Tax Day Trifecta

Why is it that guys who are fucked up are often such good lays?  Is it that they just don't have sex very often because of the guilt, so when they finally get around to getting fucked, they've got all that tension to release?  Or is it the guilt itself? Perhaps they enjoy it more because they feel like they're doing something wrong?  I don't know: I just know that I seem to know and/or attract a disproportionate number of guys who are both fucked up and really great lays.  And it can be something of a problem because the fact that they're fucked up makes them unreliable, so I kind of don't want anything to do with them, but the fact that they're really great lays, well, the implications are kind of obvious, innit?  Add in the fact that I'm no good whatsoever at holding a grudge, and maybe you'll understand why I say, "Sure, why not?" when most of these guys (there are exceptions, and there are guys that I cut off absolutely, but mostly those are the guys who've committed the unpardonable sin of being bad in the sack) email or text me wanting to play.

And that happened with two guys on the fifteenth.  I had tentatively planned to make an appearance at the office's offsite tax day party (I attended the onsite party, because it was onsite; also: food).  I never stay very long as the party exists mostly as an excuse for the youngsters to drink heavily.  (Also the not-so-youngsters, but I never like seeing my bosses either shit-faced or hungover.) But sometimes I'll go and have a glass of wine before going home and either hooking up or having a wild night of Netflix and diet soda on the couch.  Anyway, on this tax day, I had later-evening plans to play with a boy (older than me, I think, but still a boy) who was going to be in town on business and whom I had fucked senseless (arguably not such a long personal journey for him, but whatever, right?) the last time he'd been in town on business.  So it seemed reasonable to hit up the party.

But then I got a chat message from this guy who's been saying since 2009 that he wants to be my slave.

So.  If you had the dubious pleasure of knowing me personally, you'd probably not think me a likely person to have a slave.  And you'd be right.  Nonetheless, it is a not uncommon occurrence for me to be hit up by random bottoms, from various Internet sources, claiming that they wish to serve me in this capacity.  And I have to admit that it's tempting.  Not because of the sexual aspects because (with all due respect to the slave-owning tops out there whom I am not judging [totally a lie: of course I'm judging you if you want to own a slave; have you never heard of the Thirteenth Amendment?  Or, I don't know, the Civil War? And don't give me that bullshit about how the Civil War wasn't fought over slavery; of course it was fought over slavery.  The people who tell you otherwise are racist scum who wear Confederate flag t-shirts. Not that I'm judging.]) being a hard-core dominant is something I only want to do once in a while, and even then, I'm not so much hard core as maybe firm core. Yeah, that's me: an occasional firm-core dominant.  You can see why I don't use such a description in my online marketing. 

Anyway, the thing is, most guys who want to be slaves fall into one of two camps.  First there are the guys for whom it's entirely a fantasy, and these guys are mostly trading email messages with you where they talk about the joys of being owned, and if you oblige them by fabricating similar messages about how you want to put their cock in a chastity device or house them in a cage or whatever, they're just going to use those messages to wank out some unspecified number of loads, but they're never going to actually show up at your place for service.  The other group are the people who totally misunderstand the entire concept of slavery and, in effect, want to be kept men.  They hate having to go out in the world and earn their living.  They hate having to make decisions.  So they want to lie about the house all day while you're off earning your paycheck, and maybe they'll do the odd bit of housework, and they have dreams of being fucked senseless (here again, no great accomplishment, given how little sense they have to start with) every night.  And while real slavery is -- OF COURSE -- abhorrent, fake slavery is just dumb.  Real slavery was an economic institution, and no sensible slave owner would have purchased a slave who wasn't going to be an economic asset.  And when you explain this obvious bit of economics to members of the second group, they kind of dry up and go away.

But then there are a few people who basically want to be part-time slaves (a proposition that is nonsensical on its face, but whatever), and I am embarrassed to admit that I have tried with a few of these people because, well: free housework.  But it never works because it turns out, unsurprisingly, that slave wannabes and cleaning fetishists are mutually exclusive sets, and whenever I've had someone claiming to be a slave come over to clean my house, he always requires lots and lots of supervision and is not very good at cleaning.  In other words, I have to stand over him, and, oh fuck, just hand me the mop and get out of my house and I'll have it done in half the time.  There was one guy that used to just be a hook-up (at which he was very skilled) who over time wanted to be more and more enslaved when he left his girlfriend at home and came to see me for 1-5 hours, and he would clean some, but when my patience had been worn away to the point where I decided to just leave him at home when I went back to work (I knew where he lived, and it was tax season), he spent time that was meant to be spent cleaning trying to shove increasingly improbable items up my ass.  And while that large bottle of dark sesame oil was very likely already rancid, I still resented having to throw it away when I came home to find it in my shower, covered with fecal matter. (I mean, wtf, dude: I HAVE sex toys.) After a short while, I came to realize that this guy just liked making me angry so that I'd fuck him harder, and after a not much longer while, I just couldn't handle it any more, and I decided that I should send him on his way before he provoked me into doing more than just slapping him around.  (I did not slap him around hard enough to leave a bruise, and I would generally do it when I wasn't angry because he liked it so much, but I find anger especially toxic, and I don't ever want to experience myself out of control.)  There was another slave wannabe who showed some potential, but he was horrifically unreliable, and mostly what he wanted to do was iron my shirts, and, I mostly buy the Lands End no-iron cotton shirts, and when I don't, I just really don't find wrinkles to be such horrible things.  You know?

Anyway, the guy from Monday/tax day was somewhere between those first two groups of slaves manqué.  He probably has some legitimate desire to be closely controlled and to be fucked hard and rough, but he has no follow through.  I had gotten to the point where I would reply to his (not very frequent) messages with a "let me know when you're ready to come get fucked; I don't have time to make up shit for you to jerk off to." But he seemed earnest this time, and I really didn't want to go and hang out with my colleagues, and I figured that if he didn't show, I could start getting caught up on my laundry and cleaning or (more likely) turn on the tube and melt into the sofa.  And, of course, there was always the off chance that that other guy would follow through.  That other guy is a bottom who lives deep in the heart of DC, high up in some very nice apartment building with absolutely miserable parking, and I usually travel to see him because he usually contacts me when he's home alone and drinking.  He's another one of those guys who are unreliable but freaking hot in bed, so while I've learned not to expect anything from him, I can't quite write him off entirely.  Well, I came really close a few months ago when he said that he was going to travel out to see me and didn't show up and then hours later had asked me to come to see him because he was drunk, and I finally figured that the timeline had been a) he asks to come out to my place to see me, b) he goes out to a bar and drinks a lot and tries to hook up, and c) he asks me to come see him when he strikes out at the bar and is too pissed to drive.  It made me kind of angry, so I told him not to contact me again, but then right near the end of busy season he emailed me to apologize and told me how much he missed my cock (not me, mind you, but it's not like I want this guy to be into my personality since I would never, ever date him, even if he weren't closeted), and I was feeling forgiving (as I almost always am), and I figured it would be ok to see him if he agreed to come out to my place AND I had alternative plans for the evening.  Double (or triple) booking is a good strategy for dealing with people like these two guys because the odds of both of them showing up are pretty low, and if they do both show up at the same time, well, either a) woohoo, it's a party, or b) one of them gets offended and leaves, and while I normally don't like to offend people, these are people who've already misbehaved pretty badly, so I'm not going to feel even slightly remorseful if they waste a trip.  And, in practice, I can't remember a time where someone showed up when my bed was already occupied and didn't decide to just join in.

So that other guy had emailed me a couple of times and said he'd come over when he was done at his office.  He'd had an original ETA of about 5:30, but he didn't end up arriving until 8, by which point the first guy -- who did, in fact, show up -- was just a distant memory.

I knew first guy was a submissive, so I, naturally, grabbed him and sucked his tongue down my throat as soon as he walked in the door.  This guy's like 6'3, massive, and solid, and it's always fun to dominate a guy who could destroy me in a fight, if I were a fighter.  Which I am not: I'm a lover.  Anyway, he was into it right away, and I had him upstairs and half-undressed and under me on the bed all in pretty short order.  And it was all hot and good except that he kept coming to the edge of freaking out, and I had to talk him back down.  Where "talk him back down" means "grab him and throw him down on the bed and tell him to re-fucking-lax." And -- it must always be so, apparently -- at some point I grabbed his cock kind of hard, and after about three seconds, he pushed me away and sat up and went all rigid, and it was obvious that he was trying to hold off a highly premature orgasm, and he actually managed to do that.  Unfortunately, I started to laugh because the whole situation was too ridiculous not to, and he said something about how if he'd cum, he'd feel all guilty for cumming too quickly, and now I'm sitting there of two minds because mind a) just wants to shove him down on his stomach and fuck him hard and without lube until he screams for mercy, but mind b) wants to explain to him the way things really are.  And if there weren't other guys in the pipeline, mind a) would likely have prevailed (except there would have been lube because he was really tight), but as it happened mind b) mostly won out, so I put him on his back and made out with him some while explaining to him that he was taking the whole thing waaaaaay too seriously, but then he got close again, and then he checked his cell phone and told me that he had to go because his sister had been running in the Boston Marathon, and he had texts from another sister and his father saying that she was in the hospital.  And, well, damn.  I'm pretty sure he was telling the truth about all of that, so I really had to be nice to him at that point, which likely means that he'll never be back, and that's too bad because submissives built like linebackers -- while not exactly rare -- are good additions to any top's harem.  I kind of wish I hadn't let him stop me from jerking him off (not that I necessarily had a choice: dude was strong) so that now I could say, "Easy cum, easy go," but, well: easy come, easy go.

I checked my email, and Rich (aka second guy) was running behind (no surprise there), so I took Luna out for a walk and then came back and sofaed for a while.  By 4/15, my mind is pretty much mush unless there's a difficult tax situation or an appealing piece of flesh to focus it, so time passed pretty quickly on to about 8:30.  I was starting to worry that Rich was either going to bail or -- worse -- run into the time for my hotel boy, but I forgot about that when Rich showed up.  He'd come right from work, and he looks delicious in a suit.  My inborn-and-hard-to-control inclination was to undress him right away, but Rich is kind of a high-maintenance lay, meaning that it was going to take a glass of wine and some conversation to get him upstairs and naked.  I'm not a big drinker these days, but I still had maybe a quarter of a box of Black Box Malbec (which I cannot recommend highly enough because it's pretty good, and the collapsible bladder inside the box means that it stays tasty for many weeks), so I pulled down two of my oversized red wine glasses and we sat on the couch and discussed the superiority of red wine.  It turns out that he's from Napa originally.  Who knew? 

Ten minutes later, I refilled his glass, and we headed upstairs, whereupon he headed into the bathroom to take a shower, leaving me to sip my wine and wish that I'd insisted on undressing him, but he wouldn't have liked that (without significantly more wine), and Rich is the sort of guy who demands and rewards patience, so I waited, and before long he appeared, wrapped in one of my big white towels.  He's totally smooth with really good skin, and about 5'9, and slightly fleshy, but solid.  He's hard to describe, but he's almost pretty, yet entirely masculine.  I lay him down on the bed and started to kiss him a little bit: he warms to that very slowly, but with persistence, and some detours to work his nipples, he gets more and more into it, so sex with him is always a long, slow, awesome process.  Thirty minutes later, he was going down on me, and I was slowly and thoroughly eating his hot, tight ass.  Sixty minutes later, he was on his side, and I was slowly pushing my cock into him en route to a hard fuck.  Ninety minutes later, I was on my back, and he was sitting on my cock as I alternately stroked his face and twisted his nipples, and he came hard on my stomach.  Ninety-one minutes later, he was rushing off to the bathroom and then getting dressed.  Dude doesn't stick around afterwards: he's too busy working through the guilt, or whatever, but while we were playing, I'd heard my cell phone make a notification that I was pretty sure was Hotel Boy, and since I was saving my load for him, I couldn't very well complain about Rich shooting and running.  Especially after he'd been there two hours in all. 

After I saw Rich out and fed Luna, I jumped in the shower and headed down to Silver Spring and Hotel Boy's hotel.  He met me in the lobby, and I shoved my hand down the back of his jeans in the elevator up to his floor.  HB is shortish (maybe 5'7) and trim and cute and very, very willing, so I tossed him down on the bed as soon as he had his shoes off (I used the time to put my glasses and cell phone on top of a bureau) and began to kiss him.  He's got nice lips and he uses them well, but I knew I was running on fumes at this point, so I moved on to his nipples pretty quickly, and by the time we'd been on the bed for ten minutes, I had him fully naked, and he was going down on me.  I let him just suck for a while before I told him to put his ass in my face, and I probably only had my tongue up his ass for another five minutes before I was shoving him down on the stomach, and applying the lube (I'd made him put the condom on me, of course: there are rules, after all), and entering him slowly.  He's got narrow hips and a very tight hole, so it takes me a bit to get into him, but he was also eager, and I wasn't feeling especially in the mood for oh-baby-let-me-fuck-you-nice-and-slow-tonight, so pretty soon I was bang bang banging away at him, and he was alternately biting the pillow and, um, vocalizing is the word I'm looking for, I guess.  If I'd been at home with him, I'd have taken the pillows away and let him shout, but even though the Marriott seems to have pretty thick walls, I don't like to make too much noise when I'm in public accommodations, so I pushed his head down into the pillow and fucked him harder and harder until I unloaded into the condom. 

If ever there was a time to roll over and go to sleep, this was it, but I'm nothing if not polite, so I lay on my side, shoved a couple of fingers up his ass, and sucked on his nipples while he jerked himself off.  Then, while he was off grabbing a towel, I did actually fall asleep for a few seconds, but there was no way either of us wanted me to sleep over, so I wiped up and put my clothes on.  He had, meanwhile, collapsed on the bed and was making half-sleepy, half-satisfied noises about how well-fucked he felt, and I leaned down and kissed him goodbye then headed back to the parking garage and then home.  I could have slept for a day -- especially since I had the next day off -- but I had to get up and walk Luna the next morning.  No rest for the wicked, I reckon.

Back to the Grind(r)

A month or maybe two (or, hell, maybe three) ago, someone left a really nice comment on this here blog, and it's since disappeared, but it made me think that I should probably post some sort of update, and it only took me one to three months to get started on it, so maybe there's hope for me yet.

Anyway, the fact is that I went through a period where I had significantly scaled back my sexual activities.  This was not really by choice: EFU had come back to the area and had been living with me while she got her Master's degree and then when she started working for a political canvassing organization, and while that was going on, things were pretty much status quo because she was working and/or studying long hours, so she was often not home until nearly midnight, which meant that I could typically have a boy over during the evening hours, though there were one or two unfortunate occasions where she decided to come home early and I had to either abort a meeting that was about to happen or yell "Don't come upstairs!"  But that was mostly ok, too.  I have always figured that if I was at someone's place and his kid came home, I'd be mortified, but it turns out that if you're fucking someone hard enough (as I generally am), he's kind of oblivious to the opening and closing of the front door one floor down.

Anyway, EFU worked the mad hours through the election (she was out in Colorado doing GOTV for the two weeks leading up to election day itself), and then she quit the political canvassing organization, took two weeks to be a slug, and then started job hunting.  She eventually found and accepted two jobs (one full-time professional position, plus a part-time gig at the Apple Store), and then she found some roommates and moved out at the beginning of the year.  But between the first Tuesday in November and the end of 2012, I had a housemate who was almost always around, and I became one of the things that I most dread: one of those guys who has to put "must travel" in his online ads and profiles.  Oh, the humanity.  A lot of the time, it just didn't seem worth the effort.

But the new year came, and suddenly I was home alone several nights a week, so I quickly (and gratefully) reverted to form.  It's so easy when all you have to do is open your front door and let the guy in: it's like getting food delivered in NYC (I've read).  And it's really nice to be back in the saddle, as it were.  To put a craigslist ad up on Friday evening and have a six-hookup weekend.  Or at least it was until tax season started, but that's a different (and seasonal, and recurring) problem.

In addition to the hooking up, I have also been dating some.  I have traditionally found dating crazy difficult for some combination of reasons that have to do with a) me, and b) the available dating pool.  Getting any farther into it than that would be tedious, so let me just say that all men are crazy. Fortunately, some of them are also nice.

Back to our story (nee "anyway"), last Friday night I only worked until 7.  I was supposed to be hooking up with some young submissive wannabe.  I'd played with him once before, and he was cute, but very inexperienced, and I hadn't expected to hear from him again.  But then I had, and we'd arranged that he was going to come to my place last night, where I was going to eat and then fuck his ass, which (he said) had never and rarely happened, respectively.  There'd been some back and forth on the whole rimming thing, with him saying (in many more words), "Ewwww," and me saying (in so many words), "Dude.  It will rock your world."  But the upshot was that he was ambivalent, and I wasn't really expecting him to follow through, so when I started getting noncommittal messages from him on Growlr, I renewed my CL ad.  And then about the same time, a young (22, which is really too young, but one makes exceptions) hottie from Scruff woofed me, and after some back and forth said he thought he'd like to play around midnight.  I didn't expect anything to come of that, of course, but I gave him my number and told him to text me later if he wanted to play, to see if I was available.

Then I got a hit from someone (35, Latin, smooth) who'd responded before (more than once) but then balked (more than once) when he found out that I have a dog.  And, hey, I get that some people have a fear of dogs, but, really, the worst thing that Luna is going to do to anybody is lick and paw them in a completely friendly way, and, honestly, if you're afraid of being licked and pawed in a friendly way, you have no business hooking up with me.  Anyway, I emailed this guy back to say, "Dude, you always reply, and you're always afraid of my dog," and I figured that would be the end of it, but this time he decided that having Luna confined to her crate would suffice.  I guessed he was horny.

So, some time passes, and this guy and I have been going at it for an hour or so, and it's mostly been pretty good (great head, and he loves loves loves what I do to his nips and ass, but he doesn't kiss) when I start getting text messages from the Mr. 22 saying that he thinks he can make it around 11:30 but he can only stay for ninety minutes or so.  I mention this to Mr. 35 who is going down on me, and he gets all excited, so I tell Mr. 22 that I have a skilled Latin going down on me now, but he's welcome to come join us, and Mr. 22 says that sounds hot but worries that he'll be expected to top Mr. 35, and I tell him not to worry because there's plenty of me for both of them.  Then I text him a pic of Mr. 35 sucking my cock, and the deal is sealed.  Mr. 22 calls for the address, and Mr. 35 gets on his hands and knees and asks me to fuck him again.  It's all good.

A while later, Mr. 22 calls to say that he's parking and about to walk down the block to my place, so I pull Mr. 35 off my dick and tell him to stay put.  Then I pull on my jeans and go downstairs to open the door for Mr. 22, who is very cute and not a little nervous.  First threeway.  Well, we all have to start somewhere, right.  At this point I'm feeling a little deprived because of Mr. 35's failure to osculate, so I grab 22 and start to kiss him somewhat fiercely, I suppose, and he's got that overwhelmed-but-oh-so-into-it thing going on because I feel him want to pull away but also really want to dive into the kiss.  I slide my hand up under his shirt and tweak a nip and he gasps, then I start unbuttoning his jeans, all the while kissing him and sucking on his lower lip.  After maybe half a minute, I turn him around and start him up the stairs, pulling his jeans halfway down and squeezing his perky little butt.

When we get to my room, I yank off his shirt and toss him down on the bed, start to kiss him hard again and begin twisting his nip while 35 pulls off his shoes and jeans. I reach down to his boxers, and his cock is small but very hard, then I move my hand farther down and come up his leg opening on his boxers and start to finger his ass. A few seconds later, I latch onto his nipple -- holding it between my teeth and flicking it with my tongue -- and he's breathing really hard and I run my hand back up to his cock again, and he cums right in my hand.

Ah, youth.

Thirty seconds later, 22 is on his feet, breathing hard, saying that he needs to go smoke a cigarette before round two, and I know that when he goes outside to have that smoke he won't be back.  I try telling him that it's ok that he's overwhelmed but that he'll have a lot more fun if he sticks around and I make him cum a couple more times.  There's some friendly banter, and he says that he's definitely coming back after his cigarette, but when he goes downstairs, 35 asks me if I think he'll be back, and I say, "No chance.  Suck my cock some more." 

There are a couple of highly apologetic texts from 22 about how overwhelmed he was and how new all this is to him, and he just doesn't want to believe me when I tell him that I'm not annoyed.  I suppose if I were in his position, I'd feel the same way, but from my position, it was really hot.  It would have been better, maybe, if he'd stuck around for me to fuck a couple of loads out of him, but the five minutes he was there were pretty smoking, and I still had 35, who was giving me a grrrrreat blow job and then sticking his ass in the air for me to plow.  Which I did.

35 stuck around for a while and turned out to be very cuddly and fairly intelligent.  He has a nominal boyfriend who lives in Northern Virginia (don't get me started) and whom he sees once or twice a month and who is a top but who hasn't fucked him in a year (35 hadn't been fucked by anyone in a year: so tight).  It was fun to hang out with and fuck him.  Eventually, he came hard all over my chest while I was eating his ass.  He talked a lot about how nice it was to share a bed with someone again, and I invited him to sleep over, but we both had to be at work early Saturday morning, and I was mostly relieved when he declined.  It also made things less complicated when another buddy texted me Saturday morning and then came over to take my long-deferred and very energetic load.

The Annual TED Sluts Around Manhattan Post

Hey y'all.  How've you been?  I feel bad about not writing for a while.  I was going to write about the guys I had sex with on my recent trip to NYC, but that was a few weeks ago now, and I only made the following notes here shortly after my trip:

1. Peruvian Medical Coder
2. Cypriot Something or Other
3. American Producer
4. Colombian Chef
5. Italian Chemical Engineer
6. French Endowment Manager

So we know the order of the guys I bedded, and we know the nationalities of all the guys and the careers of five of the guys, but the rest of the details are a bit fuzzy.

On the other hand, let's try.  We'll start by re-ranking the guys in order of my enjoyment of them:

1. French Endowment Manager
2. Colombian Chef
3. Italian Chemical Engineer
4. Cypriot Something or Other
5. Peruvian Medical Coder

Yes, we're one man down, and -- of course -- it's the only American I got horizontal with.  And I have to say: Americans, it's time to step up your game.  Each and every one of the European and South American guys I hooked up with was somebody I'd happily play with again, but it just so happens that the American dude is someone who actually lives in Maryland.  He hit me up on Scruff about a week after we'd played in New York and said he wanted to get together again, and I didn't even reply.  In general, I think it's a bad idea for a bottom who says he wants to suck me off and get fucked to show up, get naked and horizontal, and -- twenty minutes in -- inform me that he doesn't suck cock on the "first date."

Wait, were we dating?

Anyway, I believe that you play the hand you're dealt, and we were already twenty minutes in, so I made him shoot his load at the twenty-one-minute mark and thought about European capitals while he got dressed and then left.

I got into NYC on a Wednesday afternoon and left Saturday morning.  I did the first two guys on Wednesday evening, Mr. Makes-Me-Embarrassed-To-Be-American on Thursday, and the other three guys on Friday.  I did the Colombian Chef in the afternoon, and he gave me some very helpful restaurant suggestions for dinner.  I'm afraid that I rather rushed through the Italian (who probably deserved more time) in order to get to the French guy who was very cute, very charming, and very responsive.  He eventually came when he was sitting on my cock, with just the cockhead inside his ass, and I was stroking him off.  His face contorted in a memorable way when he shot, and then we chatted amiably for a while, and then he left to go home to his son, who was visiting from Paris.

If memory serves, I only came twice, once with the Cypriot and once with the Colombian, but it is never really about the cumshot with me.

All of the non-horizontal parts of the trip were really great, too.  I made a conscious effort not to spend so much of my trip fucking this time.  Six seemed like a good compromise.

EMA

Yes, we love acronyms at The Neighbors Will Hear. In fact, we love them so much that we know -- and will tell anyone who'll listen -- when someone is saying "acronym" when they really mean "abbreviation." If you're saying the letters, you're using an abbreviation. If you're pronouncing a word spelled by the letters of the abbreviation, you have an acronym.

My favorite acronym is FWP (I say "fwip"), which stands for "friend with privileges." In fact, I was visiting my very favorite FWP (RC, which is an abbreviation but not an acronym. It stands for "ridiculously compatible.") this morning. We've been getting together more frequently, but what with tax season picking up and all, it's been difficult to arrange an evening for sex and dinner (our usual), so I suggested an early morning assignation (EMA!). He was amenable.

In our email exchange, he'd offered to show up at the door naked and bring me coffee. I'd said, "Naked, yes. Coffee, no." He actually showed up in a bathrobe, but it was unfastened, and I slid it off him before the door was fully shut, so close enough, I reckon. Generally, I wrap my arms around a guy and pull him close for a kiss right away, but given RC's inclinations, it makes more sense to pull him close by the nipples, so I did that.

And, well, I call him ridiculously compatible for a number of reasons: he loves getting his nipples worked fully as much as I love working them; he's a great and eager kisser; he gives great head; his torso is just the right length that when he's going down on me, I can eat his ass with nothing more than a single pillow under my head; and he loves getting fucked.

So we did all of those things, or as much as you can do in an hour. Which turns out to be quite a lot, especially when you each know exactly what the other guy likes, and you're both really horny. I'm always really horny, of course, but RC hadn't been fucked in a while, so he was more eager than usual, and he wanted to be fucked after less than half an hour of making out and nip play. I was a guest in his home, so it would have been rude to tell him no.


So this is all going to sound weird, and possibly a little crass, but while I genuinely like to fuck ass, it's not my very favorite thing, and because of the condom, I almost never cum just from fucking. I'm very aroused when I start out, but I don't usually get much more aroused once I've gotten going, so it becomes a bit of a repetitive motion thing, albeit a very pleasant one. And when I do any sort of repetitive motion thing (examples include walking the dog and playing Doodle Jump), I have a tendency to start counting. And because I've been counting things for a long time (I don't have OCD, but it's a mild eccentricity I've had from my youth), I often try to count in varied ways. For example, when I'm fucking, I typically go at about two thrusts/second, so I'll maybe count (always internally, of course: I'm not rude) on every other thrust so that when I get to a hundred, I've done two hundred thrusts. And then I'm likely to change position. I didn't start counting with RC until after we'd done a couple of preliminary positions (him riding me, then me standing beside the bed) and I had him belly down, plowing him from above, but then after some indeterminate number of thrusts I counted to a hundred, giving him two hundred (more) thrusts before I slowed up the rhythm for a minute.

And then I decided to go with my current Doodle Jump method of counting, which basically involves counting to ten, then counting to ten sets of two, then ten sets of three, and so on, until I get to ten sets of ten, so that when I'm done the cycle, I've done 550 of whatever I'm doing. But 1,100 thrusts is pretty much pushing my endurance if I'm going full speed, so I counted each thrust, which meant counting pretty fast, and I was somewhere up in the tens (i.e., just over 500, on top of the prior 200, on top of whatever I did before that) when RC said that his neck was sore, so I stopped. I rolled off, and he apologized, while also saying that his ass hadn't felt that alive in years. He was insistent that I cum, so I finished off by hand.

Anyway, the point is that I reckon I gave him about eight hundred thrusts when he was on his belly, and I have no idea whether most people would think that's a lot or just barely getting started. It seemed a little below average for me, but there are a lot of perception biases when you're estimating this sort of thing, so I don't really know. Anyway, he seemed happy.

I was happy, too, but then I had to go to work on a Saturday morning, which, frankly, was a bit of a buzzkill. Such is life, I reckon. Still, it gave me some interesting numbers to think about. In the interest of continued data gathering, I think I'll see if I can figure out how to attach my Fitbit to an appropriate body part during sex. The mind boggles.

In Which TED Answers Your Question

A comment from my last post:

Anonymous said...
Do Asian guys normally have smaller cocks?

As it happens, I'd like to answer that question.

Dear Anonymous,

Yes.

Love,
TED

Unsurprisingly, however, I have more to say about it than that. First, let me start off by pointing you to this map. I can't really vouch for the underlying research, but I will say that it comports with my experience, which could be summed up with a vast (but not, I hope, offensive) oversimplification: black cocks are bigger than brown cocks; brown cocks are bigger than white cocks; white cocks are bigger than yellow cocks.


As I said, that's an oversimplification. There are hung guys from the far east, and there are small-dicked Africans, though I can only remember playing with one black guy whose cock I would actually consider small. But, on the whole, some ethnicities/nationalities have bigger cocks than others. There are plenty of guys who will tell you that this isn't the case, but I don't believe them. (Typically, the guys who tell me that are guys who have not personally examined as large a sample size as I have; they're also usually white guys who mostly stick to white cock. More for me.)

The bigger question here is whether size matters. And the answer is yes, but only to some people, and in varying amounts. There are, of course, the hardcore size queens, for whom bigger is always better, and who will often end up with people that have you asking, "What does he see in him?" until you see him in a Speedo. There are also the (significantly rarer, I believe) guys for whom a small cock is a prerequisite to lust.


Most people have some sort of preference for larger or smaller cocks, but it's just not that big of a deal. Here's an analogy. Let's say that your favorite ice cream flavor is rocky road. If you go to an ice cream parlor, you're going to order rocky road. You might be disappointed if there's no rocky road and you have to get something else, but you'll take something else. But let's say you're in your office, and someone comes around and offers you a cup of strawberry ice cream. Are you disappointed because it's not rocky road? Hell no: you got ice cream! This is how most guys are with penis size.


When you're talking about body parts and attraction, you (or at least I) have two different things going on. There's your aesthetic attraction and then there's your visceral attraction. Aesthetic attraction is something that you look at and think, "Oh, cute!" (or whatever). Visceral attraction is something that gives you wood. I, for example, still have an aesthetic appreciation for a good pair on a woman, but it's a purely mental phenomenon. A great set of manboobs (which in my case mostly means fabulous nipples), on the other hand, makes the motor run. You can plot your levels of aesthetic and visceral attraction on a graph. I have done so: [I apologize for the orientation and crappy quality of this graph. I sketched it on scrap paper and photographed it with my iPhone. I'll fix it later and remove this note.]


I have, as you can see, more of an aesthetic than a visceral appreciation for cock. Obviously, I have some sort of visceral attraction to them since I like to make them shoot, but I get a lot more worked up (aesthetically and viscerally) by lips and nips. And when it comes to size, well, it varies. By and large, I like my men's cocks to fit the stereotypes and the body. If I'm playing with a Black guy, I like a big cock, especially if he's a big guy. If I'm playing with an Asian, small and uncut, please. I'm sort of ambivalent on cock size when it comes to Latin men, and on white guys, it's mostly a question of how tall the guy is. I find a long, well-formed cock to be very pleasing (aesthetically much more than viscerally) on a tall white guy. Then again, regardless of race, there's something very entertaining about a short guy with a massive dick. It's just cool.

But none of these things matter very much. They're just nice to see in that I'm-at-the-ice-cream-store-and-I-can-have-any-flavor-I-want-plus-sprinkles-and-a-cherry sort of way. (When I'm dealing with a guy one-on-one, I'm more likely to just focus on whichever feature I like best on that guy.)


And, again, that's just me. There are plenty of guys for whom big dick is the main attraction. But big dick can mean a lot of things. I, for example, do not think of myself as hung, but if you look at the statistics, the circumference of my cock is in the upper levels, even while the length is just maybe slightly above average. So I not infrequently have the experience of hooking up with a guy who's slightly aesthetically disappointed by the length but is viscerally ecstatic when I get around to fucking him and who leaves thinking that I'm huge. I'm really not boasting here: my cock is what it is, and everyone who likes to have a lot of sex with multiple partners makes the most of whatever advantages he has. I happen to think that my technique is more impressive than my shaft, but whatever brings guys I want to play with to my bed is fine with me.

Break-Up Sex

I'd been dating this guy (aka That Guy) for a little over a year, but that ended -- not, as they say, with a bang but a whimper -- late yesterday morning. I always figure there are two sure ways of getting over a guy: ice cream and other guys. I was out of ice cream, so I posted to craigslist.

I haven't been posting to CL much lately because That Guy had said that if I was going to have sex with other guys (which he wasn't doing), I needed to be discreet to avoid embarrassing him. So I'd cut down on my online presence (and my hook-ups, alas) significantly. I was still fooling around, mostly with guys I'd played with before, but rarely more than once or twice a week.

Anyway, I only had until about 3:30 to play, since the girls were coming over around 4, but I got a live one pretty quickly. He was a smooth, blond sub in his mid-thirties, and he wanted the usual treatment: call him a slut, and he's yours. I let him in the door, closed it, and pushed him against it, took his lower lip between my lips, grabbed his hand and put it on my crotch, grabbed both his nipples, and took his breath away for a bit. I turned him around, pushed him towards the stairs, and grabbed the back of his waistband and pulled his jeans and boxers down over his ass as he walked up.

I bent him over the bed and smacked his ass a few times, then told him to strip. When he was naked, I grabbed his nips and backed him onto the bed, lying on top of him and kissing him while I kept twisting. Then I straddled his chest and started to feed him my cock, but not many guys can really suck cock in that position, and he wasn't one of them, so I pulled him up, lay down, and pushed his head towards my crotch.


The whole thing seemed very driven, so rather than let him just go down on me for a while, I pulled his ass around and started to eat and finger it. He was really tight, and getting two fingers in took a bit of effort, but it was all fun. I told him not to stop sucking me as I reached between us to tweak a nipple.

A few minutes later, he came up for air, and I told him to sit on me. I handed him a condom and the lube, he gloved me up, slicked his ass, and had a seat. Well, tried to have a seat, at first, anyway. Really tight, and it took him a while to open up, but before very long he had managed to pull my whole cock into his ass, and he rode while I played with his dick. He was pretty worked up, and it looked like he might be getting too close to shooting, so I grabbed his thigh and lifted, which he correctly took as a sign to get off my cock, then I put him on his back, bent him in half, and slid back into him. I took it easy for the first few strokes, but I knew he'd love it hard, so I started thrusting away. That's always such a great position: it's very intense for the bottom, it's an easy position for me to fuck really hard in, I never shoot that way, and sometimes the bottom will cum without me even touching his cock. This guy didn't, but he appreciated the hard fuck, and I occasionally got to reach down and pinch his nips.

This guy had said that he liked bondage, but I wasn't really feeling into full-tilt tie down, so I put one of his wrists in one of the restraints that I keep tied to the bed, and that seemed to be enough. The advantage of one wrist only is that I could (and, in fact, did) move him from on his back to on his side to on his belly without untying him. But after that, I did untie him and had him mount me again so that I could jerk him off while he bounced up and down on me. I knew I had another guy coming over in less than an hour, so I didn't really want to cum, and I wasn't so sure I'd be able to pull that off, so to speak, because this guy was really tight, and his ass was really working my cock. But I did make him shoot on my chest before I was on the last leg to orgasm, and I was even able to let him climb off, wipe up, pull off the condom, and stroke me for a while before I stopped him and told him that was enough. Then he got dressed and headed back home to his partner (he didn't say, but I'm pretty sure).


When Brian didn't show at 1:30, I emailed him, and it turned out he'd been waiting for me to contact him again. I'd gotten a text from Ken saying that he'd like to play, and Ken always likes groups, but Brian really didn't seem like the type. I'm usually pretty comfortable with just telling everyone to show up because when I do that one of three things happens: a)somebody doesn't show up (20%), b) one person gets a little freaked out and leaves (5%), or c) the more the merrier (75%). But Ken always takes a little while to arrive, so I told Brian to come on over, and Ken said he could be there by 3 and gone by 3:45, so it all should have worked out.

And it did.

I'd only hooked up with Ken once before, but he it was a real fun time, and he was a real nice guy, so I felt a little sheepish about just grabbing him without chatting on the couch for a bit, but deadlines are deadlines, and once we started kissing in the living room, his reticence to just get into it (which had been palpable on first lip lock) melted pretty quickly. I also pretty quickly got him upstairs and naked, and he said, "Damn, you're horny." I said, "We don't have all that much time, and, yes, I'm definitely horny." I was somewhat gentler and less rushed with Ken than with Sub 1, but most of the same things happened. Ken's a black guy with fabulous lips, so there was more kissing, and he has very reactive nipples, so there was more nip play, and there was not -- alas -- time to eat his ass, so we moved more directly to the fucking, but we did most of the same things in most of the same positions, and in the end, he came (I had him on his back, and jerked him to climax while I latched onto one of his nips), and I didn't. I know that description sounds a little bit dismissive, but it was definitely grrrrreat sex, and I hope that I'll have him again soon for a more protracted session. He lives not far away, but he's still in his bi phase, and it takes a while for the hunger to overcome his reticence. Guys like that can be frustrating, but they're a lot less frustrating when you have a lot of them stored in your contacts list.


Ken showed up a minute or two after 3, and he knew we had a deadline, so he wanted to get right upstairs and undressed. Ken's cute, and he has big soft lips, and a really nice ass, but he's mostly just into frot, and the last time he was over he freaked out a little because he'd started dating someone and was feeling really guilty. He's still dating the same guy, but apparently he's moved past the guilt phase, and we've exchanged a number of texts recently. I reckon he saw the CL ad and contacted me directly.

Anyway, we got right into the kissing and frot, with us alternating who was sucking on whose lower lip and who was on top. And I sometimes worked his nips a little or kissed his neck, but mostly it was just half an hour of naked making out with frot. Or, I guess, from his perspective it was naked frot with making out. Either way, he got increasingly excited from the rubbing of our dicks together, and he eventually shot. Then he said, "We have to get you off," so I sucked on his lips some more, grabbed my cock, jerked for a few minutes, and, well, apparently I hadn't actually cum in a few days because I ended up with semen all over me. But I keep towels by the side of the bed for a reason, right?

Anyway, he was gone by 3:45, and by that time, That Guy was pretty much washed right out of my hair. There's a tiny bit of residual melancholy, but only because I still haven't had any ice cream.

Bits and Bobs

Well, let's call him Bob, anyway. I didn't bother to learn his name the first time we hooked up, and that was two or three years ago. I reckon I've fucked him about ten times since then, and he's reliably a two-star lay, but he was on fire yesterday. He'd gotten in touch with me online about ten days earlier, and I'd planned to go over to his place a week earlier, but it didn't pan out for a reason that I can't remember but that was my fault. Anyway, when I got there, he had to come downstairs to let me in, and the elevator had been commandeered by someone moving in (or perhaps out), so we walked up to his fifth floor condo. Nice view. Of his ass, I mean.

Inside his condo, when I began kissing him, he responded with unusual vigor, and it was a very fun time. I figured that he hadn't had sex (or at least cock) in quite some time. We made out in the hallway for a few minutes, and I went at his nips for a while before I pushed him along into the bedroom. As usual, he said nothing. He's very much the strong, silent type (he's a truck driver for a local construction company), but I learned that I can get a little noise out of him by kissing, sucking, and biting the side of his neck, just under his jaw line. He was still dead silent when I fucked him, but that didn't happen for half an hour. I don't usually get nearly so much foreplay out of him, and I wondered idly, as he was going down on me, and I was fingering his ass, whether he was going for a third star. Which is a little silly, really, since it's not like I'm publishing some sort of Guide Michelin of bottoms and by giving me better head and/or ass he'd be increasing the flow of tops to his establishment. I rather doubt that he plays with any other guys. He always claims to be single (divorced) and that the woman who lives with him is just a roommate, but her blouses were on hangers on the bedroom doorknob, the decor in his room is decidedly feminine (and he is decidedly not), and when he said "Go easy" and I asked him for some lube, he fetched it from the top of a very tall dresser, where it was hidden behind some scrollwork. The copy of Ladies Home Journal on the bed stand was also a clue.

Anyway, I don't really care if he has a live in girlfriend as long as she doesn't walk in on us (We can discuss another time whether a shriekingly angry girlfriend or one who wants to join in is more horrific.), and it was a fun hour to cap off the weekend's sex. The jury's still out on the final rating, but it's a good one.



The recent -- and nearly full-time -- return to the nest of my oldest daughter has definitely meant a reduction in the frequency of my sexual exploits (I still go see the current bf one or two times a week, but I think that particular relationship has an expiration date on it), but she spends the odd weekend and evening at her mom's, and she usually tells me in advance when she's going to do that, so I try to cram in as much sex as possible during that time. So, for example, on Friday night, I was juggling the responses to a craigslist ad when I got an email from Mike saying that he'd had his root canal, and that he was very horny (no sex since we'd played before he'd gone to California for a week with his family) but couldn't kiss. At almost exactly the same time, a text from BLABS (built like a brick shithouse) informed me that he "need[ed] cock." So I emailed Mike that I'd be available later, and I texted BLABS to come over. He lives no more than a mile away, and he said he was just out of the shower and then would be on his way, but when there was a knock on my door five minutes later, it was Mike.

Mike's a twenty-something Chinese top who (when he hasn't had a root canal) kisses pretty well after he's warmed up, but who I play with mostly because he's too cute not to. He works in his family's restaurant business and lives at home, so he doesn't have a lot of opportunities to play, and he's not very experienced, but he has nice lips, and he's friendly, and he's oh so reactive when I suck his nipples or eat his ass.

Anyway, I was expecting BLABS momentarily, and Mike's expressed some interest in a threeway, but BLABS and Mike would be a laughable combo, so I just gave Mike a quick hug and began to suck on his nipple and stuck my hand down the back of his jeans and squeezed. Then I unbuttoned the jeans, got on my knees and began to suck on his cute, little cock. (His cock, in fact, is so cute and so little that I let him fuck me once because a) it isn't long enough to penetrate, and b) it gets him so worked up that he comes in, no lie, twenty seconds. He insisted on wearing a condom, and the only ones available were my Magnums, and, well, it was pretty funny, but he really liked it. He whispered "I love you" when he came. He really is cute.) I reached up and tweaked his nips a bit, then I turned him around, bent him over the couch, and ate his ass for maybe thirty seconds before I stood him back up, turned him around, took his cock in my mouth, stuck my thumb into his ass, and sucked for another minute, which includes the time it took to swallow. I hugged him again, and he left. I told him next time would be longer.



BLABS showed up a few minutes later, and, well, usually BLABS is leaving about five minutes after he arrives because he's often over in the middle of the night, after having snuck out of his bed, and he wants to be back before his girlfriend notices that he's missing. This time, apparently, his girlfriend was out for a while because we actually made out at the door for nearly a full minute before he started up the stairs. As will always happen when he's here, I only let him get a few steps up before I grab the back of his waistband and pull both it and him down so that I can eat his ass on the stairway. This got him very heated up, but when I got him upstairs, he went with (some) more kissing instead of immediately trying to sit on my cock. He even went down on me for a while. Which, to be fair, he usually does, but only long enough for me to shove my tongue up his ass to loosen him a little.

No, this time he was downright leisurely, and he probably had probably been inside the house for seven -- or possibly even eight! -- minutes before he decided that he needed to be sitting on my cock. Typically, he rides the cock for no more than forty-five seconds before he's nutting and then dressing and leaving, but this time he rode for a couple of minutes and then I pushed him down on his stomach and gave him a solid three minutes of deep dicking.

Sadly, when I went to put him on his back and shove his ankles behind his ears, I discovered the signs of some gastrointestinal distress. It is not in my nature to panic at such occurrences, so I just shepherded him into the shower, and after a minute of soap and water, I continued fucking him in there. I am not so much into fucking in the shower, though, so after I'd made my point, I guess, I got out of the shower and waited for him in bed (which I'd changed). He came in with a towel wrapped around his waist, and, boy howdy, that is a sight to behold. It's kind of why I put up with his, um, accelerated style of hooking up. That and the fact that five minutes is not that much of my time that I miss giving it to anybody.

BLABS said that his GI symptoms were continuing and that we'd have to resume on another occasion. I shrugged and took the sheets downstairs to the washer.



I had two different Latino bottoms scheduled for slightly later in the evening, and although I tried to get them to be there separately, they both came at about the same time. Fortunately, neither of them minded the other's presence in the least, and since I had sufficient stamina and turgidity to fuck a load out of each of them, they both had a great time. As did I, though I didn't spill any of my own seed. I saved that for the midnight round, when yet another Latino bottom, this one in his early twenties, showed up and went down. On me, naturally. I tried making out with him and a few other things, but he insisted that he was on a tight schedule and needed to start sucking my cock right away. Oddly enough, he didn't complain when it took forty minutes of a very wet, very skillful blowjob before I finally took pity on him and took matters into my own hand. A minute or so later I put matters back into his hands, just in time for me to blow an immense load all over his face. He seemed very grateful. Also unwilling to stop sucking my cock, even after I'd shot the load. I began to feel a little uncomfortable, or at least my cock did, but after another couple of minutes, he got dressed and headed out. I went to sleep. All in all, a pretty good Friday night.