Saturday, September 20, 2014

Land of Flakes and Liars

This is going to be a rant.  I traveled to Indianapolis, center of the heartland, for business.  And, I've always heard how nice and genuine and friendly people in the midwest are.  So, in my leisure time I thought perhaps I'd check out the local manscape and perhaps sample some of the corn fed dudes.  Unfortunately, let me share that I have never, ever, anywhere, experienced as many fakes, flakes and liars as I have here the past few days.  Now, I don't want to disparage the midwest as a whole as I've had great times with great men in Chicago who didn't insist on playing ping pong with you for hours, or setting up dates and then when promising to meet at specific times on specific dates only to then refuse to respond to texts for hours after the time you arranged to meet, for you soon after find them on a hook up site within the hour trolling for more guys to string along.  I now have an image of a city of trolls sitting in front of sticky keyboards vigorously stroking.  Trust me, I am not heart broken/I'd have to have an ounce of respect for these creatures to feel that way.  As readers of this blog have read, I regularly get it wet and have great times with great and hot men.  But this place is single in my experience and it's not a function of whether I hit on them --as many of them, instead, hit on me and steadily conveyed a totally insincere  false sense of interest --nor was it time of day as this happened morning, noon, night, weekdays and weekends during this sojourn.  It is just total mendacity unprecedented in my time on this planet.  And it refutes any suggestion that the denizens of this region have any particular lock on kindness:  men in LA, NY, Chicago, Houston, Dallas, Seattle, Austin, New Orleans, Portland, Miami, Denver, and San Francisco are far more honest, far more direct, and far more genuine than these guys.  Perhaps it's because they are so incredibly closeted here that they live in ongoing terror of someone finding out that they like cock.  I recognize how shallow people can be, and it takes little to astonish me, but in my experience the guys here are simply unkind and love to play games.

I do have to confess something; I did hook up:  once.  A guy who was pretty direct and only required the exchange of about 35 emails to set something up and I connected yesterday.  And, when he showed up at my hotel I realized it wasn't a match.  But, he'd come in from about a half hour away and I felt obligated to give it a try.  Yes, it ended up being a charity fuck.  He was actually fairly fit, but you know when it's not right.  I just didn't have the heart to turn him flat down upon his arrival; perhaps I should have from a sexual perspective.  But, when it was over we had a very nice chat and I was glad for that reason that I hadn't sent him packing though the physical part wasn't satisfying.

We met in the lobby and when we got to my room he went into the bathroom to "freshen" up.  When he came out he pulled off his shorts and presented his ass for me to fuck.  Okay, that was a bit sudden.  I usually like an appetizer, a salad, and perhaps some soup before I have the entree.  And, I like my poultry without the feathers.  So I asked him to remove his shirt.  He said "I have alot of tattoos" (it ended up being the understatement of the century.  Then I asked him to remove his hat (!) and he had a tattoo on his forehead (I felt like I was with a mauri in New Zealand or something.)  I don't know why I didn't then say let's just forget it, but I still felt obligated at that point to proceed; the guy was mostly naked with his clothes piled on the floor.  For a broad shouldered, flat stomached  and pretty fit guy with big hands and feet I was surprised to find he had a tiny cock (though I have had that experience before.)  I hate it when a guy keeps his socks on but I was in a "let's get this over with mood" right then.  But I also thought at that point I thought there is no way in hell I would get hard.

Well I let him dive down on my cock, and he went at it with gusto.  If I'd been into him I imagine it would have been a killer blow job.  But I did get from totally flaccid to somewhat enlarged.  He was impressed at that point at how much I'd grown and continued to go at me with gusto, taking breaks to tell me how much he loved cock.  Hoping to get hard enough to do the deed, I pushed him onto to his side and proceeded to suck his,which grew maybe to five inches (I later learned the guy has three children:  go figure.  That certainly challenges assumptions.)  He did have a nice clean man aroma and taste and I licked down his taint to his hole and then pushed him on to his stomach and started to rim him which sent him into orbit.  But, I also felt like a member of the Peace Corps or Christian martyr at that point.  I just wanted to get a distasteful  job done.  My cock wasn't feeling it; there was no way I'd be able to insert it in anything.

Finally I tried making out with him and stroking his cock; he was in ecstasy; it grew from not very pleasant to okay for me.  So, pulling out all the psychological stops I said "please take off your socks." I had an afternoon engagement and the clock was ticking so I then started to give him specific direction to stroke my cock.  He did in a clumsy manner; it got a little better but I had to get increasingly specific "the head"  "stroke the head"  "KEEP stroking the head"  "tickle under the head".  It was getting tedious.  Finally my cock did actually get hard and I quickly pushed him on to his stomach and rapidly pushed into him.  He was cooing and ooing with pleasure; his warmth  and tightness were providing the requisite sensations for me to keep hard.  I started to thrust and then I felt an orgasm come on; now if I am into the guy that never happens (or I can certainly hold off) because I want to wrap my arms around him and enjoy the whole sensation, not just shoot a load.  Well my cock decided for us both that it was time to bring the sorry matter to a close and despite my wanting to give the guy some more thrusts (he'd approached me wanting a long hard fuck) I felt my load spurting into him:  three days built up, in fact.  It was sad and a waste.

I kept thrusting into him but quickly started to grow increasingly soft and he asked if I'd cum.   After I confirmed that I had he rolled out from under me; I asked if I could get him off and he declined, saying it was all about pleasing me.  I felt like a real heel.  Then he got up, grabbed a hand towel to dap his butt and went into the bathroom, murmuring "you really did cum."  He came out and pulled on his socks and shorts, shirt, and hat and running shoes and got ready to bolt.  I patted the bed and said, relax a minute and engaged him in some small talk.

At that point I think his dignity was restored; then he didn't think I just saw him as a cum hole.  He was nice, and appreciated my interest and while we inhabit different planets he was chatty.  I tried not to act at all patronizing but knew in reality I wasn't at all interested, but I hate just using people and I wanted him to leave with his ego unbruised.  But finally I did need to clean up and get ready for a business appointment and walked him to the door, gave him a chaste kiss, and wished him well.

I then thought to myself "you really are an idiot".  Some times you just need to keep your gun in your holster.  I can't wait to fly home.  Indianapolis:  never again.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Lying Back

Only twice have I cum while being straddled and ridden:  today was the second time.  Perhaps gravity has held me back in the past:  my load wants to shoot downward out of my shaft.  Being straddled isn't my favorite position; while it's convenient for pornographers' angles, I also recognize dedicated bottoms love to skewer themselves when they want to get a big cock really deep in them.  Now I do enjoy being stradded by the bottom as part of the experience (provided the guy recognizes that my cock isn't a pogo stick and impales himself with some sensitivity to how I am feeling.)  But today was pretty damned sensational and I gave it up while he milked it out...actually, I came because we were fucking each other, fucking together, each trying to maximize the other guy's pleasure.  It was great sex, the way it's supposed to be, in other words.

Interestingly, the guy in question is a total bottom.  Frankly he doesn't seem to be passionate about whether he cums, but during our encounters I have insisted that he get off as well.  Besides the fact that getting the other guy off is part of the fun, this guy has an amazing dick and huge hairy balls, and shoots copious amounts of spooge so it's a sensory sensation for me too.  But he makes it clear he sees his role as that of a total bottom, and that his "hole" is for my enjoyment.  Now, I know he enjoys getting fucked:  he's not a screamer, but he's really responsive.  And, what has made me smile has been that each time we've been at it for a long time, he'll tell me how much he loves my cock and that I make him  soooo glad he's gay.  However, from the get go his priority is whether I am enjoying myself, whether I feel good, and you can tell that his greatest pleasure is from seeing me cum -- so today looking down me me as he felt me stiffen and spasm he had the smile of a kid with an ice cream cone.  I first experienced that smile during our initial encounter when going for seconds I had him on his back and he broke into a grin when he watched my face contort as I spurted a second load into him (interestingly, when I have cum twice in one session it is typically with the guy on his back as the friction is different, massaging my cock differently.  I'd suggest that it involves different parts of my cock, but I imagine that's impossible when you've already been thrusting your bare cock into a bare ass for 40 minutes...All if it has had some stimulation.)

The fellow in question is endearingly geeky.  Good looking, slender, tiny ass, flat stomach, tiny ass, and nice furry legs and a nice patch of hair in the center of his chest (and as I mentioned, a lovely cock, not as long as mine but a great size:  thick and with heft -- it's just a pleasure to hold and stroke and suck, and he has lovely balls that feel great in your hand and you can tell that he likes having me lightly stroke them with my fingertips.)  Anyway, the geeky part is he's in his early 40s but quite in touch with his inner child with adventure movie posters, Disney figurines, and science fiction stuff festooning his apartment.  He defines himself as a geek, but clearly is a very piggy geek who is definite man who loves mansex.  It's all endearing:  when I arrive it's all about the sex part, but then in between orgasms he wants to cuddle and is sweet and very considerate.  It's quite the ying/yang sort of thing.  But, we are very much opposites:  me a day person, him nearly entirely nocturnal; me a guy of conservative tastes, him into popular culture; me black coffee, him coca cola; me a total top, him a total bottom.

So far we've gotten together three times (does that mean we're done?  I have a feeling we'll actually continue to connect unless he falls in love and decides to be monogamous) and the first two occasions after entering him I held back from cumming early as it was clear  how much ecstasy  he was experiencing getting plowed.  He's also into feeling the pain/pleasure of it (not in a weird way, but likes to have his nipples squeezed hard and lightly bitten as well as to take a sustained drilling and it to be regularly punctuated with sudden long, deep thrusts.  Actually those thing don't bring me pleasure as my preference is to have the guy flat and to suck the back of his neck and steadily grind him into the mattress till I cum -- if I am just thinking about me.)  Anyway, as I have mentioned in earlier entries if I am fucking a guy and  my initial urge to cum passes then it means I'll  need be at it for at least 20 more minutes, dismounting for cool down sessions before the lava will rise again.

During our first encounter before I came I could tell he was close to cumming and asked if he could still take it after shooting his load.  He said yes, he came, and then I licked it from his torso, snowballed with him, and then spit it on his hole and used it as lube.  But after I'd given up two loads he later admitted he was sore from taking it after he came (cripes, this was nearly two hours later; I felt like a heel and since then I haven't let him cum till I am definitely done.)  However, he's so agreeable and wants so much to be submissive and please ("my hole is for your pleasure...") that he insisted it was fine and that he enjoyed the rawness of the feeling.

Today I was definitely enjoying it but Mr. Happy wasn't about to let go of his juice.  It all began with him giving me an amazing blow job and then he straddled me and attempted to take it mostly dry (it didn't work, and frankly I'd didn't want to have the epidermis rubbed off my bone, so after initially entering him after rimming him, and a combination of his and my spit I insisted on some lube.  Anyway, it was a marathon session with me pinning him to the mattress, getting him on his side with his thigh pulled up, and then our coupled cuddling:  sweet as you can kiss, but not good for maximum penetration. But neither of us was in an apparent hurry (though I was thinking it might be one of those days where I can only finally cum by later stroking off, which is really frustrating.)

We've gotten to a point where he appreciates I want him to maximize his pleasure as well, and I soon found him straddling me.  Often with sex you want it to be spontaneous and for the other guy to intuit how to position himself, but today I directed him to lift up a bit and then we both were really enjoying it simultaneously:  rather than his weight pinning me and him impaling himself the position allowed him to thrust down and for me to thrust back.  It was great.   But each time as I thought I was about to shoot Mr. Happy clammed up (pardon the metaphor.)  So he dismounted and we cuddled and made out, stroking our cocks together and simply enjoying each others' naked bodies.  Then he got on top again (I could tell he was surprising himself.)  And then we got into some serious fucking with us staring with intent into each others's eyes.  And then I finally let go and with determination he thrust down and squeezed with all his concentration.  Eventually my cock eased out of him and he leaned over to suck it.  As we laid side by side more cum gradually dripped out of my cock, and studying it he swooped down each time to lap it up.  He observed:  "my hole is really going to hurt tomorrow."

I told him that it was only the second time I'd ever cum while being straddled and a look of pride and accomplishment swept across his face.  He said he didn't want to get a big head about being a good bottom as it was all about the top, but you could tell he was enjoying recognizing his power (geez:  did I turn this guy into a power bottom?)  He mentioned that he could tell that he was fully enjoying it while we were fucking as his cock was partially flaccid, meaning that his concentration was entirely on using his ass.  But eventually in my afterglow I said "I don't know if I can fuck you any more, but let me know how we can get you off."  Clearly he felt a challenge and swooped down on my cock and applied every possible trick with his mouth, tongue, and lips till I was painfully (painfully as from the earlier marathon fucking I'd given him with it) hard.  Then he straddled it and began to stroke his cock, insisting "keep fucking me after I cum; I want to keep taking it as long as you want it."  Well, at that point I just wanted to get him off; I was fucked out  and fortunately soon a stream of his warm cum was pooling on my chest and he was shyly grinning.  Then I delicately pushed him up and slipped out from under him.  My cock was almost audible in it's relief.

It was great, but I knew I needed a hiatus.  If it had been a sleep over I'd be probably fucking him again right now.  But sometimes your eyes are bigger than your stomach (another regrettable mixed metaphor:  mea culpa.)  After a decent interval (I never jump up to leave a guy) I protested we should do something vertical with the rest of our days and he reluctantly let me dress.

My cock tender sensitive right now, I can only imagine how he's feeling.  My parting advice was him to avoid Mexican food tonight (sorry, I just couldn't resist; it got a good laugh out of him.)

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Silver Daddy

Some times you are trolling looking for cock and you get into an online conversation with a guy who you simply find charming and engaging.  He gives off a good vibe and you know that whether fireworks go off or not, it will simply be a warm and comfortable time.  Of course, it helps if he has nice equipment and is otherwise nice on the eyes.  And, for me, when a guy engages in an element of due diligence (insisting on seeing what I look like; asking a couple of questions requiring multisyllabic responses) that sustains my interest.

A couple of months ago an older gent and I were flirting on line.  I find it funny to say older gent, as typically I am referred to as a daddy.  But this guy was definitely daddy material for me.  Very well maintained daddy material:  tall, toned, whippet thin, bald with a full, trimmed, silver beard, ice blue eyes, and a big ass cock (excused the mixed metaphor.)  And, a bottom!  Be still my heart!!!

Beginning the communication I wanted to assure he was sufficiently ambulatory and quick witted (I have to admit, blush, a couple of years ago hooking up with an older guy/thinking I was above that age thing/ and I thought I was going to break him, and then he wasn't quick on the uptake in communication. And, this guy wasn't ancient, which kind of put me off way older guys.) But, this guy clearly looked like he was active and in conversation was giving me back all I gave him and more.  What I also liked was that he insisted on our talking on the phone for a bit to feel me out before asking me over.  But, once we both went through the dance of seven veils it was clear that this courtly gentleman is a pig as well.  A proper pig, mind you, who likes vigorous fucking, and sucking, and cum.  He bashfully admitted to wanting to be felched after being fucked and I was game provided that he had a  garden fresh hiney and would make out with me after I went there.  And, the icing on the cake is that he, too, hates deodorant.  Fresh musk, no funk:  we were reading from the same sheet of music.

When I arrived the most telling thing about his age were his eyes, which revealed having seen much:  still clear, but worldly and surrounded by wrinkles.  His body, however, is that of a man easily 10 to 15 years younger, and you can tell he's kept active (I was relieved to learn through things like biking, hiking, swimming and skiing.  Guys who tell you that they work out eight days a week at the gym, and quiz you about what gym you go to, and want to know if you'd like to go to the gym with them bore me to death.  With them it's all about appearance --how beautiful they can be, not health or well being;  a new form of elitism, and they are buying into the cosmetic culture that has oppressed women for nearly a hundred years.  Also I can't stand this crap about guys who like to suck and get fucked protesting "I don't act gay."  But  I am from a different generation.  I am attracted to men because they are men and recognize that makes me gay. But, this is turning into a rant.)

Anyway, when I met this guy I could imagine him having been a character in one of Armistead Maupin's "Tales of the City" stories; he's clearly from the same era and the same neighborhood.  He greeted me at the door, led me into his living room, and once he closed the doors his arms were wrapped around me and his lips pressed to mine and his tongue was probing my mouth.  For a moment I wondered whether we'd make it out of his living room, but was glad when one of his firm, hard hands grasped one of mine and led me into the bedroom.

As he disrobed this is what I found:  broad shoulders; tapered waist, flat stomach, taut cute ass, fine dusting of fur accenting all of assets, long (then) flaccid cock.  Damn.  I stripped and we got on the bed and embraced and sucked face and then I went to his nipples which were wired for sound (love that; mine are like erasers and it actually irritates me when some guy tries to work them for me.)  Well, I soon licked from the nipples to the pits and inhaled the nice rich musk of a clean healthy man and buried my beard in it and then vigorously licked it, and it's twin out.  He loved savoring his aroma in my beard and stache as we repeatedly returned to making out.  This was quality time sex between two experienced guys, who were in no rush to get to the destination but wanted to savor the journey as long as possible.

I licked down to his cock and sucked it to full mast and enjoyed its musk and taste, and then licked down to his hole and he dutifully grasped his ankles.  But I wanted to seriously explore it so I had him on his stomach and wasn't satisfied till the volume was up.

Well, it went the usual way:  me teasing his entry with my cock head, him giving me nice serious ball soaking head, me eating his ass while he sucked me some more, and then me gradually pushing into him.  He wasn't about drama:  you could tell he was enjoying it from his slow exhaling; pants of caution or encouragement, and then my balls were against his torso. He purred with satisfaction and then the rhythm started.

Apparently it had been awhile since he's last been fucked, but like riding a bike he'd not forgotten how to do it.  It was a quality fuck and soon I was stiffening and quietly spurting into him (many guys are disappointed that I don't yell out or go into some  other histrionics when I cum; however, it's a time when I am totally in my head and my's as if my soul is spurting through my dick up into the guy's rectum.  I am more likely to be audible after I shoot when my cock becomes super sensitive and I then become amazingly ticklish all over.)  We were then on our sides, his ass and back were wet with sweat, and my cock slowly slackened and eased out of him.  I lightly grazed his nipples with my fingertips, sucked on the back of his neck, and licked the inside of his ears.  He rolled out from under me, straddled my chest and then vigorously stroked off on my chest, then laid on top of me as I wrapped my arms around him and his load glued us together.

We then laid side by side and engaged in small talk, eventually shyly reaching out to stroke the other's body with our fingers and respectively growing hard again.  Remembering his fantasy I pushed him onto his belly and started to eat his ass, now yeasty with my load, and then pulled his face to mine to make out.  Then I pushed into him and gave him a short vigorous fuck and delivered a second load.  Nearly three hours had passed when I stood up to pull on my clothes.

I've been over once since then; I didn't have the time for an afternoon, so it was more of a maintenance visit (a high quality maintenance visit, but only an hour plus.)  Since then, however, we've been unable to connect but are playing email ping-pong in a good way.  Even if we never fuck again I really like this guy and am damned glad to have met him.

Thursday, August 14, 2014


While busy on Tumblr, I have taken a lengthy hiatus here.  And, yes, have been keeping my gun in my holster more than usual.  However, there are several piquant entries percolating in my memory that have yet to be shared here.  One follows.

Back a month or so ago a local toned cub and I engaged in dialog; both of us wanted immediate gratification. As it was, his partner was out of the country for a month on business and he had an itch he wanted scratched.  A nice looking dark haired, blue eyed, bearded dude, with body hair accenting all the right places in all the right ways.  Yum.  And, a bottom; what wasn't to like?  He also responded well to my interest in a clean hole and bod devoid of scent but that of his own making.  So, despite his living in Oakland I overcame my trepidation and headed over to his place.

Oakland does have a well deserved reputation for being like Dante's Inferno, but there are nice spots (right, I can hear you saying, there must be nice parts of hell as well...)  His neighborhood, despite not being in the Hills, exudes character and charm and is full of normal, industrious citizens.  So I parked my car, and found my way to his rooftop garden apartment.

He was the epitome of warmth and hospitality when I arrived.  Hook ups are often intially awkward, but his warm smile, offer of water, or coffee, or a beer and a seat to chat made me immediately shed all inhibitions.  I declined all four and pulled him toward me and pressed my lips to his and pushed my tongue into his mouth.  He exuded an earthy, musky, natural man aroma (I later learned that in deference to my fetish, after thoroughly flushing out, he'd only rinsed his pits with clear water.)  Animal frenzy ensued.

A futon was in the middle of his curtainless living room and we were surrounded by high rise apartments, essentially visible to God and everybody.  He lives in an art deco building and from his terrace voices echo, so he pulled the sliding glass doors shut as he stood there naked in his hirsute glory with his engorged cock standing straight out.  I pulled him down and proceeded to give him a thorough tongue bath, punctuated with breaks to make out, and gradually leading down to his leaking cock.   I did my utmost to torture him with killer oral, pulling off every time he seemed ready to spew, and then sucking his balls, and eventually licking down to the target.  It was a good thing he closed the doors as his affirming moans and groans were bouncing off the walls.

This guy looks, feels, smells and tastes succulent, and I soon flipped him over to pull his hairy cheeks apart and give his hole thorough attention.  Eventually it was sufficiently wet and relaxed for me to repeatedly penetrate it with my tongue.  A stream of clear precum was flowing from his cock, which compelled me to roll him back to lap it up and, not being selfish, to make out with him again.  I got him positioned on his belly and started to run my cock up and down his saturated crack regularly grazing his pucker.  He wanted it in, but begged to suck my cock.  It was clear this was going to be a spit only session.

He gives great oral and as his drool was flowing down my balls I positioned him so that his ass was back in my face while he worked my rod.  God it was good.  Soon he was straddling me and skewering himself with my cock. It popped in and then gradually slid up into him as his guts yielded to welcome me balls deep.

Well this was a quality time fuck. After riding me I moved him back to his belly, his side, and  then doggie, before pushing him flat again and then drilling for gold.  Like a true bottom his eyes gleamed with excitement as my cock started to spasm and he thrust up with all his might to meet me as I thrust down. (Later he'd text me about how great his stretched hole felt, as he felt my load leaking in him as he perused the aisles at Whole Foods.)

After awhile my cock slackened and plopped out to his disappointment.  He quickly crouched around to greedily suck in into his mouth and to suck it totally dry. But then I had him on his back and focused on getting his load:  he shivered and groaned as it shot out, across his hairy belly, into my mouth, with the rest cascading down his cock.  It was remarkably thick, like toothpaste, which he attributes to some natural herbal concoction he takes.  I pulled him toward me and we snowballed, and then I sucked it back in my mouth, pushed him onto his stomach again, spit it on his hole and fucked it up into him to join mine.

We kept at it, but my cock wasn't going to give up a second load inside him, so I rolled onto my back where he extracted it orally, but swallowed it up quickly.  By that point I reeked of his scent:  my beard was saturated as were my pubes and every other hair on my body.  It was nirvana.

I jumped in his shower so that dogs and cats wouldn't follow me home, but his musk remained in my beard well into deep shampooing the next day when I finally washed it all out with deep regret.  But as I dressed and prepared to leave I noticed that he was glistening:  with my sweat, his sweat, and the remnants of the loads I hadn't lapped up from his fine bod.  We embraced and I inhaled deeply.

We hooked up two times afterwards.  They were quality time, but not the three hour session of our first encounter.  But then my schedule didn't sync with his,  then his with mine, and  now apparently the partner is back.  I am sorry to say he didn't respond to my last message, which wasn't hitting on him, but was just to say hi.  Apparently when home both he and the partner work from their place and he's flying under the radar (or the partner is fucking him silly/probably both.)  I've noticed he's been absent from the site where I located him.

Years ago I remember hooking up with a guy who coldly noted that typically the maximum number of times you hook up with the same fuck buddy is three before moving on to different pastures.  (Gee thanks bud, should we just say quits now?) That hasn't always been true for me, but it's definitely the rule more than the exception.  I hope to get more of this guy again, but am damned glad for the three times we enjoyed.  He's got a damned lucky partner.

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Good to the Last Drop

I realize that popular culture references immediately date you.  So, I am imaging that all the puppies out there won't get that reference (this entry's title) and will only associate it with water sports or pig play.   However, it was the tag line for Maxwell House coffee (is that still sold?) and is indelibly etched on my brain like so many other commercial jingles of years past.

Of course, I am only referencing it because it is quite apropos in recollecting an encounter a few days ago. So after the twink encounter last Saturday, when taking a mental health day earlier in the week I reconnected with a bear with whom I periodically connect (entries in this series reference him, but I can't be bothered with providing a hot link. Anyway, does it matter?)  I ought to refer to this guy as Gentle Ben (another historical flashback to my youth...)  He is tall, muscular, furry,and fleshy with a big, but nicely toned belly, and amazing thick, long, log of an uncut cock that only slowly becomes engorged while we are having sex and is quite fun to explore. (The thing with uncut cocks, however, is that the novelty vanishes when the guy gets hard.  Yes, you can pull the foreskin back up, but I am only intrigued when the member is partially flaccid...)

This was yet another maintenance visit; he's partnered, must not bottom for his partner, and loves to occasionally get a lengthy, deep fucking, and since he's nice, can take it for a long time (and affirms with steady grunting and moaning that he savors every poke and thrust) I enjoy giving it to him.  There are no fireworks here:  just nice, pedestrian fucking.   He is very very very chatty, and that can be maddening, but he usually is reduced to monosyllabic sounds when we are in the heat of it.

The craziness of how mechanical can be immediately struck me.  I arrived, we were talking about his dogs and the weather as we both, by instinct, walked through his house to the bedroom, and the mundane chitchat continued as we both stripped.  When we were both naked, however, I pulled him to me, pressed my lips to his and thrust my tongue into his mouth, and the talking temporarily ended (thank God.)

I was in the mood give my tongue a work out.  This guy's pits don't do anything for me, and I did work his very sensitive nipples a bit (though that was more of a mechanical courtesy because I understand his wiring.) But I really lost myself in giving his cock devoted attention with a lengthy blowjob and then my tongue and his hole enjoying some quality time.  Now I like (and demand) good hygiene, but some guys --right after thorough cleaning-- generate some pleasant man musk in their balls and hole.  Not this bud, alas.

The rimming did reduce him to whimpering jello (yes, quite the mixed metaphor there) and I rose and started to make out with him and he grasped my cock, aimed it under his balls and held it next to his hole and thrust back so that I entered him.  It felt good, but it was actually his enthusiasm and hunger for it that had me cranked. But only 3 inches were in him, so I rolled him over, shoved some pillows under him to elevate his ass, and entered him.

It was a great vanilla type fuck.  No rush, he was up for whatever I wanted to give him, and he wasn't nagging me to cum.  So I got lost in my mind, savoring my cock being gripped by his warm, soft, wet guts as I sawed back and forth into him, leisurely licking his back, his neck, and the inside of his ears, while I was enjoying grinding it into him with no deadline confronting me.  He was equally lost in the sensation, moaning and sighing and occasionally snorting poppers.  And, after a nice long ride I felt my load spurting into him; he could sense I was cumming and thrust back to fully capture it.

I gradually started to soften somewhat and my cock naturally began to withdraw from his ass; he gasped with pleasure/discomfort as it popped out.  And then he immediately curled down to take me in his mouth and lovingly nursed it, bringing it back to full mast and determinedly milking out the remaining drops of cum in my shaft.  He kept at it for a long time; it was incredibly hot.  I love the lust when a guy is anxious to lick my cock "clean" after I've just fucked him.  We then made out for awhile, and then he started to get chatty again.

Since I wasn't in the mood to lie around and bullshit, I saw my opportunity when he went to the bathroom and started to get dressed.  Sometimes when I go over it turns into a cuddle session, me listening to him unwinding, and then me figuring out how to get my cock back in his mouth and butt to shut him up.  But, I was sated, and headed out and he was able to focus, again, on his home improvement projects.  So we both got what we needed.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Cradle Robber

Okay, I think I just joined the ranks of dirty old men.  But, what I did was legal...but, in my mind barely.

This twink has been checking me out on line for a couple of weeks.  I found it flattering.  Upon logging on I'd regularly see him among those having visited my profile.  However, I am definitely into older guys; typically my age threshold is 30, but I prefer guys 40 and up (I used to think that distinguished me in the gay community, but lots and lots and lots of guys seem to prefer older guys.)  Among other things it's nice to be with someone who has a modicum of experience and an iota of how to go through the moves.  And, often younger guys are afraid that kissing will mean they are queer (God forbid.)

I have been incredibly busy at work and besides putting in ridiculously long days, and working all weekend as well, I have been dead dog tired.  Last week I took a hiatus (maybe even the week before?) from mantail, but this morning I woke up with that returning worry.  "It's been a long time...what if I forget how? <small joke gents>  Am I losing interest?"  One of the ironic things about having sex, at least for me, is that the more that you have the more that you crave.  If you take a break (diet so to speak) then it's easier to keep your gun in your holster.

This morning I stumbled out of bed early, and started to post on Tumblr, which started to have some technical issues.  So, while drinking my coffee and slowly regaining consciousness I logged on to various sites (yes, I could have read the morning paper that was lying unmolested next to me on the couch.)  Then I started to hear a chorus:  my iphone and laptop serenading me with tones to advise me I was getting hit up.  It was the aforementioned twink:  22 years old.  Very cute; thick hair in an early 60s Beattle style cut (very retro; apparently everything comes back) young and fresh looking.  Also the look of someone how takes good care of himself --healthy skin, clear eyes, perhaps a recent college graduate as opposed to trailer trash.  He got points for typing multisyllabic words (though punctuated with the usual text abbreviations and vernacular) so I was assured this guy had a three digit iq.

I imagined this wasn't going any where, so I dispensed with the dance of the seven veils and got directly to the point in terms of what I like.  He responded pretty promptly and in a reassuring and persuasive fashion.  He wanted to travel; so did I.  However, he really wanted my cock and suddenly he was saying I could come over.  But he wanted immediate gratification.  After 20 minutes of email ping pong I had his cell number and address.  He only had time for a quickie, so this was going to be a fast food moment.  However, the kid was recently tested, sent pics of a fine looking hole, and wanted to be bred.

Well I was in my robe and felt funky; for sure I needed to rinse.  As I was stepping into the shower when he called to find out if I was almost there.  My gps did indicate he lives only 2.9 miles from my house; dangerously close.  He indicated that he had a studio in a private home.

Clean and quickly clothed I found myself driving into the land of the 1%; seriously huge tasteful homes (all too often those terms are mutually exclusive) with huge lots in some of the most expensive real estate in the planet.  I pulled onto a private road and parked; waiting for the police to materialize and ask me if I was lost.  I pulled out my phone and texted him; momentarily I saw a concerned looking, bespeckled cute very young looking guy in a tee shirt, shorts and athletic sandals standing in the roadway staring at his cell phone.  I approached him, he mumbled something I couldn't hear, and then I followed him.  We approached a beautifully landscaped 6,000 sq ft house (flag stone driveway), walked to the driveway's right and passed through two cedar gates where I then saw a cute cottage that matched the main dwelling.  It became clear that the mother ship is the family home and he's in the cottage post college graduation till "he's on his feet."

The cottage defined mess; it looked like a hurricane went through it and the bed was covered with laundry being sorted.  He led me to an equally messy couch; all the furniture was cast off from the main house and suggested that the good taste ended at the exterior (the bad taste of many wealthy Californians regarding interior furnishings never ceases to amaze me. It might have been cast off but I'd never have owned it in the first place.)  I asked if we could use the bed but he wanted the couch.

I rarely like to fuck, or to even get sucked off, standing.  My thought was that even if I started fucking him I wasn't going to cum.  Despite his claiming lots of experience, and the limited time, I had to provide direction.  But once I lowered my pants he was at my cock like a dog with a bone (pardon the pun.)  He said loved my Daddy Dick but I wanted to fuck him and knew we had little time.  I encouraged him to turn around and pull his pants down.  He was nice and firm, with maybe 10 lb he could lose (6' tall).  I bent down to taste his ass (yummy) and he immediately hissed with pleasure, but I knew we lacked enough time.  He wanted it in him; I noticed a tube of something nearby but pushed my cock head against his hole and it welcomed me in with no resistance.

Now this was some damn fine boy hole.  Firm.  Fresh.  Taut.  And he wanted it.  All. Of. It.  I slid all the way into him and it quickly felt perfect; I knew I'd cum.  While fucking him he was sighing telling me how great it felt and asking if I liked his hole; Christ, I could have fucked him all day.  But, I realized I didn't want to hold back a second as the wave might pass.  I was only fucking the kid for about 5 minutes and then I felt it spurting.  Now this had to be an all time record for me cumming.  And, while not fully standing I was still supporting myself with my feet, though partially kneeling on the couch to fuck him.  He asked if I was cumming and thrust his ass against my pelvis and squeezed down.

He told me to keep fucking him and to give him another load (then I saw he still has braces and his teeth and felt like a true predator.)  He said "fuck that load deeper into me; give it to me hard/I can take it."  I started to plow him and he was stroking his dick, but wasn't cumming.  He asked for my load again and I told him we didn't have time (ah, I remember when I was 22 and could shoot consecutive loads in rapid order...)

I eased out and he said "let me taste it" and greedily dropped to his knees to suck it. He told me he wanted me to regularly fuck and own his ass (I could easily be persuaded.)  Then he sat back against the couch with a glaze on his eyes and started to stroke his cock, which was already streaming precum (about 6" /nice.  I wish I'd gotten to taste it.)  Then I saw the milky load cascade up and out of his pee slit.  And, like clockwork he said "we're out of time" (sorry, another unfortunate pun.)  I smiled and said I knew and pulled on my pants, socks and shoes.

He told me to stay put while he checked to make sure his dad wasn't home and provided me with an alibi for being there if I ran into him (well, beats having to confront a wife, I figured.)  The coast was clear, and then I was on my way.  Twenty minutes tops.

Driving home (savoring that great drained balls feeling)  I got a text saying I'd given him a great fucking (kid, you haven't experienced anything yet.)  He wants an encore soon; I am game.  A follow up text suggested the family might be going away in March.  Sounds like March might involve some quality time.

Not related addendum.  After fucking the kid I went shopping.  Ran into this late 30s dude; very jock like.  Firmly affixed baseball cap; fine muscular calves; broad shoulders filling out a freshly laundered tee shirt; cargo shorts; running shoes.  Walked like he had a full diaper; vigorously chewing gum; typical jock needing to take up the walkway macho shit, pretending not to see anyone else and in alpha dog style making other people step aside as he brushed past them and refused to make eye contact.   Constantly snorting and loudly and consciously sniffling to clear his nostrils in an audible fashion.  He all but hawked up a clam to spit on the floor. Brusquely interrupted and cut off the salespeople trying to answer his questions. Stereotypical straight guy (wedding band; I am sure he thinks she's really lucky and that his 5.5" is really 9.5") This guy looked to be a college educated, suburban dad/husband .  However, also the type that thinks standing in line, standing aside so that others might pass, listening to an answer, saying please and thank you and making eye contact are effeminine qualities.  I run into guys like this all of the time! Anyway, is there some school for straight guy crude, uncouth, rude, self centered, behavior?   Does missing that grade make you gay?  I clearly missed it.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Breaking Him In

Just had a maintenance visit from the BLB (bossy little bottom.)  Of course, it was me scratching his itch.  But today I determined --as the top-- I was getting "on top" as far as directing the action.

When he arrived he was of the impression I had limited time and was in a hurry.  I wasn't, but I realized that provided an advantage in terms of directing the action (like viya con dios when I decided I was through.)

He is as cute as a bug's ear:  5' 7" and all of 120 lb.  On top of that, he keeps toned at the gym, so has nice tight buns and defined pecs adorned my nice dark --and very sensitive-- nipples.  As we made out I was again confronted by second hand garlic (he brushes and is consistently squeakly clean, but must ingest considerable garlic.  So do I, but I don't believe I taste of it.)  Yet he is a good kisser and I can get past the garlic (it would be better, however, if he'd just finished a meal of it, instead of sweating it.)

As we got naked he told me to eat his ass; I immediately thought "oh no, this isn't going to be a bossy bottom session."  His ass was doggie style in the air, so on a minor note I directed him to lie flat if he wanted it eaten. And, so the session began.

He was anxious to get fucked, very anxious to get fucked.  He crouched down to suck my dick and pronounced "this is MY cock!"   Oh my.  But that was soon followed by the usual litany:  "am I your boy?  Do you want your boy's ass?  How much do you want your boy's ass?"

After him getting my cock really wet I made him mount me.  It was incredible feeling him hold still with his anus pressed against my cock head; then feeling the anus gradually relax and open inviting my cock to penetrate.  I could almost hear a pop when it went in/I sure as hell could feel it.  And then, I slowly and pleasurably eased up into him; feeling his guts gradually stretching to accept me.  He wanted to get on his back but I said "no, stay this way; I want it this way for awhile."  And, he snapped to "whatever you want Daddy!"  Now I have only cum a few times with a guy straddling me, and although it felt great, this was about making a point.  It was nice with him gradually sliding up and down  me and he was suddenly greedy with lust and kept bending over to kiss me.  It was very nice.  I grasped his thighs and thrust up; I knew I had to be well beyond the curve and can't imagine how he must have felt.  This is a little guy and I was definitely balls deep.

He asked me if I could cum that way and I said no, so we got him on his back.  He was gasping in incredible pleasure and kept pulling me down to make out.  Typically with him it takes a bit to get to where he can take my entire cock:  today we were there quickly and then he was begging me to let him have it hard.  I started pulling back and giving him long, full dick thrusts:  his eyes were bugging, and I had his full attention:  I could see a mixture of agony/ecstasy across his face.

Now, at the risk of too much information, after the marathon fucking I gave the Salvadoran a couple of weeks ago (followed by a fuck tutorial I conducted with the all too tight Kiwi--mentioned in some entries) combined with the dryness of winter, my cock had become chaffed, and the skin under the head dried out.  It actually peeled and required some neosporin (I knew it was time to take a break, though I did need to rub one out daily to keep from going insane.)  So while my cock has healed, it's still a tad dry under the head.  Therefore, while I hadn't fucked anyone in two weeks, the connection wasn't coming on/in other words, I wasn't feeling like I was going to cum.

The boy was urging me to make his ass mine (i.e. to cum in him) but I could tell it wasn't going to happen then.

However, I was simply enjoying the fuck.  He was tight; his ass soft and warm.  I was enjoying feeling engulfed by his guts and had him on his back, grasped his foot and was sucking his toes as I plowed him.  I thought: why the rush?  Today when he tried to stroke his cock while I was fucking him (which is annoying as well as distracting) I grasped the offending hand and held it firm against the mattress.  Dad was in control/I'd decide when he came.

Lately when fucking some guys (clearly not the Salvadoran) they are in such a hurry to get bred.  I get it when they are getting sore and have reached the "I can't take it any more point"  (the Kiwi was there quickly, but wanted to feel my load inside him.  I will write that up another time.)  Anyway, as the top I thought, I am calling the shots here kid, and I wasn't in a rush.

At a point I pulled out and said I'd like to take a break.  He doesn't want to lie on his stomach to get fucked --my preferred position to plow a guy (and sure to summon my load) and prefers his back.  When we went back to it I had him on his back, but he was totally comfortable with my entire cock up in him and with deep thrusts, so I gradually worked him on to his side.  Now the irony here is that with his thigh pulled up to his chest and me thrusting in with him on his side, he was clearly getting it far deeper than he would on his stomach.  And he was loving it.  We were making out and he was panting and gasping and groaning and just plain wild with pleasure enjoying it.  I am pretty sure this was the longest we'd fucked; I know it was the deepest and hardest I'd given it to him.  And then it all came together in my mind and the load started to rise. And, he has learned to stop badgering me while I am fucking him.  He allowed me to savor the load spurting into him, and took the time to enjoy it.  He only begged me not to pull out and to continue fucking him.

I gradually eased him from his side to just on his back, and without exiting.  He started to vigorously stroke and then "splat" it hit the pillow.  Hysterical.  This boy shoots an enormous load.

Well after he cums you can hear the switch go off.   It's up off the bed, wiping himself with a towel, and into the shower.  All good, however; I was done and wanted to move on.

Now I can focus for the rest of the day.  Hopefully next time he'll remember that I call the shots.