Columbus 3 & 4

The first two departed and the next two would be separate, but in close succession of each other. Unlike the first two – one would be decent, one would be not as much. One would be white. One would be black. One would have a good sized cock, one would not……and based on the previous two sentences, you’d be wrong about which one was larger.

The white dude was probably older, smaller stature and decent hang. His BBRT account was dick pic. He never sent an actual pic. But it wasn’t about that. Door was to be ajar, lights off, ass greased and up. I’d never see him. He even called me from a block number to say he was near so I could get ready.

He knew who I was (well, kind of), but this would be as anonymous as one can get these days with everyone attached to everything electronic.

Face down, I heard the door open, close and the latch be secured. I heard the belt open, the pants drop, the struggle to get the shoes off. If a shirt came off, I have no idea. I didn’t pay attention to that. What we both wanted existed below the belt.

Even with the lights out, I think the bottle of lube was in sight against the white bedspread. Either way, he found it. With his dick slick, he lined up and systematically pushed his 7” cock up my ass. Now his ass…….at least temporarily. His to use. His to fuck. His to mark.

He did an admirable job with almost no verbal. A few “oh yeahhhh”s as he’d bottom out. He moved me around the bed a few times, me always face down. He did it nonverbally. I know the drill, so I don’t need aural direction.

He knew how to fuck, but he did it for him, not for his partner. I get that a lot. I’m used to it. Conditioned to it even. Rarely do guys ask “does that feel good”. Often I’ll ask if they like my ass, but I know that is my need for validation.

No real lead up to the end. But when it came (ha – pun!) rooms 201 and 100 probably knew it happened, should they have been occupied. Very deep and loud growl. He did come to the end of the bed after he pulled out and told me to clean him off. I knew not to look at anything but his thighs and cock. I didn’t look up. I did as he needed and I wanted. I turned back around, he dressed and was gone.

Not longer, the door opened again. I was still face down. But from the word ‘go’ this guy was substandard. First off, did you know they had black people in Sweden? I mean, I guess it stands to reason, but that place seems SO white. Yet he was a PhD candidate from Sweden. And black. Black as night.

He was maybe 5”. Sigh. I get I buy into the stereotype, but I try not to be a size queen. But with black dudes, I want bigger. There. I said it. And remember this two segments from now.

For a guy getting his PhD, you’d assume he was smart. But no one said he was getting it in anatomy. If he were straight, no woman would claim he ever found their clit. He couldn’t find my asshole without me reaching around and guiding him in. He never tried to find it with his hands before lining up – even after multiple failed tries. Maybe hand to ass is icky for him.

His fucking style was lame. I’m not a load collector – well eventually I am – but I just wanted it to be over, but selfishly I didn’t want to kick him out without getting his white gold. And I did, but his climax was anticlimactic.

He wasn’t happy with me either, let’s be honest. I gave him nothing for him to like me. I hate being a bossy bottom, but c’mon dude – you have to be a functional top.

At least the weekend would be saved by the next two visitors.