A Hump and Dump Maintenance Visit

The soccer dude (aka Flake) wrote me again on Friday.  He indicated he wants to get together again, that Friday afternoons and Sunday afternoons work for him, and wanted to know after I got deeper and deeper into his ass whether I'd cum in his mouth.

A.  Friday afternoons work for me; I was free this Friday afternoon and for well into the evening
A.  Sundays after 1 pm are optimal
A.  I looked forward to passing his second spincter next time

He responded that that Friday afternoon was out "that he needed to lick his girl's pussy that night" and how about Sunday.  I responded Sunday would work. 

--no response Friday
--no response yesterday (Saturday)
--I tapped him another email and asked him to let me know one way or the other
--no response after that yesterday; no response today.

This guy is a piece of work.  However, I never really expected it to happen.  I imagine him furiously stroking his average to below average sized cock when seeing responses from me in his inbox.  However, I am intrigued and am not ready to say fuck off...just yet.

Well, I was horny:  it had been about ten days since I'd gotten some ass.  The Arab is hosting some family from the Middle East but really really wants to get laid.  He has set up a tentative date with me for tomorrow when he'll be temporarily free of his company.  He was hoping to have me come down and fuck him right now, but the sand is about out of my hour glass; no time to get there and back.

A very very very persistent Latino contacted me on a4a and begged me to respond.  I did last week, this morning he sent the message "please cum in my ass".  Well, that piqued my interest.

We connected three times two plus years ago.  The first time he complained that I take too long to cum, and that he isn't interested in the foreplay. Also, while we fucked bare I couldn't cum in him; he wouldn't suck my dick after we'd fucked, and he wouldn't let me take his load in my mouth.  Second time I had some performance issues (probably because of his deconstructing my performance and my desire for some foreplay to get me hard) but I got there, though neither of us was satisfied.  Time three I had a flat tire and he wrote after  I left "and I cleaned out for nothing."  Well fuck you I thought.  But for the last 24 plus months he has pleaded for me to come back.

Well I dragged it out:  I mentioned that I might take too long for his taste:  he was okay with that.  I mentioned he didn't like kissing:  well that was back on the menu.   In fact, he wanted to know if I'd cum in his mouth!

I could see nothing was happening elsewhere:  the usual lunes and flakes on Craigs List; people from an hour away "wanted to ride my pole"  on a4a (one "local" dude dragged it out, couldn't host, and wanted to play in my car.  No thanks idiot/if arrested I don't want it to be for lewd behavior in public.

So, I decided to give my Latino friend another shot:  I figured if he said anything obnoxious I would just walk out.  He lives in the upscale part of the downscale blue collar suburb to the north.  His house is actually quite lovely/he is a bit fussy, but better than dirty.  I arrived and indicated I was on a tight schedule.  He was cool with it.

Now, other than a really homely face, this guy pushes my buttons.  Very hairy; a nice uncut cock with a very long foreskin, and an ass that is nice and musky after being carefully scrubbed in the shower.  He was true to his word and good with kissing, and I forgot how sensitive his nipples were.  I loved chowing down on his cock and ass; it was rich, musky, earthy.   I would have loved for him to have cum in my mouth but knew he'd never be able to get fucked after cumming.



He was really anxious to have me fuck him:  after eating his ass he was panting and begging me to rub his hole with my cock head: he was soon pushing back against it and then crying out as it entered him, begging me to be easy and to use lube (dude you pushed your ass on to it!)  Well I decided this was definitely a hump and dump so I got with the program:  I lubed my cock, slowly pushed in and started thrusting.

There was alot of "do you like it?"  "easy, please, not so fast" "it's so hard"  "I am getting sore".  I thought, fuck it, just blow your load and get out.  I didn't cum fast enough for him, but did cum in record time for me.  Afterwards he asked me to suck one nipple and to pinch another while he stroked off:  soon his hairy stomach was matted with a nice load. 

I dispensed with the niceities:  I asked him if I could shower (yes, and he insisted on showering with me, though I just wanted to clean up.)  Soon I was slipping my shorts on, pulled on my tee shirt and was walking down the stairs.  I got into my car and realized it was 30 minutes, max.

My balls were tingling; my cock felt nicely massaged, but it was alien to me to be in such a rush and to focus on just getting off.  However, I got over it.  Actually I ended up with ample time to engage in a number of errands and to come home and to get some shit done!  After having had an assignation!  Damn!  Being a self centered asshole isn't all bad!  Still, I like my sex to be more than just  like two dogs quickly humping, dropping loads and running off.

I returned home and had a series of valentines from the Latino, telling me how great it was, how good he felt, asking if there was any chance I could return tonight (no) and hoping I'd return soon.

Less than Wonderful: Frightening Fridays/the prequel

My first frightening Friday entry referenced a gritty blue collar suburb to the northeast I'd previously visited for an assignation.  Actually I had made previous visits (ahem):  first to a pristine section inhabited largely by Latino homeowners (the home I'd visited earlier was quite quite lovely.)  The host, however, grew quickly obnoxious besides not liking to kiss and wanting just a quick hump session ("you like to take forever!  Just cum, but not in me!!!") and despite regular entreaties I stopped returning.  But, earlier this summer I was lured one exit further north by a fellow whose moniker is "Mr. Wonderful". 

This was in response to a CL ad; he'd responded to earlier ads and had tried to lure me up mid to late evenings when I don't have the opportunity to venture out much. This particular, hot, day he engaged my interest and we went back and forth on email.  I was ready to hang it up, as the afternoon was waning and I was envisioning brutal traffic heading north. And, he'd mentioned  a housemate who would be arriving home soon; I wasn't enthralled by the idea of fucking someone while his roommate was roaming about in other rooms.  He responded "he's my roommate, not my mom, and we have separate bathrooms."  I liked the attitude in the response and decided to give it a shot.

Well, I got a bit turned around but eventually found his house.  The neighborhood was okay, but a bit run down at the heels:  few flowers, brown lawns, and sun bleached homes devoid of trees. As agreed I texted him upon arriving, walked up to the door and after ringing the bell and standing there was greeted by a rotund thirty something African American fellow in a towel.  He secured an enormous lunging dog (friendly) and ushered me into his very untidy home and quickly down a hallway to a bedroom with an enormous television playing and it seemed like all the clothing he owned dumped onto the floor as well as the open doors of a closet.  While covered with sheets the bed was unmade and the sagging mattress was rump sprung. 

He told me he needed to finish up and spent an eternity in the bathroom:  I was factoring how to make an exit when he appeared, gave me a kiss, and dropped the towel.  This man does not conform to the black stereotype (trust me, I do not have a Mandingo fantasy, but the black guys I have been with have been considerably smaller than me/average or less.  Perhaps just black bottoms are on the smaller side, or only the big ones get featured in porn.)

This fellow also has quite the tummy, which drooped; not offensive, actually he wears it well (better clothed though) but it made the correography more of a challenge, particularly getting my cock into him and keeping it there. Overall, however, he's a handsome guy, but one who would look better if he lost 60 lb.

He was incredibly clean; not a trace of musk so I had no hesitancy in rimming him, which he loved.  I tried sucking him and he got moderately hard.  Finally I got him on his stomach for a bit and rubbed my cock up and down his crack and after many probing efforts managed to find the hole and to push into him.  He loved it, but it was a hot day and being a big boy needed to take breaks to rehydrate.  He also started digging through the pile of clothes looking for a towel (he managed to find an unopened water bottle in the mess as well.

The bed was a nightmare that wasn't at all conducive to sex; it sagged and nearly threw us off throughout the session, which added to the challenge of getting back in him and getting a rhythm going.  It was incredibly distracting and uncomfortable.  Finally I got him on his side, and felt the friction and decided to focus on cumming.  He was thrilled to feel me breeding him. Next he was vigorouly jerking off and did manage to shoot a load.

I didn't want to dash out and he was into making out and also wanted to try to get another load out of me.  The bed, however, wasn't conducive to our mutual weight; working out the first load was a miracle, but getting him positioned to enable me to fuck him a give up another load was proving an impossibility.  Also by that point the bottom sheet kept pulling off the bed, there was no mattress cover, and he was really sweating.  Finally I rolled on my side and stroked off (I think my subconscience told my cock that this was the way to escape) and shot faster than I imagined.  He scooped my cum up, rubbed it on his hole and pressed it inside him with his fingers.  Okay, this guy was serious about wanting to get bred.  By that point I was hot, clammy, tired, and weiry of it all, and as it was dusk I thought I might be well advised to find my car and to leave.

The roommate was home and I'd smelled him cooking dinner; my sex partner first got up, located some random articles of clothing to don,  exited the room, and assuring me his roommate was out of the way, got me out the door. When I got to my car I found I didn't have my cell phone:  I couldn't very well text him, so I had to go back and to ring the door bell.  After several minutes, my "pal" appeared at the door (thank God, I didn't know his name to tell the roommate I wanted to speak with him), and had to remove the jumping dog to another room to speak with me.  I mentioned my phone and he left me standing in front of the house for several more minutes.  All I could imagine was that finding it in that mess would be impossible; amazingly he came back with the phone in hand.

As I got into my car and mentally collapsed I wondered why I allow my dick to think for me sometimes.  This was definitely a less than "wonderful" experience.

Frightening Fridays/part two

Well, anticipating a sexual desert for awhile after I return to work, I posted on CL yesterday in one last fishing expedition as my time off comes to a close. Manhunt and a4a do yield results, but rarely immediate gratification (unless you are totally undiscriminating, can host, or are willing to drive 20 miles...)  Of course, CL does turn up alot of interesting creatures and the usual flakes and socially awkward characters responded to my add with valentines of one sort or another.  One in particular takes delight in taunting guys who "can't host/need to travel".  I guess it's better than flagging ads.  The Arab and I had a tentative date to connect again that morning, but he indicated a 10:30 meeting and said he'd probably be free early afternoon.  I responded we should just touch base later, and considered the bites from CL.

One guy in Oakland looked tremendous:  tall, hairy, big cock, firm ass, and damned good looking.  All the pics seemed to fit together in appropriate jigsaw puzzle fashion/it didn't appear from the pics he forwarded that different "puzzles" had been mixed.  I had wished him viya con Dios (actually he claims to be Irish American) when he indicated that he was primarily a top and was looking for mutual oral; I immediately got a response indicating that he was super interested and actually would consider bottoming for me as my pics and stats had him aroused.  However, it deteriorated into 40 minutes of email ping pong with relentless questions ("wrapped/unwrapped?"  "Do you take/give cum in 69?" yadda, yadda, yadda.)  I suspect he was jerking off the whole time.  And, he indicated he lives in the Eastmont section of Oakland, which a google search indicated is a barrel of blood in Oakland (I know that sounds redundant, but for it to get the reviews I read suggested  it would represent driving into Dante's Inferno.)  Walking in such a neighborhood to his apartment, much less leaving my car on the street didn't sound advisable.  Suffice it to say, I didn't go there and, I haven't heard back from him.

During the meantime I got a message from a married guy in Alamo, an extremely affluent nearby suburb.  (No risks from the neighborhood other than possibly being run into by a new Range Rover or BMW SUV).  He sent a microscopic thumbnail pic, which suggested a regular suburban guy.  I drove over to his house, an a neighborhood with gated stone driveways (no on street parking.)  Adjacent to the driveway was a very untidy arrangement of large, Fisher Price type children's toys and disposable diaper boxes (very declasse; not at all Alamo.)

When I arrived a very odd fellow answered the door.  About 6' 2", long, grey, thinning hair, and decent but gone to flab 50s.  The house was for sale (probably 3 mil) but definitely needs some touch up.  It was all in very nouveau riche style (neo-rocco.)  He lead me into the master bedroom suite, which was filled with baby things:  bassette, play pen, etc., untidily strewn about.  I commented "you have a baby" and he shared that "yeah, his wife had protested her biological clock was ticking."  He indicated he hadn't gotten much sleep so he was kind of exhausted (I am guessing he'd been partying and was coming down from it.) Yes, the wife and baby were in Lake Tahoe, apparently, but he'd gotten a text that they were en route and would return about mid-afternoon.  Looking out the bedroom window was a magnficent pool, surrounded by pristine landscaping (clearly something the present owner had nothing to do with creating/maintaining.)

He really wanted to get fucked, but also wanted to make out and to give me head.  He had some soft, mostly lesbian porn channel playing in the background, which I found helpfully distracting as this scene wasn't entirely working for me (even less than Lesbian porn, something in which I have NO interest.)  Normally I like the musk of a man, but his wasn't working for me/it was sour.  He assured me that he'd cleaned out, so I rolled him onto his stomach and started to eat his ass:  it seemed clean, but a huge, irregularly shaped hole.  Getting him wet I pushed my cock head against him and tried to enter; it wouldn't yield and he cried out in discomfort.  He asked me to loosen him with my fingers and some lube (which I stopped doing since so many guys complain about finger nails and rigid fingers) so I gave that a half hearted try.  I asked him to try straddling me, but he soon rolled off in defeat saying my cock was too big for him to take.

Dismounting he rolled on his side and pulled me to him and asked me if I'd cum on his face.  He started to give me head again, and then I began stroking; he wanted to kiss some, which was okay but then started to ask whether I liked watching girl on girl action (A:  no) and yammering about his wife's big tits (yawn)  and how he'd fucked a TV with a figure like that of one of the girls playing on the screen (I was now pretty grossed out.) Thankfully I needed to cum  and my body cooperated and he positioned his face next to my cock and licked the head as I spurt. It was a joyless release.

Normally I like to be some what considerate and not jump up.  However, I quickly asked if I could wash up/I wanted out.  Minutes later I was dressed and in my car.   Perhaps 35 minutes had passed. While the Arab lives close by, and it was now after noon I was definitely no longer in the mood.  I need to stay away from CL on my Fridays off.

Frightening Fridays/part one

Okay, my sexual hiatus is coming to a close as work will, again, darken my doorstep on Monday, when I can look forward to the return of the 11 hour day (and, our parents wanted us to go to college so that we could have easier lives:  what bullshit that ended up being.  Frankly, if I could make the mortgage I'd rather work in a factory:  at least my work would be done at the end of the shift, but then I digress.)

Last Friday was a disturbing interlude.  I was invited to join a guy who sounded sane and normal in a blue collar suburb to the north (I hate to be elitist, but that should have been a clue.  I've been there before --now that I think of it, also on a Friday --and that experience was creepy bordering on weird.)  Anyway, in this case this dude sends me a hot looking pic, sounds hot, and sounds aokay.  The email dialog didn't reveal any red flags; it was reassuring and exciting, actually. I get to his sad, but interesting, little house and then things were...odd.

The microscopic house has an unfortunate location immediately off two immensely busy streets and there is absolutely no on street parking.  Normally I prefer to park on the dude's street rather than in his driveway.  Then I can take my time:  get condoms and lube out of my trunk, walk up the street, and check out the environs.  In this case I had to park immediately behind his car, which looked like it hadn't been moved in a while; though you could nearly throw a stone at the nearby BART station/I wouldn't drive either, not with a Safeway across the street (though, I consider Safeway only fit for canned goods and emergencies, but that is a another discussion...)  The house has the absolutely worst paint job I've ever seen:  school bus yellow that looks like it was first diluted and then thrown on the house.  My radar was flashing:  WARNING; WARNING; WARNING!!!  I knocked on the door; the dude had indicated he was at Safeway 20 minutes earlier when I emailed him and said he'd be home by 12:15.  It was about 12:12 and I was aggravated to be standing there, fully exposed to God and everybody waiting for him. 

I knocked again, more vigorously. Standing there, considering the contrast between the vibe I'd gotten from the emails and the environs, I was concluding that I was an asshole and should just drive home.  But, having overcome my inertia to drive up to this sad suburb I was stubborn and stood there thinking, I'll give it 10 more.  Bored I noticed he had mail:  shamelessly I looked at the addressee and noted it wasn't a Latino name (actually quite WASP and he professed to be Latino.  So okay, the guy is closeted, but why would a white guy profess to be Latino other than because of the large number of Latino folks in the neighborhood?)  Ready to book, suddenly the door opened and a good looking,  buff/muscular dude wrapped in a towel opened the door profusely apologizing saying he was attempting to clean up for me after the Safeway run (pal, we worked out the details last night.  You couldn't clean out and shower before going to Safeway?)   He invited me in and said to relax while he finished up.   It is a small house and he spent a seeming eternity finishing up so I had ample time to prowl.

The living room furnishings were all Middle Eastern, and the kitchen table (more like a dining room table) was ersatz Chinese elegant.  It was tidy enough, but the place screamed that it hadn't been painted inside in probably 20 years.  The Middle Eastern stuff wasn't my taste but was of some quality; mixed with a crappy Ethan Allen roll top desk, and a cheap looking stand up piano.  Atop the piano was an Easter card to the Mark whose mail was in the mailbox, from "Mom and Dad". Hmmm. Mail atop the ugly desk was also addressed to the same Mark.  Okay, there was a consistent pattern.

When he finally emerged from the shower he ran to the spare bedroom (I glanced in/there was a couch that matched the mother of pearl inlaid chairs in the living room) as well as a huge amount of clutter (interestingly there were no computers, stereos, or televisions elsewhere, so presumably everything was in that room.)  The door was quickly whisked shut.  He sprinted to a room off the kitchen, which I assume had the dryer/washer and pulled out some sweat socks which he donned.  Otherwise he was in a towel.  Later when I asked him to lose the socks he indicated having scrapped his foot in the backyard:  while I promised not to cum on that foot (joke) he kept one sock on/despite excellent shape otherwise his other toe nails were thick, yellowed, and conveyed poor health if not indifferent hygiene (despite all his shoes, lined up in the bedroom, of clear quality and vigorously polished...)

He invited me into the bedroom (micrscopic, and very tidy/Asian furniture/filthy walls screaming for paint) and we began to make out.  Broad shoulders, narrow waist, defined abs, but definite crow's feet.  While well preserved (and toned) this guy wasn't in his early 40s. 

I remarked "oh you're Middle Eastern!" and he responded, that no he'd just spent time there/he was Latino.  Now I know all Latinos aren't brown/I'd just fucked an ivory one.  However, this guy gave no indication of being Latino from his appearance (very very very Caucasian) nor his furnishings.  The one possible suggestion of Latino ethnicity was his  uncut cock (which remained flaccid the entire time I was there.)

He was really into making out, really into sucking my dick, but there was nothing I could do to make his cock hard.   But from the moans and groans he sounded content.  I pushed him on to his stomach and decided to eat his ass:  he was in heaven.

We alternated between him sucking my cock and my eating his ass (sucking his cock was pointless) and we took time to make out.  I finally said "I need to ask you are you really named Mark?"  He pulled  back and said "oh, Mark ....  he used to own this place, and they keep sending his mail here."  Well I was thinking with my dick and wanted to fuck, but why would you keep an Easter card on your piano from a guy who didn't live there any longer?  How would it get placed on your piano in the first place?

I made him lie flat and pushed into him; he was a great bottom.  However, when we decided to move around and I eased out and my cock was brown (YUCK!  And, what the hell were you doing in the bathroom all that time?  You are gay and you don't know how to totally clean out?  Fortunately it was clean when I ate him, but my cock did get pretty far up into him.)  I took charge, jumped up and darted into his bathroom, washed my cock and pubes and brought a clean, wet, washcloth and cleaned his ass.  His sheets were ivory white and fortunately he hadn't rolled left or right.  After I cleaned him he sucked me some more and then I entered him again.

There were a couple of times I jumped up to wash off.  Finally I went for the gold, pumping him and asking him if he wanted my load:  he did and then some.  His eyes bulged as my cum spewed into his ass.  Yet, his cock remained flaccid.

I asked him if he wanted a second load as I was in a randy mood.  He vigorously agreed but said he had to pee.  Before he did I stood up and put my cock under his balls and we enjoyed some serious frottage while we made out; he insisted he could cum that way.  I encouraged him to pee so that we could enjoy round two.

Well he disappeared in the bathroom for at least fifteen minutes (shiting out my load and what I'd loosened, I was guessing.)  I'd earlier commented on the house (cute, loads of potential) and he indicated he'd gotten it on a foreclosure.  So I had ample time to snoop some more, which I did because I was troubled by the lying bullshit.  All the mail I found was  to the same Mark (okay folks, it was  there out for anyone to find) and then I found a blank folded check with Mark's name and a fomer address outside Oakland:  this guy was clearly the Mark in question or had a partner named Mark with whom he shared this microscopic house.  This guy claimed to have formerly lived in SF but worked in Oakland.  Too much connected; too much was intentionally blurred.  I was creeped out. I dressed and waited; and waited, and waited.  Finally I knocked on the bathroom door and indicated I needed to leave (his absence in the bathroom was more than weird.)  He checked the sad, cheap, grandfather clock in the living room and was surprised by how late it was.

I was disturbed by the experience:  he was passionate, a great piece of ass, and responsive.  But, unnecessarily squirrelly, which colored everything.  When I returned home I employed my research skills, and while I refused to spend $40 to learn all his business I was able to deduce he was 55 not 40, that he'd owned an apartment in Emeryville (Oakland) before his former house, and that yes, he had bought a bank foreclosed property (it's called looking at real estate records, folks.  They are on line.)  I think I even figured out where he works, in fact.

Well, talk about buzz kill.  So, I spent alot of time worrying about why he was such a liar (if poz, however, then he should worry about retribution and that really isn't a reason to be so incredibly duplicitous about your actual identity) or whether partnered (although  there didn't appear evidence of anyone else, much less room for someone else's shit.)  It was all unsettling.

However, rather than confronting him I wrote back to the fictional "Drew" (how many Latinos are named Drew?) and asked if he'd like an encore.  He quickly responded yes.  I figured I'd like to keep the door open should I later discover something else about him.

Well Friday and Saturdays are supposed to be his available days.  I didn't hear jack from him, so I guess the next std test will be the ultimate barometer of the outcome.  Let's just say, however,  it was weird to the tenth power.

Cleaning Ladies

So, the older soccer jock blew me off yesterday with a message indicating he'd forgotten that it was "cleaning lady day".  That's up there with "I can't go with you to your aunt's brunch because I have a dentist's appointment" type of lame excuses.  Just man up, be direct, and state that you're no longer into it, man.  Cripes.  This was after his asking if I'd been with other men since seeing him.  Okay Sherlock, do you assume that men who post ads on Craig's List are monastic after connecting with you?  You leave days between your responses and you expect that the guy has tied a piece of thread around his cock to avert a hardon in the opt chance that you might actually respond and want more?  Give me strength.

Okay, enough ranting.

So, an actual fb, the horny arab guy, contacts me and indicates he wants to connect.  However, he has HIS cleaning lady (real) coming late morning, so it means my either coming first thing in the morning or late afternoon.  As I didn't have late morning availability it meant first thing (painful as I had about 1/2 a cup of the coffee remaining to drink before showering and jumping in the car.)  I was pleased with myself to make it to his place in record time, and aside from his forgetting to disarm his security system when he unlocked the door things went seemlessly.

Again, he was playing  "Breeding Ian Jay" on his DVD, a great film to see on a big screen tv as TIM's filming is superb.  Apparently this must be one of two gay porn films he has (the other is some horrible Czech flick with too much feigned grunting and moaning.)  When he plays Ian Jay I am torn as I just want to watch the flick, particularly the opening segment with Dan Fisk:  hot!

The Arab is incredibly sexy:  a hairy bear, solid from swimming and regular constitutionals.  He was rock hard when I walked in (so he hadn't been partying lately, thank God) and it was nice to see it sticking straight out when I walked in; I knew I'd see him cum.

We made out standing up for a long time; he's incredibly sensual, and likes that aspect of it.  He got into some leisurely sucking of my cock, but being seriously hard he enjoyed my giving him prolonged head/I was concerned he'd shoot and then the show would be over.  However, hearing the clock ticking I was careful to pull off and to roll him onto his stomach to begin working his ass with my tongue.  It's always a feeling of satisfaction and skill when you can feel the guy's rosebud go from taut to totally relaxed as you lick and jab at it with your tongue.  The Arab was pulling his cheeks apart so I could get my tongue into him deeper.  He had a deep, feline like singular mantra "fuck, fuck!, oh fuck!" as I ate his ass.  My cock was throbbing and I had the excuse that we had limited time so I rose up, and rubbed my cock up and down the crack of his ass.  He reached back, grasped me and lined the head up with his hole so I could push in.  It was wet and his mantra turned into a low purr/growl "fuck, FUCK!, oh fuck!"  His nipples are very sensitive (lucky guy) so I wrapped my arms around his furry chest and worked them as I jabbed and thrust.  He grunted that we should do this every day so I guess he was getting what he wanted.

He needed a break after awhile and for me to use some lube as he was getting sore (he was actually sheepish about going there; I finally had to say "if you're going to enjoy it more, let's use some lube!")  He loved being on his back but he couldn't keep his legs fully up and I couldn't easy stay inside him with them lowered.  Finally he straddled me and started to work his cock while sliding up and down.  He wanted to know if I could cum that way:  we have an agreement that I won't shoot in him, so I was surprised/confused and asked if he wanted me to cum in him (when you bareback, and for a considerable length of time does it make a difference?  I mean my precum was certainly in him anyway...)  He replied that he didn't know.  I usually can't cum with a guy straddling me (my cum wants to shoot down I guess, not up.  Actually, it's insufficient friction for me in that position) but it was feeling good and I knew he wanted to stroke off with my cock up his ass.  So, I cheered him on and he shot a nice load and quickly pulled off me as his ass immediately got hypersensitive.  However, being really considerate he spit in his hand and started to vigorously stroke my cock.  Normally I can't get off if someone else is stroking it, but yesterday it was all clicking and I soon shot a nice load; certainly enough to soak his hand towel. 

We laid back and checked the time:  I'd arrived at 9:30 and it was 10:10; the cleaning lady was coming at 11:00, so we had time to enjoy some afterglow before I dressed and booked.  He asked me what type of soap I prefer as he wants to get some for when I visit in the future:  I take this to mean we're regulars now.

Soon I was out the door and, up and about, accomplished several major errands.  When I arrived home I had a message from my very hesistant, overly analyzing, and extremely hirsute pal who wanted me to come over.  Having gotten my nut, however, I was able to think with my brain and responded I needed to get stuff done: but, that tomorrow is a possibility...

Piano Man

Yesterday I connected again with a regular fuck buddy (I guess five sessions, and a sustained mutual desire for much more constitutes a bona fide fb...)  He's a professional pianist and the times I have been off this summer frustratingly, he has been traveling to perform and teach.  So I scrambled and rearranged my day when I got a message on a4a indicating he was available and interested.  I knew I'd only have two hours, and also know that as a late riser he usually can't get it together until ~ 1 p.m., which reduces my availability.  It was 11 a.m. and he responded to my compressed schedule by getting it together by 12:30.

From the get go we've had great chemistry.  He's bear cubbish (which I really like):  a little extra baggage that he wears well, a fine dusting of hair across his chest, stomach, and shoulders, and a very thick cut regular sized cock with a big head, and amazingly large balls.  We are totally on the same page when it comes to sex, until we get to the finale when I like to top and he likes to bottom.  Our only other difference is that his large nipples are incredible sensitive and my tiny ones are like pencil erasers (guys are very disappointed when they try sucking, pinching, and nibbling on them while we are at it and they get no reaction from me aside from possible irritation, though I appreciate the effort and intention.)

This is a guy (like me) who you'd never imagine has a horn dog, much less piggy side.  Very polite, professional, bright eyed, cultured but also choir boy like when cleaned up and dressed. Slip off his glasses (rendering him nearly blind), however,  and strip him and this guy turns into a passionate slut.  He's an incredible kisser and will keep at it for sustained periods while we are grasping each other's cock or ass. We make great music together.

We usually strive for me to give him two loads, but I realized that this was going to be a one load session unless we got to fucking immediately.  His passion makes me want to savor the time working up to fucking/while we fuck for a long time: the foreplay is simply too good to rush and makes the fucking much more satisfying.

While I like to be lying down,  we began making out immediately after we both stripped and it was simply too good to rush:  many minutes passed while we sucked each other's tongues and stroked; his balls more than fill my palm and holding them alone is really hot.  I did eventually push him down on the bed and laid on top of him and was thrusting my cock under his balls and teasing his hole as we resumed kissing.  I enjoyed licking down his chest to his cock and giving him a sustained blow job.  I was totally into to it yesterday and continued working his cock for a long time, stroking and throating it, but also just slobbering over it and repeatedly pulling back from the root to his head with my lips.  He has a large piss slit that I can press my tongue into and I was being rewarded with a stready flow of his precum that kept me at it.  But this man is an intense bottom and I wanted the ultimate prize, so I flipped him on his stomach so I could eat his ass.

Among the many things that make sex with him great is that he cleans out really really well.  His hole is squeaky clean, yet he also knows not to use any fragrance, so when I push my tongue into him he's incredibly musky:  it's an aroma I love having saturate my beard and mustache (and he apparently loves too from the passion with which he sucks face after I rim him.)  I love pulling his cheeks apart and working his spincter till it totally relaxes and allows my tongue to push in and to get him really wet with spit;  I know then that he's ready for my cock. 



Normally I like to tease his hole with my head, and did that for a second or two yesterday, but I wanted in and pushed ahead:  he was totally relaxed and it just slid into him.  I always have lube on the night table but we rarely use any.  It was really really good; I was loving it and he was pushing back and squeezing and sustained a steady symphony of whimpers, groans, and moans that inspired me to probe every corner.  However, he was getting incredibly sweaty and we needed to take breaks several times to cool down.  Each time as I eased out he quickly rolled over and started to give me incredible head and then made out with me.

We moved around with him straddling me, which he loved as he could feel my balls flush against his hole and it was fun to watch his eyes bulge each time I suddenly jabbed up into him more, knowing I had passed his inner spincter.  I can't cum with a guy straddling me as it doesn't allow my cock head to get enough friction.  We had him on his back with his legs up, which we both love as we can make out, but most guys can only take so long grasping their legs.  So I pushed him on his side and made him pull his thigh close to his chest, wrapped my arms around him, worked his nipples, and got into some sustained thrusting.  He was able to pull his arm back so I could alternate between sucking his pit and kissing him and then I felt my load rising and let it spurt into him.  It was double the pleasure looking at the satsifaction on his face as he felt himself being bred.  We laid there for awhile, but when I eased out he was on my cock again sucking it clean and then pressing his mouth to mine to make out.  Normally I just want to decompress after cumming and to lie still for a bit, but yesterday I was totally into it all.

Fortunately I remained hard so he was able to straddle me and to stroke off.  I am amazed that he can simply decide to cum pretty quickly when he starts stroking (or to hold off.)  Appreciating that the time was running out he let go quickly and a nice warm load coated my stomach.   We rolled on our sides and spooned and engaged in some small talk (state of the economy and the upcoming election/yes we certainly switch gears.)   An hour and 45 minutes had passed and I knew I needed to make tracks, so to avoid dogs and cats following me I took a quick shower and headed out.  I am anxiously looking forward to an encore performance.

Bronco Encore

As luck would have it, the short, buff, Latino colt gave me a call yesterday at noon to ask if I could come over again.  In terms of too much information, I was checking out some porn and ready to take matters into hand when he called.  His timing was optimal in terms of my horniness, but not in  terms of my schedule:  I had a work commitment:   needed to get a hair cut;  needed to get dressed up; needed to get into my office early to prepare some notes.  But instead thinking with my then hard dick, I put it back in my pants and agreed to come right over to his place, advising him that I only had an hour.

I quickly showered and then flew like a bat at of hell over to his place, reigning terror among the leisure class drivers as I wove through traffic.  When I arrived he was standing in his sweats saying he'd not had a chance to clean up (read:  out)  yet and maybe we should try for another day.  I was not going take no for an answer after the aggravation of getting there and told him to clean up then as I didn't know if I could come back.  So, he vanished in the bathroom for 10 minutes bordering on eternity as I paced his little bungalow and wondered whether I was simply nuts and should just head home/I had a full afternoon ahead and his failure to prep earlier was cutting into the time I didn't have.

Finally he emerged from the bathroom; he was starting to fuck around with the tv set and the fan when I got directive.   This might be some seemingly muscular, macho piece of trouble, but I recognized he wanted me to be his daddy, and sons take direction from daddies.  So I got him on the bed and we got into some hot oral action and making out.  His nice uncut 6" got fully engorged and I wished I had more time to fully savor it but did give him some quality oral.  I asked him to straddle me and he said "all you want is my ass"; I responded that I eventually wanted to get into it, but wanted to enjoy the journey getting there.  There was a bit of the jumping up and down to get water, and to adjust the fan stuff from the other day and I told him he was hyper.  Despite the language barrier/this guy's English is functional, working class English, clearly he'd been told that before.  He eyed the attic where the sling was located and I made it clear I had no time for that.

It became clear that what he wanted most was to be held and loved.  I was forceful about making out instead of pecking, and he was getting into it:  more tongue than lip.  I rolled him onto his stomach and entered him and he bucked and thrashed and was vocally enjoying it.  However, it was hot and humid, I was "hearing" the clock ticking, and further distracted by his moving around.  I found myself growing soft and slipping out. 

He didn't realize that it was starting to not work for me; I was determined, however, to get off.  So I pushed him on to his side and made out with him as I stroked his dick and he worked mine.  I had to direct him to work the head of my cock, and he grasped our two cocks together to stroke them as we made out: now  this was working for me as my cock got fully hard again and he was totally into it.  By that point I'd decided to stop waiting for signs of what he wanted for direction and to simply do what would be sure to get me off.  I rolled him on his side again, fucked him for awhile, but got soft as I wasn't getting enough friction coming from him, and we got on our sides again.  But it clicked again: I got totally hard and rolled him on his stomach, pushed in, and got a nice rhythm going, directing him to fuck me back with his ass.  My cock was feeling good and I could feel my load building:  no time for prolonging  this today but he was sighing and moaning how good Daddy's fucking was making his ass feel; flipping his legs up, then down and wrapping his calves around mine so our feet was touching (which I LOVE.)  I felt it coming but as I promised him, I pulled out  in time to shoot and a small pool of my cum puddled in the middle of his back (nice visual:  broad shoulders, tapered waist, hard ass, with cum glistening on his back.)  There was some distraction locating a towel to wipe him off and then I said "we've got to get you off", but he shook his head.  I realized then that the whole point of his inviting me over was for him to get his Daddy off.  He recognized I needed to get rolling and had only limited time.

Soon he's moving, so he told me we needed to work in some more sex there before he moved as he was going to become a good boy for a long time (he's moving in with his sister and won't be able to have company.)  We'll see.  However, it is nice to be able to enjoy a hot, firm stud like him.

Just over an hour had passed and I sprinted to the car and blazed a trail home.  I actually had time to shower again, dress up, and made it to the barber, who noted I was sweating and asked "did you really just eat lunch?" as it wasn't that hot out.  Wow, I thought, is the fact that I just fucked someone that physically obvious?  I laughed and told him "yeah, unfortunately."  Got to maintain that choir boy image.  And, I arrived at work with ample time and then resumed my regular, staid, existence.