Loathing

I've written about him before. Here and Here.

I used to say that he was distant. Aloof maybe. I might reassess though. He might just be a dick.

After the fuck (the second hyperlink), I never heard from him again. We are talking almost four full years ago. I have seen him around town here and there, but to say I got the cold shoulder would be saying the iceberg that took down the Titanic was just a cube.

I think I could have made him go into a mad dash had I attempted more than a nod - a nod that would never be returned. I don't think it possible for him to acknowledge my presence....or existence.

Years had passed until an acquaintance brought up his name in another context. Yes, I knew his name, but accidentally.  This friend asked if I thought he was "a bit off". I said from my little experience he was - but then I got a detailed version of an encounter he had - a non-sexual one.  Then this friend asked why I thought he was 'off'.

I hesitated for a second before deciding to get into detail I usually only write about here. But since this friend doesn't know about the blog (I don't think), I have him a slightly more sanitized version. He was fascinated. As he should be.

Maybe like saying 'Voldemort' out loud, talking about him summons him, as not a week later that he pings me on Grindr or all apps. His profile image was a super duper close up of his chest. No face pic. Nothing to distinguish it was him. Then he sent me a face pic- and a cock pic.

My guess is, he sent them to me before he realized he'd done the nasty with me a number of times before. But unlike Outlook, there is no retracting a message that easily.

What was done was done. And since he continued with me, I would say he was more horny than anything. One of those times he thought he could overlook history to get his dick off. And you've all read enough of me that I've dealt with a lot worse to get a load.

I got home about 10 minutes before he came over. He literally pushed his way in and past me, remembering the place we had done the nasty in the past. Not a word was said.  You could just feel his sense of loathing. I could. I'm guessing, given the chance, Helen Keller could have.

He was all business, which is fine. I think somewhere in his mind he thought I wanted more from him. I never had. I never will. Or, now as I type this, maybe that's what pisses him off - that I really don't have feelings for him one way or the other. Clearly, I'm triple guessing myself.

By the time I got into the room, he already had his pants unhooked and pants partially down. His shirt was pushed up showing his very clipped chest. This reminded me how he liked to have his chest played with......but I got it wrong.

I went at it with my hands, but he wanted mouth only on his chest. A mouth on a chest keeps it off his cock. That seems unfair.

As it turns out, he was more into using his hand to get himself started while I worked his chest. You could feel the uncomfortableness of his situation. He was here, but was hating me for it - or himself. Or both.

I shouldn't have been surprised that I was only on his dick - as beautiful as it is - for less than a minute when he dumped his load.

What I also forgot was his sensitivity. He barely got two rounds off and pushed me off. More cum went onto the floor and my cupped hand (hey, I didn't want to stain the berber) than into my mouth.

I swear to you - he didn't even finish cumming when he started walking out, and pulling up his pants as he went opened the door and went down the stair. His shirt was still pushed up as he made it into the freezing temps - not even bothering to shut my front door.

In certain ways, I laughed at his behavior. In other ways, I was more offended by it.  Let's face it, I've had some guys say some nasty things to me while I'm taking care of their needs. I've had straight guys in video booths ignore my existence while down on my knees.

I think Jim (no quotes) just hated me. Loathed my existence and what I did for him. Maybe he loathes himself too - for what he does, allows others to do or who they are.

I've never truly felt bad about sex before - and while it was only a fleeting feeling, it kind of pissed me off.

Now I just want to fuck with him (not literally) the next time I see him.   Maybe I will.

Safe / Unsafe

A guy, a bear, I had seen on Grindr a number of times reached out to me…..finally. I had complimented him in the past with no interaction. So either he just realized I was alive or had finally gotten to the bottom of the barrel. I can live with either, I suppose.

In his previous profile it was just him. Now his profile picture had him and another man – another bearish kind of guy – next to him. It would turn out to be his husband.

He reached out to me and wondered if I was interested in a 3-way. Well, DUH! Then he said he really wanted to watch as I fucked his husband.

Sigh.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wanted them to tag team me, but that wasn’t in the cards. But I was intrigued by him pimping out his husband to a stranger. And one who gets off on watching said husband get used and seeded by that stranger. If I had a guy egging me on, topping could be better, right? You already know I agreed to go, or there wouldn’t be this entry.

Texts were exchanged. Some detailed discussion. And after a few days then the pimp guy say, “we play safe only, so you’ll need a rubber”. Fuck. Still, I agreed to go.

After much back and forth, one Sunday morning I was knocking on their door. Both guys were as advertised. Actually, in some regards they looked alike. One had a rounder face and slightly less hair, but overall, they kind of resembled each other. 5’7” ish, dark hair, a little bearish. The pimp daddy greeted me while the other finished prepping. Squeaking clean was what I was told.

He appeared and upstairs we went. Pants were dropped, shirts came off. The sub-husband went to his knees and started sucking me. Dom-husband came over and kissed me. I was hardening nicely. The sucking went on for a while, but I was in no danger of unloading. I suppose it is important to mention that it had been 4+ weeks since I had ejaculated. This was something of which both were informed.

When time came to bone the boy, he stood up. I took this opportunity to drop to my knees and take his nice, but average cock into my mouth.  His partner moved closer, and for a short while I took them both into my mouth while they kissed.

Soon, the boy bent over the bed and waited. The dom-husband provided me the rubber. I accepted that I would be wearing it and it was an ok fit at first. I never thinking any of them fit that well. They always wrinkle and bunch up – and that can before you even start the in-and- out motion.

It’s me – and you’ve read about me topping – so while I was pretty hard, I wasn’t solid hard. So it took some work to get it in his hole. It was a nice hole too. Warm. Inviting. Tight but clearly not virgin. After I was in, I was fine, at least for a while.

Dom husband went from my side to going in front of his better half and presenting his cock to him. The guy on all fours took it eagerly. I egged on for him to fuck his face….and he did, but not nearly as much as I think he might had he not known him, let alone been married to him. Still, it was kind of hot.

As for egging on, I was hoping the dom guy would really want his hubby used. And maybe he did, but I never quite got the green light for that. He wasn’t nearly as verbal as I had hoped. I suppose I had expectations that if one is going to pimp out a guy, you want to see another guy just take him. Maybe that part is on me.

It was at this point, my cock slipped out of his hole. I was only semi hard and the rubber just was all bunched up. The husband offered me a new baggie, but I declined saying I’d make this work. I asked him to play with my nipples and he came behind me to do it. That always gets me to stiffen, and I did. The rubber got tighter for sure, but still creased. I tried to stretch it out as much as possible while also getting more lube. The bottom stayed in place, like a good boy. I could also feel the dom husband’s dick behind me as he leaned in to play with my nips. That helped my hard-on too.

With my left hand holding the small of his back, and the right on my dick, I guided myself back into the boy. His head went to the mattress. At first I thought it was my imagination, but in fact the dom was closer to me while still feeling my chest. I pumped, I kept feeling his cock against my crack.

"Fuck him”, said the dom. "He can never get enough cock."  Nice. Just what I wanted to hear. The bottom moaned, loudly. The dom leaned in more, his mouth right to my left ear, “shhhhhhhhhh”, in a way that no one else could have possibly heard other than me. Then I felt it.

Slicked up and raw, dom hubby slid his medium sized cock up my ass. I said nothing. I breathed no differently. I didn’t yelp. I stopped my fucking motion for about 10 seconds and then started, pulling out while backing up onto the pole behind me. It wasn’t elegant and he couldn't pound away. Honestly I could not tell if the bottom in front of me knew what was going on, or if this had been planned.

I started peppering the sex talk with vague comment that could go to either party: “how does that fucking feel?” “you like that?!”. “fuck that feels amazing”. I think everyone was getting out of this what they wanted.

While he hadn’t fucked as long as I, and no words were spoken, I could feel that cock pulse in my ass. I felt the throbs, though not the cum. At this point, he was telling me to pump that ass. He was finishing and I think he either wanted me to do the same or possibly cover up what was literally going on behind his husband’s back.

I started to make my getting close sounds. He slipped out of me and stood by my side, “stroking” his dick. “Pull out and cum all over him!” I slid out and the rubber just kind of stayed clenched in his ass, that’s how loosely it remained. The bottom flipped over, showing his treasure trail and chest hair. Two strokes later, I was unloading 4+ weeks of sperm all over the guy. The top loved it. The bottom said nothing. He stroked but did not cum.

The sub husband immediately got up and went into the bathroom to clean up. I didn’t even bother wiping my dick. I reached for my shirt and jeans. The bottom was never to make another appearance. The top winked at me and said softly, “our little secret”.

He escorted me downstairs and let me out. I haven’t heard from them since, nor do I expect another invite.

Turd Ferguson

Before committing this to the blog, or if I was even going to, I was telling a trusted friend this tale. I told him of my hesitancy and he insisted that I had to write it. I’m doing it, yet I am not so sure. Yet, here we go…….

I was walking the beach on a beautiful sunny day when I got pinged on Scruff. He was 0.23 miles away, which in theory isn’t far, but that is as the crow flies. It is much longer when you are walking and there are side roads and long winding driveways.

Normally I don’t show who I have hooked up with here (save a flash of a body part now and then), but for one thing, I’m never ever ever gonna see this guy again. And secondly, it will put into context why I agreed to leave the sandy shore and go to see him.

I don't normally attract guys who look like this.  Maybe it should have been my first clue.

The usual on-line exchange happened – nothing out of the ordinary other than he really liked to eat ass. I mentioned it was one of my fave things to do. He liked to munch ass before he fucked. I’m down with that. He mentioned he even had a rim seat. I’m down with that too. But as it was a beach town, I did think ‘who the fuck travels with a rim seat?’

The crow and my feet are two different thing: that .23 miles is like a 25 minute walk. The house was secluded…..up winding side streets and up longer driveways…..or mud paths, as the case may be. I felt the need to be covered in Deep Woods Off. It was also a good place for a body to disappear. Yet….here I was….and I kept going.

Mr. Muscle was exactly has he advertised, in the looks department. Handsome. Good body. His dick wasn’t hard yet, but……….at this point, I could live with whatever it turned out to be. We went inside, but hell, no one could see us where we were and I do love outdoor sex. But no. Into the house/cabin we went. He was wearing thin, threadbare tighty whities.

I find out he doesn’t just have a rim seat but a sling too. Ok. I’m into that.

The guy seemed a little manic. I wondered if he was on anything, and he might have been. He wasn’t so off the charts that I felt I needed to go. He was fooling with something on the bed and bent over just so. I ran my hand over his cotton-covered ass, knelt down and pulled them down just so. He remained still and waiting at this point. I parted his cheeks and licked his crack. Then I dug in. He moaned. He wiggled his ass in my face, pushing back so I could be engulfed by his butt.

If you rim, you realize the risks. Or you should. Sometimes you find about them the hard way, like a parasite you might pick up and leaves you and your GI tract useless for days. Or you taste unclean hole, despite all their efforts……………IF they make efforts, that is. But it’s like scaling Everest, you know the risks, yet you persist for a greater purpose. Or maybe I’m just kidding myself.

So I’m tongue fucking this guy and he’s moaning. But I’d find out he’s not moaning for exactly the same reason I am.

My tongue is about to make another run up into his lower colon when I right before I dive in, I see that while I’m going in, he’s coming out. The turtle head.

My reactions are lightning fast. I jump back. “NOOOOO dude, I am SO NOT into that!!!!!”

He kind of apologized and didn’t go use the restroom, so I guess he just pulled it back in? So he leads me over to the rim seat……

At this point the friend to whom I’m telling this story laughs and screams, “YOU STAYED??????”

It was only then I realized how perverted this all sounded. And it led to my decision almost not to tell the tale.

But stay I did. And when we went to the rim seat it was I who sat and he who scooted under. And I’ll give him this, he ate hole like a champ. He was getting it wet and sloppy for fucking. Aces!

I’d like to say I should have known better, but I wasn’t quite thinking in this regards either….or just blocking it out. He started moaning, asking me to take a dump in his mouth. Involuntarily, my ass clenched, keeping anything I had in my bowels firmly in place.

Still (!), I stayed. Still he ate. And every few minutes would beg. I felt my defenses being chipped away. I’d think to myself, “what is the harm?” I wasn’t the one who was going to eat it. If I didn’t have to see it, should I care? Would just knowing it happened completely freak me out?

I tried to talk myself into by saying in my head, “it’s one of the few things I have NOT yet done, and wouldn’t I regret a missed opportunity, no matter how disgusting I found it.” Part of me truly knew that answer. Part of me – a small part – thought “eh….why not?”.

Mind you, I’m the kind of guy who would is a bit private about my bathroom routine. Sure, I’ll have sex in a bathroom stall, but for anything else in there, I’d just prefer no one was in the room at all – should it be public. Even at home alone, the door is closed during.

See? I can be shy and demure.

Yet here I was, in a rim seat with a hot guy below me making my ass feel great with his mouth. Silently, without verbalizing a thing, I attempted. ….and attempted. …..and attempted. I’m assuming that he was right under me, he had to see some physical manifestation of my trying to give him what he wanted.

I’m still not 100% sure if it was my body or mind that couldn’t produce a thing for him. Probably a combo. While my conscious self seemed to be open to the idea, the subconscious side of me wasn’t allowing it. Mr. Muscle Shit Eater was not thrilled with this. Of course, I’m thinking: c’mon – how many time do your hook-up actually get into this, let alone do the deed?

So soon it was onto the bed. While he wasn’t nice about it and it was a rough fuck, he did come through with his part of the bargain. He pumped my hole in a harsh and fast manner. I think it took him all of two minutes to come and it didn’t seem all that pleasurable for him. If I’m being honest, I think he just did it to get me the fuck out of there.

.......and that is why I stayed.