Boys

In the past, I have almost certainly said, probably in these very pages, that I was not especially pleased with being called "Daddy" or with calling someone else "Boy." I may have attributed this to the fact that there are two people -- who can by no stretch of the imagination be described as boys -- who have biological and emotional reasons to call me Daddy. Or perhaps I was ethically uncomfortable with the inherent inequality in a Daddy-Boy sexual dynamic.

Regardless, time changes things, and one of the few items that I've bothered to learn about myself is that it often takes relatively little time to effect relatively major behavioral changes in the sexual arena. (Unless we're talking about my bottoming, of course, because that still seems not to be happening. Fortunately, OA, who regards my ass the way I regard a plate of perfectly executed gnocchi, told me the other night that lying on my back with his cock in the upper portion of my trouser cleavage [there were no trousers present at the time, unless you count the ones on the floor, however] and moving back and forth until he cums on the small of my back is nearly as good as "the real thing." By the way, I don't want to leave the impression that I would do anything with a plate of perfectly executed gnocchi aside from eat them with great delight. I am not after some sort of [even more] twisted American Pie moment.) And if there are certain indignities associated with aging, and if said indignities are somewhat amplified in the gay community, then there are certainly compensating pleasures, and one of those pleasures is having some cute young thing call you Daddy while you're fucking him.

Another of those pleasures is being able to regard someone who would only be young enough to be your son if you were a truly prodigious heterosexual as a cute young thing. RC, for example, is about eleven months younger than me, but he likes to call me Daddy when I'm working his nipples, and I call him Boy (about which I am admittedly somewhat agnostic, but he really likes it) when I'm pushing his head down on my cock. I am not going to get into an extended commentary on aging in the gay community. It is enough to say that men who think that everything is downhill after thirty-five (or thirty, or twenty-five, or -- indeed -- eighteen) bring themselves enough misery without any piling on from me.

Anyway, on Saturday, I got an email from Pablo, with whom I'd previously hooked up in a hotel in DC when he was in the area for business last summer. Pablo (which is the name he uses in his emails, but is not his real name: he told me his real name some months ago, and I promptly forgot it, and let's just pretend I did that on purpose, ok?) is a cub probably of Irish descent from Vermont. I find him very cutep; I also find all that brownish red hair and pale skin somewhat at odds with the concept of Pablo, but what-the-hell-ever, right? After we played last summer, he emailed me several times for repeat engagements, but always at times that were inconvenient for me (mostly during the work day, sometimes even during tax season), so I'd had to pass. I was free late Saturday afternoon, however, so I told him I'd come to where he was staying. I know that he likes role play and submission, so I suggested that I be a neighbor knocking on his door to complain about his habit of walking around his back yard without any clothing. I further suggested that he answer the door without any clothing. Which he did.


I stepped inside put a finger on his sternum, backed him up against the wall and demanded to know what he thought he was doing walking around naked and don't you know there are children around here, boy? He trembled a little and apologized, and I told him that there were going to be consequences and asked him to show me to the bedroom. I followed him up the stairs, and he really does have a cute ass.

[I spent some time the other day reflecting on the abundance of cute asses in the world, or at least of the large number of cute asses that I come into visual or actual contact with. I attribute this abundance to some combination of ample nutrition and the fact that I'm able to appreciate a fairly wide range of ass types. I came to no conclusions, but it was a pleasant way to spend the first few minutes of a weekend morning, when I was nearly but not quite awake. I am aware that there may also be an abundance of ass-challenged folk, but I tend not to notice the backsides that do not attract me.]

He apologized profusely for his misbehavior, but I opined that he needed to be taught a lesson (one wonders whether it's even possible to have any sort of dom-sub roleplay that does not involve the phrase "you need to be taught a lesson, boy") and then I told him to bend over the bed, and I withdrew my belt from its loops and I began to spank him. I stopped momentarily to pass the looped belt between his legs and tug on the hard-on I knew I'd find there. Then I spanked him some more, prompting him until he was reliably saying, "Thank you, sir, may I have another?" after each thwack.

And then, as is de rigueur in these situations, I adopted a kindlier tone and asked whether he'd been walking naked in the back yard to attract my attention, but he only got about halfway through his reply because I had dropped to my knees from where I was able to spread his asscheeks wide and begin tounguing his asshole, which appeared to distract him from what he'd been saying. I stood up, turned him around, pulled him to me, kissed him hard, then threw him back onto the bed, climbed atop him and began kissing him -- less hard, more deep. And then I went for the nipples because, well, when don't I go for the nipples? I grabbed his wrists and held them over his head and went after the pits, which drove him just the right amount of nuts, and then I rolled him on top of me and squeezed hard on his rib cage while we kissed some more. He would have purred if he knew how, I'm sure.

I loosened my hold on him, and that was a clear invitation for him to go down on me. He made the requisite noises about the thickness of my cock, and I grabbed his hair and pushed him down on it.

You know, sometimes I think we don't take enough time to appreciate just how good a thing a competent blowjob is. Pablo is definitely a competent cocksucker, so I took several moments to lie back and enjoy what he was doing. I even voiced my approval, and he talked more about the thickness of my cock and how he let the delivery guy fuck him, but the delivery guy's cock wasn't nearly as big as mine, and, oh yeah, we're still doing roleplay. I had half hoped that we'd moved on to the mostly-unspeaking-intense-sexplay-where-both-our-mouths-are-busy part, but we hadn't so I said that I hadn't really noticed since when the delivery guy came to my house, he mostly just wanted to go down on me and then bend over and take it up the ass. Pablo got even more excited.

We kissed some more, and then he went down on me again while I ate his ass, and he moaned without ever ceasing the very good head, and I complimented his butt again and said that I'd known he was walking around naked for my benefit and that I was going to make it mine, and he gave me the "yes, Daddy" and the "please, Daddy," and pretty soon he was sitting down on it, slowly, asking me to be gentle, and I'm thinking, hey, man, I'm just lying here while you go at your own pace, but I made the usual noises about not wanting to hurt my boy, and, well, he's got a nice tight ass, but it's not as hard for me to get into as he thinks it is. And there's nothing at all wrong with that.

He rode me for a while, and then I put him on his back and rolled his ankles up to his ears and pounded him hard while he moaned happily. I fucked him in a couple of other positions, and then we ended up back with him on top, bouncing up and down as I thrust into him. He said he wanted me to cum, so I told him to work for it, and he squeezed his ass hard while I pulled on his nipples, and I felt the wave building, so I put his hand on his cock, and I had just started to shoot when I felt his ass clamping down hard on my rod as he began to spurt on my chest. He shouted out and then collapsed, his head between my legs, my cock still inside him. We both lay there and panted and smiled for a bit, and then he got up and grabbed a towel and cleaned me off. I got dressed, we chatted for a bit, and then I said goodbye, with a kiss and a swat at his ass.


I decided to take yesterday off, and the original plan was to do some cleaning and other stuff around the house, but I slept until 10:30, and then after folding my laundry (I had a large backup), I decided I was bored enough to play the Craigslist Tango, so I placed an ad. The best response (weekday ads always get huge response: the married guys with flexible schedules swarm out of the woodwork) came from a guy who'd replied to an earlier ad but who had an incompatible schedule, until yesterday. He was thirty and sounded eager to play, and I assumed that he was married. I gave him my number, he called, we talked for a bit, and he headed over from his office, calling once on the way when his navigation software failed him. That's about standard, I find. I was sitting on the couch, reading (Gravity's Rainbow) when he knocked on the door. As is so often the case, he was much cuter than his pictures, which raises the question why does he use those particular pictures, but mostly I'm just pleased when they show up and they're hella cute instead of just cute.

So I'm not really self-absorbed self-knowledgable enough to completely understand the dynamic here, but I was expecting maybe your standard one-star (that was fun; I'd do that again) married guy hook-up, but as soon as I pulled the guy to me to kiss him, it was clear that I was dealing with unreserved passion. And -- let me be clear -- I love unreserved passion, but you don't get it that often, and I hadn't been expecting it, so I found myself recalibrating on the fly throughout the next two hours. Because I'd also expected the standard married guy forty-five minute encounter.

Anyway, this guy was kissing me back with fervor, if not with the unrestrained crazed weasel fierceness that can be a bit much anyway, and responding with the perfect mixture of melting and increased energy when I twisted his nipples or slid my hands down the back of his pants and squeezed. Which I did several times because this guy wasn't getting any less interested in kissing. Yum. I did eventually turn him around and squeeze his ass as he walked up the stairs, where I (Yeah, I know, switch it up sometime, right? But it works so well!) tossed him onto the bed and climbed on him, kissing him for a while longer before I told him that I wanted to get him undressed. We accomplished that together. Cooperation is a good thing.

I just love smooth, slender guys (of almost any age), and if this guy was smooth in part from trimming, well, I love hairy guys just as much anyway, so where was this sentence ever headed? Anyway, in addition to smooth, he was warm, and it was a chilly day yesterday, and he felt really good in my arms as I rolled over and pulled him on top of me. I still had my pajama pants on, and he ground his crotch into mine, smiling at the feel of my very hard cock. He was very hard himself, and he had a pretty nice cock. When I put him back on his side and ran my hand down over it to his balls, I could feel that they were already pulled up tight against his body, which made me think quick married guy again, but the kissing was telling another story. He also responded vocally and positively to my tongue and lips on his nipples, but they were nipples that didn't have the look of worked nipples. It's a shame to leave a natural resource like that undeveloped, so I determined to do what I could with the limited time available to me.


At some point, though, I stopped to kiss him and he rolled back on top of me and took the opportunity to separate me from my pajama pants and then to start going down on me, and, well, I believe I have already made my position on competent blowjobs entirely clear. This was definitely more than competent, and when I made appreciative noises about his cocksucking ability, he thanked me and called me Daddy. Nice.

We went back and forth for a while between the hot kissing and the nipple play and the very good oral sex, and then I pulled his legs around and started to eat his ass while he was going down on me. Both my tongue and my fingers slid easily into it (although it was plenty tight), and I realized this guy probably had more experience than I'd given him credit for, and that's almost always a good thing. I got in deep with the tongue and then with the thumb and then with two and then with three fingers, and it all made him squirm and suck harder, and when I finally pushed his legs away and pulled him around for some more kissing, it was clear that he wanted to sit on it, so I pointed to the table holding the necessary accoutrements and told him to sit on it.

He didn't even give much of a pretense of not being able to take it. Again, he was plenty tight around my cock, but it wasn't that hard and didn't take that long for him to get me all the way inside him, and then he began rocking back and forth, and I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and moved my thumb back and forth over his frenulum, and he shook and bit his lip and then asked me to take my hand away because he really didn't want to cum that soon. It was at this point that my mixed expectation presented in their least elegant manner, and I asked him how long he had, which made him a) say he had "enough time" and b) ask me whether I needed for him to be gone. "Hell no." It was a very brief interval of inelegance, and as it was all accomplished with his cock squeezing my ass, there was no harm done.

Mike (the name he used in email; not his real name, which he did tell me, and which I actually do remember but likely won't by the time it becomes relevant again) leaned forward to kiss me while his ass continued to squeeze my cockhead, and that was hot, hot, hot, and he rode me for a while longer, but I really felt the need to pound him, so I put him on his back and shoved his knees up and entered him and grabbed onto his ankles and pushed them farther back and started to pound, pound, pound, as he began calling out "Fuck me, Daddy," and I pounded harder. Intense.

I pounded him for a while longer, until I felt like taking a break, at which point, I pulled out and lay beside him. He looked slightly confused: "Did you cum?" "Oh. No." "Are you going to cum?" "That is a very good question. I don't know. You're going to cum, though." "I got that impression." And then I kissed him some more until he said that he wanted to suck my cock again, and I laughed, and he looked puzzled again and said, "Does that mean no?" "It means you don't ever really need to ask permission to suck my cock."

So he started going down on me again, at which point it finally occurred to me that I wasn't in the middle of anything that could be described as a quickie, so I let him do that for a while, but when he said he wanted to sit on it again, I instead put him on his side and pushed one leg up since that's the best position from which to fuck while you're kissing, then I pushed back into him and leaned forward and kissed him while I was fucking him. "Oh, thank you, Daddy." Hey, I was just being a good host. Eventually I put him on his stomach and lay on him and fucked him from behind, a position I find highly conducive when I want to give a good rogering, and for a moment, he acted like it might be too much, but he was pretty quickly begging for more, which I was only too happy to give him.


When I was ready for another break (it was clear to me that as pleasant as fucking his ass was, I wasn't going to get off that way on that day), we kissed a little more, and he asked me what other things I liked. What kinks. I started to go through the list, but I only got to bondage because he said, "I like bondage," which caused me to raise an eyebrow and then reach down beside the bed where the leather wrist cuffs were still tied by rope to the corners of the bed from the relatively uninteresting young'un I'd had tied there a few days earlier.

I'm not sure what he was expecting, but once I had him restrained and had kissed him and worked his nipples briefly, I concentrated on his cock. I took the head in my mouth and ran the tip of my tongue slowly over the ridge before flicking it quickly over the frenulum, and he twisted in the restraints and told me that I was driving him crazy. "I know." Then I kissed him some more while I stroked his cock very, very slowly until he warned me to stop, at which point I got back between his legs and started to suck on his balls which nearly made him leap in the restraints before settling into a lasting writhing that got worse when I ran my tongue lightly along the intersection of his torso and thigh.

I don't know how long I had him tied up and kept him on edge, but eventually he said, "I really want to suck your cock again," so I unbuckled the wrist restraints and lay back. We'd been at it for a long while, and I'd gone soft while teasing his cockhead and making him twist in the restraints to avoid shooting, but as soon as he started back with his mouth, I was hard again, and before long, he said he needed to ride me again. Why not? He climbed back atop my cock and sat all the way down. After a bit of rocking and going up and down on it, I told him to give me his hands, and then I lowered him backwards into the X position, which seemed to be something of a revelation for him. I let him do that and groan for a bit, and then I grabbed his cock because I was really ready to see it shoot. And I really only gave it a few strokes before he was suddenly much louder and then sitting up just in time to spray healthy shots of cum all over my chest. He shook all over for a bit and then pulled off me and lay in my arms.

I wiped both of us off and offered him a shower, which he accepted. He returned and as he was getting dressed, we chatted a bit, and it turned out that the weird schedule and the wedding band indicated that he was gay and partnered not so-called straight and married. Well, that explained a whole lot. I walked him downstairs and gave him some directions and then kissed him goodbye and he left. Fifteen minutes later he called to say that he'd forgotten his computer, so I did at least get to see him a second time when he came back to pick it up. This isn't some letter to Penthouse, so we didn't fuck again when he came back: he was running late, and he'd lost valuable commuting time. I just handed him his computer and smiled at him, and he took off for Baltimore and his domestic scene. I smiled more as I showered and got dressed to pick up YFU. So, no much cleaning got done, but at least I got the laundry folded.

Zach Spends the Night

I was home feeling a bit let down last Saturday night. I'd arranged to go down to Opposites Attract place in DC, and I'd really been looking forward to it. OA is phenomenomally sexy, and I always get to his place, and we start making out, and then he sits down on the couch and starts to go down on me and then he takes me to the bedroom, and fifteen minutes later I find that four hours have passed and he's cum twice, and I'm slightly baked, and where the fuck did all that time go but I most definitely do not want those four hours back, nosiree Bob. Well, except that I wouldn't mind doing the four hours again, but you know what my mean.

Anyway, I was on my way to OA's place Saturday night, and I'd just texted him to let him know that I was running maybe ten minutes behind, when my phone chirped, and there was the dreaded text message:

TED I'm n bmore had a emergency

(sad trombone)

followed by

It will b better tommorow if u can make it or whatever day next week fits ur schedule

And, you know, I was so bummed that I didn't even notice until this very minute that he had misspelled "tomorrow." Also maybe just the tiniest bit peeved because I had only texted him because I was running late. If I hadn't, I'd have gotten down to his marginal NE DC neighborhood and found no one home.

Anyway, I didn't let myself dwell on it. I went home and read for a couple of hours and ate something that would be really bad for me if I weren't on an Atkins diet, which, come to think of it, I'm not, and then I sat down at the computer and played a tower defense game for a bit and noticed that Zach was online, so I sent him an email and soon he was on his way over. Zach is about as sexy as OA: they're both handsome, fit Black men, and if Zach doesn't have OA's incredible muscle definition, he does have a better ass. Also, it's a fuckable ass, whereas OA is always trying to convince me to let him fuck me.

[Long aside alert.] I can't decide what to do about OA. He's so hot and so intriguing and so into me that part of me thinks he might be the guy who could make me enjoy bottoming. And we really (really) don't run in the same circles, so I could maybe try bottoming with him and not let anyone else know so that the guys who are attracted to me because I won't even entertain the notion of bottoming might still want to come over and point their heels to the heavens for me. I very much want to avoid diluting my brand. On the other hand, the idea of bottoming leaves me cold. It doesn't repulse me (though, to be honest, I don't especially fancy the notion of all that extra anal hygiene, which nonetheless doesn't really repulse me either), but it doesn't excite me. And I will not be in any way pushed into it, but OA pushes in a very entertaining and non-coercive way. I reckon that if I stay on the fence about the issue (without letting OA know that I'm on the fence; with him, I maintain a demeanor of full-on hell no) for long enough, he'll get bored, and the issue will go away of its own accord. But he seems very much not bored, and since I didn't jump on Saturday as an excuse to ignore him, it's apparent that I, to, am very much not bored. Time will tell, I suppose.

Anyway, Zach is also sex on wheels, and he's versatile but only a bottom when he's with me, and he's got amazing lips and he likes to make out and, well, he likes to have done to him everything I most like to do to a guy, which is why he was soon knocking on the door and we were standing together in the living/dining room kissing ardently and then I was turning him around and pushing him up the stairs, and I know I always say that I push a guy up the stairs, but this time we only got about five steps up because when I reached to pull his jeans far enough down his ass to see some hot trouser cleavage, I just had to had to had to have it, so I stopped him and reached around and undid his belt and bent him forward and grabbed and spread his cheeks and shoved my tongue up against and then into his tight sweet hole. Dude has ass.

But he's got everything else, too, so I only did that for a couple of minutes before pushing him the rest of the way up the stairs and undressing him and tossing him on the bed and starting to kiss those soft, plump lips. Which I did for a long time because Zach normally shows up really, really late, like 2 am late, and here he was at my place around midnight and not in his usual I-really-only-have-forty-five-minutes hurry, but also because his kissing skills are as good as his equipment. I did, of course, move occasionally to the nipples, which are responsive but have obviously never gotten the attention they deserve, and also to his armpits because the truth universally acknowledged that the one place you can give almost any guy a hickey without worrying about detection is in the armpit is even more apt on a man of color.

Anyway, Zach always gets hungry for cock sooner or later, and if it was later than usual this time, he was certainly no less hungry. It was the standard sequence of events. Boy goes down on boy. Boy kisses boy. Boy chews boy's nipples. Boy goes down on boy again while boy eats boy's ass. Never gets old.

Zach's ass deserves poetry, but I won't subject you to that because I can't write decent poetry. Oh what the hell:

There once was a hot guy named Zach

Yeah, not so much. Anyway, Zach's ass is only nearly perfect because when he's going down on me, it's ever so slightly awkward for me to eat his ass at the same time, though I can certainly do it with a couple of pillows to prop my head up, and I certainly did do it for an extended period, and I certainly hope to get the chance to do it again multiple times. But I couldn't help notice [long aside alert!] that earlier in the week when Ridiculously Compatible and I were on our fifth or sixth date (let's just call them that for the moment) and I finally got him to let me eat his ass while I was going down on him, he was a perfect fit. One pillow, which I like regardless, put my head in the perfect position to eat him while he went down on me, and boy howdy was that nice. The thing is that RC still hasn't let me fuck him, and we had a little talk about that this past week, and he says that he's now comfortable enough with me that I can fuck him, or at least he thinks so, but he's worried that it's been so long and then he's worried about doing it at his place because he's afraid he'll be really loud, and he lives in a townhouse where the walls aren't as soundproof as they ought to be. And he's really a very nice and relatively interesting man with nipples that were clearly designed with my mouth in mind, but he has a sort of intermittent sex drive that's very easily dimmed when he's too tired, and OH MY GOD Y'ALL I'M DATING A WOMAN! Which is weird because he's mostly the bearish sort that would be described as masculine if you were going by his looks and mannerisms.

Anyway, I eat Zach's ass for a while longer, and he goes down on me again, and then I put him on his stomach and eat his ass from an entirely comfortable position until he begs me to fuck him, which happens at just about exactly the right time, and I hand him a condom and some lube and tell him to sit on it, and he does, and he tells me, again, how thick it is, and he's having a little trouble with it, so I put him on his side and enter him that way and then I roll him onto his stomach and pound him for a while like that, and finally I put him on his back and bend him into a pretzel so that I can rain thunder down on his prostate, and I fuck him like that until I can't take it any more and he's calling my name and telling me that he wants me to cum and I do. And how.

And I collapse on top of him to catch my breath and then pull out and kiss him and play with his nipples while he plays with himself and then I push a couple of fingers inside him and massage his prostate while he brings himself off, gasping into my mouth because we're still kissing. I let him recover for a couple of minutes and grab a towel and do some cleaning up and we canoodle for a bit and it becomes clear that he's falling asleep and not particularly interested in leaving, and, well, cool!

And then it's 7 am and I haven't gotten out of bed so there's that awkwardness of trying to kiss without zapping anybody with morning breath, which leads mostly to me sucking on his nipples and playing with his cock until he's hard and then he jerks himself off while I work his nipples a little harder, and he cums again and lies there looking fine for a bit before getting up and getting dressed because he's got to get home to the dog and I've got to get dressed and do all those things that I haven't been doing because I've been working working working all the time time time.