Crooked

I was out of town for a planned party. But I went down a day early because the rest of the times I'd be with, and staying at, my friends. I needed a little 'me' time'. 

Well.......'me' and anyone who walked in the hotel room door to use me. 

While it was a decent run of strangers I am limiting this series to two. The super average ones aren't worth the effort in my seemingly limited blogging time. 

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Oddly, this one is about my first outing. 

I checked into the hotel and soon thereafter logged onto any number of site. Grinrd, Scruff, A4A, Recon, BBRT and Sniffies. The latter has never - and I mean NEVER - been successful for me. Usually some light chit chat, but no one every looking really - or at least not looking for me. 

Within a minute I got hit up on Sniffies. He was over at Barnes & Noble, a mile away, and about to rub one out in their bathroom, but if I wanted to suck him, that'd be better.  I wanted to suck him. He said he gotten off earlier, but was up for the task.  

He showed. It shouldn't be such a big thing to publish, but c'mon, these guys are flakes no matter which app you're using. 

The guy was ok. I'd say 'not my type', but that the fuck do I know?  I'll say he was well put together. For him, the perfect hair, clothes, accessories. A little moon faced, but eager. In a way, more pretty than handsome. Not feminine, but not masculine. An everyman? 

But he knew the drill. Only the pants came off. It was a blowjob. I have never understood the guys who feel the need to strip completely for head. He didn't want to stand, but lean back on the bed with me on my knees between his legs. 

Here is where he stood out:  besides being verbal - which is a huge plus - he was aggressive in non-traditional ways.  He grabbed my phone and said he'd get on line and find someone else. I signed on the phone and let him do basically whatever he wanted. 

As it would turn out, he'd take pics of me sucking his cock and send them to randos on Sniffies. 

I would find this out after he left. He left no guy nearby un-messaged. He was hitting up anyone and everyone seeing if they wanted to come by and fuck me while I sucked his cock. But he was doing it under my profile. 

Unlike the above, the photos he took were not cropped and showed all of me 

Some guys in my shoes would be horrified, offended, used or violated. I felt nothing but admiration for this guy. And he was contacting guys on-line. The chances of anyone actually showing were slim.  As it would turn out - only one would. Proven wrong again, am I. 

There was a knock. The other guy answered it. I was in place. Back to the door. Pants off. 

At first I didn't see him. I heard pants coming off. I heard the first guy offer up my ass. Then I felt the guy behind me.  He wasn't quite "ready" for my ass yet. I would go ahead and swap dicks in my mouth - original guy to new one, and then back again. And repeat. 

But the guy's cock......fuck.  Thick. Very thick. Hard to mouth, at least artfully. Thickness wasn't the entire issue......or even the primary one. 

That was. 

THAT was quite a kink to the shaft, no?

It didn't easily fit in a mouth and I was wondering how / if it would fit up an ass.  I was about to find out. 

The original guy told him to get behind me and he followed the command. I tossed the lube his way. And there we went.  I'd say the guy was rough on purpose, but I think the truth of it is that he wasn't skilled. At all. But with a bit hit of poppers he got in but there would be no pause for adjustment. He sank in....the entire way.  It was fucking heaven. 

The first guy saw the elation on my face and went, "fuck yeah!" and presented me his cock. Now it was just a spit roast. 

The guy behind me went on to plow. Not a lot of finesse, but it was a quick on-line hook-up in a sleazy hotel room with strangers. No one was going for any awards on style. 

This would go on for a while. The one behind me was in no hurry to cum. The one in front of me jacked off a few hours before so I had to really work it. Of course, I did.  I'm a trooper. Oh, and a cocksucker. 

The feeder kept checking his watch. I knew he was on a short leash from his husband, who didn't know he was there. I worked harder and achieved the load.  He tried to tell the guy behind me to cum too - as he wanted it timed, but you know that's iffy at best. 

He apologized as he straightened up. He had to go, but for us to have fun. 

The fucker was slow to cum. I'm not really a load collector. I do like the art of extraction, but you know, sleazy hotel sex and multiple postings, at some point you want the guy to get off so you can find the next victim. 

It took about another 20 minutes before he got there. So many times he'd completely withdraw just to punch it back in. I loved that feeling. 

He did it once more, with the full sink-in when he let loose. I fucking loved that too. 

I went down and sucked him clean after he pulled out.  He liked that. I loved it. 

He went on his way. I went looking for those victims.  

Suk Me

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Cigar Daddy

I've been told in no uncertain terms that it shouldn't matter how busy I am, that I should be providing tales of sex to the likes of you.  I've been fucking blog-shamed. 

I get it. I had it coming........pun fully intended. 

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It's been a crappy few months at work, and as we navigate the final part of the budget season, things have been extremely tense. But it was Thanksgiving week (yes, a timely post at that!) and few people were around on the day before - so yours truly left the office at 2:00p.  

The idea wasn't exactly for sex, but to relax with a cigar. 

I have a location where I can smoke uninterrupted and also not smell up my car and house. Yes, when I partake with a cigar, I still have limitations on what even I can stand and how I like things. Sometimes during these times alone - and they are usually alone - I will do a live Instagram session. 

There are ton of guys out on IG that love men with cigars. I'm one of them, and I'm one of them. Like men in leather, men with cigars always sounds hotter than it is in actuality. It's like porn. Admit it, you've never seen a hunky cable guy, truck driver, or even an in-shape fireman. 

I'm smart enough to know where I am in terms of attraction. I don't over-reach. I get a lot of fawning from guy on IG who insist on calling me "Sir".  Me!

While I've corrected them, it's of little use. Their fantasies are theirs and who am I to continually burst a bubble of a guy / guys I'm never ever ever gonna meet? 

It is an inherent problem of guys who smoke cigars:  people assume they are the top. 

I get it. Totally. They're phallic. They exude masculinity. They infer power. 

I also get that I'm a big-dicked, sometimes cigar smoking bottom. Be true to your school, eh guys? 

Yet here I was, not really hitting it out of the park on IG. So I ended that and while I worked an Asylum Ogre (7 x 70), which can take up to two hours to really get through, I scrolled through Scruff and Grindr and Sniffies instead. 

There he was. 30.  Looked younger. Some pics were good, some made him look a little fey.  Dyed hair. Nail polish. Twink-adjacent, if you will.  Without reading the profile I knew if 'top' appeared at all in his profile it would be that he was looking for one. I wasn't wrong. 

But I was in a mood. And even though I had gotten off the day before (another post; another time), the cigar affect was affecting me. I hit him up. He all too willingly replied back.  Visiting the family,  in from NYC for Turkey Day. He was willing. I talked him in to being able. 

He said he'd be there in 20. I said make it 15. He made it in 12.  Good boy. 

"Gabe" was more handsome in person than in his photos. He looked well younger than 30. He being maybe 150lb, 5'7"-ish, short, but scruffy brown hair and some facial hair. In his own way, he was adorable. 

I had sent him a r/t pic of me smoking a cigar, so he knew that would be a part of this, like it or not. Best case scenario, his clothes would smell of smoke. 

I had a semi as he arrived. I was fully erect as we locked the door. He felt it. I made sure of it. 

He felt "it" through the material. He slid down my zipper almost immediately. I made no attempt to stop him or slow down the experience.  He went to his knees without being asked or told. 

He was younger, but his mouth was experienced. My cock felt good deep in his mouth. He couldn't quite get the whole thing in at first, but we had time. 

Clearly, Gabe had a daddy thing going on. He called me it enough. That I could deal with, at least then and in that setting. It does annoy me when someone online starts out a convo with "hey daddy".  They almost always get immediately blocked. 

I got in to calling him "boy", "son" or "kid".  It was a scene but not quite role play. 

Gabe wanted validation but not overtly so. He wanted an older man's attention and even affection. 

I won't lie - he got it. He asked if I would kiss him. The phrasing was important. He didn't ask if he could, or if we could. He had this down correctly.  He didn't object in the slightest to me taking a draw on my Asylum and them kissing him. Multiple times. 

Gabe was a great kisser, so that didn't hurt matters. And he was ever so appreciative. 

Lest you worry, I did turn the tables. Dad got down on his knees and blew the boy. I think he liked it, but at this point, we all knew what he was there for. 

He got a little cuddling - if you can call it that - then I pushed him to his knees. His head was against the wall, my elbows leaning against the wall. He was trapped between my thighs and the wall. Nowhere to go. Not that he wanted to. 

I deep-dicked his throat, over and over. For the most part he was a pro. There were a few times he gagged, but considering at that point I was being inconsiderate, it was to be expected.  My cigar firmly in my jaw or lips, I talked dirty around it, calling him a "faggot" and a "cocksucker". 

Even though I did blow a load the day before, I'm known to shoot larger than average orgasms. He took it like a champ, though he might have dribbled a little on his shirt. 

I sent him back to mom & dad, later than he said he'd be, and no doubt smelling of cigar. I'm sure he's a smart kid, who could weave a tale to satisfy both items. 

Naturally, he messaged me a day later, hoping he could get another turn before he leaves.

Playroom

I wasn’t sure how many people would be at a noontime, weekday, leather sex party. I assumed it wouldn’t be overflowing, but the torrential downpour on the way over there made me believe anyone who was thinking of even trying to get out into the flash flood areas was now safely ensconced at home. 

I, however, had already left work before the deluge, and even threw on a full harness before leaving the employee parking garage. I made some other tweaks at stop lights and such. When all said, I’d have the harness, vest, gloves and wrist bands. As it would turn out, I was only half of the folks (four in total – including me) in leather, and I by far had the most of it on. 

I found the place ok. Walked in as directed. I “knew” the host from the gym shower. I had never done anything with him. We had never verbally spoke before either. But he had hit me up on Recon wanting to play with my asshole. And well………….I like that hole to be played with. And by strangers if necessary. Deep down I knew attendance would be sparse and if I wasn’t the only bottom, I might get one fuck out of this sneaking out of work afternoon. Spoiler Alert: I wasn’t wrong. 

The host, another bottom and an observer were there when I arrived. I knew the guy watching – kind of. We were acquainted at CLAW years back, and at least he remembered me. The bottom was getting paddled by host. Then with his hands. I stepped up and offered my cock. He did a so-so job at best. He had Nasty Pig jock on, and honestly, I think he was in it more for the gear than the lifestyle. I’ll give him this: he didn’t flinch when I smacked his face as he gingerly sucked on my dick. 

The observer excused himself to go out and smoke and never returned. The host stepped away and by the time he came back the other bottom was eating my hole. Again – a so-so job. We opted to move it into the play room. 

As you can see, it is a VERY well stocked play room – and this pic barely covers part of one wall, let alone the entire room. Even the front room had a St. Andrew’s Cross. This had a sling, any number of sex toys, paddles, whips, brass knuckles (!!), etc. The business guy in me was mentally wondering how much this place was insured for and the amount of money it took to acquire such a collection. I didn’t need or want all of it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want / need some of it. 

I took the bull by the horns and was the one to step into the sling. The other bottom might have wanted it, but I didn’t care. It would be (almost) the last time I was a pushy / bossy bottom the rest of my stay there. Almost. 

The host took over. He ate my ass. Either my standards are too high, or I’ve become numb to it, but there was a time that an ass-eating had my nerves on edge – not so much anymore. I’m glad others react well when I do it to them. And of course, I went through the accolades even though I might have been acting a bit. Sue me. 

The eating went to hitting. Hand and paddle. I took it like a man. But then it went to dildos. Yes. Plural. Purposefully, I looked at none of them. I lay back in the sling and took these like a man too. 

The host was an expert at ass play. Making each rubber cock feel good, yet still bordering on just this side of uncomfortable. Of course, it was a plan to loosen up the hole and move up to bigger and bigger sizes. And that plan worked. 

At this point another guest showed. Slightly older than myself, leather shorts only on. He came to the top of the sling and reached over me to play with my tits. Naturally, I responded, verbally – even if no actual words came out – but my asshole also responded, opening up more easily for the guy on the footstool, sliding more and more dildo up my all too willing ass. 

With each new dildo, the used one would be tossed in a ‘dirty’ bucket. With the withdraw of one toy, the host went and ate my hole. The man above me played with my tits and would spit in my face. Or lightly would hit my face. It wasn’t my place to tell him ‘harder’, I was there to do as they wished, right? The other bottom stood by trying to excite himself with his palm. 

The host went to get some water, the guy above me moved around to eat my hole. Host came back and had a riding crop. While I know he was being cautious, as we he had not played together, his hits to my nipples, chest and abs were nice, but hardly impactful. He moved back between my legs and I asked him to use the riding crop on me down there. While he hit my balls – again, maybe not hard enough - I asked him to hit my ass with it. And I did mean my ass, as I cheeks. He said he had something better. I don’t know what the device was, and it was not for my cheeks, but he used it to hit my asshole. I felt it – for all dozen or so times he made contact with that pucker. 

All this while, the newest guy was playing with the other bottom. Sucking his cock, or trying to get him hard with his hands. I’d say he was semi-successful. It’s not the guy’s fault by any means, it is more that the bottom is / was the bottom. But the other guy goaded him into fucking me. Or trying to fuck me. It went fair – at best. 

I know what it is like to be a bottom trying to fuck. It’s a tough place to be in during the best of circumstances. Add an audience and a smallish enclosure and you’re almost doomed to fail. And in many ways, he did. Getting and keeping his dick hard was difficult. Fucking for any period of time was improbable. He put on a good act, as did I. He was rarely ever IN me, but he was just truly ‘bumping’ uglies. Not even fucking them. 

I took control of the situation, by begging (i.e. suggesting) that he cum on my hole. The best he could do, I figured, was beat off and shoot onto my hole. And while it seemed to take a while, that is what he did. When he did this, the newer guy took a toy and pushed it against my asshole, so the deposited sperm would make the journey into my guts one way or the other. For good measure, he licked my hole afterwards. 

Once done there, he turned his attention to my cock. There are times I love oral and am into it. There are many more times where of course I like it, but I’m in full-on bottom mode. This was one of the latter times. Yes, I was erect but that was due to all the butt activity. To get where they wanted me to go I had to dig deeper. It was more about thoughts of other times I’d been used that got me to the edge. And over it. 

Sure, the host and the newer arrival thought it was them, and there is no harm in letting them think that. My sexual-psychological make-up doesn’t need to be explained in a back play room while laying back in a sling. 

We all straightened ourselves up and went back out into the pouring rain.

Fucked in the Park

About a year ago I wrote about a park where black men frequent to hook-up.  I had only gone a few times, and with few results, before the park was slated to have a huge four year sewer project. So the cruisy part of the park is blocked off and for many hours of the day, occupied by city and county workers. 

I was informed of a different park where black men gather and probably have sex. On a Sunday morning, I tried it out. The shelter can be seen from the parking lot, but you cannot see into the shelter itself. It's dark. It's shaded. The path curves enough. If someone were at the outer edge of it, you could see there was a person, but that's about it. 

I did get my ass eaten there, but not fucked. But while getting that butt lapped at, three young black gentlemen strode by. They never looked over - not once. They passed the shelter and then double-backed and occupied the other side of the area. Immediately, one pulled down his shorts and bent over. There was no talk amongst the three. 

One other got behind him and applied lube and slid right into him. Not an ounce of resistance. Guy #3 - the cutest one - stepped up and fed the bottom. I watched. I waited. I moved closer and closer. Again, not once did they even glance my way or pay me any mind. 

I stood for a while and watched a fourth approach. He was getting fucked by guy #3 - who got the lube from guy #2.  It was a jar of non-name petroleum jelly.  I love they went old school using Vaseline. And the jar was already quite used. 

I only saw guy #3 get off. He didn't want to just yet, but couldn't stop himself. But I stayed long enough to see him go back in an ass, so he rebounded quickly. Ah youth!

My time there yielded no action other than a butt munching. 

On my third trip - just a few hours ago - (yes, trip 2 was a dud too) I was more successful. It was raining on and off, but there were 4-5 cars in the lot, all occupied, so no one in the shelter. Two guys walked up that way after a while, and then a third. I waited an appropriate length of time and left my car. 

On the way to the shelter, one guy returned and passed me. I got no look or acknowledgement. Then I passed a semi-hunky second guy who was going back to the lot and he mutter 'morning'.  I did the same. But he kept moving. The lone guy left was pretty overweight, and had his cock out, but it was small. It was, he'd have to use both hands to lift his belly out of the way for me to get to it should I be so inclined - which I wasn't.  He soon left, leaving me all alone. 

The heavy guy left the lot and another car was about to. I was 80% sure it was the semi-hunky guy. At the outer edge of the pavilion I dropped my shorts. If he were looking that way, he'd see. He parked his car at a closer spot rather than leave and slowly made his way back to the shelter. When he did, his dick was out and he was tugging on it a little. I was doing the same. He stood 5' away, leaning against the back stone wall of the building. 

I stood in front of him and grabbed his dick. He didn't stop me. It would become a solid 7", if not a bit longer. He also didn't stop me from sitting on the picnic bench in front of him and letting my wrap my lips around his ebony shaft. 

He liked it - judging by his moan - and I loved it. Feeling my mouth filled with black cock. 

I was doing this for a few when he reached to play with my nipples. If you've ever read my shit here, you know that is my weak spot and my barriers go down. I mean, let's be honest, I don't have many anyway, but it is a panty-dropper. I mean, had I had anything on under my gym shorts. 

Pulling off his cock, I told him how much I liked what he was doing and I'd be happy to do whatever he wanted. He questioned this with 'like what?'.  I countered back with him to name it. He just didn't. He was thinking, and I'm guessing about what he could say back. So I asked him how he liked to cum - and he asked where I wanted it.  I stated my usual response: "it's not up to me". 

"Will you let me shoot up your ass?"  I nodded.   "Yeah. That", he said. 

I responded by standing up, pulling off my shorts and bending over the stone wall. 

This was my view.

Clearly, the park has activity. And I can guarantee you none of these were used by the two of us. 

He kicked my legs apart and tried to go in. He pulled back, he spit more on his cock and I hit the poppers. 

He was pretty much at the hole and semi in. I adjusted myself so he'd be on target and I moaned, "just push into me". And he did. And kept going till he bottomed out. 

I won't lie, the start wasn't perfect. Not enough spit, but I powered through. I asked him to play with my tits again and he did. That made my hole respond in multiple ways - and we were off. 

The. Man. Could. Fuck. 

I leaned over that wall for 15 minutes taking a pounding. There was not a lot of variation. It wasn't a brutal fuck, but it was focused and unrelenting. While he wasn't horribly verbal, I was. Reminding him of how big he was (that got an ego chuckle from him) and how he should just fuck me!!!   So he did. 

He looked out for others. Not so much that anyone who is coming to that park on a Sunday morning is going to be a threat. It's more who he wanted to (or not) show off for.  Of course, I would have liked others to tag team my hole too. But it was cool and very rainy. 

At about the 12 minute mark of the assault, I was begging for him to fuck me harder and to cum up my ass. He complied with the first one. He did the second one too, but it took longer.  He picked up that pace and was slamming my hole with his black shaft and head. His breath got shorter and he was muttering "yeah yeah yeah......"  he was close.  And then he was there. 

He buried up me but never stopped fucking as he unloaded into me. With that, I could not really feel the dick pulse. But I knew from the catches in his throat he was shooting. 

The guy slowly pulled out. He grabbed a paper towel from his pocket - which made me think he was planning on fucking the entire time - wiped himself off and walked away without a word. 

P-town 6: the Writer

 I figure, I should wrap up this series, since it is now 14 months old!

Fully vaccinated here.  I know it's not the end-all / be-all, so I still wear masks in public, wash accordingly and social distance as necessary.  But with Covid and work burn out, I went to Provincetown to meet some college friends - with all of us staying at separate airbnbs.  While all vaccinated as well, we were still keeping mind of no herd immunity. 

That all said, I was in P-town and had every intention of some kind of human interaction.  Or sex, as it may be. 

In early May, it was still considered off-season, and Covid still is keeping people away. And it was downright chilly - into the low 40s. With things closing at 8p, after dark, the streets were about 94% empty.  But that doesn't mean guys still didn't have needs. 

Starting off - I don't know how many parts this will have to this series. Some men will get a single entry. Others - might be lumped together. I can almost guarantee you they won't be in order.

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I knew him.  We'd met before, but even before that, we were on-line "friends". It's hard not to use the quotes when you mostly know someone virtually.  But about 10 years before, we did have drinks together when I was in his town.  We had a nice non-sexual time. 

And it was a non-sexual tension time too. I'm not sure either of us thought that way about each other in that way. But now it's 10 years later.  I'm alone in P-town and still horny as fuck. It'd been a decade since I last saw him, this might be the last time, or another decade.  I had nothing to lose. I pinged him on the app. 

I didn't reference our knowing each other. Nor did he. From another app, I also saw he was with his husband. I wasn't sure if that would be help or a hindrance. He said he could be by in 10, so I took the hubby not be an impediment. 

Sex with acquaintances is different, right? With strangers, while there are expectations, of course, you can be a bit more.......free and open with who you are. Even with a virtual friend, they have seen you in one light (and you them) and one has preconceived notions of each other. So while I wasn't nervous, I wasn't sure what to expect, or how honest I was about what I'd do - and to what limit.  I suspected the same of him. 

"Ron" entered confidently. "I only have a short time", so we got down to it. There was no kissing, as that would have been too familiar when we actually weren't. Our pants came down and damned if I wasn't surprised to see an 8", if not 8.25" cock pointing right at me.  Talk about not having correct preconceived notions!

Naturally, I went right down on it. He was thick too - beautifully so. 

Nice head on it too. He responded well to how I was working on it.  And being 8" or more, I won't lie thinking I wanted more from it. But in our brief text convo, it was all about a quick blowjob before he had to leave town. 

Naturally, I was more surprised when he somewhat blurted out he wanted to fuck my ass.  BINGO!

Again, it's one of those things semi-friends might not say fearing how the other might react - or not. We hold back. In 30 seconds we were in the bedroom, me bend over and him lining up. 

Even with lube and even with having taken a few dicks and loads on this trip, I was tight. Well, let's rephrase - he was BIG. It felt good, but it felt large. 

I get that I had no true frame of reference, but the man could fuck. Prior to this day, I might have wagered money that he'd be the one whose legs went up in the air.  I'm glad I was wrong. 

With generous amounts of lube it still took a while (seemingly) to get all the way in. I think I was more tense than I would have been with a total stranger. It's nature that you want to perform well anyways, but more so with someone with whom you're acquainted.  

Ron was persistent and while not relentless, he had a rhythm down that was hard to beat. Part of it was beating the cock, for sure. He had somewhere to be yet he wanted to cum. That's a lot of pressure when you sneak away from your husband to fuck a "stranger". 

We positioned ourselves differently, but looking up at him might have been weird for both of us. Part of P-Town sex has to do with anonymity. Yeah, you have the guys you see at t-dance you want to do, but you don't KNOW them. Sometimes it is better to be face down / ass up and just take it. Honestly, had I known he wanted to fuck, that's how he'd have found me. 

I could have been a bad fuck (ha!), or it could have been the pressure, but getting off by, and in, my ass was not going to happen. It got down to my mouth and hand.  Not my finest hour, but not remotely close to my worst. 

Naturally, I wanted things to be better,  but we don't always get what we want.

But Ron should watch out for next time I'm in P-Town.  I have a job to finish properly. 

Green. Yellow. Red.

I took a day off of work to attend a day of CLAW. 

I had no plan. I was just going. I made no prior arrangements with anyone - at least that panned out. That's ok. I do and don't enjoy the event - all at the same time. 

I am now comfortable in my skin - in and out of leather. I somewhat embrace the leather community thought I don't know it embraces me. But I'm an outsider. I've never really felt apart of it, even though I've been a manager there for six years and attending for three others. This year, I opted not to participate in planning or execution. 

I didn't even buy a day pass, just a vendor pass, so I could see if there was anything I wanted to purchase. Still, I went with the intent of getting fucked. Hopefully more than once. But with my quasi-relationship, I've opened up a number of new experiences to which I've somewhat mentioned in previous posts. Watersports and some impact play amongst them. 

I hung in the lobby of the host hotel. It was earlier in the day - nothing official was yet going on. There was some slight cruising going on with me and another guy until others showed up - then he was gone. But I got a few pings from some apps - one being a guy a few hundred feet away (straight up, it would turn out) who was interested in a little fun. He had later morning plans but had 45 minutes free, if I wanted. 

His Recon profile was more about impact play, but we had not discussed what would go on. And I didn't ask. I headed to the 16th floor. He was handsome, but very understated. Fully clothed - t-shirt and jeans. After I entered, I was told to leave my clothes on a chair. I dropped them all and presented myself. 

I saw his tools laid out on the bed - save four items.  There were two paddles, two floggers and one mallet of some type.  

He asked how experienced I was. I overstated that by a bit. Over the last year, I have experimented this way, but not to the degree that was about to take place. 

He asked if I was comfortable being restrained. I replied it wasn't up to me. He liked this. He said I would be gagged, bound and blindfolded.  These were three of the four things I had not seen. 

The gag was a ball one. Some have slots for air and spit to pass through. This was not that. It was a full gag, limiting my saliva, my breathing, and any vocalization. It was firmly attached. 

The blindfold was leather. I have one, but not like this. Mine, is amateur hour to this. There is no possibility to see light or anything else.  That was number two. 

I was told to kneel on the bed - guided there -  and to place my wrists next to my ankles. I did as I was told.  He secured me that way. Each wrist was secured to each ankle. Exposing me as such. And with little to no movement. It was perfect. 

I was told that there would and could be three things I was able to say:  Green. Yellow. Red. 

Green would mean for him to continue. 

Yellow meant for him to continue but lighten up or I needed a break. 
Red means what it always means: Stop. 

In reality, unless I said Yellow or Red, there was no reason to ever say Green. He assured me he could understand me through the gag. 

He started with a paddle. Wooden, I believe. He was firm, but steady. Not overdelivering. I know I made some noise behind the gag, but nothing unpleasant. It was acknowledgement. It turns out, this would please him. This paddle was for testing. For warm-up. So were the severity of his swats. 

Paddle two, I'm guessing was leather. Firmer. Stingier. Unrelenting. His strikes were firm and he meant business. I mean, I knew from the entire set up, he meant business. And he did not disappoint. I was trying not to as well. I grunted. I groaned. I moaned. I did not say 'yellow' or 'red'.  I didn't want to. 

The first of the floggers was next  After this would all be done, this would be my favorite. Going in, I wasn't sure. I had never been flogged. I was anxious - for the good and for the potential bad. He didn't just target my ass, but got some swats in on my side and back. I won't say part of me was wondering why I was enjoying it this much, but I kind of was. 

He asked if I was doing ok. I nodded my head. I was smart enough to know that I couldn't reply to that question with Green, Yellow or Red.  He was smart enough to know I was smart enough. 

He did reach in to feel my cock.  "Well, I guess you ARE enjoying this!", he said. I knew I wasn't hard and he felt me, so he knew I wasn't either. Apparently I was leaking a lot of pre-cum onto his comforter. He said as much.  I'm not saying he punished me for that, but with the second flogger he just picked up, the hits were harder and more frequent - though perfectly timed in his mind. This guy was a pro. He wasn't hitting me willy-nilly. 

The second flogger stung much more than the first. Or the paddles. I contemplated saying "yellow", but I didn't want to seem weak. I think his harder hits were to get me to say Yellow or Red, to see if he could break me a bit. I didn't take Psych 101 for nothing!

The last time - and I'm just guessing here - was a hard rubber mallet. He hit my ass and back with it. Honestly, compared to the other items, I just kind of felt a 'thud' here and there. It did nothing to or for me. 

But the one item I had not seen beforehand, and clearly not blindfolded turned out to be this. 

While I didn't see it, I instinctively knew what it was.  He ran it over my ass, my back and my sac. I won't say I enjoyed it, but it got a reaction from me. 

"I like that you react. You make noise. You don't lie there like some dead fish".  I'm guessing many who are more experienced might? Listen, I didn't say I got a great grade in Psych 101. 

He let me rest for a minute and then said: "Ok, we're going to go through each of these again, and you're going to count out 20 for each. BUT not every one - just everyone you think is truly a hit". 

Paddle #1 commenced. I didn't count the first 4-5. But then I started counting for each true strike. 

Paddle #2, the same. Though he said I was counting too many he didn't think he were worthy to be called a hit. 

Flogger #1. He again said I was counting too many, and now for each count I did make, he would strike harder. And he did. Of course, the crux of this is, count fast and they are over. Count slower and you get many more contact. So instead of 20, I probably got 40.  I don't think this is the losing proposition. At least for me. 

Flogger #2. I didn't count fast at all, but the contact was harsher. Or maybe my body was feeling it more or different. 

He didn't even bother with the mallet, but he did revisit the rolling razor. I flinched repeatedly at that. I did not enjoy it, but I didn't use any of the words of which he allowed. 

The man was a good "top", and gave me praise for enduring what I did. It was moderated praise - not enough to give me a swelled head, but enough to know that I did him proud. It sets one up for the next encounter - whatever and with whomever that might be. 

He left me like this.......

I know you're wondering where the sex was. 

That was it. 

It was a mind fuck to a degree. I was in a position, literally, where he could have violated me with penetration, but it never happened. I won't lie and say I didn't want it to, but this was his scene. 

Asked much later if he gets erect from that kind of meet-up, he wholeheartedly said, "YES".  And that's his mind fuck. I think at times we all get off mentally, if not physically. I think both he and I did that day. 

As I dressed, I told him I had a confession:  that was only my second time. 

Yes, I've experienced hands and belts before, but not to that degree, not to that detail. He was so methodical about it. 

He said, had he knowing, he wouldn't have gone as far as he did. I assured him nothing happened that I didn't want - and reminded him I never said Yellow or Red.  

He thought for a second or two and said, "no........no you did not.  Good boy."

Oh the Places You'll Go

Dr. Suess has nothing on me.  Nothing, I tell ya. 

Yes, I've been away from the blog for a while. I pondered leaving it up and no adding to it.  I vacillated on deleting the 800+ posts and 86'ing the archive altogether.  But part of me thought I wasn't quite done with this yet. 

I have zero idea if I have any audience left - and it is totally valid had they moved on. It's a world of instant gratification and this blog is anything but. I never even completed my Provincetown series - and that was 13 months ago. 

There is no excuse and lots of explanation to it, but you know - that's never why people have stopped by here.  I've been busy in life and work and a quasi-relationship (that's for another time......maybe), and when it hasn't been work, life or that last thing, I've been lazy.  How's that for a nutshell. 

During times of Delta and Omicron, "activities" pretty much fell to the quasi relationship guy.  And while he's been nothing but adventurous, time will tell if I write about that. With semi-decreases in Covid cases, and a second booster, I've been a little more.........willing, if you will, to get out there. Selectively - though this story will defy that last statement. 

As I said, Oh - the place you'll go.  You'll being me. And how low level the bar can be at times. 

His opening line wasn't "hey", " 'sup" or "how's it hanging?".  He went for it:  "Wanna suck me".  There was no question mark. That has to do more with the education system than him meaning it - but not - as a statement. 

I do like someone getting to the point. 

His stats were fine:  no age, but 6'1", 185.  I should have been wary of his looking for "other gamers". But I got the address and I was off.  He said the door would be unlocked and to just come upstairs. I got there - it was a townhouse in an iffy development. They'd seen better days, but.........I wasn't there to house hunt. 

But I walked into this (albeit, I took the shot on the way out)

What you don't see, is the hall going back from the door was jam-packed with crap. So was the staircase. And the top of the stairs.  The man was a pig, and in a very different way than you'd call me one. I internally shuddered at how many roaches must be under this stuff and in his kitchen, which I could only assume was just as dirty.  He did nothing to make me less wary of "gamers" - and the stereotypes that surround them - though to be fair, this wasn't his parent's basement. 

Also on the stairs?  Him. 

He was at the stop of the stairs, ass on a step with his legs splayed out down the next few. He wasn't letting me upstairs, and honestly, I was ok with that. 

What was also waiting for me was this

Well, what it would become. 

Fully grown - in my throat - it became over 8.5" and thick as fuck in terms of the shaft, especially the base. 

He was horrible at dirty verbal, but I'm guessing he was less than 30. My other stereotype about gamers is that if not virgins, they're close to it.  He was close to it.  Clearly. 

The guy appreciated my skills. While not rusty, it'd been a while since I tackled a dick this big. I mentioned something vague about how it would feel good up an ass. He replied he'd never done that, but the tone took on more of something he'd rather not do. I wasn't prepped for that anyway - let alone one that would hit oil. 

So I stayed on my knees, between his legs, sucking his mammoth cock. 

It wasn't worship, which dick was destined to be, it's just attached to the wrong guy, in the wrong place. I was there to get him off and get out. I'm usually not there just for the load. I like the process of getting the load.....but this time, I just wanted it and to leave. 

There was skill, of course. But I did not curtail all those skills to his reactions. I had a job to do. And I did it. 

He warned me he was getting close. I couldn't tell if the thought I should know to pull off? I can only imagine what else was left in that carpet on the steps. But I took it all. Decent sized load, though a little bitter. 

I made sure to get all drops, then I stood up to leave. As I had not taken anything off, it was a clean (pun intended) getaway. He, still laying on the stairs. 

The entire event made me think about all those / these situations I've put myself into for the quest for cock. I'm not proud. But I'm not ashamed either. It just is. 

I've gotten a few messages from this nerd:  "I you as my regular so bad".   That is the direct message. I'll assume "want" was meant to be in there. 

.......I haven't replied.  Nor will I.