Somethings on paper are better than reality.
6'6", 230, hairy, muscular, bald, ex-marine. What's not to like?
From the get-go, he called me "pup". Granted he was a little older but presented nice in pics. He was a self-professed dominant male. Again - what's not to like here?
He was a little into raunch - but I say that nicely. He wanted to wear a sweaty jock. That's ok with me, though I wouldn't say it was 'raunch'. I have a few myself - and I'm not raunchy......right????
The guy shows up to my hotel and he's a big guy. Solid. He doesn't look 4" taller than I am. He might be 6'4". Maybe. But he's solid.
He brought a harness for me to wear because he likes to yank faggots closer to them when he's feeding them his cock. My only problem with this is that it was out in the freezing car for ever so the leather and metal were chilling to my body.
Oh sure, slap me around. Face fuck me. Power drill my ass. No problem. Put cold metal and leather to me and I'm a fucking pussy.
As it turns out he was a little more raunchy than he said. Or even suspected himself. And it went back to that jock. Maybe he doesn't know what sweat-stained is. This was not. This was piss stained. No. No, it wasn't even that. This was something that looked, and worse, smelled, as if it had been residing in the bottom of a urinal for 4-5 months.
I'm good with bad smells, but this went beyond that. Way beyond bad. It was rancid.
Yet, I said nothing and he kept it on for the entire duration of his stay.
Yes, all was good on paper, until I found out his 4" cock wasn't going to grow anymore than 4". It was that size flaccid and only stiffened, but did not lengthen. 4" was all I was getting from a big beefy ex-marine who was still wearing his dog tags. Fuck.
And fuck is what we did. My mouth and my ass.
I suppose I could have ended it, as I was mentally disappointed from what was to be. He wasn't that verbally demanding. "Pup" was the only thing he called me.
I sucked his cock. He pulled on the straps. His strength showing as the harness would dig into my shoulder blades painfully. He didn't care, not that I told him it hurt or to stop. I'm a faggot, but I'm a man.
He shot a load in my mouth. Nice, but not overly substantial. Like with most guys, I thought it would end there. But not so.
He said he could cum two more times, but I wasn't sure I was ready for 8" of cock. 2x4=8. But he wanted to fuck me. That seemed like a better solution to me. He knew I liked the feeling of things on my ass, as he'd been toying with it while I sucked him originally.
He had me get on my back and lift my legs. I hate to be cliche about it, but the term "is it in yet" came to mind. I knew he was in, or around. but honestly, his two fingers were more fulfilling to me.
There was a look on his face as he fucked and eventually came in me. He was happy. I was feigning it. I know it sounds selfish, but I wanted more. If I get fucked, I want to FEEL fucked. But perhaps that is not my place. I'm there for them, not me.
Again, I thought that might be it. But he said he had another load and stuck his cock back up me almost immediately. My first thought was, I can't believe he's still hard. My second thought was, I don't know that he is still hard. I'm not a size queen - honest - but I could barely feel him. And I wasn't sure if he was performing most of those feeling inside or outside of my hole.
I will say, when he came, I felt it. Warmth. Heat. To the point of, I figured he ejaculated on the outside of my hole, but when I felt for it there, the load did not exist in that place.
He wanted me to cum and normally that is not my place, but this time, I don't think I could have if I had wanted to. I was so not in the mood and it was pushing close to check-out time and I had to be on the road.
He washed up. I pre-packed. Got him on his way, then got myself together and out the door.
1 comment:
It's nice to know there's still charity in the world.
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