Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Snapshot: Letterbox

The one thing that sucks about digital panoramic pictures is it always ends up being letterboxed.  So you have all this rich detail but it still fails in trying to capture that human experience, no matter how many zeros and ones you toss at it.  And then sometimes, as much as I can sense everything in the peripheral with my own eyes, I am confounded by how limited my vision is.  Every now and then I am acutely aware that what I see is eclipsed with physical limitations and those limitations are aptly expressed by the alienating black bars that cut me off from others.

I'm in the house of a bi guy in one of those coastal orange county towns that makes me kinda surprised that the art on the wall is progressive and edgy.  At the same time, there's definitely two voices in the room that doesn't make me doubt his story of wanting some guy on guy action while his girl is out of town.  Like a tobacco pipe on a doily.  Or a five blade razor next to a tampon.  That sort of thing, fighting each other, objects bickering throughout the room.  If it's a charade to emulate the bi-guy mystique, then it's a real elaborate one.

I had to scoot things along after chatting aimlessly about the latest wave of "bro" movies involving chasing tail and binge drinking, from Animal House to the Hangover.  Kinda random, but I was trying to ease into it and the conversation made sense from what was showing on TV.  When it was going nowhere, though, I leaned in for kiss and grabbed his hand to lead it to my crotch.  The kiss, he deflected by turning away.  The hand stayed put and he kneaded the bulge that was growing under my shorts all on his own.  Funny thing was that he stopped deflecting my kisses after he got to suck me for a bit.  After just a little taste, all reservations were gone and he was all in.

But what really struck me, though, was after we got our clothes off in stages and after he gave me a rather toothy and clumsy blowjob, after I started to suck him and he went from rock hard to soft to hard again.  He was on the couch and I was on my knees in front of him and we made out for a bit.  Hard.  Soft.  Hard again.  I wasn't sure what was turning him on and what wasn't, but I placed his legs over my shoulder and worked a couple of inches into him while making out.  I had to break from the kiss to get better leverage; he was fucking tight as hell.  Making out loosened him up for a sec before he'd tighten up again.  And it's then.  Right then.  I see it.  I'm there on my knees, pulled back to get better footing, and I see it.  As I stared into his eyes, there's a sudden flicker and then he looks away for a moment.  I continue to tease his hole with the head of my cock.  Just a couple inches.  Enough, though.  Enough so that he turns back and looks into my eyes, locked unto mine, before his eyes roll back and he shoots his load.  Chest heaving.  Fully body spasms.  I'm not inside him too deep to begin with but his orgasm pushes me out and off.  And I'm here thinking, what was it that he saw, that he felt?  What is it that makes him disconnect?  What brings him back?  And what makes him shoot so hard he's still trembling.

I was so close.  So I just stood up and shoved my cock in his mouth and the fucker was still keen on sucking me, going ass to mouth.

And I came.

As we were both coming down from that high of spilling our ejaculate, I couldn't shake that momentary flicker in his eyes.  I'm never going to fully understand what he saw, what made him pull back, what made him crest over.  As much as my hands fumbled all over him earlier, physically peeling the layers back to unsuccessfully sense those unmet desires, my mouth awkwardly tumbled words out of my mouth as we lie there panting.  I probed him with questions and learned that he was raised by two dads, been with his girl for a few years, in this house for a bit longer.  And instead of words that caressed meaning and insight, they just echoed cold facts and I started to drift.  I started to just see myself sitting there, deluded with thoughts that I can see a person fully from their eyes when I'm not sure I can even see properly out of mine.

My field of vision is so severely letterboxed by ego.

Monday, December 29, 2014

Snapshot: Aidan McGillicuddy

"You probably don't even remember my name," he says.  I've just fucked the cum out of this stocky Irish ginger.  Or perhaps he's more of a strawberry blond, if there's a difference.  He's called himself versatile, but I'm pretty sure he said that so that I wouldn't be scared off.  I can definitely feel that he's more of a top.  Especially now, as things are awkwardly flying out his mouth, confessions that are tumbling out in a nervous way, exposing himself emotionally to an uncomfortably raw state, as naked as he is physically lying there catching his breath in the post-cum afterglow.  He had started with how he hasn't been fucked in a couple of years, how intense it was, how tight he was, how great it felt to give someone the reigns, then some words about his sexless marriage, and then some self-derisive words at how much weight he's gained recently...  And then the sudden realization that he's given so much of himself, more than he intended to and the embarrassment that comes along with it.  That's when he plainly stated the above.

That insecurity didn't fit well with him.  Stark contrast with the earlier confidence I felt when he aggressively pawed at me.

I tried to turn it around by making that statement sound absurd.  Whether I remembered his name or not, it didn't discount the fact that we had fucking insane chemistry where we both shot off pretty quickly.  Or maybe I'm just an ass and wanted to make him feel worse.

"Yeah, it was very Irish...  McGillicuddy?"  I remembered his full name, but I tossed McGillicuddy out because it was the first stereotypically Irish sounding name I could come up with.  I then rolled through the list of given names to settle on one that was equally ethnic.  "And you only mentioned your first name once, but I remember it well.  Aidan.  Aidan McGillicuddy."

He laughed... or rather we both burst out laughing and then he playfully tossed me a pillow at me.  Quick pause.  Then grabbed my legs and tossed them over his shoulder in a bold move, his thick-as-fuck dick chubbin' up again.

Ah.  There we go.  Mission accomplished.  Insecurities gone and he's back to his bold, aggressive ways.

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Snapshot: The resort fuck

It's my favorite position when fucking a horsehung bottom.  His right leg is flung over my left shoulder with the bend of that knee resting perfectly at the crest so that each time I fuck my meat into him, my shoulder makes his leg kick helplessly and involuntarily into the empty air.  His left leg is slightly raised but bent off to the side so that my right hand has clear access to grip his thick nine-plus inches in a firm handshake.  Our lips our locked.  My torso low.  I'm slowly working my left hand under him to pull him closer while simultaneously my weight shifts so that he's taking more and more of me, more than what the length of my cock can give.  I'm folding him unto himself and embracing his entirety while my dick fights to get deeper, both heaving myself against him and pulling him into me.

In short, I'm trying to consume him all around.

I'm in Mexico, but instead of taking in the local sights, I left my partner snoring in bed while I snuck upstairs to fuck this guy I met off Grindr.  Just a few inches taller than me.  Trim.  Incredibly limber.  Several shades darker than me.  He's obviously been taking advantage of the sun down here more than I have.

His kisses are hungry.  A perfect give and take.  And his cock is starting to drool.  The precum flows so much that I'm starting to give him full strokes to the rhythm of my fuck without realizing it.  Before long, his kissing becomes erratic.  Even the best multi-taskers can't process the amount of stimuli I'm throwing his way. Different directions pointing to the same target.  He breaks the kiss when his body tells him to pay attention to the line from my balls through my cock, gliding perfectly skin to skin so that every ridge of my cock is memorized by the lips of his ass and then interconnects deep within his buckled walls within his hole, perfect complements in grooves like a natural lock and key...  That line continues through, hits his prostate and reverberates straight on through his cock with my fingers sliding over the ridges of his cock, his grooves.  We are touching, caressing, inside and out.  And his body tells him that's all it can focus on while his kisses falter, his breath equally disconnected and he shoots.  And shoots.  Loose ropes, more translucent than white, but heavy in volume, shooting and oozing out of his cock while I continue to tear at his hole.

I force my face to his, tongue back down his throat, stopping him from any protest while I continue my assault and with one final shove I collapse onto him and use my one left arm to pull him deeper down to my cock as it amasses all the energy from my core and recoils to empty my nuts deep inside him.

What's a vacation without indulging in some of your favorite recreational activities?

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Tuesday, December 23, 2014


"Have you bred any guys lately?"

He asks that a lot.  Almost every time we chat online.  And I'm never quite sure how to answer that.  Does he really want to know?  He's clearly talking about barebacking, not just whether or not I've had any tail lately.  Usually, I'm more than happy to swap war stories.  The sexual side of me doesn't get aired out that frequently.  Hell, a large part of the cheating is the secrecy of it all.  Every now and then, I get a guy that curls up into my arms after taking a load deep inside his guts and we just let go and start talking.  You know, the whole "I-haven't-fucked-like-that-in-forever" talk that then leads to comparing notes and stories about the last encounter and then the one before that and the one before that.  Just a fellow pig, wallowing in our filth physically over the cold, wet, and smelly sheets as well as mentally as we let loose with stories of depravity.

But this guy... I'm not so sure.  I can't tell if he's trying to gauge how much of a whore I am before he commits to meeting again or if he's just airing out his thoughts and stories.  The funny thing is that he knows about this blog.  I'm not sure how he stumbled onto it but he had used the Google+ friend connect to give a discreet, "Hello."  So I'm not sure why I'm being so guarded.  I feel like a bit of a fraud playing so chastely coquettish.

But eventually we get to meet.  And fuck if I'm blown away each time (we've played three or four times previously).  Southern guy in his late forties, salt and pepper hair, with a tinge of restrained raspiness in his voice.  Beautiful light eyes.  And then that body...  Fuck, he's fit.  Not muscular in a way that strains against his frame in a top-heavy way, but completely toned and trim.  A guy that would lightly jog over to you at the finish line of a marathon and casually ask if you wanna go on a hike later, not a bit winded from running 26+ miles.  And that ass?  Don't get me started.  Beautiful round bubble butt that is completely firm to the touch.  I get hard just thinking about the exercises he does to get that ass in shape...  that amount of muscle control back there...

And when we meet, it sparks up that friendly kinship that is completely at odds with what I know he likes.  He has a penchant for young, twinkish dom tops that are just looking to use his hole to get off in.  Wrapped only, but otherwise no holds barred relentless pounding.  He showed me a video once: a young, hung top relentlessly pistoning into his hole while he squealed in delight.  And I mean squealed.  He's one of those guys that lose vocal control when he's getting fucked.  Just complete abandon with his gasps, moans, and cries for less/more/who knows?  It's just unintelligible screaming with no volume control.  Love a guy that just lets it go like that.  No theatrics, though.  It's real.  He's quite a restrained guy with that quiet raspiness.  But in bed, you get his legs in the air and his needs take over and he's just howling in both a begging and painful way.  And the change in pitch or volume or type of sound that comes out is always in tune with what you're doing.  One time, I even playfully put my hand around his throat to soften his cries and instead, that symbolic move of power made him whimper even more and harder and louder.

What he gets from me is different though.  We make out and I'm forceful, but complementary.  Sure, I drill him hard, but I also just push into him to the root and hold so that he can feel how deep I am, how connected we are.  I fuck the snot out of him, but I also slow down and let him feel the full length of my cock invading his hole.  I hold his arms down, pull his hair, grab him by the neck...  but I also repeatedly go down on him to suck him hard no matter how hard he tries to push me away.  He's usually soft while getting fucked so any attention to his dick makes him embarrassed, but I push until I feel him relent and let go of those self-conscious thoughts to just enjoy what I'm making his body feel.  And when we 69, I'm on top fully face fucking him and knowingly blocking out air passages until his eyes tear up, but I'm also giving him one helluva blowjob and I feel his dick respond to the abuse while I'm tearing up his throat.

And to an outsider, what's really different is that with me, we sometimes fuck raw.  For the second time, I had his legs over my shoulder, my cock nudging his hole and when I started to reach for the condoms, he held me tighter and used those amazing ass muscles to line up and start to open up to me.  That feel of a hole opening up to me is just irresistible and I sink in deep on one slow push.  Then came a lengthy bit of play while I traced every muscle in his body while I maneuvered him into the position that felt best for the both of us.  I love how compact he is and how flexible.  I can drag him across the bed and twist him about with little effort.  He's doing acrobatics.  I'm fucking hole.  And for the first time, I fucked the cum out of him,  I had to pause and suck him to the brink, but for the first time, he came while I was inside him and fuck if those muscles didn't squeeze tight.

And for another first since we've ever met, he just lied there panting, totally winded.  He tried to say something but it all came out in gasps.  I laughed and flopped down next to him, grabbed his arm, and pulled him over until he curled up into me, my one arm idly tracing random patterns up and down his back.  We chatted as he recovered.  Apparently he just came out of a brief relationship where, surprisingly, he was the top.  Then we started chatting about our regulars, his roommie.  My partner.  He admitted to not having read my blog in awhile.

Then, when we were about to wrap things up, he remarked with mixed amazement and disappointment that I didn't cum.

"Ha!  That's because I held off.  I could have easily cum in your ass," I said pretty casually.

His eyes clouded over a bit and he retreated a bit back inside himself.  That warm kinship between us throughout the night turned chilly and I was left thinking yet again, how much does he really want to know?

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Snapshot: The couple

"Did you cum in me?" he asked, maybe a little too loudly, a little too jovially (with a hint of accusation) for 3am in the morning, walking back into the bedroom.

I was making out with his husband in bed, under the covers.  The question sliced through the moment quite violently and it took me a moment to get my bearings to respond.  A brief chuckle from me.  For a brief moment I was wondering if I crossed a line, but quickly dismissed that when I recalled how they both made it a point to tell me that they were both on PrEP before we had headed out to dinner that night.  The story was shrouded in some elaborate story about insurance and liver tests, but the message was clear.  The chuckle actually came from a sudden flashback to a guy that noted with some disappointment that I'm not always that vocal when I cum.

"Yup," I responded.

"Fuck, that's hot.  I just shit out your load."

His husband groaned.

"That's real nice.  Did you really have to put it that way?"

"Oops!  Sorry," he said with a grin.  Or at least it felt like he was grinning, but it was way too dark to tell.  He casually deflected the admonishment in a way that told me that it's just routine usual banter between the two of them, that the words of reproach were trivial and harmless.  With that, he jumped back into bed, turned his back toward me and wiggled that amazing ass back into my crotch.

I was half hard.  I could blame that on the fact that I just came, or that we all had a lot of alcohol that night, but I knew it was something more.

I know that I'm describing the guy that's practically begging me for another load (or at least to continue fucking him to finish him off) as some flightly, adolescent type, but he's far from that.  We're all in our thirties, pretty well-established in our careers in technology.  He just comes at sex from a rebelliously direct approach, borderline both frivolous and mundane but vehemently liberal in an intellectual way.  Tall, scruffy faced but totally smooth from the neck down, as smooth as he is uninhibited about sex and what he likes.  A fellow pig that's unabashed about his activities,  No standard coy and chaste responses from this one.  And I love it.  I fed off it, manhandling him and twisting him about in several positions until I had him on his stomach and kneed his legs apart so that his back arched slightly and his ass raised in that perfect position to piston my load into him.

But his husband.  He's a completely different animal.  Animal isn't even the right word.  When we make out, it's sweet and tender.  His hands danced across my back softly but I nevertheless felt the lead weight of meaning behind them.  It's that beautiful moment between firm and intimate.  Someone you wouldn't mind handing the reigns to because you knew he'd take care of you.  Shorter, Asian, with a buzz cut that worked for him in a military disciplined sort of way.  I remember watching them C&W dancing and thought it was interesting to see the shorter one lead the taller guy but it all made sense now.

I had tried fucking the husband, but he was tight as hell and just shoving my long poker into him would be out of place with the type of sex he's into.

So there I was, half-hard having just shot my load, two incredibly hot guys in bed with me and I'm equally attracted to both of them for completely different reasons, both of them eagerly wanting to get off but having completely different styles of hookup sex, and to top it all off, all I could think of was something they told me earlier in the night: they never play together.  I took that responsibility of being the conduit between the two of them seriously but I couldn't reconcile how they wanted to have completely different types of encounters.  Fuck, I'm all for each of them individually but it's hard to play two different roles at the same time.  The taller one responded better to me having balls to the wall outrageously animalistic sex.  He practically shoved me off when I made out with him too long as it would have brought him off too quick.  His husband though, loved the long makeout session with us feeling each other up and as my cock teased his hole.  The attraction worked out between the three of us in a surprising way.  Very surprising.  We were all definitely into each other.  And I get it.  It's hard when you're in an interracial relationship with one guy taller one guy shorter, one guy scruffy and the other clean shaven, etc to find a third that works out.  One guy in the triangle inevitably has the weaker connection.  But that wasn't the case here.  I just lacked the skills to bring us all together harmoniously, despite all my experience with group play.  This was different.

We all ended up getting our fill, but I finally dozed off with my own words of reproach echoing in my head, words that I couldn't deftly maneuver as trivial and harmless...  well, not until the next morning at least.

Friday, December 19, 2014

The stall

I'm getting old.  I'm starting to take a lot of comfort in hiking the same old trails instead of doubling back to explore the ones that have started to grow over... and am even more disinclined to blaze a new path.  But, to my credit, there are few areas that have been left unexplored, few sexual limits, especially from my younger years.  And here I am with my cock buried balls deep in a hot guy that I got bent over in a toilet stall of some fancy hotel and all I can think of is how hotter it'd be if I were fucking him missionary style on a bed.

I remember a time back in college where I would cruise the tea rooms and would get rock hard just being in a semi-public sex-charged environment.  Hell, it was in a similar stall where I first found out what an amazing blowjob felt like.  The term "expert cocksucker" was flung around with absolutely no meaning to me until I was 20 and this guy sat on a toilet with his pants bunched around his ankles while he sucked me to the point of climax before I even realized I had my dick out.  I was never able to cum from oral alone until I met this guy.  Six years of putting my dick in different mouths and he was the first to make me cum like that.

But now...  I'm hard.  I'm buried in a really nice ass.  And I'm totally frustrated.

I tried kicking his legs apart to get the right height, but was defeated by the shorts cuffing his ankles.  I tried pushing him forward a bit, but was blocked by the toilet.  The hem of my shirt kept getting in the way of me watching my cock slip in and out of his hole, so I just took the fucking shirt off and slung it behind me over the stall door.  I was making a lot of noise and the shirt would have been a dead giveaway if anyone were to walk in but dammit, I'm trying to get my fuck on and it's not quite working.

I collapsed on his back and reached around his front.  Fuck, he had a dense wiry mat of fuzz on his chest.  I grunted some sort of approval and some sort of anger that his tank top was getting in the way.  And as I did so, I felt how he responded to being man-handled.  There was a need there that I was more than willing to exploit.

Back upright, I used my knees to buckle his, grabbed a fist full of hair and used my other hand to press down on his lower back so that he was obscenely arched in an impossibly ridiculous and awkward pose while I used the leverage to pound his hold.  He loved that.  He started to pound his meat furiously while I assaulted his ass.  I wasn't anywhere near cumming, but I was getting off on him getting more and more turned on the way I used him.

He started to sway on his feet, knees locking and buckling.  He damn near flung me off.  He was at the cusp, so I bent over and grabbed his chest and gave one final shove while my arms pulled him down to my cock and he exploded.  Weak-kneed, I was struggling to hold him up.  If you couldn't tell by the way, I was trying to maneuver him, he was a half a foot taller than me.

I pulled out.  The used condom squeaky clean, which was a surprise.  I mean, it was the wee hours of the morning and I wasn't sure how prepared he was gonna be for a fuck.  We were both horny and checking out Grindr but also both with our partners in the same hotel so the obscure bathroom at the back of the hotel was the only place to play.  Even with the impromptu meet, I give him props for being clean.

I jostled around the small stall to unlatch and get out, leaving him there, his back still to me and panting as he leaned up against the side wall.  The beautiful, scruffy face of a guy almost a decade my junior glanced back at me.  I nodded at him and then bailed, thinking "Fuck, I wish we had a bed."

Monday, December 1, 2014

Snapshot: Quick face fuck

I was completely naked with his head in my hands.  He was squatting, knees hovering above the hard ceramic floor, tangled up in his shorts, still deciding if it was worth it to drop his knees to absorb some of the assault down his throat.  Shirt still on.  Barely three steps into my hotel room before I made him drop to his knees and take me into his mouth.

He had one of those perfect throats that seem to fit my cock in such a way that I feel a warm soft caress throughout the length of my cock, but the pace was off.  And I couldn't get quite as deep as I wanted.  My hands started to dig deeper, ten pressure points starting to massage his scalp and a blunt palm mashing his ears to his head.  His head felt heavier and heavier as the last of his will was silently passed over to me in a soft sigh, prayer position.

I rewarded with him impatience as I growled my dissatisfaction that even in his total submission he could not accommodate the curve of my cock.  With a sneer, I ripped the object of his idolatry from his throat.  Gave my cock a few quick strokes along the full length as he flinched from the gesture, mocking his failure, a flinch from a deep embarrassment. Not the one of automatic response like when I pulled my cock down and let go to have it stiffly rebound and slap him in the face.

He tried to catch it, but my grip from my other hand was too strong and he just opened his jaw to accept the abuse.  My hips aimed for his lips, found its target and then I mashed against his face for a couple deep pumps before I let my load squirt down his throat, as far as I could lodge my inches down his throat as it resisted.  And I spasmed, almost dislodging myself from his lips before he sucked with all his might to keep me in.  He surely felt the other volleys of cum I was blasting against his wet tongue.

And I felt him too.  I felt the wet slime against my calf.  I heard the heavy splatter as the cum that collected around his hand fell to the tile floor.  I don't think he was even stroking.  Just holding on while I took control of the face fuck.

And he looked up at me when I shot him a wry smile that silently flung names at him: dirty cock-sucking cum-whore bitch.  Who else would climax instantly from the taste of cum?

In one move, my palm partly slapped him and partly patted him on the head.  I nodded to the door, silently kicking him out while I turned away to clean up and get on with my day.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Snapshot: Supersoaker pride

I was a little embarrassed.  I barely fucked him for a minute before I felt myself lose control and shoot my load into his ass.  But he was unperturbed.  My cock was starting to deflate a little in his ass when he asked, "Wanna see me shoot?  I cum a lot..."

It was a point of pride, it seemed.  Very uncharacteristic of him.  Late twenties, a swoosh of hair in front and nicely trimmed all around.  Bearish build and neatly dressed in what I had mistaken as the ironic statements of an indie rocker.  He actually made his living studying classical music.  But when we first chatted up on Grindr, he was really modest and self-deprecating.  Full of earnest eagerness that was more youthfully sweet than alarmingly stalkerish, so that one sentence was a bit of a departure.  I should have been prepared, but I wasn't.

"Fuck yeah," I encouraged.

With that, he took his raging hard cock that didn't seem to deflate at all since he walked in the door and barely tugged at it for a couple of strokes before I felt his ass tighten around my cock and his whole body squeeze and bear down before he fired a comet of trailing emissions straight up into the air, almost hitting the ceiling.  Then four more volleys in rapid succession.  One was sent at an angle and hit the headboard as he was in the middle of a downstroke that pointed the nozzle precariously at his head.  And they weren't thin streaks but heavy loads that made audible sounds as the splattered the sheets and the walls.

Holy fuck!

My dick twitched in response and I leaned forward a bit 'cause I thought it was over.  Maybe my cock twitch hit a button but then another shot flew out hit me smack in the face.  In fact, a bit of it went into my eye and it fucking stung like a bitch.

We were both laughing a bit as he was coming down from his orgasm and as I used a hand to wipe my face...  and get a taste.  We both shot off pretty quick.  My chuckles were those of embarrassment, but they were also in large part guffaws of stupid wonder.  He's just that good and deserves every bit of pride he hinted at from that one last warning.

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Musings: Hot tub revisited

So anyone else successfully fucked in a pool or hot tub?  I'm pretty sure the only reason it worked in my last entry was the silicone lube that was still clinging to our bodies, cause water is the fucking anti-lube.

I have some notes jotted down from a sex party I attended awhile ago.  I think it was the beginning of summer and it was an evening party.  I was taking a break from roaming the rooms and there were a couple of guys just hanging out at the hot tub so I joined in.  Of course, I chose the spot right next to hottest guy there, a furry faced, hairy cub and engaged him in conversation, pulling my nice guy act.  Turned out he was a recent grad from the local university and it was his first time at the party (the host throws one about once a month in the summer).  We ended up snogging in the tub for quite awhile with the others just chatting around us.  Then I made my move and used his natural buoyancy to pull him up and over onto my lap.  I was still sitting in the tub and he was in my lap, my smooth chest against his back as I reached around in front of him and ran my hands across his hairy chest to tweak his nipples a bit.  And as I was chewing on his neck and holding him tight to my chest, my cock aligned itself to his hole and I pulled him onto it.

But it wouldn't budge.  It wasn't him.  He was clearly up for it as he grabbed my thighs and tried to impale himself further on my cock, but it didn't work.  Spat on my hand a bit but the viscosity of spit would immediately wash away when my hand dipped into the waters.  And since I had been kinda playing for awhile at that point, I was hoping that my precum would start to flow.  And maybe it did a bit, but once again, not enough to resist chlorinated waters from dissolving it to useless vapor.  But still, it was nice to just revel in that lust and need for awhile.  Nothing rushed.  Just playful.  And we were still just chatting it up, me answering him softly directly into his ear.

Shortly after, another guy joined the activities and then took my cock in a death grip and guided it to his hole.  Whereas I played it nice and coy, he was all action and it kinda threw me off.  It kinda conflicted with the nice chill atmosphere where guys were just bullshitting in the tub and idly playing with each other.  Hell if I was gonna refuse a hot ass, though.  Ironically, despite all the water around us, it was worse than a completely dry fuck.  It felt like his ass was trying to scrape off three layers of skin as he backed up into me.  It just didn't work.  Didn't stop the guy though.  He just went down the line trying to get every guy in the hot tub to fuck him despite the physics of it all telling him it wasn't gonna work.

And that's not the first time I tried to fuck under water.  So maybe the fact that it actually happened with ImpossiblyTallDude is why I have the event so romanticized in my head.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Snapshot: Hot tub

It's been a couple months but a single-line email from him, an email requesting a repeat visit, sent a memory flooding back to my mind so sharply I almost cried out, so thick and real my tongue swelled and I could almost taste it, my fingers not feeling the phone as I gripped it tighter but feeling instead his warm flesh and a general sense of warmth around me.

The memory was a moment.  Not of borrowing a car just to get to him with my car in the shop, not of his impossibly tall six-feet-and-some-unknown-gigantic-inches height topped by a impossibly handsome and freckled angular face, not even of the hunger of our kisses or my raw inches first sinking into him.  It was actually a moment after we disentangled our bodies from each other, our bodies sticky from lube and cum, catching our breaths as we sprawl out on the bed he shared with his partner.  I'm not even sure whose cum it was.  Mine?  His?  Both?  It was the moment after, when we decided to check out his hot tub on a deck that overlooked the ocean.

It was there that easy conversation led to fervent kisses and before I knew it, I wanted him.  I wanted him mine.  I pulled him up and turned him around so that I was hugging his back, kicked his legs apart in the water, and then folded him over until he was bracing himself on the edge of his tub.  Both of us with warm waters swirling around us.  My hands trace his long limbs as I stand on my tip toes and line my cock to his hole.  A brief resistance from his hole.  Then the silicone lube that resists being washed away in the water takes over and I glide in.  Resistance cancels resistance.  I barely notice that I'm on my toes as the water lifts me up to his impossibly tall and lanky frame.  My hips struggle to pull back from the suction our bodies create in the water, but when it does I'm acutely aware that the source of the vortex and undertow between us is my hard inches cocking back the hammer before it pistons forward.  Pretty soon, rough waters form as my violent assault on his hole shakes everything up and we're pitched forward and back, side to side.  My nails dig into his hips.  He struggles to remain in place.  The coarse concrete and stone texture that's meant for safety so that you don't slip instead starts to slice into the balls of his feet, the hands as he maintains balance, his shins as the force of my fuck propels him forward and the rough seas jostles him to and fro.  And then it all escalates to that moment.  That moment where the rhythm of my fuck harmonizes with the peaks and troughs of this little pool around us.  Rough seas become gentle waves.  And every time my hips crashed into his, it was with the rolling weight of an enveloping tide behind it.  A cloud of warm hands directing me how to fuck and how to fuck him completely.  I'm fooling myself thinking that I was ruling the majestic fuck when instead I was just a pawn.  He was being wholly fucked by everything around him, but there are worse things to be a slave to.

Too soon, that moment was disrupted.  As much as I wanted to bathe in its beauty, I wanted power back.  His ass was no longer mine.  We both gave into something else.  Toweled off quickly.  Back in bed.  And I took back control and fucked my load into him.  Or did I fuck a load out of him before crapping out.  I honestly don't remember.  That moment in the tub where we were perfectly aligned, or maybe perfectly ruled, with this power that completely surrounded us...  that overshadowed any other memory of that night.

So here I am, clutching my phone and remembering that sublime moment before I quickly send off a reply:

"Fuck yeah.  When are you free next?"

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

DC - The epilogue

So, it didn't stop there.  When I got back, my partner was out of town.  So TooFarCub picked me up from the airport and drove me home.  That is, after a detour at his apartment where I decided to be a little nice and gave him a blow job.  And then used his cum to reverse felch him, using it as lube to fuck my own load into him.

The day after?  Well, I met The Bartender at the bathhouse and spent the day with him, including fucking two loads into him and eating him out for so long that he was trembling and sweating.  We were supposed to find guys to tag team him but he was a wreck after that.  Instead, I spent another couple hours where I convinced an Italian top to let me play with his hole and basically got the head in before he got so turned on he shot.  Then, as I was relaxing in the tub, I was chatting with this middle school teacher.  Fuzzy faced.  Could tell he had a bearish build.  I slowly worked grabbing his hand and pulling it to my crotch in the middle of platonic conversation.  He got the hint and asked if I wanna cool off and talk outside a bit.  Well, I ended up bending him over a plastic lawn chair outside and fucking him bare with the cool breeze making my wet nuts tighten up.  I got pretty vocal when I was about to shoot and he sensed it and was about to pull off but I greedily and firmly grabbed his hips and pulled him back into place.  And as much as I don't think he wanted me to cum inside him, my move to hold him in place really turned him on and he immediately started spasming around my cock as he came and in one final shove, I pushed him deep and unloaded.  First time I did that.  I generally don't like fucking with a guy's head and making him worry but I somehow knew he wanted it.  Or maybe more accurately, I was past the point of worrying about his needs and focused on my own.

And then to round out the week, I fucked Muscle "Pussy", fucked a Grindr guy that said he just wanted to suck me off, and swapped blow jobs with The Other Cop.

18 guys in two weeks.  I was kinda all fucked out at that point.

And usually, I like to wrap my posts around a central thought or insight.  This time?  I just wanna brag.  Ha!

Sunday, October 26, 2014

DC - Part IV, V and VII - There's just no explaining...

So one of my fellow bloggers (and, unfortunately, I don't remember which) remarked how Grindr has made him hyper-critical, making it so easy to fault one impersonal pic to another with a casual flick of a swipe.  And I can't fault a guy for trying to be efficient in finding a match, but I know what he means.  With all the different angles, you can't possibly find the perfect puzzle piece of desire within a short tag line.

For example, here I am fucking guy #4.  Wrapped, but that wasn't the issue.  Older guy, but that wasn't the issue either.  In fact, he was hot as hell.  Hot body.  Kisses well.  But... he smelled of chemicals.  And as I'm drilling it into him, his eyes are peacefully closed.  Not tightly squinted.  Just barely closed.  Eyebrows slack and devoid of emotion, but eyes darting back and forth like he was in the middle of a dream and it just made me wonder what he was envisioning in his head as he yanked on his cock and I maneuvered him to fuck him deeper and harder.  And the harder I fucked the harder he jerked until he shot off all over his stomach.

But then there's guy #5.  Older guy, not as fit, but really into me.  Extremely.  So much, it kinda turned me off.  And as I'm fucking him, he's smiling back at me in a way that makes me suddenly really self-conscious.  So I flip him to his knees and fuck the cum out of him.  Again, before I'm anywhere near done.

So then there's guy #8. He's completely up front about cumming quickly and calling it quits shortly after.  And it was in this interesting aggressive manner that he told me that perked my interest, so I cyber-stalked him a bit.  Turns out he's a closted former frat boy.  Kinda made sense.  I mean, there's a playful frivolity when I talk about sex with my friends while there's this tinge of aggressive vulgarity that was coming off him.  Kudos to him for being a bottom that knows what he wants and is direct about it.

I got him to my room and said fuck it.  I'm going for my nut immediately.  Quickly plugged him up and wasted no time fucking my first load into him.  And now it was him that wasn't anywhere near done.  So I kept going.  A short fifteen minutes into it, I couldn't hold back anymore.  A cum slick hole just feels way too nice and when I felt the corners of my orgasm building up again, I pounded the hell out of him fully expecting to be close to cumming and not wanting to be left there right on the edge and being forced to jerk it off.  Well, I was exhausted at that point.  I flopped over on the bed and for some reason, maybe it's ego, maybe something else...  I didn't wanted to end.  So I said, "Your turn now, boy" and pulled him up over on top of me.  He got the hint.  And before I knew it I was grimacing and trying to take it as he eased into me.  And fuck, if the boy knew how to drill a hole.  I was tossed like a rag doll from one position to another.  And he kept on going.  Not sure how long it was, but I felt like a fuckin' hour.  In the middle of which, he pulled on my flaccid penis, saying, "Why isn't this working?" Ha!  I let it go.  I didn't answer, but it was pretty obvious.  I used to be a bottom in my younger days but the switch flipped long ago and physically, it doesn't feel that great anymore.  And I know what it feels like to be a bottom and fuckin' love it.  And want it.  And even need it.  I get the itch every now an then.  But it's even more rare when a top can make me stiff from a good fuck these days.

And then the bizarre.  He's a dipper.  Smokeless tobacco.  Bottom lip puffy all night and constantly spitting in a cup.  Well, in the middle of fucking me he turns his head and spits a wad onto the fucking hotel carpet by the bed!  I must have given him a dirty look 'cause he was all like, "Don't worry.  It's good.  You won't get in trouble."  The fucker.  Something about the cockiness got to me and so I threw him off me and got him on his back.  Legs over my shoulders.  Just a couple of mock fucks, grinding into him and then I got hard and fucked him again until I marked his guts with my load and then tossed him out.  That kinda even surprised me.

And the "quick cummer" still hadn't cum yet.

Go figure.  I thought maybe it was that he wasn't into me in person.  But then he messaged me later that day and was asking for a repeat.  The laws of attraction are strange.  And yeah.  How can you verbalize it in a tag line, abbreviations, acronyms when sometimes you don't even understand what you're looking for and what you like?  So I keep an open mind browsing Grindr.  And even the bad meets make for a good story.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

DC - Part VI - Super Exec

I'm diggin' all the superhero flicks that are out these days because it feels kinda subversive the way nerdy things have suddenly become mainstream but it also bothers me a bit.  Mostly because it's indicative of this need we have to stand behind pure ideals.  Hero vs villain, good vs bad.  And it's worked itself all over our culture.  Staunch democrats and republicans, religious fundamentalism, total tops and power bottoms, subs and doms.  Not that those dichotomies never existed before, we just seem to have a larger respect for the extremes now.

And that's where I falter.

So I'm sitting here, talking to this guy on his couch when the conversation has pretty much dried up and the tent in my

shorts leads me down a path that I'm a little resistant to.  It's a momentary hesitation stretched out by the silence that violently sliced through the laughter and banter just moments ago.  But, simultaneously, it's an imperceptible pause as the rational tries to reason with physical instincts.  And the silence and the stillness plays with time like a yo-yo and that pause stretches to an alternate eternity before snapping back to the present.

It feels like it took forever to make my move 'cause I really, really wanna fuck my load into this guy.

Logic stalled me though.  And as much as people have called me aggressive or cocky or "intense", I still feel those labels fit awkwardly on me.  Like clown shoes.  And I hesitated.

I really don't think it's because he's some big c-level, ivy league hotshot.  He actually has very humble roots and those things never really impress me.  A job is a job.  It was more of the fact that I was here, in his living room, after a hookup just an hour or so before where the bottom shot off and called it quits way before I was anywhere near close.  I take awhile sometimes.  Even more so when I'm playing wrapped.  So after that little tryst, I fired up Grindr while grabbing a bite to eat and this guy hits me up.  In three messages, we set up a meet for an hour later (after I finished my grub) and he's given me his address.  As direct as we were in our intentions to meet, we were completely indirect about what are intentions were after we're supposed to get together.  Top?  Bottom?  Hell, I wasn't sure if he wanted to fuck at all.  So we started off chatting.  In person.  My mind processing how fucking hot he was.  The way he was completely at ease and open during the conversation making him even hotter.  When he asked why I was in the area, I blurted out the truth.  I was out there for a trick but I was still fucking horned up since I didn't get off.  No judgments.  None of that coy evasiveness trying to get into his pants.  Just the truth.

And a short moment later, the conversation stopped.  After that brief hesitation, I leaned in for a kiss.  Gentle.  Soft.  Slightly wet.  Enough to make me want more and I pulled his head by the back of his neck for deeper kiss.  The other hand, I fumbled his waist to find a belt loop and tugged him hard enough for him to get the hint.  His one knee going over to straddle me while I sat and sank deeper into his couch.  I'm sure he felt my throbbing meat under my shorts pressing against him, but I grabbed his waist and pulled him down and closer.  There would be no mistaking what it was now.

He pulled off the kiss, which I only used as permission to start licking and chewing at his neck like a blood thirsty vampire.  Breathlessly, he asked, "Wanna go upstairs?"  An earnest plead to go further that made me his.  Or maybe it made him mine.  Either way, I finally got a guy after the two previous attempts that I really clicked with.  And after we got upstairs, I feasted on his ass and he milked a load out of me as I fucked him before he shot off himself.  The way it should be.

As I was leaving, I saw a bottle of lube and some condoms on the nightstand.  He had this all planned out apparently.  Top/bottom.  Aggressive/passive.  Just labels.  In the end, we both wanted it and it was just a matter of letting the conversation flow as easily off our bodies and actions as it did verbally on the couch.  Maybe I innocently fell into his trap, letting myself be manipulated.  Or maybe I was leading the charge.  Afterall, the supplies were left untouched from our rough spit fuck.  It didn't matter.  What mattered was that he was happily wobbly from the fuck and I was so fucking drained and at peace I think I dozed off for a sec on his bed.  All those labels didn't matter.  Not when things just connect.

Friday, October 3, 2014

DC - Part X - The unexpected (again)

I was playing tour guide to a couple of friends from out of town and throughout the weekend I would suddenly find myself in very familiar surroundings.  I'd pass by the austere gates of a newly remodeled structure that a pervy studio exec I used to play with calls home.  Then the apartment building where one of LA's finest lives and lures dom asian tops to piss on him.  And the beach cottage a banker used to invite me to and then spend hours on his knees in submission.  Just a small break from the routine of work and home and back again and suddenly my life uncovers lost paths, slightly weeded over but still there, intersections where lives have crossed paths, amazing men that have etched their mark on my growth as much as I've marked them with my load.  Even in a big sprawled out city like LA, you still find moments when things seem to shrink to a thin warm blankie tucked around you.  So I guess I shouldn't be so surprised that I'd bump into another fuck bud in DC even though we were both miles from home.  A little bit of the unexpected...  again.

What was unexpected before was that a blurry pic would turn out to be this fuckin' handsome, huge and imposing figure that would just crumble beneath my touch and the treatment of my tongue on his nips.  And the PA was a bit unexpected to.  This time, I just couldn't believe that we were both traveling for work and happened to be a few miles from each other.  I had fired up Growlr and happened to check out my favorites when I saw that he was just a mere 15 miles away.  We made arrangements to get together later in the week when we'd both be less busy with work but when the time came, he messaged saying that he'd love to get together but he wasn't sure if he could bottom...  and that he'd explain later.

His story?  Well, I found out when I got there and after I had coaxed him out of his clothes.  I was propped up on the bed with his huge beefy man curled up onto my chest telling me this story:

"So it was a long day at work and I didn't want to hunt out good food and I didn't want fast food either.  Have had enough of that.  So earlier I had spotted this Indian food place across the street from this hotel.  I went straight back here from work so that I could just grab some food there and then crash.

"Well, I walked into the place and it was tiny.  Obviously more of a to go type place catering to the hotels in the area.  And I went to the counter and ordered my food and everything.  They gave me a number and I was just standing around when this guy that was sitting in the takeout area, you know, the area right by the door and register where they have a bunch of chairs and no tables for people waiting for their order or waiting for a table, well this guy that was sitting there that I didn't really noticed before said he could take it up to my room.  So I thought, 'Oh, that's nice.' I figured it was just the delivery guy and they saw that I was in my work clothes and eager to get out of 'em so they were just being nice so I just gave him my room number and left."

I knew where this was heading, of couse, so I interrupted him asking, "But did you make a lot of eye contact?"

"No!  I didn't even know he was there at first.  But he kinda said that I did.  I mean, I didn't think so."

"Was he hot?"

"No, he's not really my type.  That's why I didn't think I was giving him any signals...

"So anyway, I got back to my room and got undressed and was basically just in my boxers and undershirt when I heard a knock on the door.  I opened it and since I didn't have my pants on I backed up into the room to go get my wallet and give him a tip.  And he followed!  I thought that was kinda weird.  I mean, people usually don't just walk into your room uninvited.  But then I guessed maybe it was a cultural thing or something.  So I get the tip money and he puts the food down and gets right up in my face.  I was baffled.  I actually kinda got scared.  I was wondering what the hell I got myself into.

"And that's when he talks about how I was eyeing him and turning him on and all that stuff.  He starts grabbing me and stuff and then before I knew it I was down on my knees and he unzips.  Fuck.  Even soft that thing was huge.  It wasn't  long at all.  Maybe six inches at most but it was thick.  I couldn't even really suck him off.  And he got harder and harder and it just got thicker and thicker."

"True beer can thick?" I ask.

"Thicker.  I mean, as thick as my wrist and I'm no small guy.  And then he pushes me onto the bed and starts to try to fuck me.  Just spit lube fucking me.  I couldn't take it.  It hurt like hell."

"Did you like it though?"

"I guess..."

But there's no way he was forced to do anything.  He might have been knocked off his game by the surprise of it all, but if he didn't want it, he could easily throw a guy off.  No question about it, he wanted it.

"But I told him it was too dry so he used more spit and fuck he just hammered me.  Right from the start."

"Was it just the base that was thick?"

"No!  Even the head was big.  It really was like shoving a beer can in me.  Big fat blunt head on a thick bodied cock just hammering into me.  After awhile, I told him we had to take a break...  And then we start talking and he pulls out the Indian food and starts eating!  Turns out, he's not a delivery guy at all.  His friend just owns the restaurant, so he got my plate of food and he got his plate of food and brought it over.  So we chatted a bit and ate and then it was basically time for him to leave and since I was going to throw out my food, he took my plate too and left."

I laughed.  There's no way he was making all this up.  Every question I tossed his way he would basically say he had no idea.  The whole experience was kinda puzzling.  He just knew his whole was a wreck.  And he then started to talk about a couple of past fuck buds.  One that would massage him to the point where he was so relaxed he was putty in the guy's hands.  And when the guy started to fuck him, he couldn't even resist and it was so such a gentle fuck.  But there was no doubt that the guy was in charge and he was submitting.  At that point, I wasn't sure if that was an allegory for what he wanted from me, but I was idly playing with his nips.  He was stuttering every now and then and it barely registered.  I was lost in my own thoughts, thinking of him getting fucked relentless by a thick cock and then him submitting to a guy on a massage table.  His body broke out into goosebumps when I finally noticed.  We looked at each other and grinned.  He knew what was coming next.

I started to lap at his pierced nip, tonguing the ring and making it dance.  Then small circles with my tongue that made him moan.  My lips sucked at the jewelry and then I gently tugged.  Teeth nipping at the point behind the ring momentarily before letting go and repeating the cycle again.  Harder.  Harder.  And then it got to the point where I was chewing on his nips and he was howling.  And then he said it:

"No, no, no.  Stop!"

And I froze.  And then realized he wasn't making any move to stop me.  So I comped down even harder.

His legs flew up and wrapped around me.

My teeth let go and I was just hovering over his ravaged nip.  The hot breath as it danced across made him moan again.  And shudder.  And break out into more goosebumps.

I reached down to feel his semi, chubbed up meat and his cock was massively drooling.  I reached into a puddle of cock slime.

So I fed it to him.

His precum, his saliva.  All over my hand when I pulled it back, spat on it to add my own juices and slicked up my rock hard meat.

I bounced my cock...  no slapped it.  Over his hole.  I was letting him know what was coming up next.

I don't know if he was still sore or not.  I just knew that he wanted it as much as I did.  And I fucked him.  Slow gentle strokes after he got used to me filling him up.  Building up in tempo as he just stared back at me, slowly nodding, biting his lower lip.  I was trying hard to be the gentle lover he talked about.  But I couldn't help it.  Long strokes all the way in and all the way out.  I was too worked up to slow down.  Then I was fucking punch hammering him.  The way I was imagining a thick cocked Indian guy was doing the night before.  Slamming all my weight into him until my cock gave up the fight and gave up its load, shooting his guys with my spunk.

I collapsed on top of him as he started to laugh.  He wasn't sure he would be able to handle that so soon.  It was a week of unexpected events for him...  Just as it was for me that first night with him.  Just as it was tonight.  Two guys, completely at ease with each other and unabashedly reciting stories to each other.

He wasn't up for going out that night and hitting the bars like we originally had planned.  He was exhausted.  But I went out and sought out other like-minded men.  Unfortunately the DC Eagle was closed, in the midst of remodeling and moving from what I gather.  And I was roaming the city while some guy on Growlr was complaining that I was stringing him along.  All talk and no action.  He was actually really belligerent when I turned him down after trading pics and nasty talk.  Ha!  If he only knew...

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

DC - Part III - Drowning

I had inched so close, getting lost memorizing the speckles in the iris of his cool blue eyes, that our foreheads met.  My eyes shifted from one eye to the next and back again in rapid succession until the images merged together in my mind.  A big pool of blue with dark corals trapping the waves.  And as I tried to drown myself deeper into the blue, I felt myself cum.  Him on his back, one leg over my shoulder, the other to the side, my hand wrapped tightly around his cock that was still hard and dribbling a few remaining pearls of cum that collected at the tip before retracing the path of long ropes that had blazed before it, aided by gravity but fighting the grooves of each finger as it pooled and dripped and pooled again from the head of his cock to the first finger that encircled his wood over each finger to my pinky.  And then there was my raw cock deep inside him.  I spurted.  Once.  Twice.  Three times.  He felt each one and his eyes wavered, shaking the image of blue into ripples and breaking my reverie as a deep groan started to build up from deep within me.

I reared back. I roared.  A long moan that evolved as I belted out a deep cry.

The switch flipped and the stillness before gave way to a violent spasm starting from the tip of my spine and continued to a dozen hard thrusts where I wanted to mash my cock into him violently, flesh whipping into each other and turning to a rubbery emulsion.  Gritted teeth.  Angry thrusts.  Extended roar.  I could vaguely feel his bones protesting and trying to lash back at the onslaught.  All the frustrations of the previous meets where it was over before I could cum now ripping through my cock as I seeded his guts with my load.

And then my vision came back.  The handsome face stared back at me intently as I started to smile, hovering over him.  I let go and reached under his shoulders and my hands snaked up to his trusting face and my hands softly ran through his short cropped miltary style haircut and held his head in place before I slowly, sank back into him.  Lips upon soft lips.  Tongues languidly exploring before pulling back.  Slowly, softly.  I let it all go.

And he wrapped his legs behind me, accepting all of me.

Monday, September 15, 2014

DC - Part II - Liar's load

The thing about being a cheater, at least for me as a rather introspective guy, is that you tend to pick apart what people tell you when they're trying to get into your pants.  Sometimes I start categorizing things into truths, probable half-truth deceptions and utter fabrications and you just hope that the things that are outright lies are irrelevant.  Like a guy advertising himself as a bottom with a 9" dick.  Well, it'd be nice to stroke a big one while I'm fucking you but in the end, it's okay if you exaggerated a bit.  But only about the inches.  The bottom part would be a dealbreaker.  And this guy, who said he was married?  I think the natural assumption is that he's married to a woman but I actually really didn't care.  In this case, we had established that we're both tops but he noted he had a thick fat cock and I hope that part wasn't a lie because it's been awhile since I've wrestled in bed with another top, feeling him shoot a load in my mouth.  In this case, the thick cock piece was important.  And I really hoped that part wasn't a lie.

He came into my room and we immediately started making out.  Me on my toes, trying to reach his lips several tree branches above me.  And he was a good kisser.  I just had to look past the hint of smoke.  It wasn't fresh.  Or maybe it was just masked by the gum he was chewing on before he came.  But I could still taste it at the back of his throat.

And he was a bigger guy.  Bigger than I expected but that wasn't as important either.  After fumbling through the room and disrobing, he was big and thick where I hoped he was.  A solid 7" and thick as advertised.  As it chubbed up in my mouth, it filled it up every nook and cranny, every little air pocket in there.  Filled it up so my mouth was straining to open wide enough not to scrape teeth.  With most guys, I know when I'm using my lips as a constricting ring that strokes a cock up and down the shaft and when my tongue collapses against the shaft so you feel hot wetness the whole length of the shaft and the new ring that strokes your cock is the constricting one at the opening of my throat as the cock fucks itself deeper in.  Not with this one.  He filled up my mouth completely and I had to relearn how to suck, paying attention to the gasps and moans to know where I've hit the right spot.  And I kept at it until he shot in my mouth.

Fuck if that didn't taste nasty.  Bitter.  Acidic.  And his cock was lodged back in there so far I felt it going up the sinuses.  Gag.  Choke.  I practically vomited the stuff out.

I guess the lie here was the one I told myself when I said I wanted to suck a load out of thick cock.  Bleh.  I blame tobacco.  I usually love the taste of cum. 

Sunday, September 14, 2014

DC - Part I - The Latin cub

It wasn't until afterwards that I broke into a goofy, half-smile smirk.  I had logged back onto Grindr to see if I can find another guy to lose my load in...  or suck me off...  or even just jack me off before my balls turn achingly blue.  Almost an hour with a kid fucking around, didn't cum, and I was frustrated as hell.  His cum wasn't dry on the sheets yet, probably didn't even cool yet from boiling over deep within his nuts before I got a message from him on the app.  A really eager and hopeful request to play again.  Whereas I thought the chemistry was off, he couldn't be happier.  And for some reason that distinctly earnest offer in the context of all the mismatched expectations, desires and perspectives rather comforting and I drifted off to sleep, aching balls and all.  Or it could have been that it was late and I spent most of the day travelling and it all just caught up to me.  

I landed at Dulles in the late evening as much as I tried to streamline the process, I didn't finish checking into the hotel until after most of the surrounding eateries were closed.  I got a text right after getting out the plane telling me what stall my car was parked, caught a shuttle to it and then off I went, probably getting tagged by several toll road cameras for violations as I made my way through empty freeways to my destination, which apparently was a rather sleepy town where nothing is open after 8pm on a Sunday leaving me to a rather sad dinner of chips and soda from the vending machine.

I had posted and reposted an ad on Craigslist.  I've always had luck as a traveler with Craigslist.  Seems like guys are always hunting for fresh meat there, tired of the same old ads from the locals.  And maybe it's also because the visitors can usually host and you'll probably never see them again, which works great for some of the closeted types.  All the guys I had lined up, though, begged off by the time I got to my room being a school night and all.  So I fired up Grindr.  Almost immediately, a cute latin hair cub messaged me.

Beefy, scruffy, bottom.  Said all the right things.  And then some wrong things.  It was kinda sketchy.  He wanted another bottom to join in, which I normally wouldn't mind but I was kinda tired and didn't want some marathon session after what was already a long day.  He said it was a roommate and he needed a ride.  When I balked, he then said he could borrow his car.  This, that... a constant stream of questions that was all over the meter in terms of how serious he was and how close he was to actually leaving the door and committing to coming over.  Ride secured.  Then: "got more pics?"  "Whatcha into?"  "I can be there in 10 minutes"  "Do you have poppers?"  "Are you free later in the week?"  "I'm out the door, what's your room number?"  "Do you have poppers?"  "What's the meaning of life?"  "I'm in the elevator about to knock on your door." "Wait, could you confirm that you're a guy and that you have a functional penis?"  Things that probably should have been asked a long time ago where popping up at the last minute.  And in the meantime, the guy he wanted to do a threeway with also messaged me acting as if they're not roommates and that he barely knows the guy.  Sketch.

Then I opened the door to let a fuckin' hot cub into the room.  Good lookin' kid.  So thus started my own advance and retreat routine.  Maybe a couple inches taller, broad shouldered and solid type guy.  Scruff that would feel great scratching my thighs if I squeezed them around his head while he sucked on my cock (which I never really got a chance to do since he was all about fucking and couldn't concentrate on a single task for very long).  Thick uncut cock that tasted great as I worked my tongue under the skin but what I really wanted was his ass, a nice, round bubble butt that wrapped nicely around my cock.  I had him on his back and was easing it in, leaning in to make out with his beautiful full lips and instead got his neck.  We had made out before but for some reason kissing was suddenly off limits.  And then he wanted to change positions.  Cowgirl.  Reverse cowgirl.  Then the chair got involved.  Hunched over the arm.  Riding me while I was sitting in the chair.  Then back to the bed with me fucking his face with his head hanging off.  All scenes that would look good in porn but wasn't doing much for me.

It was time to put an end to all that.

I hopped on the bed, grabbed his legs and dragged him so his head was back on the bed.  Then took one leg to flip him over.  While he was still flat on his stomach, I assaulted his ass.  Figured he didn't need me to ease it back in.  I just went for it.  Grabbed his waist and leaned in to really go at it.  That then turned to me putting my hands on his lower back and leaning into that, pushing him deep into the mattress while I drilled him hard.  Different tempos.  Trying to find one that I liked most.  I wasn't quite getting deep enough.  I had my forearm across his shoulders, elbow digging into his back a little while I tried to go deeper.  Then sat back up and kicked his legs apart a little, making him arch his back just so.  He reached back to spread his ass.  That was it.  Long deep thrusts all the way in and all the way out.  I started to speed up and simultaneously lifted his hips so he's more on his knees and he took that opportunity to release his ass cheeks so that they bounced back together and he started to jack.  I was watching his ass bounce every time I slammed it home when I felt him shifting his weight and his ass start to drop back and then buck back up.  His back arching concave and then convex and back to concave again.  He came.  And once he finished, he was finished.

I flopped on the bed next to him for a bit.  Idly watched him dress before he made his final retreat.  Frustrated that I didn't cum.  Frustrated that I didn't take matter into my own hands sooner and fucked him the way I wanted.  'Cause I noticed a change when we were fucking.  He had wrapped himself up in layers of images in fantasy and as much time we spent trying to emulate those images in his head, they'd always be a weak interpretation.  In the end, it wasn't until we ripped off those layers to expose the raw desire and need that he got hard as a rock and fired his load.  When I pinned him down and took control, I made him to engage not in the images in his head but the reality before him.  My cock, his ass.  Two bodies.  Not two ghosts.  Not images.  Flesh against flesh for all the senses.  And his eager message to play again reminded me of that switch, that toggle where it all became real.  Really real.  Not posed recreations of fantasy.  And reminder made me smile.  Smirk.  And embark into my own retreat of contented sleep.

Friday, September 5, 2014

DC - Part VII - Gag Me

Okay, call me a purist but when a guy has a blank profile with no pic but with a headline noting how he wants to choke on a big fat piece of meat, I'm gonna be a little perplexed when he balks after finding out I'm a visitor and that I'm partnered.  I mean, "Gag me" isn't quite eharmony marriage type material.  But he sent me a slightly out-of-focus pic of a cute little cub (but never trust me when I talk about height  'cause I repeatedly find out that a guy I thought was shorter than me has parts that don't align with that assumption when I pull them in for a kiss) and I was hooked.  I wore his reservations down by sending him pic after pic in regular intervals of my cock in various angles during our chat until I could just send him a pic of a banana or a pen and he'd be salivating like Pavlov's bell.

He originally messaged me right after I had a mediocre session with a guy at a hotel.  I didn't cum yet, so I fired up Grindr in hopes of someone to take care of my aching balls.  I had a choice between this cub and another guy that was up front about his pic and address.  Good thing I did, though, 'cause the cub couldn't host.  Found that out over the course of the next day, where I also found out that he was a freaky little kid that loved oral, loved piss, and loved a dom guy making him choke on a schlong.  After coaxing him to overlook my relationship status, I finally got the kid in my room and gave him exactly what he wanted.  Well, almost exactly.  He was also turned on by geeky/nerdy types and being naked with contacts, I couldn't quite pull that look off.

I greeted him with a kiss when he walked in and I could immediately feel him tense up.  I don't think he would have issues with that normally.  He's actually a great kisser, but the whole partnered thing was still in his head.  So I just decided to get down to business and stripped him of his shirt that looked like it's been slept in for a couple of days and some cut-off sweats for shorts.  Fuzzy chest.  Same color as the wavy brown hair on his head.  And a dick that was just starting to chub up a little in anticipation.

I quickly shed my clothes and dragged him over to the bed.  I knew the making out bit wasn't going to go anywhere so with steady pressure on the back of his neck, I pushed him down until his lips met my cock.  And the kid was good.  He took me deep down his throat in one shot.  Pause.  Then started to suck me at a frantic pace.  I grabbed both ears and slowed him down to a temp that worked for me and he suction and slobbery wetness was great.  I'd hold him down on my cock every now and then until I could feel him struggling for air and he would snap his head back and take a deep breath in with just the tip of my cock still in his mouth.  Without even finishing his inhale, he greedily went back all the way down without any assistance.  He impaled himself on my throat.  Then slow strokes, deep throat, hold, let go for him to breathe.  The cycle went on and on and I kept him down on my cock longer and longer until he couldn't take it and started to gag before I let go.  Still though, with tears in his eyes, he'd go right back down and impale himself with cock.  The kid liked it.  He wasn't all talk.  He liked to gag.  His cock was just slightly chubbed up.  I thought it was from concentration.  But when I forced him and made him gag, his cock would twitch.

I pulled him off and dragged him to the edge of the bed with his head hanging over.  He knew what was coming.  I climbed off, stood at the edge with my dick bouncing near his lips, that deep throat spittle that I dragged out from him gagging dripping off the end of my cock, slapped my cock across his lips and told him to open up.

Then I face fucked him.

Four pumps in and then I fucked my cock to the back of his throat until his legs started to flail as he struggled to breath. And then I'd withdraw just enough so he could breathe.  His tongue instinctively mashed my dickhead to the roof of his mouth, preventing entry down his throat as he breathed in and when I felt his tongue loosen just a fraction, before he was even fully recovered, I started the sequence again.  My balls were slamming against his face, making wet noises as I made contact with the spit and tears my face fuck was producing.

He was fully hard now.  In fact, he seemed to get harder only when I was fully down his throat making him gag.  Gotta love a guy that digs having his throat abused.

I was deep down his throat.  Holding it down there.  When I grabbed his cock.  I felt it harden in my hand when he started to gag.  Instead of withdrawing this time, I instead fucked it in even deeper.  One centimeter mini-thrusts meant to just tickle and remind him what he had back deep down his wind pipe.  He really heaved and both hands tried to pry me off him but I stayed just one second longer and that's what it took.  He came.  No stroking.  Just me holding onto his cock that pulsed and hardened the more I kept it down there and the more he gagged.  And that's what made him cum.  After the initial shot I withdrew completely and let go.  Big deep breath in and a couple of coughs and then his body was twitching and writhing from another sensation, from his orgasm.  Small little spurts as his body finished cumming.

I flopped down on the bed.  My work done.  And he then slowly and silently curled up next to me with his head on my chest.  A little bit of pig, a little bit of tenderness.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

DC - Parts IX and XI

Nevermind what happened to parts 1 through 8 and 10.  I'll get back to that.  There was just something nagging me on the plane ride back from DC to LA and I wasn't sure how to get my mind to rest on the matter.

Fuck, DC was fun.  I ended up playing with 11 guys over the course of my five-night stay there.  I was fresh meat and I took full advantage of that.  I wasn't too sure though.  I remembered someone commenting on a blog entry I had written awhile back ago about a guy from DC I played with...  something about the "detached DC" tops and the attitude in the city (which you may find ironic coming from an LA guy).  Perhaps it was the fact that I was staying in the burbs rather than in the heart of the city itself, but I definitely didn't find any shortage of guys to play with and though it was a bit of a mixed bag, there were several highlights.

One of them was #9, a hot-as-fuck solid built former military guy complete with the crew cut and everything.  He saunters into the room with hands clenched into fists.  Big.  Imposing.  A little over six feet and well over two bucks worth of solid muscle.  Wreck-It-Ralph incarnate.  Not as pixelated though.  In fact, when he stripped of his clothes, he was tan and smooth all over.  Unblemished skin with just a fine layer of hair on his arms and his body completely smooth.  Running your hands over it was like petting lightly oiled glass.  Just as smooth, just as solid under the fingers.  A wide band of gold ran around his neck that was less of a fashion accessory than an object to reflect his strength and character.

I met him off Grindr and he was just a few miles away.  His profile was open about being in a relationship but was equally closed about what he was looking for.  Yeah, he was interested in something physical but exactly what was not quite determined.  I still wasn't sure if he was a top or bottom or what when he knocked on my hotel room door.  He knew what I was after though.  No equivocations about what I liked.  So what ensued was an intense half hour (hey, he couldn't only play before or after work before time with his family/partner) of play.  Haven't met a guy with expressed such an open, honest need in awhile.  He was into me.  I was equally into him.  And he was willing to do anything I wanted.  Well, almost.  After grappling, fumbling about, and getting cocks in hard and drooling precum into each other's mouths, he want me inside him.  Wrapped.  With him on his back, my hard as steel rod pushed into him despite all the resistance.  He obviously doesn't bottom much.  When I hit bottom, I could feel his ass ring throbbing around my cock even through the rubber.  Despite any pain that he might have been in, his thick, fat long cock was pulsing in the air begging to be played with.  He yelped with every move I made.  And as was appropriate for his size, just a small whimper booms out of his chest like thunder.

"Fuck!  Oh, god.  Yes, make love to my hole!"

I remember thinking that was an odd expression, as what I was doing was anything but gentle love-making.  It was carnal, no-holds fucking.  Ramming him to make him feel all my inches and then keeping it deep for a second and making it swell to explore even deeper.  I grabbed onto his cock and just let the rhythm of my pounding work his shaft up and down.  He all but screamed at this point.  Eyes bulged, he grabbed the pillow by his head and covered his mouth and just let go.  Squeals, shrieks, cries, obscenities...  until it was just a series of deep resounding "o-god-o-god-o-god"s booming from his chest and muffled by the pillow and he erupted, sending the first shot straight at the pillow that was covering his face.  Then smaller, thick ropes of pure white laces ending up serpentine on his contrasting deeply tan body.  I didn't cum and I didn't care.  It was just nice to see a big meathead turn into a babbling mess.

Now, #11 was equally hot.  He was so much alike in some ways and so different in others.  Also former military (Navy, though - not Army) and built, tall and thick but with a softer edge.  Tan and smooth, but with with a path of hair down the middle of his chest.  Crew cut but longer and just slightly more styled.  Where the other was evasive, he was direct.  He was a bottom and made no effort to disguise what he wanted.  He sucked cock like a pro and could easily just spend the whole afternoon deep throating me.  His kisses were urgent, but soft.  Passionate.  And even though we were working against the clock (I had a plane to catch and begged the hotel for a late checkout so I can leave DC just one load lighter), he was still very tender.  Urgently tender.  He came into the room sweating, having rushed here so that we could have more time together, but still soft, passionate.  Directly focused, but tenderly playful.  When he told me to make love to his hole, I really felt like it was a nice, long, languid, passionate session.  He wanted me raw and I still hammered it home, but then stopped.  I attacked it at different angles, different tempos, different positions, finding new ways to make him moan when one method became dull until I got him on all fours and started ramming it hard and deep into him.  Before I knew it, he was telling me he was going to cum and his hole spasmed a tightened so hard around me it brought me to the bring too.  I pulled out as his body was a wreck in spasms and shot all over his ass.

Glancing over at the clock, it actually wasn't much longer than the Army guy but the pace was completely different.  Just like everything else, the same but not the same.  We spent a few more minutes in bed before getting up to wash up.  While he was showering, I was amazed at the load I fucked out of him.  It was a puddle and the whole room smelled like bleach.  Enough to be amazed and post a pic of it on Twitter.  Ha!

And then off I went to the airport and do the whole hurry up and wait routine.  And there in the moments where I were waiting, my mind wandered to the events of the past week...  And these two military guys started to blur together.  Connections were made.  Things fell into place.  I verified it a few days later by logging into Grindr from LA and noticing that they were exactly the same number of miles away from me.  I'm pretty sure that these two guys were partners.  The first hint was the not-so-overused phrase of "make love to my hole"...  Then the fact that they both were going to head out of town for the weekend and they both had partners and they both this, they both that.  They were also (despite being similar body types) very yin-yang the way most couples are.  And then I remembered one of them saying that their partner was also former military, having met for some function or other.  What makes me doubt is that I'm SO unlike the two of them.  Both big, tall, muscular and beefy white guys.  Maybe I'm at the cross section of the Venn diagram where their tastes overlap but it seemed unlikely.  Of course, I can't really confirm with either of them.  "Hey, I think I also fucked your boyfriend..."  That'd be kinda tacky.  I think I just need to try to convince them both to meet me at my room for a threeway next time I'm in town.  Ha!

Friday, August 29, 2014

The Rolodex

So, I've been meaning to write this entry for awhile.  It was supposed to coincide with the century marker in number of published posts and the second real anniversary of the start of this blog.  I had some grandiose idea that I can pull together the idea of annual markers and centuries and linear timelines with the rather unconventional way in which I've been attacking these entries, random circular paths that meander through my head whenever something kicks up the dust and makes me remember.  I go through my notes after jotting down some additions from a recent experience and something from the present echoes with the past and harmonizes into a longer entry in this blog.  And then there's the other aspect: sometimes I just wanna brag and sometimes I just wanna tell a story.  Problem is, I'm having a huge issue where I don't remember if I've introduced you to a new member that's joined the cast and sometimes I wanna talk about him as if you already know him 'cause I already know him.  So I become one of those storytellers that tells the punchline before giving all the context that makes it funny or that stops a story right in the thick of thigs to backtrack and then gets lost on a tangent.  And that sucks.  As much as this blog is for me to remember, I can't deny the fact that I throw these little messages in a bottle into the ocean in hopes that they'll eventually will be received and get giddy when they both resound harmonically or strike cacophonous chords with others.  And I should probably stop there before I go into the whole postmodernist quandary of the collapse of art from independent expression to the commercially informed or some other bullshit that will make me cringe when I reread it and let's instead catch you up on the list of characters that's in my reality porn flick (which, by the way, I vaguely remember doing this list a little while ago for basically the same reasons).

- The Cop -

By far the most regular.  We've been meeting up every couple weeks and you can really see the progression in my notes.  It went from me guessing that he's a cop and him vehemently denying it to me sucking him off in uniform, from him trying to shield his huge ass cum shots to him just letting it fly unapologetically, from being really guarded about personal details to lazy conversations about our jobs and partners.  He's a shorter guy, totally smooth and has these pillowy lips that are fun to suck on.  He's kinda embarrassed that he shoots so fast with me.  I even have an entry where I bottomed for him and he barely got a few pumps in before shooting.

- The Other Cop -

I'm not sure what's up with me and cops but he's a recent find.  He answered an ad from Craiglist (yeah, every now and then I still use CL to hook up...) and I came over for a rather awkward make out session before we blew each other.  Heavily closeted and throws on this tough guy attitude that both works for him and sits kinda awkwardly on him.  Gorgeous guy though.  Tall, muscular and strong, angular features on a scruffy face.  He also was evasive about his line of work before I confronted him about his story not jiving together.  He's a helpless romantic type but with the whole DL thing working against him so we kinda have awkward sex that is simultaneously rich with a needy subcontext but I fear that my curiosity will fade over time and our meets will as well.

- Drive By Cocksucker -

He has his own business as the techie for small businesses, leaving him some free time in the mornings before work for me to stop by so we can play (enough time for me to drive by and have him suck my cock).  Another top I robbed of his virginity one night after some alcohol to loosen him up.  He couldn't take much but where he lacked skill there he makes up for when I full on face fuck him with his head off the bed.  I made him cum handsfree one time by doing that but it always takes me awhile to cum with him.  I think I'm just kinda lazy when it comes to getting head.  I like to sit back and just enjoy it for a long time and he doesn't quite get the pressure and the suction right for me to cum that way.  He's also a shorter guy in his 40s (but then, I always think guys are shorter than me even if they're a couple inches taller for some reason).  Shaved head but with a fuzzy chest. He's the one that lied one time and cancelled for a family emergency that actually turned out to be playtime with another one of his fuckbuds that he was still in bed with when I was supposed to drop by.  But after dropping that coy and chaste nonsense, he and I have a bit more unabashed sexual energy where we just let loose and enjoy.

- Too Far Cub -

Mid-thirties cub with a girlfriend that begs for my load each and every time.  Total sub but without the cliches.  Shy, smart, giving...  Loves to please but will never initiate anything with either me or the girlfriend.  And because of that, I take full advantage.  He gets me at my most sadistic at times, making him gag on purpose, torturing his body, fucking him after he cums even though he's hyper sensitive and clearly struggling taking the pounding I'm dishing out.  Why?  'Cause he won't admit that he likes the rough play but he begs for me to come again knowing full well what my mood is.  Made him cum handsfree from nip play and he was completely baffled by it.  I asked him if he liked it and he genuinely wasn't sure.  He wasn't sure how he came.  But his nips felt me for days afterward.  I dubbed him TooFarCub because for the longest time, I blew him off because he's in the opposite direction from where I usually travel for work, saying it's "too far" even though he was only 4 or 5 miles away from me.  Now that I've moved a couple times, he's actually even further away but somehow we seem to see each other more often.  Oh and every time I fuck him he begs me to load up his hole.  Guess he loves the feeling of a cock shooting inside him.

- Muscle "Pussy" -

I know it turns a lot of guys off, but this really well built guy in his forties loves to call his ass a "pussy".  He's definitely taller than me.  Well over 6 feet and pure muscle.  The scene is always the same: he's in bed with the door closed when I sneak into his apartment and undress.  I meet him in his room and have to be real quiet due to the paper thin walls.  Then I fuck him wrapped until he blows his load.  He's always rock hard and every time you touch his ass, he quivers and shudders.  Turns out he's a chiropractor.  I kinda went stalker on him and looked up his name from the mail I saw in his living room.  And one time, I felt the condom break but kept on fucking anyway and blew my load.  Crossed a line there that I wasn't too proud of.  I can't tell if he's out or not.  Have a feeling he's heavily closeted with the "be super quiet" thing and the references to female anatomy...

- MegaThick -

Another top that's told me that I make him really curious about bottoming (and he almost did one time, but I stopped 'cause something felt wrong... and it turned out he was kinda fucked up on Ambien).  We have a good rapport.  Good chemistry.  Just a shame that our tastes don't align more often or else I think we'd be swapping bottoms more often.  He's a furry faced, beefy smooth-chested bear type that loves darker featured little chasers.  One of the few guys I kinda open up to about my extracurricular activities in explicit detail and he's the same way with me.  He once got hit up by a former fuck bud asking if that was him on tumblr.  Turns out, some guy posted some play pics on Tumblr and someone recognized him even though his face wasn't showing.  He was first upset that someone would post without his permission but that quickly faded to being upset that he only got a thousand likes and reblogs.  Ha!  I told him he gets brownie points for having a cock that recognizable...  And that wasn't the only time his pic was posted.  A supposedly bi-married "I don't do this often" bottom we played with posted the pic I took of him riding MegaThick, posted it on CL looking for more cock to ride.

- GeekyCub -

Almost lost him as a fuck bud when he and his then boyfriend wanted me to join in on a threeway.  Yikes!  He's quintessential bear-cub.  Mid-thirties with an unapologetically dense forest of chest hair, thinning down over the tummy to a treasure trail and leading to a manly bush.  Incredibly talented multi-cummer that's primarily a top so we end up usually playing with a third anyway.  It just didn't work out when the third was his boyfriend.  He kinda gets self-conscious over the fact that he cums so quickly and got jealous that I was able to fuck his boy the way he wanted to and the way the thinks his bf wants him to.  He just needed to realize that he needs to play to his strengths...  like the way he takes pics that always plays up his geek-cub qualities that makes him so adorable.  I wish I could shoot huge loads with such a short refractory period in between.

- Thom -

I was gonna dub him "Entertainment Bear" due to his occupation writing for various pop culture publications, but I really just think of him as Tom with an H.  I first met him at a sex party and we immediately hit it off.  Playing well together and with others, it ended up being mostly oral and mostly sharing a cocksucker while we made out and played with each others' nips.  He's only a few years younger than me, about my height (but again, he's probably a few inches taller I just think of him and everyone else as my height) but with a few more pounds over me on a thick frame.  He carries it well.  He's one of the first guys that's called me Daddy for some reason.  Maybe it's because when we play one-on-one, he turns into a whiny bottom that begs me to fuck my load into him.

- Big Drama -

So every now and then I meet a guy that turns out to be closer to my circle of friends that I thought.  This was one of them.  He's a very (extremely) youthful looking mid-fifties drama teacher with a hefty, fat and long piece of serious meat between his legs.  He said I bottomed for him one time and I must have totally blacked that out from the pain because I seriously don't remember that.  It's always a long languid time with him.  I love feeling his naturally smooth body under me as I fuck a load out of him (THAT! I can vividly remember) and then the easy conversation after before we go for another or round or two.  But it got kinda awkward one time when a mutual friend of ours noted how we look at each other with open lust.

- Li'l Sales Guy -

I first met this shorter latino guy on Adam4Adam years ago and we both couldn't host so I met him at a bathroom along a running trail that he uses.  We swapped oral real quick and since then, I can't seem to get enough of this little tyke.  He's like 5'3" or something, completely smooth with a pretty defined body, though he carries a bit of extra weight that softens his chest and abs.  I love tossing him around and mashing my body against his.  A married guy with a kid, so it's kinda hard for us to get together but when we do, we're all over each other... until I get my raw cock sliding into him and he shoots two seconds later.  Turns out he's a sales guy in the same space that I work so we started talking shop and I kinda lost a little respect for him.  Ha!

- The Neighborhood Kids -

There's this bottom and his fuck bud that I've written about.  Me and the bottom have terrible chemistry at times but since we live blocks from each other, we hit each other up a lot when we just need to get a load out.  Me and his other top buddy?  Fuck, we get each other going and the poor bottom kid has to struggle to keep up.  The other top is a married dude with two kids and has a thick fuck tool that rivals in length to my own.  He piston fucks immediately after initial entry and brutalizes the bottom fuck bud's hole.  I don't mind being the starter dick just so that I can watch.  I'm just not sure why the bottom kid has such a hard time taking me when his other top bud is thicker and pounds harder.  I also don't understand why the he has me start off fucking wrapped but always lets me fuck him raw midway through.  Me and the top bud have since snuck off for one-on-one time with each other and it turns out the guy loves sitting on my cock and feeling me pump up his ass with my load.

- The DL Guy -

Now this guy's funny.  I always think of guys that tout themselves as DL as heavily closeted guys that throw up a lot of affectations and stupid, obviously fake struts and language in an abhorrently painful act of hetero masculinity.  But this guy is actually different.  He has a screenname of DL4ever or something like that but when I first met him to just do a buddy jerk off thing, he was actually pretty genuine.  Funny guy, completely at ease with himself.  Started off with kinda boring stuff, but then escalated with me sucking him off and I think I keep coming back to him to see if I can somehow maneuver him into bottoming for me.  I've given up though.  I just hit him up when I see him online and want to indulge in some cock sucking.

- The Sexy Cub That Doesn't Know It -

I still get together with the beefy cub with the permanent five o'clock shadow that feels excellent tickling my chest as he curls into me after we play.  The only problem is that we only suck and grind into each other, but fuck if his fuzz doesn't feel good.  He's always telling me his date from hell stories and I still don't know why he keeps on berating his looks.

- Ginger Boarder Bear -

He's a ginger from the south now living it up by the beach, biking and boogieboarding.  A 50s guy into younger twinks, fighting his body type to look slimmer.  Not sure why, 'cause he has a beautiful beefy build.  We've gotten to the point where we're dropping the charade that we're angels and are starting to allude to the fact that we fuck others.  Apparently, he's versatile even though I think that's by necessity since the guys he goes after want him to top.  And I think that's why he keeps hitting me up.  He prefers to bottom and every month or so he drops a line to get his fix.

Whew...  After deleting all the hookups with the guys above from my notes, I still have thirty or so encounters to write about.  Fuck, I'm a whore!