Summer Reruns: Eighteen Inches

[Note: This was my very first post on The Neighbors Will Hear. If, by some bizarre chance, you've already read it, then you can go ahead and just look at the pictures, like you always do, but this time with my blessing. Otherwise, enjoy the text, too.]

I was working late Friday night, so I jumped on to gay.com and chatted up a guy whose bio line said he wanted a man to come over and shove his big dildo up his ass. I'm into that, but I'm not into that with nothing else, so I asked the standard questions about whether he was willing to make out (he was) and whether he liked nipple play (he did), and he asked whether I liked to party (I don't) and then whether I minded if he did (I didn't). A couple of pictures were exchanged. His replies were slow in coming, so I thought I might be getting the brush off, but I got his address and phone number and said I'd be there by nine.

I drove over to his apartment, and he was wearing only a t-shirt when he opened the door. A little cuter than his cute picture and with the kind of ass that you call sweet (but perky) rather than bubble. I wanted to shove my tongue up it, but I didn't get the chance: as soon as he'd hung up my coat, he was lubing both himself and his very impressive dildos.

It's fun to watch a gay man's desire do battle with his inate desire to be a good host. I pretty quickly had my teeth on his nipple -- through his t-shirt -- but after his eyes rolled back in his head for a minute, he remembered that he hadn't offered me anything to drink.

I had the sense that I'd be staying for a while, so I relaxed and went with the dynamic. I told him water was fine, and he said that he was going to make himself a martini. So I followed him in the kitchen and we discussed how martinis ought to be made. He makes his martinis dry by rinsing a chilled glass with Vermouth. I marinate my olives in Vermouth. He doesn't approve of olives. He shakes his Bombay Sapphire with ice until his hand is frozen. I store my Tanqueray in the freezer. He gave me a sip of his martini. Awesome, but mine are better.

We returned to the sofa and he removed his T-shirt. I went back to sucking and chewing his nipples while he lubed up his ass and a thick 12-incher with a handle. There was a soft kiss with two open mouths but no tongue and then he turned away to spray some head cleaner on a rag which he then put in his mouth while he pushed the dildo up his ass. He was in heaven. I started working his nips again and kissed him a little more aggressively. He was holding the dildo in with one hand, and I tried to pull him around so that he could straddle my waist and I could kiss him more, but he said that he was afraid he'd leak on me so I really needed to remove my pants.

I stood up and unbelted then dropped my trousers and my boxer briefs. He let the dildo out and grabbed my cock and then started to blow me. He wasn't especially subtle, but he was talented, and I told him that he was a great cocksucker. He looked up and smiled and said that he'd be a lot better after another hit of poppers and some tina. I wasn't thrilled about the crystal, but I'd told him that I didn't mind him using, so I couldn't really complain. He turned so that his back was to me and got out the drugs and a small blowtorch. A minute later he was back on my cock; this time he managed to deep throat it. Almost nobody can do that, so it was pretty hot, even though he couldn't entirely get his teeth out of the way.

I was ready to play with his ass again, so I grabbed the dildo, and he went back to sucking on my cockhead while I slowly pushed the dildo into him. A camera came out, pictures were taken. Mostly by me, but he took a few of my cock, too. He kept telling me that my cock was huge. It's really not huge, it's just very thick, but he sent me some of the pics, and in those pics, it does look huge. Of course, he had me pretty worked up.

He wanted to show off some more, so he stopped sucking me and grabbed his pride and joy: a thick, eighteen-inch, double-headed dildo. He told me that he could take the whole thing. I didn't really believe him, but I told him to go for it.

One of the hottest parts of the evening (and there were many hot parts) is that this guy and I could talk about sex while we were having it, and I mean that we could discuss it in a semi-intellectual way while we were both half out of our minds having a hot time. I told him, for example, that he was hot but that his ideas about kissing were off base. I think that when I told him that, he was sitting on my cock, and I was sitting up to kiss him. We'd been kissing, but at that point, he told me that he wasn't much of a kisser (he was wrong) because he thinks that kissing is a very intimate activity, and he has a physical association between kissing and being in love, and when he kisses a guy, it brings back some of the emotions associated with that. I told him I understood, but I didn't think that was necessarily a bad thing. He said maybe, and then he said he'd give me a kiss like that, but I had to let him do the work. I smiled and lay back, and he leaned forward and ran his tongue all the way around my lips, then pressed his lips against mine, and then his tongue started to feel my tongue up. I think that was when my eyes rolled back in my head. When he stopped, all I could say was "da-yum." I'm not really a southerner, so when "damn" has two syllables, you know I'm worked up.

What he told me was that I needed to be more vocal about showing that I was having a good time, so I stepped up the trite porn dialogue, and he got more into it. I've been having good sex with men for a number of years now, and this was probably the first time that it really hit home for me that cheesy porn dialogue is only cheesy when an actor says it. When you're really into it, it's just an articulated moan, and that's pretty hot.

But back to the eighteen-inch dildo. He told me to let him do it the first time, so I smiled and watched as he took another hit on his head cleaner and slowly pushed that giant dildo all the way up his very hot ass. To be fair (and tedious) he was still holding on to one of the heads by the tip, so he probably only had seventeen (or 17.5) inches of it inside him, but, still, where did it go? The boy was only about 5'8.

After he got used to it, he let me grab it and pull it partway out and then push it back into him. He wanted me to go pretty slow at first, but after a couple of minutes, he let me ram it into him, and that was hot. Hott, even.

Probably because of the poppers and the crystal, this guy had a fairly short attention span, so before long he was putting a condom on me and sitting on my cock. Even after having that huge dildo in him, he was nice and tight, and he could clench and make himself tighter. At this point, I was making an effort to be more verbally appreciative, and he liked that.

He'd told me when I arrived that a friend of his was supposed to stop by pretty late, and they were nominally headed to Baltimore to a bar, but that they'd probably just stay in and fuck. So after he and I had been at it for about ninety minutes, he hopped online to connect with his buddy. He told his friend what was going on, and they offered to include me in a threeway. His buddy was young and cute, but I was having a lot of fun with the first guy, and I figured a threeway with someone new would likely be less fun. Anyway, it had been a very long week, and while I'd been rock hard for ninety minutes with no sign of any softening, neither was there any sign that an orgasm was anywhere close. So I thought about it for half a second and told him that he should have a good time with his friend. (As it happened, I chatted with him a couple of days later, and he said that his friend had showed up totally drunk and that the sex had been no good, but he was fairly philosophical about the whole thing. I figure they must have at least had some good drugs.)

He told me that he and I needed to do this again ("and again and again and again") and that next time, I'd just sit in the bj chair and he'd suck me for a long time and then ride my cock. That'd be cool, but we'll see whether it happens. He seems like a decent guy, but you know how men are. If it happens, great, and if not, then I still had a great time.

I went home and my partner was asleep. I'd told him not to wait up for me because I'd be home very late, though really I'd expected to be working rather than playing. He was a little put out because he'd waited until 9 to have dinner with me. But he gets over things quickly (Mediterranean temper: flares easily, subsides easily). Besides, I had told him I'd be home late. And I'd fucked him the night before. Anyway, he understands why I need guys on the side because he needs them, too. And, especially during tax season, he gets more than I do. Lucky bastard.