Before committing this to the blog, or if I was even going to, I was telling a trusted friend this tale. I told him of my hesitancy and he insisted that I had to write it. I’m doing it, yet I am not so sure. Yet, here we go…….
I was walking the beach on a beautiful sunny day when I got pinged on Scruff. He was 0.23 miles away,
which in theory isn’t far, but that is as the crow flies. It is much longer when you are walking and there
are side roads and long winding driveways.
Normally I don’t show who I have hooked up with here (save a flash of a body part now and then), but
for one thing, I’m never ever ever gonna see this guy again. And secondly, it will put into context why I
agreed to leave the sandy shore and go to see him.
I don't normally attract guys who look like this. Maybe it should have been my first clue.
The usual on-line exchange happened – nothing out of the ordinary other than he really liked to eat
ass. I mentioned it was one of my fave things to do. He liked to munch ass before he fucked. I’m down
with that. He mentioned he even had a rim seat. I’m down with that too. But as it was a beach town, I
did think ‘who the fuck travels with a rim seat?’
The crow and my feet are two different thing: that .23 miles is like a 25 minute walk. The house was
secluded…..up winding side streets and up longer driveways…..or mud paths, as the case may be. I felt
the need to be covered in Deep Woods Off. It was also a good place for a body to disappear. Yet….here I
was….and I kept going.
Mr. Muscle was exactly has he advertised, in the looks department. Handsome. Good body. His dick
wasn’t hard yet, but……….at this point, I could live with whatever it turned out to be. We went inside,
but hell, no one could see us where we were and I do love outdoor sex. But no. Into the house/cabin we
went. He was wearing thin, threadbare tighty whities.
I find out he doesn’t just have a rim seat but a sling too. Ok. I’m into that.
The guy seemed a little manic. I wondered if he was on anything, and he might have been. He wasn’t so
off the charts that I felt I needed to go. He was fooling with something on the bed and bent over just so.
I ran my hand over his cotton-covered ass, knelt down and pulled them down just so. He remained still
and waiting at this point. I parted his cheeks and licked his crack. Then I dug in. He moaned. He wiggled
his ass in my face, pushing back so I could be engulfed by his butt.
If you rim, you realize the risks. Or you should. Sometimes you find about them the hard way, like a
parasite you might pick up and leaves you and your GI tract useless for days. Or you taste unclean hole,
despite all their efforts……………IF they make efforts, that is. But it’s like scaling Everest, you know the
risks, yet you persist for a greater purpose. Or maybe I’m just kidding myself.
So I’m tongue fucking this guy and he’s moaning. But I’d find out he’s not moaning for exactly the same
reason I am.
My tongue is about to make another run up into his lower colon when I right before I dive in, I see that
while I’m going in, he’s coming out. The turtle head.
My reactions are lightning fast. I jump back. “NOOOOO dude, I am SO NOT into that!!!!!”
He kind of apologized and didn’t go use the restroom, so I guess he just pulled it back in? So he leads
me over to the rim seat……
At this point the friend to whom I’m telling this story laughs and screams, “YOU STAYED??????”
It was only then I realized how perverted this all sounded. And it led to my decision almost not to tell
But stay I did. And when we went to the rim seat it was I who sat and he who scooted under. And I’ll
give him this, he ate hole like a champ. He was getting it wet and sloppy for fucking. Aces!
I’d like to say I should have known better, but I wasn’t quite thinking in this regards either….or just
blocking it out. He started moaning, asking me to take a dump in his mouth. Involuntarily, my ass
clenched, keeping anything I had in my bowels firmly in place.
Still (!), I stayed. Still he ate. And every few minutes would beg. I felt my defenses being chipped away.
I’d think to myself, “what is the harm?” I wasn’t the one who was going to eat it. If I didn’t have to see
it, should I care? Would just knowing it happened completely freak me out?
I tried to talk myself into by saying in my head, “it’s one of the few things I have NOT yet done, and
wouldn’t I regret a missed opportunity, no matter how disgusting I found it.” Part of me truly knew that
answer. Part of me – a small part – thought “eh….why not?”.
Mind you, I’m the kind of guy who would is a bit private about my bathroom routine. Sure, I’ll have sex
in a bathroom stall, but for anything else in there, I’d just prefer no one was in the room at all – should it
be public. Even at home alone, the door is closed during.
See? I can be shy and demure.
Yet here I was, in a rim seat with a hot guy below me making my ass feel great with his mouth. Silently,
without verbalizing a thing, I attempted. ….and attempted. …..and attempted. I’m assuming that he
was right under me, he had to see some physical manifestation of my trying to give him what he
I’m still not 100% sure if it was my body or mind that couldn’t produce a thing for him. Probably a
combo. While my conscious self seemed to be open to the idea, the subconscious side of me wasn’t
allowing it. Mr. Muscle Shit Eater was not thrilled with this. Of course, I’m thinking: c’mon – how many
time do your hook-up actually get into this, let alone do the deed?
So soon it was onto the bed. While he wasn’t nice about it and it was a rough fuck, he did come
through with his part of the bargain. He pumped my hole in a harsh and fast manner. I think it took him
all of two minutes to come and it didn’t seem all that pleasurable for him. If I’m being honest, I think he
just did it to get me the fuck out of there.
.......and that is why I stayed.