He took a step into my house and exhaled.
Not as in a sigh, but as in, he had just taken a last huge drag of his cigarette before I opened the door, and wasn't nice or courteous enough to just finish outside.
I'm not thrilled with smokers anyways, let alone heavy ones - like, judging by the smell of his clothes, skin and the taste of his jizz (oops - spoiler alert), he was. But really, who the fuck thinks its ok to basically smoke in someone's house without asking? And I had the added bonus of the butt just tossed on my walk.
This guy and I have been playing Scruff-tag for years. I just assumed with him it was a game. Let's Tease the Faggot kind of thing. Or he was just all talk. But he was meeting someone at a bar and needed head badly he said. I told him, I don't give bad head. He headed over.
His leaving "right now" for a three mile drive took him 40 fucking minutes. Seriously. Maybe he had to stop for and smoke an entire pack of cigarettes before he pulled up. It sure smelled that way.
On Scruff, I was to address him as "Sir". I'm good with that. When he gets here, it's "Hi, I'm Jim". Well THAT was a mood killer. Sorry dude, I wasn't really interested in your name.
He was there, so you know I would follow through - or a pretty good chance I would. If you read this blog regularly, I rarely turn folks away. I power through the mediocre ones.....and sometimes even the bad ones.
"Jim" seemed nice enough, but I was ignoring the red flags. The tardiness, the smoking, the small cock..... Yes, I never ask their size because hopefully it doesn't matter. He wasn't teeny or anything, but I thought with all his bravado he might be bigger. I know there is no correlation, but a cocksucker can dream - right?
Still, there I was on my knees, working it like I treat every cock. I mean, I DO love to suck cock and I love the ability I have to draw a man's load out of his nut and into my mouth. There is a certain power there....even for a lowly bottom.
If I'm totally being honest - I was getting no read from the guy if I was doing a good job or a bad one. My other assumption was that if he needed this so badly, why wasn't I getting any feedback. I am totally fine with a guy telling me what not to do, as much as when another expounds positively upon my skills.
At some point, he wanted to fuck and I was ok with that. But after taking a hit of poppers, the man lost his hard on. Almost not amount of trying could get him hard again.
Then he was staying the herniated disk in his back was killing him and he couldn't stand. I didn't have the heart to tell him he put his dead down into the dog bed, but at that point, who really cared?
As he winced in pain, he jacked his cock. The jacking egasserbated his back, I'm sure.
He eventually sat in a chair to do it getting himself to the edge. The huge load no guy could handle was not a challenge. If anything, it was a little chunky. Not a thick load - well, it was - but actually chunky.
I gulped it down. What else was I gonna do?
He apologized profusely for not being able to perform correctly. He was hoping this wouldn't sully any future encounters. I promised him it wouldn't, though I wondered how I would put him off. As it would turn out, it might not be a concern.
I've never heard from him again.