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 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.

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.

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.

Monday, January 20, 2014

Wearing It Raw

Okay, this installment might also be entitled Slutty Sundays, because --despite California's current drought-- when it rains, it pours.  I know, enough with the metaphors.

So just after my assignation with my Filipino boy I tapped my last entry and was recharging, but still logged in to one of sites when I heard a chorus from my laptop and phone:  a new message.  I checked and it was from a guy I hadn't heard from in well over a year, an incredibly sexy Salvadoran guy.  (It does occur to me that I seem obsessed with ethnicity, but I am pretty universal in my tastes for guys, and I find that their ethnicity enhances their specific attractiveness to me.)

We'd fallen out of contact; after our last hook up I'd messaged him a few times but got polite but disinterested responses.   He's highly desirable and as a younger stud must get plenty of action. I figured the moment had passed and let it go; myself I hate guys that don't get the message that there is no interest in an encore. Pestering someone is hardly a turn on and who wants to get naked with a guy who's not especially interested?

Well this was a welcome surprise, despite my just having shot a load 90 minutes earlier.  He got straight to the point (pardon the expression) and asked if I was free right then.  It took me about 3 seconds to say yes.  This guy is hot as hell.  An earlier entry describes him in the "Sexy Salvadoran".

I jumped in the car and got to his place in about 15 minutes (thank God for late Sunday night traffic.)  He rents a pristine little cottage behind some behemoth house, which is impossible to find in the dark and this time, like our last encounter, I was wandering around someone's property risking being shot or arrested as a potential burglar until I found it.  He couldn't come out as he was in his jockies awaiting me.  Finally I found the damn place.

When I entered he had the heat pretty cranked up (I keep my house in the 60s; his was clearly in the mid to high 70s.)  He was a sight for sore eyes:  a dense head of hair, dark eyes, olive skin, broad shouldered, quarter sized nipples, a minimal dusting of hair in strategic places, taut thighs and calves, absolutely beautiful feet and hands, and warm but reserved in a macho Latin manner.  Also he's got a damned handsome face.

He embraced me, gave me a light kiss and made minimal polite conversation in his deep sexy voice, as I stripped and he laid on the bed.  Once I was naked I joined him on the bed and he immediately wrapped his arms around me to kiss.  I was struck by how incredibly good he felt; soft flesh atop muscle and his body temperature was incredibly warm.  Damn, he's fine.

Soon he was sucking my cock and simultaneously playing with his.  I didn't remember his cock, but I was now struck by it being really really small (uncut) and flaccid.  His balls, too, are really small (this guy is about 5' 9" so he's not a shrimp otherwise.)  I felt between his legs and wanted to help him out so I pushed him back and started to suck his cock; he moaned with pleasure but it remained a flat tire.  I immediately thought that he'd probably been partying (a limp dick another of the many nasty consequences of meth) but his heartbeat seemed normal.  Hmmm.  Normally I could get a corpse hard.  But, since I was in the neighborhood I licked under his balls and he immediately rolled back and lifted his ass.  Then the volume went up.

Now it is a genuine joy to rim a fine manimal like him; damn he is fine.  And, when you have someone so desirable whimpering with pleasure and need the sense of dominance gives you an incredible rush.  This was the opposite of the night's earlier encounter:  I was calling all the shots --though it was a mostly nonverbal encounter-- and he was entirely taking my direction.

While it's nice to have a guy on his back while you are eating him you really get to savor the experience with him on his stomach.  He obediently rolled over and there was his incredibly beautiful ass:  two taut half melons that I pulled apart to get at his hole.  It was pretty relaxed (aka seemingly loose) so I imagined that he might have been fucked earlier, but there was no taste of cum.  It was easy to penetrate him with my tongue and his steady purring was incredible positive reinforcement; I kept at it for a long time.

En route he asked me to stop at the drug store to get some lube: he was pretty specific about wanting Swiss Navy.  However, I wanted to get there and had a new bottle of Wet in the car, which I'd placed next to the bed.  After rimming him I started to rub my cock up and down his crack and when it connected with his hole he pushed back and I easily popped in; he was plenty wet and I eased in with no problem and he pushed back and was grunting with pleasure.  This was clearly going to be a spit fuck.

It's hard to describe how good it felt.  His guts were soft but gripped me; his ability to use his muscles was pretty amazing, and he curved his back and I felt the curves inside as I pushed into him.  His body was active and responsive, not just a vessel for me to pump in and out of.   All of it being enhanced by his silky, warm body.  I was staring at his broad shoulders, strong back, and tapered waist as I pushed in and pulled back with him whimpering how great it felt and thrusting back to meet me and all I could think was "wow."  His legs kept thrashing back and then slamming onto the bed affirming his pleasure.  Damn.

Since I'd already cum earlier I wondered whether I'd shoot again.  We kept at it for a long time but I knew it was cumming on.  When I first met him and we'd started fucking I'd initially worn a condom, then we abandoned those in later hook ups but I pulled out to shoot.  The last time we fucked I'd asked and he hesitated a moment but agreed to let me to stay in and breed him.  This time I didn't ask; we were both fully lost in the moment and he was offering no direction to stop and pull out.  I felt it rise and began to spurt into him and he asked "are you cumming?" and murmured how great it felt and told me to stay in him and to lie on top of him and to relax.  I kept slowly thrusting and he kept moaning how good it felt as I wrapped my arms around him, kept my hard dick in his hole, and rolled us on to our sides.

It was obvious that he wasn't done or satisfied; he wanted more, confirmed by him pushing back and rooting me on by saying how great it felt.  He was playing with his dick, but I could tell it wasn't hard:  it was the hard dick probing his guts that was pushing his buttons and he didn't want it to stop.

Now I'd just had such a fine fuck, that while ready to be done I felt like I needed to keep fucking him out of fairness (okay guys I can hear you now "right: how altruistic...")  I didn't feel right  pulling out and to jump up to leave and he was clearly not done.  (I was, of course, also thinking about wanting to be invited back.)  So, I kept up steady thrusting in him and he kept moving about, careful to stay impaled on me, pulling his leg back and moving positions so that he could feel my cock massage him in different places.  At points he'd jaggedly respond: "it's right there; ah, that's so good!  Right there!  Right there is the spot!"  I figured out I was hitting his prostate about 3-4 inches in, but he wanted my cock in him balls deep most of the time.

It began to become an effort and I started at the clock on his dresser.  I'd been there about 40 minutes; I thought I'd give it another 15 max and by then he'd be sore and ask me to pull out.  Wrong.  I kept at it and he kept urging me on.  By now he was sweating:  his back had become damp, and I noticed beads of sweat cascading down his face, and his hair at the base of his neck was damp (of course, the fucking heat was way up, but his body temperature was pretty cranked as well.)  It had become a pleasant predicament for me; the guy wanted to keep getting fucked and it was evident he wasn't getting hard, though was working his cock like he wanted to get off (by this time, despite the lack of rapid heartbeat I was thinking he must have partied; something was throwing his libido off.)  This went on for a very long time.  I moved us around a bit, but finally I needed to pull out for awhile.  My cock was now only experiencing a dull wet sensation, though I'd remained hard.  I knew I needed a rest for me to regain sensation.  As I pulled out I was afraid I'd see blood, or to find myself dirty from the serious pounding he was getting:  but, neither.

He was disappointed but okay with spooning, but moments later was grasping my cock and pushing himself back on to it.  I dutifully resumed fucking him, but it was again the same.  I pulled out twice to regain sensation, but he was famished for it back in him and quickly grasped me and put it back in his ass.  I kept switching positions as he half-heartedly stroked his cock, which I periodically grasped; his foreskin was running with precum but he wasn't at all hard.

Now this is probably going to sound like stroke fiction bullshit, but I'd been fucking him for well over an hour after I'd cum.  I thought I was definitely done (actually had been done) but was trying to figure out a graceful exit strategy. I imagined he had to be raw by now, but he occasionally got up and pumped some of the remaining lube he had had between my cock and where I was entering him/his only (non-verbal) acknowledgement he might be getting sensitive there.  Finally I said, why don't you try sitting on it.  This didn't seem to be his favorite position, but he got on his knees and started to fuck himself with my cock and then got into a steady rhythm that he was enjoying.  The position wasn't working for me, however, so I pushed him flat and resumed missionary fucking him.  Then the sensation in my cock resumed and we started to grunt in pleasure together again.  I got fully back into it and was delivering a fine fuck, giving him corkscrew grinds and pulling back with short jabs followed by full thrusts.  And then I felt another load rise and spurt it him.  His feline smile let me know he felt it too; surely not the load but the change in my cock and its pulsing.  I sighed with a "whew" and rolled onto my side, pulling out of him.  He finally seemed satisfied; I guess he wanted a second load from me more than to cum, but didn't want to say it.  He smiled and said "I really liked that."  Understatement of the century.  He defines a greedy (but not needy) bottom.

Okay, after nearly two hours of nonstop fucking, where we were lost in each other, as close as two men could get, then we withdrew back into our respective selves and retreated to safe casual conversation about work, traffic, the weather.  I said "keep in touch" assuming this was a maintenance visit for him and that I wouldn't hear from him for many months from now, if ever.  However, he said with some genuineness:  "you too!"

I left, returned home, and tapped him a "thanks message, with another 'keep in touch'".  He quickly responded, "you too".  We'll see.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Bossy Little Bottom

Just a few minutes ago my Filipino boy left.  We both needed a maintenance visit, so he came by late this afternoon.  He's nice, but our encounters are usually pretty primal and task oriented.  When he arrives we make out and strip, but it's almost like following an instruction manual:  first he puts my cock under his balls as we make out; then he drops to his knees to suck me; then he tells me to sit on the edge of the bed so that he can suck me and keep one leg up on the bed as he strokes his cock while sucking me.

As it just unfolded I was struck by a couple of things, though for the most part I enjoyed it and played along.

First, I am just amazed by how small he is:  about 5' 6" or 5' 7" and probably weighs 120 lb.  As he started to suck my cock it registered how big my cock was in comparison to his head and his ass.  I was recognizing relative to his frame how big I am and how incredibly I must stretch him when I push into him. It must feel like taking a telephone pole for him.

But second, as we went through the ritual, it struck me that he was giving all the direction.  I guess if I was going to take something that big I'd want to call the shots as well.  However, I am the one usually calling the shots.

He calls me his daddy and refers to himself as my boy, and says I own his ass (the exercise is for me to mark it as mine again) and once in, he says it's all about making me feel good.  But for the most part there are a lot of yellow lights and stop signs as we move along with him being the traffic cop.

I started to think about it when, after he'd just directed me to lie back so he could suck me, he next told me to lie back so that I could eat his ass, which was then in my face as he straddled me. Typically I am the one who decides when and if I am going to eat the bottom's hole (almost always, lol) but I feel like that's a call I should make since I am doing the rimming.  Being told to do it kind of throws me off my game.

Now it's all great.  He has a super clean ass, and moans with appreciation, and wants to make out immediately after I tongue him, but it seems almost like a role reversal.  Not quite a power bottom, as I usually think of a power bottom as a guy who fucks you with his ass and demonstrates amazing muscle control squeezing you with his guts.   With this "boy" (the guy is in his mid 30s) he decides when I am going into him, and is fierce about wanting you to take your time until his ring voluntarily dialates and pulls you inside him.  It takes a long time for him to adjust to it and it's a very gradual process getting his body to gradually relax so that I can get balls deep -- like a l o n g time.

Tonight he straddled me.   He didn't have poppers (for which I was glad; I understand why bottoms use poppers but I can't stand them; during a hook up a month ago the guy spilled them all over the bed and I got a headache from the stench) so it took quite awhile for his body to allow entry and for him to take it:  rather than inch by inch it was like millimeter by millimeter.  However, that also added to the experience as I could feel it as he gradually opened, as my cockhead gradually popped in and then as he very gradually took one inch, two inches, three inches...  The intimacy was enhanced by seeing his determination as he grimaced and then hungrily bent down to repeatedly make out with me as he forced more of my cock into him.  He told me that I was the last one to fuck him, so he was really tight and needed me to take it easy (that seems to be an echo in my encounters, as of late...)

When I finally got balls deep, he was okay with my thrusting up and said yes when I asked if he was ready for me to fuck him; he was almost ready for me to take over.  Almost.   He wanted to be on his back.  As we separated and he started to lie on his back I wondered how long before we'd get me all the way back in:  when I first entered him he grimaced and hissed, but then he said "fuck me daddy!  My ass is yours daddy.  I want you to use it to make you feel good; it's all about  you feeling good!"

However, he was now really enjoying it.  At first he said "you like it slow, don't you?  That's fine; however daddy likes it!"   But then he wanted to me to pound it into him.  At first he had his hand stroking his cock (which makes me want to swat it away:  let me cum first dude, then we'll worry about your dick!)  but he pulled his hand away and submitted totally to focus on being fucked.

His ass does fit around my cock like a glove.  There was no question he was going to get my load; the question only seemed to be how long.  As I was now fucking him with no reservations he was rooting me on and invited me to fuck him twice (the usual pre-orgasm "eyes are bigger than your stomach" mentality.  Once he came he was done, but so was I.)  It felt really nice: smooth, warm, tight.  I decided to just go with it when I felt the first wave.  As in the past, he got really excited when he realized I was cumming and asked me to keep fucking him while he stroked off.  I was good with that and kept going, fucking my load deep up into him.  And then he started to cum:  like most little guys I have played with he shoots long streams of cum across his stomach (this time he didn't hit the wall.)

He asked me to keep still inside him after he came.  I briefly touched his nipple and the added sensation caused him to shiver from over stimulation.  Then suddenly he was making mundane chit chat, while my hard cock was still deep in his ass!  It was all good though.

I asked him if he was ready and I withdrew.  He was super concerned about whether he was clean and carefully wrapped a hand towel around my cock after I exited but I assured him we were okay (I have super sensitive olafactory senses and knew before looking he was as clean as a whistle.)  But then he asked me if I'd turn the water on in the shower for him.  Bossy bottom again (or, prince.)  After he was rinsed off we made cursory conversation as I walked him to the door.  He hopes I'll wake up early tomorrow to fuck him as I have the day off and he has to work (it's not likely to happen...)

Anyway, it felt good, but I always feel like the shoe is on the other foot with him.