Loathing

I've written about him before. Here and Here.

I used to say that he was distant. Aloof maybe. I might reassess though. He might just be a dick.

After the fuck (the second hyperlink), I never heard from him again. We are talking almost four full years ago. I have seen him around town here and there, but to say I got the cold shoulder would be saying the iceberg that took down the Titanic was just a cube.

I think I could have made him go into a mad dash had I attempted more than a nod - a nod that would never be returned. I don't think it possible for him to acknowledge my presence....or existence.

Years had passed until an acquaintance brought up his name in another context. Yes, I knew his name, but accidentally.  This friend asked if I thought he was "a bit off". I said from my little experience he was - but then I got a detailed version of an encounter he had - a non-sexual one.  Then this friend asked why I thought he was 'off'.

I hesitated for a second before deciding to get into detail I usually only write about here. But since this friend doesn't know about the blog (I don't think), I have him a slightly more sanitized version. He was fascinated. As he should be.

Maybe like saying 'Voldemort' out loud, talking about him summons him, as not a week later that he pings me on Grindr or all apps. His profile image was a super duper close up of his chest. No face pic. Nothing to distinguish it was him. Then he sent me a face pic- and a cock pic.

My guess is, he sent them to me before he realized he'd done the nasty with me a number of times before. But unlike Outlook, there is no retracting a message that easily.

What was done was done. And since he continued with me, I would say he was more horny than anything. One of those times he thought he could overlook history to get his dick off. And you've all read enough of me that I've dealt with a lot worse to get a load.

I got home about 10 minutes before he came over. He literally pushed his way in and past me, remembering the place we had done the nasty in the past. Not a word was said.  You could just feel his sense of loathing. I could. I'm guessing, given the chance, Helen Keller could have.

He was all business, which is fine. I think somewhere in his mind he thought I wanted more from him. I never had. I never will. Or, now as I type this, maybe that's what pisses him off - that I really don't have feelings for him one way or the other. Clearly, I'm triple guessing myself.

By the time I got into the room, he already had his pants unhooked and pants partially down. His shirt was pushed up showing his very clipped chest. This reminded me how he liked to have his chest played with......but I got it wrong.

I went at it with my hands, but he wanted mouth only on his chest. A mouth on a chest keeps it off his cock. That seems unfair.

As it turns out, he was more into using his hand to get himself started while I worked his chest. You could feel the uncomfortableness of his situation. He was here, but was hating me for it - or himself. Or both.

I shouldn't have been surprised that I was only on his dick - as beautiful as it is - for less than a minute when he dumped his load.

What I also forgot was his sensitivity. He barely got two rounds off and pushed me off. More cum went onto the floor and my cupped hand (hey, I didn't want to stain the berber) than into my mouth.

I swear to you - he didn't even finish cumming when he started walking out, and pulling up his pants as he went opened the door and went down the stair. His shirt was still pushed up as he made it into the freezing temps - not even bothering to shut my front door.

In certain ways, I laughed at his behavior. In other ways, I was more offended by it.  Let's face it, I've had some guys say some nasty things to me while I'm taking care of their needs. I've had straight guys in video booths ignore my existence while down on my knees.

I think Jim (no quotes) just hated me. Loathed my existence and what I did for him. Maybe he loathes himself too - for what he does, allows others to do or who they are.

I've never truly felt bad about sex before - and while it was only a fleeting feeling, it kind of pissed me off.

Now I just want to fuck with him (not literally) the next time I see him.   Maybe I will.

Safe / Unsafe

A guy, a bear, I had seen on Grindr a number of times reached out to me…..finally. I had complimented him in the past with no interaction. So either he just realized I was alive or had finally gotten to the bottom of the barrel. I can live with either, I suppose.

In his previous profile it was just him. Now his profile picture had him and another man – another bearish kind of guy – next to him. It would turn out to be his husband.

He reached out to me and wondered if I was interested in a 3-way. Well, DUH! Then he said he really wanted to watch as I fucked his husband.

Sigh.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wanted them to tag team me, but that wasn’t in the cards. But I was intrigued by him pimping out his husband to a stranger. And one who gets off on watching said husband get used and seeded by that stranger. If I had a guy egging me on, topping could be better, right? You already know I agreed to go, or there wouldn’t be this entry.

Texts were exchanged. Some detailed discussion. And after a few days then the pimp guy say, “we play safe only, so you’ll need a rubber”. Fuck. Still, I agreed to go.

After much back and forth, one Sunday morning I was knocking on their door. Both guys were as advertised. Actually, in some regards they looked alike. One had a rounder face and slightly less hair, but overall, they kind of resembled each other. 5’7” ish, dark hair, a little bearish. The pimp daddy greeted me while the other finished prepping. Squeaking clean was what I was told.

He appeared and upstairs we went. Pants were dropped, shirts came off. The sub-husband went to his knees and started sucking me. Dom-husband came over and kissed me. I was hardening nicely. The sucking went on for a while, but I was in no danger of unloading. I suppose it is important to mention that it had been 4+ weeks since I had ejaculated. This was something of which both were informed.

When time came to bone the boy, he stood up. I took this opportunity to drop to my knees and take his nice, but average cock into my mouth.  His partner moved closer, and for a short while I took them both into my mouth while they kissed.

Soon, the boy bent over the bed and waited. The dom-husband provided me the rubber. I accepted that I would be wearing it and it was an ok fit at first. I never thinking any of them fit that well. They always wrinkle and bunch up – and that can before you even start the in-and- out motion.

It’s me – and you’ve read about me topping – so while I was pretty hard, I wasn’t solid hard. So it took some work to get it in his hole. It was a nice hole too. Warm. Inviting. Tight but clearly not virgin. After I was in, I was fine, at least for a while.

Dom husband went from my side to going in front of his better half and presenting his cock to him. The guy on all fours took it eagerly. I egged on for him to fuck his face….and he did, but not nearly as much as I think he might had he not known him, let alone been married to him. Still, it was kind of hot.

As for egging on, I was hoping the dom guy would really want his hubby used. And maybe he did, but I never quite got the green light for that. He wasn’t nearly as verbal as I had hoped. I suppose I had expectations that if one is going to pimp out a guy, you want to see another guy just take him. Maybe that part is on me.

It was at this point, my cock slipped out of his hole. I was only semi hard and the rubber just was all bunched up. The husband offered me a new baggie, but I declined saying I’d make this work. I asked him to play with my nipples and he came behind me to do it. That always gets me to stiffen, and I did. The rubber got tighter for sure, but still creased. I tried to stretch it out as much as possible while also getting more lube. The bottom stayed in place, like a good boy. I could also feel the dom husband’s dick behind me as he leaned in to play with my nips. That helped my hard-on too.

With my left hand holding the small of his back, and the right on my dick, I guided myself back into the boy. His head went to the mattress. At first I thought it was my imagination, but in fact the dom was closer to me while still feeling my chest. I pumped, I kept feeling his cock against my crack.

"Fuck him”, said the dom. "He can never get enough cock."  Nice. Just what I wanted to hear. The bottom moaned, loudly. The dom leaned in more, his mouth right to my left ear, “shhhhhhhhhh”, in a way that no one else could have possibly heard other than me. Then I felt it.

Slicked up and raw, dom hubby slid his medium sized cock up my ass. I said nothing. I breathed no differently. I didn’t yelp. I stopped my fucking motion for about 10 seconds and then started, pulling out while backing up onto the pole behind me. It wasn’t elegant and he couldn't pound away. Honestly I could not tell if the bottom in front of me knew what was going on, or if this had been planned.

I started peppering the sex talk with vague comment that could go to either party: “how does that fucking feel?” “you like that?!”. “fuck that feels amazing”. I think everyone was getting out of this what they wanted.

While he hadn’t fucked as long as I, and no words were spoken, I could feel that cock pulse in my ass. I felt the throbs, though not the cum. At this point, he was telling me to pump that ass. He was finishing and I think he either wanted me to do the same or possibly cover up what was literally going on behind his husband’s back.

I started to make my getting close sounds. He slipped out of me and stood by my side, “stroking” his dick. “Pull out and cum all over him!” I slid out and the rubber just kind of stayed clenched in his ass, that’s how loosely it remained. The bottom flipped over, showing his treasure trail and chest hair. Two strokes later, I was unloading 4+ weeks of sperm all over the guy. The top loved it. The bottom said nothing. He stroked but did not cum.

The sub husband immediately got up and went into the bathroom to clean up. I didn’t even bother wiping my dick. I reached for my shirt and jeans. The bottom was never to make another appearance. The top winked at me and said softly, “our little secret”.

He escorted me downstairs and let me out. I haven’t heard from them since, nor do I expect another invite.

Turd Ferguson

Before committing this to the blog, or if I was even going to, I was telling a trusted friend this tale. I told him of my hesitancy and he insisted that I had to write it. I’m doing it, yet I am not so sure. Yet, here we go…….

I was walking the beach on a beautiful sunny day when I got pinged on Scruff. He was 0.23 miles away, which in theory isn’t far, but that is as the crow flies. It is much longer when you are walking and there are side roads and long winding driveways.

Normally I don’t show who I have hooked up with here (save a flash of a body part now and then), but for one thing, I’m never ever ever gonna see this guy again. And secondly, it will put into context why I agreed to leave the sandy shore and go to see him.

I don't normally attract guys who look like this.  Maybe it should have been my first clue.

The usual on-line exchange happened – nothing out of the ordinary other than he really liked to eat ass. I mentioned it was one of my fave things to do. He liked to munch ass before he fucked. I’m down with that. He mentioned he even had a rim seat. I’m down with that too. But as it was a beach town, I did think ‘who the fuck travels with a rim seat?’

The crow and my feet are two different thing: that .23 miles is like a 25 minute walk. The house was secluded…..up winding side streets and up longer driveways…..or mud paths, as the case may be. I felt the need to be covered in Deep Woods Off. It was also a good place for a body to disappear. Yet….here I was….and I kept going.

Mr. Muscle was exactly has he advertised, in the looks department. Handsome. Good body. His dick wasn’t hard yet, but……….at this point, I could live with whatever it turned out to be. We went inside, but hell, no one could see us where we were and I do love outdoor sex. But no. Into the house/cabin we went. He was wearing thin, threadbare tighty whities.

I find out he doesn’t just have a rim seat but a sling too. Ok. I’m into that.

The guy seemed a little manic. I wondered if he was on anything, and he might have been. He wasn’t so off the charts that I felt I needed to go. He was fooling with something on the bed and bent over just so. I ran my hand over his cotton-covered ass, knelt down and pulled them down just so. He remained still and waiting at this point. I parted his cheeks and licked his crack. Then I dug in. He moaned. He wiggled his ass in my face, pushing back so I could be engulfed by his butt.

If you rim, you realize the risks. Or you should. Sometimes you find about them the hard way, like a parasite you might pick up and leaves you and your GI tract useless for days. Or you taste unclean hole, despite all their efforts……………IF they make efforts, that is. But it’s like scaling Everest, you know the risks, yet you persist for a greater purpose. Or maybe I’m just kidding myself.

So I’m tongue fucking this guy and he’s moaning. But I’d find out he’s not moaning for exactly the same reason I am.

My tongue is about to make another run up into his lower colon when I right before I dive in, I see that while I’m going in, he’s coming out. The turtle head.

My reactions are lightning fast. I jump back. “NOOOOO dude, I am SO NOT into that!!!!!”

He kind of apologized and didn’t go use the restroom, so I guess he just pulled it back in? So he leads me over to the rim seat……

At this point the friend to whom I’m telling this story laughs and screams, “YOU STAYED??????”

It was only then I realized how perverted this all sounded. And it led to my decision almost not to tell the tale.

But stay I did. And when we went to the rim seat it was I who sat and he who scooted under. And I’ll give him this, he ate hole like a champ. He was getting it wet and sloppy for fucking. Aces!

I’d like to say I should have known better, but I wasn’t quite thinking in this regards either….or just blocking it out. He started moaning, asking me to take a dump in his mouth. Involuntarily, my ass clenched, keeping anything I had in my bowels firmly in place.

Still (!), I stayed. Still he ate. And every few minutes would beg. I felt my defenses being chipped away. I’d think to myself, “what is the harm?” I wasn’t the one who was going to eat it. If I didn’t have to see it, should I care? Would just knowing it happened completely freak me out?

I tried to talk myself into by saying in my head, “it’s one of the few things I have NOT yet done, and wouldn’t I regret a missed opportunity, no matter how disgusting I found it.” Part of me truly knew that answer. Part of me – a small part – thought “eh….why not?”.

Mind you, I’m the kind of guy who would is a bit private about my bathroom routine. Sure, I’ll have sex in a bathroom stall, but for anything else in there, I’d just prefer no one was in the room at all – should it be public. Even at home alone, the door is closed during.

See? I can be shy and demure.

Yet here I was, in a rim seat with a hot guy below me making my ass feel great with his mouth. Silently, without verbalizing a thing, I attempted. ….and attempted. …..and attempted. I’m assuming that he was right under me, he had to see some physical manifestation of my trying to give him what he wanted.

I’m still not 100% sure if it was my body or mind that couldn’t produce a thing for him. Probably a combo. While my conscious self seemed to be open to the idea, the subconscious side of me wasn’t allowing it. Mr. Muscle Shit Eater was not thrilled with this. Of course, I’m thinking: c’mon – how many time do your hook-up actually get into this, let alone do the deed?

So soon it was onto the bed. While he wasn’t nice about it and it was a rough fuck, he did come through with his part of the bargain. He pumped my hole in a harsh and fast manner. I think it took him all of two minutes to come and it didn’t seem all that pleasurable for him. If I’m being honest, I think he just did it to get me the fuck out of there.

.......and that is why I stayed.

Married Baby

The first thing I noticed were the number of wedding pictures lining the ascent of the staircase. This was after I approached his door and it magically opened as I got near. He was watching and waiting for me. He was anxious….but not necessarily in a bad way.

I had been at an off-site office when his message popped up via Grindr. There was no photo, but a good description and he wanted a blowjob. Better yet, he was on my way home, so why the fuck wouldn’t I do it?

As he took me to an almost unfurnished guest room / storage room, I noticed that he was in every single one of the wedding pictures. He wasn’t a guest or a best man…..no, he was the groom. And looking from the looks of the house, it was their first. I’m not sure, but I’m pretty positive that he had not been married long, as he was only 28 – or so his profile said.

He was also 6’3”, 190. Not muscular. Not fat. It would turn out he had a nice cock – that he was giving his wife………….and me. It wasn’t anything off the charts, but a thick-ish 7 inches.

Married Guy stood there and I went to my knees. I did the standard of licking his peen below the shaft, then the sides before enveloping the head………which all comes before sinking down to his pube triangle. He was tense……and quiet.

I got it. Here I was, in his house, the one he shares with his wife, blowing him.

He speaks: “you like sucking your boy?”

As my mouth if full, I nod. I’ve come to the realization that he could be young enough to be my ‘boy’. At least he didn’t call me ‘daddy’.

Yeah, you like blowing your little boy, don’t you”. While I continue to suck, I pulled off long enough to say, “oh yeah I do”.

There is a pause. His nerves again. I’m thinking he’s too pent up to ever relax and enjoy this head I’m giving him.

He speaks again: “you like having your mouth on your baby boy’s dick”.

My antennae goes up. It was the road he was going down. It was the way he said ‘baby’. We were – or he was – no longer in father / son role playing. Well he was, just in a very very different stage than I anticipated or with which I was comfortable.

I know this was just fantasy, but it made me mildly uneasy. That said, I never took my mouth off his cock. It had grown to a nice size and good thickness. Why would I pass up this opportunity because this guy’s mind takes him places. Hell, he might cringe at some of my fantasies. Actually, I know he would.

He moved over to the guest bed and laid back on it. He draped an arm over his face and eyes. His cock says he was enjoying the blowjob, though in reality part of his arousal might have been due to my mouth, but most of it might have been whatever he was thinking in his head.  Again, he's voice something about being a "baby", a few times over.

I have no illusions that it is all my skill level. I will cop from time to time, when topping, that my mind might go to a previous hot encounter with someone to help take me over the edge or to remain erect. It would be foolish to think others don’t do the same. As a bottom, I’m always in the moment. It’s hard not to be when there is a cock up your ass or trying to cut off your air.

He was moaning for sure. Whimpering almost. I wasn’t sure if that was a ‘him’ thing or if he was channeling his ‘baby boy’ persona. I suspect the latter. In my mind, I also figured there was a box somewhere in that house that contained some kind of diaper he’d wear when his new wife was not around.

While he harbored this baby boy fantasy (?), his cock was all man. As it turns out, so was his load. Huge amounts of semen poured into my mouth. He might cum like a teenager, but not a child. I was happy to swallow it all………..and I did.

As you can imagine, I was rushed out, and I was ok with that. We haven’t made contact again.

HVAC Guy (again)

So here it was….two weeks later and I was back.

The HVAC guy from the BSA and his father’s garage pinged me again. Was I up for a fuck – but fucking him this time. I’ll admit I would have rather taken it up the butt, and I’m not proud of this, but I accepted thinking maybe I could change his mind. I hate when guys do that to me, so I know at times I am no better than they are.

Halfway there I get another text from him. Do I mind if there is a third there. The new guy and me would fuck the host. Now it was sounding a little more interesting if I were to be the top. Or one of the tops. I said I’m good and said that the guy would get there about the same I did.

10 minutes later I park and walk back to the garage. The guy is not only already there, but getting head from the host. I have to believe he was already there well before I got the text asking me if it was ok. It was still ok. The guy was married – according to his ring – and had a fucking fat, big headed 7.5 inches. Now I was REALLY wanting to get it up the ass, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen today.

Secretly I was wondering how to get the new guy my 4-1- 1 so he could breed my ass some time. Cut to the chase on that one – it didn’t happen.

I stepped into the garage and the host closed the door. It was another hot fucking day, but I get the need for the privacy, though I’m an exhibitionist and I would have loved to keep it open. But then again, I didn’t have to live there afterwards. I kicked off my shorts with my thick cock hardening.

The host went back to his knees and sucked the new guy. I egged both of them on, asking the feeder if the mouth felt good, asking the feeder if the cock felt good in his mouth. That kind of shit. Then the host switched to my cock. I’ll give him this, he is a great cocksucker. While he was going down on me, I bent over and went down on the new guy. The cock felt as great in my mouth as it looked. It was heavy and full. I sooooo wanted it. It was not meant to be and we were there for a reason.

I noticed the picnic table was still up in the position it had been the last time I was there. He went ass up and I went behind him. With some lube he had, I made my cock slick and slid it up him. There was a nice tightness to his hole, but I had zero issue sliding in. That socket had seen a lot of plugs before me.

Neither guy was verbal, though there were grunts from the guy taking my dick. I tried to fuck him as hard as possible. This was a dirty garage group fuck – nothing about this was supposed to be neat and tidy. No one was here to make friends. So, the fuck wasn’t meant to be gentle, or at least that is how I took it. I didn’t get any complaints.

I edged a bit and then pulled out. I told the other guy to take a turn. And he did. His fat cock pushed in with ease. The lube, the sweat, the freshly fucked hole (courtesy of me) let him just take over from what I had just done. This gave me time to pause my launch sequence.

Soon enough it was my turn again. The deal, before I even arrived, was that I was to cum first. This guy wanted to slide up into a freshly spermed hole. I was happy to assist him in his needs. I may have been doing it more for this guy than the host himself. At this point, he was just a cum dump.

This time I talked to the other top. Other. Ha. Even though my cock is in this guy, fucking him, about to breed him, I feel like an imposter…..a fraud. Anyway – I was talking to him, asking him if he thought I should come up the bottom’s ass now or in a few. I knew what the answer would be. “Yeah, shoot your load now”, was the reply. A standard one at that. Uninspired even.

With that, and a few more shoves, I started blasting my seed deep into this guy’s guts. It wasn’t too exaggerated, but I put on a show. Since I don’t jack off much (single digits this year and always in the act of sex), I had quite a back-up of jizz and just the intensity of needing and wanting to ejaculate. I groaned, I swore, I told them both I was shooting, as if it weren’t obvious enough. But it was my quaking that probably best surmised what was happening. Feeling that orgasm head to toe – and showing it.

Immediately after sleeping out and stepping away, the stranger stuck his fat headed cock right up this guy’s ass. It did not take him long to get him where he wanted to go. He answered in the affirmative about feeling my load, but it might all be talk. He certainly didn’t last long and was not nearly as verbal or reactionary as I had been. I think I had to ask him if he was cumming, which only then he acknowledged.

By the time he was done and withdrew, I had my shorts pulled up and shoes back on. I had to awkwardly wait for the other guys to get it together, as the garage door was shut. Upon leaving, the other guy and I walked down the drive together, but apart. Not a word spoken or even a glimpse. I was hoping, again, that I might get his digits to get his inches, but he got into his Jeep and took off.

BBC

You know - when you've seen a few thousand dicks, as I have (and yes, I am rounding down!) it gets hard to find a superlative.  Yet, here we are, and I found one.  Two.  Superlatives, that is - not cocks.

Can you say......thickest?

Can you say....heaviest?

So, I was running errands and got pinged by a guy in a hotel a mile away. He was all of 24. 6 feet, maybe 210. His pics showed better than the real thing. Oh - and he had Kid n Play hair....or at least a slightly smaller version of it. And as you can see.....black.

He was wearing nylon gym shorts when I walked in. While not hard, you could see what was undoubtedly a sizable lump. He didn't flinch when I reached for it. Sight unseen I could tell it would be one of, if not, the thickest penises I've ever encountered.

I tugged at the shorts and it.....I'd say "popped out", but without the help of pulleys and cranes, this thing wasn't popping anywhere. It was fighting gravity every step of the way.

I held it in my hand, and that is when I felt the heft. I don't know how much the average dick weighs, but I'd say quintuple it for this. It literally weighed down my hand was it rested in my palm.  Clearly the thickness was there too.

The guy had it all too, as it was about eight inches in length....and maybe around. Length and girth.....that is the dream. To have, and to take.

I don't mean to play the stereotype card, but JFC - this guy was the poster for BBC.

Physically, I was prepped to take it up the ass. Mentally, I was hesitant. I mean, I surely would have. However, he made that decision for me. He rarely fucks and was only looking for oral. I was relieved and disappointed all at the same time. I mean - can you imagine the photos and video of that slab tearing me open?

So, it was to my knees I went.

I've said this dozens of times over the years - I can so much handle a bigger, thicker cock than I can a thin, average length dick. For some reason those can make me gag.  The larger ones just fill me up nicely.  Yes, I get it makes me sound like a whore.........but you know......... if it walks like a cocksucker, talks like a cocksucker and swallows like one.......

I have to say, he really made me stretch my lips and jaw. Once I found the way to accommodate the meat, it really wasn't that difficult to suck....and even take almost - almost! - all the way down. Had he been aggressive, he could have made me get the rest in. But he wasn't.

He stood there pretty much quiet and no action. He was a passive feeder - one of the most I've ever been with. It buys into my theory: when you have a big cock, you don't have to really try or be that good at sex.

It's a flawed theory.  I know many guys with smaller cocks who are SO much better at sex. Still I wasn't going to look a gift horse cock in the mouth........so to speak.

I didn't use my hands, so I was proud of myself for that. It took a while, but he finally came. It wasn't a great amount.....and didn't have a lot of taste, but honestly, while I do love the load and the act of getting it, this time, it might not have been about that.

I think I had just taken the thickest and heaviest cock I've ever had down my throat....or partially down my throat.

Knocked Up

He’d fucked me before. If you recall it was a few years back and in the basement of the Boy Scouts of America building. Then he kind of went dark in terms of being on-line. There was no repeat of anything. Not even a ‘hi’. But that’s how hook-up apps work, right?

But now it was 2-3 years later and there he was. Same pic, but with an indicator he was on-line. And he was interested in knocking boots. I was down for it, of course. Naturally there were snags: oh, he’s taking care of his father, so we have to use the garage. Ok. I can deal with that. I also dealt with the fact that he is a serious chain smoker. Like he’d have two going at a time a few feet apart so he’d never be without one. He saw my face as he went to light up yet another one….and I’d been there for all of 47 seconds. “oh, you don’t smoke! That’s cool.” And while he put it down, he reeked of an ashtray….or nine of them.

Then he pulled out his cock of his nylon shorts, with nothing underneath those, and the smoking thing was forgotten about. This thick slab of meat just let gravity take over……until it started fighting against Newton’s law and started to rise. …..maybe with a little help from my touch. And by ‘touch’, I mean having his meat between my lips.  ....and highly encouraged to take it to the bush.

Before coming over, we debated about who would get fucked. I know he flips way more than I do. Clearly you know I do top here and there…….but not often. For this encounter, I was going to bottom. Score!

He did forewarn me that most bottoms cannot take him. Not due to size, but for this inability (if you want to call it that) to ejaculate quickly. He said he fucks for a long long time.

I don’t really have an issue with that. There are guys I just want them to pump and dump, and other guys who I want to last longer. But it was pushing 100 degrees and we were now in a closed, hot, unventilated garage. Great for sweat and easy sliding and gliding. Bad for just about everything else. And it’s all relative. His “long time” could be 10 minutes. Mine is not. But I was game.

We started on my back, on a heavy duty plastic collapsible picnic table….which was already collapsed. He had lube and poppers, and a willing bottom. He got it in me with little difficulty, but the angle was off, for both of us. He had a hard time squatting/standing and his angle made the trajectory of his penis to gut a little more stabby than I would have liked, though I would have persevered. Because I’m a trooper.

We opted for me bending over, which was better, but not optimal. Eventually, he raised the picnic table to its intended in-use height. Bending over this way was perfect. With my elbows and forearms firmly on the table, he (I have no name on this guy) became a pile driver.

As previously mentioned, the sweat and heat was a great help. It facilitated a fluid in and out movement even with the force of his thrusts. Sweat was dripping from his face and chest onto my back, mixing with my own.

As it would turn out – sweat wasn’t the only bodily fluid we would exchange that day – but you had to know that was cumming coming, no?

I thought he wasn’t very verbal last time, but it was while he was working at BSA. But save some guttural noises, he wasn’t vocal in the slightest. But his neighbors were two arm’s length away, and I had no idea how much sound a closed garage door muffled.

He was true to his word with not cumming quickly.  He fucked me close to 30 minutes.

There was a big push up into my guts and he had a long grunt. I asked him, or goaded him, into telling me what he was doing. I love having a guy telling me he is cumming, though I’m respectful enough to usually let them do it their way.

 “I’m making you pregnant” was his reply.

Had I not been pushed into the table I think my semi-erect cock still would have spewed its load all over his father’s table.

I thought for sure he’d want me to cum for him, but it never came up….so to speak. I slipped on my gym shorts, slipped on my sandals and walked to my car with a load up my butt.

But I’d be back in a few weeks.

Anon

I've said it before and most likely will again: in this day and age, it is more and more difficult to have a truly anonymous sexual encounter.

You get a text or an email. If you hit someone's apartment or house, it's all too easy to find out who they are (or who you are, should you be hosting). Everyone is way too free with their information.

So while I was going to be out of town, I placed a craigslist ad a half a day before arrival. Any more than that and people lose interest. They want sex in a shorter amount of time. I totally get it.

All I got was an email address with a phony name, but a real person.  All I knew is what he told me:  6' 180, 7c, 34 yo, mwm.  Don't know if he was married to a man or woman. Didn't care.  Didn't know what he looked like.  Didn't care.

All he showed me was this:

The rest of the email exchange was fairly standard, save a piece that really hit home.  He wanted it totally anonymous.

So far, he hadn't breached a thing. A cock shot, that may or may not have been him. Stats, that may or may not have been his.  I emailed him my hotel and my room number after arrival.

Most every hotel was booked this weekend in question. Mine ended up being one step above a tenement. I could have probably knocked on any door and bought heroin. Sleazy would be an accurate description.

It was a risk for sure to leave my door ajar. But he emailed to say he was in the parking lot, so the amount of time the door was unsecured was minimal. Though it was longer than I'd like. The guy was a little suspicious of the lobby and the hallway. I think he hesitated coming up.....and with good reason.

But I was in place. Jar of lube next to me on the bed.  Me on all fours on that bed, face down in a pillow, my ass facing towards the door. My hole already cleaned out and lubed.

He said nothing. Not a word. Having no idea what he had on, I had no idea what he took off, if anything. I'll give him this, he was already hard.

Usually, a guy has to prime the dick to get erect, or wants the bottom to suck him till he's hard. Not this guy. I think the scene had him so fucking boned he was ready to go.

If he reached for the lube, I couldn't sense it. He was right at my hole immediately. He was right in my hole immediately after that.

His stats said 7".  That picture looked smaller. But it felt at least like 7" up my ass. Again, I don't know if the stats or the pic were real. I kind of hope they weren't.

The guy knew how to fuck. He pounded my ass from the word 'go'. There was no slow-down. There was no change-up. He was full-in, full-out. And he wasn't quick. I mean - I would have liked it longer than 10 minutes, but it wasn't.

As he was shooting, it was the only time he talked.   "That's a week's worth of cum for you hole".

I hate withdraw. And when you're in a situation like this, I knew there'd be no slow, let the cock get softer and slip out kind of thing. Nope. He pulled it right out.

If he cleaned up at all, I don't know how. Soon, I heard the door open and then close. Since I heard no belts being buckled and such, I assume he never took anything off. Or he had gym shorts that he just dropped that were silent.

He was gone.....and yet he wasn't. His load was deep up my guts. Seven days of it.  Allegedly.


 A little while later, I shot him a message to thank him for the fuck. Immediately, I got an automated response or a non-working email address.  

Well played Mr. Anonymous.   Well played.

How it Should Be Done

He was wanting head.........and he wanted a good blow job.

Via Scruff, he mentioned he was back from an out of town trip where he had got lousy head. Too much hand, too many teeth and he didn't swallow.  I replied if there was hand at all, it was a handjob

I got to his place, and he was waiting, opening the door as I came up the walk. He anticipated the arrival, and was horned enough to get going right away.  ....and he possibly didn't want me knocking or ringing the doorbell which might set off the dog to start barking.

No worries, me just saying 'hey' did that.  The dog would bark the entire time I was there, though I never saw it.

I rubbed the front of his pants and said I was sorry for his bad encounter, but that I would take care of him much much better. I could feel him responding to my touch.

Down to my knees I went, right in his foyer. A cat walked by, looked at me, and kept moving. It didn't distract me from the task at hand.

I reached up and unbuttoned his pants....and unzipped. They fell to his ankles. This left only his briefs, and those were beginning to tent.

Like a good steward of his need, I nuzzled those briefs. He got harder. I licked through the fabric, he continued to rise. I gnawed on them, I got a moan. Every so slowly I pulled on the elastic, but only a bit, exposing the root of the cock. I went in and licked. More moaning. I showed more dick, though I was so close - so in there - that I didn't really see it. My tongue could feel it. ......and yet, more moaning.

We finally dispensed with the build up and I pulled them down past his balls.

There'd be no hands with me. There'd be no teeth - though never underestimate the power of chewing every so lightly on a hard shaft.

I went to work.  Mouth. Lips. Throat. Tongue. All in different order. Orders. And different combinations.  It is important to switch it up. Keep them guessing. Complacency, even in giving head, can be a mood killer. I agree you have to find what a guy responds to, but they might not know everything they like. And it helps postpone the inevitable just a little longer.

"Dave" liked the swirl. A combo of going down, and when coming up the tongue swirled around the bottom of this shaft and then fully around the head. He likes head work, but the combo really made him respond.

If he said it once, he said it a dozen times: "fuckkkkkk........this is the way it's supposed to feel".

I love when a guy talks about my skills real time.

He kept saying he loved the way my lips stretched over his dick, so I'd do it again and again. We were into a rhythm and he said, "keep that up and you're gonna get a mouthful".  I pulled off and asked if he wanted me to get him off now or edge him.

"I want you to get me off and take my load now!".

So back to the swirl I went.  I could feel him get harder. And the more I worked, the more I felt a pool of my own saliva and his precum mix in my mouth, and beginning to fill it. I was afraid I wouldn't have sufficient room for his semen.

At that point it was too late.   "DON'T STOP!" he screamed.....the dog barked more.  He started cumming and he fucked my face more. This was not a stop and let the load out scenario. He kept pumping his cock and load into me.  It was great.

I cleaned him off after he stopped trembling.  He looked down at me, "now that is the way it should be done!"

Agreed.

Right Answer

So I kind of have been lusting after this guy for a while. Like years.

I've seen him at CLAW, but got little to no reaction. Last year he stopped to talk to me. This year he kissed me. The kiss, the attention, kind of made my CLAW.

As it would turn out, I'd run into him outside of this venue. Oddly, I know where he works, only because I used to work there and inevitably there is a Facebook trail of him with friends of mine from that previous employ. So now I know a name: "Bob".

Sometimes this town is too small, but for this instance, it was kind of working for me.

I won't say I actively pursued him, but if he were on Scruff, I'd ping him to say 'hi'. Sometimes I'd get a response, other times I would not. Mostly the responses were generic and friendly and nothing sexual. I could have easily let it be...or he could have blocked me, but he didn't....and I didn't.

One day, the convo turned a little dirty. I let him do the lead, as I didn't want to overstep and scare him away.

Bob is in his 40s, 5'10", 220....but wears it well. Swarthy would apply here.  Dark beard and hair - almost black, if not black. And nice ink. He also has a nice 7" dick.

During this electronic back and forth he established he liked that I wasn't a fragile flower. We made plans to get together.

The man showed up - and while he was business casual, he fucking wore it well. He was swarthy and hot as fuck. The first thing he did was unexpected - grabbed me and kissed. Now there are guys who can kiss and guys who can't. This guy ranks up there. Lips are full and soft, but still masculine as fuck.

It was about this time and that he reached up and played with my nipples.

Now, you know I love that, but he picked up the resistance. And kept increasing the pressure. To a lesser man, it might have been tit torture, but I'm not sure it was. Even though there was a time or two I internally cringed....or maybe a little externally too, as he was keeping a watch.....I said nothing. Never a once did I ask him to ease up or stop. It would have been the wrong tactic.  ....and I didn't want to disappoint.

"What do you want to do?" was his question.

My reply: "that's not up to me".

"Right Answer!"

I've been around the block a couple of times. Yes - just a couple of times.  Don't judge.

Before long, I was on my knees - mostly because he told me to and guided me there. I didn't get to open his pants I was would have preferred, but this wasn't about me. It's almost never about me.

We first started off me sucking his cock with him standing over me. It's a nice cock. Not off the charts big or anything, but formidable. The more important thing was he liked it and knew what to do with it.

I'm going out on a limb to say I did an exception job sucking his dick. I don't think he was acting with his moans, and we both know I was not just sucking but worshipping. I think we both wanted that - and expected it too.

He looked down and me and spit right in my face. Fuck yes!

He went over to a chair, sat and spread his legs, as his pants had come off earlier.  I went back to putting my mouth on his phallus.

"Aren't you a hungry faggot?".  I was. The question was rhetorical, but I nodded with my mouth full anyways.

"Right Answer" was his reply to my non-verbal.

Going by our pre-meeting exchange, I knew this would not end in me sucking him off. I was counting on it, though I would have been happy taking his semen in my mouth and swallowing it all.

Eventually, he pushed me off. He told me to get up and bend over and grab my ankles. I complied. There would be no lube other than what was my saliva covering his shaft.  ...though that's not exactly true. Bob wouldn't actually know he wasn't the first to fuck me that day. Or the second. He didn't ask - and I didn't want to seem too slutty.  (maybe more on those in a later post.)

He pushed hard into me. This wasn't making love. This was going to be a fucking.

.......and the man knew how to throw a fuck !!!!!!!

"Tight....fucking.... boy.... hole.....on.....you!" he grunted through his teeth as he ploughed my cunt. In my mind, I was going back and forth on if he was just using a line or mocking me, as I knew at that moment I wasn't really super tight. It seemed to be said with filthy sincerity......so who knows.

This position worked for a while but then I was bent over the desk.  I rested my forearms onto it and he went back to work.

At one point his hand came down on my ass. Hard.

I know there are some of you who don't like to incorporate that into sex. I don't mind.

I'll rephrase:  I don't mind if it's done correctly. I'm not necessarily one for being beaten, but a few slap arounds is fine - if done with commitment and strength. I don't want it to be half-assed of as a 'let's test the waters' phase.

His palm made full and solid contact with my left cheek. I couldn't see the handprint, but I knew it was there. It was the perfect amount of force, but more importantly (and some of you will get this), it was centered just right. If you don't align it correctly, it's comes off wrong and weak...and a missed opportunity.

I moaned for the sexuality of it. The masculinity of it. The sub in me knew I needed to for him. But I moaned for the perfect execution of it.

I think he knew it too and that it might not be replicated or improved upon - as it was the only one I go, which was totally fine.

"Fuck!  You are SO wet!".  I asked him if that was a good thing - and he said it was. I still wasn't willing to offer my my earlier day activities. I'm hoping he thought he was making me wet......and fuck, he was in so many ways.

Bob picked up the pace. I knew it wouldn't last forever though I would have been happy if it had. Or at least another 20 minutes.

He started to huff and puff.  "Do you want my load? Do you want me to shoot up your ass?"

I restated, "that's not up to me - you'll do what you want anyways".

"RIGHT ANSWER" he screamed as he unloaded up my ass.

The man was a vocal cummer. My windows were partially open, but no one really around to hear anything - not that I would have given a rat's ass if they were. Let them all know what was happening and how.

He slowly slid out. I asked if he was super sensitive and he said sometimes. I dropped to my knees and asked if I could clean off his cock.

"Go for it!".

So I did. "That's right, lick that cock clean, faggot". All I could taste was cum. It might have been his It might have been a mixture. I got him all squared away where he didn't need anything but to find his underwear and pull them up.

Before he did, I got another wad of spit right into my open mouth.

We were chatting a little as he dressed. I lamented I didn't get to lick his ass.  He mentioned he wasn't perfectly clean down there - and I said, that shouldn't be your concern.  He came back with - "it is if I was going to kiss you"  - which he then did. Deep and sensual.

Honestly, all I could think at that moment was: Right Answer.

E. 28th St.

I docked my bike at the appropriate station and walked the block to the address I was given by the guy on BBRT. The building itself was substantial yet something on the door made me take a mental note to look up the residence itself later.

I was told the doorman would ask my name when arriving, which wasn’t unusual. Bringing a picture ID was an odd request. Odder when they took it and made a copy. They announced me and I was given the ok to enter. The lobby was beautiful. Lots of mahogany (do you know where you’re going to?). Yet past the lobby things were very mundane. I waited at the elevator and joined by two other gentlemen, neither of which looked like they could afford to live in such a building. But hey, what do I know?

”Jim” told me the door would be ajar and for me to leave it as such. I said, ‘oh that could be interesting’ implying someone might walk in….then join in. He replied ‘in any other building, I’d agree’. So all my Spidey senses were tingling.

I entered the efficiency. He was there. His BBRT profile had such small pictures, that if you’re non- paying (like me), you cannot enlarge or easily see anything but the main pic. His main pics was his big, thick, raw cock about to go into someone's ass.

He was handsome enough. His hair was red, almost coper. As you’d expect from a red-head, he was pale as can be. He wore only red nylon gym shorts. The place and the man vaguely smelled like pot. He was a little doughy, but nothing bad.

Reaching for his package, I felt that it was thick as hell. Like and unlike last time, there would be little to no foreplay. Men in this town were DTF. I can totally get into that.

Jim was different though. I was to be on my knees at the edge of the bed, facing the wall. Walking in, until we were almost done, was the last time I’d be seeing his face.

Ass up. Shoulders down. I was prepared in every way. I was even pre-lubed. I was a little surprised when I felt his mouth on my hole. He really went to town with eating it. I couldn’t help wonder if he had figured out I’d recently been bred. I went back to Bret’s comments about telling him, but I waited. I can see where it could be a turn-on, but there is a percentage that would not appreciate that. At this point, I said nothing, though I did ask him if he liked, to which he answered in the affirmative. Or more, he moaned and answered into my exposed hole.

After a thorough eating out, so much so, that I was afraid there was no Bret jizz still in me, Jim stood- up, lined up and entered my tunnel of ‘love’. Yes, he was thick, but I just had a royal fucking, so I was good. And a hit of poppers didn’t hurt either.

The man knew how to fuck.

He was slow and methodical at first. And then he was a ram rod. And then he wasn’t. He mixed it up very nicely, each time, somehow making it feel like it was deeper in me. The man was not about the quick breeding session. The fuck went on for almost an hour. About 30 minutes in, my position was just not working for me much…….and I eased down, with him still pumping, till I was flatter on my stomach with my ass still up.

You know I’m not quite a passive fuck. I pushed back onto his thrusting dick. We synched up quite nicely in that rhythm. It was here that he was telling me, he uses guys as holes. It was why I was facing away…….as to him, I wasn’t a person, but a purpose. He didn’t want to see me, just use me. I’m not sure if he was trying to degrade me or turn me on. He was doing both.

I’d say around the 45 minute mark, my ass was starting to get worn out. He was not to be deterred. While I was still pushing into the mattress, he moved my left leg more to the left, leaving me more open. If it’s possible, he pushed even further inside me – up into the 2nd ring. He picked up the pace. At this point, I was almost fucking the mattress, as if I were a 13 year old boy who just found how to pleasure his own cock….except I wasn’t really doing the work.

I thought picking up the pace meant he was closer to cumming. He was not. At least another 10 minutes he kept plugging away. Insistent. Unrelenting. I’m not really complaining at any of this.

Save telling me about how I was just a hole to him and his preference for fucking strangers he’ll never see again, he wasn’t vocal. No moans. No groans. No dirty verbal action. So I wasn’t really surprised when there was no build-up or announcement to the orgasm. The breath got heavier, but that was about it.

I was a little more surprised (though that’s a strong word) when he started talking as he began shooting up my ass. He wasn’t one to bury the cock and let the cum dump into my ass. He pumped his cock and my ass every single moment he was shooting. “Fuck. You’re going to be shitting cum for days” was the line. But now imagine him saying that with a short breath between every word, as you know, he was in the midst of cumming.

So there I was, collapsed on his bed, as he slowly withdrew from me…..eventually. It probably wasn’t long, but it seemed so.

"Show me your hole".

I reached around and grabbed each cheek just so, and exposed the snatch he'd been plouging for an hour.

"Man, those lips are swollen and puffy.  That's a nice cunt".  He took a picture.

I rolled over and slunk off the bed. “Clean my cock”. So I did. With my mouth. It didn’t even taste like ass. It tasted like lube, sweat and semen.

He tried to get me to cum, but that wasn’t really my scene that day. I was about getting fucked. I was about collecting loads. From strangers. He was wondering if I wanted him to fuck me again….like right then. I didn’t. I wanted someone to fuck me, but not him. I’d had him and it would take him too much work to get hard again. Who has that kind of time?

I declined and get myself together. And another one who never offered a thing in the way of needing to clean up. I didn’t want to anyways. So I hit the door, and then the lobby, Googling the place as I left. Yes – it was ‘affordable housing for the homeless’.

I’d just gotten bred by a homeless man.

W. 49th St.

I was messaging a few guys on BBRT when one of them also found me on Scruff. The latter was easier to message on, said he. And it is, and BBRT has limited amounts of messages a non-paying member can send. He was only a quarter of a mile away or so. He wanted ass. I wanted cock. It was a good fit. His Scruff profile said that guys love or hate his thick cock – as the latter cannot accommodate the size. I was up for a challenge. After a little back and forth I was out the door and walking to his place, after delaying a BBRT hook-up further downtown.

I buzzed and he released the door to let me in. I walked up to find his apartment door ajar. I pushed in, while announcing myself. He was walking out of the bathroom, looking like he had just showered, with a towel around his waist.

”Bret” was beefy, but handsome in his own way. Hairy chest. He was 6’ maybe 210lbs. Early to mid 30s. The pic of his dick make it looked curved with a big head. And thick.

Our foreplay consisted of the following: me reaching for his cock through towel to feel it. It was hard and thick, just as his ad had said. Even through a plush towel, you could feel girth. He opened the towel and the last part of the foreplay was me going to my knees, taking his cock in my mouth for approximately 30 seconds before he told me to get on the bed.

Seeing his cock up close, he didn’t seem to have as much of an upward curve as the picture showed. He was thick, but you know, I’ve kind of been around, so it wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen………..or tasted….or felt.

I kicked off my shoes, pulled off my pants, leaving a shirt and socks on and got on my back at the edge of his bed. He picked up a tube of lube and squirted it on his cock. He barely let me hit the poppers before he had that big head at my opening.

Before penetration, I asked him to play with my nipples and he complied. He had skills with his fingers, which all guys do not have. When he did push into my ass, I won’t say I took him easily, but I never said ‘slow’, ‘hold it’ or ‘stop’. I also certainly say ‘pull out for a minute’. He wouldn’t have cared if I did. That wasn’t just my intuition – he told me as much when he was bottoming out. To him, it was all about fucking and leaving his load.

During the fuck he liked to talk. Some of it dirty, some just chatter. I fucking loved how he was confident enough to say I was taking ‘the best cock in the city’. The city has roughly 4 million men, so statistically he would be wrong (well, I’m assuming), but that he had the balls to say it, and with authority, made me all the hornier. Of course, I agreed with him to inflate the ego and the shaft.

Bret was well versed in the art of the fuck. When a man thinks he has the best cock in the city, he probably knows a thing or two about how it is used. He never asked how it felt for me – it was never about that. He had a solid, in-and- out method. Commanding, but not hurtful….at least to the experienced. For a newbie, it could have been overwhelming. For me? I egged him on, telling him to FUCK me. And he did.

He’d pick up the pace and then slow down. I’d use my ass muscle to grab onto the shaft and then release. He wanted to fuck more, but I could sense he was edging himself too. I was ok with that. It was a good fuck, why end it? A minute or two later, he asked if I wanted the load. I said ‘yes’. “TELL ME, you want the load. Tell me you want me to breed you”.

This is a ploy I have used myself when I top. Absolution. It’s no longer the top asking if you want the load. It is the bottom asking for it. There is no confusion about who is begging for what. There might end up being regrets, but that liability is placed on the shoulders of the bottom asking for the fucking load. That, and let’s face it, the top loves hearing that shit. Begging for his fucking seed.

Bret buried deep and started shooting. The twitches were great. But then he started moving. He wasn’t one to bury and let it just release. He fucked as he shot….and kept fucking and shooting.

He never collapsed on me or anything. He stayed in me while I used my muscles to gain the last drops. He nicely complied when I said don’t move and even raised an eyebrow when he felt me working that shaft. But soon he withdrew.

As I expected, since there was no foreplay, there was no anything else. He wrapped his towel back around him (why?). I slid on my jeans and shoes. There was no offer to ‘clean up’. That would have implied him being more about getting off. As I went for the door he started to thank me. I stopped him in his tracks. There is no need to thank me, I told him. If anything it is my job to show my appreciation. He got it.

As it would turn out, I did show his pic to a friend who lived in Brooklyn when he asked who fucked me. Wouldn’t you know that he knew him?! 4 million men in the city. If 10% are gay, that leaves 400,000 of them……and yet, he knows the guy that just bred me. Figures.

I did ask ‘Bret’ where the nearest CitiBike station was. He told me. And I told him I was on my way to get another cock….another load. He told me to let the guy know I was already seeded - - that it would turn him on.

Three blocks later, I was hopping on a bike and riding downtown 21 blocks to get to the guy I had earlier delayed so I could let Bret send his swimmers up my cunt.

CLAW 2017 #3 - the Breeding

You might have noticed in these few CLAW stories that I had not yet gotten off. Yet. It’s not like I was getting any offers. It’s not like folks were clamoring for me. I mean, a few paid attention to me for a bit. One being a beautiful Lebanese man at his first leather event. Another being a pup. I’m not at all into that scene. I find it horribly annoying. That said, this was a man in a pup persona. He was physically beautiful. Not handsome, but closer to pretty, yet masculine. He liked nuzzling me when he was on his knees, making me hard for all to see, be it through my 501s, my leather pants or my kilt. And he’d do it at all the wrong locations, though I think that was by design.

And speaking of kilts………at the vendor fair, one of my CLAW co-workers, who was also a vendor, was talking to me and started feeling me up…..or down…..and under my leather kilt. He had me raging. It was all a tease, as he couldn’t leave his booth and yet couldn’t fuck me there.

And speaking of kilts (#2)…..while strolling through said fair, I happened upon a vendor selling kilts. I happened to “know” the proprietor. He had two helpers…..one I “knew” and one I did not. The one I did not was stunning………and straight. But a guy has to make coin, no? So he was a good lure for the business and guys were milling around him. That’s nice and all, but clearly unobtainable on many levels.

The other helper is very handsome himself. We chatted about their kilts and how I might like one or two of them. And I did. One was very very light weight, almost too much so that in any kind of breeze, there’d be no question on if I were wearing it correctly. He talked me into trying on one…and then another. Each time left me bare-assed naked, and semi-aroused….or a little more than semi….in the middle of the vendor floor. He seemed to like that. So did others.

The proprietor showed me off to his neighboring vendors where I seemingly got the seal of approval, but only in a nod. I’ll take it. “Troy”, the helper, also mentioned reading this here blog and how he loves it – and how the written word can be more erotic than video / pictures….to which I agreed. I was turning all shades of red, I fear. It was a great compliment that I could turn on such a man. But again, like my CLAW co-worker, he was working so nothing to be had from that. Drats.

The funny thing about CLAW is, that while there are literally hundreds of men right in front of you, is how many people are on their fucking Scruff, Recon, Grindr, Mr X apps looking for guy with which to fuck around. The change in culture is weird – though I’m just as guilty. The art of cruising is dying, if not dead.

….so there on an app, and lord know which one, was a faceless guy looking to collect loads up in his room. A door would be open, and he’d take all comers…..and cummers.

Now, for as often as I’ve been to CLAW, I’ve never knowingly participated in one of these adventures. Of course, in my mind, I’d be the one taking on all cummers, so……this was exciting and disappointing all at the same time. We went back and forth – when I was finally free, he wasn’t and vice versa. Finally it clicked. He gave me his room number and I was on my way.

Opening the door, I could see the back of him dead center at the desk the room provides. He was bent over it, back to me.

He was good. He never turned around. He knew his place. His stats seemed accurate, but overall it did not matter much. He wasn’t morbidly obese or anything, and at this point, he was to be a hole. I’d say he was 6’, 190-200 lbs. I came into the room and shut the door. I don’t know what I was thinking.

I had on my well worn 501s. I was commando and sporting a thick chrome cockring. This was CLAW, there was little use to be subtle. The look was wasted on him, as he never saw me. I didn’t even undo the belt, as I just popped the buttons and hauled my hardening cock out of its confines.

I’m not one for testing a hole with my fingers. I made assumptions I wasn’t his first cock….let alone this weekend…….this day….or maybe even this hour. I used my own spit as lube, even though he had some in plain sight. But this wasn’t about him. Not really.

I was hard, but could have been harder. I was hard enough to push into him his hole. While I don’t think I was the first one in, I also had no detection of a load lingering in his guts. He moaned like I was his first. Maybe I was his biggest in a while, but I think we all know I wasn’t his first………….that day.

Clearly looking down, and assuming he didn’t have a bad blood transfusion in his past or was an IV drug addict, I wasn’t his first.

I kept plugging away.

Now, my norm is that I struggle to stay hard while I fuck. It’s not physical – more mental. Top isn’t usually my sexual place in life. It would be so much easier for me if it were. But I was doing ok this day. I was feeling confident, even a little dominant. And even when I do fuck, I have a tendency to ejaculate far more quickly than I’d like. It’s not premature or anything, just a combo of ready to cum and not wanting to lose my hard-on before I do. Again, this was it didn’t seem like it would be a problem.

The guy was taking it like a champ. Easy enough to bottom out, but enough traction to keep me stimulated.

…….then there was a knock on the door.

I asked my ‘host’ nothing. I withdrew and went to the door to answer it. I didn’t know who it was. I didn’t care. This goes back to my earlier comment on not knowing what I was thinking. Of course, the guy had others in queue to come up and bone his butt. I should have never full closed the door – and just let anyone else push the door open as I had to join the fun. Yeah, I kind of care what they look like, but this wasn’t my party…….and I was just a participant. It was more about the attitudes of guys who come to these would-be gangbangs.

I just opened the door and stepped back. I let him see I wasn’t the host, as that guy was still bent over the desk. The other guy just walked in. I can’t say he was my type, but I wasn’t the one taking it up the ass. Maybe 5’7”, pushing 60 with the slightest of paunches. He pulls down his pants, his dick looks ok flaccid. He follows me over to the guy and watches me punch my cock back up his hole. I ask him if he likes what he sees, meaning me, and he does.

While still in him, I turn the fuckee around – still not seeing him – and have him facing other guy’s dick. He takes it in his mouth. I fuck for a while. Actually staying hard and not near completion. This is how fucking should go. Use the hole. Feel it……making my own cock feel good. It’s what I hope other tops feel when they fuck my cunt. I look at the other guy and ask him if he wants a shot at that hole. He says yes, then steps away from the mouth. Before I give up the hole, this guy, as best I can tell, hits a button in his scrotum to pump up his cock. I’m guessing it is an internal pump to make himself hard.

Once he was there, he came near me to insert into the host’s ass. I considered going around to have him suck me, but I opted not to see his face….ever. It was a game at this point. So I stood aside and watched the new arrival fuck the guy. He was ok at skill and it was nice to watch. He then said he had gotten off three other times that day and wasn’t sure he could get off.

Fuck. I hate that shit. I counted on him to deliver. I talked him up. I egged him on. I degraded the bottom. All in hopes of getting to the edge…………….and it worked. He started shooting up the guy’s ass. Taking his time finishing and pulling out.

I wasted no time. None. I move the bottom over to the bed and bent him over. I pushed in. I wanted to feel that warm load - - and I did. It oozed around my cock. I could feel it. I had every intent on plugging away until he got an additional load.

As you can see - I got my way. 

I fucking left my load up where the other guy – who had already taken off – had put his, and no doubt as others before him had done.

And just for fun, I thought you’d get to see his loaded hole after I was done – such as it was.

After that, I just got out of there. I saw no reason to stick around, nor I’m guessing did he want me to. We both gotten what we wanted and if I were him I’d just be waiting for the next guy. I buttoned up and didn’t look back, though I’m 100% sure he never picked his head up from the bed to see who I even was.

CLAW 2017 #2

As it has happened, each year for the last three at CLAW, one certain guy always hits me up. Oddly, I never see him out and about during the weekend event. And oddly, he always hits me up on the last morning of CLAW via Recon. I seem to be his parting gift, the possible last person to get his load of the weekend.

Each time is in his hotel room. Each time he answers in varying stages of dressed in leather. Each time he has mirrored aviator sunglasses on. He still had that fumanchu moustache that really seemed to work for him. Each time, his 6.5”, super thick cock, is erect and ready. I have to do no priming. I just have to get to my knees.

Yes, it was yet another blowjob. Don’t get me wrong, I love giving head and I know I’m good at my job. Great at it, even. I have zero idea if this guy is into fucking, but it seems he isn’t into fucking me at the very least. Or maybe he’s like the last guy and just thinks I give the best head ever. Yeahhhhh…..that’s it.

Yet there I was, knocking on his hotel door Sunday morning, soon to be on my knees servicing his fat fucking cock. He said all the right things. He called me all the right names. I felt his hands on my head. I “let him” fuck my face. I submitted the way I was supposed to. Like the previous two years, we started standing, went to him laying back on this bed, me between his spread legs and ending with him standing…again. We have a pattern………………………apparently.

There is nothing out of the ordinary regarding this blowjob. It was standard, by the books in terms of style. #Of course I got him close. Of course, I got him off. I was a “good faggot”. I got every single drop of his load. I swallow it too. I squeezed it after withdrawing it from my mouth to see if I could get another drop – and so that he could see me do it.

Don’t quote me on this, but I bet I see him in about 10 months.

CLAW 2017 #1

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S.T.U.D.

He was hands-down one of the hottest men I’ve been with. Ever.

I mostly mean physically, but he’s got it down in other areas too. #His profile only had a shot of a partial chest and a white gym towel around his nether region. But it was a nice body. And he was 34 and hitting me up…….so why not flirt a bit?

So I didn’t know what he looked like exactly when I invited him over. That has never been a prerequisite. But he was responsive on Scruff and engaged. And he wanted someone to get him off. That pretty much fills the prerequisites, does it not?

He parked on the street and walked up the drive. It is then I spied with my little eye a striking man as he strode towards the door. 6’3”, 200 pounds. His brown hair was buzzed down to the skin on either side of his head, and in the back. What he left on top was full and thick, but maintained. Not quite a high top, but not quite hipster either. The man was solid from head to toe.

An earlier text to me read, “my little flaccid cock is gonna grow so big in your fucking mouth”. That turned me on! Talk like that is way better than someone quoting Byron or Yates. It turns out he’d have a solid and actual 8” hanging between his legs. And when I helped him drop his jeans, he wasn’t so little or flaccid.

This guy was all man.

As I am apt to do when I worship cock, as opposed to just sucking cock, I was deliberate in how I unhooked his pants. How I slowly took down a zipper, all the while watching his face, as I looked up at him from my clearly subservient position. How I pull them down slightly, but not all the way to start. It build up anticipation on both sides. You see the exposed cotton of their briefs or boxers, should they be wearing any. And he was.

I looked up at him before leaning in. It wasn’t for permission as it was more about intent. I nuzzled his covered slab with my face. I let him feel my face with his crotch. Even through the fabric, we could both feel each other’s heat from each other. It was then it was just no longer my face, but isolated to my lips and mouth. It’s about tracing his growing member with my mouth. Gently gnawing on the cotton mound. ….and then maybe a little less gently, figuring out what this man’s threshold might be.

As it turns out, he’s good with aggressive gnawing. He seemed like he’d be good with aggressive anything.

I expected his verbal skills to be good, and he did not disappoint. He had the right amount of erotic, filthy and degradation that I desire. And all without prompting. He was a good one to call me a “faggot” and a “cocksucker”. It boned me up in my suit pants.

Yes, I had just gotten home from the office….still in a tie and all, though the suit jacket had been removed. Nothing else had. Or would. His interest wasn’t really in my body or my could-be exposed dick. I wanted it to be about his cock……….and I think he did too. Mind you, I did end up pulling down my trousers as he wanted to see my ass, but it was never about my dick.

The cock was just perfection. I was secretly hoping this guy had some kind of flaw, and I’m sure he does, but during this encounter, I found none.

At some point, of course, I lowered his brief and took him into my mouth. There was an audible sigh / moan at the point of mouth to dick contact. He seemed to enjoy the feeling. I was enjoying the filling. I have to believe this is a man who could get a blowjob anytime he wanted, and yet he still seemed to truly appreciate the feeling of a mouth on his cock.

Seamlessly, we immediately worked as a team. I’d impale myself on his shaft as much as he‘d slam it into my mouth and throat. Sometimes his hands would grasp the side of my face or back of my head, sometimes he let me do all the work.

He had a dirty mouth too……calling me a cocksucker and meaning it. The talk wasn’t just talk. Perhaps it was sense of self-loathing he was projecting. Perhaps he just made himself feel better by demeaning the cocksucker giving him pleasure. What he didn’t really know was how hard his words were making me. Some guys I want to know it’s turning me on. Some guys I don’t – so it feeds them to do it more. He was one of those.

Grabbing onto his legs for support, those thighs were fucking tree trunks. Solid. Large. Unmovable, that is, if I even wanted him to deviate from his position. I didn’t.

He was insistent, but not in a hurry. Forceful but not abusive. Demeaning, but oh so nice to look at. #I could feel his cock bounce in my mouth, during those times when I just let him hold it in there – where he wasn’t fucking my face or I wasn’t bobbing on the shaft. I got him close a few times, but either he would back off, or I would. I know I didn’t want it to end too quickly, and I’d like to think he did not as well.

Still, all good things must cum to an end. When he did it was in volleys. Lob after lob of hot sperm. It filled my mouth, but didn’t choke me. I’m not a novice. I held as much as I could, savoring the thickness and the taste. Sure, some jizz slid down my throat, as I had to make more room for what he was providing.

I wasn’t, and you won’t be, surprised that it wasn’t bitter, but good tasting cum. There wasn’t a bad thing about this guy.

Before I swallowed, I showed him the vast amount of his seed taking up temporary residence in my mouth. He snickered. I swallowed.

Of course I probably fantasized some kind of connection, he seemed to be into it…..into me. He even mentioned ‘next time’ bending me over the desk and fucking me. I should have insisted on it right then and there, had I known he’d just ghost me and never be seen on-line again.

Tapped Out

He had blown me off before…….and not in a good way.

There he was, all of 400 ft away from me and we couldn’t make it work. Sure, connectivity there sucked, but in reality he said after his appointment we’d find time and then messaged me two hours and 11 miles later.

Now here it was weeks later, I’m having coffee in a Starbucks and he’s a mile away asking me to come over. And that I would be a third. Both guys were black. I was to be the cream center…………so to speak. I only had stats on the one: 6’2”, 210, football build, 8”. And very dark skinned, which I like. The other guy I had no clue. I was horny and said I’d be there in 5 minutes. He gave me the code to buzz him when I got to the door.

In a few minutes, he was opening the door for me. He looked as good as his pic, but he was slow to move and something about his mannerisms suggested drug use, which never is usually a positive when hooking up. I get that they think it is a good thing, but I find performance suffers greatly. In an impaired state, of course, they never think that to be true.

I followed back to his bedroom. The other guy was less than optimal. Older (not that I mind that). Normal body with a full belly – which I felt like it should have been tapped to drain fluid off of. He barely noticed I was there. He was fooling with one of his three (!!) phones. Again, it went to my high theory, and now added onto it, ‘dealer’.

The host and I paired off for quite a while. He lay back in bed, I was on my knees at the side, sucking his 7.5 thick inches. His eyes were closed. I could have been anyone. In his mind I was probably someone else. That’s fine. We weren’t looking to date.

The cock was dark as night. It shined up really nicely as my mouth came off of it, leaving it covered in my own spit and glistening in the daylight. I love that look…….it’s hot to me.

This went on for a while. I couldn’t tell if he was into me or not. If he liked the scene, or not. The other guy was a distraction, as he wasn’t participating and for me, I wasn’t even sure whose apartment I was in. I assumed the guy who messaged me, whom I was sucking, but I wasn’t truly sure.

He tugged at my shirt and silently encouraged me to disrobe. I did. Pants hit the floor and he pulled me into the bed with him, while guy #2 sat on the side of the bed…..with his phones. He had me work on his tits with my mouth while he played with my cock……then my balls……then my ass. He got no resistance, so he kept going.

As he ran his fingers from my taint to brushing over my hole...then into my hole….he went in for the kiss. I suppose it makes guys feel better about showing tenderness when really just wanting access to a private place. Kissing is nice, but not essential for these kind of hook-ups. There are no expectations except sex and getting out. That said, I love a full-lipped black man. The softness that usually comes with those lips can be highly erotic if they know how to kiss. This guy had the lips, but not the skill. I think he’d be teachable, but this was not that moment.

He leaned over and picked up a bottle of lube from the floor. As he applied it to his 7.5 inch cock, he adeptly moved between my legs. I spread them for him. It was well past playing hard to get at this point.

His cock punched in. I was prepared for the initial push so it wasn’t so bad. It might have helped that this wasn’t my first time. (that’s a joke, people!) Like his being the recipient of a blowjob he took the laid back approach to fucking. It was nice, but not intense. Everything was a little faster than slow- motion. Honestly, I didn’t agree to a three-way thinking it would be a Sunday afternoon drive mentality.

At this point, the third guy kind of showed up, even though he never left. He got behind the guy fucking me and tried to fuck him. Even I knew the guy in me wasn’t going to allow that. While he didn’t say ‘no’, he pulled out of me and gestured toward me to the other guy. He got between my legs and took a go.

I’d say ‘we’ve all been there…’ but maybe we haven’t. That place where you want to finish what you started but not with the guy who is currently with you. You ride it out (so to speak) so you can get back to the one you want. I have been there.

For a potentially lesser guy – one might feel cheap, used and degraded by this set-up. I am not a lesser man. There is a type of cost-benefit analysis going on in my head on what the ROI might be on letting some semi-silent guy fuck my ass while his semi-friend watches. I was hardly surprised with after two dozen pumps he unloaded. Going by his groan and time to pull out – it was nothing outstanding. I felt nothing. Literally and figuratively.

I was feeling a little “unsure” (we’ve all been there too….no?) so I asked to use the bathroom to just check and touch-up if needed. Nothing was needed, so it was just a feeling I was wrong on. The first guy was waiting outside the door and we just drifted into the kitchen. No third guy. Just us. There he kissed again. Better, but not great. He seemed taller than 6’2”, as that is my height and I had to lean up ever so slightly to make lip contact.

His cock was hard. He had the lube with him. He was prepared. I was ready. There in the kitchen, with him leaning against the counter, I turned around and bent over slightly. He got behind me, positioned himself nicely and pushed in.

The previous seemingly lackluster fucking was gone. He was in his groove. It turns out the man truly knew how to throw a fuck. One hand on my hip, one on my shoulder, he leveraged himself (and me) for a rugged, manly fuck. Determined. Focused. I leaned over more to brace myself against the opposite counter. This gave him better ability to fuck harder. He did to a degree, but I’ve had rougher.

Soon enough he was doing what most don’t: full in and out strokes. I mean, fully out. Then push completely back in. And he did it repeatedly. That is great in porn, but most guys never fully leave the confines of a colon.

I’d say it was unfortunate, but it wasn’t: his timing was off. On an outstroke, he started cumming. I felt a hot jet hit a cheek, but like a pro, he pushed in for the rest. That was kind of porn-like and kind of hot. He pumped the remaining ball juice he had up my ass.

He slid out. We composed ourselves. We made our way back into the bedroom to retrieve my clothes. The other guy was there, uninterested in anything we just did and had to have overheard. I nodded to whom I assume was my host and walked out alone....his load firmly up my ass.