Every once in awhile I circle back ‘round to the title of this blog. Addict. Sex, that is.
It is what I am. Nothing I am ashamed of. And completely self-diagnosed.
I don’t know all the background of addiction, but if made-for-TV-movies were to be believed, it seems that if it were drugs, alcohol, or an eating disorder, the signs and symptoms are all there, it is just that folks are really good at hiding these when things are under control (or they think they are).
But the underlying issue (if you want to call it that) is that usually their need takes precedent over their normal everyday life. In the right environment, it can still be controllable.
Take last Thursday.
I was going to a client site which is about a 3.5 hour drive – each way. Not content just to go to the site and back, I had to see if I could find sex on the way to and/or the way back. Though on-line services can be futile, imagine all the wasted hours of hoping someone decent would show up at a rest area or alleged cruising spot.
With the advent of manhunt and craigslist, as well as the smart phone, finding dick can be pretty sweet, though it seems a more clinical approach to doing it than hanging out in a dirty toilet for hours on end waiting to see who might show (um....I think I just turned myself on). For the traveling businessman, the new innovations aren’t a horrible thing.
So a few well placed ads in the few cities I was passing through along with some specific timetables and I was kind of good to go. I had a number of inquiries, but as you all know, those start to self-select as you weed through them. It left me with 3-4 viable candidates.
As I drove closer to this pass-through city, I was in contact with all. I knew I couldn’t do them all, but I eventually chose one over the other – and it might surprise you: someone who wanted my load, not someone to give me one. Oh – and it wasn’t to be sucked out of me either.
The pic he provided (which I was wanting to post, but it’s full face shot) seemed hottest of the bunch, which had something to do with it. But after meeting him he was just ok and something like Dorian Gray, his picture ended fitting his real life persona.
He was taller than I imagined. And tanner. With a lot more freckles. And a really small dick. But that last part didn’t matter to me, because the plan was to dick him.
Anyway, halfway through my actual business trip, I pulled off the highway and while on the phone got directions to his house. That set me back 15 minutes each way. Then there was the 30 minutes fuck. Great – already an hour added to my already long day, and I was going to be later to the client site than I wanted….but when the siren beckons, one must answer – no?
“Kevin” was a pretty good cocksucker and he pulled my dick out of my suit pants. Soon enough we were upstairs in the spare bedroom. Clearly the one room he used to “entertain”. I guess he didn’t want lube and sperm on his good 400 count Egyptian cotton sheets. I can’t really blame him – we’ve all done that before: tricks who are there to slum, not slumber.
I thought I could lessen my redress time by leaving my shirt and tie on, but that proved problematic as I was constantly in danger of getting lube on both of those items. I had to strip down. I made him leave his jockstrap on. I know guys like fucking me while I wear mine (they don’t call me BIKEguy for nothing ya know), so I thought I’d see if it was much of a turn on do it as a top.
I think this blog proves I am not much of a top, but I’m learning…or trying to. Kind of. But I’ve already surpassed this year the number of times I’ve fucked over the last like 10…and I’m still in the single digits. I’m getting better at it. I’ve decided to trust my instincts in how to do it and not worry as much about the mechanism.
We started out with Kevin on his back. It was ok to look at him while I pushed in, but for all his claim that it’d been ‘awhile’ since he got fucked, he had not resistance and no issue with me sinking right to the bottom. Hell, not even a groan. I’m more than nicely sized and I’m not even sure he knew I was in him.
But I knew. And it felt …..ok. I’d be lying if I said if felt great. It felt ok. I’ve been in asses that make you want to shoot almost right away because they are so tight. This was not one of those.
I varied the speed, the motion, the length of pull-out and push-in. I was in this for my own pleasure, not his. Isn’t that what a top does? Ok ok….before I get flack for that, for me, there is something to be said about one-sided sex. I find it can be really really hot.....even if I'm just the receptacle.
Eventually he got up on all fours and put his head to the pillow. I slathered more lube onto my bare dick and found an angle to get into him again. This time I decided to work it hard and achieve the goal we both had....giving him my load. I don't wear a watch, so I was only guestimating time I was behind for the actual job that pays me a check.
While I was planning on giving him my load, a few full pull-out then bottoming out motions got me there quicker than I had planned. Oh well. As I felt the inevitable start to happen, I was in complete pull-out mode. Luckily, this guy's hole was easy access and I got in an slid deep before the actual explosion.
Seven days of cum he got. He begged for it. I told him he was a fucking whore as I let my seed into him. I think he was ok with that. I was just going on what other guys would say to me as they did something similar.
I went and washed my dick clean (those hand towels in the guest rooms always look too nice to use - but what are you gonna do?) and started redressing.
As he stepped into the bathroom to do his clean-up....I let myself out the door without a word. I probably hit the highway ramp before he got out.
Rounding back to my intro - and I know I'm not the only one - but I always find it amazing what guys will do to get their nut (or to get one). I've done it all my sexual life.....placed myself in danger: of the law, of my employer, of boyfriends (mine or theirs), of wives.....whatever it takes.....just for sexual gratification.
....and I wouldn't change a thing.