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.

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.

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.

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.