The Rolodex

So, I've been meaning to write this entry for awhile.  It was supposed to coincide with the century marker in number of published posts and the second real anniversary of the start of this blog.  I had some grandiose idea that I can pull together the idea of annual markers and centuries and linear timelines with the rather unconventional way in which I've been attacking these entries, random circular paths that meander through my head whenever something kicks up the dust and makes me remember.  I go through my notes after jotting down some additions from a recent experience and something from the present echoes with the past and harmonizes into a longer entry in this blog.  And then there's the other aspect: sometimes I just wanna brag and sometimes I just wanna tell a story.  Problem is, I'm having a huge issue where I don't remember if I've introduced you to a new member that's joined the cast and sometimes I wanna talk about him as if you already know him 'cause I already know him.  So I become one of those storytellers that tells the punchline before giving all the context that makes it funny or that stops a story right in the thick of thigs to backtrack and then gets lost on a tangent.  And that sucks.  As much as this blog is for me to remember, I can't deny the fact that I throw these little messages in a bottle into the ocean in hopes that they'll eventually will be received and get giddy when they both resound harmonically or strike cacophonous chords with others.  And I should probably stop there before I go into the whole postmodernist quandary of the collapse of art from independent expression to the commercially informed or some other bullshit that will make me cringe when I reread it and let's instead catch you up on the list of characters that's in my reality porn flick (which, by the way, I vaguely remember doing this list a little while ago for basically the same reasons).

- The Cop -

By far the most regular.  We've been meeting up every couple weeks and you can really see the progression in my notes.  It went from me guessing that he's a cop and him vehemently denying it to me sucking him off in uniform, from him trying to shield his huge ass cum shots to him just letting it fly unapologetically, from being really guarded about personal details to lazy conversations about our jobs and partners.  He's a shorter guy, totally smooth and has these pillowy lips that are fun to suck on.  He's kinda embarrassed that he shoots so fast with me.  I even have an entry where I bottomed for him and he barely got a few pumps in before shooting.

- The Other Cop -

I'm not sure what's up with me and cops but he's a recent find.  He answered an ad from Craiglist (yeah, every now and then I still use CL to hook up...) and I came over for a rather awkward make out session before we blew each other.  Heavily closeted and throws on this tough guy attitude that both works for him and sits kinda awkwardly on him.  Gorgeous guy though.  Tall, muscular and strong, angular features on a scruffy face.  He also was evasive about his line of work before I confronted him about his story not jiving together.  He's a helpless romantic type but with the whole DL thing working against him so we kinda have awkward sex that is simultaneously rich with a needy subcontext but I fear that my curiosity will fade over time and our meets will as well.

- Drive By Cocksucker -

He has his own business as the techie for small businesses, leaving him some free time in the mornings before work for me to stop by so we can play (enough time for me to drive by and have him suck my cock).  Another top I robbed of his virginity one night after some alcohol to loosen him up.  He couldn't take much but where he lacked skill there he makes up for when I full on face fuck him with his head off the bed.  I made him cum handsfree one time by doing that but it always takes me awhile to cum with him.  I think I'm just kinda lazy when it comes to getting head.  I like to sit back and just enjoy it for a long time and he doesn't quite get the pressure and the suction right for me to cum that way.  He's also a shorter guy in his 40s (but then, I always think guys are shorter than me even if they're a couple inches taller for some reason).  Shaved head but with a fuzzy chest. He's the one that lied one time and cancelled for a family emergency that actually turned out to be playtime with another one of his fuckbuds that he was still in bed with when I was supposed to drop by.  But after dropping that coy and chaste nonsense, he and I have a bit more unabashed sexual energy where we just let loose and enjoy.

- Too Far Cub -

Mid-thirties cub with a girlfriend that begs for my load each and every time.  Total sub but without the cliches.  Shy, smart, giving...  Loves to please but will never initiate anything with either me or the girlfriend.  And because of that, I take full advantage.  He gets me at my most sadistic at times, making him gag on purpose, torturing his body, fucking him after he cums even though he's hyper sensitive and clearly struggling taking the pounding I'm dishing out.  Why?  'Cause he won't admit that he likes the rough play but he begs for me to come again knowing full well what my mood is.  Made him cum handsfree from nip play and he was completely baffled by it.  I asked him if he liked it and he genuinely wasn't sure.  He wasn't sure how he came.  But his nips felt me for days afterward.  I dubbed him TooFarCub because for the longest time, I blew him off because he's in the opposite direction from where I usually travel for work, saying it's "too far" even though he was only 4 or 5 miles away from me.  Now that I've moved a couple times, he's actually even further away but somehow we seem to see each other more often.  Oh and every time I fuck him he begs me to load up his hole.  Guess he loves the feeling of a cock shooting inside him.

- Muscle "Pussy" -

I know it turns a lot of guys off, but this really well built guy in his forties loves to call his ass a "pussy".  He's definitely taller than me.  Well over 6 feet and pure muscle.  The scene is always the same: he's in bed with the door closed when I sneak into his apartment and undress.  I meet him in his room and have to be real quiet due to the paper thin walls.  Then I fuck him wrapped until he blows his load.  He's always rock hard and every time you touch his ass, he quivers and shudders.  Turns out he's a chiropractor.  I kinda went stalker on him and looked up his name from the mail I saw in his living room.  And one time, I felt the condom break but kept on fucking anyway and blew my load.  Crossed a line there that I wasn't too proud of.  I can't tell if he's out or not.  Have a feeling he's heavily closeted with the "be super quiet" thing and the references to female anatomy...

- MegaThick -

Another top that's told me that I make him really curious about bottoming (and he almost did one time, but I stopped 'cause something felt wrong... and it turned out he was kinda fucked up on Ambien).  We have a good rapport.  Good chemistry.  Just a shame that our tastes don't align more often or else I think we'd be swapping bottoms more often.  He's a furry faced, beefy smooth-chested bear type that loves darker featured little chasers.  One of the few guys I kinda open up to about my extracurricular activities in explicit detail and he's the same way with me.  He once got hit up by a former fuck bud asking if that was him on tumblr.  Turns out, some guy posted some play pics on Tumblr and someone recognized him even though his face wasn't showing.  He was first upset that someone would post without his permission but that quickly faded to being upset that he only got a thousand likes and reblogs.  Ha!  I told him he gets brownie points for having a cock that recognizable...  And that wasn't the only time his pic was posted.  A supposedly bi-married "I don't do this often" bottom we played with posted the pic I took of him riding MegaThick, posted it on CL looking for more cock to ride.

- GeekyCub -

Almost lost him as a fuck bud when he and his then boyfriend wanted me to join in on a threeway.  Yikes!  He's quintessential bear-cub.  Mid-thirties with an unapologetically dense forest of chest hair, thinning down over the tummy to a treasure trail and leading to a manly bush.  Incredibly talented multi-cummer that's primarily a top so we end up usually playing with a third anyway.  It just didn't work out when the third was his boyfriend.  He kinda gets self-conscious over the fact that he cums so quickly and got jealous that I was able to fuck his boy the way he wanted to and the way the thinks his bf wants him to.  He just needed to realize that he needs to play to his strengths...  like the way he takes pics that always plays up his geek-cub qualities that makes him so adorable.  I wish I could shoot huge loads with such a short refractory period in between.

- Thom -

I was gonna dub him "Entertainment Bear" due to his occupation writing for various pop culture publications, but I really just think of him as Tom with an H.  I first met him at a sex party and we immediately hit it off.  Playing well together and with others, it ended up being mostly oral and mostly sharing a cocksucker while we made out and played with each others' nips.  He's only a few years younger than me, about my height (but again, he's probably a few inches taller I just think of him and everyone else as my height) but with a few more pounds over me on a thick frame.  He carries it well.  He's one of the first guys that's called me Daddy for some reason.  Maybe it's because when we play one-on-one, he turns into a whiny bottom that begs me to fuck my load into him.

- Big Drama -

So every now and then I meet a guy that turns out to be closer to my circle of friends that I thought.  This was one of them.  He's a very (extremely) youthful looking mid-fifties drama teacher with a hefty, fat and long piece of serious meat between his legs.  He said I bottomed for him one time and I must have totally blacked that out from the pain because I seriously don't remember that.  It's always a long languid time with him.  I love feeling his naturally smooth body under me as I fuck a load out of him (THAT! I can vividly remember) and then the easy conversation after before we go for another or round or two.  But it got kinda awkward one time when a mutual friend of ours noted how we look at each other with open lust.

- Li'l Sales Guy -

I first met this shorter latino guy on Adam4Adam years ago and we both couldn't host so I met him at a bathroom along a running trail that he uses.  We swapped oral real quick and since then, I can't seem to get enough of this little tyke.  He's like 5'3" or something, completely smooth with a pretty defined body, though he carries a bit of extra weight that softens his chest and abs.  I love tossing him around and mashing my body against his.  A married guy with a kid, so it's kinda hard for us to get together but when we do, we're all over each other... until I get my raw cock sliding into him and he shoots two seconds later.  Turns out he's a sales guy in the same space that I work so we started talking shop and I kinda lost a little respect for him.  Ha!

- The Neighborhood Kids -

There's this bottom and his fuck bud that I've written about.  Me and the bottom have terrible chemistry at times but since we live blocks from each other, we hit each other up a lot when we just need to get a load out.  Me and his other top buddy?  Fuck, we get each other going and the poor bottom kid has to struggle to keep up.  The other top is a married dude with two kids and has a thick fuck tool that rivals in length to my own.  He piston fucks immediately after initial entry and brutalizes the bottom fuck bud's hole.  I don't mind being the starter dick just so that I can watch.  I'm just not sure why the bottom kid has such a hard time taking me when his other top bud is thicker and pounds harder.  I also don't understand why the he has me start off fucking wrapped but always lets me fuck him raw midway through.  Me and the top bud have since snuck off for one-on-one time with each other and it turns out the guy loves sitting on my cock and feeling me pump up his ass with my load.

- The DL Guy -

Now this guy's funny.  I always think of guys that tout themselves as DL as heavily closeted guys that throw up a lot of affectations and stupid, obviously fake struts and language in an abhorrently painful act of hetero masculinity.  But this guy is actually different.  He has a screenname of DL4ever or something like that but when I first met him to just do a buddy jerk off thing, he was actually pretty genuine.  Funny guy, completely at ease with himself.  Started off with kinda boring stuff, but then escalated with me sucking him off and I think I keep coming back to him to see if I can somehow maneuver him into bottoming for me.  I've given up though.  I just hit him up when I see him online and want to indulge in some cock sucking.

- The Sexy Cub That Doesn't Know It -

I still get together with the beefy cub with the permanent five o'clock shadow that feels excellent tickling my chest as he curls into me after we play.  The only problem is that we only suck and grind into each other, but fuck if his fuzz doesn't feel good.  He's always telling me his date from hell stories and I still don't know why he keeps on berating his looks.

- Ginger Boarder Bear -

He's a ginger from the south now living it up by the beach, biking and boogieboarding.  A 50s guy into younger twinks, fighting his body type to look slimmer.  Not sure why, 'cause he has a beautiful beefy build.  We've gotten to the point where we're dropping the charade that we're angels and are starting to allude to the fact that we fuck others.  Apparently, he's versatile even though I think that's by necessity since the guys he goes after want him to top.  And I think that's why he keeps hitting me up.  He prefers to bottom and every month or so he drops a line to get his fix.

Whew...  After deleting all the hookups with the guys above from my notes, I still have thirty or so encounters to write about.  Fuck, I'm a whore!

Musings: Attack of the cubs and otters and bears!

I distinctly remember quite a few years back where a contestant on Project Runway was toting how dark wash jeans were hip and and more formal looking and that, in turn, slapped me hard in the face with a memory growing up where I was ridiculed for wearing exactly that.  In the time of acid wash jeans and cross colours, I was wearing prewash 501 jeans.  My parents didn't have two pennies to rub together so I got the ones that were stiff as a board and bled indigo on the racks that they laid on.  It took about a year before they were washed enough to fade in color and another year before they were fashionably distressed and by the time I discarded them, they were cut into shorts, paper thin, but still held my shape without me in it.  But as unfashionable my clothes were, I think my body type was actually kinda the "in" thing.  I was really twinkish back then and the whole clean-cut thing was all the rage.  I mean, even Metallica cut their hair and people were still oogling Zack from Saved by the Bell.  Incongruously, though, what I was attracted to were the 30-something scruffy-faced, hairy leather white guys and the thuggish thick/beefy latin types with shaved heads... and they were kinda hard to find.  Now, though, I'm walking into a club and the demographics of guys with scruff has totally changed and the ratios of those that have touched a razor and those that haven't have drastically changed.  Kids that aren't even old enough to drink are sporting nifty beards.  And I'm totally perplexed by my reaction to this.

So I mentioned race earlier because that was a source of big discomfort with me.  I was just coming out and making sense of things and I took great pride in stripping out all the bullshit and making sure that I was me, not some fucked up social construct that I thought I had to be.  And it really felt awkward that my attractions were stated in my head along racial lines because it just felt like more bullshit coming from the outside and influencing me... And it also seemed to point to me having some unresolved issues of my own ethnicity and possibly even an extension of a warped body image and sense of self.  If asked, I would tell people that I was born in the midwest (which was true) but I would get so irritated when people then followed up with, "No, where are you really from?"  No, really, douchebag.  The midwest IS a real place.  I swear!  But I couldn't tell if that reaction was me getting irritated from their ignorance or me getting called out on and buying into this assimilationist and nationalistic response that promotes disassociation from my heritage.  Basically, in my head, I was wondering if the reason I liked white guys is because the prevalence of media images that are informing me so.  And my only saving grace was that the guys that I could identify that I really liked were in the margins, a niche outside of the twink and jock group that was all the rage.

It was still a small and narrow niche.  And I should be ecstatic that the pool has broadened into a massive lake.  All this fuzziness that surrounds me makes my dick perpetually hard.  At the same time, something feels off.  The past creeps up and I search myself again for the authentic.  Am I not happy fishing in a bigger lake because deep down I wanna be swimming among them?  Even worse: After all this time, did I just hype this up just because it was different than the social norm (sorta like those guys that run away from the campy gay stereotype that they adopt comical affectations of the polar opposite that make you just shake your head...  just be you, dammit!)?

I gotta say though.  Even though this question is coming up again in a different form, it doesn't consume me like it used to...  Cause either way, I still feel like a badass.

Snapshot: He got a kick out of it

The shit you say when you're in the heat of the moment...

I was already kinda breaking an unspoken rule: I was in bed with my neighbor from downstairs.  It just doesn't seem smart.  Kinda like how you don't shit where you eat.  Great chemistry, but we're both tops.  He's an older latin guy with an athletic, lean swimmer's build.  I can overlook the fact that he shaves his chest.  I liked the way his lats bulged out when he maneuvered between my legs and put his weight on his fists, placed on either side of me.  He was damn sexy.  And an awesome kisser.  And he was grinding into me.  I was grinding into him.  And through the passion of it all, our bodies started to bead up with sweat.  And then I said, in a breathless whisper, "Fuck me..."

And he tried.

Whoa!  That broke the spell quick.  Especially when my reacion was to kick out and basically hit him in the face.  Yeah, the needle skidded all the way off the record.  Whoops!  My bad.

Snapshot: Downhill

It was all rolling downhill.  He had a great pic on Grindr.  He showed some pics of a gloriously hairy dude.  And when I saw him in person, it was definitely him but just a little less glamorous.  I loved his fuzziness but his heavy body just seemed to kinda hang on him a bit in an awkward way.  Then we started kissing.  Oiy!  His lips were pursed tightly and his head pecked at me like a chicken, making sucking noises.  I was grandma and his mommy told him to kiss me apparently.

He suited my cock up, but I wasn't really feeling it.  The kissing thing just didn't work for me.  I was slapping his ass with a wet noodle.  I tossed the condom off and before I could make an exit, he was begging for me to fuck him raw.  Hate to admit it, but that changed things.  Why the reluctance to admit this?  Well, I usually take pride in the fact that when I'm with a guy, it's about the connection between us, not some fetish.  Not to say that I don't get into water sports or bondage or whatever, but it's more that the attraction and the connection between us that is the main driver.  We may be like minded pigs and have wild raunchy sex or maybe it's nice and sweet...  even boring.  But it's the connection that drives that, it's a physical expression of some natural raw attraction that you just can't contain.  The what and how is secondary.  We're fucking.  Not my race, my ethnicity, my cum, my piss, my whatever.  So when he wanted to fuck raw and that changed my mind, I paused.  Seems kinda against what I'm usually like, but I rationalized that I was merely drunk on sexual power that a guy changed his mind so quickly about going raw.  I'm not sure that's accurate or that it's even somehow better than my other objections, but I sank my now rock hard cock up his hole.  Ten pumps later, he shoots his load and forces me off.  Ugh.

And now we're at the bottom of that hill and I'm going home.

Snapshot: Ex-Navy

I'm not quite sure what it means for a kid to retire from the Navy at 23.  That's what he said to me on Grindr when I asked him if he was working today.  A short while later, I had the beefy, thickly built kid stripped of his shirt and then twisted his arm behind his back to fold him over onto my kitchen island.

He called himself a bear but he was smooth.  Even cub was a stretch.  Pale.  Large tattoo of a cross over his back made even more prominent from the bright, white canvas it was on.  Another of hands cupped in prayer underneath, passages written to his side.  And now, his ass full of my cock.  And as full as his ass was, my place was completely empty.  The slap of skin on skin echoing across the tile floors of the kitchen.  His grunts cut rapidly in the air with nothing to impede it.  I was just moving into this house and needed to unleash the stress of jamming all my shit together into a small little box on wheels.  Poor lad.  And I didn't have much time.  I was there just to let a couple people in to turn on the utilities, deliver new furniture, and all the other things you have to do make the transition of home to home smooth.  It was a hard, quick, relentless fuck that lasted just a couple minutes before I shot inside him.  And when he felt my cock pulse inside him and paint his insides white, his ass sucked my cock in and he shot off, hands-free, christening the cabinets.  He shot hard.  Didn't get a drop on his jeans that were bunched around his ankles, shoes still on.

When he left, I noticed he walked kinda funny.  And no, that wasn't from me.  And that made me ache a bit.  The ex in ex-Navy.

I was sad.

I wanted to take it back and do it differently.

Snapshot: Contractions

Every time I touch his arms, he flexes.  Fibers under his bicep coil and contract into boulders.  Reflex?  I dunno.  Maybe he's just used to showing off when people touch.  If both my hands were wrapped around, fingers straining to touch fingers, thumb straining to touch thumb, they wouldn't come close.  And the flexing would make my hands explode apart.  I'm sure my own hand would whack myself in the face, accidentally.  This muscle bear could bench press a skyscraper and balance an elephant on his nose at the same time.  Yeah.  He had no neck.  Almost.  Blond hair cut short into a flat top, touches of grey, speckles in his goatee, perfectly trimmed.  A very precise head on top of the wide expanse of shoulders as broad as the mouth of the Mississippi.  Or Nile maybe.  But softened just a little bit.  There's no doubting that the majority of the weight sitting on my crotch was muscle, though.

He had my cock pointed straight at his hole.  It seemed to pucker a bit and suck just the tip in before squeezing harshly.  It's obvious he doesn't bottom often.  His hole is yet another oversized muscle that contracts so hard I think I'll have a permanent kink along the shaft.  Or maybe it's going to just break off.  Short, quick breathes as he stares unflinchingly.  He's determined.

I'm still very hands-y.  Tracing every bulge.  But when I winced from him trying to fuck himself on my rod with just spit as lube and his ass that tight, I reach up and grab both nips and twisted.  I twisted hard.

He howls, his ass loosens it's grip, and I use that moment to thrust up.

I'm in now.

Grab his hips and try to rock him back and forth.  It's impossible without some help.  Like moving a mountain.  But he helps me sway his hips by mere inches.  Once.  Twice.  And he explodes over my chest.

The giant has contracted to an urgent grenade of need.

The student?

I thought he was a college student, but he wasn't.  Or at least, he wasn't living entirely on his own.  His place wasn't too far from campus so I assumed he just had a day off classes and needed someone to scratch an itch that he had.  But by the time I had my face buried in his ass, sucking on his hole and flaring out my nostrils to breathe while simultaneously rubbing my face all up and down the crack to rub his scent on me, I figured it out.  He was living with his parents.  And at point it was a race to see whether my cock could get itself to the finish line before my conscience won out.

Fuck, I love shorter cubs.  Couldn't help it.  I have very little willpower when it comes to short cub types.  He wasn't even old enough to drink yet, but he knew what he wanted.  Just a no-strings fling.  In fact, I could tell he really loved making out but he stopped abruptly, silently telling me that he wasn't looking for that.  Perhaps it was too intimate.  Perhaps he just really wanted a hard cock in his ass and kissing was just getting in the way.  Kinda nerdy, with a cute soft beard tracing his jawline trying to compensate, as he led me through a great room that was decorated in collateral damage from a mature battle of the feminine and masculine.  Swiftly walking through that to his bedroom, which had a contrasting hip vibe.  That was the first sign I was in a family dwelling.

I threw him on the bed and started to suck him.  I felt him lengthen and harden.  More than he already was.  Impossibly more.  Then he pried my face off him grabbed his cock hard, but it was too late.  I brought him over the edge.  And as much as he tried to stop it, cum oozed out.  He gave up the fight and stroked a few times and silently squirted again on his double-crested orgasm.  His chest was heaving.  He was trying to talk, but it took him a sec...

"Its... all... right.  Let's keep going... keep going."

That kid wanted cock in him.  I rivaled that need with the frenzied way I ate him out.  A guy that wants me so bad that he'd endure the hyper sensitive neurons on the other side of cumming.  Love that.  And I used that raw need to fuck to get off quickly.  Just using my own spit from eating him out and the precum I was oozing to work my tool in.  He threw his head back as I hit bottom and I immediately started to pump away.  Threw myself into the fuck before any mental reservations would kick in.  Barely a minute into it I felt the corners of my orgasm and ripped myself from his ass and sprayed his face.  He moaned.  And in full pig mode I mashed my cock into his mouth.

I washed up a bit in the shared bathroom down the hall.  Shared.  And didn't seem like a roommate.

He messaged me after wanting more.

Chatty

There's so many things that could have made the meeting a disaster, but sometimes the equation doesn't balance out on paper but in person, there's some unknown catalyst that makes it all come together like peanut butter and jelly.  Toasted.  On white with the crusts cut off.  First of all, he's a smoker.  He's blond (not really my thing) and doesn't have a car.  Then add to that, he's chatty during sex.  Not verbal, but chatty.  But goddamn if that wasn't the best three hours I've spent in a long while!  Of course, it didn't hurt that the words falling out of his mouth were all feeding the ego and he's the cutest 21 year-old, scruffy faced, sparkly-eyed little otter in miles.  No really.  I met him off Grindr.  He's really the cutest little thing in a 10 mile radius.

Luckily, though, he wasn't the type that was suddenly sharing with you his mother's recipe for chocolate chip cookies while you're slipping him your sausage.  He was actually very connected.  Sonic expressions of what he was feeling that just invoked in you a deep sense of acute empathy.  And just the right dose of encouragement that any top loves to hear.

It started when he broke from a kiss just to earnestly exclaim how I was a great kisser...  with just enough surprise in his voice that gave me room to tease him a bit.  His body was starved for attention and I made sure my hands traced every inch of him as I worked his clothes off.

"God, you have a magic touch."

And when my tongue found his neck and my teeth chewed on his beard, his knees buckled and he sighed.

When the heat of my breath landed on his earlobe, ironically his body broke out in chills.

"You know just where to go and are not the least bit shy, are you?"

That made me undress the rest of him and quickly disrobed.  I'll show him direct.  Worked his shorts down and swallowed his cock whole.  Pubes to nose, I snaked out my tongue to lap at the base of his cock, trying to reach his balls.  Then I sucked it in let it feel the tight constriction at the back of my throat before opening up for the withdraw.

"Fuck, I think I just learned something new."

Yeah, he's young.  But he's been out for awhile.  And I'm a bit sad to hear that he hasn't gotten this type of attention before.  His body is starving for the feel of another hand, aching for the warmth of touch.  And by the time I had him on all fours, finding out that the scrape of my scruff on his back elicits the same response as a hot breath tickling his ear, I thought I had him wanting me.  But he was tense.  Really tense.  Something wasn't right and I pulled back.

"I don't want to break the moment.  I'm...  uh...  Nobody has been back there."

A virgin.  And as much as I would love to be inside him, it just didn't feel right.  It's not what he consciously was looking for.  His body responded accordingly.  I ended up going back to what his body was responding favorably to and by the time he shot, I was slowly stroking him and he shot so hard he hit my headboard.  And the pillows.  And his own face.  And we didn't stop.

After more lazy groping and playing and chatting, I ended up taking his load down my throat.  He felt bad that he hardly reciprocated this session, but I stopped him.  His body openly told me what it wanted and he triple confirmed it with his soft praises.  My body, in turn, wanted nothing but to delight in his open need.  That was the conversation our bodies were having.  And it didn't need to be intellectualized.  This is where the verbal commentary was not needed.  But where I welcomed some commentary is him spreading word about my sexual prowess to others and subsequently feed my ego.  I was kidding, of course.

I think.

Walls

I chipped away at the masonry he's fashioned around himself, sufficiently shielding himself from casual contacts grabbing hold and using him as leverage.  Important in his line of work but thoroughly frustrating for me.  He's a cop.  And I think I've finally convinced him to drop the affectations and bare it all when he drops his clothes in the shelter of my bedroom.  I think I've finally seen him.

The first hint was when I finally convinced him not to contain his cumshots.  He'd block it with his fingers or aim it at some other obstruction that would bear the brunt of the force instead of just letting go and reveling in the sheer pleasure of an orgasm.

Now, we had been going at it for about an hour, making out for most of it and just delighting in the feel of each other's bodies.  And that was enough.  His cock was angry red and pulsed in the air to the rhythm of his heartbeat.  I scorched my hands when I tried to grab it.  Completely different than the first time where we fumbled around together.  It built up to this with every brick I was able to knock down.

I rolled him on top and was grabbing at his ass, pulling him into me as he made fuck motions that mashed the most sensitive parts of us together.  And then he pulled back, grabbed my waist and, hands-free/worry-free, just let it fly uncontained by any barriers between us.  The first shot landed hard against my chin.  The second hit the pillow right next to my ear.  I could hear it land.  The rest showered my chest with long lines pointing to the throbbing meat still thrashing into the air.  Impulses were still being fired to his brain that made him jerk and twitch at the tail of his orgasm when I used his fingers to dip in his cum.  I made him scoop some up so that I could suck on his fingers to jerk out my own load.  It only took four strokes.

And then he laughed.  At first, I thought it was in embarrassment for the mess he made or the absurdity of how it looks with his fingers in my mouth.  So I smiled and asked why.

Different convulsions now.  More of a mental and internal conflict trying to separate the facts from the socially acceptable answers.  Right brain/left brain.  The only sound that came out was gargling noises as a result.  He finally gave up, laughed some more, and collapsed into the crook of my arm, curling up to me to softly chuckle into my chest.

He didn't need to say anything.  I see him now.  The hammer and chisel gone.