The text via Adam4Adam came in as “Hungry?”. My reply: “constantly”. To be clear, my response was not the oversell, just a statement of truth.
He went on about the warehouse in which he works and the privacy. He went on about him wanting his ass eaten and me telling him I’m THE guy for the job. He spoke of getting his cock sucked and taking a belt to my ass. This last part, I won’t lie, intrigued me. We agreed to meet and he didn’t flake.
I had no stats on him, nor did I ask. This wasn’t a beauty pageant. It was me eating ass and getting belted in an alleged empty warehouse at the end of a business day. I was looking for a man to treat me like what I am. I didn’t quite find it.
The door was propped open, like he stated.
The warehouse was just that, but filled with small businesses per floor. I climbed to the top of the stairs and roamed part of the floor until he presented himself to me. Shirt pulled over his head, but not taken off. No pants. No shoes. Semi hard cock. He was lithe. Maybe 5’9”, 150. Maybe late 40s. It didn’t matter. Not really. The cock was not as big as in the pic, so he played with the angle when taking that. That didn’t matter either. Not really.
He presented himself like this after we found each other.
To me, it was an invitation to feast. So I did. I dug my face into his crack and my tongue into his hole. I let that tongue dance inside and outside his hole. He would reach behind and pull my head in deeper. Once or twice he lightly smacked the side of my face. Testing waters? I don’t know.
I had him moaning and quivery. And jacking. I had to stop that last part as even a blind man could see he was getting himself too close and too early on. So I used my mouth on his balls and cock.
Even then, he goes, do you want to load now, or later? I mean, fuck, I’ve been here five minutes. This isn’t a session. I told him not to touch his dick and I’d take care of it later. I went back to his ass. And I stood up and let him spit on my cock. He didn’t do anything with my dick but that’s ok too. That’s not what I was there for. And he’d play with my nipples, but he seemed to have no interest in fucking me.
I went back to his ass, by sitting on the stairs and him bent forward. I went back to the buffet. But too soon he turned around and fed me his cock and tried to fuck my face. He was too close. He had no control. He was weak for someone who talked so dom.
I looked up. Mouth open. But he controlled his cock and it was in his hands, not my mouth. It spewed into my mouth, on my lips, in my stache, on my cheek, on my shirt. As I said, he had no control.
Mind you, being the pig I am, I still sat there feeding his ego and thanking him for this. I mean, I DID want the load…………eventually.
And while I don’t really like being the pushing or instructive bottom, I came there under a different pretense. Was down still on the stairs, him standing above me. I had to tell him to hit me. He did. Kind of. I had to say, “harder”. And then again, with an instruct of “even harder”. He never quite made the connection.
Then I had to mention the belt. As I had already told two buds I was having this done, I couldn’t tell them after the fact that it never occurred. The guy semi-reluctantly took the belt off his short which were somewhere on the floor, but he barely barely barely made contact. “I don’t want anyone in the building to hear”. UGH. So much for an empty warehouse. He tried his hand a few times, but failed to make a solid connection.
I was through. I had a load in my face and mouth. He didn’t ask if I wanted to get off, and it’s ok because I didn’t. Again, not what this was about. I hiked up my own pants, buttoned my dress shirt and left – with that load partially coating my face. I wore it like a badge of honor.
I already had an idea in my head of what was next anyways.