I once wrote here that I told Mr. Steed that if I hadn’t blogged for more than 2-3 weeks that I was probably dead.
Either I misspoke, or I have risen. Or I’m a zombie.
I apologize for my absence, but life and work – mostly work – has gotten the better of me. It’s not thatI’m not having sex, or that I don’t have a backlog of stories. I just have had little to no personal time. I am trying to rectify this, that is assuming anyone is even still looking here for an entry. But here is one.
He’d seen me on Scruff a few times before. Once I started a new job, his proximity to me dwindled to a few hundred feet at times. I surmised he worked where I did, or close by. Now and then we’d exchange pleasantries, but neither of us pushed for a meet-up. I think one time we did, but I deduced he might bottom more than top…..or was involved with someone else…..or both.
We will call him “Josh”.
Josh is all of 28 years old. 5’9” and 180. He’s married, presumably to a woman, but who know. I didn’t ask. He didn’t off. I didn’t really care. He’s also a pharmacist. This I figured out on my own.
Josh was working over one day not long ago. Pulling an extra long shift (that’s shift, not shaft) and had a short window for a break. He was wondering if my services were available. I made clear my services at this time were oral – no reciprocation needed. He said he’d be there in 10.
Sure enough, there he was in the hallway of my office.
Oh yes, I was still at work also. Suit and tie. Early in the evening, no one around save me. Me and my
lips. And mouth. And throat.
He was excited from the start. You could see the tent in his scrubs. Easy to feel too. He was fully erect.
I love scrubs. One pull of the tie at the waist and they almost always fall to the floor. These were no
exception. He stood there – unsure of where to be – as I put my palm and fingers over the mound of his plaid underwear.
I didn't even pull those down. I pried his cock out the opening in the front. This was a place of business, not a place to get completely stripped down for extended pleasure. He was on his break, I was needing to shut down the place.
Out popped a nice 6" cock. Decent thickness with a good head.
....and speaking of good head, I gave it to him. He tried not to moan. He knew the surrounding environment, even though I was 99% sure no one was around. Yet he'd make little gasps at my tongue swirled around his corona, or as it danced on the underside of his shaft as I simultaneously took him to the root. I wasn't fooling around here.
I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted him to enjoy it. But I wanted to fucking get him off. He wanted it too.
He wasn't fooling around either. The way he grabbed my head and fucked my face, I was rethinking my perception of him being a bottom anything. As for the married to a man or a woman, it could still go anyway. But he was a man who liked head and knew how how he liked it.
Or he knew he liked treating me like a mouth. A convenience. And I have zero issues with that.
If he wanted to get a little rough with me, I was ok with that. He must have been ok with that too, because with no words said, he grabbed my tie and used it as leverage to feed my mouth.
He was aggressive, but I felt he was testing me, and to a degree, himself. I think he was seeing how far he could go. I'm sure he did not have any idea how far he could take this - given the right circumstances. Yet it was all a good start.
He kept up with the tie or hand on my head until he muttered he was going to shoot. He asked if I wanted the load, I said nothing and he kept on pumping. My silence was acknowledgement and agreement as far as I was concerned. And I'm guessing he thought the same, though I always hope that guys never take 'no' for an answer.
The load was huge. It had a lingering aftertaste, but there was a lot of spooge that I caught on my tongue to show him before I swallowed. I don't know if guys like to see their volume or their seed, but it is my instinct to show them, with me assuming they are proud of what they did, what they produced.
And it is almost if he reads this blog. He reached out to hold my throat - though far too gently. He stroked it in what I'm assuming was to stimulate my reflex to get me to swallow. His profession is one in which he gets people to take medications.
I just happened to get the elixir of "love".