Thursday, July 20, 2017

W. 49th St.

I was messaging a few guys on BBRT when one of them also found me on Scruff. The latter was easier to message on, said he. And it is, and BBRT has limited amounts of messages a non-paying member can send. He was only a quarter of a mile away or so. He wanted ass. I wanted cock. It was a good fit. His Scruff profile said that guys love or hate his thick cock – as the latter cannot accommodate the size. I was up for a challenge. After a little back and forth I was out the door and walking to his place, after delaying a BBRT hook-up further downtown.

I buzzed and he released the door to let me in. I walked up to find his apartment door ajar. I pushed in, while announcing myself. He was walking out of the bathroom, looking like he had just showered, with a towel around his waist.

”Bret” was beefy, but handsome in his own way. Hairy chest. He was 6’ maybe 210lbs. Early to mid 30s. The pic of his dick make it looked curved with a big head. And thick.

Our foreplay consisted of the following: me reaching for his cock through towel to feel it. It was hard and thick, just as his ad had said. Even through a plush towel, you could feel girth. He opened the towel and the last part of the foreplay was me going to my knees, taking his cock in my mouth for approximately 30 seconds before he told me to get on the bed.

Seeing his cock up close, he didn’t seem to have as much of an upward curve as the picture showed. He was thick, but you know, I’ve kind of been around, so it wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen………..or tasted….or felt.

I kicked off my shoes, pulled off my pants, leaving a shirt and socks on and got on my back at the edge of his bed. He picked up a tube of lube and squirted it on his cock. He barely let me hit the poppers before he had that big head at my opening.

Before penetration, I asked him to play with my nipples and he complied. He had skills with his fingers, which all guys do not have. When he did push into my ass, I won’t say I took him easily, but I never said ‘slow’, ‘hold it’ or ‘stop’. I also certainly say ‘pull out for a minute’. He wouldn’t have cared if I did. That wasn’t just my intuition – he told me as much when he was bottoming out. To him, it was all about fucking and leaving his load.

During the fuck he liked to talk. Some of it dirty, some just chatter. I fucking loved how he was confident enough to say I was taking ‘the best cock in the city’. The city has roughly 4 million men, so statistically he would be wrong (well, I’m assuming), but that he had the balls to say it, and with authority, made me all the hornier. Of course, I agreed with him to inflate the ego and the shaft.

Bret was well versed in the art of the fuck. When a man thinks he has the best cock in the city, he probably knows a thing or two about how it is used. He never asked how it felt for me – it was never about that. He had a solid, in-and- out method. Commanding, but not hurtful….at least to the experienced. For a newbie, it could have been overwhelming. For me? I egged him on, telling him to FUCK me. And he did.

He’d pick up the pace and then slow down. I’d use my ass muscle to grab onto the shaft and then release. He wanted to fuck more, but I could sense he was edging himself too. I was ok with that. It was a good fuck, why end it? A minute or two later, he asked if I wanted the load. I said ‘yes’. “TELL ME, you want the load. Tell me you want me to breed you”.

This is a ploy I have used myself when I top. Absolution. It’s no longer the top asking if you want the load. It is the bottom asking for it. There is no confusion about who is begging for what. There might end up being regrets, but that liability is placed on the shoulders of the bottom asking for the fucking load. That, and let’s face it, the top loves hearing that shit. Begging for his fucking seed.

Bret buried deep and started shooting. The twitches were great. But then he started moving. He wasn’t one to bury and let it just release. He fucked as he shot….and kept fucking and shooting.

He never collapsed on me or anything. He stayed in me while I used my muscles to gain the last drops. He nicely complied when I said don’t move and even raised an eyebrow when he felt me working that shaft. But soon he withdrew.

As I expected, since there was no foreplay, there was no anything else. He wrapped his towel back around him (why?). I slid on my jeans and shoes. There was no offer to ‘clean up’. That would have implied him being more about getting off. As I went for the door he started to thank me. I stopped him in his tracks. There is no need to thank me, I told him. If anything it is my job to show my appreciation. He got it.

As it would turn out, I did show his pic to a friend who lived in Brooklyn when he asked who fucked me. Wouldn’t you know that he knew him?! 4 million men in the city. If 10% are gay, that leaves 400,000 of them……and yet, he knows the guy that just bred me. Figures.

I did ask ‘Bret’ where the nearest CitiBike station was. He told me. And I told him I was on my way to get another cock….another load. He told me to let the guy know I was already seeded - - that it would turn him on.

Three blocks later, I was hopping on a bike and riding downtown 21 blocks to get to the guy I had earlier delayed so I could let Bret send his swimmers up my cunt.

Wednesday, July 05, 2017

CLAW 2017 #3 - the Breeding

You might have noticed in these few CLAW stories that I had not yet gotten off. Yet. It’s not like I was getting any offers. It’s not like folks were clamoring for me. I mean, a few paid attention to me for a bit. One being a beautiful Lebanese man at his first leather event. Another being a pup. I’m not at all into that scene. I find it horribly annoying. That said, this was a man in a pup persona. He was physically beautiful. Not handsome, but closer to pretty, yet masculine. He liked nuzzling me when he was on his knees, making me hard for all to see, be it through my 501s, my leather pants or my kilt. And he’d do it at all the wrong locations, though I think that was by design.

And speaking of kilts………at the vendor fair, one of my CLAW co-workers, who was also a vendor, was talking to me and started feeling me up…..or down…..and under my leather kilt. He had me raging. It was all a tease, as he couldn’t leave his booth and yet couldn’t fuck me there.

And speaking of kilts (#2)…..while strolling through said fair, I happened upon a vendor selling kilts. I happened to “know” the proprietor. He had two helpers… I “knew” and one I did not. The one I did not was stunning………and straight. But a guy has to make coin, no? So he was a good lure for the business and guys were milling around him. That’s nice and all, but clearly unobtainable on many levels.

The other helper is very handsome himself. We chatted about their kilts and how I might like one or two of them. And I did. One was very very light weight, almost too much so that in any kind of breeze, there’d be no question on if I were wearing it correctly. He talked me into trying on one…and then another. Each time left me bare-assed naked, and semi-aroused….or a little more than semi….in the middle of the vendor floor. He seemed to like that. So did others.

The proprietor showed me off to his neighboring vendors where I seemingly got the seal of approval, but only in a nod. I’ll take it. “Troy”, the helper, also mentioned reading this here blog and how he loves it – and how the written word can be more erotic than video / pictures….to which I agreed. I was turning all shades of red, I fear. It was a great compliment that I could turn on such a man. But again, like my CLAW co-worker, he was working so nothing to be had from that. Drats.

The funny thing about CLAW is, that while there are literally hundreds of men right in front of you, is how many people are on their fucking Scruff, Recon, Grindr, Mr X apps looking for guy with which to fuck around. The change in culture is weird – though I’m just as guilty. The art of cruising is dying, if not dead.

….so there on an app, and lord know which one, was a faceless guy looking to collect loads up in his room. A door would be open, and he’d take all comers…..and cummers.

Now, for as often as I’ve been to CLAW, I’ve never knowingly participated in one of these adventures. Of course, in my mind, I’d be the one taking on all cummers, so……this was exciting and disappointing all at the same time. We went back and forth – when I was finally free, he wasn’t and vice versa. Finally it clicked. He gave me his room number and I was on my way.

Opening the door, I could see the back of him dead center at the desk the room provides. He was bent over it, back to me.

He was good. He never turned around. He knew his place. His stats seemed accurate, but overall it did not matter much. He wasn’t morbidly obese or anything, and at this point, he was to be a hole. I’d say he was 6’, 190-200 lbs. I came into the room and shut the door. I don’t know what I was thinking.

I had on my well worn 501s. I was commando and sporting a thick chrome cockring. This was CLAW, there was little use to be subtle. The look was wasted on him, as he never saw me. I didn’t even undo the belt, as I just popped the buttons and hauled my hardening cock out of its confines.

I’m not one for testing a hole with my fingers. I made assumptions I wasn’t his first cock….let alone this weekend…….this day….or maybe even this hour. I used my own spit as lube, even though he had some in plain sight. But this wasn’t about him. Not really.

I was hard, but could have been harder. I was hard enough to push into him his hole. While I don’t think I was the first one in, I also had no detection of a load lingering in his guts. He moaned like I was his first. Maybe I was his biggest in a while, but I think we all know I wasn’t his first………….that day.

Clearly looking down, and assuming he didn’t have a bad blood transfusion in his past or was an IV drug addict, I wasn’t his first.

I kept plugging away.

Now, my norm is that I struggle to stay hard while I fuck. It’s not physical – more mental. Top isn’t usually my sexual place in life. It would be so much easier for me if it were. But I was doing ok this day. I was feeling confident, even a little dominant. And even when I do fuck, I have a tendency to ejaculate far more quickly than I’d like. It’s not premature or anything, just a combo of ready to cum and not wanting to lose my hard-on before I do. Again, this was it didn’t seem like it would be a problem.

The guy was taking it like a champ. Easy enough to bottom out, but enough traction to keep me stimulated.

…….then there was a knock on the door.

I asked my ‘host’ nothing. I withdrew and went to the door to answer it. I didn’t know who it was. I didn’t care. This goes back to my earlier comment on not knowing what I was thinking. Of course, the guy had others in queue to come up and bone his butt. I should have never full closed the door – and just let anyone else push the door open as I had to join the fun. Yeah, I kind of care what they look like, but this wasn’t my party…….and I was just a participant. It was more about the attitudes of guys who come to these would-be gangbangs.

I just opened the door and stepped back. I let him see I wasn’t the host, as that guy was still bent over the desk. The other guy just walked in. I can’t say he was my type, but I wasn’t the one taking it up the ass. Maybe 5’7”, pushing 60 with the slightest of paunches. He pulls down his pants, his dick looks ok flaccid. He follows me over to the guy and watches me punch my cock back up his hole. I ask him if he likes what he sees, meaning me, and he does.

While still in him, I turn the fuckee around – still not seeing him – and have him facing other guy’s dick. He takes it in his mouth. I fuck for a while. Actually staying hard and not near completion. This is how fucking should go. Use the hole. Feel it……making my own cock feel good. It’s what I hope other tops feel when they fuck my cunt. I look at the other guy and ask him if he wants a shot at that hole. He says yes, then steps away from the mouth. Before I give up the hole, this guy, as best I can tell, hits a button in his scrotum to pump up his cock. I’m guessing it is an internal pump to make himself hard.

Once he was there, he came near me to insert into the host’s ass. I considered going around to have him suck me, but I opted not to see his face….ever. It was a game at this point. So I stood aside and watched the new arrival fuck the guy. He was ok at skill and it was nice to watch. He then said he had gotten off three other times that day and wasn’t sure he could get off.

Fuck. I hate that shit. I counted on him to deliver. I talked him up. I egged him on. I degraded the bottom. All in hopes of getting to the edge…………….and it worked. He started shooting up the guy’s ass. Taking his time finishing and pulling out.

I wasted no time. None. I move the bottom over to the bed and bent him over. I pushed in. I wanted to feel that warm load - - and I did. It oozed around my cock. I could feel it. I had every intent on plugging away until he got an additional load.

As you can see - I got my way. 

I fucking left my load up where the other guy – who had already taken off – had put his, and no doubt as others before him had done.

And just for fun, I thought you’d get to see his loaded hole after I was done – such as it was.

After that, I just got out of there. I saw no reason to stick around, nor I’m guessing did he want me to. We both gotten what we wanted and if I were him I’d just be waiting for the next guy. I buttoned up and didn’t look back, though I’m 100% sure he never picked his head up from the bed to see who I even was.