Monday, August 07, 2017

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.

Thursday, July 20, 2017

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.

Wednesday, July 05, 2017

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.

video

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.

video

…….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.

video


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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.

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

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.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

CLAW 2017 #1

I’m late in getting to what few CLAW stories I have – as I’m about two months behind by now, just in these tales. I am way far behind in others. I actually have a list of the better encounters, and I’m chipping away at them, as you can see.

Like the last few years, I’ve done some work at / with CLAW. Deep down it’s on the hope that I can ‘play’ more. In reality, I end up working most of the entire time and as each year passes, I play less and less. I’d say that’s a shame for me, but those poor guys who don’t have the chance to tap this…..well, that’s just sad for them. {readers to mentally insert smiley face here}

Unlike prior years, I tried to set-up more experiences ahead of time. That turned out to be a colossal waste of energy. Guys either cancelled their entire trip, completely ignored me after arriving, begged off if they did respond – or my favorite: a few (not just one!) who had me call them “Sir” for the entire time up to the start of CLAW now all were “in a bottoming mood”. Seriously!

The reality was – everyone was holding out for something else, or something better, that may or may not have come along. Clearly I wasn’t at the top of their checklist. It was a little humbling and a little humiliating.

That said – I had some opportunities.

This first guy – no name – sent me his image via Scruff well before CLAW. Clearly he was searching by ‘Cleveland’ and came across me………..ummmm….so to speak. He struck up a convo and we were off to the races. He was a top. His pic had him in a leather cap. Handsome enough. Manly enough. Very self- assured. Regardless of what I brought up, he always brought it around to blowjobs.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m a HUGE fan of oral sex, as you’ve seen and read. But with CLAW, I dunno, it seems like a place to get fucked. Not just to get fucked………but to get bred. I know that kind of event caters to a lot of different scenes, but for me, a leatherman pumping my cunt is right at the top of the list. Call me old-fashioned.

Sir got blowjobs from others, he said. Even from his boyfriend, he said. But he claims he’s never had a great blowjob. Ok. Now I’m being challenged. I’m basically a sub who is being ‘talked into’ sucking this man’s cock. We mad plans. And technically, it is the only pre-made plan that followed through, though he kind of jacked me around on Day 1. Day 2 we had it goin’ on.

A few messages and I was heading up to his door. Knocking. Knowing he was checking me out through the peephole before actually opening it. I step in and he is dressed in only a yellow jockstrap. Not an ounce of leather on him that I can tell. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care, but it was a leather event and it’s kind of a turn-on for me. But it wasn’t a fucking fashion show.

On my own I went to my knees. Normally there’d be a lot of gnawing through the strap, and I did a little, but not a lot. Not this time. He was the one to pull it off. My lips wrapped around the head of his cock and nice and steadily, I worked my way down to his base. The reaction was immediate – verbal, visceral, physical. His body jolted like maybe he never had a good blowjob before. It’s almost like he’d never had one………ever. I was liking this.

We moved from the entry over to the chair. He sat down and spread his legs. He may have even put one foot up on the ottoman, still with enough access for one on-call cocksucker. And there I was, at his service.



At that angle, it was more fun to use my tongue. It danced on the underside of his shaft – with his cock outside my mouth, and then in. To all the cocksuckers reading this – and all the feeders – accept nothing less than some alternate tongue work, It’s not all about the lips and throat. Of course, I used those too….much to his delight.

After sitting, he was lifting his ass up a little to match my downward impalement as he drove upwards. This lasted for a while until he realized a hand on the back of my head could produce a similar face fucking

Moans, cursing and the compliments all came out of his mouth, while he was filling mine. He expounded that he’s never had such a good mouth before – that his boyfriend was horrible at giving head. Either he really meant all of it, or he should win a fucking Oscar.

One of the things me mentioned was that it was a five day load. He had told me that earlier, but he wanted to send the message home. He had even fucked his boyfriend that morning but didn’t cum knowing he’d be feeding me. Even more surprising that this was day 2 of the even and it was his first ejaculation.

Once or twice I pulled off. He was so verbose, I couldn’t quite tell if that was just his style of if he was getting close. I wanted this to last somewhat of a good time, so I was cautious at my edging. But he was a new guy. I didn’t know his signals. I had gotten him too close and there was no going back.

Realizing where he was in his launch sequence, he grabbed my head and held me down for dear life. I would have thought by our conversations there was no question that I would be swallowing. Of course, he could have just been exerting his dominance or just holding on for dear life during a toe-curling orgasm.

Like a pro, he firmly - actually much more than firmly - grabbed my throat with his hand. It stayed in place until I had ingested every single drop of his semen.



After I gulped down his spunk, and milked and licked up any remaining bits, I sat back on my heels and watched him recover a bit. He was very complimentary and grateful for my services. He did ask me how his load was – and I replied that it tasted great, which it did. He also questioned if it was big enough…..you know….because I didn’t gag on the amount. I had to laugh. The poor guy had a need to know he had a big load. I assured him he did not lie on the size, and it’s just that I have a lot of experience. And I mean, a LOT.

He was fun. I would have liked it more if he fucked me, but this wasn’t about me. It was about a need he had to fulfill. Weeks later, in brief texts, he said he and his bf broke-up. I told him it was probably because I ruined him for other guys. He laughed, but didn’t deny it. So I’m going with that.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

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.

Friday, June 02, 2017

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.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Ice Ice Baby

Vanilla Ice Jr.

That’s the best way to describe him. Ultra white who thinks he’s a man of the streets, when he really just grew up in white suburbia. Probably digs rap, but none of their messages truly identify with his reality.

That said, none of that truly showed on his profile…..other than the small silver ball piercing that resided between his lower lip and chin………whatever area of the face that is called. I was more distracted by the dick pic he sent. Nice proportions. Nice head. Better than average in looks and size.

He was between 800-1200 feet away, whenever he messaged me, or whenever I looked. We started messaging-lite. You know, those nothing texts where each isn’t sure of the other, so no one dares ask something like ‘do you want to fuck?’ kind of thing. I’m guilty of it. I’m never sure if it is because I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment or if I’m truly ambivalent about a hook up. Or worse: one finds out they’re both bottoms.

So, he was visiting his mother who was just diagnosed with cancer….and he’s been with her for days on end. Yet here he was……….on “social media” trying to find a hook-up. And poof! There I was…..with two down pointing arrows on either side of my profile name.

There was negotiating on timing, but one evening, I was working late in my office. He was 700 ft away…….and within a few minutes, I was meeting him downstairs.

I saw him coming. Lord.

5’7”, tops. While he said he was 33, he looked way younger. The baseball cap, askew atop his head and tilted made me wonder where his skateboard and teen posse might be. The ear spike wasn’t helping matters. Later I’d find a pierced naval. There I was in dress shirt and tie. He didn’t look like he belonged in my office……..and he didn’t……..in so many ways.

Soon I was swiping us through security and into my mostly abandoned floor. Mostly. There were work stragglers in their offices too….with their doors close. Maybe they were doing the same thing as I. But doubtful.

With my door shut (and locked), I wasted no time. I’d already been at the office for 12 hours, but I wanted cock. It was a toss-up if I wanted to be home more than I wanted the dick at this point. Since he was in front of me, I opted for dick.

He dropped his jeans. Beneath were silky boxer shorts that seemed useless. I could tell even through the shiny black material that his cock pick undersold him. He wasn’t nearly fully hard and yet, you could see everything. I can’t imagine how much different commando would be.

I grabbed it through the material. I felt it. I squeezed it. It grew. And grew. I didn’t even bother gnawing on it through the material. Time was critical, but I wanted the flesh tube, not the boxers. Instead of getting on my knees I sat in a chair and pulled him into me. The head was exquisite. Fat, firm and still spongy. A perfect combo. The shaft was thick and thickening. Solid and firm. Easily 8 inches.


He pushed me off of it a few times. He was not as sensitive as much as he had not gotten off for a few days and it would be too easy to pull the trigger…….so to speak. We chatted while he cooled down a bit. As I am apt to do, I ask about first times. Right or wrong, they get me going. He was 12. The other was the father of a friend. He as a 12 year old blew the dad……..repeatedly over a few month time span. Right or wrong, I love that shit. I went back to sucking, but again, he got too close. I asked if he was too wound up to fuck. He told me no....he was down to fuck.

With no lube, other than my trusty spit, I slathered up his sex tube and then bent over the desk.

Regardless of what I thought of him, the man knew how to fuck......well once he got in.

I held the shaft and guided him in. He could have found the hole well enough, I think, but why leave it to chance. Since he was so much shorter than I, finding the right was imperative.

I love that moment when a big cock is pushing in.....slowly.....surely. The ass involuntarily - to a degree - rebels against having an invader. But then that magical moment when it gives way....voluntarily.....and the cock sinks all the way in like a welcome friend.

It's not just the recipient who feels that give way......I know from experience on the other side that the fucker feels it too. What he decides to do with that information tends to make them a good top.....or not.

Vanilla Ice Jr, for his quasi street wannabe cred like I said, he knows how to fuck.

And I know guys love big cock.....but thicker is so much better.  He had both length and girth. BONUS!


All I can say is that it felt incredible up my ass. I fucking loved it.

The movements were fluid, the spit held its viscosity. The more he moved the better it felt...for both of us I suspect. To be honest, I didn't ask him, nor did he ask me. I suspect we were lost in our own pleasures. We were dependent on each other for that, but not engaged enough to care.

Considering how close he had been during oral sex, I imagined he'd be a fast fuck. He was not. It was a good 15 minute pounding.

And when he came.....Lord, when he came........he CAME. I felt every pulse and twitch of that dick. However many days it truly was, was impressive. He kept flooding me......I kept feeling those spasms. It. Was. Awesome.

There's always the bad part:  the withdraw.  My ass just felt empty.

As he stood there....cock glistening...I went to my knees and took care of that too.  I took him in my mouth and went to the root, sure to clean him up with no trace other than his memory that he pumped his cock and load up an ass of some guy he just met on-line.

I don't wish his mother ill, but maybe he'll be around for a bit for another go 'round.  I'm not looking to know him or date him......but I will bend over for him.

Word to his mother.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Take the Initiative

He never initiates.

Mind you, he's always courteous and responsive when I send an email. And he's very timely. But I don't think it would ever occur to him to send the initial message.

I'm speaking of the Nerd.

We lost touch for a bit. The email I had for him kept kicking back as undeliverable. But I found another way - got an updated address, and we have occasionally have found some time that works for us both.  ......and he's always receptive of coming by.

Part of me thinks he thinks he isn't worthy..........then he totally is.  I mean, you remember his member, right?


And he's totally cute in that nerdy kind of way.  But eye contact is a rare thing. Conversation can be a little stilted, but truth be told, I'm not looking to exchange thoughts on world or local views.

He was over recently, shy and reserved as usual. We chit-chatted a bit before he reached out to touch my crotch. Usually, I greet him fully clothed and we take it from there. This time, I was in the midst of changing from work when he showed......so I was in my boxer briefs and t-shirt.

Now, he does reach for my cock. And he will hold it, but he's never stroked it and certainly never sucked it. I'd say I think he's totally gay, but maybe he is bi or something. Or just a total top  - shy and non-aggressive as he might be.

I will say, he usually reaches for my dick, but only on the way to elsewhere.

The many likes feeling my legs, my taint and my hole. And I like him touching them.

Often there is our version of foreplay. Some talk, though not as dirty as I'd prefer, but I try to not shock him with filth. I don't know he would be offended or could keep up - I just assume he would and can't. But I've been wrong before.

I wasn't fully prepared for anything other than oral.  I wanted to be.  Fuck, I wanted to be. But I wasn't. I think when we are all in the heat of the moment, we've taken that risk (if we give it any thought at all), but this was not that day.

Still, his working of my nipples had me thinking differently. And unexpectedly he leaned down and took the left one in his mouth.  This was new.  18 months into playing on and off and we hit something new. The joke was, he is no novice to this.  He was an expert at it. I think he was trying to get me to just bend over,  no questions asked. The sensation made question it all.

Had he just been assertive and bent me over, I'd have gone with it.  But he didn't.

As he had done in the past, he brought up the possibility of watching someone fuck me or me sucking someone else. As it turns out, I might have someone in mind who'd be into it.  This excited him to a point I had never seen.

Reserved as he is, he did a second thing we've never done. He kissed me.  Wild. Passionate. Not shy or hesitant the way you might expect.  It went on for a few minutes.

I had his cock in my hand and noticed he had discharged something more than precum but less than cum.  I licked the stringy contents from my fingers and he went for the kiss again, with his semi-jizz still on my tongue - not ingested..........yet.  Another surprise.

He was so excited, and I know him well enough, that I had to go to my knees. He was too on his way to getting off that fucking would be out of the question - or only be partially inserted until he shot. So a blowjob was the way to go.

It did not take me long to have him on edge.  I miscalculated the edging process. The confidence I had to take him to, but not over, the brink was flawed. I would have buried his cock deeper into my throat had I known he was there. As it was, the head and 1-2" was in my mouth.

That mouth started filling with cum.  He was gripping the bottom of his shirt, partially to keep a good view of what was going on down there and partially for something to hold onto during orgasm.

The man trembled during and after quite a bit. I must have stayed on it for a good two minutes after capturing his entire load and all the stray remnants.

He claimed to have jacked off the day before, wanting to give it to me, but that he had not seen me.

There it is with the initiation part. Had he just sent a message, I'd have known he was interested and had a week's worth of scum in his nuts. But for only having a 24 hour load, it was nicely sized.

Next time though - no matter what - I think he needs to fuck me with that big cock.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Visitor in Need

He was visiting. He was close. Less than 700 feet if Grindr’s GPS was remotely accurate. A few messages back and forth confirmed this to be true. His a trip here to see an ailing parent, so for him, there was stress involved. Not enough to keep him off Grindr, I noticed.

We traded a few vague messages back and forth, but he was with family and I was working. At some point, I said I was headed to lunch – and he said the cafeteria was near where he was. Again, vague. There was no outright invite from either of us, nor was there any confirmation of he’d be heading that way also.

So there I was, eating the salad I brought for lunch. It was a two-top, with a number of other two-tops around. Most were occupied. The one directly in front of me was not. After a bit of time, a man sat down at the nearby table, facing me. He looked at me. I looked at him. He kind of looked like the guy in the profile pic, but enough not that I did not initiate conversation. Nor did he. He smiled weakly once. I reciprocated.

The problem where I was eating is that the reception is SO bad, that it wasn’t easy to get back to then app to see if he was less than 250 feet away. He was. I finally got a signal and he confirmed it was him. He headed back and sat with me while I finished my lunch.

We chatted about mundane things. It was crowded and there was only so much one could say. We tried to imply certain things – such as he’s been traveling and here, busy with no time on his own. I translated that to: he’s had no sexual outlet for a while now.

I wasn’t wrong.

The conversation never got explicit, but between the lines, we knew what we were saying. He saw me try to be subtle when I reached down to adjust myself through my suit pants. He did the same, but said he had to stand up due to a wrong angle. I think he just wanted to stand up and show me what was lurking beneath his jeans.

It was such that I asked him if he was going commando. He claimed he was not. So I was somewhat impressed at what I could view through thicker denim. He was smiling at me the entire time, knowing I wasn’t really making eye contact when still talking to him. He sat down, I finished my meal and then said, “do you want to take a walk with me? I know a place.”

In truth I knew of a place. Two, potentially. How good they might be wasn’t clear. One restroom has a two door entrance system – so you heard people coming, and two close stalls. Not big enough to do underneath, but so cramped you couldn’t really see under to see if there were two pairs of feel (assuming you got the far stall). The second option had one stall with way way way too much visibility underneath. Anyone could see anything. The plus was the door was far enough away from the urinals that one could get themselves together if need be. For the record – I’ve never fucked around in either location.

Option one was ruled out immediately, as housekeeping had it blocked off for cleaning. So I kept walking. He trailed behind by a few yards. The second location was empty. I stepped up to a urinal. He took the adjacent one. We both pulled out our cocks.

His was nice. If I’m honest, it looked bigger in his jeans than out of them. But it was a good, 6.5” or a little more. Decent thickness to it. Slight upward curve. This would prove useful in this public restroom setting.

He reached for mine. He liked it, but we both knew, though we never said, that’s not what we were here for. He took a step or two away from the urinal, presenting me his cock. I bent over and enveloped it with my lips….and then my mouth….and then to the throat. That upward curve with me bending to get to that dick was just the right angle.

”Oh, you fucking cocksucker!”, came out of his mouth after deep-throating him a few times in a row. I’m 91% sure he meant it as a compliment. I was not fucking around here. No edging. No artisanal cocksucking tricks. This was strictly, or mostly, a blow and go. You know that effort one might put into the end of the blowjob to finish the guy off? I started at that level.

While he wasn’t boisterous, I was thinking he was louder than he should have been for a public restroom in a potentially high traffic area. He moaned. He swore. He called me names. Or what I call, ‘said all the right things’.

We were only three minutes in – tops – when he said he couldn’t hold back.

I didn’t want him to.

”Oh fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!!! Take it all you cocksucker!”

The man gushed. And gushed. And gushed again. He’d been at his childhood home, having not gotten off for 4-5 days (yes, he told me). I was the beneficiary. I took it all, just like he told me.

I cleaned him up….with my mouth. I took every drop. I stood up. We straightened up. He told me to leave first and I did. I did notice him leave, but trail behind me by a few dozen yards now. He was here for an entire week.

I never heard from him again.

Sunday, April 09, 2017

At His Work

The pic on Grindr was iffy, but the stats were good. And he reached out to me. Honestly based on that pic, even with the stats, I probably wouldn’t have pinged him. As it happens, I didn’t have to.

He was semi-close by. Walkable, albeit a 15 minute one. He exhibited the right attitude, so I forwent the lack of a good image and trekked over to his place of business. Oh yes, he was working, but in an establishment all his own, so he had that flexibility.

However, his place is like a co-op: multiple businesses under one roof, though while they all have their designated space, the set-up is quite communal. The walls don’t go all the way up to the ceiling in most of these areas. Almost all the way, but not all, all the way. So, verbal was pretty much out. #He left the door unlocked, but told me to lock up as soon as I walked in. His key ring was in the door, so I turned the key and was locked in. His light were off, as I’m assuming he wanted to look like he was closed for business.

“He” – I have no name – appeared from behind a partition. His pants were on, but top button was undone, zipper clearly pulled down. He disappeared again behind the same partition; I took it as an unspoken indication to follow.

He stood there (all 6’ 190 lbs of him), hands basically on his hips – expectant. I could have dropped to my knees immediately, but I stood, looked at him. Handsome in his own way – maybe 6’….roughly 180 lbs. A handsome enough face but one you could tell would be in command.

We stood there. I reached out to rub his crotch. He didn’t stop me. He was already stiff in his pants. I could feel the outline of his cock. I accentuated it in his pants as I pressed. It looked nice. Not anything record breaking, but that’s ok too.

I opened up his pants, as I knelt, and met his briefs. As I am apt to do, I licked and gnawed a little on the cotton mound in front of me. I pulled down the briefs in due time. As it was an unplanned meeting, he improvised a cock ring with a thick rubber band that was wrapped multiple times around the base of his cock. The dick itself was about 6.5”, with a nice upward curve. He head was smooth by the look of it (and eventually taste of it) and larger / thicker than the shaft to which it was attached.

After I licked the underside of the shaft and then curled my tongue around the entire head, I slowly, but deliberately took every single inch of shaft until I was scraping on those rubberbands. As I hit the root, he spoke but one word.

“Cocksucker” rolled off this tongue with equal parts: ease / affirmation / degradation. He drew out the word too. I think he liked hearing it that way, but on another level, I think the lengthening also allowed the word, the meaning, to sink in all the more.

It was more declarative, but with a sense of knowing, even though we’d just met. But let’s be honest, I trekked to his place in the cold and snow to suck a complete stranger’s cock in his work space. It’s not like he was going out on a limb.

Enthusiastically, I really went to work on him. As he was new, I tried various techniques to see his reaction. He was one of the few that didn’t / doesn’t respond to the dancing tongue on the underside as I use my mouth and bob and the same time. Everything else he seemed to be fine. I couldn’t find a sweet spot per se.

He was good at holding my head. He’d force here and there, but in my estimation, not enough. Still, he didn’t truly know me or how far he could take it.

He leaned against the shelving behind him. I grabbed onto his legs. I’d alternate on self-impaling or taking him slower, and wetter. He enjoyed it all.

He told me what a good job I was doing. I told him I wanted “to be your cocksucker”. He quickly came back with – “aren’t you already?”

Touche.

As I sucked, my cock was out. He told me to jack my cock. I did. I will now and then play with my dick while I suck, but it’s better to be told to do so. I had zero intention of getting off. I rarely do that during…or after.

I sucked. He moaned, though low, as not to alert the businesses on either side of him. He told me to keep jacking. He also told me he had huge loads. Massive ones.

At this point, I had gotten him close two or three times…..and then he’d push me away to hold off. I like edging a guy, but then I really want to take him over the brink. That said, I truly realize, it’s their call on when and how, and not me.

Which leads me to “how”. At this point he springs a surprise: he won’t cum until I do.

FUCK.

I’m like a lot of guys: if I cum first, I lose my momentum. But I was in the zone, I agreed. Naturally, I would have anyways, as I wasn’t leaving without his cum. Then there was surprise #2.

I had to shoot my load on his cock and suck it clean, then suck him off.

FUUUUUUCK.

Oddly, that got me twitching. It was more the dominance than the act of sucking my own load. I don’t care – and never have – about my own load. For as much of a cocksucker that I am, you think I’d be eating my own scum all the time, but I rarely rarely do.

As we were in his place of business, and cum doesn’t shoot exactly where one wants it to go, I questioned him if he was sure – and informing him I shoot very large loads myself. He told me not to worry about the floor, and he’d be the judge if I shot a lot of semen.

We stood facing each other. He reached over and played with my tits and I jacked my dick. He spoke of wanting to watch me suck others. He spoke of wanting to fuck my ass. All these things, really had me amped up. I told him I was ready to shoot. He nodded to do so.

Well you know me. I go weeks without cumming. So I shot. And shot and shot. And then shot some more. Most his cock or trimmed bush. Some hit the floor. Some went places I didn’t really notice. So to keep the momentum going, I immediately dropped to my knees. If I was taking my own load, it was still going to be hot as I did it. And it was.

I wrapped my lips around his now slimy cock. I took my own load while working one out of him. He fucking loved it, though he told me to tighten my lips. I complied. By the time he was on edge, his cock was clean of my jizz, and now I just awaited his.

He reached and held my head. I felt him throb before I felt the load. And the load just kept cumming. It was a fucking huge one too. Now and then, to make a guy feel better, I will faux-choke on his load. It’s rare I can’t take it easily, as I am very well versed on this. But twice, I gagged on this guys volume of seed. It just wouldn’t end. It was sliding down my throat and filling my mouth cavity at the same time. The load I just knocked out of the park all over his office was amateurish compared to what I was taking.

When I eventually milked out every drop and then cleaned him off, including some of my sperm that I had seen had hit his legs, he looked down at me and goes, “did I lie?”.

No……no he did not.

I got myself together. He made no attempt to wipe up my cum off the floor, at least while I was there. He watched me dress. He watched me go to the keys still hanging in the door and let myself out. Before I hit the outer door, I heard him relock everything.

I knew I’d be back.

Sunday, April 02, 2017

Efficiency

So there I was, at Starbucks, minding my own business.

....and by "my own business",  I meant, taking in some late morning caffeine, answering some emails, people watching and yes, checking the on-line apps to see who was nearby who might be in need of assistance.

Mornings like this are fairly useless........except for the caffeine. Even if you try to engage, it's a crapshoot that you get a reply. And on a Sunday morning (oh yeah - this is a close to real time post, even though I have lots of backlog) most of these girls just aren't up yet...........even though it's 10:00a.

So, I was minding my own business when I get pinged on Scruff......



It's a great opener.  There wasn't even a 'hi'.  I focused more on the 'gtfo' and honest to god, it gave me a boner right there in Starbucks. I beat a path to the door and to my car.

Now mind you, I "know" this guy. We've "met" at least four times now.....but you've read about it here, here and here, so he was a known entity, which is why the text was a little more casual in the details. I knew where he lived. I knew he and his roommates (yes, actual ones), are nudists, so there are no clothes on in the house.

While it's April - barely - and Spring, it's still chilly out. But being the model of efficiency, one the that less than eight minute drive (yes, I'm that good!), I unbuttoned my outer shirt and untiled the laces to my boots. I walked from the car with one less shirt on, only leaving on a tee.

I pushed open the vestibule door. Being that it's not insulated, the vestibule was colder than outside. Yet, there I kicked off my boots, pulled off my socks, dropped my pants and lifted my shirt.  The only thing to remain on were my glasses.

I pushed open the front door and walked in. There he sat, on the sofa in a robe that was fully open.

I guess nudist rules might only apply to me, but technically he was not naked. I didn't care.

Over I walked, put my glasses on the ottoman and went to my knees.

He was semi-flaccid. I took him into my mouth immediately. No tracing my tongue over the head or under the shaft. I went right to the heart of the matter. The earlier text made me understand this was no frills.

Sir began to stiffen up almost immediately. His hand went to my head, albeit only briefly, as they ended up going back to his own tits. He played with his nipples while I gave him head.

There were a few times I slowed down or stopped my feverish bobbing. Yes, it in some ways it distracted from the now, but going by his slight moans, he fucking loved the technique - especially when I was down to the pubes and still making my tongue dance on the underside of his shaft.

Around this time, I heard him snort some poppers. I hadn't seen them earlier, but I wasn't paying attention or he pulled them from his robe pocket. Shortly there after, they appeared under my nose. He held one nostril as I continued to suck, I inhaled, as it was the only polite thing to do since offered from the host. And then the other side.

I picked up my pace and enthusiasm - as one is apt to do after doing poppers. He moaned more, though lowly.

Since I know, or knew (past tense), he had at least two roommates, I half expected / fully-hoped, one would appear behind me. Or to the side of me. Or to the side of him.  I'll tell you right now, that didn't happen.

I don't know if they were home or not. I'm guessing by the no talking rule, that they could have been and he didn't want them to know. Personally, I think it was a power play - that I was there, as a cocksucker only. A utility. Not a person. Not really.

There was another round of poppers for both of us. I continued on my quest.

The moans became more frequent. I felt his nuts thinking I could gauge how tight they were in ratio to how close he was to ejaculation. They felt relaxed and not up and close to his body.

But the moans.

They kept coming. And soon he was.

Heavy volleys of sperm hitting the roof of my mouth, splashing against my tongue, and going against my tonsils.

"There you go, faggot - - eat it!"

I was a little surprised. I thought the no talking rule was universal, but clearly not. This reinforced my theory that I was just a thing, not a human.

I took every drop, as you knew I would. I even squeezed out all I could....and took that too. But you knew I'd do that too.

I swallowed too.  Duh.

After a short appropriate amount of time, I got up and went to the vestibule where, I put on my socks, when I realized I left my glasses inside. I reopened the door, walked in as he still sat there recovering, he said nothing. I said nothing. I grabbed my glasses and he non-verbally acknowledged why I was there.

I went back out, finished changing and headed back to my car, my boots still untied with my laces dragging behind me.

For a good hour afterwards, I still tasted the load. It was great.

I didn't expect a follow-up text. And I never got one.


It's like I wasn't even there.......to him.

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Cigarman

It has been a while since I've seen him. Years in fact.

Somewhere in these blog archives you can find my two encounters with him. I was hoping it would be more regular, but it never quite worked that way.  Ironically, after running into him again, I've seen him twice.

Mike hit me up a few months back. Instead of passing through town, he now lived here. Our schedules were such that we could make the connection. I feel he was annoyed with my lack of availability during his times of access.

What I didn't know at the time - he was back and free, as he became divorced. He was on his own, he was horny, he had free time.......it was just when I did not.

A few weeks back I get a text from him. Am I free.  It was 2p on a weekday. I was working, but as it turns out, I was working from home that day. Things were looking up.

The problem, if any, was that naturally he wanted to smoke a cigar while I serviced him. But he was staying with his sister while he looked for a place.....so it had to be in the garage.  It was like 18 degrees out.

He asked if I wanted to light up before I got there. I said I'd let him know. About 2 minutes out I said, "fire it up". His reply was, "I already did".

As I walked up the drive, behind the house and placed my hand on the side door of the garage, I could smell his cigar already. I told him so as I entered. He seemed surprised.

There was Mike.

He was sitting on a lawn chair in the center of the car-less garage.

Despite the frigid temps - which weren't much better in the unattached, uninsulated and unheated garage - Mike had his jeans down around his ankles, boots still on. While wearing a down vest, the front was open as was his shirt. His very hirsute chest was on display as the cross hanging off the gold chain dangled in his chest hairs.  He had a trucker cap on as well.

While I know he is a white collar dude, everything about this, including the Camacho cigar he had in his mouth said blue collar. It was quite a nice mix.

He left a towel on the floor in front of him. I used it to kneel on. While I didn't really want to get my knees dirty, in reality, I don't need to take my pants off - cold or not.  I was there to service. Service a cigar man.

I was down on my knees. I admired the cock. I admired the man. I admired the man with a cigar.


Yeah - I don't truly get it either. It's not for everyone, which I totally get. It might seem odd from a non-smoker, but a cigar man will always - always! - get at least a second look from me.  It doesn't matter their age or body type, but they will get a look.

Deep down I feel cigar men can be more masculine. Of course, there is zero evidence to support that, but on a gut level and a sexual one, it resonates with me.  It also takes me back to the first cigar man I blew when I was 15 or 16......but that's another story.

Mike had the cigar in his mouth and still had a sigh as my lips wrapped around his 6" cock.  As he sighed, smoke spilled from his mouth and cigar.  While only 6", it has a really nice head on it. And he knows what he's doing with it, so 6" is more than fine. With me it's about how one carries themselves and their attitude.

He is big on putting his hands on my head and behind it. Sometimes with the cigar between his fingers, sometimes not. I'm good either way, as I love the feel of a man holding me on his cock, even if it's just for show - as I think we all know, I'll all too willing a participant in this cocksucking role I've taken on.


I will say I was surprised when he asked me to stand up. He put his mouth on my cock. Now, you know, I can take or leave someone sucking me. I like it of course, I think most men do. But usually, it's not a must-be with me. I like performing the act more.  But lord, he surprisingly knew how to suck cock - - like a fucking pro!

Now and then he'd pull off, take in his cigar then blow smoke right on my dick before going back down on it. It was very erotic in ways I'm not sure I truly understand. But ultimately, it was me back on my knees.

Perhaps it is coincidence, but I don't think so, but of the three times we've been together at this point, he hits the ejaculation point close to the end of his cigar. Now, when I play with a cigar guy, I want it to last as long as his cigar does, so perhaps I'm part of the equation than even I recognize.

As he got closer, the grip got tighter. Early on, there had been conversation on his end, about creaming my face. I knew this was off the table at this point. He wasn't going to let me up. He wasn't going to waste a drop of his jizz.

More importantly, I wasn't going to waste a drop of it.  And I didn't.

His grip was solid. My his cock flexed in my mouth - then flooded it. He bit on his cigar as he cursed nonsense while cum flowed out of his dick.

I stayed on it and then milked the shaft with my hand to squeeze out any remaining drops. As I did - I did not waste one drop of that load.

As I am apt to do, what didn't go down my throat I held in my mouth. I showed him his seed. He gripped my throat - TIGHT. Very tight, cigar in hand, then stroked my throat "forcing" a reaction where I'd have to swallow.

I was rock hard sticking out of my jeans.

I stood up to get myself together to go. I was going to put my cock away, when Mike told me to jack off - and shoot on him.

He sat in his sister's patio furniture chair, still working the last of his cigar, still with his down vest on and shirt wide open.

As I stroked, he told me how he wanted to feel my ass wrapped around his cock one day while he smoked a cigar. I agreed - and that it should be from behind with my hands up against the wall. He liked that.

It did not take me long, as even with the frozen weather inside the garage, he had made me super horny.  I asked him twice if he was sure he wanted me to blow my nut on him, but he insisted. So I did.

You've read here before that I shoot big loads - and it's not bragging if it's true. They're big on 2-3 day loads. This one was maybe 14.

Personally, I didn't think it was that large. But it hit his vest, his shirt, his chest, his jeans and his shoulder. He was in heaven with this.

After this, I tucked my cock away. .....and then went on my way, my clothes still faintly smelling like his cigar.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Load Collector

He had hit me up on Scruff a few times. Nice looking enough. 32, 5’10”, slim build, nice face and beard, ok dick.

He didn’t care about his cock. He cared about mine. He was sub all the way.

For whatever reason, I was intrigued. There was a lot of back and forth – and then periods of nothing, mostly on his end. He was either busy, found someone better or was high. That last part is my assumption. He was so adamant about not getting high – after asking if I did – that I assumed he was trying to convince me of something that was a blatant untruth. I still think it.

Late one afternoon, he mentioned how fucking horny he was. I was too. Horny enough to consider this. However, I was at the office and would be for some time. This did not deter him. Before long, I was throwing caution to the wind and inviting him to my office building.

Now, at first he was all about blowing me. But my take was that if I was going to do this, I wanted his ass. I know he was willing, because he one of the first pictures he shot to me was his butt and butthole. He said he wasn’t prepped for that. I told him to get himself prepped for that. He said he would.

Like all tricks – he was late, but only by 15 minutes or so. Still, it was annoying as I wanted to get off and go home. The later it got, the more likely it would be that security might do rounds on the floor. I couldn’t afford that.

He represented much better in real life than in the pics he sent. It’s a rarity, but dare I say, I think I represent better than in pics too. 5’10”, 175, dark hair and beard. When he exposed his cock, it was ok, and tied up it seemed to make it hard. While I kind of cared, on another level I did not. His cock was not my focus this evening.

Barely in my office, with the door shut and secured, he went for the lights……..to turn them off.

By experience, I’m somewhat of an exhibitionist – even if it is in my own office. I have windows. Three of them. Sun had set and the LEED building has motion sensors on them which turn on the lights. Sure, there are building near by – but you’d need a fucking pair of binoculars to see a thing. Still, he was uncomfortable having anyone have the remote possibility of seeing a thing. I was disappointed.

Not only that, it made it harder for me to see. I tried to use the dim light from my computer screen as my guide, but after a minute or three or inactivity, the screens go dark.

The boy was prepared. Boy. Ha! He was 32 – allegedly.

He went to a chair in my office and sat in front of me. I was already taking out my cock. As much as I’d have him do it, there was a timing issue, as in there was only so much I wanted to take to fuck around in a semi-public area.

The guy was a decent cocksucker. More than decent even, but that’s not what either of us were here for. So I got him up off of his knees and directed him to bend over the desk.

I was planning on, and happy to use, my spit as lube. He was a prepared boy and brought some. I noticed he brought no rubber, so that was fine by me. It was one other thing I didn’t have to navigate around.

32 isn’t that young, but this boy had been around. My cock – which isn’t small – easily sunk into his hole. Not a lot of resistance. This guy had clearly seen a lot of action – and I asked him. He immediately went into his first time, being a teen and taking 10”.

I knew from there he liked cock and clearly went on to take many – mine now included.

I cannot compete with 10”, but something told me this guy didn’t care. I went about my job pumping his shitter hard and deep. Knowing he was opened up, I wanted to…..no, needed to….make him feel it. So I nailed his ass and pinned him between the mid-section and the desk.

Since he was more….shall we say, pliable….and he didn’t really use his ass muscles at all (or maybe they were shot from overuse), I got to fuck for a while. I almost – almost – had to gear myself up mentally to get there physically.

In the end (pun intended!), I shot a nice big hot load deep into his guts. I bottomed out (again, not difficult) and was far in as possible before I jetted my semen up inside of him – that went even farther - just like so many before me had done.

I don’t know if he was satisfied with it at all. I can’t say I was. I like the experienced guys, but this guy was a load collector. I’m not complaining, as I’ve clearly been in his shoes. He wasn’t bad by any mean, but overall he was just ‘meh’.

Wednesday, March 01, 2017

Young and Hung

He was all of 20.....if that.

Maybe he looked / seemed younger because he was all of 5'5".....with shoes on. I think it was the height thing, more than the age thing, as to why I put him off for weeks on end. While not quite a foot shorter than I, he was approaching it.

But at an opportune time, he messaged me on Grindr and I replied. Yes: I was in the mood to suck some cock.

I did ask for a pic and got this.


Yes, I did mean - but didn't specify - one of his face, but I got one of his nice schlong instead. I was in a for a visit.

And while he pinged me, and while I asked if he wanted head, he did mention, his cock might taste of lube, as he had jacked off two hours before.  Ahhhh youth. Pumps one off and ready to again.

I told him with a cock like his, he could pull it directly out of an ass and I'd go down on it. He seemed to like that statement.

I suppose it was my luck he lived in off-campus housing because going to a dorm would have been too too weird. He apologized in advance that his place was a mess, as he had guests the last few nights. In reality, I was going to a 20 year old college student's place......I would have been more shocked if it had been cleaned or vacuumed.

He let me in and in the center of the room was an air mattress. I guess he did have guests.

There was no fanfare. He just walked back to his bedroom and I followed. He pulled down his pants and kicked back on the unmade bed. With me still in the suit I wore to work, got on my knees, onto his bedroom floor.

Being 20, he was already hard. And he was thick.

The pic you see was taken from the side. If you see it from the underside, you get a different view. And it was not just big looking because of his size. This was a nice cock.  Period.  I'm guessing 7.5", but when combined with the girth......yowza.

It's doubtful he ever propped himself up to even look down at me. He was flat on his back, with legs hanging over the side of the mattress. He had thrown one arm over his eyes. I'm not sure if this was a relaxation technique or an avoidance mechanism.  Either way - I had his cock into my throat.

And it was, and remained hard. I was doing something right.

The flesh indeed have a lube taste to it. It wasn't a show-stopper by any means.

While he had gotten his nut two hours earlier and even though he was 20, I had to work for it. And honestly, I was ok with that. I would have been happy to do this for hours.  That said, I did have to be somewhere and couldn't spend vast amounts of time being the cocksucker to a college kid.

Sure there was verbal, but never enough. I'm a man who loves all verbal - the dirtier the better. But you need some experience for good skills. Not to say someone that age couldn't have a lot of experience - - I certainly did. And I mean a LOT.

But I pushed the envelope a little.

"You wanna cum for daddy?"

It just came out of my mouth all too easily.

It's not that I relish being considered a 'daddy', but the facts are the facts. He was 20, and pinging someone who clearly was not. And while I was his age once, and going after guys who were now my age, I never considered myself chasing a 'daddy'.

Times change though. The term 'daddy' seems more prevalent now than it was way back when. So I made an assumption, said what I said.......eventually two more times.........and didn't get a response telling me I was incorrect.

For a guy who had squirted a few hours before, I will be the first to say the size of the load was way impressive. It had little to no flavor, but that's ok too.  I wasn't there to be a connoisseur of sperm.

I was there to suck a boy and collect his load.

I'm confident he'll invite me back.  I'm confident I'd go when asked.