Tuesday, September 30, 2014

1 of 5

I had been with him before. Just once. And it was good then.

Now here it was, a Saturday night in a hotel. He was not far from where I was staying, so it was an easy trip for him. I'd been drinking, though not drunk. I was relaxed.

Relaxed is fine, since the man sports a FAT 8.5" cock.  ...and I had no poppers. Truth be told, I'm rarely using poppers now. Regular breathing relaxes me and I don't get limp dick or a headache.

He was right on time. On one level, I felt the need to kiss him, but it didn't quite work. Kissing is more intimate than fucking and let's face it: this was a fuck.

I was already stripped when he arrived. He quickly did the same. With my jar of Albolene near the bedside, I rubbed some generously on his cock.

It's a little bit of a blur now, but I think we started with me on my back. To be fair, we ended up in most positions, other than me riding his cock.

Ok, I know I've been "active" lately, but I was pretty surprised how well I dilated that hole and how he sunk that big, fat cock into me with greater ease than I imagined. The beer probably did not hurt matters.

The hotel room had two beds. Sometimes I have sex in one and sleep in the other when I get a set-up like that. I was on my back when the squeaking started. That sound you hear in hotel rooms where, even if there is no verbal sound, you know someone is doing the nasty.

There was no headboard banging, just the mattress on a make-shift platform squeaking to the movement of the guy plowing my hole. All for anyone in room 148 to hear....or 246 or 250. Assuming people occupied those rooms.

I'm not a shy person, but I felt a little self conscious about the noise. I tried kneeling on the bed and the same thing happened. We went to the chair, where I knelt in it, with him tapping my ass from behind. That was ok, but still the chair moved with each thrust.

We even tried the floor, but the room was limited and the carpet was not comfortable. We opted to go back to the bed, the squeaking be damned.

At this point, we just went for it. Or he did. I was the recipient - as I should be - and just took the drilling like a good boy. I did my job by using my ass muscle to grip this thick shaft - and it seemed to resonate with him.

Before I knew it, he was flooding my hole with hot cum. And I took it like a champ.

And even though we were familiar with each other, it was just a different kind of parting of the ways. It was sex and nothing else and we both knew it. Still.....while not bad, it just seemed odd.

So be it. It was now past midnight and he had to get going.

And I was finding out I was still not sated. I went online to look for another opportunity.

Friday, September 26, 2014

I've Got a Great Tongue

I'm not bragging about my tongue. The short trick told me so.

I had, in fact, placed a CL ad that basically stated: "anyone can suck a cock.....but don't YOU deserve better??"

And honestly, it's the truth.

At least where I am, it's a fight to get to your knees or to the bottom. And it's all the same fucking ad(s) that are just 'renewed' daily. No imagination. No marketing. I thought I'd change that.

I've mentioned here before that I've written clever ads....and got almost zero response. People on CL M4M ads are not looking for clever. Or don't understand it. Or both. I was just trying to set myself apart from the hundreds of ads that are asking for cock.

So somewhere in the title, the word "WORSHIP" came into play.

That word actually weeded out a few of the wackos. And while it only got a two true people responding, they were indeed real contenders. I ended up meeting both of them. This is one of their tales.

"Tony" was about 5'6", slim build, married, Italian man, but not very hairy. 7", nice sized thickness. Honestly, it wasn't bad that he had to schedule out days in advance. "Worship" was not necessarily about immediacy, or shouldn't be. It showed we were both serious about the meet-up.

He arrived right on time and ready.

He dropped his pants and took his shirt back over his head, though it remained on hanging on his shoulder blades. I went to my knees and lightly rubbed my face against his still-briefed crotch. Immediately, he started to stiffen and grow within that cotton prison. He started to pull them down and I pushed his hands away. That was for me to take care of.

I gnawed a little on the pouch, but didn't soak it, as I knew someone at home might see it. I'm a thoughtful cocksucker. Soon enough, my thumbs were in there, pull them down.

I purposefully made eye contact as I did this, as part of the worship. The cock would be serviced either way - small or large. It was about making the connection that I was on my knees looking up at him and more importantly, he was looking down at me: literally and figuratively.

Nor was I going right to sucking his cock. Anyone can do that. Most everyone does do that.

No, I took the tip of my tongue and gingerly made it dance along the underside of his shaft - gong from base to tip. It made his rod twitch and jump.

I slowly licked the sides of his cock too and even the top before lightly touching the head with my tongue. He was moaning in pleasure and possibly a little frustration. But he wanted worship. He had had blowjobs. Still, the mindset, of most guys (I think), is that a cocksucker is to get right to the job.

Of course, I eventually enveloped the head of his cock. But just the head. I let both of us savor the feeling from two very different perspectives.  Slowly, but surely, I sank my lips down to his crotch - skin touching skin.......and pubes.

I let that sit back at the edge of my throat for at least a minute.....letting him know I had him all in me. Letting me adjust to the cock, as it did get thicker as you headed toward the base. But I liked to feel the weight of the shaft, the feel of the cock, filling up my mouth. I wanted him to know realize where it was and what was truly going on.  ....and yes, of course, I looked up at him, while he looked down.

All the while I'm using the tips of my fingers to barely touch his legs.....all the way up and down. It's a very sensual move that most guys do not experience and it heightens the blowjob experience. Try it. Trust me.

As I moved slowly and deliberately up and down his cock, I made my tongue move on the underside of his shaft. You could feel his appreciation in the throb of his dick. You could hear it in his moans as well.

Since he was sitting in a chair at this point, I went lower. To his balls. Licking them, not sucking. He loved that too. But not as much as when I went to flick my tongue on his 'taint.  It is a highly sensitive area on most guys - and underutilized by eaters.

I'm not sure if he expected me to go further south, but I did. I tongue worshipped his hole too. Licking. Eating. Flicking. Tickling. You name it. He was in fucking heaven.

Somewhere during all this is when he told me I had a great tongue.

At this point, he stood up, placed me between his thighs and the wall and fucked my face. I'd been working on him for almost 50 minutes. He liked the worship, but now he wanted his reward.

Trust me, I wanted it too. I'm not exactly doing this for charity. I wanted the white gold. He was all too happy to give it to me.

I don't know when he came last, but it was a fucking huge load. Thankfully, he wasn't sensitive after he came and let me nurse that dick for a while. I made sure to milk out every drop, squeezing it gently with my mouth and jaw.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014


We're pushing 600 blog posts here and sad (?) to say, this isn't even scratching the surface of the amount of guys I've been with, let alone the number of loads.

But for all those guys, even if we stayed in that 600 number, very few, if any, have been red-haired.

Yes, I know they are of a more rare breed in general, but when you narrow it to gay tops or feeders, the subset is quite quite small.

You'd think I'd remember if I ever have had the pleasure of a ginger, but I honestly do not remember. And there is always a chance that some guy on the other side of a gloryhole had hair like Bozo the Clown, but that is the beauty and curse of truly anonymous sex.

But I have definitely bagged one.  Just the other day, in fact.

35. 6 foot. Maybe 210. Hairy. Full red beard. From his Scruff pic, I knew he had a green start inked on the side of his neck. As it would turn out, he had a lot more ink as well.

Generally, I assume ginger's to have less body hair. This guy had a shaved head, but a fairly hairy chest and shoulders. The rest of him had hair too, but not as much.

It was to be a blow n go. It was his day off and he had things to do. So did I.

I arrived at his suburban house. He took me into a basement bedroom, which made me wondering if he still lived with his parents and they were out.

He was shirtless but had on casual cotton.....not pajama bottoms, but you know what I mean. Nothing on under those, as he untied them and let them drop to the floor. His 6.5" cock, thick was hard. Standing straight out. He was as ready to receive this blowjob as I was ready to give it.

While I was going to my knees anyways, he placed his hands on my shoulders ensuring I'd make the journey safely. In seconds, I was on his basement bedroom floor, my mouth an inch from his cock.

Being the tease I can be - or the tantalizing cocksucker, depending on how you view it - I didn't go right to enveloping the shaft. No. I took my tongue and lightly traced alone the underside of his rod, making it quiver and pulse.

Only upon going back up to the head did I part my lips to take in the head....and then below.....and then below.....until I hit his thick red bush.

He took one hand and placed it on the back of my head. He wasn't quite guiding me nor restraining me. It was there to do either of those two things should he think I wasn't doing my job correctly or if he didn't want me to stop doing what I was doing.

Fair enough. He didn't know me from Adam. I could easily be one of those guys who pulls back at the last minute. Or I could be a newbie cocksucker who didn't figure out what he liked or what he didn't, and needed some kind of oral education.

He cooed his praise, or something similar. He didn't say I was doing a great job, but talked dirty to me. Talked down to me.

With both hands on my shoulders, he told me there were some men who were born to be on their knees, and some who were born to stand in front of them. I'm not too proud to admit, that I unbuttoned my jeans to feel my now rock hard cock at that statement.

Now and then, the hand on the head would tighten. I would notice the slow acceleration of his hips as he eased me into what would become a full-on face fucking.

"You like to be face fucked".   It wasn't a question.

It would have been rhetorical anyways. I didn't respond anyways. I kept doing my job.

Once or twice he pushed me back to lick his nuts. Not because he wanted his nuts lapped at (though he didn't mind it) as he was getting closer than he wanted to. He was getting closer than I wanted him too. Anticipation of a guy getting his nut is just as important as actually getting it.  At least from where I kneel.

But I knew this was a blow and go, though I had temporarily forgotten about that. So did he, it seemed. We were both drawing out the inevitable.

I went back to being face fucked....or alternately doing my lip and tongue dance on his cock while he lorded above me.

But he went back to taking over and my beard was being pummeled by his short hairs.

"You're gonna take it".

I love he didn't ask me if I wanted to.

I don't know how long it had been since he came, but it was a lot of fucking cum. Not that I missed a drop, mind you.  There was minimal taste, but it was the capturing of the load, his load, that was important - to him and to me.

I licked my lips. I licked him clean. I stood, buttoned myself up and found my way to the door....after thanking him, of course.

I'm nothing if not a gracious cocksucker.

Friday, September 19, 2014


He was tall by anyone's standards:  6'11"

Yes - let that sink in for a moment.

He towered over me by 9". That's a lot. But in reality, he towered over me by like 5 feet. As soon as he arrived, he pointed to the ground. I knew that was where he wanted me anyways. On my fucking knees.

Yes, 6'11". 300 lbs.

The weight seems outrageous, but he potentially had the frame to carry it off. I think at one point, he probably did. No doubt a football star in high school....maybe college. He had let some of that 300 pounds go. It was probably never super tight, but it was less so at this point.

And yes, he was black. Black as the dead of night.  And claims of a thick 8.5" cock.

As the post title says: Imposing.

Let's get this right off the table. He was maybe 7". Not 8.5". He was thick, so I'll give him that. He started off small so as he started to grow, I was hopeful. Alas, 7. Not 8.5.

He leaned right up against the wall and tilted his head back. While now and again he looked down to see his solid black rod passing my pink lips and and white mouth, much of the time his head was back and eyes were closed.

I don't know if this was a DL kind of guy, but I assumed he was. He like the oral stimulation, but perhaps not as much the visual one. It's one thing to feel the warm, wet mouth clamping around your cock - it's another knowing a dude is the one providing that service.

Of course, this is my own interpretation.

However, just as easily, the work 'cocksucker' would roll off his tongue. He was clearly ok to do that, thus acknowledging some guy was on his knees in front of him.

But making a guy feel dirty for sucking your own dick probably makes some feel better. I hope it does. It totally makes me hard to hear it.

I didn't do anything special. Tongue. Lips. Mouth. Throat. The usual, though I know I have experience to work a rod.

He blew in my mouth - and just like his cock size, the load was not nearly as big as he thought. It was ok. It tasted ok.

I was just hoping for more of....well.....everything.....from a guy that size.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Tennis 3

Tennis players are iffy "lovers" at best.

At least that's my experience in the last month. This is the last of my tennis series, for sure.

#3 was staying in a flea-bag hotel. I've lived here a long time and didn't know this place existed. I felt like I was getting bed bugs just pulling into the parking lot and not convinced my car would be there upon my return.

He was 5'7", blonde, smooth, maybe 6.5". Claimed to be masculine. I had to ask after the softball player. He claimed to be very much so.  So off I went to scary hotel-land.

I knocked three times before he answered. Actually, I would end up saying most thing three times as it turns out he was deaf and his hearing aid was on the bedside table - which I saw as I was leaving.

Tennis players are iffy at being in-shape too.  Two of the three didn't look like they could run around a court for an hour - let alone longer - at a time, in the scorching heat. He was one of the two.

He was fine and all, but nothing outstanding. A little short for me, but what the hell.

He said little, which was fine, but couldn't hear when telling him to go harder, or deeper or you're missing the hole by an inch. He claimed to be into verbal, but that is really difficult when you can't hear your partner.

Like I said, his 6.5" was fine. He knew how to thrust, but I wouldn't have minded if he had been a little more aggressive. I know since he was shorter, he had a difficult time with angle and thrust.

It took longer to drive there then it did to fuck me. And it wasn't even that long of a drive.

He had me on my back and then ass up on the side of the bed. It was there he drove it home and grunted a little as he unloaded up my ass.

I know this post is uninspired, but so was the meet-up. As I tell you, they're not all winners.  You know how it is with me, you get the winners and the losers.

Keep the faith though - I think I have some winner stories coming up soon. I'm just behind in posting.

Monday, September 08, 2014


He was in town to play softball.

Everything about him was butch.

His pics. Dressed up in and out of leather.

His stats.  6'2", 190, furry, salt and pepper beard, shaved head, good body, 7".

His Scruff exchanges were both coy and direct. Playful and dirty.

...but then he stepped out of the elevator. "Stepped" might be too masculine a term. "Flitted" might be too feminine of one....but just slightly. And then he opened his mouth to speak. UGH.

Hot to look at, but any posturing of being butch went out the door when the gums flapped.

Ok, I know that sounds judgmental and I know I set myself up for this, making assumptions of what a softball player who just won a gold medal should be like. Or what I thought he should be like.

His pics had him in a tight tshirt and chaps. Of course, while I think chaps are the sign of a hot top man, chances are they are just a form of drag and that could have, or should have, been my first clue. But lust overtook logic and I met him at his hotel.

Still, I was there, so I figured, 'why not'.

I went up to his room, with his roommate gone, I dropped my shorts and pulled off my shirt. For the moment he remained clothed. Slowly things were removed to show his 7".

Oddly, there was little foreplay - at least on my part. He did get me back on the bed and pushed my legs back to eat my ass. I love eating ass and having my ass eaten, but this guy was only ok at it. To be fair, he was fine - but I've had such great ass-eatings in the past, I want everyone to be that good.

It was then that he reached for the lube.........and a condom.  Damn.

Not my style but I let him do it.

We fucked that way for a while, but it was hard to be excited about it. I mentioned that it wasn't feeling that good and he tried more lube, but when I said we might have to stop because of a little irritation, he didn't hesitate much to pull it off and push back in me.

He was good at fucking, but insisted on talking - which, truth be told, took the eroticism out of taking it up the ass by an athlete in a hotel room. I kept waiting and hoping for his roommate to show up. He never did.

I didn't see or expect him to be getting close, but he did. He was. And while he didn't pull out to cum, he pulled back so his head was just in my hole. I'm not sure what that was about, but I was ok with it. I had to be.

I jacked off too - just because it had been forever since I came.

You can see part of my load closer to my balls, as it leaked down.

You can see his seeping out of my hole. This pic was almost worth the entire scenario.


As soon as we were done, I was pretty much dressed and gone from there. Nothing great, but nothing terrible. I just need to level my expectations.

Tuesday, September 02, 2014

Tennis 2

Tennis player #2 was much more athletic looking than the first.

He was 36, 6'4", maybe 190, but furry, solid muscle, bearded. He also had twisted his ankle enough that it took him out of competition and he was lonely in a hotel room south of the city with no transport.

It didn't hurt his screen name was something like HungHairyItalian. I kind of focused on the 'hung' part.

He was younger, but not young. He should have been old enough to know that 11 miles away doesn't mean around the corner. Old enough to know that he reaches out to fuck 'now', but also wants you clean - so that doesn't mean you're necessarily ready now. And should me mature enough not to pout about it.

His impatience was not appreciated, though I tried to accommodate him on every level with realistic times and expectations.

At first he turned me down - from his own request, Maybe he couldn't find anything better, or anyone willing to travel to his more remote location, so I got hit up again. And away I went.

He never told me how hung he was, nor did he show me via pics. I also did not ask.

It might sound weird, but I rarely ask how big it is. I'm always hopeful, but I don't take stock in their answers or even the pics they show. I've been mislead more than a time or two.

I was nicely surprised when I got to his hotel. His face was much more handsome than his pic. I certainly liked that he was taller than me. He only had on boxer shorts and those were soon off.

His cock grew to almost 8.5, which is way more than admirable. But it was his girth that was so impressive. Thick from head to base, but there was even a thicker inch or so maybe an inch below the bulbous cock head.

Thick head. Slightly thinner shaft. THICKER shaft. Slightly thinner after that...all the way down to the base.

I'll be honest, I would have loved foreplay, but this guy wasn't about that - in his texts or in person, plus he had a check-out time in less than an hour and it looked liked his luggage had exploded.

During our brief on-line exchange, all he wanted was to bend someone over, or possibly doggie-style fuck. That's it. Nothing else.

His boxers were off, my shorts dropped to my ankles, only taking off one leg to make sure I could spread the way he needed, but not even committing to staying long enough to drop them completely off.

He lubed up as I bent over, putting my palms on the second bed which was still made-up.

Since I've really tried cutting out (or at least back on) poppers, I had none with me, focusing solely on my breathing. It worked well enough for him to pop in and I had to really concentrate as he went in over that second, thicker, ridge.

Once he made it past that, sinking in was all there was left to do. And he sunk until I could feel his chest on my back and the front of his thighs pressed against the back of mine.

For a man who supplied that much cock, his talent could have been better. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't bad, but maybe he had lack of trial and error due to the fact that maybe a few guys couldn't quite take him all the way.

Maybe he was new to topping. I don't know.

I've always said, just because you have a big cock doesn't mean you shouldn't know how to fuck. However, I kind of left that at the door when he put it up my back one.

As unfortunate as it sounds - and was - my one-way drive time was three times longer than his fuck.

But he said it had been six days, and I tended to believe him. He buried it and just let it throb. I could feel each pulse of his rod on my nerve endings. He awakened them all. It felt good. It felt right. It felt necessary.

He wasn't one for keeping his cock in me, unfortunately. Because, that was one dick I would have liked to feel in me for a while before gravity took over. But again, he got what he wanted and had a check-out time.

It was easy enough to pull up my shorts, still around at least one ankle, and take three flights down to the lobby - and I was gone.