Saturday, October 29, 2016

When bloggers meet... (redo)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is the head in?" he asks.

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

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

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

Friday, October 28, 2016

When bloggers meet...

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

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

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

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

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


Friday, October 14, 2016

Strokes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that totally gets me going.