So, the good thing about writing these little short clips is that I can now reference some things that happened earlier where I couldn't before because the chronology was all off. Not entirely true since I'm still about 20 clips behind, but still...
One night, I had some free time and fired off Growlr. Found a few guys that were staying at nearby hotels. God, I love out-of-town visitors. I've found that they're less likely to flake, more upfront about when they want to meet up, and are usually able to host. One guy was a broad shouldered beefy, tall guy with blond hair that was perfectly combed. Nice eyes. A handsome but more muscular Philip Seymour Hoffman equivalent. The other was a married guy, beefy but less built, offering a shirtless pic that showed narrow shoulders and a little tuft of hair right in the middle of his chest. His face pic included glasses that were too big for him and looked about 10 years old. He's your average Joe and I could see a guy that liked to defile the mild-mannered (homely?) dad next door totally digging him, but that wasn't my game. I ended up in the movie-star lookalike's room. At least at first. What can I say? He was the better looking of the two and was pretty clear about wanting to get fucked. And I love getting my paws on a bigger guy that won't bruise if I manhandle him a bit.
So MuscleHoffman was just as well put-together in person as he was in pics. Really handsome guy. Neatly groomed. Eyes really engaging and bright, luring you out of your shell immediately. Infectious extroversion. But it all started going downhill when he asked me to rubber up. Stupid me for not asking beforehand. I generally don't mind but I really wanted to sink my cock into a hole raw that night. And then it really went to shit after I got inside him. Well, not literally. He was clean as a whistle. You'd expect that from how precise he is about grooming. What threw me off was that he was like the Semi-Retired Chatterer but in a more distracting way. My cock fought valiantly to keep on task while I learned that he works in politics, travels often, has a long-standing fuckbud in another state that is really good in bed. Oh, and at one point, he chastised me for being a "bad gay" and not using skin products before bed. At that point, my cock gave up and was almost totally deflated. There's the guy that's verbal in bed and then there's the verbose guy that talks like you're his BFF fag hag in bed. I looked down and he wasn't hard either. He noticed me checking and mentioned that he only gets hard if he's fucked just the right way (i.e. Bruce, you suck at fucking). But I didn't want to bruise his ego the same way. Instead, I faked it and ran into the bathroom to flush down the evidence before I could get caught in the lie.
So, there I am walking out of the hotel and horny as fuck when I checked my phone. AverageDad had messaged me a number of times while I was faking an orgasm. That kid was eager. And he was only two blocks away at a different hotel. Fast-forward a few minutes and I'm in his room. The flurry of filth that was flying across over text from him dried up to nothing in person. But, like the Divorcee, he was sweetly new to it all and you could tell he was hungry for it. He was visibly shaking, a bundle of nerves, like a frightened Chihuahua but in a Mastiff's frame. I should have known better and could have finessed it but instead jumped right in and attacked the poor guy. I knew that he drew the line at anal but was really curious about it and after being blueballed by MuscleHoffman, I wanted so bad to drill my raw cock up his hole. I rushed him to that conclusion though and he wasn't quite there yet. Just a few tentative kisses on my cock, some stroking, and then the distracting chimes of his phone as he got repeated texts. He finally apologized and broke it off, saying that he thought it was his wife texting him and he couldn't go through with it. That could be it. Or it could be that he was getting more Growlr alerts and he knew I wasn't going to stop until his ass was on the menu. It was probably for the best, though. The chemistry was way off.
Two for two. I didn't want to totally destroy my ego and watch myself totally strike out so I shot a really big healthy-sized load all over myself when I got home.