Musings: Miscellaneous thoughts on the last day

So, I just ended a little spree of sudden activity while on a business trip. Four guys and almost a fifth in the span of about 30 hours.  And it's left me with a couple of interesting epiphanies:

1. Ironically, nothing makes me wanna pummel an ass hard, fast, and mean like being completely wiped and stressed out

2. Also ironic: if you're looking for a top, just advertise yourself as a top looking for ass to fuck no strings attached.  The bottoms barely respond but all the other tops flock your way.

3. I didn't make out with most of them even though I wanted to and I wish they were all into it, despite having mixed results on chemistry

I had spent over 9 hours at airports and in the air due to weather delays when I finally got into my final destination.  I napped for two hours before waking up in the wee hours of the morning to push out a marketing campaign that had to be done in the off hours.  Went back to bed and got woken up two hours later by noisy neighbors, so just ended up finishing up work.  After all that, I was tired as hell.  And a little incoherent, I'm sure.  I was thinking in full sentences but I'm sure the sounds that came out of my mouth were the unintelligible "wah-wahs" of the adults in a peanuts cartoon.  I was so tired, I would have paid a thousand dollars for someone to piss for me.  I was just so wiped I couldn't get up and couldn't be bothered with the chore of emptying my bladder.  I mean, typing on a keyboard felt like I was pounding fists into a cold marble slab.

And despite all that, I wanted nothing more than to pummel my meat into a boy and fuck the living shit out of him.

Bad.  Really bad.  So bad I gave my morning work appointment the finger and placed an ad on craigslist looking for a guy en route to my work stuff later in the day.  A few guys responded but one was refreshingly direct.  He actually read the ad and gave me all that I asked for: a pic, the location of his place, and what he wanted to do.  Unfortunately, all he wanted to do was give head while playing straight porn but he was geographically convenient and his reading comprehension was off the charts for a craigslister so I said fuck it.  What the hell.  Why not?  I asked him to have a gang bang video playing.  If it's a straight video, might as well have as many cocks in the frame as possible.  Plus, something really hot about cocks invading all three holes relentlessly (I may have lost some of you on that - c'mon, vaginas and tits aren't all that bad).

And the guy turned out to be totally hot.  Even hotter than his pic.  A stocky older dude with salt and pepper closely cropped hair on top of a thick frame, broad shoulders capped nicely with round solid muscle, deltoids that accentuated the thick muscles in his neck and made his lats even more pronounced. And fuzz all over his body that made me want to wear his hyde like a coat.

And I think he was married.  He wore a ring, alluded to the fact that he couldn't play in the evenings and his place was decorated with fits of feminine touches... and a pile or two here of stuffed kiddie toys.  But he sure sucked cock well!  He took direction well, letting guide his pace, making him pay attention to certain spots for a few moments.  And he was hard as a rock throughout.  I didn't want him to cum.  His hand kept reaching for it and I batted it away.  I held onto it instead.  Not stroking, just held onto it.  I'd give it a squeeze every now and then, which interrupted his momentum as a wave of pleasure washed over him.  And when I was close, I started to stroke.  He tried to take over the stroking.  Or to stop me.  I don't know which.  But at my first squirt, I felt him start to cum at the same time and I shoved my cock deep down and had him swallow.

He said it was "intense" and apologized for choking a lot.  I agreed on the intensity... and let him know that the intensity kinda came from the choking... and how he dove right back in for more.  Ha!

Fast forward about 5 hours and I'm at an airport hotel and chatting up some guys.  I had reposted my craigslist ad (hey, why not?  it seemed to work well the first time) and one guy was just a couple blocks over.  An Asian guy.  Stocky.  And he was really chatty and interested until I sent him my face pic.  That was a bad sign.  So I had moved on when he suddenly begged me to come over and play.  We ended up awkwardly caressing each other as he was clearly not into me (moved away when I went in for a kiss) but he had wired nips that made his body shudder and grab my cock and place it just so.  A little spit job and more nipple play had my cock fully in his ass and him ooo-ing over how I stretched him out and hit his spot.

But he was soft.  And was trying to wank the shriveled up little thing.  Kinda sad.  So after a good 20 minutes of varying positions and me whetting my appetite for feeling the ridges of my cock dance along a nice, wet and silky hole, I faked an orgasm (I know...  sad) and went on my merry little way.  I'll save my load for the next guy...

Which turned out to be a stunningly handsome guy that's only bottomed twice before (and he was counting half-hearted attempts where "just the tip" really meant just the tip) and a fat uncut cock that probably topped eight thick inches.  He felt incredibly tall at 6'4".  In fact, I think my greeting to him when I opened the door was, "Fuck, you're tall." And hot as hell.  A former collegiate volleyball player now in his 40s but still sporting an athletic body despite the deprecating pat of his non-existing belly when I complimented him.  I don't think he was going to come over either as he also balked after I sent my face pic (I must really have an unattractive face!) but then replied instantly after I wrote him off and told him I was just going to go to the hotel's heated pool and relax.  On hindsight, it probably wasn't the face pic that made him pause but the fact that I was pretty direct about wanting to fuck and him not sure if he was up for it.  He noted how he usually just started with a massage and then went with the flow.  Just some time relaxing in warm water was probably a better warm up.

And it was.  A warm up to a mutual massage.  Which was then a warm up to me fucking the cum out of him.  While he was rather rough and fast with the massage, I eased into it.  Long strokes up and down his back.  Straddling him, never losing contact of skin on skin even when I was grabbing more lotion.  And then when I felt his body relax, I awkwardly mounted him, trying to both make him feel the heat of my hands on his back and find the spot to ease myself in.  I forgot that 5'8" and 6'4" just kinda doesn't align perfectly so adjustments had to be made.  When I knew he was loose enough, I flipped him over to his back and I saw that he was fully hard.  And I knew I had him.  Reinserted and I swear his hard cock swelled even more as he let out a "Whoa".  And I finally got to fuck the shit of him like I wanted so bad for the whole day.  I gripped his cock and within a few minutes he was shooting all over himself.  Letting the final waves of his orgasm play out, I just stopped and held still, feeling his whole body contract and bear down on my cock and just let myself go.  I felt a huge load pulsing into him.  I'm not sure if he did.  He was still wrapped up in his high.

It was still odd though.  I mean, I wanted more.  His way of warming up to a guy was really casual and touch was enough to get the races started.  Me?  I was yearning for the taste of soft, wet lips brushing up against mine and the taste of another man's taste.  He turned away when I went in for a kiss and that was severely disappointing.  So much so that I eagerly sought out a playmate in the morning on Grindr but was thwarted by a guy that suddenly had a girlfriend wake up right when we were about to seal the deal, a guy that was geographically inconvenient but willing, and a bottom whose profile was screaming for a hard cock, any hard cock that just flat out said "No thanks" when I hit him up.  Hm...  Maybe I should just hit up the other tops.  Seems like I have better luck with them.  Even the Asian guy was a versatile top who "doesn't do that often"...  But maybe that's the new code for "I'm not a slut" or "I'm masculine" or (worse) "I'm 'clean'" the way DL and bi used to be not too long ago.

Hm...

Oh, by the way, later that day I finally got to fuck a guy, lips locked, until he shot his load all over his furry body.  And he too was "bi" and "didn't bottom often."  God, he was gloriously fuzzy.  Front and back.  Cute little otter with a beard that didn't quite match the softness of his face in some way.  But he shot before I had a chance to cum.  First a hot guy that I was aching to kiss but managed to cum basically the same time (actually, I came at the same time with the first guy as well) and now a guy that kissed and and kissed well that I just couldn't seem to get my cum into let alone at the same time he shot.  Can't win it all!

Ode to a rising star

I'm resisting the urge to call him.  I sense that I need to as the texts that flew around couldn't capture the nuances of what I was trying to convey.  But in the end, I came to the realization that the phone call wouldn't be for him.  It wouldn't be something in his best interests.  Instead, it would be solely for mine...  to smooth over the rough, jagged lines he painted of me with softly vibrant colors, surreal, masking the truth.  What was best was to just let him go.  Now.  Not later.  Because in the end, you can't contain that sort of talent and energy and light and it'd be grotesque to even try to collect it and display it, recessed in a cabinet, arranged in a shadow box just because it was convenient for me.

And it was a first.  A fuck buddy just broke up with me over SMS.  After only two encounters.  Not just a slow fade but an all out abrupt "let's not see each other" kinda breakup backed up with violent emotion.

We met off of Growlr.  A mid-twenties cub, originally from the east coast and now trying to make it out here.  And he's doing it.  Using his artistic talents to succeed in "the industry" and he's nothing but giddy that his career is starting to take off, breaking all the rules and name dropping all over the place which isn't really coming out of a place of affectation but that he just hasn't yet been burned enough to keep his contacts a secret.  And I'm smiling softly to myself and turning it back constantly not to the others but back to him.  To his name.  Because the resume isn't as important as what you can bring to the table and if you're on your ass out of a job, you need to be confident enough in your abilities to be a catalyst that makes shit happen and not just merely a competent cog in the machine.

Yeah, I didn't know what the fuck I was saying but he ate that shit up like a fat kid at a Vegas buffet.  And he gave me those eyes.  Those innocent puppy eyes that looked up to me with adoration that not only made the years between us more apparent but also, ironically, made me wanna do some really nasty, dirty things to him.  So naturally, for the rest of the night, I'd address him with diminutives that would make his permanently ruddy cheeks flush even more.  It was cute.  Aww...  Pumpkin!

And the dirty things I did to him?  Like I said, we only met twice.  Two over-nighters.  And I managed to fucked at least five loads into him and fuck even more out of this self-professed top.  He wasn't sure about bottoming.  It never felt good for him.  But he claimed I had a "magic dick" that just went in easy and hit all the right spots.  And I think he just enjoyed letting go and having someone else take the lead.  He was by no means a passive guy.  Engaged.  Didn't fight me but played with me, accepted what I was offering and engaged enough to know when to contribute...  in tandem.  In between, I'd stroke his smooth body, my hand leaving trails of red as it danced over his skin.  He had that complexion where you can almost see the blood come up to the surface to meet your hands and follow it where ever to wanted to go.  He'd be curled up into my chest, his scruff tickling a nipple, while his cum that he shot all over me started to cool and run and dry, sealing us together.  And then I'd feel his dick perk up again.  It's a straight one.  Solid.  Symmetrical girth from base to tip, anchored into his body at a permanent, perfect forty-five degree angle.  So yeah, I could tell when he was ready again and then we'd fuck all over again.  At one point, I had just fucked a load out of him but knew he needed a break.  So I rolled him over and gave him a massage.  My cock grazing his ass over and over until I couldn't help but hold him down as he writhed, groan, and maybe even winced having just got off...  and pummeled his ass until I growled a huge load deep inside him.  He quickly bucked me off, rolled over and shot another load that sprayed so hard he messed the sheets.  All this within 15 minutes between loads.

Then the text.  The text that said he just wants to be friends.  He knew I was partnered going into it, but he needed more than a fuck bud that would get together just every month or so.  To save himself from heartache, he needed to delineate a line that moved me to the platonic, a state that I couldn't realistically abide by.  So now he's made me out to be some asshole that used him for his holes.

And I've resisted the temptation to correct him.  In the end, I want him to get what he's looking for and unfortunately I'm not it.  Calling him is just a desperate attempt to greedily maintain this high I get when we're together.  And besides.  In bed/out of bed: you can't contain talent.  It wouldn't be fair to try.

Snapshot: Handsfree training

It's not the first time he's appeared in these pages.  He's finally let go of the charade that I'm his only fuck buddy and occasionally whispers soft boasts about his latest conquests.  But of the times we've played, it's one of the rare times we met up in the evening, unrushed, no impending time deadlines to get our asses out of bed and into work mode.

So there I am, standing at the side of the bed.  He's on his back with his head dangling upside down off of it, dangling low enough to accommodate the curve of my cock so that it just glides neatly down his throat.  When my balls are mashed up against his face and I bottom out, it's lodged perfectly in there.  No straining, no twisting, no kinking.  Perfect alignment like sword to sheath.  But then I pull back and you can almost hear a pop when the head of my dick pulls out of his tight throat and then I exploit that curve in my dick to pop it back in.  I'm fully face fucking him by now and sometimes I bottom out and hold still long enough to make him choke and gag.  Sometimes I accommodate and pull back.  Sometimes, he's not so lucky and I leave it in there just a second or two longer as he struggles.

His cock is pulsing, though, straining against the air for some contact but I have his arms pinned down to his sides with my hands.  The weight of my body keeping them down as I lean onto them.  He can't jerk off.  I won't let him.  Not fully.

I shift my weight a little and my right hand moves along with it to his shoulder as if I accidentally released his right forearm.  His hand immediately flies to his cock and I knock it away.  But not after I deliberately let his hand linger on his cock for a couple strokes.  I'm edging him.  By proxy.  I know it.  I'm not trying to keep him from cumming by pinning his arms down.  Far from it.  These "accidental" slips are meant to keep him on the edge.  Even more so, it's meant to train him to get over the edge without touching himself.

The game plays over and over.  I let him touch himself for varying lengths.  Sometimes it's just barely enough for his cock to feel the heat of his fingertips.  Sometimes he gets a few strokes in.  Either way, his cock is still pulsing wildly in the air and leaking precum like a bad DIY plumbing project.

Meanwhile, I still haven't let up my assault on his throat.  He's gagging quite regularly now.  And one of my longer strokes rewards me with long strands of deep choke spittle, dragged out from deep down and I slap it all over his face to mess that cute little mug up.  And then I re-aim and burying it back down.  You wouldn't think he's enjoying it but his dick betrays him.

He's ready.  One last accidental slip frees his hand.  A short slip.  And then I lean in even more and really start face fucking him.  Using the tight narrow opening to his throat to play with just the first couple inches of my cock... or last couple, depending on how you look at it.  Fast.  Hard.  Balls slapping his face.  And then he shoots.  Handsfree.  A couple spurts play out and before they start to subside, I let go his arm and bury my cock all the way once and for all.  His hand flies to his cock and he jerks out another set of powerful spurts, bigger than the last.  It's a cum shot that feels like it lasts a whole day, rushing down a camel's back and cresting over a double hump before sliding down a long tail that ends in a distant horizon.

I didn't cum (yet) and I really didn't need to at that point.  I taught him something new and he gave me an ego boost.  I was drunk with sexual power.  That was enough of a high.