Snapshot: Quickie with a big one

Fucking a hung guy is a bit of a bonus.  I mean, it's kinda a waste for what I'm into but it's also kinda nice to have a big hard cock flopping around while you're drilling a guy or something meaty and hefty to paw at that responds to your thrusts.  I think I'm pretty close to being right smack dab in the middle of the bell curve so I pretty much think everyone is "my size" and falls within a half inch or so on either side of me.  Now, I've been told I need to get my glasses checked because I'm way off on depth perception and spatial relations, cutting my self a little short but I chalk that up to weird proportions (I'm a smaller guy so average can look big) and the Asian stereotype working for me (average looks huge when you're expecting something small, right? Ha!).  Every now and then a guy drops trou and you can't help but let out a whistle and be a little impressed.

I was on my way to work when I fired up Grindr.  And then I was in this guy's apartment in record time.  It pays to be direct, but I'm sure it was also just a fortunate confluence of events that led me to find a cock-starved guy who's partner was in France on business, thus able to and more than willing to host a quick hookup before work.  Within minutes of arriving, I was laying down on my back with him straddling me, riding my cock.  Nice broad shoulders.  Shaved head.  Trimmed chest.  He leans back a little and rests his weight on his hands behind him, doing little pelvic thrusts that raise and lower him onto my cock.  He's miming a fuck, which impales him on my cock.  Lets his head roll back and just gets lost on the sensation while I watch as his abs contract just so with each thrust.  Hot guy.  Well defined chest, flat stomach.  Triceps that bulge as they support the weight on his hands.

And this hard, huge fucking cock bouncing and flopping all around in front of me.

I resist the temptation to grab it.  He seems like he's lost on the sensations and ready to pop and I wasn't anywhere near close.  He was using my cock for his pleasure and it was time for me to guide him the other way around.  I grabbed his hips and guided his ass to fuck the full length of my cock, raising his hips until his ass was gripping onto the crown of my cock in protest before letting go and having his weight slam him down to the root.  His skin felt rubbery and loose, yielding and sliding over the hard, taut muscles.  That tactile feel was a little unexpected, so I flipped him over onto his back before I couldn't be distracted by it.  Legs over my shoulders, I pummeled my cock into his ass.  Full force fucks driving his shoulders up and up, til he's almost dangling off the bed.  Letting one leg slide off and over to the side, I now had access to palm his long and meaty cock.  That was all he needed to shoot.  I, on the other hand, needed a little more and I know I was probably hurting the dude but I was so close.  Just a few more thrusts and I was emptying my nuts.

It was a strong orgasm.  When things came back to focus, I realized I had already rolled off him but still had his cock in my fist.  Hm.  Maybe I'm a closeted size queen afterall.

Snapshot: Eating the pilot's ass

It wasn't until recently where I've worked eating ass into the routine.  Not because I wasn't interested, but more because the guys I played with weren't the type to prepare and it'd be hit or miss whether or not the act would yield favorable results.  So I'm pretty inexperienced in this area, but luckily I have you bloggers out there to guide me.

The pilot was on layover, staying at a hotel by the airport, a pitstop directly on my route to work in the morning and he was quite clear that he wanted his ass eaten.  I got the sense that it's something that he doesn't normally get at home.  So when I arrived, he was on his belly, ass up, knees spread wide and low, hugging a pillow.  His ass was full and fuzzy, wall-to-wall carpeting.  I must have fallen face forward onto his mounds, feeling his fur dance across my cheek while I got undressed.  Threw the shirt off before nose-diving into his crack.  Mounds so full I had to spread them to gain access.  And then I spent long minutes feasting on his hole.  Broad long laps from his balls to the patch of dense fuzz just below his lower back.  Twirl.  Flick.  Shaping my tongue like an arrow while I tongue fucked him, giving away to a relaxed tongue that just mashed the ooze I was salivating all over.  Sucked on his hole until he puckered open and then chewed on his ass.  Grazed my teeth on his hole before another, literal, nose dive.  My nose was wiggling against his hole while my tongue was planted on his balls and that sensitive area where his balls stretched to his hole.  Couldn't breathe.  Pulled back and his hole winked at me.  It tightened up when I blew cool air across it.  Then I went in close, lips millimeters away from his hole.  Licked my chops and just hovered.  I couldn't see it, but I could feel it: the warm breath closing the short gap between us and causing his hole flowering open, complete opposite of the earlier cool air that I blew.  Loud, deep moans booming from the chest of this big brawny guy.  The pillow insufficient in muffling his cries.

After that, I didn't need anything else to work my meat inside him.  He was a slippery mess back there.  The extra ooze that my cock was producing was superfluous and his ass yielded to my hard cock like a hot knife through butter.  I rammed him hard, causing ripples across his ass every time I hit home.  No.  Not ripples.  Tsunamis.  Repeatedly with each thrust adding more energy until I popped my load deep inside him.

To my delighted surprise, he moved to clean me off afterwards.  God, I love a guy that can go ass to mouth.  And as I luxuriated in feeling his velvet tongue across my cock, unsuccessfully willing my toes to stop curling, he shot a healthy load over his belly.

Kinda nice knowing my fresh load was going to be stowed in a cockpit travelling the globe.

Snapshot: The divorcee

So, following on the heels of my previous post, another thing I've found that people lie about is the whole gay/straight thing.  Played with a few "bi" guys and "married" guys even though they had pictures of them and their boyfriend plastered all over their walls.  But this guy was legit.  The amount of experience he had (guy or girl) was in the single digits.  But two hands, at least.

Recently divorced and still struggling to figure things out.  Not a guy that you'd typically say is hot, but he's a fucking stud.  Meaty, gnarled, bulldog face with a nose that's been through hell.  Hockey player, football player.  One of those faces that just oozes physicality and masculinity.  Broad shouldered.  A former farmboy from what I later pieced out.  A fucking big brawny stud and he doesn't even know it.

Contrast that with the delicate nature of his predicament.  His whole world's been turned upside down.  Recovering alcoholic.  Reorganizing his religious faith.  A towering build of strength on the cusp of breaking down.

Light, tentative touch.  Unsure but insistent.  Hungry.  Uncertain.  He tensed up big-time when my tongue snaked down past his balls to his ass.  "Too gay?" I asked, jokingly.  He let out a howl of laughter that came from his core, deep and booming.  "Yeah, I think so," he responded.

I could tell he was swimming in and out of his head, fighting off the demons to enjoy what he craved so much.  His cock went from rock hard and throbbing to soft to hard again in my mouth.  And when he returned the favor, it was with a hunger and passion that made me cry out in surprise.  I pulsed my load into his mouth mere moments after he started to lap at it.  The tortured beauty.  Completely exposed.  Vulnerable.  It's agonizingly beautiful when a soul lies exposed and raw before you, close enough to touch.

We laid there in a tangled mass afterwards and I felt him slowly let go in my arms.  He became heavy, his breathing more regular but fully awake and present.  Lucid eyes that just languidly stared at me.  And I took comfort in the fact that for at least a brief moment, now, he's able to chase those demons away and be at rest.

So...  you know what I said about loving an experienced pig?  Well, newbies are kinda fun too!

Snapshot: Virgin?

Happy holidays folks!  Hope everyone has a day of warm fuzzies with friends and family on this chilly day (well, chilly if you're in the northern hemisphere).

One of the really funny stories from RobTheBreeder's vault is one where he's a kid cruising the rest stop and, utilizing his young age, appealed to the taboo nature of being with someone so young by feigning inexperience until one of the guys that was fucking him noted how it was the second time he took RobTheBreeder's "virginity."  Ha!  It's funny how some guys lie about things like that.  So I'm standing there in a guy's bathroom washing my cock (I'll give him points for trying to go ass to mouth and then being honest when he said he couldn't take my cock anymore) wondering if it really was his first time.  Some guys claim to be tops and a virgin to bottoming yet have asses so loose that you could lose a Ford pickup back there.  His wasn't that loose.  But I did have reason to doubt.  He's a bit shy in letting on how much of a pig he really is.

He 'fessed up to a lie earlier in the month where he cancelled on me at the last minute because of a "family emergency."  With him being one of my regulars, I gave him a few days followed by an earnest note of concern, asking how he was holding up.  Well, turned out the reason he cancelled was because the boy from the night before was still in his bed when I started to head over.  Ha!  Had a good laugh at that.  It would have been hot to find the two of them in bed together and join in, but that might be one of those porn scenarios that works out better in fantasy than reality.  And after he told me, he sent me a pic of the kid.  Cute kid.  Dark features, handsome face.  And it was a pic I've seen about a year earlier when another fuck bud of mine asked if I wanted share this kid as a bottom.  It didn't work out back then and judging by my two buds, he definitely has a type and I'm not it.  Shaved head, fuzzy chested older daddy type is what he's after.

So, when my bud tells me that just a few moments before, I was the first to fuck my bone into him, was he honest?  Or was it just another example of him trying to save his image, acting all coy and chaste.  Not that it really mattered.  His ass felt great.  One of the more interesting ones as I ate it out and worked my meat in.  He has a deep hole.  Almost an extra hole before you actually get to his sphincter.  A flap of skin?  Webbing?  Something.  I can pull his glorious round molds apart and get the crown of my cock completely enveloped by his ass before I actually meet his hole.  And when I worked my bare cock inside him, I had to struggle to figure out when he was opening up.  But when I was fully in, it was tight as hell.  And it felt like several rings were undulating across my shaft with that extra ring.  And I'm not talking about that extra ring deep inside.  An extra outer ring.  He couldn't take a full assault on his ass (or at least he claimed) so I was content to just lie on top of him, chest to his back, full weight on top of him with my arm under him pulling me to him and smothering him with my weight, pulsing my dick every few seconds and feel his ass clench and quiver in response.  Even after being poppered up and a bit drunk, he had to call me off.

It was fine.  What he couldn't take he made up for with his head hanging off the side of the bed with a full on throat fuck before I mashed myself hard against his face for my final thrust and shot my load directly down his throat.  Almost made it through without gagging, but I think I blocked his breathing passages too long while I was cumming.  Still amazed at how he could take it.  Something that only a guy that's had some practice can pull off.  Did I really bust his cherry?  I dunno.  But I much prefer him being an experienced pig.

Snapshot(s): Tried and true

I've been trying to be a little more honest with myself.  And following my fellow bloggers who are far more confident about what they want without equivocating the truth and tediously packaging things within acceptable social constructs of propriety, I've pretty much figured out that I'm a fucking whore that wants to spread his seed as wide as possible, all corners of my known universe, fuck and fill a new hole much preferred over one already encountered.  But the odd thing is that high from a new conquest is often severely underwhelming compared to the fan-fucking-tastic chemistry of someone you've already been with.  And every now and then, you're slapped in the face with that imbalance, that irrational preference for the let down...  And sometimes all in the same day.

Picture this: my hard cock is down the throat of a young music teacher.  He's a bit larger than he had advertised in his pictures on Growlr, but I'm not anywhere near disappointed.  It's Growlr after all, and that's where I go when I want my fill of a meaty guy.  A guy I can really get my hands on.  I'm not targeting the chasers on there.  That'd be pointless.

His face is flushed trying to work my meat.  His cheeks were rosy just sitting around chatting but they are boiling tea kettle red now as he struggles to take it all down to the root repeatedly.  And I'm enjoying myself, but...  I'm not sure he is.  He's extremely self-conscious.  Stopping repeatedly to make sure that I'm good and what's more concerning is his persistence in me validating that he's acceptable.  "Am I okay?" he asks.  He's not talking about his technique.  He's talking about his size.  And like a self-fulfilled prophecy, I start to lose it.  If he wasn't just into oral, I'd be fucking my bone into him by now and enjoying having something of some size under me, but his extreme self-deprecation turned into something more.  Something more that I just couldn't give.  There's an emotional tenderness that was needed here and when I heard that call, I did the exact opposite of what was needed.  I stopped and called it off.  The excitement of the hunt, the chase, led to this disastrous dance where we finally realized we were following different rhythms.  And the bad thing was that it wasn't his size at all, but a different emotional headspace incompatibility that was leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

Then picture this: An hour later and my cock is buried deep inside a bud I hadn't fucked in a couple of months.  He's on his back, legs in the air, arms clutching and scratching at my back.  Our lips our locked and we're really getting into it before I move off and nuzzle his neck, right below the ear... and then I start to devour it like a blood-starved vampire when he exclaims, "Oh fuck yes! Now I remember!"  The memories of our previous encounters rush back to him and he moves to push all my buttons as I push on his and mere moments later, I'm fucking my cum in him while he shoots big globs between us.

By far, one of the top fucks of the year.  But still, I'll give that up every time (almost) in favor of the former scenario: the new guy where I don't know what to expect, that rush of something new usually leading to a result less satisfying.

Apparently, I'm a masochist.

Snapshot: Animal print

What I remember the most was the leopard print blanket he had on his bed.  It was incredibly soft and had that nice velvety, slick feel that only synthentic, simulated fur can create.  Completely out of place in his apartment full of tidy and strong, clean masculine lines.  But I can't help but make the contrived and cliched comparison to his raw, animalistic passion he had in the sack, that no matter how out of place that blanket was in his abode it fully suited him on his bed.

He's a blond bloke that I thought was way younger than his actual years.  Perhaps it was the short, military buzz cut or the fact that he was both working full time and going to school to get a degree.  But after several minutes where our bodies were in sync, where he seemed to luxuriate in just the contact of my skin so much so that I had this strong desire to just melt onto him so that I could smother every square centimeter of his exposed surface and seep deep into the valleys that were not so exposed, that level of chemistry comes from exploiting instinctual details, a skill that isn't afforded to the inexperienced.  And then I ended up on my back with him straddling me and his eyes were searching mine for something before he smiled so genuinely, his eyes crinkled at the corners to finally show a bit of age.  I didn't realize it, but what he was searching for was some sort of permission, some signal that I was okay with pushing me to the next level as he aimed my raw cock at his hole and started to sink down with nothing but the goo that my cock was pulsing out and some dried up drool of his from having it lodged in his throat a few minutes earlier.  He spent some time trying to relax, giving me goosebumps as his hole tightened and gave way to my hard cock as he sank down on it.  All the way down.  Sitting on my lap fully impaled.  When he hit bottom, I wanted to cum so bad.  I sat up a bit and reached behind him, up his back to both pull him to me chest to chest and pull him down by the shoulders to get deeper in him still.

Melt. Melt into him this time.

That feeling just lasted a second or two before we were back to the writhing and the fumbling, rolling around on his bed while I sawed my bone into him from several positions, finding one that suited me fine and let loose with my load.  He flopped back and forth from being hard and just kinda chubbed up.  Never came.  But as we lie panting, trying to recover afterwards, no mistaking that the beast was satisfied.

Snapshot: Flipping a top

When I agree to play with another top, it usually ends up just being oral play or me breaking his defenses down until I have my meat inside him.  So I'm not sure how the hell I ended up on my back with my legs in the air, grimacing through the pain yet welcoming it on while this blond kid with a faux hawk a full decade my junior is sawing his raw bone inside me.

My eyes bulged and I tightened up hard.

"Oh, shit.  Sorry," the kid said softly as he repositioned and fucked a bit more shallow.  The kid has skill.  He knew he went to deep without me telling him.  And now he's hitting that spot that's numbing the pain.

It started the way I thought.  Us swapping head.  But the first thing that should have clued me in that things would turn out different was the way I responded to his funk.  A blue-collar kid, a bit more self-assured than I usually find guys his age, unapologetically grubby from a hard day's work in the field and I was eating his scent up.  Some guys you smell and it turns your stomach.  This guy, for some reason, made me respond in a totally unexpected way.  The sting of his day's sweat as I lapped as his nuts was accompanied by a scent that was distinctly male but alluring.  I immediately mashed my nose against his pits and swirled my tongue around to consume as much of him as I could.  

And apparently that also meant sucking in his cock deep inside my ass.

Snapshot: Semi-retired chatterer

I'm not much for talking during sex.  Not that I'm not a verbal guy.  I can be, but it's not a conversation but instead rhetorical questions that are meant to fuck with your head more than anything else.  I'm a little too old to multi-task and answer questions candidly while I'm trying to fuck the cum out of you.

But for some reason, I didn't mind so much with him.

TheTalker's a beefy framed, mature kid that disarms me with his earnest eyes and solid kiss.  Soft lips.  Moist, but never sloppy.  Some how tender and coy but persistent and urgently passionate at the same time.  And a complementary tongue that doesn't duel but dances with my own.

But what really made me lose two loads back to back in succession was seeing him on his stomach.  With him on his elbows, you can see his strong, broad shoulders sweep down the valley of the natural arch in his back to two full globes of man that were perky and insisted on being explored.  I asphyxiated myself sucking on his balls as my nose was buried deep into his cleft.  And it was his scent that lingered on my nose that carried me through two loads and his persistent questions that demanded more than a monosyllabic answer.

It was the one time I didn't mind the questions and commentary during play.  That is, until I was done and my natural instincts to bolt took over.  Whereas his self-reflections were insightful before, they seemed now self-indulgent.  His theories were interesting before, but now impossibly flawed and ridiculous.  His questions somehow seemed more invasive.  So I politely excused myself and gave up on trying for the third load, stopping myself from tarnishing the image of perfection I had framed in my mind with the typical post-coital funk.

Snapshot: Stinky

Body piercings?  Hot!  Cat urine?  Not so much.

There was so much that was telling me to bolt.  I would normally slap my hands and rub them together to warm them up in a cold house, but I didn't in fear of the friction igniting the fumes of alcohol that was emanating from his body.  It already took me a lot longer than expected to find his house, trying to interpret his slurred speech on the phone.  And the smell.  The stench of ammonia or something foul reminiscent of an unattended litter box hit me the moment I stepped in the house.  But despite all that, I was still hard.  It had been a number of days since I last shot and my dick wasn't used to the neglect.  It demanded attention.  And for some reason, stalking the streets of a dark neighborhood while an eager guy was talking dirty in between half-formulated sentences on what his house looked like really turned me on.

When I finally charged through his door, I unzipped and flopped down on a heavily worn couched while he dropped to his knees.  I rolled my eyes in the dark when he mouthed the cotton of my trunks.  I just wanted to use his mouth to nut and walk away.  Fuck the foreplay.  I was hard and ready.

Pushed my trunks down and let my bone bounce free.  Grabbed him by his nips to pull him to me again and was surprised to find out they were pierced.  He let his cock free too and it flopped down hard, weighted by a heavy gauge PA.

"Good," I silently thought.  "An experienced guy that won't mind the abuse."

But I was wrong.  He mistook my cock for a toy that didn't have thousands of nerve endings in it, bending it against the natural curve and mashing it the wrong way in the back of his throat while scraping some teeth along it's length.  Time to teach the kid.  I shifted on the couch, leaning against the arm rest and kicking my feet up.  Grabbed him by the hair on one hand and while the other guided the curve of my meat down his throat, past his tonsils until I could feel him start to gag.

Then I face fucked him.

He couldn't take it for long as I started to feel him resist in my hands, so I let go and his head flung back while he let out a big gasp for air.

"Back down on it!" I growled, before he dove back down on his own accord to take me to the root.  And I held him down by the neck until I shot down his throat.  His diaphragm gave a violent protest at the first shot and I felt my cock recoil and trigger a gag against his tongue.  His tight throat loosened up for a second before its wet, warm walls enveloped every surface of my cock as I shot another few lengths of cum straight down.

He didn't taste any of it.  Instead, he told me he tasted the sand I dragged in from my day at the beach.  Felt a little bad.  Then, in a moment of self-justification, I was glad that was all he tasted and hoped that'd remind him to clean up the litter box.

Snapshot: The roll-off

So I'm starting to tackle the backlog of things to write by writing little clips, snapshots in time with the encounters I've had...

It's a natural break that happens from time to time.  I'm leaning over him with his legs over my shoulders.  What weight of mine he's not supporting with his upper back and shoulders is distributed to my two fists on either side of him, burrowing deep caves in his fluffy white comforter.  My stare drills into him, through him almost as I try to find an answer.  I'm searching for any signs that I've brought him to the edge.  In a bit of disdain, I fuck my dick back into him hard with a rough smack.  So rough, some of my sweat flies off my face and lands on his.  I roll off him in defeat.  Onto my back, heaving.  Trying to catch my breath.  I'm not sure how long we've been going at it but I know he's not close to cumming.  Neither am I.

A younger kid.  I mistook him for military but he's just a bit of a blue-collar type kid working in telecommunications.  And I'm trying not to make too much noise with his roommates in the next room.

We start kissing, side by side, while I throw off the condom.  Pulling him closer to me, he takes that as a sign to roll over and straddle me.  I like where this is leading.

I push on his chest and he sits upright, my hard cock still throbbing and lying perfectly centered between his two perfect mounds.  I grab his hips and slide them back and forth along my length, just teasing his hole.  He's whimper slightly every time the tip of my cock passed by.

"Do you...  think you'll need another condom?" he asked.  It was a strange way of asking it.  I took that as a sign that what was next, was up to me.

In answer, I angled my pelvis on the next pass and my cock pressed against his hole without buckling, just aiming straight to his guts.  Not even letting him object, I pressed him deeper.  One steady push.  And I felt his hole flower open and he glided on home to the base of my cock.  Another pelvic angle change and slight thrust while I pushed him firmly down on my cock and I knew I was hitting his prostate.  His gasp made my cock flare.

I slide him back and forth.  Not up and down, but back and forth.  Repeatedly hitting his prostate until I saw him snatch up his throbbing cock to jerk off a load.  I felt his ass spasm across the length of my dick before I saw his first shot fly onto my chest, and it was that spasm that sent my own load racing out into his guts.

It was his turn to roll off me.  This time, with a sense of complete satisfaction.