Thursday, February 28, 2019

Jeff - the Garage

“Jeff” wanted to fuck.

He pinged me as he was driving home from work. By chance, I was home a little early and available. He wanted me naked when he arrived. Like any guy, they assume that is when the door is open or left open for them, that they will find me without a stitch of clothes on.

I could do that………………or……………………

He texted saying he’d be there in 2 minutes. I went out to the garage, and opened the door for his arrival. The full garage door. With me standing in the bay – naked. Not quite naked. I had a knee brace on due to an injury.

It was cold out. Not winter cold yet, but not standing outside naked warm either. That wasn’t the point. The point was to elicit a reaction and I did. The point was to show my compliance and I did. The point was to take it one step further than his request, and I did.

I would see the grin / sneer as he pulled up. While later he would tell me he didn’t believe I had done it, there didn’t look like an ounce of surprise on his face as he parked his truck and got out.

There he was in suspender and a bow tie, right from work. He had to get home. I know that. He knew it. Yet here he was, following me inside.

The time for coyness was over – since there was none to begin with. Obvi.

I left nothing to the imagination, except for my right knee, but he didn’t look like he was into that. There would be no foreplay. At all. No cocksucking. No kissing. No touching of his beard. I’d say, clothes wouldn’t even come off…………….but of him. Me? Well………..too late for that.

I had the lube out. He took his cock out. His suit, suspenders and all, stayed on. His suit was lighter gray. He was old enough, smart enough to know, lube on the cock and on my hole could make for a stain in the crotch region. He didn’t need me to remind him. Anyways, he was running on hormones and endorphins, what I said wouldn’t have mattered anyways.

Bent over my office desk at home, he pushed into me. Hard. He is thick. He is always amazed at my tightness. Actually, I kind of am too. For all the fucks I’ve taken, for all the years, I snap back amazingly well. Too well sometimes. Some guys just struggle to get in.

Once I open though, I open. He felt that hole blossom and took full advantage of it.

This was a ‘from the behind’ FUCK. There were to be no niceties. I was there to be used to get off into. He knew it. I knew it. And he knew I knew it. I was a utility. That’s it.

The rough was fuck. No denying that. I was expecting it though. I was loving it. Even with a lot of tops, the distant fuck sometimes isn’t distant enough. There are times you want (or, I want anyways) to feel just not good enough – less than human. But damn if most tops make some kind of connection anyways. They’re good guys – but sometimes you don’t want them to be. Right now, Jeff was not there to make a connection, unless you include having his DNA coursing through your body.

With just over 5 minutes of pounding, I was receiving seed. He was losing it.

5 minutes later, he was dressed and gone, though his DNA would linger in for half a day - if not forever.

Friday, February 22, 2019

Pimped Lite

Shortly after receiving the co-worker / black load, I “happened to” chat with friend and fellow blogger, Mr. Steed. He is always great to relay some real-time tales to, and he’s always sage with his advice, even if no one asked for it. He sees me for me – there is no pretense, and no shame.

 He liked the idea of a guy fucking me in an office in the middle of the work day. Of course, if you’ve read him, that is old hat to him. He’s much more adventurous that I can ever dream of being.

Yet, while we were chatting, I got hit up by another guy. Close by. Not “at work” close, but nothing short of a 10 minute walk.

The limited stats weren’t my style: 5’6”, 125lbs. That is just so tiny for me. And I don’t want to cast dispersions, but you see stats like that and you think small dick too. We all do – don’t lie. We hope for more, of course, but those instances are rare.

 His texting style was odd and disjointed. And btw, I’m relaying all of this somewhat real time to Mr. Steed. The would-be hook-up is ignoring my requests for cock description and a pic. Normally, I don’t care about a face pic but I’m getting partial information and well, you just never know.

As he writes more and more, it is becoming clear that English is not his first language. As we abut a university, I’m thinking more and more Chinese, or at least Asian.

I’m an equal opportunity fuckee, but for the most part Asian men are not attracted to me, and to a degree, they fall farther down on my list as preferences. Yes, I get that makes me a HORRIBLE man, but it is a preference, nothing set in stone. There are exceptions to every rule and like/dislike. Clearly. You’ve read my shit. You know what I’ll do, when, who and where too.

Still, the lack of 4-1-1 was more of a determining factor than race. And to be honest, I’m not really good with lack of language skills. I’m not one of those, you’re here so assimilate, kind of guys, but when you can’t even get a basic question understood, I worry about in person as well.

Since I already had one load in me, I was ready to pass, as I’d have to slip out of work. I told Mr. Steed as well. His response: “do it for me”. Followed up with a “….and then tell me about it”.

This would not be the first time I’ve been directed to take a cock for him. Once he had me go out on his birthday and take a load. Stranger’s cum in a bad area of town. My taking a stranger’s load would be my gift to him, said he. This new day was not his birthday, but precedence had been set.

When I said I’d go, Mr. Steed writes back, “My dick is hard”.

If you haven’t caught on yet, at this point I’m not going to get fucked by the probable Chinese guy. I’m going to get fucked FOR Mr. Steed. At this point the fucker barely even matters. This is quite a turn of the tables for me. Usually, as the bottom, I’m the one that doesn’t matter, I’m just a vessel for the top. Now the top is just a vessel for both Mr. Steed and myself.

I get there and the guy comes out. He’s older than I thought. Maybe 40. He is indeed Asian, and I’m correct in guessing Chinese – and yes, you can usually tell by looking at a person. I tower over him as we go up to his walk-up. The place is messy-ish and smells of a bad gas stove. I’ve had places like this…………in my 20s!

There are no words.

We go back to the bedroom which is immaculate. White everything. I toss my coat on a chair and then sit there. He smiles nervously and stands near me. I reach out to his crotch and there is nothing there of note. I play with my own nipples until he takes a hint and plays with them himself. He does pretty well, actually.

I unzip his pants, but still feel nothing. I find out it’s because he has at least two more layers beneath his jeans. Slightly odd, but ok. Don’t get excited, there is still not a lot there. As it will turn out, 4” or so, hard. Uncut. I remind myself, internally, this is not for me.

He grabs my head and pulls it to his cock. To be honest, this is a move I did not anticipate. I fall into the stereotype, that unless they’re in a Bond movie, Asian men are more docile, more reserved. Quiet, even.

His hand petted my head like I was a dog. And I mean, I’m in a strangers place sucking his dick on close to a moment’s notice. I am kind of a dog. Not that he knew that. But let’s say, deep ‘throating’ him wasn’t a problem. Getting to my throat was. It was never gonna reach.

Abruptly, he pulled out and pointed to the edge of the bed. Again, no words. I pulled down my pants and bent over. He got lube out (he really wasn’t gonna need it), and pushed in.

This is where I’ll give the guy credit. He was never going to be a formidable fuck. Our size difference in height and his in cock, wasn’t going to be a forever memorable fuck. But he did do a thing where he’d pause – kind of for effect – and then SLAM into me. It kind of worked.

I’d egg him on, but I got a broken English, “pardon?”. He wasn’t getting anything I was saying. At all. Hence the no talking at all. The language barrier was probably impenetrable.

He stopped the slam fucked and moved an ottoman out and have me bend over that. Lower for him, I guess. He just pumped. If I’m being 100% honest here – and why not? - while he fucked, I was drafting this blog post in my head. How to incorporate elements of Steed into my own breeding. This will give him a big head.

Nothing to know he was getting close, and then his breathing almost turned to almost a slight whimper. And then an immediate feeling of getting my second load of the day. Before 11am.

Without words, we both get dressed and he escorts me out.

Walking back, I tell Steed I got the load – and that I was drafting the post in my head during. “Good or Bad”, Steed asked. When I asked for clarification on the post or the fuck, he replied for the latter. And then how quickly did he shoot – and I tell him.

”Good Boy!”. Followed up with, “I know faggots crave approval”.

How fucking he right he is.

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Work Fuck

He’d been hitting me up on Grindr and disappearing just as fast. Clearly he works near me – and I mean so much so, that he is somewhere in the same organization. He’d as a question, get an answer and then there’d be no follow-up. Normally I’d block someone like that, but he works here, so could be convenient at times and secondly – he was black. And now and again, I fucking love dark dick.

And his was dark. Not light or even medium skinned.

My bigger problem with him was his changing profiles – deleting and reestablishing – and reconnecting with me, like he didn’t think I would know it was him. Yet I didn’t completely block him because of, well, dick. Or potential dick. I love dick. And cum.

This time, right after the holidays when it was still slow, he reached out and said his office was available. He gave me a rough idea where, but no way I’d find it on my own and when you get into the bowels of this place (no pun intended), you lose cell service. So he met me at a determined location and I’d follow at a respectable distance so no one would know we were together.

He was thinner than his pics let on – and his stats were almost non-existent. His beard that he sports in his pic wasn’t nearly as long or full. He had no showable bulge to gauge his size. Previous pics showed a thick dick with a huge head. Those pics would be misleading.

His office was hidden, but not necessarily enough. The door was shut and locked. He took off his shoes and pants, but left the black patterned silky underwear on. I went to my knees and gnawed on it. At first there was no visible change to what was underneath, but when I looked up to make eye contact – with him looking down on me, and at me – that he started to grown.

I pulled them down past the balls. The nuts were teeny. The cock rose to about 7” and thinner than expected, but still decent. See?


The guy was all business, so to speak. No words – or almost so. No lube. Made it clear early on I’d lube up my own ass with my spit and one of the few words he did speak was after deciding my short-lived bj session was going into fuck mode, “get it wet”.

I slobbered and spit all over that black shaft, turned around – pants around my ankles – and braced myself against the desk top. Again – all business. The dick was positioned too high, so after I reached back and put him on target, that was it. One fell swoop and he was buried up my ass. No waiting. No easing in. To the balls in one push. I took it well. He didn’t notice, or didn’t care.

The fucking started right away. He had good technique, but nothing outstanding. This was clearly not for my pleasure. He wasn’t saying he liked it or not. I hope he did, of course. I asked a few times, but he said nothing. I kind of knew he wouldn’t utter a word.

He just kept pumping my ass. He never varied the speed, intensity or depth, though he was all in each down stroke.

Now he spoke up. Giving no other indication he was close, as breathing rate stayed the same, he kept the same fuck rhythm, he finally said something but softly. “Can I shoot in your ass?”

He was already fucking me raw without a question to that. It was his office, so I knew he wasn’t gonna shoot it on the ground. I saw no trashcan here he could dump it. I just replied, “pump that seed up my ass”.

And he did. He shot a long fucking time. Almost silently. He said in text before, that he had a big load, but all guys think that. He kept it up my ass too, because I think he was still shooting. Naturally, started grasping his shaft with my muscles. He didn’t react the way most guys do. So he either wasn’t feeling it, or he was guarded. As I do with all guys, I aim to get every drop.

He pulled out and went back to put on his pants. I reached down and got mine from around my ankles. He opened the door and I left with no promise or discussion to return.

After getting back to my office, for some reason I felt………uncertain. I reached behind and used the camera to confirm: leakage. Semen leakage.



He must have cum a fuck of a lot, because I have never leaked, even with multiple fucks. Good for him. Good for me.

At least until the suit pants dried.

Monday, February 11, 2019

Chicago 9 - Black & Final Fuck

It wasn't immediately after the Polish guy, but he couldn't have been out of the building that long before my final fuck of this trip showed up.

Black. Built. Tall(ish). Masculine. Hung.......well about as hung as the last guy.

This time, my door was unlocked but I was face down on the edge of the bed - ass would be the first thing he'd see.  I had my legs wide too. There would - or should - be no misinterpretation about the nature of his visit.

"Motherfucker" - was the word out of his mouth, after the door was shut and he'd walked the few steps in until he could see his prey.

I heard the coat unzip and it hit the ground. I heard pants being taken off - and I'm assuming a shirt. While I love sucking cock, I was hoping not to have to.  I wanted this to be an unadulterated fuck. A pounding to knock me up and leave. Black on white aggression.  Use me and leave.

But he wanted sucked. He wanted me to make him hard. He wanted me to get him wet.  I TOTALLY get all that - and in reality this was his scene; not mine. I wanted it to be the same scene, but he's the one with the dick and load, so - and pun fully intended - he calls the shots.



The man knew how to fuck face. Yet, I am a man who knows how to take it. I even welcome it.

Like the Polish fellow, this guy knew how to fuck and I realized early on, it wasn't going to be a pump and dump.

We started off with me face down, but there really was not a position in which I wasn't porked.  Kneeling.  Standing, bent over. On my back on the bed. Bent over the sofa.  On the sofa. In the bathroom, him behind me, both of us looking in the mirror.

The session was well over an hour. Save for the face fucking, there were no breaks. Sure, he pulled out and stuck his black cock  back in my mouth, but no - it was like 75 minutes of continual fucking.

Had it just been him, I might have been sore. But considering the last 36 hours, I was well broken in. 

I totally get that I do some of what I do for immediate and fleeting validation, but I won't lie that it felt good to hear what a great ass I had. He mentioned it a number of times while deep dicking me. He didn't have to, I mean, he was getting what he wanted.

The poor floor. Everyone knew what was going on in my room. Him moaning. The slap of skin on skin as he pumped my ass. My begging for his cum.  Him telling me - and everyone - he was shooting.

It was hot.

He made a hasty retreat, after pulling his now clean cock out of my mouth. That was fine. I wasn't looking to make friends or anything. And I had an early plane to catch. I got three hours of sleep before Uber'ing to O'Hare with two loads still firmly up my ass.

It was a great conference.  I hear.


Load Count

Oral:   03
Anal:  09
Final:  12