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.