Manhandled

The Scruff profile was rather unassuming.  I noticed it for two reasons:

1. He had viewed me first, so I saw that in my list
2. He was a new face. Let's face it, if you're a non-paying member and looking at 'near by' you see the same fucking 40 faces every.single.day.  - unless you live in NYC, Los Angeles or Chicago.

The face was just as unassuming as his profile, and for the uneducated, as he talks about 'chatting' and 'other encounters'.  His partner also has to like you.  So - 3 ways.

But he was from New York, so he was visiting and I'm guessing no partner - which I was correct. He asked about Cleveland and getting around - somewhere along the line, I put in a piggy face, like this :@) and then we were off to the races.

He liked nipple play and asked if I did.  As you know, I told him I liked it light and gave aways my "secret" that most things could happen if someone did that.

He had taken me for, in his words, a 'bitch bottom'.  I couldn't really argue. He wondered when I could get to this hotel room and we agreed upon a time.

He had a suite. HUGE room, with separate bedroom. He opened the door and stood 6'3" and maybe 160lbs. His face was much more handsome than it appeared in the profile image  - something I would later tell him. But the face looked nice and inviting and it threw me from some more of the app chat where he wanted me to suck his cock and he was somewhat dom.

I was brought back to reality quickly when there was no 'hello' or friendly conversation - as his face would suggest - and his hands went right to my shoulders and forcibly pushed me to my knees.

...and so it began.

I gnawed and worshiped his dick through his jeans. I went right into sub mode, knowing most things to do and what not to say and more importantly, when not to say it.

Since it was a suite, there was quite a bit more furniture than a standard hotel room. We'd eventually get to most of the pieces, except the bedroom.

He went to undo his belt, and I said I would take care of that.  I shouldn't have said it.  He told me to lift my hands behind my head, he pulled my t-shirt up and to the back of my head, essentially binding my hands in place with my own clothing.  Then he proceeded to fuck my face.

This wasn't what faux tops do - a few hard pumps and then relent into letting some guy just suck - no, he was fucking my face, like a machine.  Deep, hard, continual. There was no let up. None.  There was no finesse. None.  There wasn't meant to be.  I was being put in my place as an object.

I was on my knees and bound by my t-shirt when he hauled me up by my armpits. Ignoring, not forgetting, my desire for light nipple play, he grabbed my tits with all his might.  It hurt, no doubt, but I was wise enough not to say 'ouch' or 'stop'.  I'm sure he saw the pain in my face.

It was while I was on my knees that that got my first face smack. He wasn't testing the waters to see how hard I could take it, he just went at it, a few times actually....all on the left side of my face.

He moved farther south to my chest and abs, but they weren't slaps as much as they were punches. I thought at this point he'd hit harder but he didn't.  Yet.  Don't get me wrong, I knew I was being punched, but nothing I couldn't handle at this point.

He then moved me over in front of the full length mirror.  I assumed he wanted to see himself fuck my mouth.  Wrong!

He pushed me face first into the mirror with him right behind me. I knew he wasn't planning on fucking me - at least then - but he was exposed and pushing near my ass and into the mirror, hard enough where it had the potential to shatter. All the while, he'd reach around and lightly play with my nipples.

He turned me around so my back was to the mirror.  "Undress" was the directive.  I had to get my pants, shoes, socks and boxers off without the use of my hands.  It wasn't easy, but doable.  Then I was to do him as well.  That was a little more challenging, but soon we were both naked.

More cocksucking while he lightly played with my nipples, though once in a while it'd be slightly harder. More slapping.  More punching.

He had me crawl behind him until he got to a chair. There he put up his feet on the ottoman and had me sit there, looking at him, my mouth to be open at all times and hands on the back of my head.

"Don't swallow" was his directive.  The pool of saliva started to build.  He knew what he was doing.  It began to run out of my mouth, down into my beard and off my chin. You could see he liked it.

What I was also able to see was that for a man of few words and a seemingly pleasant face, his eyes were grey, but there was a darkness behind them that didn't impede color.  The eyes were intense and said everything even if his mouth uttered not a word.

Now and then, he'd reach up and smear my own spit into my beard or use it to lube his hand to stroke his own cock as he watched me intently. I swear at this time, I never saw his eyes blink as he took in everything he was doing, everything to which I was reacting and how he could all make it work to his advantage.

I was ordered to lick from the toes, all the way up his body. I put my mouth to work on all his toes, even trying to get them all into my mouth at once, though I was not successful. But I did work up his body - legs, mid section, abs, chest, nipples, arm pits, arms.  He pushed me away when I worked at his head. All the while my hand stayed clasped behind my head.

All the while he would play a bit with my nipples.

He stood up and walked away, bending over a small table in the room.  I was told to crawl to him and eat his ass.  Of course I did - that is one of my favorite things. I kissed it first.  I licked the outside of the hole. I licked it in circles.  Then I stuck my tongue in deep.  Clearly he had just showered, though he didn't taste like soap.  That went on for about 10 minutes.

Once again I was pulled up, slapped, punched and moved towards one of the many large windows, as this was an older, established hotel.  I was pressed face / chest / cock first into the window for anyone who wanted to look up five stories to see.  The road below was busy with pedestrians. He was hoping someone would see and I did too.

He leaned into my ear and said, "I don't know if you're a bitch boy, an exhibitionist or just want to please me".  I replied, "all three, Sir".

He let me go and walked away.  I knew deep down not to move.  I stayed in front of the window with my arms still behind my head.

I heard him approach from behind me, he had brought a black leather belt with him, which went around my neck. He fastened it so that it basically became both a collar and a leash. I got down on all fours and he "walked" me to another chair where I orally serviced his cock.

He tightened the collar / belt at my neck. He looked at me with intensity and a little warmth. "You have to trust me.  I don't want you not breathing".  I said nothing, with my silence giving my permission.

More open palmed hands to my face.  More punches to my gut.  More nipple play. And even his nails going into my sides and being dragged upwards.

He removed the belt and used it to bind my hands behind my head. There he moved me to yet another chair, had me kneel on it and bend over the back of it. I thought for sure he would fuck me, but still this did not happen. It turns out he didn't know me well enough to penetrate me that way.

It did not stop him from teasing me with his hard 7" at my back door.  He even reached around to touch my dick.  "You're leaking something fierce", he told me.  He rubbed my cock and make me clean off his fingers.

He got me up and took me over to the large dining table.  Oh yeah, they had one that was mirror topped.  Still bound, he pushed me back so I was was lying on the cold surface facing up.  He hit me multiple more times in various places.

He talked about others in his stable. He talked about having me suck off others for his enjoyment. He was getting excited by his own talk, but so was I.  He mentioned the burning desire and lust he could see in my eyes as he went on. It would have been hard to deny.

Times here he would grab my chest hair - hard!  I winced silently.  I knew not to say a word and just take it.

He did pull me up and I was back onto my knees.  "Your two hours are almost up.".  It was my job to finish him off.  I worked his dick until he back it out so my mouth was back open, my tongue out. Where before I did this and was told not to swallow, we both knew this time I would be swallowing.

He blasted off with a force that I have rarely seen / felt.  Jets propelling his cum out of his cock head and into my mouth.  Only the first hit below my mouth and the rest went in as my mouth clasped over his head.  I got the rest, but didn't swallow.

I opened my mouth as he pulled out.  He could see his semen inside my opening.

"Swallow", he flatly stated.  I did.

He saw me gulp his seed and he saw me wipe up that first hit that got into my beard. He smiled. The smile was less pleasant then when we began - as you might expect.

He told me to dress, but he wanted my "evaluation".  Partly to make him a better top, partly to admittedly stroke his own ego.

I didn't have to fudge on the eval.  I told him what I liked, what he did well. I told him he needed a new profile pic.  I said he might have wanted to punch me harder, but he smiled.

He mentioned how taken back I was with the first nipple grab, which did hurt.  He told me as he went on during the two hours, he'd grab harder and harder till he got to the place he did at the first contact, but I didn't seem to notice that it got more abusive.  He said he did the same with the punching.

He told me not to contact him again and that next time he was in town, I would know it.

No doubt I will.

Familiar Face

I know I've mentioned Gnarly Dicked-Day (GDD) a few times here.

After our first time, most of the times, he brings along a "friend".  Rarely do he and I hook up as just the two of us.  Overall, this company he brings has worked out well.  Strangers who he somehow finds on-line with the promise of a blowjob from a gifted oral man (me!).

I assume he shows them a pic of me or points them to my profile.  I don't ask.

For the most part, he has chosen his friends well, but there are only so many men in town who want head - so there is always the possibility that one might actually know me.

So yesterday, GDD messages me that he wants to bring one or two guys over at 11:30a.  Then at 11:00a, he cancels. At 11:45a says he wants to come by at 12:00p.  He's bringing some guy with him.

GDD is at the door, but I know someone is trailing him by quite a few yards, and around a corner. GDD enters and goes up to my office when "Tim" comes around the corner.  He is audible to me only: "are you ok with this?"

I nod in the affirmative.

I know Tim.  I actually wrote about him back in 2009.

Since that 2009 encounter, I won't say I got to know him well, but we did run into each other in a number of social gatherings - all on the up and up. He even snagged my email address from one of these to invite me to political gatherings at the major election times. I declined all of them - not because of my political beliefs or that I'd be mingling with him and his friends and colleagues, knowing what I know.  I just was too cheap to spend a minimum of $250 per event.

So up to my office we all go.  Admittedly, I try not to make eye contact with Tim, as I don't know how he really feels about all this. Clearly he was intrigued enough to do it when he thought it was a total stranger - but I also never know what information was relayed ahead of time about what would be happening.

GDD immediately starts to unfasten his belt and pants and they drop to his ankles.  He pulls his underwear down to expose his flaccid dick.  I get on my knees, still avoiding Tim, and put GDD's cok in my mouth.  I hear Tim say "yeahhhhh".  A good sign.

GDD goes on to call me a litany of names - slut, cocksucker, cumdump, fag - all within the first minute of my performance.  His dick grows to it's full fat 8 inches. He tells me to stay down on it and just let it rest in my mouth and throat - I do as I'm told.

Soon he pushes me off and over to Tim's dick.

His 7" were easy enough to get down, but he's rough.  Or maybe not rough, but he jackhammers his hardening dick into my mouth.  His pours smell like seeping alcohol.  Not a one time drunk thing, but maybe an issue with the hooch.  Hey, not to stereotype, but he is an Irish decent and a lawyer.  Still, I love how the cock grew in my mouth and then would twitch.

GDD tol me to lick Tim's balls. I did.  I ran my tongue over the freshly shaved nuts that were protruding from the cockring that was in place. I even licked farther back, though I couldn't quite get to his hole.  Still, he trembled at my touching his taint with my tongue.

While I was working on one, the other would stroke his own dick.  I was back to GDD getting it sloppy wet, as that is how he likes it when Tim made those sounds - the ones of impending orgasm.  I knew enough to switch feeders and was back on him.

He pumped off a huge load into my mouth and it was quite tasty.

Just as I was finishing, GDD told me to get onto his dick.  I was there for all of 10 seconds before his load went into my mouth - again, telling myself and Tim what a slut I was.

For added effort, as much as I tried to avoid to someone I know how sexual I can be, GDD made sure to nip that in the bud  He squeezed his dick of one last drop of cum and told me to clean it off - and I did, solidifying for the entire group what I was.

Later, Tim texted me to make sure we were all cool and that no one needs to know our "little secret".   I'm good with that.  He said he almost bailed when they pulled up to the house (not that I ever remember him knowing where I lived), but decided to go through with it and he was glad he was.

a Kiss & a Fuck

His lips were soft.  Possibly the softest lips I have ever kissed.

It is not like he is effeminate in any way, but just the softest that have ever touched my own mouth.

The irony was not lost on me, as we were in a brief set of woods, slated to do the nasty.  Yet here I was - doing, and about to do, two things I normally refrain from during most of my hook-ups:  kiss and fuck.

He and I had been chatting for a long long time - and how he wanted my load. He is one of the few bottoms I chat with that actually turns me on by his stories.  I don't like to live vicariously through other bottoms, and I am not, but his tales do make me stiffen up.

He was coming through town, but only for an hour or so.  I made arrangements to meet him close to the airport where he could get away and still have time for his final destination.

I knew of a cemetery bathroom to use, but as I was waiting for him, I found a nearby set of woods that didn't seem to be used.  I even took a stroll back there waiting for his arrival and scoped it all out.  I think we'd be fine and we'd be able to hear them coming from a long ways off.

He eventually showed and I escorted him back into the woods and then into a clearing.  That is where our lips touched.  The soft lips.  While they didn't last long, we'd revisit each other's lips during our encounter.

Our time was limited and we had an agenda - he'd get my load, but I'd get his too. I'm too much of a bottom just to give up my dick and my load without something in return.  I'm selfish.  I fully admit it.

The guy (no name) turned me around so he was behind me. As he was mostly a bottom (too), he struggled a little to maintain an erection to get it into me.  Of course I was understanding, as I know that has always been my lot in life and would be again - in about 10 minutes.

Trial and error, but he got in and up me.  He warned me days ahead of time, he would be quick. He's not accustomed to fucking and the associated stimuli.  True to his word, it was not a long fuck, but I think it went longer than either of us thought - at least based on the information he provided.

He groaned as his swimmers went into my ass.   Now it was his turn.

I think I'd make a decent top with two things - the mental status of wanting to be one and if I took viagra.  If I could keep my cock hard, a whole new population of homos would love me.  And while the drug would override (I'm assuming) the mental aspect of me not being a top - it's just not where I want to be.

I think if you read other blogs, guys are clearly one or the other. Some are truly versatile, but those are few and far between, even if they write that way.  You can see a pattern of who they are; what they prefer.

I prefer bottom, but I made a promise and I would do my best to fulfill it.

I would get very hard as we worked our way to penetration, but I always have trouble at that point and that day was no exception. Our verbal foreplay helped.  I know things about him - his early sexual experiences, that right or wrong, turn me on.

That talk is what would get me hard, we had to keep up the discussion to keep me hard.  After I was in, I think we were golden.

I lasted quite a bit longer.  Actually, I was having trouble getting past the brink. I could feel me getting to the edge of that proverbial cliff, but I couldn't jump.  For the life of me, I don't know what finally did it, but I went.

...and I shot....and shot....and shot.  I had build up quite a load over the days prior to and I made sure he got everything I had stored.

We left the small bottle of lube back there.  We left the handi-wipe he brought back to clean off our dicks (what a boy scout!).  Anthropologists from the future will know exactly what took place back there - at least to a certain degree.

Black is the new Black

A buddy of mine mentioned recently that once you get some black cock, a signal goes out to other black men saying you're open for business.

It's not quite the same as that old phrase, 'once you go black you don't go back'.

I have gone back - and forth - quite a bit. I had my first black dick when I was 16.  Even end of last year and the beginning of this, I have had some I've written about and many that I have not.

And of course, last month, you read about me and the DL Professor.

You did not read about four other DL guys - one who did fuck me, one who attempted to fuck me and two others for whom I got down on my knees.  And there's another one in the wings.  Or on deck. Choose your theater or baseball analogy according to your Butch Level.

The one who attempted to fuck me was on A4A. Nice dick, iffy guy. A slim guys, but his belly was bloated / distended like he needed it tapped and drained.  Considering he was living next to a hospital, maybe that was his deal. He wanted to fuck but had no skills.  I like wham-bam stuff, but he was just bad at it.  Painfully bad - and I mean that in every way. I finally made him stop and I sucked him off.  It wasn't what I wanted, but sometimes that's not always possible.

I have no illusions about returning, though he messages me almost every single day, but doesn't get the hint. I guess I'm being too nice.

One of the feeders is a solid guy, taller than I am, maybe 6'4", but 230 or so.  8" he claims, but is closer to 7".  He's not fond of flakes, but failed to show one time; was here for 45 seconds the second and had to bolt and finally showed up a week later and stayed that third time.  He might qualify as a flake.

The cock was nice. His filthy mouth demeaning me was nicer.  "White cocksucker" or "white faggot" came out of his mouth repeatedly. I mean, he was flaking and I still let him in and was on my knees - he knew the score.

I worked on him a good 30 minutes before he gave up his nut.  The seed was ok but nothing I couldn't handle. I took every drop.  I haven't heard from him since.

The other guy was even more DL.  Answering from Home Depot and stopping by on his way to wherever he was going.

More blue collar, more street than the other guys, with a big whopping 8.5" cock.  He was quiet, but assertive in his hip action into my mouth.  He was a little grimy for me - and I really mean unshowered and a little bit rank. I like that to a degree, but there is a point where it's just not fun.

Still he shot a big load - one I took.  He mentioned having my email and would use it again, but I have heard nothing from him. Nor did I expect to.  I think he was so heavy on the down low that he wasn't going to reach out to anyone repeatedly.

Honestly, I know I had another feeder, but he isn't standing out to me as anything special.

But as for the one who pumped my ass, he was a quiet guy.  60 (yes, 60!), but an incredible gym-built body with a little bit of hair on his worked-out pecs. While his profile said 8", he was 7, maybe even 7.5", but  he wasn't 8.  He wasn't as thick as he claimed either.  Not bad, but I knew I wasn't going to have difficulty taking it - not that that says much about me.  :@)

We started with me bent over a desk. That worked for a while, but then he wanted me on all fours.  I like it that way - but let's face it, there are few ways I don't like it.

With his exchange on-line, he would have been mistaken for more verbal, but he was not.  As I said earlier, he was quiet.  He knew what he was doing with that cock and body, as he pumped my ass while on our knees, but he wasn't nearly as aggressive as I imagined he might.

After about 10, he just told me to get flat on my belly.  Lately, this seems to be the go-to position for a lot of guys. Clearly, I've been topped this way before (even by the first black guy I was ever with), but within the last 8 months or so, it seems more standard.  I'm not opposed to it, but I'm not sure how these "trends" take off.  Or maybe it's just coincidence.

He put his weight on top of me and started really sawing at my hole. It felt good.

WAY sooner than I thought, he was going "yeahhh.....yeahhh.....hell yeahhhhh".

Now, he never said he was cumming, but I could feel the jumps and pulses of his black cock up my white ass.  He was unloading up there as he continued to loudly moan "yeahhhhhh".

Yeah, indeed.

He said we'd do it again.  I haven't heard from him since.


Maybe there is a signal out there that I've been entertaining black guys lately. Maybe their internal network is all abuzz.  Time will tell.

Biggest Load Ever?

Within the last 90 minutes, I have taken what is possibly the biggest load I have ever encountered.  At least orally.

He came to me via a CL ad I placed.  Either too cavalier or stupid to use an email account that doesn't have his first and last name on it, he was looking for a noon-time blowjob.  He was new to me.

50 or 55, 5'11", 180, dark, greased back hair with a hint of grey to it. The scalloped wedding ring. And a diamond stud in his left ear - one he was way too old to be try to pull that off.  With the clothes he wore, he would remind you off a guy who managed a Merry-Go-Round, if they still existed (or maybe they do).

Neither here nor there.  I wasn't there to judge him on his dress or earring, but on his 7.5" cock he claimed to have.  I was skeptical as I rubbed him through his pants.  I was still not sure as I rubbed him through his tight boxer briefs.

Once those came down, out sprang a semi-hard 5" penis.

Respectable, but I wasn't sure it would get to the advertised size.

With a hit of poppers, I placed my lips to his head and immediately sank all the way down.  No teasing - not yet.

With my mouth I helped him grow.  We'd all like to think it was just with out mouths or asses, but some of it is mental on their part too. Yes, we as a gender think with out dicks, but we can't always control them with our northern brain.

He did grow to his full size.  But maybe 7.25".  Still not bad and a good sized thickness.

The man was beyond reserved. It would take him a few therapy sessions to get TO reserved, he was that low key.  No words.  No sounds.  Not a grunt or groan as I worked his meat with my lips, mouth, tongue and throat.

A few times, he touched my left, and only left shoulder, while pivoting himself slightly to his left. At first I thought he was just steadying himself for the head I was giving.  After the third time, I made an assumption is was some kind of physical indication he was close to orgasm.

I can normally tell by other reactions, but he had such small nuts to begin with, feeling if they pulled up and in was a no-go.  His lack of response, verbally, to my attention was a non-starter.

But with his head at my throat, I felt a pulse.  Then two, then three.  He was shooting directly into my throat.

Since I like to taste it, I pulled back. Four, five, six, seven - up to nine pulses, easily. Each time I thought the volume would slow down or lessen, it remained at least as strong as the one before.

I am proud to say I kept every fucking drop.  I am not as proud to say how much I struggled to keep up with the amount of seed this guy had.  I struggled, I gagged, my eyes watered a bit.

I like to think I'm a better cocksucker than this, but on the other hand, I need to be challenged now and again.  I like my limits pushed. I like honing my skills.  This guy did that.

What kills me is, he wasn't trying to do any of that.  He was standing as still as possible, saying absolutely nothing, and letting some unknown guy take his dick into his mouth.

I'm glad he gave me no warning of what was to come.  Maybe he didn't know. But I shoot huge loads and the few times I do get sucked, I warn the cocksucker about my shooting because they always say they can take it and they almost never can.  But I didn't want him to be me, the feeder.  Catch the cocksucker off guard, let him work for it, surprise him - and that's what this guy did.

For the life of me, it is quite possible the biggest load I have ever swallowed.  And let's face it, that's saying something.  A few times I've been 'round that track......

I promised him I wouldn't contact him, but if he ever wanted another go-round, he knew how to get a hold of me.

Bartender

I get a message on Scruff as I was working.  A guy saying 'hey' and 'what's up?'

I said I was on-line, looking for a load, "if I am being honest", I added.  He liked that.

His screen name was 'Sir' and is a total top. So when he asked where I wanted the load, I was smart enough to answer, "that's not up to me, Sir".   He liked that even more.

He was working too, but at a bar.  It was 12:30p, how many people could be in a fucking gay bar a little after noon? Apparently one.  The customer must be a sad sack or bar-fly.  But the bartender said we could use the men's room for me to suck him off.

I had some time, so I agreed. I told him I'd be there in 30.  It'd take me 20, but I knew I needed gas, so the moral of this story is never be on fumes - you don't know when you'll have an immediate sex opportunity.

31, 6'2", a slim 165. Buzzed head - he looked like a slightly emaciated skinhead.  His profile picture didn't do him any justice, something I'd tell him after we finished. He was much more handsome in real life.

When I got to the bar, there were now three customers. I missed him sending me a message saying to 'forget it' as he was now busy. I was already outside the bar - fuck it, I was going in.  Two of the three customers finished their "lunch" by slamming them back and leaving - which left the one other customer.

With no words, the bartender walked to the bathroom. I followed about a minute later, which I'm sure was obvious to the remaining customer.  If he was a regular, he'd probably seen this played out before. I highly doubt this was the first and only time this has happened.

The bathroom had a stall with a door. No bartender to be seen, so I pushed open the stall door and there he stood - massaging his already exposed cock.  It was a nice size, but still soft - hard to say where it would go.

I shut and locked the door, dropped my pants and sat on the toilet.  I leaned in and took his cock in my mouth.  He liked it. I worked it up - all 7.5".  Think inches, but still 7.5.

The cock went deep in my throat. I was aggressive at sucking, but he took my head into his hands for control. I have to remember who is a top and who is a pushy bottom.  I rather not be that guy, but some claim to be tops really have no idea, but this guy did.

We were there for about five minutes and he warned he was getting close. At this point I assumed it would be all mouth action, but he pushed me off his dick and asked me where I wanted the load.  I, again, deferred to him, but he wasn't having any of that.

"Where do YOU want the load?"    "Up my ass", came the reply.  He got a shit-eating grin on his face and in a second I was standing, pants still around the ankles and bent over the toilet.

While still taking a hit of poppers, he jammed his prick into my hole. I believe he had fucking skills, just not space or time to use them.

The man fucked me for another five minutes and asked, through his now shallow breath, "where do you want this load?"  Again, I said, up my ass.  He came back with, "are you sure?".   At that point, I reached behind me and found his belt loops, as his pants were not pulled down.  I grabbed a hold of those and pulled him into me.

That was all it took.  The man unloaded and unloaded and unloaded into my ass.  I could feel it - the twitching, the heat.

As his breathing started to regulate, the door opened. He signaled for me to be quiet, but anyone could have seen two sets of feet, both facing the same direction, in that stall.  The positioning of the feel would have easily indicated someone standing right behind someone else....so close, in fact, that they'd still be in them......which he was.

The bartender did not go soft. ...or at least, that soft.

Wouldn't you know it, the new occupant had to be the only person in a gay bar in the middle of the day who'd wash and blow dry his hands after peeing.  C'mon, you know most in a dump like that wouldn't - or wouldn't even know they should.

The bartender says he has to move because that was not the same customer that was out there.  He slips out of my ass and before he has a chance to see if he needs to tidy up, I go down on him for a minute. He seems grateful.

But he stuffs his softening cock back into his pants, no underwear and heads out.  I stay put for a minute and actually wash my hands.

I go back to the bar where my ginger ale is now watered down by the melted ice. I get a look from both patrons, but barely an acknowledgment from the bartender.

He got what he wanted. I got what I needed.

If he sees me on-line again and reaches out, that's great, but I won't stalk or bother him at all.

4 Times

The cock was 7.5"...maybe a bit longer. It was thick. It was slightly curved upwards.  I looked 'exactly' like this....

Maybe because it was the exact same cock.

He found me on A4A, but he was 30 miles away.  I kind of dismissed him after he reached out to me and I saw the distance. Yet he was persistent.  Very persistent.  ...and fuck if he didn't say all the right things.

45, 5'9, 180.  A decent build, but not great.  It was more his cock, his attitude, his cockiness that appealed to me.  Doesn't it always go that way when it comes to my preferences?

The apt was nice, but the bedroom was cramped and dark.  It didn't matter - soon I was on my knees deepthroating that fucking shaft, all the way to the balls.  He sipped his coffee while I did that. Engaged, yet detached.  A nice combo.

Within minutes we were on his bed. Or futon. It wasn't comfortable, but I wasn't there for comfort exactly.

He said he was an expert at getting his cock into an ass, and he was good. I might have undersold my experience, but he didn't need to know that. I've had a few up there, even his size.

I blossom for him, he sinks in. He bottoms out. He starts moving. All on his timetable, not mine.

If I am comfortable, or not, is not his concern. He moves at his pace, and that is a driving, motion that pulls back and dives forward. Drives forward.

My head hits against the cement wall - time and again.  Moving pillows behind it helps for about six thrusts then it is back to scalp on cement.  Oddly I am more ok with this than he is, but it's not my bedroom.

He sweats. A lot.  I'm guessing he's lost two liters in the two hours I'm eventually there - and most of it falls onto me, as I will always be below him.

The fucker plays with my nipples, which I know, and now he does, that my ass spasms around his buried cock. It also makes me weak. Weaker.  I'm already in a vulnerable position, but that's ok, I've put myself here.  He had something to do with it, but not most of it.

He wants to kiss.  I do not, but he insists and I'm in little position to argue.  His lips hit mine.

He likes the banter - about how much he likes to fuck.  How he'd never come in me without my permission. I know he's lying, but I can play that game.  I tell him, no matter what, to pull out of me before ejaculation. He changes the subject, to absolve himself of what will happen.

The first time - it is an hour. He barely loses rigidity even when he has to take a slight break. After he's back in, he's at full mast.  The fucking continues.  It feels good.  He finally "promises me" he won't cum in me.   That is, until he does.

His eyes close, his head goes slightly back and he makes those noises that don't actually form words. I can't feel the semen, but I feel every twitch of his cock.   The fuck has been an hour.

He stays in. He moves his dick to make sure his load goes deeper. I push back against his shaft. Clearly, I'm helping.

He doesn't withdraw.  He starts pumping. Harder this time.

"You want another load?"  

When I arrived he told me he could give me two, possibly three.  But after an hour with the first, I was kind of out of time....or close to it.  He ignored my thought of needing to leave.  He pushed forward.............and pulled back.   And repeat.

In 10 minutes, he was depositing load number two up my ass.  

He's taken his cock out and kissing me again.  He's still hard. Maybe he took ED pills before my arrival. Maybe he's like this. I don't know.

He tells me I have an invitation to come back - and he's put both invites up my ass.  He's rubbing my leg with his cock.  His still hard cock.

He slips a finger in my hole to make sure nothing is leaking out.  He's impressed with the grip I have that none of his seed is escaping.  I knew it wouldn't.  He replaces his finger with his cock - pushing his load deeper.

The pushing of the load becomes another round of fucking.  HARD fucking. My head is really hitting the wall.  His downstairs neighbors must hate him....or be in awe.  One of the two.  In another 7-10 minutes load three goes into me.

I can not tell the amount from 1, 2 or 3.  Does it matter?  It's all in there. Mixing.

He's out of me again.  We are at the absolute limit of time - I had had had to leave.  He had to work. But he's still fucking hard.  He's wiping his fucking dripping body with a towel, it seems to do little good.

He doesn't care about the time at this point - and I'm caring less.  "Pull your legs back".  I comply.  I've come this far - why not keep going?

For another 15 minutes he fucks me.  I think he couldn't possibly shoot again, yet he does.  The FOURTH time.

Maybe at this point he was shooting blanks - I have no idea.  But he was orgasming.  You could see it in his face and his body tensing.

He pulls out and stands next to the bed. He wasn't the only one tensed.  My legs were trembling involuntarily.  We had just hit hour #2.  My ass was sore - or at least tender.  He had been tenderizing it, making the tissue swell inside, for over 120 minutes, almost non-stop.

Again, he "claims" to not have actually cum in me.  He's back on that smart-ass kind of back and forth. He waves his cock 18 or so inches from my face to say, it's slick but it's not cum.  ...and if I wanted to make sure, I could get closer.

So I got closer.  And closer.  Soon my mouth was wrapped around the head.  Then further down the shaft.  Then down to the balls.

Yes, when you got to the base, it kind of had a hint of ass smell on the dick. I told him it didn't taste like ass. I told him it didn't taste like cum either.  He kept up the pretense then it must never actually happened.

However, the next morning, I ended up losing his loads, as I clearly held onto them for about 16 hours.

When I mentioned that to him via text, he told me they must have been someone else's and that I was  faggot for letting a guy shoot up my ass.     Nice touch.

I have been invited back, and while it's a long drive, I just might take him up on it.  Possibly next week.