Saturday, October 29, 2016

When bloggers meet... (redo)

(Apparently some of the text got lost when I first published it so I'm redoing it...)

"You knew this was how we were gonna end up, huh?"

I assembled a reply of assent to the largely rhetorical question before blurring out a guffaw that I stifled as quickly as possible but not before changing the angle a tiny bit and fucking my inches into him for emphasis. It was a move that borderlined the affected. The laugh, the swagger, the confidence that I could persuade a man to give himself to me and the little sway of the hips before I plunged it all into him... all a little more cocky and self-assured than I really was. To be honest, I wasn't sure if we were going to meet at all, let alone where we ended up: in a motel bed by his work with my cock buried inside him and me slack jawed in amazement that anything could feel as good, eyes feasting on the beauty that lay below me.

I've followed James/JFBreak ( http://jfbreak.blogspot.com/2016/10/meeting-bruce-gay-stuff-ahead.html ) on blogger for several years now. Half a decade? Long enough to move to his hometown and then back out. I had commented on his blog a few times and then emailed him directly when I found that I was gonna move to his city. I completely ignored his advice on where to live, not without a little regret. Through the correspondence and just reading the blog itself, I was struck by the level of his authenticity. A clearly strong voice, even as it expresses doubt or hope and a voice that challenged me to allow for another point of view that's completely not my own. I've never had an inkling of bi-phobia, that derisive stance that some gay guys get thinking bi guys just won't pick a side and are really just gay men in disguise. At the same time, I've never challenged my own spectrum of sexuality, never fully analyzed my own curiosities of the other sex despite my affinity to female breasts and also never truly meditated on my views of fidelity.  He exposed to me the whole world of swingers, cucks, hotwives - communities that finally assembled and articulated my views on compersion, that antonym to jealousy, that excitement from seeing my partner flirting and/or going to bed with other men. So fuck yeah, I tried to meet him when I got to his town.  Partly because he's just become a powerful figure in my head but also just to thank him in a way I knew how: give him that experience of a real cock in his ass. Though we shortened the gap, geographical proximity always came into play as well as schedules as we were both arranging things outside of our respective relationships so things just didn't plan out. But I also suspect a large part of it was insecurity on both our ends on how it would play out.

So no, I honestly didn't know this was how we'd end up. I was completely off my game when I first opened the door to let him in. A bundle of nerves. He's someone I've been dying to meet for a long time. And when I found him to be just as hot as I suspected him to be, I was completely awkward. Handshake that quickly got aborted for a hug and kiss that was jerky and kinda missed the mark. I just wasn't quite sure how much I can get away with. I'd have sucked his face off and petted the skin off his body if I didn't hold back a bit and let things play out.

And the banter in between was completely him.  Absolutely congruent with the persona online. It's that weird duality of confidence of his own identity even as he expresses his short comings. It's almost as if he's defiantly self-deprecating as we compare cock size and take pictures. His incredibly masculine build, fuzzy chest and broad shoulders were proudly on display despite his own admonishments about his self-consciousness. And my cock resoundingly answered that whatever he is, the combination and conflicting messages were hot as hell.

Let me just say this, though.  The kid sucks a mean dick. And fuck, he's tight.  I know my cock.  It was once described as torpedo shaped.  Smaller at the base with a thick part in the middle before rounding out to the tip.  And as I tried to ease my way in, I felt his hole throb around my shaft.  I went in slowly, his body gripping me and trying to memorize each countour as I slipped in millimeter by millimeter.  Then I hit the wall.  I was coming up to the thickest part of my shaft.

"Is the head in?" he asks.

"You're a lot further along than you think!"

He's responding to that wall that we're hitting, that thick part that once you get past, your hole will suck the rest in, like with an anal plug.  I paused for a moment, waiting for that moment where his hole will ease up a bit and start to flower open.  And just when I felt that, I made my dick swell just a little bigger and then inched in just slightly and his hole did the rest, sucked the rest of me in until I was balls deep inside.

I fucked the cum out of him, pulled out and lapped his cum up from his body while he reflected on how he couldn't tell when his orgasm started or when it ended.  And when he expressed some concern that I didn't get off, I shrugged.  It was the furthest from my mind.  I was simply elated to have met him and even more thrilled that we got to play the way we did because honestly, I didn't plan it at all and no, I seriously didn't know that this was how we'd end up.

Friday, October 28, 2016

When bloggers meet...

"You knew this was how we were gonna end up, huh?"

I assembled a reply of assent to the largely rhetorical question before blurring out a guffaw that I stifled as quickly as possible but not before changing the angle a tiny bit and fucking my inches into him for emphasis. It was a move that borderlined the affected. The laugh, the swagger, the confidence that I could persuade a man to give himself to me and the little sway of the hips before I plunged it all into him... all a little more cocky and self-assured than I really was. To be honest, I wasn't sure if we were going to meet at all, let alone where we ended up: in a motel bed by his work with my cock buried inside him and me slack jawed in amazement that anything could feel as good, eyes feasting on the beauty that lay below me.

I've followed James ( http://jfbreak.blogspot.com/2016/10/meeting-bruce-gay-stuff-ahead.html ) on blogger for several years now. Half a decade? Long enough to move to his hometown and back out. I had commented on his blog a few times and then emailed him directly when I found that I was gonna move to his city. I completely ignored his advice on where to live, not without a little regret, but through the correspondence and the blog itself, I was struck my the level of his authenticity. A clearly strong voice, even as it expresses doubt or hope and a voice that challenged me to allow for another point of view that's completely not my own. I've never had a strong sense of bi-phobia, that sense that some gay guys get that bi guys just won't pick a side and are really just gay men in disguise, but at the same time I never also challenged my own spectrum of sexuality, never fully analyzed my own curiosities of the other sex despite my affinity to female breasts, and also never truly meditated on my views of fidelity.  He exposed to me the whole swingers, cucks, hotwives community that finally assembled and articulated my views on compersion, that antonym to jealousy, that excitement from seeing my partner flirting and/or going to bed with other men. So fuck yeah, I tried to meet him when I got to his town.  Partly because he's just become a powerful figure in my head but also just to thank him in a way I knew how: give him that experience of a real cock in his ass. Though we shortened the gap, geographical proximity always came into play as well as schedules as we were both arranging things outside of our respective relationships. But I also suspect a large part of it was insecurity on both our ends on how it would play out.

So no, I honestly didn't know this was how we'd end up. I was completely off my game when I first opened the door to let him in. A bundle of nerves. He's someone I've been dying to meet for a long time. And when I found him to be just as hot as I suspected him to be, I was completely awkward. Handshake that quickly got aborted for a hug and kiss. I just wasn't quite sure how much I can get away with. I'd have sucked his face off and petted the skin off his body if I didn't back away a bit and let things play out.

And the banter in between was completely him.  Absolutely congruent with the persona online. It's that weird duality of confidence of his own identity even as he expresses his short comings. It's almost as if he's defiantly self-deprecating as we compare cock size and take pictures. His incredibly masculine build, fuzzy chest and broad shoulders were proudly on display despite his own admonishments about his self-consciousness. And my cock resoundingly answered that whatever he is, the combination and conflicting messages were hot as hell.


Friday, October 14, 2016

Strokes

"You know what would really get me going?" he asks. Almost sheepishly, reluctantly. I could almost hear the conflict in his voice, afraid to request, afraid to insist on his needs as he's used to subjecting himself to the will of others. The bottom that gives himself wholly to a top. And as the beneficiary of such attention I'm honored to give as much of it back.

We had started from the moment I walked into the door with a soft but frenzied kiss. And try as we might to practice a little restraint to actually introduce ourselves and slice a little civility into the barbaric lust between us, we only came up with half-finished phrases, a dull dinner knife trying to pry apart magnets that splinter into echoes of fragmented conceits.

One thing was clear though. He focused a lot of praise on the objects of his affection to the detriment of his own self, comparables that always left him deficient despite his stunning good looks. Beautiful eyes of various shades that danced and swirled over the iris, drawing you in. Ginger scruff that complemented those eyes. Broad shoulders. Capped with muscle. And triceps that naturally bulge into an inverted U. Dusting of soft fuzz across his muscular chest. Oh, and a magnificent cock that probably more than rivaled my own, bigger in both girth and length even in a semi-aroused state. Basically the quintessence of masculinity and he can't even see it in himself.

So as he sung his praises in me, I did my best not to deflect but to accept his strokes of my ego and I used that energy to send it right back, whispering his name to make him feel it reverberating to his core (yeah, I see you kiddo...), soft strokes along his back, lengthy flicks of the tongue down his back to the mounds of his ass, and using just the feast of hunger as lube - long, deep and insistent strokes of my cock as I fucked him until I shot my load deep inside.

And here I am, spent and panting, the recipient of such affections as he gave himself to me and I haven't given nearly as much back. So when he strikes up the courage to ask me to help him get off, I take it as a sign that I've finally gotten through to him that he deserves just as much attention as he doles out. So I reply, "Yes. I want to know more than anything right now."

"I... uh... would love to have your cock in my mouth right now..."

My cock is glistening with natural juices from our play and topped off with a pearl of cum still oozing from the tip. And I shoved it down his throat for him to nurse as his cock instantly hardened to a stiffness I haven't seen before. As my cock hardens again down his throat, he strokes with an urgency until he sprays us with his load.

And that totally gets me going.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Can't, want

"I... I can't... I'm not ready..." he whispers, half in a plea and half in a sigh of resignation. He's conflicted, and it shows in his face. His legs are hooked over my shoulders and my cock is resting squarely against his hole with a mess of throat slime lubing him up enough so that my head starts to ease in. 

But I see it in his eyebrows, a semicolon of two opposing expressions of desire and concern, I read it between the lines that crease his forehead. He wants me inside him but he's afraid. He really isn't ready. Not in the sense that he hasn't cleaned out but in the sense that he isn't emotionally ready to give in to his desire. 

"Don't worry, kiddo. I get it," I say, playfully using the diminutive ironically as he's probably a half dozen years my senior.  And with a slight change in the angle of my hips, my cock slips from its target and glides up the valley between his legs.

His body shakes.  His legs tremble upon my shoulders from the explosion of sensation as I thrust the heat of my shaft against his ass. I want nothing but to put those pleading eyes at ease, to protect him from whatever harm he's trying to shield himself, and to also fulfill that desire that his body so desperately needs. I already felt it before.  His cock went from perky to fully erect by the time my cock hit his lips. And it went harder still when he felt my hands wrap around his head and force him down to deep throat me to the base. He wasn't overly experienced but he was a natural. And he has such deep needs.

So as I bucked my hips in a wave of motion, letting him feel my pass his hole at every ebb and flow, I leaned down.

I get it, kiddo.

And I kissed him. 

His whole body seemed to draw me in and in just mere moments, I felt him shudder as he came hands free. Just that extra touch of us chest to chest, lips to lips as his legs wrapped around to accept more of me set him off. 

And it was exactly what he needed.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Recognition, changes

It's been years since I've been here. It's an adult book store adjacent to a strip club and for some reason, I always remembered it being a lot closer to the freeway. Figured it'd be a quick pit stop on my way back from work. I usually take the train into work but I was needed at one of our other offices and I'm simply just not used to driving in traffic anymore. I needed a break from the stop and go. I needed some relief. It wasn't even all that bad by LA standards, an average of 30 mph but I had another 40 miles to go and the monotony was getting to me.  Then I came up to the exit for the bookstore and memories flooded back and FelchingPisser's recent tales at the bookstore near his hood came to mind and I decided to pull off and make the stop.

I've only been to this place half a dozen times. What struck me was how unapologetic it was about being a space for guys to get off. There were paper towel dispensers in each booth of the video arcade. All of them had glory holes, which looked less like vandalism but intentional features from the proprietor.  Some booths had electronic windows that would go opaque or clear so that you can see the occupant next to you. It was practically a bathhouse maze.

But that was then. Now, the air was different. The configurations seemed different too. Less cruisy, more proper somehow.  The etiquette seems to have changed and I'm adjusting to determine the rules of the subculture. I had spent five bucks at a booth without a door. Guys came by just to peer in and flee in horror when they saw me openly stroking my cock to the vids. Only one guy, a handsome, stocky but muscular Latino came into the booth to grope and stroke for all of two seconds before moving on. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to follow or not.

I fed a machine that was already running and saw a curious guy in the next booth through the glory hole. He peered through the hole to watch me stroke, obviously interested, so I pushed junior through just to get a rather awkward handjob. I pulled out to motion for him to push his through, but he whispered that he already came. 

I was a bit baffled. It seemed like this was for strokers, but private stroke sessions through a glory hole. 

I walked out of the booth trying to figure things out and literally bumped into someone I know.  A platonic friend.  Completely social. We brushed shoulders as I had walked out in a daze. We both smiled at each other for a moment before my smile faltered. I believe the thought process was:

"Oh fuck, it's Jim."
"Shit!"
"What the fuck is he doing here?"
"Oh yeah, he lives in this neck of the woods..."
"He's actually looking pretty good in that work polo, with his company name embroidered over his left chest."
"Hm, I wonder what he looks like naked..."

That whirl of thoughts happened in all of a second before we heard a voice over the PA system, "You can't just stand around. Go to a booth and feed the machine."

I was startled. And kinda blushed since I know the attendant was talking about us.

I went into a booth and half-heartedly closed the door, leaving it unlocked. He saw what I did and followed behind me. 

I smiled broadly and looked at him. He smiled back. But there was a blank quality behind it. I realized, through the darkness, he didn't recognize me yet. 

The guy in the next booth was peering at us through the glory hole. So I whipped it out and started stroking. Jim took over for a second. Just long enough for me to fish out his cock and stroke his. He basically confirmed what i had found out. This was pretty much just a tug and go kinda place.  Then, quite shakily, in a voice of pure need, he hoarsely whispered, "Could you sick it?" And then he added, "Please?"  A voice of pure need and desire that was so out of character for him, a guy I've known to be so laid back and reserved. 

I fell to my knees, angled him so we could put on a good show for the guy next door, and licked the length of his shaft. It quickly grew to an impressive size. A solid eight inches at least. Another quite astonishing fact as his personality lends itself to being very modest and slight.

He moaned a long sigh of as I worked him slowly to the back of my throat, undulating my tongue against the bottom as it slid down. Then I formed a nice seal and sucked him hard before releasing it and letting the drool form and pool to let the weight of his shaft slide back out of my mouth. I continued, varying the technique. Up and down. And he lost his inhibitions and started to face fuck me. A long and thick shaft crammed down my throat. Pulling all the tricks out of the book until he ripped my head off him. 

I took that as a queue that he wanted to return the favor so I stood up but he simply stroked me.

Fuck that.

I went back on my knees and inhaled him. 

"Wait, wait, wait..." he whispers.

I let go for a second to ask why only to have him spurt in the air.  What a waste. I took him back into my mouth to get the last drops before he got hypersensitive and tapped my shoulder.

And as I stood up, he could help but laugh. The sign of a happy customer.

As he started to pull up his pants and make himself presentable, he asks, "So where do you live?"

"Jim, it's me."

He laughs again, "I kinda thought so but I wasn't sure. It's kinda dark in here."

"No worries. And I got a haircut. And I'm never on this side of town."

"Yeah, that confused me!"

"It's all good. See ya Wednesday!" And I left the booth to head to my car.

I wasn't sure what was gonna happen later in the week when our friends were getting together for dinner. Things evolve. Just as the arcade became desexualized to a degree, my relationship with Jim was gonna change to one that muddled the lines of casual friendship and conversely become more sexual.

Interesting how things change.

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

To the top

He's carrying the leather case he grabbed from the garage. He says it's a stick for his billiards league. Makes sense that he'd grab them from the heat of the car but for a moment I wondered as it could have been a musical instrument... Or a small rifle... The things that go through your head as you follow a random hookup up a staircase. His story probably checks out as he's in the gayborhood and there's plenty of bars around but still, the pulse that's already quickened in anticipation of hooking up hits a new high with the uncertainty. Additionally, we both couldn't host in the traditional sense so we settled on doing a quick meet at his place and going up the stairwell to the rooftop. I'm hyper-alert, hyper-sensitive.

I suspect we are both partnered but play on the side. Yet another backstory that I make up in my mind, a story as we ascend another story, another landing up the stairwell, things that are calculated and weighed in my mind as I take one step and then another to whatever might lie ahead at the top of the deck.

The air doesn't help any either. It's warm out and the air is trapped in the stairwell, hotter by several degrees every flight of steps we take up.

As we reach the top landing, my heart is pounding in my ears. The physical exertion, the anticipation of getting my hands on this handsome man, the heightened alert to avoid being caught in a public space, the complete loss of control of what may happen at the top of the stairs. I'm hard as a rock in my shorts as I take a brief pause, enough for him to turn around to face me, before I push the mountain of a man against the wall and greedily seek his lips and force my tongue down his throat. No small feat as he has several pounds on me and a third of a foot in height. The surprise in his frame melts as we connect and his hands wraps around me to fold me into him. All of me. I'm engulfed. He's massive and strong.

His hands wander down to squeeze my ass and my lips curl up into a smile as we make out. Yeah, he's another top. I knew it going into it. We've tried to connect several times but timing never worked out as far as finding a hosting bottom to tag team.

Then he starts petting down my front with his meaty paws, grabbing at my hard cock through the fabric and frantically trying to free it, lustful fumbles, until he finally gets my fly down and pulls my cock free over the band of my briefs. A grunt as he admires the sight of my proudly pulsing cock in the thick, warm air and then he engulfs it with this throat in one swoop. I pull at the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head in a yoke as I grab his head and force it down. He has incredible control with his tongue. I feel it undulating over my cock as it slides to and fro, pass his gag point and down his throat. My fingers tighten over his head, piercing themselves onto the buzz of his shaved head as I fuck his throat. He takes it easily but in a few moments I rip his head off and push him back against the wall to make out again and fumble at his belt. I'm less successful. A failure really. He assists at unbuckling himself and shucking down his shorts.

He's equally massive under his shorts. I might have beat him a little on length but he has me on girth. Maybe doubly so. A meaty column, a beaker of meat that I anxiously oval my throat to try to pour the contents down my throat.

I feel like I'm all teeth but he lets a big moan out before stifling it, realizing where he's at. Grabs my head. Starts a full on face fuck before suddenly letting go.

"Too good. You're gonna make me blow."

I don't acknowledge his comment but to take over the face fuck and impale my throat his cock, bobbing up and down, salivating and letting the drool fly as I pierce the back of my throat with that thick unit.

And then I feel it. That stiffening of the meat in my mouth. The recoil. But I only get a slight taste as he fucks the orgasm down my chute. Just a small taste. The rest went straight down.

I kneel back on my haunches to catch my breath. Drenched in sweat now. Mine and his. Slobber all over. And as I look up from that position, I see that wry smile that I know so well, the smile of a top that's just dumped an amazing load. And I get kinda shy.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Blog-cation

I've always gone through cycles of greater activity on this blog to less, but this time feels like an especially long trough. I think a large part of it is I just got a lot going on. Moving, new job, stuff like that. Then when faced with the choice of fucking or writing about it, I generally choose the former.

But there's another thing: my relationship to the blog has sorta changed in some interesting ways. I remember on the onset, I just wanted to capture those beautiful moments with a trick. Honor that delicate moment that spans such a comparatively small amount of time and immortalize it. Those little moments of discovery. That achingly human side of what people normally cast off as so trivial and frivolous - the hook up. And honestly it was refreshing to just unleash like that being a guy that's not generally open about that sorta thing to his friends.

Recently, I kinda feel like things have changed.

I made a New Years resolution to only jerk off during sex. No more solo moments of me with tumblr on one hand and my dick in another. My cum loads were kinda bleh and I figured I'd be backed up firing massive loads if I didn't jerk off so much. But it kinda had the opposite effect. I just ended up fucking a whole lot more. Holy crap! I've been traveling for work so the opportunity was there more. I gotta say, though, part of it was also me wanting to find great experiences to write about. And that kinda feels weirdly inauthentic. It's like a cultural anthropologist mucking with the new group of people he's trying to document. How much of it is real and how much is created?

I'll still be writing, but probably not as frequently as I have previously. And I'll be using the other formats as well. I've been posting more visual content on Tumblr and occasionally throwing short thoughts/blurbs on Twitter. Feel free to stalk me across platforms. Ha!

So... How much have I been fucking around? I kinda wondered that too so as you may have remembered, I started to keep a spreadsheet. At the end of June, I looked at it and thought, holy cow. Ha! Time to spend more time focusing on other things besides my dick! Well, just a little. Cause my dick gets into a lot of fun and I'm cool with that. Ha!

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1PZPdpnUG4fC0N9Ck7yLwh0JkRjeMgbGBncet3VOlbC8/edit?usp=sharing

More to come! Including a meet with a fellow blogger from NYC!