a guy who becomes a selfish but skilled top.

He drove into me over and over. No verbal warning, but I could feel him get hard as steel and the breath became a little more labored and the respirations a little more shallow. He was racing towards orgasm and going to make sure I got it all.

The guy plunged into me when he let loose, making sure his cock and seed were as deep in me as he could possibly get. I could feel the pulses, but not the warmth. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck as he re-established composure.

I love that he doesn't pull out. He leaves that dick up my ass. I milk it. I squeeze that shaft, not only making him shudder a bit, but getting out every last drop of sperm that I can.

I'm already looking forward to next time.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Getting Blown

Now, you all know I'm a Cocksucker.  Oh yes, it is upper-cased. It's a title. it's a lifestyle.

So not often am I actually on the receiving end of a blowjob. I was on a visit to a guy who has fucked me semi-regular over the last year or so (you've read about them here), but I was in a "not-so-fresh" feeling and while my mind was willing, my body was not.

It could have, but well.......you know.

The get together started out with me sucking him. I mean, that seemed the right thing to do. You've seen my unofficial / official title: Cocksucker.

So it's a little fuzzy on how it came to be that he ended up sucking me. I know he is versatile, but for the most part we've never played on that. I've had my role, he's had his. ...and it's worked just fine.

When guys say they are versatile, they usually have one good skill and play off that and do 'the other stuff' when they have to. I'm ok, at best, at fucking. I like to think I'm great at getting fucked or taking it down my throat. But I'd have a hard time calling myself versatile - though recent events might contradict that.

But this guy had a great mouth. I already knew he could throw an awesome fuck, but who knew he'd have such good oral skills?

Mind you, I was worked up anyways, but seeing him sink lower onto my long, fat shaft made me horny.

I told him he should probably stop what he was doing. It was feeling good and it wouldn't take that much to get me off. I teased him and told him he probably couldn't handle it anyways.

He has seen me shoot when he fucks me and it is safe to say he is impressed with the volume of cum I can displace from my nuts. Hell, I am impressed - and I'm not boasting.  Well...........not much.

I baited him a bit, saying there is no way he could swallow that big of a load. He took the challenge. He went back to his "work".  I let him.

He knew I was getting near, mostly because I told him so. He didn't stop.  ...and now I couldn't.

I told him to stop moving. Not because I wanted to hold off, but because I need a guy to be still while I pump my cream into his mouth and throat. He was about one-third of the way down on me when I let loose.  And I LET loose.

There is no way or remembering last time I had gotten off, but it was safe to say 7-10 days. For a bit he was taking it like a champ. But I would say two-thirds of the way into full release, I saw a slight panic in his eyes. I'm not sure anyone else would have picked up on it, but I know him well....or well enough.

The moment of panic was fleeting, but there.

Unlike most guys, he didn't gag or cough. Nor did he pull off.  He took every. single. drop.

He tried to kiss me afterward, I jokingly resisted, saying that I knew where his filthy mouth had been.

Thursday, June 26, 2014


I'm not saying "Tony" was my first Cuban cock, but I can't say he wasn't.

Sure I've played with many a Hispanic before but I never truly asked for their heritage. Nor did I ask for Tony's. He just told me in a message before hooking-up.

28, 6'1", 225, 6.5" thick and uncut Cuban cock.

225 for that height could be pushing the envelope of being heavy, but he said he was muscular. I'm not so sure that was true. He's a big boy. Solid, but it wouldn't take that much for him to be a candidate for Type II diabetes.

He was working - doing house visits for his work and used the time to stop by to unzip and show me this.

The pic doesn't really do him justice. Or his dick, I suppose.  It was a truly thick cock.

As his pants and then underwear fell to the floor, his chub was mostly covered in skin. You know how those Hispanic men keep their foreskin. There was plenty of it, but not in a bad way. Yes, sometimes there can be too much hanging skin.  This was more than enough and it clung to the side of the shaft and over.

It didn't take long to peel back, with a little mouth manipulation. His cock grew. And widened. And widened. While I won't go so far to say it filled my mouth, the orifice was starting to fill up. He truly was majorly thick.

He let me go at my own pace, mentioning during the session how he had 'a girl' and I was only the third guy who'd ever gone down on him, none of the other two swallowed.

I'm not sure if this was just passing information or a challenge. To be fair, he didn't know me or what I like (or not) to do. Somewhere in our exchange I did say I would take every drop - so I'm assuming he understood it meant I would gulp down his jizz.

Never once did he try to use his hips to pump my face. He could have - I wouldn't have stopped him, but he just stood still letting an expert do his job.

I'm guessing it was about a 10 minute session when he told me he was close. I didn't stop. I didn't slow down. He did not seem to want to stop me or let the blowjob last longer. I was on a schedule....and I know he was.

The man shot a fucking load.  A HUGE fucking load. Jet after jet. Throb after throb. The sperm just kept coming. I kept swallowing and while I could keep up, I could see a man with lesser experience struggle with the volume of spunk.

He didn't know what to do with the compliment I gave him on the vast amount he had knocked out.

He has as way to get a hold of me if he's back in the area. He's not the best looker, but with a load like that, I'd get on my knees any time.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Hairy Man Fuck

I know I don't top much - and you know it too.  So it "worries" me a little that this is my 3rd or 4th time I fucked a guy this year!

Clearly, it is out of the norm, but I do what I do. It gives you something new to read about anyways.

Actually, this happened weeks ago, I'm just getting around to writing about it now.

He was visiting from Washington state. A hairy handsome man I wanted so badly to bone me. I wasn't looking for the other way around. That is why I went to down to his hotel.

Well...and because he looked like this.

Well, he had a full beard, close cropped head of hair. Furry body. Dirty mind. And looked good in a suit - or so the picture he sent me said. He was also handsome as fuck. 

He gave me his room number and I knocked. He answered, though he was a little shorter than I expected. I expected a more imposing man, but he was a good 5" shorter than my 6'2" frame. 

He (I never got a name) went right for me. Pawing at my chest and my crotch, all the while trying to kiss me. With just a t-shirt, shorts and sandals on, I was naked in a few seconds

It was then he told me he is usually a top but was in the mood to only bottom. I felt duped, as I'm thinking he knew this from the get-go. I'm not big on guy who deceive just to get someone in the door. I've walked out on those scenes before. 

But fuck, he was hot. Nice face, nice body, great cock and yes, a great ass. 

He sucked me. I sucked him.

All of the sudden, he flipped me on my back with his hard 8" right at my hole. I hoped. I prayed. I wished. The ferocity in his eyes made me think I might get fucked and it would be a merciless one. But he backed off.

Fuck, I thought.  And not in that good way.

I could not deny that my cock was like steel.  I made him scoot up over my chest and then I went to town on his ass with my mouth. He moaned like a little bitch. They all do. I have a great tongue.

Most of the guys I do that to rarely get rimmed. I'm guessing this was not one of those guys. He claimed to be almost all top, with just some moments of bottoming. I think it was probably more the other way around.

I wanted to do this face to face. The few fucks I have had were from behind or through a gloryhole. No faces. He was too handsome not to see.

It was he who denounced condoms. I didn't need to be told or asked twice. I didn't have one. Nor did he. I wasn't walking out at this point. It was on.

I have a big dick. Bigger and thicker than his. I slid in with no problem. Very little resistance. "Mostly top", my ass.

But I could see the longing in his eyes and I kept sinking in. Not fast, but not slow. Steady and consistent. He didn't ask me to stop of slow down. I'm not sure I would have at that point, had he. If it were my ass being fucked I would have been in a giving mood - but now that I was doing the fucking, I was not really willing to take requests. Tops over the years have taught me well.

His ass was mine.

He talked about my cock. I talked about my cock........and his ass. He was secondary now. Like I said, I learned through my years.

The words that we exchanged were filthy, even vile. There was no taking them back, not that either of use seemingly wanted to. His poor fucking hotel neighbors and the housekeeping staff that was in the hall. I didn't care - I wasn't staying there.....nor was my name on the registry.

Maybe it was the angle. Maybe it was the man. Maybe it was "experience" I've gotten this year. I was not so quick to cum. My other fucks probably lasted 5-10 minutes. This one was closer to 20. He was asking me to cum, but again, I wasn't taking requests. And I can't cum on command. I'm not that kind of guy.

Fucking for me is mostly mental. Getting it up. Keeping it there. And going over the edge.

For the most part, I stayed hard. Very hard. I had a moment or two, I won't lie. The last thing I wanted was to show weakness to this guy. Not now. I was following through.

And I did. I didn't bother to tell him it was a two week load until it was spewing into his guts. He'd be losing my babies for the next day or so.

He'd remember this trip for a while, though I doubt I would be his last before he checked out the next morning.

Monday, June 16, 2014

Dry Spell - Broken

I think you all know that I don't necessarily post things in the order they happen. At least not always.

I still have a few untold tales sitting out there which I have to commit to blog form, but I'll get there. Still, even with that, I've been experiencing somewhat of a dry spell. Some of it self-imposed, some of it not.

BikeGuy finally got his groove back on a bit today. Yes, today. Real time today. As in just a few minutes ago. I almost never blog this soon after an event.

This morning I got out of my sex funk (no, not the smelly musk kind) and wanted to get a load. The problem is, the forces sometimes work against you. Everyone on-line today was looking to take and not give. I hate being in a mostly bottom-town.

As it was getting mid-afternoon, I was ready to give up for the day, as I have evening plans. But fate had another agenda.

Text messaging, home jizz delivery service.  You gotta love that.

I had blown the guy over the holidays. He is a blog reader, so clearly had the advantage on me. He knows my likes, dislikes and weaknesses.  And as you see, was staying two streets over.  For the fucking week.

He was over in a matter of minutes. Honestly, from first contact to in the door was less than 10 minutes. THAT is how it should work.

This was no frills. We never got more than 6' inside the door. "Get on your knees", he commanded - and I did.

Like last time, I sucked. I was so in the mood for this. He seemed to have loved it, especially when I used my tongue. Lots of guys use their tongue between sucking, not enough while they are sucking and even less use it effectively.

I don't have the hard data on that, but going by what the feeders tell me, I'm pretty confident in my assumptions.

Reading back through the last blog entry with him, I didn't realize we kissed last time. There was none of that this time. While I would have, he seemed like a man with a mission. I can appreciate that. And his mission was to shoot his load and have me swallow it.

I sucked. I used my tongue. I lightly felt his full nuts. He said he hadn't been sucked in 5 days, but didn't say how big his load was. I'm guessing he probably manipulated a load or two out by hand since that last suck job.  I could be wrong.

I worked that dick as good as I could. He made a comment that I might be out of practice, considering I hadn't sucked dick in a little while. But it's like riding a bicycle - just warmer and wetter. He also called me "faggot" and "cocksucker" and "cum dump".  I take that with pride, not shame.

I went back to sucking and went to feel his nuts, which were considerably tighter. I could hear it in his breath too. This wasn't going to last long. The man was on the edge and then those words escaped his mouth.  "Take it!!!"

And I did. I felt cum hitting my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I won't say it completely filled my mouth, but it was a good amount.

Since I didn't have time to remember all the nuances of our last encounter, I forgot about his post-ejaculation sensitivity. With no warning, while still cumming, he pulled out. I was smart enough and quick enough to cup my hands and catch the last few shots there - and then licked the palms of my hand clean.

He got some on his hand as well and fed them to me. So technically, I did get every drop, just not the way I expected.

He is here for the rest of the week and it's only Monday.  I am hoping for a repeat visit. Or visits.

Friday, June 06, 2014

Pain & Piss

He wanted to fuck.  That's cool.  I wanted to be fucked.

He was a little stocky, but not fat. Balding, but who cares?  His dick was a solid 7" and cut.

I mention the cut part because of all the cocks I have seen - and yes, that has been a few! - I've never seen such a change in pigment at the circumcision mark.

The man (I didn't get a name) did not appear to be mixed race. His skin was as pink as mine, but below the area he was cut, it was very very brown. Yet the top part of his shaft and his head was white white white.  Go figure.

While we were "chatting" before meeting, he slipped in something about watersports. I said I had tried it and it all seemed ok. I didn't say anything about wanting to learn more about them, but I'm not a huge participant in the activity.

Once in his apartment, he said, "strip and get in the tub".   ...and I did.

I got in the tub and knelt.

He came in and balanced himself standing on either edge or the tub. And he must have been fucking hydrating all day. I know I've pissed this much, I but I can't tell you when. It just never fucking stopped.

He hit my face, the top of my head and then worked his way down:  neck, chest, arms, crotch and my thighs.

When he was finally done, he told me to rinse off and left the room. I did as instructed. I exited the bathroom to find him in his living room laying on the couch.

He told me to stand next to the couch while he looked me over.  He touched my legs, my cock and my balls.  Then he grabbed my balls and twisted. And kept twisting, every now and then looking up for a reaction.

I try not to say 'no' in these situations and to take it like a man. We never discussed this or a 'safe word', but I powered through it - at least this time. I got slight praise for how I came through the process.

I rubbed him a little - all over. I went down and licked his nuts. His request.  I sucked his cock with his guidance and moved back to his asshole on my own, but without any protest. He loved my tongue up his beefy ass.

He told me to sit up on the couch and I did. Out of nowhere (seemingly), he pulled out an already folded black bandanna. "Put this over your eyes".  I did. I double knotted it for good measure. I could seen nothing.

He took me and guided me back into a reclined position.

Somewhere hidden, at least to me, he took things out of a bag. He started to fool with my chest and it while I didn't say 'no', I expressed concern that he was going to do something to my nipples. With toys.

I mentioned I don't like clamps or the likes on my nipples and he immediately backed off.

I know what you're all thinking. I love having my tits played with and I do.  I don't like it extremely hard and I've had clamps on before. They're ok, but not great and the pain taking them off is just bad - at least for me.

Down near my junk, he did start doing things to me. Clamps, I'm assuming. I couldn't see. I knew enough not to ask. He didn't bother to tell.

Whatever it was went around my dick, maybe on it. On my balls. Below them too. And maybe onto my ass. I would later find out, the only thing he would admit to, is putting clamps on the lips of my asshole.

They did not hurt going on, but I could feel them. But soon, he went back to abusing my balls and my dick. With each twist, whatever he secured onto my skin began to set my crotch on fire from within and emanating out.

This went on for quite sometime. I might have grimaced (I know I did). I might have even said 'ouch', but I never told him to stop. I never told him 'no'. I'm not sure if that was to show him how much of a man I was, or to show myself.

"Take a deep breath and hold it".  I did.  "Now let it out".  I did.  And when I did he unhooked a clamp. We repeated this process over at least a half dozen times.

Honestly, I could not tell where on my body he was removing them. The burning was very diffused, not localized at all.

I do remember one of the last ones making my back arch up as I responded to the pain. Nothing came out of my mouth. He asked if I was alright and I gave an affirmative answer.

Still blindfolded, he helped me up and moved me over to another area, where he put me on my knees.  I could sense he was sitting in front of me and I was to go suck his dick. Like a homing radar, I found it in the first try.

We did that for a while. More ball-licking then more ass eating. Then more sucking.

Only then did he take off the blindfold.

"Sit on my cock".

There were two rubbers in reach of him, but he never looked at them and never made an attempt to snag one, let alone put it on. Nor did he ask.

His cock was wet with my spit. I wet my hole up with my own spit. But that and the angle wasn't working the way either of us wanted.

"Grab the lube over there", which was on top of a shelf. I slicked him up. I slicked me up.  I slowly jacked his cock, making him possibly harder than before, but I didn't want to manipulate his cock too much. I didn't want him close. Not this way.

I sat on the dick. It felt great. He told me to lean back as far as I could, which bent his cock in my confined hole. It felt better to him than it did to me, but isn't that the point?

I rode him and he fucked me for a few minutes - maybe 5.

He pulled out.  "Get back in the tub".

I did. I knelt. He straddled. He let go with another enormous amount of piss. It was at least as much as the first time.

Again. Head, face, chest, crotch and even my extended tongue. I wasn't fond of the heat more than the taste. I don't drink coffee even, can you tell?

"Show me your ass".  I did. I stood up, parted he my cheeks and he pissed on my asshole. As soon as he was done, he shoved his cock up my ass.

With my head against the tiles, he pounded me for almost 10 minutes.

With a roar, he came up my ass. I could feel him throb. If he came 1/10th of what he pissed, my guts would be flooded - and they were.

Eventually, but not immediately, he slipped out.

"On your knees".

Once again, I was down, he stood in the tub and pissed all over me once more.  Not as much as the first two times, but fuck, I was surprised he had anymore in him to begin with.

When he was done he held out his cock for me. I cleaned him off.

We both rinsed off and then changed.

He walked out with me, purposefully taking the stairs. He told me part way down he wanted me to feel what he had done to me.

I could still feel the twinges from the clamps and my twisted sac. He told me I'd be feeling it again tomorrow, and I did.

He said he'd invite me back. I'm still waiting.    ......and hoping.