Opening Up

He was visiting from out of town, Phoenix he said.  I'm guessing around 50, 5'11" and 160 or so.

It was a decent body, but not spectacular. His dick was about 6", not thin, but not thick either. But he said he was a total top and that intrigued me.  Doesn't it always?

We chatted for day via Scruff - not extensively, just when we could. He had plans, I had plans, but we finally found a few hours where our free time overlapped.

He kept mentioning how he'd like to "open up my hole".  I'm not dumb, but for the first two or three times, I assumed he meant fucking. But then I realized the word 'fuck' never ever ever came up in the conversations.

Hmmmmm.

He was never clear about 'opening' and what it meant. I could guess, of course. But to be safe, before he arrived I put out the only two toys I have: a 6" thick and ridged buttplug and an 8.5" thick and veined dildo.

Normally, I'm not big on toys. Cold rubber toys are nothing compared to hot flesh real meat-sticks. That and I can't really manipulate them to fuck myself with them - at least not where it feels good, or close to the actual act.

"Ron" said he was big on dirty talk, and he did ok, but again, nothing spectacular. For his pre-talk, I would have though he a master at it, but he was just ok.

We started off with me eating his ass. Because you know I love to and he loves to have it done. It was a good match.  The hole was clean, yet musky. Tight. He claims ONLY a tongue has ever gone up there.

I sucked his cock and licked / sucked his balls too. He wanted me to gag on his cock, but at 6", I didn't see that happening. I mean, I have had some experience.

What Ron was really into was assplay. Fingers. It was hard not to think of South Park and the boy's song, "Fingerbang".

The part that really excited Ron was closely watching my reaction to everything he did to me. His goal was to push my limits, even expand them.  I am ok with that.

It was one finger. Then two.  Two fingers felt like two and a thumb, but he claimed only two were in there. But it was how he curved his knuckles or moves his fingers that made me feel more full.  The way he moved them in a matter of seconds could make me feel full, on the verge or ecstasy or pain.

He liked my responses.  I didn't mind them either.

Normally, I'm not a finger guy.  Most guys are ill-equipped to use their digits to make another guy feel anything but pain. They also never seem to notice their nails and what it does to the lining of an ass. Even if it is under the guise of loosening up a guy before a fuck.

Give me a dick anytime.

Ron reached over and lubed up the butt plug.  It went in easily. Probably too easily, but you know, I've been "active" lately and ready to receive. Still he moved it around that hit lots of nerve endings.  I watched his eyes as he watched everything about my reactions.  He was deep in lust.

After that he went back to fingers. I did notice - and mention - that when he did fingers, he lubed his entire hand. This was not lost on me. Now, it was not lost on him.  Still, he claimed only two fingers were in, but I had no vantage point to actually see. But why would he lie?

Soon, he was lubing up the 8.5" dildo.  With the finger and plug action, I was still surprised how easily it slipped up me.  All of it in less than a minute. Probably less than half of that.

Wow......I'm kind of a slut.  But you've probably already mouthed those words sometime during this post.

That he didn't really fuck me with, but near the end of this part, he did something to cause pain. Not extreme, but it was like he was bending the head of that rubber cock so it was curved against the inside of my ass.  But he couldn't have - right?  First, it doesn't bend easily and secondly, how could he manipulate it to do that when his hands were outside my butt?

When it came out, I was felt extremely empty.  I told him this.

He said how he wanted to fist me.........."next time".  He was leaving for Arizona in a few hours, there would be no "next time".

Maybe it was his ploy to get me to ask him.  To beg him.  And maybe it worked.

I told him to do it. He asked if I was sure.  I nodded.

I have had two other guys get four fingers in me, but not all and not the palm. So it is not like I'm experienced at this. Yes........I was a virgin.  (stop laughing!!!!!)

He was good. Very good. He got his hand in me. Slowly. Methodically. Deliberately.

Yes, he got up to his wrist.  

I've never felt so full.....in a good way. 

Of course, in the back of my mind, I was thinking how horrible this really would stretch me out for others. I was never going to become a fist pig. It's not me or my style. Still, the barrier had been broken, my fisting cherry taken. 

He was intent on watching me close up as he manipulated his fingers and hand. When he finally removed it, the last thing out was his middle finger, which he slowly slowly slowly dragged out of my ass, possibly giving me the best sensation of the day.  And it showed of my face. 

He told me to get on my knees, and though he didn't fist me again, he sunk that dildo back up with immediacy. I took it like a champ in less than half the time I did before.   Whore. 

Ron fingered me again, but no fist. He did this while he jacked himself off and cumming on my face and in my beard. 

That is how Ron gets off.  I'm not sure he ejaculates in guys, but that's his thing. 

So, I can cross another thing off my 'to-do" list. 

What does that leave now?  Double Penetration???

the Plan

The plan was for a 3-way.  Two tops who had previously had their way with me had hooked-up via an on-line app and decided they wanted to tag-team someone.

Somehow I came up.  The other not knowing I had "slept" with the other.  At least until then.

Of course, I agreed and moved scheduled items around to accommodate this arrangement. Both had been good fucks in the past.

But you know how it goes with the best laid plans.  An hour prior to hook-up, the lead guy cancelled. Something about picking up his BF at their airport, as he was coming in from the west coast.  I did the tally, that meant he was taking the red-eye, which means he had to have known this the prior day.  I was thinking it was all a big fake thing.

I saw guy #2 on line later and said, even though guy #1 had to cancel didn't mean we couldn't still do a hook-up. But he said he would have cancelled had the other guy not.

FUCK.

I told both, if you want to do this, fine, but just tell me. I won't initiate.

Guy #1 did contact me a few days later. He apologized and invited me over to fuck 1-on-1. No guy #2.

Normally I'd hem and haw a little but I was horny as fuck. So I prepped and headed out.

"Rick" was exactly how I remembered him from our last fuck a half year ago. His hands on my shoulders, I was directed down to my knees.

He was commando under those nylon shorts, but I went to gnaw on them anyway and get them spit covered. He was semi-stiff when I started, he was rock hard when I hooked my fingers into the elastic and pulled down.

And then I went down.

....and then up....and then down....and then up.  Repeat for 10 minutes in various positions.

"Stand up".  But I didn't hear him. I had to ask him to repeat what he had just said.  "Stand up".

There was no formality to what was about to happen. I was bent over the couch and with my spit as lube, he inserted the head of his cock and about 2 of his 7.5 inches.

Rick has a good thickness too, so he wasn't really wet enough to easily slide in. Yes, we could have done it - and I have in the past, though not with him. But he reached for lube, squirted some on his still impaled shaft and continued his journey.

I forgot how quiet he is. While he's all about the dirty talk on-line, he says nothing in person. No sounds.

But he is good with his cock - which is the only language either of us needed. He did a nice job of not only pulling all the way back, but all the way out and then sinking it all the way back in.  Several times.

The cock felt good. But then, I love cock up my ass. I guess I can see why guys struggle with taking it, but there is a feeling I get with it that I just fucking love.  Some of it is physical, some mental, some maybe even emotional.

But you know tops. They love the feeling of a warm hole wrapped around their shaft, and I gave Rick this.  I even made sure to use those muscle to make him feel even better.  I am not just a lazy bottom in these situations.

Too soon (isn't it always) it was to be over.  Not that I knew it exactly  No sounds. No words. No shallow breath.  But at one point he just buried and held it.  I couldn't feel warmth but felt throbs. Several of them.

At some point he let out a sigh, but that was no longer to signal his impending orgasm. It was just the feeling of his own satisfaction of his sac emptying its fluids into a willing hole.

I pulled up my pants, slipped on my shoes and showed myself out. Along with the 'promise' of doing the tag-team.

We'll see about that.

Married Man - #2

It's been more than a year since I've seen him.

I'd heard from him of course, but either our schedules didn't mesh or I wasn't in the mood for him. He's not horrible, this married man, but he's not stellar.

But "Rick" messaged me via A4A while Married Man #1 was stealthing my hole.

Besides my libido being awakened, I was prepped and ready for Married Man #2.

Mind you - Rick never said he wanted to fuck. The majority of our get togethers had been oral. But the last two had not been and that seemed his interest those two times. I was hopeful of course. I am sure I would have given good head, but my mind wasn't in that space at the moment.

Rick wanted to meet in 90 minutes, which I could have done, but I said, 'how about 30' and he said, 'I'm on my way'.

First off, the man grew a beard, which looked good on him. He's very average looking, and while it shouldn't matter, it was nice that the fur made him stand out more.

He's also is seemingly very straight-laced.  But clearly he is not, as he lets me blow him and then the ends up fucking me.  But even the last 2-3 times, there has been this undercurrent of unseemly behavior.

Not in a bad way, just in a way that seems to harbor his darker desires, or his truer self. Ones he probably has never let actually come to the surface.  They peek through when he's with me.

Admittedly, he had not come in over two weeks. And he told me ahead of time he wanted a repeat of the fuck, not just a blowjob.  He was being up front and I liked that.

He arrived on time and we got down to it.

He likes to fully strip, which is not a requirement for me. This is a quick sex act - and then they leave. Essentials need be exposed. That's it.

I did suck him for a few, but that's it. He said "stand up".  I did and without hesitation, he turned me around and pushed my shoulders down, so I was bent over for him.

No way did I suck him enough to lube him up, so I tossed him some actual bottled lube. Even though I had just been fucked a while earlier, that was a nothing fuck for me. Rick had a more formidable cock than Dr. Honeydew.

As he nudged his cock against my ass, you could get the sense of where Rick's head finally got to: "oh man, that is an eager hole, just wanting my fucking cock."

He's never been so verbal, but not like he screamed it - it was just a statement.

He pushed in and did take him with little problem. If he noticed I had been "violated" a little earlier he said nothing. I don't think he would be the kind of guy to take notice of that anyways.

Like the previous fuck, it wouldn't last long. Though this time I figured that out when he told me how long it had been since he had ejaculated.

The few minutes he fucked me he did it well. Steady pumps - that completely withdrew and then completely bottomed out.  His announcement of ejaculation came way too soon and all of the sudden he was volleying ribbons of scum up my ass.  Ok, I don't know they were ribbons, but it was a big load.

Rick was good about keeping it in and not withdrawing too quickly. He let himself naturally get soft and let nature take its course of the slow slip-out.  You know the feeling, regardless of which end you're on.

I dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth, cleaning him off, tasting him, tasting the last guy, and tasting me.

He said we'd do it again soon, but he said that over a year ago. It'd be nice, but I won't hold my breath.

Married Man - #1

Let's just say, when he came to the door, all I could think of was Dr. Bunsen Honeydew.  Minus the lab coat.

Guys provide stats, but don't provide pics. Sometimes you get what's coming to you - and not in that hot, good way.

Guys can't read either.  No reciprocation, I said.  He tried to suck me off.  Then tried to jack me off.

Prefer non-smokers, I said.  "I'm a heavy smoker, is that a problem?"  Um. Kind of.  And this was after he said he wanted to kiss. I told him that was off the table.  He offered a mint, but then he'd just smell like wint-o-green and smoke. Even less appealing than just cigarettes.

But I made my bed, so to speak - and was about to sleep in it.....so to speak.

Oddly, he didn't smell of cigarettes until he took off his suit. Maybe it was his hands. And one of those hands had a gold band around the ring finger.

He was a quiet sort. Too quiet. I didn't know if I was turning him on or off or if he was just indifferent. His hard cock said he was turned on, but that was the only give away.

The ad was for a blowjob, but as they do sometimes, things change.

He stood me up and bent me over a counter. I had not slobbered a ton on his cock, because I didn't know this was coming. But he lined himself up.

I took a wad of my own spit, coated his cock and guided him to my hole.

Most married guys are usually pretty good at fucking. This guy was a novice, despite him being in his upper 40s. He had no good technique.

As I was facing away from him, I kind of smiled to myself when he gave me the 4-1-1 that "I never bareback.......this is my first time."

Mind you, I didn't ask to be fuck. His idea, but not only did he not just take the lead (though, I wouldn't say aggressively) he brought no, nor asked for a, condom.

"You are married, right?"

Because, if we know anything, it is that all married men are good for barebacking because they pose no risk.

He might wear a suit and be age appropriate, but he's not winning any medical advancement prizes anytime soon.

The fuck didn't last long.  Less than 10 minutes.

I could feel him stiffen and throb. I won't say I felt the cum or the warmth, but I knew what he was doing. He seemed to think I was on his level of intelligence though.

He pulls out.  "Sorry - I'm really nervous.  I was on the verge, but I just can't get there. I won't be able to cum.".

His other tricks may have just fallen off the turnip truck, but I didn't.

But I let him have his moment. No need getting him all flustered and I wasn't going to call him a liar anyways. If it was his stealthing fantasy, so be it.

We got dressed and parted.

I do not foresee another go-around with this guy.

Gloryhole Service

I have mentioned before that gloryholes are (or can be) the great equalizer.

Back in the olden days when gloryholes were public, the holes were generally big enough for a cock to go through and nothing else. If done correctly  - meaning that either person didn't really look through other than at the cock - anonymity could still be achieved.

The person on the other side could be 17 or 70.  But to the eater on the other side, it was just cock.

I laugh / cringe at ads on any site who advertises their home gloryhole and then asks for pics and stats before you come over. They truly do not get what the glorhole is all about.

And the home gloryholes are usually subpar. I've been to places where it is a hole cut in a sheet that is taped to a doorway.  But recently I found one that was almost expertly crafted.

Good woodwork. A smooth hole that was dremeled out. Even a carving at the base so feet could go under so one could get closer to the door / hole.  This is important and like a stall one of yore - if my readership remembers those public john service stations.

The handles could have been higher for me because that's how I like them. And the hole was too large for me, because it provided less privacy. But I get that not everyone is the same height and needs access one way or the other, so this guy was doing what he can.

But gloryholes do something else - at least for me:  they can make you anything you want to be.

No sights, no expectation, no preconceived notions for the person on either side of the door.

You know I'm 99.6% bottom.  Yet recently a gloryhole changed me horniness up quite a few notches.

I'm not even sure why I went, since I tend to suck and take it up the rear. But I had not gotten off in weeks - in any way, shape or form. And I didn't want to waste it with my fist.

He lived in the upper half of a duplex. I walked in and up the stairs. At the top you see the GH.  I unzipped and stuck my cock through. And waited. He wasn't right there, but somewhere in the house. I opted to stick it there and just wait till he saw it. He did.

The guy gave expert head. He knew his shit. I let him suck, but those handles let me grab hold to really pump his face - as much as one can against a sturdy piece of wood. I also saw him trying to look through and up at me, to see who was feeding him. I told him not to. But I know he kept attempting.

I only lasted maybe 10 minutes...or slightly longer. It was a big load, but I'll give him this, he took it. He gagged once, but most guys who claim they can handle it will cough it up.  Not this guy.

I did a second visit a few weeks later.  The mouth was just as awesome. But I said loud enough - 'someday I'd like to fuck your ass'.

You know I'm not a top, but I was rock hard and here anything seemed possible.

Without hesitation he stood up and backed his ass to the hole. With my spit as lube, I just slid into the guy. Clearly this wasn't his first time.  Maybe not even first time today.

Unlike most times I fuck, staying hard was not an issue. I was solid.

Again, using the handles, I was able to gain some leverage when it came to really putting it to the guy. The door is a real sound barrier. I could barely his moans and requests. He couldn't hear mine either. But it was cock to ass - in and out, over and over.

It's me, so I didn't last long. More than 5 minutes, less then 10.  But to be fair, he wanted me to get off and was milking his hole. On purpose. Trying to push me over the edge.  And it worked.  I dumped a two week load in his ass.

After that, the guy hounded me by email to return.

Truth be told, it was kind of nice to be wanted for my dick, though deep down, I knew I'd rather be taking it.  But he wouldn't give up and he made me swell with pride. And at one point he caught me at a weak moment - so I returned.

I crawled up the steps but this time he was more timely in getting to the door. Still trying to catch a peek of me, he was on his knees expertly sucking me.  Soon enough his ass was up.

My fucking style started fine. The man can easily take a big cock up his ass, but wasn't loose, but clearly he's had lots and lots of practice.

But the old me returned. Keeping it hard was a chore. I'm not truly built to top. He even put a cockring on me to get me back to a place where he could get me to finish.

I also whipped out my phone. It's dark. It's crude. But I took video. While the video is over 4 minutes long, honestly, I fucked him longer, just didn't film it all.

Next time, I'd rather it be someone videoing me taking it up the ass than giving it.

But for that moment, the gloryhole made me a different person.  But just for a moment.

Massage

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Aesthetics. Pleasure. Power.

He had a great cock.  Potentially one of the best dicks I'd ever had the pleasure to know.

Thick. Almost 8" long. A droop from the base and a slight curve upward when you got close to the head.  This pic does not do it justice.

It didn't hurt that it was attached to a man who was fucking gorgeous.

A great face, bearded, dark hair on his head, great glasses. Standing 6'5" and clearly someone who takes physical activity seriously.  And married.

I had answered his CL ad. He got back to me right away, but we played email tag for weeks. Literally.

I'm not saying he was a flake or even a tease, but time management wasn't great. I would go out of my way to make myself available only to get a cancellation. But he was always engaged. I'm not sure how he wrote his ad, but there were no images, nor did I ask for any. But I was intrigued to say the least.

We finally nailed down a time as he texted me where he was in his approach. He seemed invested.

He even drove up the drive with determination. Nothing timid about him.

As he walked up to the door he was grabbing his own crotch, aggressively, through his well tailored suit.  He was ready. I was too.

He just stood there, waiting. I was happy to help him out.  I rubbed his cock through his suit pants, feeling them fill out even more.  A man in a suit is so extraordinarily hot to me, I can't really accurately describe it.

But I think his aggressive nature, his suits, even how he drove spoke a lot about him. Aesthetics is important to him. Pleasure is important to him. Power is important to him.  And he needs to see those things.

Me on my knees, unzipping his fly brings all those into alignment. My mouth enveloping his fucking rock hard cock does too.

He was verbal too. More compliments than dirty talk, but it was our first time. I could totally see (or at least wish) that he'd get down and dirty in his verbal skills. I know he has it in him.

I loved feeling his hand on the back of my head, guiding me. I feel I need no assistance, but I love when a guy is in control.  I loved feeling his pubes on my lips, knowing, even with the curve, I took him to the root.  I liked hear him telling me to 'deepthroat me'.  And of course, I did.

During the blowjob, he kept reiterating how he'd be back - how he wanted more.

Men of power, aesthetics and pleasure are that way.  They know what they want, and go after it. When they get it, they keep control of it until they find better.

We discussed before he arrived what he was looking for. He asked where I wanted the load, and even though I wanted it in my mouth, I am smart enough not to say that to a man like this.

"That is not my decision" was my reply.  "It's wherever you want it".

I'm not being flip or smug - it's the fucking truth. When you are the one to go to your knees (or on your back) for a dominant guy, he calls the shots, including what he does with his load.

"Near the end, I want you to stroke my cock so I can shoot on your face".

It's about power.  It's about control. It's about the pleasure of him seeing his manhood shoot the seed of life - his seed.  He gets the pleasure of feeling the orgasm. He gets the pleasure of seeing the control he has over me - me doing what he requests.  He gets to see the power - his actual babymakers, as they coat my face.

The first jet was powerful. His moan was too. It went up my left cheek.

A few weaker shots hit my tongue, my beard and between my lip and nose.

Unexpectedly at that point, the most powerful jet shot out. Over my nose, up my right cheek and even into my eye.  I knew that eye part was eventually going to hurt (and it did).

But afterwards, he let me worship that cock. He let me clean it off.  He let me take it and roll it in his own cum on my face - both sides - and then let me stick it back in my mouth. I wasted barely a drop.

Then he had me clean him up so he could leave.  He'd gotten what he came for.

I have no doubt I will see him again.

Curved

He had a great cock.

"Dick" replied to my ad asking guy to 'flood my mouth'. It took a while for him to get it together, but would later come to find he was a working man - with his hands - and probably not all that tech savvy on navigating email. Especially CL ad responses / replies that always seem to end up in my junk mail.

When he arrived it was chilly but not cold, though he may have been working in conditions with little to no heat. He apologized for not being 'big' at the moment he walked in the door. I told him it was my job to get it big. He liked that.

Dick was tall - maybe 6'5". Slim, but not skinny. Grey hair and facial hair that made him look like a younger Col. Sanders. It worked on him somehow.

I rubbed his denim covered crotch to get him to grow.  Then I dropped those and rubbed his boxer briefs. He was responding.  Soon my mouth was down there, putting warm breath through the cotton blend.

Pulling down his boxers, it was nice to look at.  7.5", but like the rest of him, slim, but not skinny. Big fucking head and it seemed to weigh down the shaft, but in reality he just had a hefty downward curve.

He had a great cock.

So I went to work.

He wasn't sure what to make of the blowjob. I mean, he liked it - clearly - but he claims that I was only his third blow job and first from a guy.

Maybe this was true, but I always assume it is not. He was 55. How does a man get to that age with only 2 other blowjobs under his belt?

I decided to show him what a great one felt like - so he'd have it as a frame of reference.

Being that it was his first real one (I'm saying that - not him), I thought he might lose his load sooner than later, but he didn't. I worshipped and treated his cock like a pro for well over a half hour.

Sometimes his eyes would be closed.  At times his head would be thrown back.

My favorite times is when he'd be watching his cock disappear into my mouth. He enjoyed that too.

"That looks fucking good".  He later confirmed he liked watching his cock go into my mouth or rub on my beard.  Truth be told - I like being watched by them.

I like seeing lust in their eyes, more at what they're doing than who is doing it. I like them relating, even for a second, that there is a guy on his fucking knees giving them pleasure.  I like them knowing a guy is sucking their fucking cock.

Truth be told, the curve was impeding my ability to give him great head. I was doing a good job and even a great one from his perspective, but I knew I could do SO much better.

He was game for me lying back with my head hanging back. It left for a good angle for his cock to slide right down my fucking throat.

And for a guy who hasn't gotten head much, he knew how to pound face - at least in that position. Of course porn movies have taught us a lot, I suppose. But he seemed super skilled at how to feed.

He teetered on the word "cocksucker", but couldn't quite get it out of his mouth. If he was a newbie, then I get that - he is not sure where the line is, though I tried to show him how far he could go with me verbally.

I'd say we were about 30 minutes in before he lost his load - and with very little warning to me. Not that I cared.

It was a decent sized, but not huge. It was ok tasting but had hints of bitterness - but that wasn't important either.

He claims he'll come back. I'd be happy to have him return.  I'll get it right so he understand what he's been missing.

Black Breeding

He came back - a few times.  The 9+" black man who was looking for a guy like me.

Still no name, still no email, still no phone number.  But when I got "No Caller ID" on my phone, it was almost always him.

Once he had me suck him.  Once he had me eat his ass out while he slowly jacked then shot in my mouth.

Still claiming to be safe, this time, he had me show off for him. Rub my ass hole, show him my legs. He did not want to see my dick.

I should mention that he has never mentioned it - let alone touched it. This isn't his deal.

When he says he fucks women, he does and not one of those lame guys trying to pass as straight getting off on some fantasy or trying to help you get off on that fantasy. I was (and am?) all about convenience to this guy.

Maybe it's three calls in as many days. Maybe it's a week or two until he needs the outlet.

Sure, I had taken his cock in my mouth this time. I even just touched the tip of my tongue on his head as it peaked out of his boxer briefs that could not contain its size.  I sucked him, and I sucked him good - but not great.  That is my evaluation, not his.

"Roll over", he calmly commanded.

I was on the bed, on my belly.

Once again he used his rock hard dick to slap my ass.

"You want this".  Again - calmly said, but not in question form.

More cock / ass slapping. Then the lean in.  Then the touching of the cock head to my crack.....and then more localized pressure.

Pressure gave way to blossoming.  Two inches or so had gained entrance.  There would be more - we both knew it. But timing wasn't up to me.

I was on my belly, him over me, but not quite 'on top' of me. He still had 7" to work with that was outside my ass.  He made quicker work of getting it in there - and up there - than I might have liked, but I'm adaptable. I have to be. Not that there was a choice.

There were more grunts and moans from my end then words. There were almost no words from his end, except maybe, "put your legs together".

I suspect that was to not only keep him in me, but to treat me like a random fuck - probably a girl - that he could just pump without worrying about who was there.

He ignored my strong groans, the ones you could tell bordered on discomfort. I knew enough not to say anything, because from previous experience, be it my mouth or ass, he wasn't at all concerned.

This went on for another 10 minutes and I heard a catch at the back of his throat.

"What is going on?" I asked.   "You know exactly what's going on" was the reply.

For a guy last time who wanted to be nothing but "safe", here he was unloading. All bets were off now. This would define what I was to him.  Or clarify it.  It was unsaid, but we both knew.

Go & Cum & Go

A while a go, a friend of mine told me, after I slept with one or two black guys, that a signal has gone up and now only black guys will be contacting me.  Honestly, he called it the 'black stink' - but not in a bad way.

While white guys have not disappeared, there does seem to be an increase in the number of black men interested in hooking up with me. Maybe they have a listserve that gets the word out about the white cocksuckers who like black dick.

So a guy emailed me from a long ago placed ad wanting to know if I was free. I would be, I said - which corresponded with him finishing his gym work out.

His stats were nice.  His body was nicer

He said he'd be by after he showered. I told him not to bother - as I liked the smell and taste of a guy who had just worked out.  He said he would really really need to shower as he was rank, so I caved. 

But a few minutes later he said he was on his way and skipped his shower.  Fuckin' A. 

It was freezing out but there he was in shorts and a t shirt. We got right down to it. 

Unfortunately it was all oral. Don't get me wrong, I love sucking cock - LOVE IT - but this guy I'd have loved to have up my ass. But at this time, it was not what he was looking for. 

The man's shorts and shirt were soaked with sweat. His workout had gone well as he had soaked through his t-shirt and his underwear and his shorts. Before him taking them off, I made sure to smell them.....sniff deep.  Lick them too.  

I don't know what he thought of me doing this - or if he knew what to make of it all. I didn't really care. 

I was down on my knees, sniffing his crotch and slowly pulling down his shorts and briefs. His cock was nice and hard and very dark. Don't ask me why, but on black guys, I do prefer darker skin. His balls were shaved or at least smooth. 

The cock went into my mouth and I fucking savored it. Tasting the flesh. Tasting the musk. Getting it wet, making the dark skin darker with my saliva. It's a good test marker for the feeder to see how far an eater like myself is getting down on his disk. 

I took it all the way. 

After a bit, he sat in a chair and directed my head up and down at the pace he desired. I like to think I know what I'm doing, but each guy is different on what he likes and how he approaches an encounter like this. If he felt more in control this way - let him have it. He's the boss. 

Soon he was sitting back on a bed and I was still on my knees. I went to his balls, which he spread his legs for me to get to. They were smaller than you'd think, but tasted of a gym workout. I tested the waters and went further south. He was receptive for a minute but then didn't want his hole eaten. 

I SO wanted to dive into that and clean it out, especially since he hadn't showered after the gym. It's the taste of a real man. 

As I went back to his cock for some deep throat action, him laying back, he talked about how he'd like to fuck me sometime. That got my cocksucking skills a little more excited. I milked his cock with my mouth and throat. 

He held my head tight. He pumped and I dove and bobbed. We had a good synchronization of feeder and eater skills going on. 

He then held my head real tight and said, "you're gonna make me piss".   

I thought, "huh?"  I had never really experienced this while in the middle of giving head. Sometimes at the end - even a time or two right at the beginning, but not in the high point of a blowjob.  

But piss he did. Not a lot, but not a little either. His cock was far into my mouth and you know, we were in a nice room where I didn't want piss all over, so I took it. Every drop. 

He went back to pumping my throat after that and I'd say within 90 seconds he was now unloading another bodily fluid into my mouth.  Sweet. Hot. Semen. 

I took every drop of that too. 

He was kind of turned on and a little freaked out at what he had just done - or what I had just done. Mainly the piss thing. I'm not sure he was expecting to need to piss or that a white cocksucker would drink it. But I did. 

He got back into his damp, smelly clothes and I followed him to the door. With me right behind him, I reached around and played with his crotch. He wasn't soft. He didn't stop me. 

I told him how great his cock was and I swear it got harder.  Guys love hearing how great their cock is. 

He said if I keep that up, I'm getting a second round. I told him he could bend me right over the kitchen counter and give it to me. 

"You'll do anything I say".  

I said. That didn't sound like a question. He replied that it wasn't one.  But he had to go. I had to let him. 

He said I would hear from him. I hope I do. 

Been A While

He'd been out of town for a bit, and I'd been traveling too.

It had been months since I've played at his place - either in his bed or in his sling.  I think September was our last opportunity.

We have a deep bond, that goes beyond mere trick, but not quite deep enough to be more than that at the same time. We chat - in person and text -, we kiss, we joke, we fuck.

More importantly, HE fucks. Me.

When it comes down to it, he slides his 7" dick up my ass and fucks me in all kinds of positions.

The man knows what to do with his cock like few others I've experienced. Maybe it's because he flip fucks. I mean, not so much with me, but he does take what he gives. That's admirable in a guy.

I'm not as admirable, if those are the rules of engagement.

I went by his place and his door was open of me. I secured it shut. While guys walking in and joining in could be hot, it would not be - at least in this neighborhood.

He greeted me with a great mouth lock, and his hand taking me immediately back to his bedroom. Little foreplay, some chatter as we both took off our clothes. No pretense as to what I was here for. Or what he wanted from me. Or me from him, for that matter.

I sucked him a little. He ate my hole a little. But that 7" had somewhere to be - and I wanted it.

The guy can fuck. Nice and easy, hard and rough and all in between. He can pummel my ass where it actually feels good for both of us. Though something might be said about my ass being able to take dick after all this time without the look of being on the verge of pain.

I welcomed the face down  on the bed position. That was after I was on my back, on all fours at the edge of the bed and bent over the bed. It is me being face down he does his best work - and that's saying something.

The feel of him popping into my hole and the immediate sinking all the way in. Bottoming out.

With him there is not 'wait....let me get used to it' scenario.  He's there to fuck. But I know that going in (though he's the one going in).  I want him to feel the pleasure. He wants to feel it too. He might want me to feel pleasure to - not that he asks. But he knows, he almost has to.

I kind of make noise. Lots of sounds. Grunts. Groans. Half-words, even.....and none of them are 'no' or 'stop' or 'hold on a minute'.  So he keeps plugging away.

As I've said in other posts, this is not a fuck for the novice. While there might be breaks here and there, mostly for position changes, these are generally 60-90 minute sessions. This was no different.

We ended up with me riding his dick. With my stroking mine.

You've read here most of the time I don't come during sex. Most of the times I don't want to. Most of the times they don't want me to.

He does. And even if I had a thing against it, this guy earns it. The fuck he delivers, if he wants me to see me shoot my load on him, it's the fucking least I can do.  Literally.

He likes the way I shoot - in volume, in velocity, in intensity.  Of course, he made me laugh right when I was at the edge and he said, "don't get ANY on my sheets".

With his orgasm and mine and my laughing  - and jerking motion - well, the first shot went over his head onto his pillow case. Most went on him, and a few went off to the side on to his sheet.

But to be fair, none of his cum got on his sheets. I don't know what happened to it. It all disappeared.

Bearded Top

He had one of those beards you'd see on Duck Dynasty.  Long. Scraggly. Unkempt.

You don't expect it to be soft as it is. You don't expect it to be soft at all.

The guy was handsome and dare I say, would be extremely so, if he trimmed the beard. But I get he digs it and the growth certainly wasn't a turn-off for me. I mean, here I was, at his loft. After dark. Both of us with impure thoughts and aspirations.

He opened the door and I smelled pot breath immediately. No worries - while it's not my thing, it was not overdone and it didn't seem like it would get in the way of anything we'd be doing.

There was no playing around and little getting to know each other. We got right down to it.

We both stripped and I was put on my knees. Sucking cock was about our only foreplay.

"Mike" is more versatile than I would have thought - or wanted, but we both knew why I was there that evening.

My sucking him was merely a brief introduction. In a minute I wast bent over the back of the couch that was right near the entryway.  With a hit of poppers for both of us, he pushed his way up my ass.  His dick wasn't large, about 6.5", but he knew how to use it, as he was very skilled.

Mike wasn't going to be one of these fast in and outs and then show me the door. We played for almost two hours. Within the main room of his loft, I was on just about ever surface.

Over a chair. Over that couch. On the couch.  Bent over the couch from the front - kneeling on it hanging over the back.  My back on the ottoman.  My stomach on the same ottoman, and then kneeling on it.

It shouldn't be overlooked that we used the floor too - on my knees, on my stomach, on his back with me riding him. Though I also rode that pole of flesh while sitting on his lap in that chair and on the couch.

His 6.5" never lost too much hardness, though there were times we took a few minutes to recover between positions. I would eat his ass, or he would eat mine. I sucked him a few times, but he was more ass focused than wanting oral attention on his pole.

Near the end we were slightly on a time line, as he did want me out of there before his partner came home. Whether the partner knew I was there or not was unclear - nor did I care (unless he did come home and would be super upset - and bigger than me).

We did end the meeting with me over the ottoman, just being hammered.  I've said it before, will say it now and no doubt will say it again:  I love that line the fuck where the guy on top crosses where he doesn't know (or care) who is under him. We cease to be a person and more of a destination.  Maybe it even goes past being a hole.

Yes, the hole will take the cock.  Yes, the hole will take the load.  But the brain snaps a bit and all it can see it white light at the end where all they want to do is shoot.

...and I'm fucking ok with that.

Afterwards, he was appreciative and even wanted to see me get off, though I declined. It's a nice gesture, but we both knew why I was there and there is no need to feel the need to do 'something' for me - even if it's watching me jack.

Hopefully I'll get another invite.

Black For More

The big black cock came back the next day.  Just like I said - he called the next day, asked if I knew who it was and wanted another meet-up.

He has 9+", who the fuck was I to say "no"?

This time I was ready with the lube, the poppers and the plug. I wasn't assuming we'd do the same thing, but better to be ready than scramble at the last minute.

He walked in like he owned the place. He was familiar now. With me. With the space. Though in reality he wasn't that familiar, he had the confidence to act like he did.  That's just as important.

All his clothes came off this time, except his hat, glasses and chains around his neck. Don't ask me why, but I hope he never takes off those - they make him look hot and confident in that way.

That big black stick was shaking in the wind. Hanging there so long, so heavy. Waiting to fill up with blood so it could become rigid.

Of course I helped him along.

I knelt and took that massive pole in my hand. Even soft, he was bigger than most guys are when erect - in length and girth.  He responded to the touch - as he started thickening and straightening. He grew to full size as it went into my mouth.

"Girls find it easier to take if their heads hang off the bed", he said. The implication was clear.

Soon, I was taking it all the way down, but not without a struggle. Not without my air being cut off by that massive black rod. My eyes watering. Me wanting to gasp for breath.  You could see the twinkle in his eyes when he'd get that reaction.

"You like it rough".

It wasn't a question.

He plugged my face for several more minutes, always allowing me to catch my breath at what was seemingly the last possible second.

He had me scoot back on the bed and then knelt next to me. More feeding. And like last time, the creep of his body until his ass was over my face.  I ate it. No words. No question.

The guy (still no name) told me to insert the butt plug again. I did. He stood there between my legs, again, and watched.

"You want fucked.  Got a rubber?", he said and asked.  I did want and did not have.  "I only fuck safe.".   Fair enough.

He still had me push that plug in and pull it out.

"Roll over".   I did.  On my belly.

He didn't put it in me, but started rubbing that dark meat at my hole.  Then he slapped my hole with it. I could feel the heat emanating from his flesh.  He'd stroke his dick between hitting me with it. Touching me with it.

He also, I found out, was applying some lube to it as well, for his stroking. And slapping.

And apparently, inserting. As with one thrust, he buried his bare black cock halfway up my ass.  So much for "only safe".

No lies - it hurt. He's big He is HUGE.  It hurt.

I caught my breath. I grimaced, not that he could see my face. I'm sure the tension in my body said it all.

"You said you liked it rough".  Whether I did nor did not, his statement before wasn't a question, so I didn't reply with a yes or no. I guess my lack of response was a yes.

I did not ask for 'slow down' or 'easy', as I knew that would be futile on my part. This wasn't a man for compromise or negotiation.  I've learned a few things over my years.

His hands were on either side of my torso, supporting himself for his fuck.

HIS fuck.  Not mine.  Not ours.  This was his and his alone. It is doubtful this was the first fuck he'd delivered like that - to man or woman.  He was too skilled at what he was doing.

"Reach back and pull your cheeks apart".  I did. No questions.

He pulled out saying he couldn't cum in me. Then proceeded to squirt his load onto my hole. After that he pushed it in with his cock.

This is a hot movie technique for sure, but for his 'safe' issues and not wanting to cum in me, I'm not sure of the purpose. He still had his raw cock in me, he still delivered his load.  Either way, I got it all.

No words exchanged as he went to clean up.  A few words exchanged on the way out the door and that was it.

He called two days later.

Have the Lambs Stopped Crying Clarice?

Now and again, one might get themselves into situations they'd rather be free from - literally and figuratively.

The guys on-line who are flaky, scary, annoying and just dicks are one thing. There is usually a block feature for those. It is the seemingly normal ones you don't know are freaks until you're with them.

I had been chatting with a guy on Recon. I mention the site because that site does tend to have an edgier client base.  I'm ok with that. Edgy is fine. Perverted is fine. Psychotic, is not.

His profile seemed normal. Our chat seemed normal. Though he told me if there was anything I wanted to party with, I had to bring it.  I clarified I do NOT party and if he did that was fine, but it's not my scene. He claimed he does not party - or not during work days.  That should have been my red flag, but I ignored it.

He wanted to be worshipped. I can deal with that in a masculine man too. His pictures looked more than decent. I opted to travel.

The house he claims was "a nice one" might have been after Jeffrey Dahmer had fallen on hard times. On the outside it was fine, on the inside, well...........it was dark. It was cold. He certainly rarely picked up after himself.

Mind you - what I'm writing is all in retrospect, so my thoughts going in versus while there versus after the fact won't be consistent. My final memories are going to prevail. So when you think of why I was there, try to think of the before.  ..even the during.

He greeted me at the door, in what would be an elaborate wearing of several pairs of underwear.  Tight boxer briefs, compression shorts, a wrestler singlet and a thong. He told me of his fetish, but I never imagined multiple pairs at a time.

"Grab my bulge". I did. It felt nice and firm. Of course at this point I still don't know about the padding of multiple layers.

It was a series of stand up, kneel, touch this, touch that.  Yes Sir. No Sir. Thank you Sir kind of things.

Done right, this can be a hot scenario. Done wrong, it can be icky.  Done creepy, it can be threatening - at least on some levels.  It was a combination of the last two.

Curtains were drawn, I was stripped down.  Soon, I had shackles on my wrist. And while I think he thought they were secure, a blind, deaf and mute Houdini could have gotten out of them if needed.

The man liked to be close. But the man was not like his pictures - maybe at one time. But for his not being a drug user (at least on weekends), something about him reeked of meth - and not just his complex chronic halitosis.  ...there was nothing simple about that.

He was hoping at some point that I would be his 'boy'.  His 'slave'.  He even walked me through his kitchen and said, 'when'  (not if) you are my boy, you'll be doing my dishes.  Dishes that clearly had not been done for weeks. Tons of them, stacked -  and he allegedly lived alone. I half expected to see cockroaches.

I might be a sub guy, but I'm not slave material. My backbone is far too strong to bend that way. Clearly he thought otherwise.

He talked about how he'd like to shave every hair off my body. He tried to talk down to me - and I let him think he was, but he didn't have the skill for it. Not like the think he did.

This man was all about ill conceived notions of himself - that he was smarter, better looking and more dominant than he was.

IF he could have gotten hard, he would have had a beautiful cock. But he couldn't get hard - or keep hard. Maybe I wasn't a turn on to him (I hope I wasn't). But I'm going back to that he was a meth user and those fuckers just can't do anything with their dicks when they're high.

But back to the talking down to - a good dom man can do it and cut to the quick. He can make you feel degraded while giving you a hard-on at the same time.

He said he was tough as nails and nothing I could say or do would ever bother him.

And while this guy's words were mean - to and about me - they weren't resonating within me.  "You're a loser - no one will ever love you".   Then he asked me if I ever had suicidal thoughts - and if so, how he'd like to show me how to cut myself with a razor blade so there'd be no saving me.  ...and how messy it would be....and how he'd want to see the mess.

It was then I planned my departure / escape. I'd been thinking about it anyways, but now I had to enact it.

I slipped into the conversation that a "good boy" always leaves notes where he is going, especially if he doesn't know his host.  I also mentioned having to be somewhere at a certain time, which was coming up just about......now.

This threw him off guard enough to start to look for his phone in the mess that was his house. I offered to help. That got me out of the restraints by him, so I could let him feel in control.  I said I'd get my phone to call his so it'd ring.  But instead I got my pants and shirt on and slipped on my shoes without tying them.

With my phone in my back pocket, I told him I left it in the car...and I had to be going anyways.

The man still had MY underwear - don't ask - and I told him to keep it. He said he planned to anyways.

I made a beeline for the car and got the fuck out of there.

I wasn't three miles away when he messaged me on Recon when I'd be coming back.  I was driving, but thought about spelling out NEVER. I just kept driving.

Telling this story to a sex-like buddy, he confirmed I put myself in harms way. And going forward, we would use each other for providing locations of where we are going.....you  know......in case.

To get one jab in to this loser - I did message him back, since he said nothing I could say or do would hurt him. I told him he needed to stop doing met and see a dentist and periodontist immediately, as his breath was like death.

Oddly, I didn't get a response.

So, this is my cautionary tale.  Or as it was put to me, my 'cautionary tail'.   ...though this guy didn't get near my tail.

Repeat Offender

"Let me look at the pussy that I'm going to eat".

So said the man with the magic tongue.

Another cold night. Another itch at my hole that I needed licked.  And scratched.  Of course by 'scratched', I mean fucked.  Hard.

But for now, I was on the back of his bed, my legs spread and pulled back. Exposing my hairy pucker for the man who was just standing there - looking. Admiring. Waiting. Contemplating.

Then he went to his knees, his face in front of that hole. My hole. His hole....at and for the moment.

His magic was still apparent. The second go-around was just as intense as that first time. That tongue - and maybe just a light brushing of fingers?  - was fucking beautiful to my ass.  His ass - for the moment. He was the maestro. I was his instrument.   ....though he would use his baton on me shortly.

I think he was down there for 10 minutes. I would have been happy if I didn't get fucked (ok - that might be a lie) and he just stayed down there for my entire visit.

I have never known such oral pleasure as this. At least on the receiving end.

But we both know I liked that eating out, but that's not what I was there for. That's not what he invited me over for.

He had 7.5" that needed taken care of, and not with my mouth.

No - he wanted hole. My hole. My ass.

While he lubed himself up, he slowly and deliberately stroked his cock hard.

"Play with yourself for me".  I went to reach for my dick and he said. "no........down there....."

Like a 16 yo girl in the back seat of the quarterback's car, I took two fingers and rubber them over my asshole. I teased the hole, the lips. I rubbed it as if I had a clit.  All the while looking right at him as he looked right at my hand / ass action.

He was bone hard now.

He stepped closer.  No words, I moved my hand. He pushed in....one deep hard push, right to the bottom.

I groaned, naturally. I mean, I was being filled up with a decent sized cock - and all at once. But it was a good groan. It was a good way to be filled - a right way. He'd been here before, he knew what he could do, or better yet, what he thought he could do.

He went right away to pumping. There was no rest for me. No acclimation period. He wanted to fuck and he was going to.  But I wanted to be fucked, so it worked out for both of us.

The guy is good with his dick. Not quite as good as he is with his tongue, but those are two very different instruments.  Yet, he's skilled - whether he cared if I liked it or not.

He seems to care about if I'm enjoying myself, until, well you know, he gets closer to cumming. Then just like every other guy in the history of man, it is all about himself.  And I am TOTALLY on board with that.

I'd say the fuck lasted 15 minutes. Me on my back the entire time as he sawed in and out of me. I loved seeing his face as he got close.  There was that look for fighting the impending orgasm or just letting it go and finishing.

The finishing won out.  He buried his bone and let loose his hot load up my ass.

It was a good go-round. I just need go get over there again.  He has me won over with that tongue of his.

...and his cock.

Fattest Cock Ever.

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Hung. Black. Anonymous.

I don't know his name.  I don't have his email.  I don't know his phone number.  I know what kind of car he drives, only because I've seen it pull up and park on the street outside the house.

But he answered a CL ad I placed. He called me,  but through a blocked line. We've never exchanged introductions.  Just body fluids.  And to clarify - he's exchanged those into me, not the other way around.

He's not ugly, but not handsome either. He's about 5'9", 180 with a slight belly. I like it when he keeps his slightly tinted glasses on and his hat. When I asked on the phone what his cock was like, he laughed a bit and said, "it's nice enough".

But he's hung. Massively hung.  And thick.

That is him after he had already cum.....and went soft.

He showed up on time, which you wouldn't think is such a big deal, but to me it is. I hate waiting around for guys who claim they're "on the way".   He comes in takes off his shoes and strips off his coat and pants, and nothing more.  Well, his underwear.

He wasn't this "small" when he took off his pants, as he was  - or his cock was - in the stages of being excited. As was I.

As it would turn out he has this way of being nice, but being dirty at the same time.  It's hard to explain. Perhaps it's they way he'd lightly chuckle at things he'd say or that I'd say or do. He say things nicely, but if you thought about it, they were not questions but more of commands or statement of facts. Cutting to your core in certain ways.  It was kind of hot.

"You like to suck cock".

Normally, I'd answer with a "yes Sir", but this didn't warrant an answer. He was telling me. He knew.

Of course, I had a 9.5" fat fucking black cock almost all the way down my throat - he could have just been stating the obvious. He wasn't going out on any limbs exactly, and it was clear this wasn't my first time with a dick in my mouth.

But when I'd come up for air, it was hard not to just handle it, look at it, admire it.  The penis really is a great work of art - and some are clearly better than others.

I told him he undersold himself with the "nice enough" comment - and he replied, "did I lie?"  He did not.

But he wanted to see me stick something in my ass.  I had to find a butt plug, which then I greased it up and slid it in as he watched from behind.  He had me do it while I was on my knees facing away from him. I think he liked the show.

It was a plug and not a dildo, so it was harder to fuck myself with it, though I did....because he wanted me to.

I was to keep that plug in while I sucked him too.  On my knees.  And then laying back on the bed with him kneeling over me.

As you might expect, he move up a little...so soon his balls were at my nose....than at my mouth.  And then it was his ass.

He didn't ask. He's not the kind to ask. He expects.  Silent assumptions.

I dove in.  To me, it was clear he had just come from work, but his ass was fresh. I ate it like a pro...not just because I wanted him to like it, but because I love eating ass.

He isn't one to moan or tell you it feels good what you're doing. But he was rock hard and stroking, so I took that as a sign I was doing my job well.

He back up again and shoved his cock down my throat and gave it a dozen pumps before I felt the hot seed sliding over my tongue and down my throat.  At that angle, it was impossible not to go down into my belly, but it is not like it wasn't going to end up there anyways.

He pulled out, stood up and looked back at me, admiring his work, I suppose.

He put on his pants, and shoes and headed to the door.

"When I call and say 'you know who this is', you'll know who it is, right?"    I confirmed.

He called the next day.

A Man Possessed

After I did that photo shoot a few weeks back, I had only made it to my car before getting hit up by a fuzzy bearish guy three miles away.

I'd seen him on certain apps and he was ok. He gave me the address and I paused for a few.

I had been fucking with his next door neighbor for a while and I was just like - wow - I'm racking them up, right in a row. Literally. But I knew the neighbor was out of town and off I went.

He had left the door open for me and I found him upstairs at a desk watching porn on his laptop. Naked.

Not a word said as I went to my knees, sucked his ok 6.5" thin cock and swallowed his load. That was that. Three loads in an hours time.

But now it's weeks later. I'm getting into my car at the park after just having sucked off that sub guy. Lo and behold who is hitting me up but Fuzzy.

I was still in the mood for more cum, so why not?  Actually, I still had a raging hard-on from the park suck. I think I actually turned myself on by all the nasty things I was saying to him and how I treated him. I'm not patting myself on the back, but I have learned a thing (or a thousand) from the men I've serviced. Some more than others.

Once again, the door was unlocked.  Once again, he was upstairs watching porn on his laptop. Naked.

I took a nice hit of poppers then hit my knees and started sucking him.

He was way more into the porn than was seemingly into me. But if you've been around, you get a few of those. It's ok - I wasn't looking for stimulating conversation or a date.  I kind of would like the guy to notice my skills and what I'm doing, but maybe it's the porn that gets them off and that the mouth is just a place to dump the load.

On the vid, the top was fucking his office "intern" with a dildo nice and hard.  I asked the guy if he liked that.  ....but meaning that he'd like to be fucking the guy - not getting fucked.

"Eat my ass" was his response.

So he got on his chair, bent over the desk, exposing his tight little pink pucker to me. I dove in.

He was pretty much shower fresh - outside and in.  Oh yes, I said 'in'.  My tongue went deep....deep... and deeper. I ate that hole like I was fucking starving. He responded in kind.

The guy pushed back against my face, forcing my tongue deeper.  The way his hole accepted my tongue, I knew this wasn't his first time.  Or 101st time. His ass had seen more than tongue in its day.

Maybe it was the park encounter - and my pseudo dominant display. Maybe it was his ass.  Maybe it was the video playing, which now had the stud pulling the dildo out and replacing it with his raw cock. But I was rock solid hard.  I just kind of lost control.  No idea what came over me.

While taking mini-second breaks for ass eating, I kept spitting into my hand and slicking my cock up. Five, six, seven times.

He never asked for it. I never asked if he did.

I stood up and pushed my cock into his asshole.  It went in willingly. Oh so willingly.

Now - you know topping is really not my thing, but here I was with my bare cock buried in his ass. And he was now pushing back.

And I'm not a top for many reasons. The main one is mentally I'm not one - and even when I try, my brain and the neurons to my cock are not hooked up in that capacity. So staying hard is always a challenge.  That day?  Not so much.

Another reason is, I have little control.  When bottoming, I don't care if I ever cum. As a rule, I don't jack off for weeks at a time. I just don't care about cumming.  But when fucking, I don't know how to pace myself.

I'm sure with experience I could control the latter, but the former is the bigger issue. I can never seal the deal usually - nor do want to most of the time.

He did ask me to pull out and I complied. But he only wanted to move to the bed, so he knelt on the edge - a softer place than a desk chair.  He positioned himself like he had taken it this way numerous times. Numerous, numerous times.

I slicked myself up and went back in.  He took it like a pro.

My cock is not small, nor thin, so that he took it with ease meant he had as many visitors as his next door neighbor....just on the receiving end.

I was vocal about my being close - on a few times.  I stopped moving, but then he'd start fucking himself on my rod. And fuck, this boy could use his ass muscles to squeeze a shaft.  It was clear, he didn't want me to hold off. He wanted the prize. The load. My load.

The fucker was teasing my cock and knew I wasn't going to be able to hold off. He never asked for it directly, but he didn't tell me to stop. He didn't ask a lot of things, now that I come to think of it. But that's the way sex is, isn't it?  

It's all about the moment.

I really couldn't hold off, even though I was only about eight minutes into the fuck. I was at the finish line whether I liked it or not.

No big announcement from me, but somehow he knew.

I'm not like the porn guys who continue to fuck through their orgasm. I bury deep and unload.

Maybe he figured that out. Maybe he felt it throb.  Maybe he felt it shooting.  I don't know. I didn't ask. I didn't give a fuck.

But he knew. And that motherfucker continued to milk me with his professional ass muscles. He was going to get every drop regardless of what I thought or wanted.  But I'm not that sensitive after shooting, so I don't have to pull right out.  I let him do his job.

The aftermath is what you'd expect. A swipe of the towel on my cock - though he was remarkably clean, like he was planning on someone fucking him. Anyone.

Me pulling up my jeans, which never actually came off. A thanks and a trip down the stairs by myself.

I bet a large amount of money, he went back on-line looking for his next conquest, as he never stroked or got off.  He was looking for another dick - I just know it.

Of course, the next day, I got a message from him asking when I'd like to 'eat his ass' again.  But we all know that not what he was wanting from me.

the Park

The risk of getting caught - in the act, or in a sting - at a park has increased exponentially in the last decade or two.

Yet here I was, not only cruising a park, but getting into a guy's utility vehicle at a lesser traveled part of the park, that had full view of anyone approaching.  Still......it seemed risky.

Yet here I was. In a passenger seat of a stranger.

Do you know how when you look at some guys, you just know their the sub?

It's the way they carry themselves, react or a facial look that just lets you know they want to be controlled.  Of course, I like to think I'm above that. And often guys mistake me for (or hope that I am) a top.

If you read this blog for content, clearly I'm not.

This guy, while claiming versatility, was a sub. A bottom. Whatever you wanna call it.

Now, before ever getting into his truck, I told him what I was looking for. But like many other manipulative bottoms, I think he was hoping IF he got me there, I'd change my mind.

Clearly, he's never met me.

But I can be a manipulative bottom too, when need be. And sitting in that car, I needed to be, if I was going to get anything out of this encounter.

The guy (I'm sure he told me his name, which I immediately forgot), made some comment after asking if he was a cop. He asked if I was, and then made a mention that he liked the aggressiveness of a cop - and the uniform.

I don't have one, but I can cop (ha!) and attitude. So I just became an assertive "top" who was going to suck his cock.

So I sat there and told him of what I'd like to do to him - if I were in a full cop's uniform...or leather. How I'd fuck him. How I'd let others watch.  He was stroking himself - oh, so hard in his fist.

Of course I'd never do those things to him, but he doesn't need to know that. It was all talk. But it got him going - and that's when you let the assertive personality get you what you want.

That's when I told him what I was going to do to him right then - which was to suck his cock.

It's not my usual asking / begging scenario. It was a demand. A command, if you will.  He made a vain attempt to say that he wanted to suck me afterwards. I had no intention of letting that happen, but I played along and said, "only after I'm through with you".

...and then I went down on him. And I sucked him like an expert.  He had a nice 7" dick, not thin, but not thick.

He was so worked up from the public display and the dirty talk I provided, that he lasted maybe five minutes. But it was a nice sized load and tasted good.  So there's that.

Naturally, I got every drop - as I always try to do.

But now it was time for me to potentially get sucked. I was thinking of my way out when he provided it:  "that was great, but I don't swallow or let a guy cum in my mouth".

BINGO.

"Sorry boy - that's all I want. I don't want to cum on me or in your car.  It's your mouth and you swallow or nothing at all.".

It was nothing at all.

I exited, got in my car and drove away.

Headlock

I was running late. So fucking late.

My day long meetings went way longer than expected, some even bailing on me, only to be forced to reschedule those into conference calls on the four hour drive home.

...and I was going to be late for a dinner because of this.  ...and then needing to stop for gas while in route.

While pumping the gas, I get a message from a guy on Scruff.  7 miles away.  With a message asking: "Do you want to suck my cock?"

45, 6'0", 190. Handsome face.  Solid hairless chest.

And then this is attached to him too.

FUCK.

YES!  Of course, I wanted to suck his cock. But why now?  Why, when I'm running so fucking far behind?  But saying "no" wasn't an option. Not really.  I said I'd be there in 15 - as he was in a nearby hotel. Room 344.

I knocked. He answered. True to his pic, at least facially, as he was wearing nylon workout shorts and a t-shirt. But you could tell that chest was solid as hell and you knew it'd be beautiful.

For whatever reasons, I do love a nice chest on a guy. That an a face. I know here and blogs like this we talk about the cock, but a good face and chest can let you get away with a lot lesser body parts.

The door shuts and our hands go to each other. As if he knows me, his hands to right for my nipples over my dress and t shirts. I quiver, as you might expect.

Reaching to cup his cock through the shorts, he was solid there too. I had no worries. But he kept playing with my chest, which was hot, but it always makes me want to get fucked. Of course, this guy made me want to get fucked. Period.

That wasn't meant to be - for a number of reasons - so we just touched, we played. He tried to kiss.

I would have kissed him, but he wasn't very good at it, or very committed, even though he initiated it.

He also wasn't very good at sucking cock.

He liked my cock - and it is a nice cock, even if I rarely use it - and made a few half-hearted attempts to suck it, but I don't think it is really what he wanted to do. I think he just thought it was the admirable thing to do, but as you all know, I don't care about reciprocation.

So it came down to me on his dick.

We started with me on my knees and him standing.  Then he sat on the edge of his hotel bed.  Both ways I would take him to the root.

When he'd stand, he would pump my face, but I won't go as far as to say he fucked it. Neither of us were big on talking. I mean, my mouth was full, and he'd moan a little, but gave little words of encouragement.

He seemed like a nice, decent man - getting his pleasure by moving his cock in and out of my mouth, past the ridge of my lips and pushing back in again.....and again.

Naturally, I wasn't completely passive about this. I would use those lips. I would use my tongue.  I would meet and match his pushing into my mouth by moving my head down his shaft. We worked in unison.

Like I said, he seemed like a nice guy.

But as he stood above me and I was working his dick, the signs were there of him getting closer to orgasm.  This thick hefty tool became even more rigid. His breath became just a bit shallower.

All of the sudden his arm goes around my neck and I'm in a headlock.

His fat cock is now lodged down my throat. And he hisses:  "Is THIS what you wanted?   Is the load big enough for you???"

I could feel the pulses of his shaft. There was a faint odor of semen and an even more faint taste of bitter jizz.  But in reality, it all went directly down my throat, bypassing my tastebuds as he held me in that tight grip.

Not swallowing wasn't an option - not that I would have opted differently. Maybe he didn't know that. Maybe he didn't care.

I tried to nurse it a bit, but he yanked the cock out of my mouth and a glob of cum fell to my inner thigh. Hardly the shy one, I scooped it up with my index finger and ate it while he watched.

He grabbed his shorts and pulled them back on.  He didn't say it, but he was done. Done with the act. Done with his load.  Done with me.

He did mentioned he gets back here every few months and would keep me in mind.

Let's hope he does.