I was reminded of Yogi Bera's comment "deja vu all over again" yesterday. So I had the morning free/had a lot of stuff to do in the afternoon, and I woke up early, my horns were on, and I wanted to fuck.
The Arab and I keep missing each other/he usually has 400,000 things to do Saturday morning and then around noon will write and say "are you free at 2:47?" Much as I'd like to be at that point I am usually in the middle of something (and have spewed my load somewhere else, or rubbed two out by that point." So, that preface was to note I started by texting the Arab but knew the chances were those of a snowball in hell that he'd actually say he was free (later, as usual, he wrote and was astonished when I wasn't free mid-afternoon. But, I digress...)
So I was logged on to the usual sites and this cub with "breed" in his profile name came on to me. Something seemed vaguely familiar, though the town in which he listed that he lived didn't square with the one that was coming to mind. A black guy was coming to mind and this guy claimed to be Puerto Rican and black (which sounded pretty hot/I love Puerto Ricans.) We played message ping pong and after we established status he wanted to clarify that he is allergic to latex (mentally, perhaps...) I responded that I was of the impression he wanted to be fucked bare and for me to shoot my load deep in him on the basis of his moniker/he seemed surprised that I wasn't negotiating. My sense is that guys don't usually joke about that. Normally that type of directness is a yellow light for me, but it seemed as if it was a straight on conversation to that point (pardon the mixed metaphor.) Then when I asked for his address it was actually a blue collar (hardscrabble) town to the north east, which never gives me a great vibe and where I have ventured three times before and had weird experiences. My cock was doing the thinking at this point and I decided to roll with it.
As I drove north it was all very familiar/too familiar. When I pulled up to the house I was thinking to just turn around and head home/this was the site of one of my "Frightening Friday" experiences last year. But my cock was thinking and I thought I could exit if I wasn't feeling it. (Digression: once years ago I went to a guy's condo to fuck him/it was an enormous condo in a behemoth condo complex where everything was identical and it was hard to find. He had a roommate who lived elsewhere in the enormous place. Months later I was approached by a guy on line and his address was the same condo complex. After parking and walking in I got the feeling I was in a place I'd been before. However this time I parked in the front, not the back, entered through the front door, not the back door, and was in a different part of the condo, but I quickly realized I was hooking up with the roommate. Amazing coincidence. No, we never did a threeway/as it ended up they didn't get along and the first one was out of town when I came to play with the second.)
Well as I entered the house there was a rolly polly black guy just out of the shower with a towel wrapped around him: deja vu. Last time we fucked in this horrible tiny room piled with random clothes and dreck on a rump sprung mattress. I was ready to leave but he led me into a large bedroom with a queen sized bed and firm looking mattress. However, the messy chest of drawers had about a thousand bottles of woman's perfume on it. I asked if he was married and he said we were going to use his cousin's room. Something seemed fishy, pardon the expression (ahem.)
Little lies bug me/ they suggest more serious lies to worry about. The room had similar squalor, though not as acute as the rest of the house (dusty, stuff heaped everywhere.) It wasn't very different than the rest of the house and I was wondering whether he now has a female partner (some of the sad slippers in the bedroom looked like they were his.) Also, there is absolutely nothing that suggests Puerto Rican culture in the place, but amidst the dreck there were a serious number of African American images (art, posters, etc.) Again I am quick to note inconsistencies in story and this wasn't all adding up. Later I mentioned he'd have a lot of laundry to do (if I was a housemate I'd think it weird if the other person washed my sheet and made my bed.) He responded he'd just do the top sheet and I was thinking how pissed I'd be if I was sharing a house to find the house mate was using my bed to fuck in/again, this wasn't adding up.
Besides being fat (solid, but big tits, big belly with serious handles, big ass) this guy must not do anything at home. Yet, I was thinking with my dick and he was personally clean, and is actually a cuteish guy. We kissed and the guy is an amazing kisser. So I went with the flow.
Now for all of you out there with a Mandingo fantasy I need to burst your bubble: not all black guys have huge cocks; in fact the cocks of some aren't big period. This guy's tops at 6" when fully hard. He was soft when we started but he began to chow down on my cock, which brought him to full mast (it's a nice cock, but he didn't get fully hard when I sucked him, but was engorged while I stroked it as we made out after I'd fucked him.) He does give an amazing blow job and was able to throat my cock repeatedly which impressed us both.
He was insistent on silicone lube (I'd said I had some when he wrote he needed to run out for some, but he did anyway. It was nicer I have to admit, but I didn't understand the issue, but then I don't bottom.) However, first I ate his ass a bit, but he wasn't turning me on over all and I just wanted to fuck and that's what he wanted.
Well being a bigger guy it was actually hard to find the right angle to get my cock into him but once we did it felt great. He wasn't vocal or loud, but I was enjoying the affirmative grunts that confirmed that I was hitting the right spots, that jabbing here with the head of my cock, or pulling back or speeding up was turning his crank. He did murmur how deep/deep inside him I was, particularly when I made him lie on his side and pull his thigh to his chest as I thrust into him. There were full length mirror doors along the closet wall which were distracting and as I watched us fuck I was reminded of a "making bacon" poster I'd seen years ago (there was also a mirror embedded in the head board...) We kept at it a long time but eventually I blew into him and while I didn't announce it he started to broadly smile and thrust back against me.
I eased out and he was down on my cock immediately to suck it dry. It's the pig in me that makes me absolutely love to have a guy suck my cock after I pull out of his ass (later when I started to fuck him again we took a couple of breaks and he dove down onto my rod when I pulled out to suck me.) I stayed hard and was soon back inside him and we continued to fuck for a long time. He wanted a second load in him, but it takes me awhile to coax another out. We were both surprised that I wore him out before I came (and, dammit, I was damned close to giving it up inside him again.) He was really sorry to have to stop but he was getting seriously sore so I reluctantly withdrew; we tried my reentering and mellowly fucking but by then it was too much for him.
However, he was back on my cock in a second and savoring the taste of the load I'd deposited earlier and had been massaging into his guts. We made out and I started to stroke while he massaged my balls and the second load spurted a nice line of cum up my stomach and chest that he eagerly lapped up and then sucked my cock into his mouth (our last encounter when I stroked off he scooped up my load and shoved into his ass with his fingers.)
We talked for a bit afterwards/ while squirrelly he sounds fairly grounded. However, there is a weirdness there that I thought disconcerting. When I got home I got a message from him/we'd last connected via Craig's List and not kept in contact; now we know each other on one of the sites. While I doubt I will go back I now know to never say never.
