That all said, I was in P-town and had every intention of some kind of human interaction. Or sex, as it may be.
In early May, it was still considered off-season, and Covid still is keeping people away. And it was downright chilly - into the low 40s. With things closing at 8p, after dark, the streets were about 94% empty. But that doesn't mean guys still didn't have needs.
Starting off - I don't know how many parts this will have to this series. Some men will get a single entry. Others - might be lumped together. I can almost guarantee you they won't be in order.
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He was in his 60s - I'm guessing. Shaved head. Silver goatee, Tatts. Masculine as fuck. At least in his profile and in our brief exchanges. He'd be over at 3p, he said. He was.
He would look something like this......
He said to be naked. I wasn't. On purpose.
One: the neoprene shorts with the zipper down the back were hot. Two: I liked the idea of him seeing them and eventually opening them to fuck, while they remained on. Part of this would not happen.
He arrived promptly at 3p. I was mostly naked, on all fours, head on the sofa, ass to the door that he'd walk in. He was silent. Sure, I heard the door shut and lock, but nothing else. I don't know if he was undressing, admiring, judging, casing the joint or what.
He stepped forward. Two solid WHACKS on my neoprene'd ass. He told me to take them off. So I did.
He took a seat on the sofa, shirt on, pants off. A good 7" cock in front of me, at eye level.
As most men are, he was a contradiction in terms. In the same two minute time period my eyes should always be making eye contact with him; and then, always be looking at his cock. Either way I'd get hell - though I think he knew that and just wanted to keep a faggot in his place.
That was his whole thing: degrading me; dehumanizing me. I'm not adverse to this line or behavior.
He liked gagging me on his cock. I'm a good cocksucker, so some of the gags might have been for show. A few were actual ones. Those were more about his rapid piston face fucking. Either way, he felt good about himself as I gagged and had spittle. Oh, not that he showed it, but you know...........I think most guys are pleased with themselves on that front.
Of course, I licked his balls, his taint and his pucker too.
I between all of those things he kept asking for water. Cold. No ice. On the third trip I knew what he was up to. But as you've read, I've been experimenting with water sports, so I was ok.
Words like "faggot", "cocksucker", "worthless" flowed from his mouth like a poet. A filthy pirate poet, but a poet nonetheless.
He told me to stop moving my mouth and the piss started. I haven't played with it a lot and when I have it's always been fairly clear. This wasn't. I mean, I couldn't see it, but I could also tell it wasn't running clear. I kind of always assume people hydrate during the day, and as it goes along, their piss gets less and less yellow.
Internally I gagged. Maybe externally too. He asked if I liked it, and that he was told it tasted like buttered popcorn.
Ok - now I like buttered popcorn but the association / connotation at the time, really was off-putting. I had to stop, and thankfully he let me.
I don't like saying 'no', 'stop', 'easier' during sex. So I was disappointed in myself, and it turns out so was he.
There would be no fuck. There would be not actual return to a blow job. He jacked his cock, go close and told me to open up. I did. I caught his cum. I swallowed.
He hastily dressed and left without a word. These things happen, right? They can't all be winners.
2 comments:
Huh. That was a scene. Well, you're right. Men like that? With no flexibility? Sad. And no fun. I love a dom with a sense of humor. :P Well, I'm sure he's used to it. Sounds horribly rigid and not much fun. I like fun. People who take themselves too seriously? That's not fun. Thanks for sharing. Very interesting.
Not so good.
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