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.
