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 cock...it'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.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Glistening
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.
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.
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