Bad Timing

So gotta explain one thing: the name of this blog is actually a reflection of my experience of bumping into a helluva lot of tops out there there are partnered or married or somehow attached.  And it's largely kinda ignored the fact that I have a partner out there and that some of you are keen on the shenanigans of guys like me covering up my tracks (in often woefully inartistic and underwhelming ways).  

But damn if a dick and the addiction of trying to plug it in new conquests doesn't make you do the stupidest things.

I was chatting up a kid on Grindr.  Kid might be actually kinda appropriate here.  Turns out I'm edging closer to that age where younger guys start liking you the same way I lusted after daddy-types in my teens (and okay, okay I still do).  He was home for the holidays and we couldn't quite find a good time to meet up, though.  He couldn't host.  Neither could I.  That is, until his last day in town and my partner decided to go out and run some errands.

Flurry of texts and he hops in the shower and packs up his car for the long drive back to some university.  I'm the quick pitstop before his journey home.  The fill up station dispensing liquid warmth, shot straight to his core.  And a little bit of adrenaline to keep him going.

He arrives at the door.  Blond unkempt curls and the short scraggly scruff of indifference befitting a boy of studies having just finished finals a week prior.  He barely got out of his car when my partner texts me to tell me he's getting drive-thru and will be home momentarily.

Dammit!

I let the kid in and get a half-sentence explanation in about the time constraint before I cave in and pull him to me.  One mild, sweet kiss of soft full lips before the jaws unhinge and restraint snaps.  The fury of pent-up sexual delays, coquettish flirtations of future promise breaks the levee in a wave of now.  I want now.  I need now.  And that soft round ass so pliable in my hands.  The moment that moist flickering tongue dueled with my own, foretelling of talents that would drive me wild I knew I needed to mash myself into him.  Throat, ass...  my dick instantly hardened and wanted to sample it all.

We were barely over the threshold, just inside the door when I pushed him onto his knees.  A blowjob that turned into a skull fuck.  His back to the wall, unable to escape the onslaught.  I pulled him up and bent down to take him to the root, swallowing him to the root in one swift and ungraceful swoop.  And as my throat massaged the mushroom head deep in the back of my throat, my nose caught of whiff of his scent that was left behind, intrinsically his and unable to be masked by the soap and clinically scrubbed from the quick rinse before he had headed over.  My nose just started nuzzling, mouth full, unable to get enough until my insistent cock made me pull back for more attention.

Three laps in and he asks, "So how far away is he?"

"Five miles."

He started to wisely note that wasn't far away when I grabbed his ears and thrust myself down his throat one more time.

Fuck.  He's right.

Reluctantly, I let go.  He peeled himself away.  He had to.  My hands start to clutch at him again.  With a single lingering glance back, he let himself out and slipped through the door.

Moments after he pulled away, my partner drives up carrying an incomprehensible number of paper bags of gluttonous sustenance.  And as I welcomed him home with a kiss, I could still smell the kid's scent reflecting back on my face.

Yeah, I'm pretty fucked up.