He was thick - no doubt about it.
One of his screen names said so, but you can't always believe those, can you?
We had met, we had chatted, but we hadn't done the deed. The question came up if we even should - as we were striking up some kind of friendship. I've never been one to have sex with friends (I know, I know). But the guy turned me on and we discussed and concluded one event wouldn't impede on the other.
The plan was for dinner and maybe something more. We started with something more. Dinner came later.
Shortly after being in the house, his normally friendly demeanor was gone. I was pushed to my knees. He told me to "lick it".
I gnawed on his crotch through his jeans. He moaned. I liked that. He undid his belt and popped the first button of his jeans. I liked that. I popped open the rest. He liked that.
That exposed his white Calvins. I gnawed on those, maybe even got them a little damp. I think I got an approval in way of a fucking moan and some dirty words. That's the way I interpreted it. Fuck, that's how I get through my days. My perceived validation.
Eventually, I pulled down the waistband to expose a beautiful cock. Wrapped around the base was a thick red rubber cockring. It made his natural dick that much nicer. I suspect he needs no enhancements. But it was nice nonetheless.
You'd have to ask him, but I believe I was good at my cocksucking. His verbals were all in the affirmative, even in a dirty way. I sucked aggressively. He pumped my face aggressively. No gags were to be had, I accommodated that rod well. I could have done it for hours.
He (yes, I'm providing no name, or even made up name), told me to stand up. With a stern look, he grabbed my jaw forcibly and rhetorically quizzed me: "you like this, don't you?". With almost no time between the next statement, he did in fact state: "you DO like this!".
Naturally, I answered "yes Sir".
I wanted to so badly to kiss him and he knew it, even before I attempted - even without words. Moving my face, his hand still clasping my jaw, he pulled me back and said, "who's in charge here?" My reply, "you are, Sir".
With that the kiss was mine, but on his terms. But I wanted more and with my lips, but not his. Well, not the lips on his face. He made me ask.
It was a beautiful ass. I fucking loved eating it. He might never admit it due to our dynamics, but he loved me eating it. There was no containing the vocals that were happening above me as he was bent over. It's another place I could have spent hours. Maybe one day I will.
But it was time for the main event. He was rock hard and wet.
Clearly, you know I take it up the ass. I've written about it often. I like it. I like to think I do more than talk a good game. I've taken it. I've taken it hard. I've taken big. But each guy is different in their approach. Top and Bottom.
I dare say that most aggressive top men are faux aggressive. If you say 'stop' or 'go easy', chances are they will. That's great in some regards, disappointing in others. Some say bottoms have all the power, I believe that is true only in weak tops. They can be manipulated.
This one was not to be manipulated or coaxed into doing it other than his way.
He knew one thing about me from this day - other than reading my blog - and that was I had already been fucked earlier in the day, and even still had the load in me, though it had been planted hours before. This was not to be a fresh load/lube fuck. That mattered not to him.
Bent over a chair, he lined up and pushed in. As the title and first line of this post states, he was thick!
I like thick, but this was not an easing in of thick. It was a manly shove. That's ok, I can do it, I thought. But he did pull out, but trust me, not because of me. Though I did go grab the poppers. Then it was back to being bent over.
One shove. One. FUCK it smarted! No way around that.
He pulled back when I groaned (possibly came off as slightly complained?) how thick he was, but he was unrepentive. That's how it should be - so deep down I was fine with it. He told me to breathe and I knew that, but fuck the impact hit every sensory nerve, and yes, I forget to breathe through those situations.
I did get a hold of myself and let him all the way back in. He kept telling me I could take it, since I already got fucked that day and still had a load up my ass. He kept plugging away, and told me that I would have to get used to his dick, not just for this time, but for other fucks coming my way from him.
We settled into a nice rhythm, and his cock always made me feel full. The earlier dick I had taken was about the same length but much much thinner. It was a nice full feeling, but still, he was stretching the hole - and he knew it. Hell, he loved making sure I knew it too.
He asked me to pass him the poppers and I suspected those would help him finish the job.
As he pumped more and continually deep, he told me to tighten up my hole. I did - he responded to it. The pumping, the poppers, the grip put him at the edge. Over the edge, eventually.
He made me ask for it. He made me tell him what I wanted, and what he wanted to hear. "I fucking want your load up my ass", I said. There were possibly other adjectives up there, but one can't always remember in the heat of sex. You get the gist of it.
He exploded up my ass. It was a nice big load too - or certainly felt like it. When he withdrew, even a little blop of cum hit the floor. I liked that.
After, we did go out to dinner and things were good - except for his mocking me saying "it's tooooo thick".
He did it to get a rise out of me, and to pat himself on the back.