Sunday, March 24, 2019

Tying and Topping

I was in a mood.

Let me correct that. I became in a mood.

I was sitting at my local friendly Starbucks looking through A4A, Scruff, Grindr, Recon….you name it, because I wanted to suck cock….or maybe take it up the pooper. But the sex gods were not with me this day. At least the top ones.

The ones who wanted me to top were working overtime. The more frustrated I became with not getting any for me, the more I started to think I should go fuck someone else. Things weren’t looking good when I got rejected by 2-3 people who could have done a LOT worse than myself. Fuck You Very Much.

One I wasn’t really targeting hit me up. The pic was intriguing and he had on mirrored sunglasses which always makes a man look hotter. He said he’s there to serve real men – nothing off limits and he’d do whatever I said. I have found this to be untrue, time and time again. It’s not that I ever go to extremes, but hell, many times you can’t find a guy who can, or will, actually swallow every inch and every drop.

And at this point, I didn’t want my white gold going in a mouth.

He also asked if I was rough. I told him I could hold my own. He said he’d be ready in 30 minutes. I said, make it 20. And he was – like a good faggot.

He was older, and less attractive than his picture. His body was sub-par, but it’s not like I was going to fucking date him. Or even get to know his name. The apartment was……..unfortunate. Four rooms with many many many displayed action figures. I get that people collect them. I do. But………when your grown-man bedspread is Batman symbols…….it’s a little sad, unless you’re Sheldon Cooper….which you’re not.

And it must have been 90 degrees in the apartment. Mind you it was 20 out, but with coat and sweatshirt on, I immediately broke a sweat. He was only in briefs – neon green ones that I could see he had roped off his balls and cock. He led me back to his bedroom and I immediately got him on his knees. He was begging for my cock, but I wasn’t there yet. I made him gnaw through my jeans. I slapped the side of his face – HARD. It got a groan, albeit a happy one. You could tell he loved it. That was a shame for me. I didn’t want him to like it at all.

Like I said – I was in a mood.

I did release my cock. I wasn’t letting him touch it or access it just yet, though I wouldn’t hold out too long. He was a decent cocksucker. He could take it. He could take it all. He didn’t struggle too too much as I held him down on it for extended periods of time, never easing up on my grip.

He had bad knees (amateur) and was soon on his bed, head hanging over it, while I deep-dicked him from above. Again, very good skills. He whimpered like a faggot in need. I know the sound all too well. And I face fucked him good and hard too. I was kind of amazed at the power at which I was providing my cock.

I had already spied an open box on a chair across the room. A small toy chest if you will. So when pulling my cock out of his throat, I walked over to it. I owned the room. He said he’d do whatever I said – right?

In the box was some rope, a number of dildos and a few other things like cockrings, etc. I grabbed the rope.

Now, I was never a boy scout and short of tying my own shoe/boot laces and a neck tie, I’m not trained in the art of the knot. But what the fuck – I’d give it a try. He was faced down on the bed, I walked around and bound his hands. The rope went around both wrists multiple times. I wrapped them tight. I triple knotted them.

I made the rookie mistake of binding his hands in front of him – but more on that in a bit.

I went back and secured one leg to his bedframe – underneath the box springs. Then I turned my attention back to his box of tricks. Both dildos were black. One was big. One was basically the size of a 12 year old’s arm. I started with that one.

The stupid fucker had no lube. I mean, WTF? He is on-line wanting to bottom, needs lube other than spit (or so he said) and has none? Since he was tied up, I went into his kitchen and found his olive oil. When I came back, the asshole was snorting poppers. This meant, he got out of one restraint. He said the rope was cutting into him. I reminded him that he was the one who said he’d do ‘whatever I wanted’. I wanted him bound, but I’m not a complete asshole. You ask to be untied or have it adjusted.

So now I WAS in a mood.

The idea had been to start with the smaller (but still large) dildo. Now I opted for the extra large one. And I could have been nice about it. I poured the olive oil on it generously. But I did it over the bed. Like I gave a fuck at this point if a mess was to be made. Then I rammed it in.

Well, I rammed it about 4” in. That mother was fucking thick. As accepting as his hole was, or wanted to be, the thickness of that fucking dildo was a little much. And since I’m not a complete asshole (no, really, It’s true!), I switched back to the smaller one. Since his hole was olive-oiled up, I didn’t do anything with this one….and just pushed it up his cunt. And dildo-fucked it for a bit. Then I just withdrew and slammed in the big one. It didn’t go all in, but a fuck of a lot more than 4”.

He groaned like a little bitch.

It didn’t stop me. I didn’t slow to assess if it was a good or bad groan. I didn’t care. I was in a mood. I used that arm-sized dildo on his hole for a bit. He muffled any complaints he may have had.

Truth be told, I grew bored with the toy play. I extracted the dildo and shoved my cock up there. As big as I think my cock is, between the dildo play and his well-used ass, there wasn’t tons of traction, but it was a warm hole. It didn’t take me long to get off.

I hadn’t shot for a while, so I provided a big deposit. I made little noise. I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction if it felt good to me. I was providing my own pleasure more than he was giving it to me.

As he lay there, I got dressed. I told him to stay put. I zipped up, buttoned up and walked out. Never to return.

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Nerd Fuck(s)

I can surely drag stories of the big-dicked Nerd out to any number of posts. There would be little variation usually. Mostly it is still just me giving head to his incredible dick. So I thought I’d comprise a few of the non-sucking stories here.

The Nerd has fucked me maybe 4-5 times. It has always been the same, more or less. We touch each other, I go to my knees for him, we touch some more….his hands grazing my nuts, then my taint, then the hole.

The fuck has almost always been the same – me bent over the counter, him hastily shoving his cock in me, cramming it as it were. While I like the man, I fear he had no true technique when it came to the art of the fuck. It was almost jackhammer and then quickly cum. Saying that – it’s a great cock and always a superior load, so I was happy to take whatever he’d give.

Between these times where we are having butt sex, I’ve been happy to suck that beautiful cock. There is an erotic tension between us, which is palpable….and nice. I’m never sure how far I can push him. He seems innocent enough – though that’s relative, I suppose – and I fear that I might freak him out if I’m too forward or push for more “fun”.

This time in question, we were not in the kitchen, as people were working in it. We went through the same routine of touching, sucking and getting ready to fuck. As we stood facing each other, him running his finger over my butthole, there was little space between us. At this point, he leaned in and kissed me, something he’s never done. If I had to wager on this beforehand, I’d have ventured he was a mediocre kisser. I would have lost that bet.

The lip action didn’t last long, but it was intense. This time, he nicely asked that I get on my back on the desk. He wanted to fuck me face-to-face. I was so down for it.

As it would turn out, this would be a great position for both of us, well, once he figured out where the hole was. I’m only joking a little. The new angle had us thrown off a bit. But once he found it, that big fucking thick cock sunk deep into my hole. No poppers. Just breathing.

I gotta say, the Nerd was in his element. The change of position changed how he fucked. While still insistent and hard, it wasn’t a jackrabbit fuck. The man DOES know how to drill an ass. He lasted way longer than the kitchen counter encounters. Still, I could hear it in his voice and his breathing that he wasn’t far from dumping his seed in my butt.

Like he does when I suck him, he has orgasmic reactions during and after shooting his load. I actually love watching and hearing it.

I was hoping for a lean in kiss as he came, but it wasn’t meant to be. Nor has it been since. I don’t know if the kiss freaked him out or not, but it’s never been approached since.

He slowly withdrew from me, both of us shaking at the intensity for the fuck…..and of the load.

It was one of the few times I jacked off this year. He asked to see it…………..and he got his wish.

The last two times we played it was outside. The second to last time it was oral, with some ass play. I won’t say there was actual fucking. I wouldn’t even say there were true attempts. By the time we seriously considered it, his internal count had already started. I have been with him enough to know that once that countdown starts, the rockets will blast no matter what.

While I like to take the load (obviously!), I’m up for new fun. He was already between my legs, me being on my back. I reached down and spread my cheeks. “Spray that load all over my asshole. Not my ass, but right on the fucking hole”. He seemed confused, but complies.

He is never as vocal as I’d like. His moans of pleasure and moans of ejaculation are one and the same. So until I started feeling warm jets hit my exposed hole and flesh, only then did I know he was cumming.

The last time he fucked me was just near end of Fall. We played outside, in my front yard which is greened in, so no one can truly see. Sure, there’s a road next to my house, and with leaves falling,  if the drives can see through the green while going 30 mph, then more power to them, I hope they catch a glimpse. But they’d never be able to pick me out of a line-up.

The idea was for a blowjob. Yes, I wanted more. Yes, I know he wanted more. But out meet ups are usually after work, where he has to get home to his wife or husband. I’m not sure which, as we have never truly discussed it, as in the big scheme of things, it doesn’t really matter.

I wasn’t “prepared” to get fucked, if you know what I mean. There is never enough time from leaving work to getting home to him showing up. It’s a ballet and douching is rarely a part of that dance.

Yet, here we were. I was wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts (going commando) as it was in the mid-60s. He figured out my underwearless situation early on as my boner was more like a tent pole. He reached under to play, but I just pulled them off like a third rate stripper.

This time he didn't really ask permission and I didn't really protest. He just turned me around.

I faced the house and placed my hands on the windowsill.   He was behind me but with the help of the windows, I could see his reflection in the glass.

It was nice to see the ecstasy in his eyes, as they'd squint a little as he got past my ring.  I watched his head go back a little as he hit bottom.  I could see him look at me as I looked back.

While I'd love to say it was a long fuck, it was not. But I loved being able to see his face as he came in my guts.

We are so down for more play -and while I have blown him here and there, our lives and some unfortunate instances have sidelined either him or myself or both. 

We will get back on track - and you'll get more stories.

Wednesday, March 06, 2019


I was over in Paris. It’s a hard town to get laid in if you’re a bottom. EVERYONE on the sex apps are bottoms. I would say I had my work cut out for me, but early on, I knew, even being the new guy in town, I was fighting a tidal wave.

That’s not to say I didn’t try. Lots and lots of flakes.

Yet here I was with a two plus week load in my nuts. I had little free time and I wasn’t about to waste it in the shower drain.

A few hundred feet away from me was - for lack of better terms – a twink.

Totally not my style, but there he was, and presenting me in pics with a nice cock and nice ass. The ass was hairless, I don’t think shaven, which is again, something that isn’t my thing. That said, there is something to be said to trying something different, and if I’m gonna fuck, maybe it’s best that it’s a guy who isn’t a man. If he were more masculine, I’d want to be the guy taking pipe.

He texts me his address. I knew it was at the store at which he worked. And lo and behold, a few blocks later I was there. High end. Floor to ceiling windows on both the first and second floor. I was a little suspicious, but as you’ve figured out here long ago, I’m game for most things.

He locked the door behind me and lowered the lights. He told me to wait upstairs, which I did. Sitting on a chair near the windows, slouched a little, legs spread wide and rubbing my crotch. He came up and motioned me to the back of the store.

We ended up in a large changing room. It has one small bench and the entire room was mirrored. I was kind of digging this.

Without a word, he dropped his clothes. All of them. He encouraged me to, but he got my shirt off, my pants undone and dropped, but not off. Not in a store I didn’t know, in a town that wasn’t mine.

I sat on the bench while he knelt and took my cock into his mouth. He did an ok job, but I’m guessing sucking wasn’t his main skill. Soon he turned around, still on his knees, exposing that ass and hole to me.

You know I love eating ass, so I dove in. There is something to be said for tonguing a hairless hole. I could tell he made an effort to clean it, but it still had funk to it. No so much that it made me pull back or stop. Trust me, it was cleaned when I finished eating it than when I started.

But I was under a time constraint.

At first, my cock was rock hard. I spit onto it and smeared that saliva around. There’d be no bottled lube here. I lined up and pushed. His ass resisted more than I think it should have. But maybe it was a natural reaction to having something shoved up your shitter.

Of course, it opened up and gave way. I loved watching that thick shaft just start to sink into this hole, disappearing inch by inch – and not at a snail’s pace. He took it well. He was not a novice.

Admittedly, the pants around the ankles, boots on, were kind of a limitation in my movements. And as always, mid fuck, my bottom-wired brain started encroaching on my top-like cock. Fuck! I hate that, but I am who I am.

I was able to keep up the fuck for a while, but we had to change positions.

I sat on the bench and told him to lick my nuts and play with my tits. He did so for both, the ball licking was fine, he has no skills with playing with nipples. It was enough, however, to get me harder. 

We went again. This time on his back, lets up. My cock in his hole.

He was on his back, so I finally got it when he semi rolled to his right, somewhat straining his neck, so he could look into the mirrors, watching himself getting fucked.

I have no illusions that he was watching me fuck him. He was watching HIM getting fucked. There is a distinction. I was fine with it. My ego as top isn’t that big, so it wasn’t an issue.

Actually, I took page from his playbook on this. I didn’t care about him in the slightest. I mean, at all. And I’m usually an exhibitionist, so why not spin it a little. I watched myself fuck. I watched my technique, my body language, my facial expressions. Now and then I’d look down to see my dick disappear, then reappear, inch by inch.

So I MIGHT have a slight ego when I’m topping, as I was kind of getting off on myself a little. I was, at the very least, getting off on the act, the location, the anonymity of it all. I was going to get off in him, but not really because of him.

As I had like 16 days of sperm in me, I kind of spurred myself on to finish off and get going. I was meeting folks for dinner and I knew how hard it was to get laid in Paris, so I somewhat, mentally, spurred myself to finish. We’ve all done that, right? It can’t just be me.

Don’t ask for specifics, because I don’t have them. It’s just a thing I do, trying to will the rest of my body to get to a point where I ejaculate.

And ejaculate I did. I creamed his fuck hole. I unloaded U.S. sperm into his Parisian guts. No apologies.

The fucker used his muscles to force me out way sooner than I would have liked, as I was not 100% cumming. Because he did this, it forced cum to ooze out of him and as I was still dripping, my DNA got on that precious high-end carpeting in the dressing room. To be honest, I don’t’ think any of the patrons or shop owners would have even noticed, but he started freaking. Using cheap toilet paper to blot it up, which made the TP to stick to the carpeting.

I hate scenes like this, as I was now locked in the store, and was dressing while he ran around trying to erase any existence of my being here and he still needed to get changed so he could let me out.

I left the store and joined friends for dinner. And honestly, until writing this for you, I gave him no second thought at all.

I wonder if that’s what tops experience with me.