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.