Thursday, January 29, 2015

Fake and Real

There was a Seinfeld where Kramer tells the group that, in the past, he has faked orgasms before. The group can't believe a man can fake such a thing.

But of course one can. At least for a while.

The reality is, most of the time a guy can't feel another guy's cum shooting into him. One might feel the pulses of the cock, but the actual cum and warmth?  It happens, but I don't think it's a regular occurrence.

So I was asked to come to a guy's house to eat his ass. I was happy to do it. More than happy, as you know I love to munch butthole.

However, our meeting time got delayed, as I was getting close to his house. So I hit up a Starbucks, had a drink and played on my phone.

Some handsome lad hit me up. He was two blocks away. He wanted to worship my feet. Being that has never been on my menu, I figured if nothing else, it was something to blog about. See  - it's all about giving back to you people. I hope you're happy.

In a word:  ugh.

The distance was walkable. The place was a fucking pit. Nice from the outside, but I don't think this guy (and his roommates?) will be getting their deposit back. Ever. And while it was only 9:30a, either this guy hadn't been to bed (meth?) or was up early chain smoking. The entire place reeked of cigarette smoke. I'm not a fan of that at all.

And his profile pic while handsome, did not live up to what was in front of me. A much more worn out version, furthering my thoughts of his probably meth use.

I should have turned and run then, but I didn't. My boots were caked with snow and slush and I was taking them off, but he told me not to. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. The place was a dump, so what did he care if someone trekked this shit through where he lived.

His bedroom was slightly better than the living area. As for the foot worship - never happened. He went to his knees and to my cock.

He was a so-so cocksucker. Telling tales between bobs on my shaft of how he sucked older, married men when he was a teen.

As he was sucking me - or attempting to - he pulled out his own dick. It was nothing to look at really, and nothing I wanted to manipulate the system to try to get in my mouth. I was biding my time looking for an exit strategy.

Then he presented his ass to me.

There is no logic. There is no explanation. I tried to fuck him and I have no idea why. He wasn't even on my radar to do such a thing.

I sunk into him in one push - not bad considering I wasn't fully hard, or could even get there. But I'm big enough that he went down and bit the comforter for some kind of support. I fucked here and there, always slipping out, not being able to keep it going. So I don't know why I kept trying.

I made one last attempt and just well, faked my orgasm. And he seemingly bought it. I flexed my dick, to make it see like it pulsed, but I shot nothing nor was even close to doing so. I also made all the necessary vocalizations.....though I never actually said the words, "I'm cumming" or "I'm gonna cum...".

I told him to stay right where he was and let myself out. I won't be going back there again.

So my ass eating pal was ready for me. I've played with him before. His door was unlocked. He was on his bed, ass up, shoulders down - butt right at the edge of the bed.

I got down and really went to town on his hole. He has a good one. A sweet shitter for eating. I probably tongued it for a good 20-30 minutes.

I'm not sure what was in the air yesterday, but he was begging to get fucked too. And I have boned him before, but I wasn't mentally there for it, especially after my last recent encounter.

Still, I stripped off my jeans and made the attempt. This guy got more from me - a harder cock, a longer fuck, a harder fuck.......but you know, it's I didn't have the ability to sustain the erection. For me, that is more of a mental game - and don't talk to me about ED drugs. I'm still not jonesing to be a top.

Near the end, I kind of slid out. He wanted me to just jack off and cum on his asshole. I get the sentiment, but even with what little topping I do, I'm not really looking to do that with my load. But I did jack it, and got close and just hard enough to shove in at the very last second and unleashed a two week supply of semen.

The man knows how to work his hole, that's for sure. He's not a novice when it comes to getting fucked. I'm guessing he is quite the expert at taking dick.

It wasn't the day I was looking for, but it happened.

Maybe next time I'll be on the receiving end of two cocks.

Monday, January 26, 2015

Red and Black

He was in town on a blustery day, here for work from the city of Brotherly Love.

I just figured someone should show him some brotherly "love".

On paper, he seemed all wrong:  6'2", 240.  Yes, the profile said muscles, know how that rarely works out. His profile picture looked ok, couldn't tell if it would really be muscular or just blubber.

Then he sent me another pic.

That seemed more muscular.

His profile said he was looking for a relationship, dates or friends. But let's face it, you're on Scruff as a traveler. You're not looking for dates or friends. At least be honest.

To be fair - really muscular guys are not my thing. Well defined is one thing. Body building and builders freak me out a bit. He identified as black, but I knew as soon as I entered his hotel room he was of mixed race.

As it turns out - half black, half American Indian. It was a nice combo - and possibly my first Native American man, which is saying something, if you ran the numbers.

He answered the door nude. He didn't even try to hide behind it like so many hotel guests do. I liked him already. Before I even started to disrobe (I drove through a heavy snowstorm and had layers on), he was back, flopped in bed, waiting for me to come to him.

His cock. His room. His rules.  I'm good with it all.

What was waiting for me was this.

The pic doesn't do him justice. A good 7.0 - 7.5" dick and nice thickness. Great head. And he just propped himself up on pillows and took the head I started giving him. And I was doing a great job if I say so myself. He would too - if he knew I had this blog or was writing about him. Or you know, if I knew his name or anything.

He moaned and groaned and said 'fuck' a fuck of a lot. As a guy getting great head should.

But me being me - well I licked his nuts....and then lower than that. He seemed in fucking heaven when my tongue touched his pucker. He liked the licking, the lapping, the tonguing and the tongue fucking. He liked the way I used it in circles outside his hole and inside...just inside and then deep inside. I made the most of it.

I even dragged that muscled body to the edge of the bed, so I could get on the floor and get closer to and into his ass. He fucking loved it.

While he was in no rush time-wise, due to the weather, he was adamant about getting me on the bed, on my back and burying his bone.

I would have been happy with spit for lube, but he had bottled stuff at the bedside.

As I said, he was much thicker than that cock picture alluded to. Fuck did I feel it when he pushed in. My legs up, braced on him, but his power, his cock, my hole. It all came together.

I started to tell him to be careful and ease in. But he took it upon himself.......kind of. He'd clearly done this before. So he had the knowledge part of how to proceed, but then the horniness override part working as well.

The latter part one.

Maids in the hallway would have had to hear me moan. I felt every inch of it - length and girth.

And the guy was an expert at fucking. Forceful and yet not. Changed the pace. Changed the depth of penetration on different thrusts. Made me feel it all, but made me feel it good.

The only other position was face down. His hulky, hunky body was on top of me giving it to me good.....and for a good 20 minutes more.

The way he was moaning, you'd have thought he was right on the edge, or actually shooting. But it was like he was always almost on the edge and couldn't go the fucking and verbal assault continued.

It was every bottom's dream. Well, if you really liked to get fucked.

My only regret is he wasn't staying another night, because, had I been asked back, I'd have totally taken that on again.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Daddy 2

Two days later, I was back in the hotel lobby. We had chatted via text - and he told me how much he liked me being in his room. That of all the men who had visited there, I was the best.

It was not surprising or hurtful that he had others there - at least three others - as he was a highly desirable man. Clearly a very sexual man. I was happy to be part of his stay. And I was the only guy to be asked for a return visit - according to him.

During our chat, he asked if I minded the slaps and hits. I said I did not. I asked him if he had held back some and he admitted he had. I told him that might not be necessary and we both left it at that.

Earlier he had sent me a pic of his body.

But I commented on his jeans. He told me he brought those with him and sure enough that day he was wearing them. The only difference was the 2" wide black leather belt is not pictured.

Again I followed him to his room at a respectable distance, so not to have co-workers seem like things were up. This time upon entering, he went directly into the bathroom to piss. While he didn't invite me in verbally, he didn't shut the door either.

I went him behind him and felt his body. I then sat on the edge of the tub to watch his golden stream go from his head to the bowl. Part of me thinks I was waiting for him to turn and shoot it on or in me. Or to grab my head. An amateur shrink would have said that was exactly what I wanted. Maybe.

After he finished, he leaned back against the wall and I went to my knees. There I sucked his thick thick thick cock, tasting some lingering urine a the head. Like last time, he instructed me very carefully when to go deep, when to just take the head, when to lick, etc.

Luckily for me, I follow directions very carefully.

But soon, we were back out to the living area. Back to his chair. Back to me on my knees. And back to fellatio (well, he was Italian!) and giving and taking direction (him and me, respectively).

And like last time, I took it upside the head by the palm of his hand. Since we had slightly discussed the severity - or possible lack thereof - of the smacks, this time, they were undoubtedly harsher and more frequent.

The cock inside my pants was also harder.  Surprise!!!!!

Instead of loosening his belt like last time, he took it off. As I leaned into him, to suck dick, his belt went across my back. Not with little taps, but with as much of a full-on swing as he could muster while sitting back in the chair.

Yes, it stung. But the words "no" or "stop" or "don't" never passed my lips. I don't think that went unnoticed.

I also don't think it was unnoticed that after the first half dozen, as I would see his arm go back and I knew what was coming, I involuntarily cringed. My body language said it, but my mouth did not. So another smack was delivered.

Upon coming off of his cock, I was presented with the belt leather to lick. Then he started feeding the belt into my mouth and to the back of my throat. He knows what he's doing, that man.

I was taken back to the bedroom where his pants came down somewhat. There I went back to orally servicing. And happy to do it.

But I worked my way down too. Since had really taken nothing off, nor was going to, I wanted to enjoy it all. That included his Italian Army Boots.

They were handsome and rugged, just like their owner.

The leather and color was as pristine as they are in the picture. The soles seemed clean too, but they were covered in some grime and road salt.

How do I know this?  Because I licked every inch of both boots - top and bottom. I was told to spit shine and that was what I did. I was in fucking heaven. He seemed more amused than turned on.

Before I was allowed to go back to his cock, I was ordered to go rinse out my mouth. You might be a little disgusted to know how much spit came out black and brown. I guess it stands to reason.

Of course there was more belt / back work as well after I went back down on him. And it was only a matter of minutes before I got his load.

Knowing he had someone over the night before, and here I was now at 9:45a getting a sizable spunk load from him was impressive to say the least. And like the last time, he went from mouth to ass.

After I ingested his semen, he got me on my back, pulled up my legs and fucked me. He was a little harder this time, probably because he knew he could be. Probably because, as he stated last time, he didn't care how I felt. And probably, because he had another load and something to prove.

It was all good.

I knew we had a time limit and it didn't take long for the second load, which he deposited right up my hole.  ....though he was owning that hole right about then. Stretching it out, with his girth.

He was quick to withdraw, which was a shame. And he went back into the restroom to piss. I sat again to watch and he changed his mind and told me to get in the tub. There he pissed all over me. Chest, arms, cock and then up to my face and head. Covered me in his fluid.

I was happy to dress and leave as is, but he would not have it. I guess the risk of me coming out of his room and seeing a colleague of his while wearing and smelling of his piss was too much. I was ordered to shower, which I did.

I knew it would be our last time, even though he was in town the next morning. We made no promises to meet again.

But I got a nice message via my phone and I thanked him for the time. He reminded me not to put things in the past, as he would be back again and he would be using me again.

A boy can dream.

Monday, January 19, 2015

Daddy 1

His Scruff profile said he was Middle Eastern. In person, he told me he was Italian. He lived in San Francisco. But he definitely had an Italian accent.

His cock was Italian. 6.5" long....maybe 7. He had to be 6" around. I don't have small hands - though not super huge - and I couldn't get my hand around it.

Oh sure, you hear things like that in porn magazines, but I'm not sure I've experienced that kind of girth in real life. But there it was, fingertips not touching a thumb.

He was a hairy fucker. Head, Beard. Chest. Balls. Bush. Ass. I spent as much time pulling hair off my tongue as I did sucking him or licking him. Trust me, I'm not complaining.

From our early messaging, we carefully felt each other out. As it turns out, he was all top - and had a predisposition for liking it rough. He was hoping not to scare me off. I was hoping not to do the same by telling him all the things I wanted him to do to me.

We met in his hotel lobby, though I trailed him from a distance so co-workers would be none the wiser.

Once in room 202, he moved directly to the hotel chair. Fully clothed, he sat. He pointed to the floor and I got on my knees between his legs. Even through heavy denim he didn't want me gnawing....just licking. The same when I got to open his pants and work on his European briefs.

Eventually, but not quickly, I got to release his cock from his pants. See what I mean about my fingers barely meeting?

He sat there and provided me instruction. More instruction than I think I've gotten since I was a teenager.

He was very specific about when to take it all the way down. He was very specific on telling me how long to keep it there and not to move. He was very specific to tell me to go and do 'just the head'. And then when to suck and how fast.

Sure, he let me do these things on my own, but now and again, he'd take matters (i.e. my head) into his hands and have me do as he please - not just in words, but in deed too.

Also during this time came the first slap. Open palm on the side of my head. Then the side of my face. At times then they'd be at the back of my head or on my shoulders.....but mostly on the side of my face.

I get that many of you guys don't like that. Oddly, I do.

Normally, I would say I'm a pacifist , but during sexual encounters, with the right (or wrong) guy, I get turned on by a certain amount of hitting. I can't explain it. I'm sure someone who took a mid-level psych course could.....just not me.

And while his jeans did become unbuttoned and his belt loosened, it never came off. Though he'd use the end of the belt to smack me in the face as well. Oddly enough, while the slaps with hand and belt had a sting to them, I don't know that I would call them hard blows. But I know that's all relative.

During this time, he'd call himself 'Daddy'. He'd call me 'boy' or 'son'. It was non-role playing role play. I was good with it, even if we were probably close in age. 'Son' was a state of mine. The minor role....and not in age, but in sexual to speak.

This was not a quick session. I'd say 30 minutes into this, he blew a sizable load into my throat. I made sure to take every drop.

As we had not really discussed our agenda, I wasn't sure if we were done or not. But we were not.

He had me move into his bedroom - as he had a suite.

He (I never got a name) had me hang my head over the bed. There he fucked my face. Or buried his cock and held it in my mouth / throat. He never lost hardness after cumming the first time. Impressive - or Glaxo Smith Kline. Either was working for me.

He had me turn around so my legs were now off the bed. At this point, it was clear, he was going to attempt to fuck me.

Now I love getting fucked, but this man was THICK. But the word 'no' or 'careful' never came out of my mouth. He leaned to his night stand and pulled over one of those little packets of lube pillows. You know the ones. I watched him squeeze out the tiniest amount and apply it to my hole. The same amount made it to his cock.

Then he reached over for a rubber. He put it in his mouth to rip open the foil and spit the corner of the torn package at me. Without a word, he tossed the rubber back on the night stand and applied very little additional lube.

And then he went for it. Pushing. Pushing Pushing. Telling me to breathe. Even giving me examples of how I should be inhaling and exhaling. Oddly, it helped. As he pushed in more, stretching my hairy hole, he told me to slow the breathing down. I did. And sooner than I ever thought, he had bottomed out.

He moved at his own pace - my own needs were not on the table. Not that he asked what they were. But the face had to tell him everything. Pride for taking it. Grimacing for the stretching. And a little bit of ecstasy in a very happy hole.

He would mention after the session, via text, that he liked fucking me.  "I was loving your ass. I need to pound you again". And he did pound. He found a rhythm suitable for him.

We moved to me being face down. Then on my side with him still standing doing a scissor thing with my legs as he plunged deep.

He's also ask later if I liked it.....and if it hurt at all. I admitted it did a bit. His response?  "I didn't care".

I was sitting in my office at that point, and reading that got boned up immediately. Someone who truly TRULY was in it for their own pleasure. Many tops say that, but then worry they're hurting or doing it wrong and start with the apologies. It ruins the mood.....believe it or not.

Another 20 minutes and load two gets shot up my ass.

I'm somewhat worn out. But apparently we are not done.

Again, my head hangs over the bed. It is ass-to-mouth and his still hard cock goes in. I clean him off, though I was pretty fucking clean, so no biggie. But the lube...the ass....residual cum....all goes in my mouth. Over my lips. Even in my beard.

I suck. He alternately jacks his cock. We go back and forth. And he's ready for load three. He tells me to open my mouth, but more of it hits my face than gets in my mouth.

This is kind of ok with me. One for my mouth. One for my ass. One to mark my face.

I'm his.

Right now, for that moment in time, I'm his son.

He shows me the door, cum drying on my face, with the promise of another get together before he leaves town.

I believe this not to just be talk. I'm not proven wrong.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Merit Badge

When you write a real-life "porn" blog, it might be hard to believe, but it gets boring.

2014 had me posting 78 adventures and you got a fraction of my activity, as you really don't want to hear about the weekly head I give to two married guys (separately). They're great guys, with nice cocks and flavorful loads, but it is all very standard stuff.

And as I've said before here, the mechanics of sex don't switch up too much, so it's hard to make a non-exciting fuck or suck sound interesting - to me as a writer or to you as a reader. It's hard to get excited to sit down in front of the keyboard to tap out a story you might like.

So, I'm going out on a limb to say this one might hit a few good marks. It certainly did for me.

Anyway, I'm sitting in Starbucks on a very cold day having a hot beverage.........and cruising - not necessarily in that order. Well, cruising 21st century style. Yes, I'm looking at the nice men coming into get coffee while also looking at Recon, Scruff and A4A via my phone. I'm a multi-tasker.

So I got 'woof'd' at by a guy: 38, 6'2", 185 and hairy.  His pic also shows him having a mohawk. Not a semi one. But one strip of hair on an otherwise shaved noggin.

I reply back, "very nice!!!"

And then I get a picture back.

To which I reply back that what he was showing was VERY nice, though I doubted this was news to him.

I "may have" also sent back a shot or two of me showing him in which ways I have some skills, therefore insinuating what I could be doing with that member of his.

He asked if I was free after 6p and unfortunately I was not. He then told me he was working, but maybe we'd find time at a later date.  Bummer.

About 10 minutes later, I get pinged by him again. He was still working, but I could come to where he was on a job site and take care of him there.

Ok, now my curiosity is piqued.

In past jobs, I have had men by my office so I could assist them in relieving their nut sac. Now I was being offered to come to a site. Although this was not his office, but a third-party place where he was doing work.

As it turns out, he works in HVAC and was on-site fixing a furnace. He claimed we could use the boiler room or a small closet off the boiler room. He even sent me a pic.

I hemmed and hawed on whether to do this or not, until he told me it was at the Boy Scouts of America's regional office.

Oh fuck that. I was in.

Hot tradesman. Big cock. Semi-public sex. And at an organization I loathe, as they loathe men like me.

So the address was given. He told me where to park and to text him when I go there.  GPS told me 14 minutes to get there. I think I made it in eight. I text him, he comes out and has a little sigh of relief. As it was frigid out, I had on jeans, Wolverine boots (very very well worn) and a Carhartt jacket. In other words, I looked the part of potentially needing to be down in a boiler room.

He himself had on work boots a sweatshirt and Carhartt overalls. And as it turns out, nothing on under those.

After scoping out the closet, we determined it would be much too cramped for anything. So we opted for the boiler room and though no one had come to check on him all day, he was cautious, and I get that.

He even propped open the door so we could hear if anyone was coming down. As they'd have to get through another door at the top of the steps, we should be able to hear them in time. And he leaned against the cinder block wall right next to the door for optimal hearing. It was a boiler room after all, and it can be noisy. I get it.

He undid his zipper and out came that beautiful meat. Clearly he was commando but that made it easier for me...and him. Nothing for him had to be unsnapped. I went right to my knees.

His cock slid beautifully, and effortlessly, down my throat. I loved it. He loved it. His hands went to my head and he skull fucked me for a little bit, but then would let me do my thing, and then back to skull fucking.

He kept listening for anyone approaching. But he pulled me up by my pits and pushed my back against the wall. I undid my pants - not just my zipper - and let him go down on my dick. While he was a great sucker of cock, his mind wasn't quite in the game, as I know he was multi-tasking by listening. I was too, but maybe I projected more confidence than he. Also, it wasn't my work reputation on the line, his was.

While my dick was exposed, his hand went under my carriage and his finger(s) found my backdoor pucker. My knees weakened just slightly, but enough for him to notice.

Oddly, during our on-line convo, nothing was discussed of likes, dislikes or expectations. The word 'into?' never were exchanged. Not as odd, was, that after zippers went down, not another word was exchanged as well. Nor a moan. Or a groan.

He (I never did get a name), pulled down my pants farther, stood up and spun me towards the cinder block wall. While he was sucking me, he furiously was stroking his big, fat, fucking cock. I knew I was about to be the recipient of that fuck and that cock.

Kind of.

There was no lube other than whatever precum he had. At one point, I'm sure my spit was on that cock, but that had been five minutes ago. He had to have stroked it all off by now, right?

In one SHOVE he was buried in me. All of him. All of "it".

Yes, I wanted his cock. Yes, I wanted it in that dirty boiler room, no doubt where scout masters had already sodomized their future Eagle Scouts.....the ones they wouldn't let in for decades had they known from the start they took it up the ass outside the confines of the organization.

But the body is a funny thing - that kind of violation, no matter how much you want it, you crave it, the body reacts. I had nowhere to go, but I involuntarily tried to crawl off the shaft that impaled me. I didn't want to be off it, but that kind of invasion does not go unnoticed by every nerve ending in your butthole.

He held me down on him. Between his workman's hands and the unforgiving wall, I was there, going nowhere.

It was the only time words were uttered: "I'm shooting".

It was low. Sotto voce, actually.

Since my ass was on fire anyway, I could feel every throb and pulse of that missile. He just kept shooting in me.

I'd tell you I got fucked, but I don't really think I was fucked at all. Sure his cock was in me. Sure his baby batter was now in me, but I'm not 100% sure there was any fucking - or any time for fucking.

And that's what it came down to: efficiencies. He had to get off. He had limited time and an excitable, though limited, environment in which to perform.

Still, the deed was done.

Dirty deeds done dirt cheap, as it were.

He seemed to think about going back down on me, but he just put his junk away and waited for me to do the same and escorted me out of the building.

As a boy, I never made it past Cub Scouts - not that I wanted to - but it's nice to know that somewhere I earned some kind of merit badge for doing something for which would never be rewarded.

I drove home with an ass full of cum with the hope that we'd get together again. I'm not sure that excitement level can be recreated or obtained again, so we'll see if we try again in the comfort of where either of us live, or if we just go on with the masturbatory memory that is the BSA Boiler Room.

Monday, January 12, 2015

All Talk

"When are you going to drop to your knees and treat my cock like it is the only thing in the world you care about other than my balls and hole, that is?"

That was his opening remark to me, via email, while replying to a CL ad where I said I needed a load to start of my weekend. Apparently, I put something in that ad about being verbal and aggressive. It is something I would and have done, I just don't remember putting it in this particular post.

This opening remark made my pulse quicken and my cock harden. I tried not to be like a school girl, rushing back too fast to answer, as he'd sense my desperation.

It seems he got a whiff of it anyways.

6'4", I'm guessing 230, 6"cut, thick, said he was good looking, big balls and a huge load.

Who am I to say 'no'?

He showed. Indeed he was tall and handsome, he was also coming from work, very blue collar - not that I am complaining. Like many trades folks, he smoked - and apparently a lot. Clothes, hands, breath smelled of cigarettes. It's' not my favorite, but it is not like I was living with him or going to make out with him.

"Dan" was rough. His first response to me was cocky. His stature said 'cocky'.  So did his attitude.

He was imposing, even for me. He was taller than myself and well outweighed me. But he was a right in your face kind of guy. I could smell his pheromones and cigarettes at the same time.

He put his mouth on my neck. He put his peach fingers on my nipples - almost as if he knew. He was me weak right then and there - and I kind of hate myself for giving up the ghost within a minutes time.

While he took off his down vest - the rest of his unclothing was left up to me. And while they were work clothes - in every sense of the words - I carefully folded them as needed, if nothing else but to show my respect.

Dan's idea of 'treating his cock' and mine were two different things.

First thing he did was flip me around so I was no longer facing him but facing the wall. He was right behind me, "threatening" penetration.

He asked if I liked that. I nodded. But his own agenda was, "you say you don't like it, but deep down you know you do".


I let him have it. I kept quiet and did most of my communication non-verbally. At this point his cock wasn't even out of this briefs.

He turned me back around and insisted on kissing me. His hands held my face tight as he not only kissed, but stuck his tongue in my mouth - letting me taste every cigarette he'd had of the day. That is not my ideal.

When I did get his cock out, I was on my knees but looking at him right in the eye. I love doing that, so they know that while their cock is important, I'm not there for the penis, but for the man. That I can delay the viewing if it means making a mental connection with the top.

That's my take anyways - I'm not sure if they see it that way.  (tops can weigh in on this, if they'd like.)

His 6" was 5. Decent head. But the balls - and I'm seeing this now and again - were tight and hard. Like dried out leather, hard. Ridged and ribbed and no give to them at all. Is this a thing? Is it a reaction to something they are doing or not doing, that they should?

So when he told me to run my tongue over them, it was like - and I'm guessing since I've never actually done it - licking a medicine ball that had been left out in the desert for 4 weeks. Deflated. hard and almost calloused.

I didn't really get to suck him that much - so I don't know what he considered 'treating his cock'. I got a few swipes, sure, but less than a dozen.

Again, he stood me up and pressed me face against the wall. I was anticipating a fuck that never came. He said he would. He said he'd cum multiple times. He said he'd HAVE to cum multiple times.

Soon though, he had me on my knees and without a word or knowing he was close - he unloaded on my face.

Well my face, the top of my head, the back of my shoulders and as it turns out, the wall behind me.

I will give him this, he shot a lot, he shot with force and distance. But none of it was what I was expecting. Normally, you get the question of 'where do you want the load?' and this time I didn't. But my ad was clear of where I wanted it. His response, in retrospect, didn't say he would. Of course, that is in retrospect - but as I read it the first time, assumed it read differently.

Live and learn.

As for multiple loads?  He was done with his last jet and he was pulling on his briefs.

He was done.

I think he liked talking about all the things we could have done more than he liked doing them - or was able to do them.

It is one for the books, but I don't see a need to revisit that, if the opportunity ever came around again.

Thursday, January 08, 2015

a Town Too Small

Some cities are just not big enough. Especially when one gets around.

A few months ago, I visited a gloryhole, to which I wrote about here. I went back a few more times, each one worth a post of their own, but I've been behind in drafting and publishing those. But for a quick part of one, when I went back there were two guys on the other side of the gloryhole. They took turns blowing me.

Now, while I know I shouldn't know who was on the other side - just as a courtesy - I happened to be finishing a call in my car before going inside and saw what I'm assuming was guy #2 go in first before he took his place behind the door.

I wasn't really snooping but it wasn't hard to figure out which car was his either with the unique color and he had to have a vanity plate, so that was unique too.

Skip forward a few months later (last month, actually) and I'm in the park, cruising, but not cruising -as I've said, it is a very dangerous place due to cops.

Yet lo and behold, who pulls up next to me? The guy with the noticeable colored car along with the plate that stands out as well.

He's interested. I'm interested - though I tell him in no uncertain terms, I'm not looking to get sucked, just to get on my knees, as he's already told me he doesn't fuck guys.

Oh yeah - he's married with kids. He seems a little too gay to be married to a women, but that's his story.....four earrings in each ear and all. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

As he didn't have a place to go, and allegedly had promised his load to another guy he was waiting to meet, we exchanged emails and he said he'd be in touch - which he was. Almost obsessively so. Still I tried to keep him at arm's length, not for lack of interest, but to help manage his expectations.

But he has come over. Maybe 3-4 times now. I don't let him suck me, though I know he sucks. And he's sucked me, but doesn't know it.

Yet it was after his second visit that he said something that made me flash back about 10 years. I'd blow him before.

He's a doctor and I've sucked him in his call room a decade ago. Several times.

He doesn't seem to know this either - and I've opted not to say a thing to him.

Yet the other day, he let me go down on him. Super super super hard cock that is at a 45 degree angle. I like to pull it down while in my mouth and release, watching it spring up in an almost violent way, as he is so erect.

He claims not be to be able to get off from just sucking, but I have done it. But as he likes to direct his load onto my extended tongue - and sometimes face - now and then he'll use his hand to finish the job. But he does claim I'm his best cocksucker.

This last time, he had a two day load. He stood above me, liking to look down on me in every way, while I would feast on his penis.

As I was taking pics, he was hoping to be able to capture the cum going on my tongue. Camera angles were off, but I got some of the cum that missed my mouth and hit my beard.

My tongue is long and talented, but even I could not reach that far down on my chin to lap up the leftovers. Luckily, he scooped it up and fed it to me.

Then he pulled up his pants and was about on his way.

As we reached the front door, a guy who I had made plans with was there, about to knock.

I wasn't not expecting guy #2 yet. When I asked when he would be at my place, his response was '5'.

I took it to mean 5p. I should have clarified. He meant he'd be there in 5 minutes. Who'd have thought that. When do hook-ups happen that quickly? When are they ever truly on time anyways?

I was going to try to pass it off as an appointment I had for something else, but no such luck. These two not only work together, but the doc has been blowing the second guy in his call room.  Sound familiar?

See - small town behavior.

Neither of them seemed phased. Guy #2 - a nice hung, very dark skinned black man - walked in. Doc walked out.

I was asked one question about the doc and gave a high level answer.

Then I went to my knees and sucked off the man in front of me, taking his big fucking load into my mouth.....and swallowing it all.

Monday, January 05, 2015

New Year's Day Suck

He comes to town during the holidays every year. Or at least the last three. Sometimes with his seemingly hotter partner, sometimes by himself.

I've chatted with both of them on one of the pick-up apps (because, they're not dating apps - no matter how much stupid folks try to convince themselves). But as time went on, I'd only end up chatting with one of them. Him.

39, 5'10" 190 ish. 6.5" with a PA (sometimes). Lives out of town, clearly.

As it turns out, I think he is probably the hotter one of the group. Not the bf. But some of it is looks, and some attitude.

The talk had always been hot, but timing never matched up, or maybe they didn't want it to. I was willing, but I'm not the normal barometer, am I? This last New Year's Day, it was a little different.

My gym was open and I was planning to be there. But got a message from this guy asking what I was up to. He was headed back east - driving and wanted a blowjob before heading out.

Well, I was game, but I still had some holiday guests, so I suggested meeting somewhere. He was game for that. If it had not been so frickin' cold, I'd have been happy to do it in some woods near by, but the temps didn't allow for that - at least where one could maintain a hard-on easily.

As it was a holiday, I knew a few public places that would not be crowded and suggested on to him: the parking lot of a commuter rail station. He didn't say 'no', so I said I'd be there in 15 minutes.

His reply: "I don't wait around for faggots".  Fair enough.

I made excuses to my guests saying I was off to the gym earlier than expected and sped to get to my destination on time. He was waiting in a parking area that had a little traffic, but he followed me to a completely empty area. This could have had its drawbacks, as our two cars stood out like sore thumbs, but it also had a good viewing area of anyone even remotely approaching from far away.

No worries, we had no unintended "visitors".

I got into his rented Yaris - which is a crappy car, but it has no center console, which makes it easy for leaning over and giving head. Luxury automobiles have made road head much more uncomfortable.   ....I've heard.

He had on sweat pants, a zip-up sweat jacket and a wife beater below that. When I got into the car, the jacket was already unzipped and he had pulled his soft cock out of his pants. It was still soft when I bent over and took it into my mouth - as we had not verbal play after my door shutting. It was all business.

I know he pulled out his phone and videoed me from the top of my head down on his cock.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't video it from another angle - as you can see. He and I were the only recipients of such video exchange. But it gave nice perspective.

He was rock hard in seconds, by the way.

"Nice way to wake up", he said to me as I bobbed on his cock.

He asked how it tasted, I told it him tasted fucking great, because it did. But I love all cock in my mouth.

He had great precum - in volume and taste.....and I told him so. Then I told him I bet his protein shake tasted better.  It was a reference to him telling me earlier in text that he had one for me.

As one point a train went by and he pushed me down and held me there, "stay down" he said. It was doubtful there was anyone on a train that time of day, or on a holiday, but I complied. I liked being down in his crotch anyways.

While I could have nursed the cock all day, I actually picked up the pace quite quickly. I sucked. I bobbed. I used my lips and tongue. And he responded. He even reached behind me and down my sweat pants to feel my hole. If only I had a place to go where he could have fucked it.

Then his hand kept going back to my head and pushing me deep.  Deep enough to make me gag.  "Gag on it.....c'mon....gag on it.  Oh fuck, I'm gonna fuckin' fill your throat."

Then there was lots and lots of grunts and moaning and catching his breath.

Six days of cum went into my mouth....though much of it directly into my throat. I didn't get to taste much, but it felt warm as the slime slid down my gullet.

I cleaned him up. We said our goodbyes with no more to say. He headed to home somewhere back east and I went to the gym.  He with lighter nuts. Me with a belly full of jizz.

Good way to start 2015.

Friday, January 02, 2015

Two In. One Out.

It was a cold Sunday. I had already taken five loads - four in my ass, one in my mouth.

You heard about three of them in the last post. The first two in my ass in the wee hours of morning counted of course, but the stories are too mundane to bother to write, let alone have you go through the motions of reading.

Still, five loads in a 10 hour period is still admirable, if I say so myself. But it is always easier being the out-of-towner with the hotel room that will bring the folks out who'd never come your way if you resided within city limits.

It's a fact.

But heading back home - surprise !!!! - I was still horny. And a little devil on my shoulder (or texting me on my phone) told me to "I think you need more cum". Who am I to argue?

So I ended up here.

$12 later, I was back wandering the darkened booths, hoping my eyesight would adjust so I could see what dregs of society were walking around near me. Or, I mean, the one hopeful treasure that might be watching a movie who was in need of relief.

There was one. But he was that asshole guy who didn't understand that if you pull out a nice 8" dick and stroke it within a booth that has no doors, that some fucking homo is going to watch you. stop being so offended when one does. This cannot be news to you.

He zipped up and walked away. Dude. Whatever.

I did stumble across a mild-mannered guy. One of those men who you'd never ever think would venture into one of these places. Yet, there he was. You think he'd be more comfortable at home watching a golf match while his wife cooked dinner than here, but then you realize he's the guy who is seemingly comfortable everywhere.

He doesn't react when I look in his booth. He actually smiles. And while he reaches out to cup my groin, he is just as happy when you do it back......and then pull down his zipper......then move him to where you hand been standing so you're at mouth to crotch level.

He could have come here to suck or be sucked. Since you've taken the lead, he's just following. A totally affable chap who isn't meek, but is just as happy that you took the lead.

His dick wasn't big, but it was ok. I liked it more that he liked what I was doing. A number of times, he would pushed me off, as he was getting too close. I attribute that to he was on edge anyways, which is how he ended up at a dump like this. I attribute part of it to that I have excellent oral skills.

It's not bragging if it's true.

He pushed back a little saying he didn't want to get off just yet, as he just got here. I nicely told him - again not bragging - that I had walked around and he wasn't going to find better. He chuckled enough to let me know that he'd been here before and knew that quality and quantity here are not equal. He let me continue.

Most amazing was that he positioned himself so that others looking in could easily see. In a way you could see him as a more private kind of a guy, but clearly he had a streak of an exhibitionist in him. I admired that. It's always the quiet unassuming ones.

It didn't take much longer to get him off. I was rewarded nicely with a mouthful of hot husband cream. He didn't pull out afterward, stroking the side of my face as I nursed him. But when he was done he was done........and gone.  Just how I like 'em.

Guy #2 was in a darkened room that had couches and chairs. Late 30s, bearded, stroking his 7" dick while a less stellar man sat across from him. I touched his cock and he didn't flinch. I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth and he didn't stop me.

I could have asked to go to a booth, but he was here for a reason. I suspect for the bigger audience. I wasn't from here. I didn't care. And I certainly don't mind being watched.

I knew guys were walking by. I knew guys were stopping. But none stayed. And better yet, none tried to break into the action, which is always an issue. Maybe bearded man waved them off, as my face was always in his crotch.

He tried to push me off twice, but I kept going. Yes, I get he wanted to save his load, but I wanted it more. And I received it. Plentiful and a little bitter............but I fucking got it. And I took every drop.

As I got off my knees and wandered back out to the booths, I saw a late 20 something, again with a full beard. He was hot and handsome. I wanted his cock.

Unfortunately, what he wanted was cock. He told me he saw me sucking and he was looking for another load himself.....up his ass.

Mind you, I just took load #7 and was rock hard. And he was hot.

He started to walk away, but I grabbed his ass.

"So you're looking to take seed up here?", I said to him.  He told me yeah. We went to a booth.

He had an excellent mouth but I didn't want that. What I wanted, I wasn't getting, so if I was going to get off, it wasn't going to be in his mouth. That's what he wanted too.

His pants were around his ankles soon enough. He was bent over in front of me, hands bracing himself against the opposite wall. I went in with no problem.

He might have been late 20s but he's been around. And I could feel the just deposited load that was in his hole. I even asked him how bad the guy was - and was his need that great. But he told me it was a really hot guy. So it was probably that guy who took offense to me watching. Maybe I was his troll. What would be painful to know, if true.

The guy had a talented ass. Let's just start there.

As always, I work it into the sex convo and get how long he's been getting fucked. 13 he was by a 15 year old. A 30 year old by the time he was 15. I called him a "whore", as I slipped him 8 thick inches.

I could feel the other guy's load in him. Hell, I could HEAR it, as I started to pump. This kid was wet.

Guys came and went, oddly only looking in for a second or two. Usually they linger. Usually they don't see fucking. I'm glad they left, though it didn't slow me down when they did peek in. I kept pumping away.

Since you've been reading this year, clearly, I've fucked more than most years combined. My stamina is better. I don't pop off within three minutes anymore.

I'm finding guys like that 3 minute fuck. They want the load more than they want the cock. I get that. Kind of.

As a fuckee.......quickies can be just fine. Or if the guy isn't that desirable...but you want to do the deed anyways. But normally, I like to know I've been fucked. I want the guy to feel my guts with the nerve endings on his shaft. I want him to feel good as long as he can before blasting his jizz into me.

And as a that I have a little more control, I like to do that too. The problem sometimes lies with the guy who wants it over quickly. I can't always cum on command, nor do I want to. And truth be told, some of these little snots need to know how to be better bottoms, to realize it's not about their needs.

I mean, I kind of live by that as a mostly-bottom. I worship the man. The cock. And the load. Let us both know our place, whichever it may be.

I fucked this guy for 15 minutes easily. He was pretty good about - just now and then mentioning how much he'd like the load. I told him to be patient. And he was.

But what a grip. I'm just saying, he seems like a natural whore, and just took a ride before me, yet his grip on my shaft was like a fist. He had me on edge a few times, but I slowed up. And then I'd plunge. I extract 95% of the way and then go in fully. He flinched, but in a good way. This wasn't his first rodeo......even for the day.

Truth be told, I had to be somewhere, so looking at my watch, I said, "let's finish this up, shall we?". He actually got excited by that. The prospect of getting the load sooner than later, that is. He told me to cum in him.

Another 60-90 seconds of pumping and I was unloading 5-6 days of semen into his already coated guts. Again, with the milking, he was making sure he got every drop.

It's horrible of me, but while I was coming off my euphoric orgasm, I was now thinking, 'crap, I have to get to a bathroom to clean up a little before heading out'.

But then as I slipped out, he went to his knees and carefully, and fully, cleaned me off with his mouth.

I told him he was a 'good boy'.....and to make sure he got everything all tidy.  And he did.

Then he was gone. Looking for load #3 I suspect.

I thought for a second of looking to see who he snatched, but then opted to just get the fuck out of there.

It was a good weekend.