Playroom

I wasn’t sure how many people would be at a noontime, weekday, leather sex party. I assumed it wouldn’t be overflowing, but the torrential downpour on the way over there made me believe anyone who was thinking of even trying to get out into the flash flood areas was now safely ensconced at home. 

I, however, had already left work before the deluge, and even threw on a full harness before leaving the employee parking garage. I made some other tweaks at stop lights and such. When all said, I’d have the harness, vest, gloves and wrist bands. As it would turn out, I was only half of the folks (four in total – including me) in leather, and I by far had the most of it on. 

I found the place ok. Walked in as directed. I “knew” the host from the gym shower. I had never done anything with him. We had never verbally spoke before either. But he had hit me up on Recon wanting to play with my asshole. And well………….I like that hole to be played with. And by strangers if necessary. Deep down I knew attendance would be sparse and if I wasn’t the only bottom, I might get one fuck out of this sneaking out of work afternoon. Spoiler Alert: I wasn’t wrong. 

The host, another bottom and an observer were there when I arrived. I knew the guy watching – kind of. We were acquainted at CLAW years back, and at least he remembered me. The bottom was getting paddled by host. Then with his hands. I stepped up and offered my cock. He did a so-so job at best. He had Nasty Pig jock on, and honestly, I think he was in it more for the gear than the lifestyle. I’ll give him this: he didn’t flinch when I smacked his face as he gingerly sucked on my dick. 

The observer excused himself to go out and smoke and never returned. The host stepped away and by the time he came back the other bottom was eating my hole. Again – a so-so job. We opted to move it into the play room. 

As you can see, it is a VERY well stocked play room – and this pic barely covers part of one wall, let alone the entire room. Even the front room had a St. Andrew’s Cross. This had a sling, any number of sex toys, paddles, whips, brass knuckles (!!), etc. The business guy in me was mentally wondering how much this place was insured for and the amount of money it took to acquire such a collection. I didn’t need or want all of it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want / need some of it. 

I took the bull by the horns and was the one to step into the sling. The other bottom might have wanted it, but I didn’t care. It would be (almost) the last time I was a pushy / bossy bottom the rest of my stay there. Almost. 

The host took over. He ate my ass. Either my standards are too high, or I’ve become numb to it, but there was a time that an ass-eating had my nerves on edge – not so much anymore. I’m glad others react well when I do it to them. And of course, I went through the accolades even though I might have been acting a bit. Sue me. 

The eating went to hitting. Hand and paddle. I took it like a man. But then it went to dildos. Yes. Plural. Purposefully, I looked at none of them. I lay back in the sling and took these like a man too. 

The host was an expert at ass play. Making each rubber cock feel good, yet still bordering on just this side of uncomfortable. Of course, it was a plan to loosen up the hole and move up to bigger and bigger sizes. And that plan worked. 

At this point another guest showed. Slightly older than myself, leather shorts only on. He came to the top of the sling and reached over me to play with my tits. Naturally, I responded, verbally – even if no actual words came out – but my asshole also responded, opening up more easily for the guy on the footstool, sliding more and more dildo up my all too willing ass. 

With each new dildo, the used one would be tossed in a ‘dirty’ bucket. With the withdraw of one toy, the host went and ate my hole. The man above me played with my tits and would spit in my face. Or lightly would hit my face. It wasn’t my place to tell him ‘harder’, I was there to do as they wished, right? The other bottom stood by trying to excite himself with his palm. 

The host went to get some water, the guy above me moved around to eat my hole. Host came back and had a riding crop. While I know he was being cautious, as we he had not played together, his hits to my nipples, chest and abs were nice, but hardly impactful. He moved back between my legs and I asked him to use the riding crop on me down there. While he hit my balls – again, maybe not hard enough - I asked him to hit my ass with it. And I did mean my ass, as I cheeks. He said he had something better. I don’t know what the device was, and it was not for my cheeks, but he used it to hit my asshole. I felt it – for all dozen or so times he made contact with that pucker. 

All this while, the newest guy was playing with the other bottom. Sucking his cock, or trying to get him hard with his hands. I’d say he was semi-successful. It’s not the guy’s fault by any means, it is more that the bottom is / was the bottom. But the other guy goaded him into fucking me. Or trying to fuck me. It went fair – at best. 

I know what it is like to be a bottom trying to fuck. It’s a tough place to be in during the best of circumstances. Add an audience and a smallish enclosure and you’re almost doomed to fail. And in many ways, he did. Getting and keeping his dick hard was difficult. Fucking for any period of time was improbable. He put on a good act, as did I. He was rarely ever IN me, but he was just truly ‘bumping’ uglies. Not even fucking them. 

I took control of the situation, by begging (i.e. suggesting) that he cum on my hole. The best he could do, I figured, was beat off and shoot onto my hole. And while it seemed to take a while, that is what he did. When he did this, the newer guy took a toy and pushed it against my asshole, so the deposited sperm would make the journey into my guts one way or the other. For good measure, he licked my hole afterwards. 

Once done there, he turned his attention to my cock. There are times I love oral and am into it. There are many more times where of course I like it, but I’m in full-on bottom mode. This was one of the latter times. Yes, I was erect but that was due to all the butt activity. To get where they wanted me to go I had to dig deeper. It was more about thoughts of other times I’d been used that got me to the edge. And over it. 

Sure, the host and the newer arrival thought it was them, and there is no harm in letting them think that. My sexual-psychological make-up doesn’t need to be explained in a back play room while laying back in a sling. 

We all straightened ourselves up and went back out into the pouring rain.

Fucked in the Park

About a year ago I wrote about a park where black men frequent to hook-up.  I had only gone a few times, and with few results, before the park was slated to have a huge four year sewer project. So the cruisy part of the park is blocked off and for many hours of the day, occupied by city and county workers. 

I was informed of a different park where black men gather and probably have sex. On a Sunday morning, I tried it out. The shelter can be seen from the parking lot, but you cannot see into the shelter itself. It's dark. It's shaded. The path curves enough. If someone were at the outer edge of it, you could see there was a person, but that's about it. 

I did get my ass eaten there, but not fucked. But while getting that butt lapped at, three young black gentlemen strode by. They never looked over - not once. They passed the shelter and then double-backed and occupied the other side of the area. Immediately, one pulled down his shorts and bent over. There was no talk amongst the three. 

One other got behind him and applied lube and slid right into him. Not an ounce of resistance. Guy #3 - the cutest one - stepped up and fed the bottom. I watched. I waited. I moved closer and closer. Again, not once did they even glance my way or pay me any mind. 

I stood for a while and watched a fourth approach. He was getting fucked by guy #3 - who got the lube from guy #2.  It was a jar of non-name petroleum jelly.  I love they went old school using Vaseline. And the jar was already quite used. 

I only saw guy #3 get off. He didn't want to just yet, but couldn't stop himself. But I stayed long enough to see him go back in an ass, so he rebounded quickly. Ah youth!

My time there yielded no action other than a butt munching. 

On my third trip - just a few hours ago - (yes, trip 2 was a dud too) I was more successful. It was raining on and off, but there were 4-5 cars in the lot, all occupied, so no one in the shelter. Two guys walked up that way after a while, and then a third. I waited an appropriate length of time and left my car. 

On the way to the shelter, one guy returned and passed me. I got no look or acknowledgement. Then I passed a semi-hunky second guy who was going back to the lot and he mutter 'morning'.  I did the same. But he kept moving. The lone guy left was pretty overweight, and had his cock out, but it was small. It was, he'd have to use both hands to lift his belly out of the way for me to get to it should I be so inclined - which I wasn't.  He soon left, leaving me all alone. 

The heavy guy left the lot and another car was about to. I was 80% sure it was the semi-hunky guy. At the outer edge of the pavilion I dropped my shorts. If he were looking that way, he'd see. He parked his car at a closer spot rather than leave and slowly made his way back to the shelter. When he did, his dick was out and he was tugging on it a little. I was doing the same. He stood 5' away, leaning against the back stone wall of the building. 

I stood in front of him and grabbed his dick. He didn't stop me. It would become a solid 7", if not a bit longer. He also didn't stop me from sitting on the picnic bench in front of him and letting my wrap my lips around his ebony shaft. 

He liked it - judging by his moan - and I loved it. Feeling my mouth filled with black cock. 

I was doing this for a few when he reached to play with my nipples. If you've ever read my shit here, you know that is my weak spot and my barriers go down. I mean, let's be honest, I don't have many anyway, but it is a panty-dropper. I mean, had I had anything on under my gym shorts. 

Pulling off his cock, I told him how much I liked what he was doing and I'd be happy to do whatever he wanted. He questioned this with 'like what?'.  I countered back with him to name it. He just didn't. He was thinking, and I'm guessing about what he could say back. So I asked him how he liked to cum - and he asked where I wanted it.  I stated my usual response: "it's not up to me". 

"Will you let me shoot up your ass?"  I nodded.   "Yeah. That", he said. 

I responded by standing up, pulling off my shorts and bending over the stone wall. 

This was my view.

Clearly, the park has activity. And I can guarantee you none of these were used by the two of us. 

He kicked my legs apart and tried to go in. He pulled back, he spit more on his cock and I hit the poppers. 

He was pretty much at the hole and semi in. I adjusted myself so he'd be on target and I moaned, "just push into me". And he did. And kept going till he bottomed out. 

I won't lie, the start wasn't perfect. Not enough spit, but I powered through. I asked him to play with my tits again and he did. That made my hole respond in multiple ways - and we were off. 

The. Man. Could. Fuck. 

I leaned over that wall for 15 minutes taking a pounding. There was not a lot of variation. It wasn't a brutal fuck, but it was focused and unrelenting. While he wasn't horribly verbal, I was. Reminding him of how big he was (that got an ego chuckle from him) and how he should just fuck me!!!   So he did. 

He looked out for others. Not so much that anyone who is coming to that park on a Sunday morning is going to be a threat. It's more who he wanted to (or not) show off for.  Of course, I would have liked others to tag team my hole too. But it was cool and very rainy. 

At about the 12 minute mark of the assault, I was begging for him to fuck me harder and to cum up my ass. He complied with the first one. He did the second one too, but it took longer.  He picked up that pace and was slamming my hole with his black shaft and head. His breath got shorter and he was muttering "yeah yeah yeah......"  he was close.  And then he was there. 

He buried up me but never stopped fucking as he unloaded into me. With that, I could not really feel the dick pulse. But I knew from the catches in his throat he was shooting. 

The guy slowly pulled out. He grabbed a paper towel from his pocket - which made me think he was planning on fucking the entire time - wiped himself off and walked away without a word. 

P-town 6: the Writer

 I figure, I should wrap up this series, since it is now 14 months old!

Fully vaccinated here.  I know it's not the end-all / be-all, so I still wear masks in public, wash accordingly and social distance as necessary.  But with Covid and work burn out, I went to Provincetown to meet some college friends - with all of us staying at separate airbnbs.  While all vaccinated as well, we were still keeping mind of no herd immunity. 

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.

______________________________________________________

I knew him.  We'd met before, but even before that, we were on-line "friends". It's hard not to use the quotes when you mostly know someone virtually.  But about 10 years before, we did have drinks together when I was in his town.  We had a nice non-sexual time. 

And it was a non-sexual tension time too. I'm not sure either of us thought that way about each other in that way. But now it's 10 years later.  I'm alone in P-town and still horny as fuck. It'd been a decade since I last saw him, this might be the last time, or another decade.  I had nothing to lose. I pinged him on the app. 

I didn't reference our knowing each other. Nor did he. From another app, I also saw he was with his husband. I wasn't sure if that would be help or a hindrance. He said he could be by in 10, so I took the hubby not be an impediment. 

Sex with acquaintances is different, right? With strangers, while there are expectations, of course, you can be a bit more.......free and open with who you are. Even with a virtual friend, they have seen you in one light (and you them) and one has preconceived notions of each other. So while I wasn't nervous, I wasn't sure what to expect, or how honest I was about what I'd do - and to what limit.  I suspected the same of him. 

"Ron" entered confidently. "I only have a short time", so we got down to it. There was no kissing, as that would have been too familiar when we actually weren't. Our pants came down and damned if I wasn't surprised to see an 8", if not 8.25" cock pointing right at me.  Talk about not having correct preconceived notions!

Naturally, I went right down on it. He was thick too - beautifully so. 

Nice head on it too. He responded well to how I was working on it.  And being 8" or more, I won't lie thinking I wanted more from it. But in our brief text convo, it was all about a quick blowjob before he had to leave town. 

Naturally, I was more surprised when he somewhat blurted out he wanted to fuck my ass.  BINGO!

Again, it's one of those things semi-friends might not say fearing how the other might react - or not. We hold back. In 30 seconds we were in the bedroom, me bend over and him lining up. 

Even with lube and even with having taken a few dicks and loads on this trip, I was tight. Well, let's rephrase - he was BIG. It felt good, but it felt large. 

I get that I had no true frame of reference, but the man could fuck. Prior to this day, I might have wagered money that he'd be the one whose legs went up in the air.  I'm glad I was wrong. 

With generous amounts of lube it still took a while (seemingly) to get all the way in. I think I was more tense than I would have been with a total stranger. It's nature that you want to perform well anyways, but more so with someone with whom you're acquainted.  

Ron was persistent and while not relentless, he had a rhythm down that was hard to beat. Part of it was beating the cock, for sure. He had somewhere to be yet he wanted to cum. That's a lot of pressure when you sneak away from your husband to fuck a "stranger". 

We positioned ourselves differently, but looking up at him might have been weird for both of us. Part of P-Town sex has to do with anonymity. Yeah, you have the guys you see at t-dance you want to do, but you don't KNOW them. Sometimes it is better to be face down / ass up and just take it. Honestly, had I known he wanted to fuck, that's how he'd have found me. 

I could have been a bad fuck (ha!), or it could have been the pressure, but getting off by, and in, my ass was not going to happen. It got down to my mouth and hand.  Not my finest hour, but not remotely close to my worst. 

Naturally, I wanted things to be better,  but we don't always get what we want.

But Ron should watch out for next time I'm in P-Town.  I have a job to finish properly. 

Green. Yellow. Red.

I took a day off of work to attend a day of CLAW. 

I had no plan. I was just going. I made no prior arrangements with anyone - at least that panned out. That's ok. I do and don't enjoy the event - all at the same time. 

I am now comfortable in my skin - in and out of leather. I somewhat embrace the leather community thought I don't know it embraces me. But I'm an outsider. I've never really felt apart of it, even though I've been a manager there for six years and attending for three others. This year, I opted not to participate in planning or execution. 

I didn't even buy a day pass, just a vendor pass, so I could see if there was anything I wanted to purchase. Still, I went with the intent of getting fucked. Hopefully more than once. But with my quasi-relationship, I've opened up a number of new experiences to which I've somewhat mentioned in previous posts. Watersports and some impact play amongst them. 

I hung in the lobby of the host hotel. It was earlier in the day - nothing official was yet going on. There was some slight cruising going on with me and another guy until others showed up - then he was gone. But I got a few pings from some apps - one being a guy a few hundred feet away (straight up, it would turn out) who was interested in a little fun. He had later morning plans but had 45 minutes free, if I wanted. 

His Recon profile was more about impact play, but we had not discussed what would go on. And I didn't ask. I headed to the 16th floor. He was handsome, but very understated. Fully clothed - t-shirt and jeans. After I entered, I was told to leave my clothes on a chair. I dropped them all and presented myself. 

I saw his tools laid out on the bed - save four items.  There were two paddles, two floggers and one mallet of some type.  

He asked how experienced I was. I overstated that by a bit. Over the last year, I have experimented this way, but not to the degree that was about to take place. 

He asked if I was comfortable being restrained. I replied it wasn't up to me. He liked this. He said I would be gagged, bound and blindfolded.  These were three of the four things I had not seen. 

The gag was a ball one. Some have slots for air and spit to pass through. This was not that. It was a full gag, limiting my saliva, my breathing, and any vocalization. It was firmly attached. 

The blindfold was leather. I have one, but not like this. Mine, is amateur hour to this. There is no possibility to see light or anything else.  That was number two. 

I was told to kneel on the bed - guided there -  and to place my wrists next to my ankles. I did as I was told.  He secured me that way. Each wrist was secured to each ankle. Exposing me as such. And with little to no movement. It was perfect. 

I was told that there would and could be three things I was able to say:  Green. Yellow. Red. 

Green would mean for him to continue. 

Yellow meant for him to continue but lighten up or I needed a break. 
Red means what it always means: Stop. 

In reality, unless I said Yellow or Red, there was no reason to ever say Green. He assured me he could understand me through the gag. 

He started with a paddle. Wooden, I believe. He was firm, but steady. Not overdelivering. I know I made some noise behind the gag, but nothing unpleasant. It was acknowledgement. It turns out, this would please him. This paddle was for testing. For warm-up. So were the severity of his swats. 

Paddle two, I'm guessing was leather. Firmer. Stingier. Unrelenting. His strikes were firm and he meant business. I mean, I knew from the entire set up, he meant business. And he did not disappoint. I was trying not to as well. I grunted. I groaned. I moaned. I did not say 'yellow' or 'red'.  I didn't want to. 

The first of the floggers was next  After this would all be done, this would be my favorite. Going in, I wasn't sure. I had never been flogged. I was anxious - for the good and for the potential bad. He didn't just target my ass, but got some swats in on my side and back. I won't say part of me was wondering why I was enjoying it this much, but I kind of was. 

He asked if I was doing ok. I nodded my head. I was smart enough to know that I couldn't reply to that question with Green, Yellow or Red.  He was smart enough to know I was smart enough. 

He did reach in to feel my cock.  "Well, I guess you ARE enjoying this!", he said. I knew I wasn't hard and he felt me, so he knew I wasn't either. Apparently I was leaking a lot of pre-cum onto his comforter. He said as much.  I'm not saying he punished me for that, but with the second flogger he just picked up, the hits were harder and more frequent - though perfectly timed in his mind. This guy was a pro. He wasn't hitting me willy-nilly. 

The second flogger stung much more than the first. Or the paddles. I contemplated saying "yellow", but I didn't want to seem weak. I think his harder hits were to get me to say Yellow or Red, to see if he could break me a bit. I didn't take Psych 101 for nothing!

The last time - and I'm just guessing here - was a hard rubber mallet. He hit my ass and back with it. Honestly, compared to the other items, I just kind of felt a 'thud' here and there. It did nothing to or for me. 

But the one item I had not seen beforehand, and clearly not blindfolded turned out to be this. 

While I didn't see it, I instinctively knew what it was.  He ran it over my ass, my back and my sac. I won't say I enjoyed it, but it got a reaction from me. 

"I like that you react. You make noise. You don't lie there like some dead fish".  I'm guessing many who are more experienced might? Listen, I didn't say I got a great grade in Psych 101. 

He let me rest for a minute and then said: "Ok, we're going to go through each of these again, and you're going to count out 20 for each. BUT not every one - just everyone you think is truly a hit". 

Paddle #1 commenced. I didn't count the first 4-5. But then I started counting for each true strike. 

Paddle #2, the same. Though he said I was counting too many he didn't think he were worthy to be called a hit. 

Flogger #1. He again said I was counting too many, and now for each count I did make, he would strike harder. And he did. Of course, the crux of this is, count fast and they are over. Count slower and you get many more contact. So instead of 20, I probably got 40.  I don't think this is the losing proposition. At least for me. 

Flogger #2. I didn't count fast at all, but the contact was harsher. Or maybe my body was feeling it more or different. 

He didn't even bother with the mallet, but he did revisit the rolling razor. I flinched repeatedly at that. I did not enjoy it, but I didn't use any of the words of which he allowed. 

The man was a good "top", and gave me praise for enduring what I did. It was moderated praise - not enough to give me a swelled head, but enough to know that I did him proud. It sets one up for the next encounter - whatever and with whomever that might be. 

He left me like this.......

I know you're wondering where the sex was. 

That was it. 

It was a mind fuck to a degree. I was in a position, literally, where he could have violated me with penetration, but it never happened. I won't lie and say I didn't want it to, but this was his scene. 

Asked much later if he gets erect from that kind of meet-up, he wholeheartedly said, "YES".  And that's his mind fuck. I think at times we all get off mentally, if not physically. I think both he and I did that day. 

As I dressed, I told him I had a confession:  that was only my second time. 

Yes, I've experienced hands and belts before, but not to that degree, not to that detail. He was so methodical about it. 

He said, had he knowing, he wouldn't have gone as far as he did. I assured him nothing happened that I didn't want - and reminded him I never said Yellow or Red.  

He thought for a second or two and said, "no........no you did not.  Good boy."

Oh the Places You'll Go

Dr. Suess has nothing on me.  Nothing, I tell ya. 

Yes, I've been away from the blog for a while. I pondered leaving it up and no adding to it.  I vacillated on deleting the 800+ posts and 86'ing the archive altogether.  But part of me thought I wasn't quite done with this yet. 

I have zero idea if I have any audience left - and it is totally valid had they moved on. It's a world of instant gratification and this blog is anything but. I never even completed my Provincetown series - and that was 13 months ago. 

There is no excuse and lots of explanation to it, but you know - that's never why people have stopped by here.  I've been busy in life and work and a quasi-relationship (that's for another time......maybe), and when it hasn't been work, life or that last thing, I've been lazy.  How's that for a nutshell. 

During times of Delta and Omicron, "activities" pretty much fell to the quasi relationship guy.  And while he's been nothing but adventurous, time will tell if I write about that. With semi-decreases in Covid cases, and a second booster, I've been a little more.........willing, if you will, to get out there. Selectively - though this story will defy that last statement. 

As I said, Oh - the place you'll go.  You'll being me. And how low level the bar can be at times. 

His opening line wasn't "hey", " 'sup" or "how's it hanging?".  He went for it:  "Wanna suck me".  There was no question mark. That has to do more with the education system than him meaning it - but not - as a statement. 

I do like someone getting to the point. 

His stats were fine:  no age, but 6'1", 185.  I should have been wary of his looking for "other gamers". But I got the address and I was off.  He said the door would be unlocked and to just come upstairs. I got there - it was a townhouse in an iffy development. They'd seen better days, but.........I wasn't there to house hunt. 

But I walked into this (albeit, I took the shot on the way out)

What you don't see, is the hall going back from the door was jam-packed with crap. So was the staircase. And the top of the stairs.  The man was a pig, and in a very different way than you'd call me one. I internally shuddered at how many roaches must be under this stuff and in his kitchen, which I could only assume was just as dirty.  He did nothing to make me less wary of "gamers" - and the stereotypes that surround them - though to be fair, this wasn't his parent's basement. 

Also on the stairs?  Him. 

He was at the stop of the stairs, ass on a step with his legs splayed out down the next few. He wasn't letting me upstairs, and honestly, I was ok with that. 

What was also waiting for me was this

Well, what it would become. 

Fully grown - in my throat - it became over 8.5" and thick as fuck in terms of the shaft, especially the base. 

He was horrible at dirty verbal, but I'm guessing he was less than 30. My other stereotype about gamers is that if not virgins, they're close to it.  He was close to it.  Clearly. 

The guy appreciated my skills. While not rusty, it'd been a while since I tackled a dick this big. I mentioned something vague about how it would feel good up an ass. He replied he'd never done that, but the tone took on more of something he'd rather not do. I wasn't prepped for that anyway - let alone one that would hit oil. 

So I stayed on my knees, between his legs, sucking his mammoth cock. 

It wasn't worship, which dick was destined to be, it's just attached to the wrong guy, in the wrong place. I was there to get him off and get out. I'm usually not there just for the load. I like the process of getting the load.....but this time, I just wanted it and to leave. 

There was skill, of course. But I did not curtail all those skills to his reactions. I had a job to do. And I did it. 

He warned me he was getting close. I couldn't tell if the thought I should know to pull off? I can only imagine what else was left in that carpet on the steps. But I took it all. Decent sized load, though a little bitter. 

I made sure to get all drops, then I stood up to leave. As I had not taken anything off, it was a clean (pun intended) getaway. He, still laying on the stairs. 

The entire event made me think about all those / these situations I've put myself into for the quest for cock. I'm not proud. But I'm not ashamed either. It just is. 

I've gotten a few messages from this nerd:  "I you as my regular so bad".   That is the direct message. I'll assume "want" was meant to be in there. 

.......I haven't replied.  Nor will I. 

P-town 5 & 7: Late Night / Early Morning Muscle

Fully vaccinated here.  I know it's not the end-all / be-all, so I still wear masks in public, wash accordingly and social distance as necessary.  But with Covid and work burn out, I went to Provincetown to meet some college friends - with all of us staying at separate airbnbs.  While all vaccinated as well, we were still keeping mind of no herd immunity. 

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.

_________________________________________________________

He had the word 'Alpha' right in his screen name on Scruff.  And he reached out to me? 

I mean, what could I possibly do?  How could I possibly say 'no'?  Clearly, I couldn't - not that I wanted to. He said he'd be over in 10 minutes - and he was. 

Everything about him was a red flag. Younger. Handsome. Bodybuilder wanna be. What the fuck did he want with me?  It's not like I asked him or anything. I gave him the address and how to get in - he was there at the time he said. He was ready, so was I. 

At least from our brief texts all he wanted was head. I was drunk. It was after hours. I was ok with anything that came my way - and especially from someone who looked like him. 

His screen name was accurate. Alpha. 

While he was somewhat cordial, he held the cards, the directed the scene, or at least most of it. 

Alpha sat on the airbnb sofa, I got on my knees, where he said I belonged. He was not incorrect. His pants off, his legs spread, he provided access to what I needed and what he wanted. 

I think he'd have been happy for a good blowjob and to leave. But by his name alone, he deserved more. Worship. 

...and I did. 

It's easy enough to take a cock into a mouth and bob till a guy shoots. If a man is not inpatient, the tongue and lips, separate from the mouth, are wonderful tools to excite, enhance and prolong the experience. While cylindrical in nature, there really are four sides to the dick, and the head, the balls and the taint. On Alpha, I used them all. 

He settled in for the experience. Sank into the couch while his legs loosened up even more. His hand to my head, his mouth saying all the right things.  Not just the "ohhh yeahhh" shit. Him telling me what I'm doing right.  Telling me what I should be doing more of. I was happy he wasn't telling me I was doing something he didn't like. He liked it all, but wanted more of certain things. 

I think he liked the tongue on this sac, but he LOVED it a little below that. Of course, I went further south and he didn't stop me. 

Still, there was a job to do and I was determined to finish it. And it seemed it would be with his help. Both hands on my head guiding me up and down - though it was a route with which I was very familiar. Not necessarily on him, but similar paths I have taken thousands of times on thousands of guys. 

I / He edged a few times but then he was ready. My mouth halfway down on his shaft, and hands firmly on my head, he shot.  And shot again.......times seven. Nice thick ropes. His chest heaving. His breath catching. Yet still ekeing out the words "swallow" "cocksucker" and "faggot".  And of course, I would swallow, but only after pulling off, showing him his seed and moving his hand to my throat to grasp it. Like so many, he picked up on it and squeezed. Some do it lighter. Some harder.  He was closer to the tighter grip. 

I swallowed.  He smiled. 

My mouth, as always, goes back to the dick. Invariably there is a stray drop or three. And if you squeeze the shaft up from the bottom - be it with your hands or lips - up, you're bound to extract the final amounts of semen a man still has left. 

He was drained and still catching his breath.  I was still on my knees. His cock still in my mouth. But I was smart enough to leave just the head and little bit of the shaft. 

I wasn't moving. I wasn't sucking him. It just sat there.  Waiting. 

I wanted to see what he would do.  I want to see what I would do if he got on my wavelength. 

"You still want my dick, huh?  Sorry, I'm spent".   I didn't move. Nor did he. It seemed like minutes went by.  And then the lightbulb went off. 

"Oh.........you want my piss?  Fine. I'll give that to you". 

For me, it was now or never. It wasn't my place.  It wasn't my carpet. I had no idea if he'd be pissing clear, beer or heavy yellow.  Honestly, I was hoping not the latter. But I was in for it now. No real turning back in front of someone named Alpha. 

It trickled slow at first. Droplets. Almost tasteless. Warm. Very warm. 

With his cock in my mouth and starting to flow, he used one hand to help himself off the couch by pushing into a cushion. Things inside of him untangled a bit, allowing piss to start moving more freely. 

The volume picked up. The speed picked up. With just part of his cock in my mouth I used it like a straw, not letting any accumulate in my mouth. Just keep swallowing. That was the trick for me. 

"Drink that down, motherfucker" - so I did.   "You wanted it.........get it all".  And I did.  So I did. 

There's a point when you're pissing - or the other guy is - and you know when you've peaked. So I knew when the stream was settling down and no matter what, I could still get it all without any struggle. 

That night, I took every drop of everything that came out of Alpha's cock. Oh, and his spit too, as he looked down at me, my tongue extended...........another non-verbal sexual request.  I was not denied. s

He left with a brief thank you - and I went to bed. Filled and happy. 

Fast forward two days later. My departure date. 6am.  I get this message. 

He gave me the address.  One street over, but his instructions were fucked up and wrong. The buildings, three of them, were not well marked and identical. He said the door was open, so I went up and found the open door. 

On a sofa-bed inside there was a man sleeping with a dog. The dog went batshit crazy and I backed out. the guy didn't seem to wake. I left the door wide open. No way this was Alpha's place. As I was leaving, I passed another man who asked me what I was doing. I walked away with no response. 

One building over, I found it. 

Alpha was in bed. I was dressed and stayed that way.  

I leaned over the bed, pulled down his sheet and my mouth engulfed his cock. He lay back and I stayed leaned over, bobbing up and down on his shaft, taking him al the way to the root. Like the time before, his hand clasped my neck and he pushed me down on his cock at his will - at the force he chose. I was simply a vessel. 

It didn't take long. This was good. He had somewhere to be and I had to be on the road. His cum flooded my mouth.  I didn't hold it to show him the good before. I swallowed and he knew it as my mouth was still around his shaft as I ingested. He could feel the muscles. 

When he was done he held me for a minute?  Want my morning piss? 

I did................but I really didn't.  In theory I did, but I know what the first piss of the day is like. I'm still new to piss and the heavy yellow stream - smell and taste - isn't a need at this point. I politely declined, he chuckled and let me go. 

I thanked him this time - as it should be - went back to my place, loaded the car and left. 

Public BJ

I returned to THE park last week. Actually, I've returned several times, almost all without any type of success. It got to the point I didn't make a point of going. But, you know, I was horny.  Actually, what I wanted was a place to smoke a cigar without any interruption of anyone bothering me about it. IF I could get laid in the meantime, so be it.  

The week before, I was there just to cruise. A guy came to my car and asked me to follow him. So I did. He went back into that abandoned tennis court and before I could get in there, his formidable cock was already out. Curved. Thick. Good sized.  I went to my knees and gave it my all.  

The cock was ripe, but that did not detract me. Yet my skill and enthusiasm wasn't enough. After about 10 minutes, he pulled back, zipped up and walked away.  Damn. 

So this time, I wasn't there for anything other than kicking back on a beautiful day with what would turn out to be a fair cigar at best.  About halfway through, a guy got out of his car and walked towards the tennis courts, where I was. 

As he approached, he looked so promising.  Tall. Dark as night. Good body - tight white t-shirt on, baggy blue jeans, though not hanging off him, and mirrored sunglasses. 

Between where I was standing and the court was a stone wall about thigh high - at least on a 6'2" guy it is. He was on one side of the wall, I on the other. He eyed me up and down (I think). It was hard to tell in mirrored sunglasses. I did the same, only more obvious, with my eyes purposefully coming to rest on his crotch. 

After a long minute, he started walked back to his car.  Fuck.  No luck. 

But me, being me, followed him with my eyes and squatted down. Should he turn back, he'd see me in sucking position. When he got to his car, he looked back, shut his car door without ever getting into it and started the trek back.  I stayed put. 

This time, he wasn't on the other side of the wall. He stood next to me and the tree I was against. 

No words from either of us. It was a risk about not asking if he was a cop, but I reached for his crotch and felt his hardening dick. He took over, unzipped and pulled it out.  It was beautiful:  dark, like him, thick and veiny. I'd guessing 7.5". 

He positioned himself just so. As we took no true cover there, people on the freeway and off ramp, in theory could see. I'm not sure how much at 70 mph, but if stuck on the ramp, could definitely see a man in a white shirt from the back. Possibly seeing a white guy squatting in front of him. 

I wasn't deterred.  I went right to work. He let me. No words. Not sounds other than the din of traffic. He was facing in such a way he'd see anyone heading our way. 

At first our rhythm was off. My going down and his pushing in was not in sync. I fixed that problem. His hands were contently in his pockets. Without taking my mouth off his cock, I took one of his hands and guided it to the back of my head. It was then I saw the diamond encrusted wedding band.  Married to boot.  Nice. 

With the hand there, he took over. The second hand joined the first and it went from a blowjob to a face fuck. I think he felt in total control at this point and I was in pig heaven. 

It's not that I wasn't a utility before this head/hand grasp, but it was without a doubt at this point. He was single focused and me, as a person, wasn't even part of the equation. As you've figured out well before this post, I'm fine with that. 

I was more surprised how soon after he took that lead role that he came. I wasn't expecting it. Still no words and his dick didn't seem to get harder as he got closer. None of the tell tale signs were there. But then came the roar. 

It was loud, but not so loud that vehicles on the off-ramp could hear should their windows be down. It wasn't the biggest or tastiest load I've had - not by far. His sounds made the orgasm seem larger than it was, but I think we all know the physical outward can be different than the internal feeling. 

Where I would have liked to make sure I got all drops, he pulled out and away and actually wiped his big black cock on the tree bark next to me.  Don't think I didn't look or notice either.......

He did not leave a lot of residual sperm, but he left it. And well, you know I couldn't abide by that.  At all. 

I took care of it. 

I also know he was watching this before he got into his car.  I'm sure he was just thinking, "fucking faggot!". 

I'm good with that. 

Bob Returns

Taking a detour on my P-Town posts because......well, I haven't written them all yet. So I'm digging into one that had been drafted, but not completed at the time (it is now) and ready for publish. 

He’s been back a few times. “Bob”, that is. But this was all pre-Covid. I’m just getting around to it now. 

I find him extremely attractive and had for years before we ever connected sexually. As mentioned before, I didn’t even know he knew I existed. It just took time. 

This time, he came over, dressed right from work. Beautiful blue suit. White dress shirt. Nice red silk tie. Polished shoes. He looks incredibly hot dressed up like this. I think he’s incredibly hot any way. 

My initial sighting of him was at CLAW in t-shirt and leather. Variations of that dress, depending on the day. Depending on the year, as it did take years to ‘connect’.  He looked hot that way too. However, I do fucking love a man in a suit. And he wore it well.

But like a good pig-like man, that’s what was on the outside. Presentable for those looking. Filthy underneath.

Hands placed on my shoulder and guided me down to my knees, where I was all too willing to go. My face hovered next to his crotch. With my face hovering right up against his crotch, I could feel the warmth of my own breath bouncing off the fabric and back at me – my beard, chin, lips. I hesitated, as this is usually the time I would move my face into a crotch. Not just to feel the material, but to be one with it. Gnaw at it. Lick it. Suck through it. Feel things start to stir as I worked them from a non-naked scenario. I went for it anyway. 

Nice suit or not, he didn’t stop me from doing it. Actually he encouraged it, with words and a firm hand behind my head pushing me into his crotch. After the appropriate amount of attention to his area, of course, for truer satisfaction (for him, obviously) I went for the belt……….and the zipper. I was not denied, my hand not slapped away. 

Under that suit was a leather jockstrap pouch. Red. To match his tie. 

The man is nothing if not coordinated. He saw the reaction in my eyes. I probably sighed….or moaned. He chuckled knowingly. I don’t know if he thought he was hot, but he knew I thought he was and that is probably as good as is needed for a top man. 

I worked on the pouch with new vigor. 

But soon that was to be unsnapped exposing his thick 6” dick. And down on that I went. Like. A. Champ. I might add. Bob seemed to agree if groans, moans and guttural words of “oh fuck yeah” were to be believed. He stood there, pants around his wingtips, white dress shirt unbuttoned, but remained on, with the tie loosened and askew with some cocksucker swinging on his meat.  Just the way it was intended to be. 

However, I’m smart enough to know while my mouth is good, my hole was the goal. To be honest, that was the goal for both of us, though I had little say in this our any outcome. I know my station. 

Off came the shoes. Off came the pants. Off came the jacket and tie. The shirt remained on but open. Everything else remained in place….except for me, who was bent over the desk of my home office. I guess one more thing went on:  spit on his cock. It’d be the only lube I’d be getting. 

And his hand. On those cheeks. often.  There were red marks. They'd remain for a while. 

The entry was blunt, but nothing I couldn’t take or endure. Bob isn’t one for subtlety or nuance – at least not when it comes to fucking subs. Using, maybe more than fucking. This was about his pleasure ultimately, but I think (?) somewhere in him, he wanted to think what he was doing made me feel good. Read that again:  he didn’t care if I felt good. He wanted what HE was doing to make me feel good – as it was still all about him. 

The pounding – and let’s face it, that’s what it was – was intense and verbal. Telling me how the hole felt. Grunts. Moans. Nice movement and then slamming up the hole. Bob is rough, but not as rough as he thinks he is. That, or he’s holding back. Either way, I’m not fragile and if he wanted to kick it up a notch, I wouldn’t be opposed. 

At some point I got flipped on my back so I could watch him fuck me. And watch I did. I love seeing a man in motion. The intensity in their face – and he had it – the look in their eyes, the lust. I mean – I am totally fine with being ass up, head down. Just used.  But trust me, I was being used. 

While he didn’t tell me ahead of time, I know the signs of impending orgasm. The glaze over the eyes, the mouth agape. The flush of the face. Of course, at the moment of – the GROWL and the howl. The pulse. The warmth. And naturally, the sneer. His. 

He was nice enough to let it slide out normally as opposed to just yanking it out. Then he stood there, hands on hips and said, “get it clean, faggot”.  And I did. Dropped to my knees and took the cock that had just been up my asshole, and took it in my mouth. Like I would have if it were just a blowjob, I worshipped that motherfucking prick and made sure to get every inch in me, using my tongue to make sure he was spotless. He was. 

He then had me hop back up on the desk and lay back. I wasn’t sure what he would do, but it turns out, he would be getting me off. With his fist. 

No no………he didn’t put his fist up my rectum (#lifegoals!), but gripped my slimy cock with his hand. I was so revved up and his manly grip was erotic and painful at the same time. He knew it too. And he jacked me. And jacked me. And then some more. 

Of course, it was enough to make me ejaculate. But that wasn’t enough for him. With his hands having some of my cum in them, he continued to use it as lube as he kept stroking me. The post-orgasm sensitivity shot me through the roof. Like his grip, it was erotic, ticklish, painful – I was beside myself, wanting him to stop, smart enough (?) not say the word. 

He knew exactly what I was feeling, because I was an open book at this point. He could see me. He could feel me squirm. He could see my horror and delight all at the same time. I’m 99% sure this was not his first time doing this trick – though it was a first with me. 

He left satisfied. He left me in a fucking heap. 

Then Covid hit and we haven’t had any repeat, though now and then, I will get a filthy-laden text from him, so I know in the future we will be revisiting this or new encounter.  I can’t wait

P-town 4: No habla inglés

Fully vaccinated here.  I know it's not the end-all / be-all, so I still wear masks in public, wash accordingly and social distance as necessary.  But with Covid and work burn out, I went to Provincetown to meet some college friends - with all of us staying at separate airbnbs.  While all vaccinated as well, we were still keeping mind of no herd immunity. 

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.

_________________________________________________________

The guy was hitting me up and disappearing. Or not responding. I didn't take him seriously or spend too much time on him over the few days this happened. I was not that invested, and clearly, neither was he. 

At best, his messages were stilted and he struggled with the language. It would turn out he was from Bolivia. Or maybe it was Bogata. It started with a B and wasn't Brazil. This much I retained. Then it just kind of came together. And he arrived on his bike about 10 minutes later. 

His profile pic was better than the real thing (shock!), but he still had an air of handsomeness about him - and the swarthyness of a man from South America. 

I usually don't show face shots here, but I see no downside here, even if someone points him to my blog. 

The eroticism and passion you want from a Latin man didn't happen here. Oh, he was fine. We tried communicating until we just decided it was better to have my mouth full. Honestly, I think he wanted his filled, but it was my vacation, my rental, my terms. And I was clear on that in our on-line exchange - - assuming he could read English. 

It was a brief event, but it fair. 

As you might expect, he had an uncut peen. It wasn't horribly large, but a little below average. But it worked. He was hard and he was in a rush. He had to go to the gym and then work. 

He insisted that I be on the bed, head back while he knelt beside me and fed me dick. So, that is exactly what we did. He did.  I did what I needed to so that he would feel satisfied. 

The load arrived quicker than I anticipated or wanted. I love the process of getting the guy off, but totally realize, some guys want to shoot and go. He was such a guy. 

In a heartbeat, he was up, pulling on his shorts and telling me in broken English he had to go. I wasn't stopping him. I had places to be, people to meet and possibly look for the next guy later on. 

P-town 3: the Perv

Fully vaccinated here.  I know it's not the end-all / be-all, so I still wear masks in public, wash accordingly and social distance as necessary.  But with Covid and work burn out, I went to Provincetown to meet some college friends - with all of us staying at separate airbnbs.  While all vaccinated as well, we were still keeping mind of no herd immunity. 

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.

_________________________________________________________

He wasn't exactly as advertised. But I was quite drunk and it was quite late, and I didn't have to go to him. So, instead of GrubHub, it was more like SchlubHub. And like anything when you've had a few to drink, it's not quite what you wanted, but it's what you got. 

Dude was about late 30s. Heavier set than he said. More tatts than I realized. Stank of heavy cigarette usage. Probably high too. 

A more sober me might not have looked all past that, but the drunk me did. 

No warm and fuzzies. This was sex only. Clothes off, we got right down to it. It didn't even need to start off with the prelim cocksucking to get him hard. He was there. 

He slathered the lube I had in a jar next to the bed onto his 6.5" upwards curved cock. He poked at my back door and pushed his way in. I moaned........loudly.  While P-town is tightly clustered in terms of residences, at the time, I had no neighbors and all the doors and windows were shut. But this was something I needed.........more than wanted. 

He had barely bottomed out in me when he asked/stated, but with seemingly impossible prior knowledge that I had been sexually abused as a child.  Granted, that is a 50/50 shot probably, and yes, I was in a younger-older forced on situation but I don't see it as 'sexual abuse'.  I know the law would. 

Truth be told, my first time, in retrospect is erotic to me. So I had no problem telling this guy. The more details he pressed for, the harder he was, the harder he fucked me. He was way into it. 

As it turns out, him asking me was probably just an excuse to tell me his first time tale(s), which kept him hard and kept him boning my ass. He too was younger who had an older (but not nearly as old as mine) guy take charge of a situation. 

I GET that not everyone's experiences are on the up and up. I totally get having sex with underage kids is in theory not a good idea, but fuck - I would probably personally thank each and every one of the men who used me when I was a kid. They helped me become me.  And I'm comfortable with that. 

This guy got it too. He was fucking me for all it was worth and he wasn't going to be quick about it. Sure eventually, it just became about the porking and not the stories. I was feeling the up curve with every inward thrust. At some point I knew I needed to get some rest, so I actively used my ass muscles to massage that shaft and to get him closer. And it worked. 

Soon enough, it was he making the noise to disturb the neighbors, had they been there. And then my ass as filling with his load. He didn't stay in my long. He slipped out - and then shortly after, slipped out of my airbnb.  I was ok with that. 

After that, I slipped into bed and got some shut eye. 

P-town 2: Hispanic Dad

 Fully vaccinated here.  I know it's not the end-all / be-all, so I still wear masks in public, wash accordingly and social distance as necessary.  But with Covid and work burn out, I went to Provincetown to meet some college friends - with all of us staying at separate airbnbs.  While all vaccinated as well, we were still keeping mind of no herd immunity. 

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. 

_____________________________________________________

I was minding my own business (ha!) in the morning. I had gotten up and walked up to Commercial St. to grab some caffeine and something to eat. Oddly, the night before over-indulging with alcohol didn't set me back in terms of sleep, waking up and almost no hangover effects. 

It was sunny but chilly, yet I sat on the patio of Joe Coffee.  As my friends were feeling a little worse for the wear, no one joined me this morning, I was left with my own company. It turns out, at least to myself, I get bored easily with myself. So when people-watching wasn't enough, I fired up the apps. 

Most of the same people were on all the apps - all varying distances away, but none of them THAT far. I'd say no one was catching my eye, but the reality of it probably was - it was I catching no one else's ocular gaze.  Until............

Oscar wasn't far away. In his 50s (I'm guessing), 5'7", Hispanic, salt and pepper hair and beard, height-weight proportions and a 6.5" dick. Cut - which was the more surprising thing. I told him where I was,  what I was wearing and he showed up and plopped himself down at my table. He was handsome and interested, so I grabbed my now luke-warm tea and we headed the quarter mile back to my Airbnb. 

More than once on that walk he mentioned he had to meet his daughter in a while, or had to text her saying he was walking. I was unsure if she was 14 or 28. I assumed he didn't leave a minor on her own, but fuck, I've done a lot worse things for making a hook-up. 

There was zero pretense here. Pants went down. Shirts came off. I went to my knees. He sunk back into the sofa. My mouth went onto his cock......then down to the base. He moaned his appreciation. His cock responded to full hardness. But we both wanted more. 

Then it was off to the bedroom. 

On my back, legs up, just the way he wanted. 

Oscar was a quiet, respectful guy and a decent top man. 

He knew how to fuck, and that's what I wanted.  It wasn't a long fuck, but a good one. And there was no hesitation or question about shooting up my ass. 

We cleaned up, straightened up, we chatted. He mentioned how much he liked fucking my ass. I concurred. The talk got into specifics of how he like to bone butt. I told him how much I liked having it done and how tough Covid had been on all of us in terms of limited sex. 

He asked about any other encounters I had up in P-town. I told him of one. That's all it took. He pushed me back to the bedroom. 

Less formality than last time. I had only put on my underwear and a t-shirt. The former came down and off. He unzipped His 50 something year old cock was rock hard again and he just went to it. Bent over the bed he went to town on my ass, and using his own cum as lube.   ....and in a short 10 minutes later, he added to that lube. 

After that, he was off to see his daughter.  

What a perv!