WorkPlace BJ

So today I was coming back from a noon-time workout at the gym and walking back to the office.

Outside the office I caught sight of some guy who was having a cigarette and he caught sight of me. ...and you know how it is ........'that look'. The one where you just both know.

He was ok looking. Blond brush cut, slim not bad looking. He walked in the building ahead of me and made sure I had seen him and where he was going. I did. The guy walked a maze of hallways, some of which I had never been to.

I had definitely never been to the restroom he took me too. Out of the way, a partition that was between the urinal area and the actual door. So you could hear someone coming, though there would still be very little time to react if necessary.

We both went to the urinals and unzipped. We both hardened in an instant. But you'd also know this guy was a 110% cocksucker. ....and he wasn't worth going to my knees for - because of his so-so cock and I kind of need my job. I didn't give a shit about his job though.

He went to his knees and took my dick in his mouth. He was ok, but I could only smell his fucking cigarette breath and clothing. And his rancid cologne. Oh - and I think I've said before, the only thing worse than cigarettes are menthol cigarettes.

It didn't take long. I didn't give him an option not to take the load. My big fucking load. He wasn't about to risk getting it on me or his suit. He swallowed it all, like a good boy.

Then he got up to jack off at the urinal. I never looked back at him. I zipped up and walked out.

FuckBud FAIL

You all know I was hopeful. MORE than hopeful. Alas, it was not meant to be.

My would-be FuckBud is just that - would-be. We attempted. We got together, but it just didn't click. I should clarify - it did not click for me.

The guy called and I met him for "lunch". Or a matinee.....whatever you crazy kids are calling it these days. We went to his place during the noontime hour for a tryst. FAIL is kind of a strong word for it, but I can't imagine going back for seconds.

He wanted to kiss, which I can be ok with - but he was a bad kisser. I'm a good one, if I say so myself. It didn't help that I think I detected three-day old beef & broccoli on his breath. Left over Chinese food-breath is not a turn-on. No, it is not.

For his being 'selfish' (again, his word), it never, but should have, occurred to me that he might not be a top selfish, but a bottom selfish. But I was blinded by lust and hope and had these ideals of how I wanted to get laid. How I needed to get laid.

The guy, for being newly out, is all (or mostly) bottom. UGH. I mean, it's a great scenario, if I'm the bottom, but you know me and being the top. I can do it, but it's not me - nor will it ever be.

And for his cock that I thought would be huge since it was stiffening nicely, but not all the way up in the shower? Turns out that was it. No 8-9". A nice 7", but I can't say "STIFF". Apparently that is what a prostate biopsy gets you - a semi that can't really get off anymore.

Oh, it's also almost TMI. But I guess it's nice to know that it wasn't me. The perils of being attracted to a man in his mid-50s. But one day I'll be there, but not yet. Not yet.

Oh - and he isn't into reciprocation, so what little I sucked him, he couldn't even feign a moan.

His sucking was subpar too. I think I provided a mercy feeding. I like the guy, but now I don't LIKE him. He used more hand than mouth - and hell, I can wet jack myself off. I assumed he wouldn't take my load either and he did........kind of.

I shot a big load in his mouth and probably overdid it on the vocal theatrics. It probably sounded like I liked it too much. It probably gave him false hope. Oh - and he only held my load in his mouth and then and went and spit it out. He said there was too much to swallow all of it. So because of that he swallowed none of it? It makes no sense.

Then afterwards, he wanted to process the entire thing. Man, did I call this one wrong.

Do I have to go to the gym at different times now?

BJ Town

In this town, it is so much easier to be a top. It is not where my natural tendencies lie, as you already know, but when push comes to shove, one does what one must to empty his nuts.

Case in point - in the last week, I've had my cock sucked three times. THREE times.

Suck job #1 - A guy I normally suck wanted to go down on me. I let him. He was ok, but nothing great. It was not to finish me off, just a break from me sucking him. I did go back to him, but for some unknown reason he pulled out and shot on the floor.

"Did you want that in your mouth?" he asked. My response was, "when have I ever left here without it?" Oy.

#2 was what I would call my regular cocksucker. Imagine - me, a cocksucker, having a cocksucker. He likes to play with my chest when he sucks me. I like it too. But he loves putting his hand in my goatee or taking his hands to feel my feet. If that masculinity stuff helps him, it's ok with me. I don't let him play with himself or get off when I'm there.

I don't when I'm servicing guys, why should he? For as much cock as he sucks he should be better. He's ok but not really good. But he swallows my huge load - so there's that.

The last one was this last Sunday. I went to a park - looking to suck. Alas, it was not to happen. It is the curse of having a big dick.

The guy, who looked like a slightly deranged ex-military guy, was on the edge of the park almost waiting for me...or for some guy, who just happened to be me. We went down an all too familiar path that I've been on - literally and figuratively.

He did have a great mouth. I never asked if he swallowed. I didn't give him the chance. That hand you see on the top of his head was for my control. And I did. I held him on it, and he swallowed.

But I have to get back out there as a cocksucker. Soon.

Cocksucking Video

No - not me, but I'd gladly be on either end of this scene. The guy blowing the feeder is hot and better yet, the eater has a bigggggggggg cock.

Twitter follower Dar474 sent this to me, so he gets the credit.

FuckBud?

I think I just interviewed for the position of FuckBuddy.

Formal, but not too formal – though we were both in suits, so kind of formal. And it was done over a meal. But I’ll back up a little.

Remember the hot guy in the shower? Well on Tuesday night I had another encounter with him – in both the sauna and shower. No words, but 70% erections. Neither of us got to full mast, but what a sight that would have been. The gym was busier than I thought it should be, so I was trying to be discrete.

As I was toweling off, still in the shower area, he rubbed my ass. His discretion was less so than mine.

I went out to dress myself and he soon followed. As it turns out, his locker was right behind mine. He took his time dressing as I sat on the bench with his big fucking dick right in front of me. He knew it. I knew it. But where we were was not conducive to do anything about that – even for a second.

We finished dressing at the same time and walked out together. He asked if I was free for lunch the next day and I accepted. Somewhere during this walk he disclosed his marital status (divorced) and that he knows he could never be in a relationship as he knows he is too selfish. Talk about a match made in heaven!

He was setting me up for the reaction and he got what he needed: someone in it for the fuck.

Lunch was nice and informative. We started on the topic of sex, a bit, deviated to daily life stuff: work, some history of each other and where we were coming from, and then as he said, ‘lets get back to the lurid’.

Divorced with three grown kids, he looks great for a man who came out at 50 (which was six years ago), he is a recovered/recovering drug addict and alcoholic – but I suspect his cross addiction might be sex. Who am I to judge?

He dated/lived with some guy for four years and decided he cannot be monogamous – it is not who he is. If he was looking for a reaction to see my disappointment, he’d get none. He got none. Like me, he does not equate sex with love – though he was careful not to say without emotion.

This is a powerful Italian man. I think most of the things he does is done with emotion, on some level. But if he is selfish, I’m ok with it if that extends to the bed. Knowing what I know about him, he is used to being in charge and getting his way. And now he has a clearer direction of who he is and what he wants from life.

I am one of those things.

Yes….a thing. My words, not his, but I think the intent was clear.

He mentioned watching me in the gym for months and wondering if, how and when to approach. I had seen him, but never would have suspected that he was gay, or that he’d be remotely interested in me. Fail on two levels for me.

I got a big bonus when he mentioned how he thought I had a great body. I mean, he does, so he has an idea. Yes, I’ve been working on mine for months now, but the progress is too slow and gradual for me to see a difference. But someone did….or is talking bullshit to get what he wants. Right now it’s working for me.

So it got down to some logistics. Not the ‘what are you into?’ shit – it never got to that. More like, dates, times, places we would and could do this.

As it turns out, we got some BS out of the way, discussed the interest and viability for a potential partnership and if I was good enough to fill the position – so to speak.

I make no bones about it – but this was an interview to see if I was the candidate of choice, both for him and myself.

I think I’ve just been hired as FuckBuddy.

There is no pay, but the benefits will be totally worth it.

Bred Against a Car

He was in his late 30s – me, I was 16. Underage, but only by the letter of the law. At this point, I knew what I was doing and actively seeking it out.

I was a resourceful guy and by the time I had my driver’s license, I had scoped out places to find dick. There were no adult bookstores where I lived, so they were a good 30-40 minute drive. But as often as I could, I made my way over to those places.

Either I appeared older than I was, or the clerk looked the other way as he collected my $5 for entrance. I suspect the latter, as years later, I pondered to myself that I was more than likely good for business. Friday nights were the busiest – and most convenient for getting away from my house. As soon as I could get over the nerves of walking through that front door, the rest was a breeze.

I think I’ve mentioned here that I always felt lucky to have experiences with MEN. Not boys. Never boys. And that it only occurred to me years later, that some of these men must have thought they were the lucky ones to be able to use a teenager. And make no mistake, they used me, but I used them as well. I was wise beyond my years.

One night, I ended up leaving with this man in his late 30s. We went in his car, leaving mine behind. A foolish thing to do when I reflect upon it, but a 16 year old is run by hormones and hormones alone. Not a whole lot different than a 36 year old, I suppose….or 46….or 56. We’re pigs. Or at least we don’t think with our brains.

He drove me to a deserted parking lot - one used by commuters to catch the train into town. But on a Friday night, the commute is over, the lot empty and black as pitch. It was there he violated me. Twice. Willingly, but still……….

With both of us out of the car, on the passenger side, he had me turn face toward the door, so my body was against the door, my head looking out over the roof of the car. The penetration was slow and deliberate. It was only spit for lube and I had not experienced poppers yet – and would not for another almost 10 years. Outdoors, night, raw, spit – it was about as au natural as you could get.

He continued to sink into me with soft and continual words of encouragement, but the reality was, he wanted in and the encouragement he was giving was for his own benefit. It’s so easy to see these things later in life. I probably knew then too, but it wasn’t at the front of my mind.

The guy went in and bottomed out, pressing me between himself and his car. It didn’t last long, that first time – about five minutes before he told me he was going to cum and then proceeded to dump his nut in my teen ass. After a minute or so he slipped out and I was there with my jeans around my knees but not moving fast to get them back up and buckled. Even out here, for potentially any to see, I felt safe – with no good reason. He had put himself away.

We chatted for a few minutes about what just happened. He chatted mostly. He asked my age, I lied. He asked if I liked it, I didn’t lie. He told me he loved it and how tight it was. I’d now like to know if he would have been more turned on if he knew I wasn’t legal or scared shitless. At the time, he was turned on by what he didn’t know.

I went to hike my pants up and he stopped me by putting both hands on my shoulders. “Not yet”, he said. Without another word he turned me back to being against the door, my ass sticking out. Never hearing the zipper go down, I soon felt that is must have, as his hard dick was back at my hole. This time he needed less effort to push in me and took more time fucking me.

The grunts were louder, the non-worded verbals were more frequent. The metal on the car was cold, his flesh was hot. The fucking got harder. Harder than when he started and a lot harder than the first go-round. He pounded me against the car – no one to see, no one to hear. He added his load to the first one. They co-mingled and stayed in me.

This time he didn’t wait for it to slip out, he pulled out and zipped up. I got myself together too. I almost thought he might leave me there – a mile from my car, but he drove me back. I considered going back in to see who else was there, but I knew I had to get home – I had a curfew.

Bred in a Car

He had a mullet and a Suzuki Samurai – if that tells you anything.

It was years ago, right around this time of the season. There was a park, or really an outdoor athletic facility that consisted of 42 baseball fields, which got converted into football fields in fall. Lots of intramural play happened here, but during the weekdays, it was nothing more than a cruising ground.

There were “roads” that took you to whichever area of the park had the field you were looking for. Since multiple cars would show up to carry the amateur athletes, there were just places to park – whether to play or when I’d show up, to score dick. When there was sporting shit, there were tons of cars. When it was cruising, usually only a dozen or so were there – depending on day or evening.

On this cold afternoon, you could count the cars on one hand. His being one. Mine being one. I went to this park quite often and had a usual routine. I’d scout out a site to park my car and see others driving around and they’d come check me out. It seemed to make more sense than trying sync cars as they continued to drive and drive. I used the same technique at a bookstore or bar. It’s not that I thought they should all come to me – that I’m that hot – it’s that if one is stationery it just makes it easier to connect.

He pulled up next to me. Backed in even. I was that way too. It made it easier to see who was approaching, be it either a potential trick, or the law. There was the requisite nodding of the head to acknowledge each other and then the rolling down of the windows to make chit-chat in the ever-dropping temperatures. I was invited over. I accepted.

Chat lead to dirty chat. That led to I’ll show you mine, you show me yours. That invariable led to his hand on the back of my head pushing me down into his lap. I gave little, if any resistance. No surprise.

He had a nice body, a great face and a nice 7.5” dick. Thin, but still more than a mouthful. As it turns out, it fit nicely there – among other places. His hand still at my head, he used the leverage to hold me down to push up his hips. I met his thrusts, not that he was giving me much of a choice. Maybe he got off on the scene, I did, but in reality I had no intention of going anywhere.

Considering our surroundings, I was surprised at the turn of events. Yes, my pants were open and down so I could play with myself. So were his – but so I could play with himself.

For the life of me I have no idea how it happened. Sun had set so it was dark. This guy had me recline my seat as far back as it would go and somehow he got me on my belly. If you’ve been in a Samurai, they aren’t the easiest things to maneuver in. The gear shift is on the floor, neither of our pants were fully off, but before I knew it, he was on top of me pushing his 7.5” into my ass.

I didn’t try to stop him.

But in the back of my mind, I knew we were now facing away from any one who might approach. The car was still facing forward, but my ass was facing out and my face looking out the back window.

It wasn’t a long fuck, but longer than you might think in that situation. 10 minutes maybe. It was hard. He was hard on me. The situation kind of lent itself to that. This was no, ‘how does that feel’ kind of encounter. This was, ‘I’m gonna fuck the hell out of that hole and flood that ass’.

…and that is exactly what he did.

Violent movements in and out of me until he just stopped. No words. No sounds. He just stopped moving and let it go into me – all his white liquid.

Without a word he pulled out and rolled over to his drivers seat. And what he did next was priceless: as I was trying to get myself together, he reached over and opened my door. He was done with me. In every way.