Traveling again, and I do have several adventures on which to catch up. I have given up on trying to chronicle everything here, so I guess it's just a matter of distinctive experiences and my mood at the time whether I will tap out gory details here.
Last week I ended up succumbing to the inevitable cold I get each fall traveling. Inevitable because flying is traveling in a pretty disgusting tin can in the sky where people hack and cough and the nasties get in the moist air and swarm around and make more nasties and then settle into your lungs. Anyway, I was apparently coming down with it when I was with the boy (and hope he didn't catch it) because when I got home it hit me between the eyes and while I had to drag myself into work. I threw the towel in early a couple of afternoons and headed home to zonk out like Rip Van Winkle: 12+ hours at a time. I doubted whether I'd be able to make this trip but managed to rebound somewhat and am feeling much better, besides an occasional cough or trickle down my throat.
Okay you are asking, what the hell does this have to do with leaving pecker tracks? Well, I was taking cold medicine with that crap pseudoephedrine in it, which I hate, but it dries you out. How it affects me is that it prevents me from cumming for at least a week after I use it/my body apparently retains the shit. Anyway, any type of cold also affects my ability to shoot; I can still get hard as a rock and drip loads of precum, but the balls will not listen to Mr. Cock. It's very frustrating!
So this trip I did score with a long standing fuck buddy, so far twice, and we had marathon raw sex. He's an insatiable bottom and hot: solid muscle and smooth all over (largely Polynesian) with an enormous cock. He had no trouble shooting, especially when I got him on his back to fuck him while he stroked off (he almost had a seizure when I pulled out to suck his cum dripping cock and then wrapped a muscular paw behind my neck to pull his mouth to mine to make out. Score.) But, despite my fucking him from every angle for going on 2 hours (this isn't internet bullshit, it's real. Actually I did wear the skin down on the underside of my cock, which made it pretty sensitive) I couldn't make the switch flip. While he enjoyed getting drilled open (and we have set another date for before I head home) he was also frustrated because he likes to feel me spurt in him and to feel it slowly drip out as he's driving home. Yesterday he gave it his damnest and sucked me for a long time with the hope of coaxing a load out (truth told, it is rare to never that I can cum getting sucked, except for Mr. Molson on the last trip.)
While I really enjoy sex with him, we've been fucking off and on for six years when I visit. And, he's smooth, and I recognize I am cranked by hairy guys. And, while his ass works up some nice musk, he's otherwise devoid of odor (actually he spends over an hour flushing out before he comes here to bottom: you could store food in his ass, it's that clean.)
I did, after an eternity of jerking, manage to coax out a load the night before, which assured me it wasn't broken. And, knowing that I imagined I'd passed a corner yesterday (but did periodically cough and had the occasional nasal drip.) So I employed pop psychology and thought that perhaps familiarity was breeding contempt (oh man, double entrendre and possible mixed metaphor there/borderline cheesy.) And I thought that a hairy Caucasian might just be the trick to getting the lava flowing again.
This hot (from my lens) hairy, bearded white dude, middle aged, has been coming on to me for a couple of days and I decided to invite him to my room. During the preliminary hook up ping pong of messages I admitted my fetish for armpits and manscent (okay guys, for those reading "freak" I simply like an undeodorized guy who regularly showers. I prefer a man's scent, not that of Safeguard or Irish Spring.) He duly noted it and left off the Right Guard when he biked over. Actually the ride made him pretty pungent, which surprised me as he indicated needing to shower before making the trek. When I greeted him at the door his strong manscent hit me before we embraced.
He arrived grinning like a school boy and had a decided accent. I was cool and didn't immediately inquire but when I had him naked I did ask: I'd assumed he was South African or Dutch, but instead he's German.
A nice bod: middle aged padding, but solid underneath and very very furry. Extremely sensitive nipples which made it oh so fun to venture back to them and listen to him gasp, and it was fun to feel him clamp down on me every time I worked them while fucking him.
He advised me that he wasn't much of a kisser, but said he was a sucker for a beard and would give it his best shot. Well, he was giving it a shot long before he got his clothes off. We apparently both majorly pushed each others' buttons.
Much of the time we simply enjoyed hugging and stroking and nuzzling. He went down on me and I savored his rod (uncut in the European tradition.) As I savored probing with my finger under his foreskin it occurred to me that Europeans often have serious body odor. Why I thought? I mean I know that they aren't as soap obsessed as we are, and that they aren't into deodorant overall, but the guy had just come out of the shower. I've gotten down with white Americans after a run and the most they smell is a bit salty. Go figure. Anyway, it worked for me and while stroking, and licking, I was burrowing into his arm pits and getting my beard saturated with his musk, which in no way deterred him from making out.
After a while I did roll him over and sent him into orbit eating his ass. He's partnered (a man) and the sex has largely dried up at home (apparently a random three way on occasion) and this guy needed a tune up. He indicated that he hadn't bottomed in eons, and was nervous about my taking it slow. After I finished with his ass (which, btw, was devoid of any musk whatsoever, interestingly enough) I started to massage his hole with my head and pressing against it both felt it easily slipping in and him pushing back. I gave him only a few inches at a time, and then reached for the lube so he'd enjoy it. Soon I was all the way in, and after a minute or two he was asking for condom. I gradually withdrew and said we should just continue to explore without one and I was good without fucking.
Well, he was seriously wound up by then and while we rolled around and stroked and rubbed and licked, he was soon straddling me and, grasping my dick, lining it against his hole and impaling himself on it. He rode it like a pogo stick for a bit and then asked for a condom again. I pulled out and said I'd like to just explore without fucking.
After awhile we were spooning, and he was pushing his hole against my cock and pulling it into him. Okay you can write the next couple of sentences: asked for condom, I said no thanks, let's just stroke/lick/suck.
Well the boy was hungry and I did roll on a condom, knowing I'd never cum. However, there were moments when I thought I would with it on; I'd definitely known I could cum (then) when I started fucking him without one at first.
After a while I got tired of sawing in and out of him; he was loving it, but all I was getting out of it was the satisfaction of seeing his eyes bulge and listening to him gasp and groan. There was the challenge of skillfully working the dude to give him the maximum pleasure without any discomfort. But I eventually pulled out and peeled off the condom; which he looked at longingly and with some disappointment.
Moments later he was straddling me, my bare cock was in him at his direction and I was thrusting upward. As he was getting into it he called for a condom again. Yawn. This went on several times; the guy was loving getting fucked bare. At one point he begged me to put on a condom so that I'd fuck him and shoot inside him, but I knew we were past the point where I'd cum. Too much stimulation, too much delayed gratification. While my cock was dripping with clear ooze imy balls were saying a firm "no way." So I asked him what he wanted. He was stradding my legs moments later and stroking off and left a nice stream across my chest and stomach. I didn't dare taste it as I knew he'd freak out.
We cuddled and spooned and enjoyed the afterglow. I stayed hard as a rock (illness never affects my ability to get hard) and he was loving my cock pressing against his ass. Yeah, you guessed it, it was soon, condomless, and in his ass again. We rolled around and made out and sucked each others' rods and he was soon on his back pulling me into him and firmly rubbing his cock and shooting another load.
His German determination wouldn't let him give up on my cumming. I finally grew soft, prompting him to play with it again (I could hear my balls saying "give up already, we aren't surrendering." He tried and tried, but somehow he ended up on his back again, with me thrusting in and out and shot load three (I was impressed/ he was in a daze. He protested that his goal had been to get me off, but a hard dick has a mind of it's own, eh?)
It was hot sex and I really enjoyed him. Cumming is just the icing on the cake (quite the metaphor, I know) and I do like icing a lot, but I truly enjoyed sucking and licking, and fucking, as well as smelling the dude. It was better than fine, it was sweet.
We both had to work and he very reluctantly got up and dressed. His partner is out of town and he really wants to play again; he has plans tonight and noted his ass needed to recover, but he'll be back tomorrow night. Maybe my balls will cooperate.