tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20807502078004925712024-03-13T17:49:07.271-04:00The Neighbors Will HearTEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.comBlogger582125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-55835535293989413972015-04-21T17:51:00.000-04:002015-04-21T17:51:14.688-04:00ExclusiveSo there was this guy I hooked up with. It was a while ago, like late Summer of 2013, and it was a great romp; he was a half-sub bottom with a great body and great lips, and I had him tied to the bed (he hadn't done that before) and on his stomach, with me grabbing him by the hair and plowing him from behind until I shot a load in him. Then I untied him, and we lay there for a good while, talking, discovering that we had a lot in common. Roughly the same age, same politics, same religion. Both divorced, and he had a daughter the same age as my older daughter. It was an easy conversation, and we agreed that we should get together again sometime soon.<br />
<br />
And then we didn't because stuff. <br />
<br />
Ok, more expositorily, I tried a few times to hook up with him again, and he wasn't available, and then when he was finally going to be available, a relative died, and then he stopped answering my text messages. So I forgot about him for a year. Then I heard from him again, and the same thing happened, except this time, his employer relocated him to New Jersey. <br />
<br />
Anyway, this past December, I heard from him again, and I rolled my eyes a little bit because again? But it was after midnight when he messaged me, and he wanted me to come over to his place and fuck him, so I did, and it was great again, and we got to talking, and he wanted to go on a date with me, and I wanted to go on a date with him, so we decided to go on a date together (we are nothing if not logical).<br />
<br />
Somewhere about two or three months after that, he told me that he loved me, and I responded by giving up fucking other guys. I may also have responded by telling him that I love him -- after all, I do -- but somehow that seems less noteworthy. After all, I've been in love a number of times before, but this is the first time (excepting, of course, my marriage, but exclusivity is pretty much the norm for breeder couples) that I've ever offered to not have sex with other guys.<br />
<br />
And it was something I offered. Spleenless (my guy) was pretty careful, at least in the beginning, to say that he wasn't asking me to give up other men. I wasn't quite so generous with him, but that was because -- after starting off with two very widely spaced hook-ups before we even had a date -- we were hardly having any sex, and he was the limiting factor. My (reasonable, I think) position had been that if I was ready to have sex at any time (which is pretty much always the case) and he was ready to have sex every fourth Tuesday (possibly an exaggeration), then he should really only be having sex with me. <br />
<br />
In any case, Spleenless historically had a very high libido and suddenly found himself without much of one, and I intuited that having me to himself might make him feel more comfortable and, well, hornier. On the one hand, this seemed like a whole lot of effort to me; on the other hand, men who are in love are typically willing to expend some effort. <br />
<br />
My strategy appears to have worked. After a couple of months of low activity, things began to pick up, and then when tax season ended (hooray), we went for a long weekend to Rehoboth, and there was a good quantity of sex, interspersed with lots of long walks with my dog (who is very fond of him) and a bunch of hanging out with some friends. <br />
<br />
Anyway, this whole being-in-love thing is pretty rad, and while we are affectionate in public, we are downright sickening when we're alone, and we are both totally ok with that. I am historically reserved about such things, but I am confident that this relationship has legs. We are ridiculously well suited to and good for each other. <br />
<br />
Still, the exclusivity thing is weird and not entirely comfortable for me. Some part of that, obviously, is that there are now things that I don't get to do. Spleenless has pretty broad tastes and is in no way vanilla; still, there are things that I have enjoyed doing to people that he isn't into and that I don't particularly want to do to someone I want to wake up next to on a regular -- and, eventually, everyday -- basis.<br />
<br />
But the bigger problem is how much I have had to say no to other people. I was always aware that I was a pretty big slut (yay!), but I hadn't realized how many guys were involved. And how hard they are to say no to, even when they aren't trying to make it hard (most of the guys are very gracious about it; many express regret, but they almost all congratulate me). I really don't like telling people no in general, and I don't like saying no to sex in particular, but I've had to say it a lot in the last few weeks.<br />
<br />
(Not saying no really isn't an option. It's become clear that Spleenless really wants me to himself and would be hurt if I strayed. I would do a lot to avoid hurting him. Also, I'm a horrible liar in general, and I would be even worse at it with him, so if I fuck around, I'm going to get busted, probably by myself.) <br />
<br />
The refuseniks typically fall into three categories. There are a few guys that I have told no with not inconsiderable pleasure. These are mostly guys who either aren't very good at sex or are unpleasant people who I had nonetheless fucked in the past either because I didn't know better or because I'd forgotten who they were and that I hadn't enjoyed them earlier. <br />
<br />
Most of the guys fall into a middle category of people who I'd happily fuck again but don't really mind giving up and saying no to. <br />
<br />
But then there are the guys with whom I was friendly, if only on a very limited basis. These tend to be guys who are great in bed and who actually conversed with me for more than a couple of minutes after I'd finished fucking them. Even though I have warm feelings towards these guys, it's clear that the friendliness is predicated on sex: without it, we have no reason to get together. I am most of the way through this last category (I think: it keeps turning out that I've forgotten someone. My memory is not what it once was, and there are a lot of guys to remember.) but there are still a couple of people that I know I'm going to have to disappoint.<br />
<br />
It's hardest for me when the guy in question is a bit of a hard-luck case. The married guys who don't have any other sexual outlet. The guys who have partners who no longer want to have sex with them. There's one guy in particular who I'm dreading having the conversation with. He's super fit, good looking, and great in bed. And he's had a pretty hard life, but he hasn't let it make him in any way bitter. He works nights as an Uber driver, and he spends his days looking after his elderly mother, but when I talk with him he's always cheerful, and we always have a great time together. I'm pretty sure that he'll respond graciously when I tell him the new situation, but damn I hate to disappoint somebody like that. <br />
<br />
But I don't love that guy, and I do love my guy, so I'll do what I need to do. And maybe it'll be temporary. I don't think Spleenless and I are going to be temporary, but it is the way of gay couples to open things up after a while. Spleenless and I have discussed the possibility of that happening at some point in the future, but right now we want to be exclusive, and on the whole, I think that rocks.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-88468763221182290572014-08-11T11:11:00.000-04:002014-08-11T11:11:57.600-04:00LiterallySo I'm in bed with this fit, older, redneck bottom, and fit, older, redneck bottom is one of the 150 or so types that drive me crazy, especially if they're sweet and don't smoke, and he is, and he doesn't, and it's going pretty well because he's got nice soft lips, and he knows how to use them. And I've eaten his ass pretty thoroughly, and I've put three fingers into him because he says it's been a while, and he's sat on my cock and gotten the head in, but then when I turn him over and put him on his stomach, he says that it's too big, and that it hurts too much, even when I try repositioning him on his side, and even when I use plenty of lube, and he's asked me to stop, and now he's starting to say that it's getting late, and he should probably get home to his dogs.<br />
<br />
But I lie next to him, spoonwise, and touch him and kiss his shoulder because I don't want him to leave, and that's not mostly because I haven't cum yet. It's mostly because he drove all the way from Frederick, and there's something sad about him. Not mopey sad, just kind of nice-guy-hard-life sad. Also, he's really sexy, and I like holding on to someone after midnight on a Saturday.<br />
<br />
And he doesn't seem like he really wants to go. It was an impulse, but then he starts talking about stuff, and then talking about stuff generally turns into talking about men who have fucked him, and when he starts to think about all the cock he's had, then he gets really turned on, and before long I've managed to pull him back on top of me, and we're sharing these soft kisses interspersed with tales of cock. <br />
<br />
And then he's telling me that his very first time being fucked happened when he was fourteen, and he got mounted by the neighbors dog. It was, he tells me, a big brown collie who'd been separated from the females, and it started by humping his leg, but then it somehow got into his ass, and when it got into his ass, its cock got much bigger, and he was scared, but he loved it. Some months later, it had happened again.<br />
<br />
And then he tells me that he's never told anyone that story, and I believe this because a) why would you tell anyone that, and b) people are always telling me shit that they won't tell anyone else. And I don't know whether b) is because I listen a lot and listen well or because I'm just not very judgmental. But I recognize that I'm probably supposed to be appalled, and I'm really not. After all, if anybody was violated, it was the guy who's now trying to sit on my cock again. Surely, the collie was not coerced.<br />
<br />
And maybe this is one of those times when I'm expected to say something sensitive or say nothing at all, but the thing that I can't keep myself from saying -- could you? -- is, "So, that collie made you his bitch. Literally."<br />
<br />
And after that he manages to take almost all of my cock and rides me well, but not long, because he cums hard after a minute or two of bouncing on it, and I don't cum, but that just means more for the next guy, and I'm pretty satisfied with all the kissing and the canoodling and the story, and he gets dressed and says he wants to come back soon, and I figure I'll never see him again, and that's too bad, but probably for the best, all things considered.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-35830316696709751212014-05-14T12:31:00.000-04:002014-05-14T12:31:34.218-04:00Small Misunderstandings1. Some well-intentioned soul on the Internet signed up for a significant number of online hookup sites using one of my gmail accounts. The problem is that all of these sites appear to be dedicated to the procurement of opposite-gender action:<br />
<br />
Getanaffair<br />
MatureXMatch<br />
MilfBerry<br />
Saucy Singles<br />
BeDiscreet<br />
IWantU<br />
SugarBBW<br />
ClickandFlirt<br />
Shagaholic<br />
<br />
While I certainly appreciate anyone's efforts to get me laid, I have to say that a) I'm really doing ok without any assistance, and b) women are wonderful creatures, but I don't want to stick my cock in any of them. In fact, if we're taking the I in MILF literally, there are, in fact no mothers that I'd like to fuck.<br />
<br />
Also, some of the many replies I've seen (who knew I was so popular with the ladies) seem a little unclear on the concept. It is certainly possible to be a mother at age 21, and it's certainly possible to be attractive at age 21, but a 21-year-old just doesn't qualify as a MILF. <br />
<br />
2. I took yesterday afternoon off, and I had expected to have a nice long session with a relatively new FWP, but he never got back to me, and then I got a message from someone on line who was both from Virginia and a top. I explained that I am myself a top and that it is not particularly easy to get to me from Woodbridge or Leesburg or wherever, but he said that he wanted to come over, and I liked his pictures, so why not?<br />
<br />
A little over two hours (!) later he showed up at my place, complaining about the traffic, the inadequacy of air conditioning, and the speed with which I began kissing him. After a couple of minutes, I got him calmed down, upstairs, and undressed, but he kept saying, "Suck my cock," as if I were the sort of person who responds well to commands. At the same time, he was showing no interest in my cock and decreasing interest in making out. Also, when I sucked his nipples and played with his cock, he got really close to ejaculation really quickly. After about the third go-round of his telling me to go down on him, I just stroked him a little bit faster, and he came. Spectacularly. With convulsions and a healthy load. I grabbed a towel and wiped him off, and then he quickly got back into his clothes and headed back into traffic, making some sort of vague reference to playing another time, but: as if. He was in the house for no more than ten minutes, and he probably spent at least 3.5 hours on the road. I'm sure he was disappointed, but hey: a) read my profile, b) pay attention to what I tell you when we're chatting online, and c) don't be a cray-zee Northern Virginian. It can't be that hard to find a bj in Leesburg.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-7237617531691852702014-05-07T12:59:00.000-04:002014-05-07T12:59:03.953-04:00Two of ThreeSo it's late last night, and I'm a little tired because earlier that evening my friend with occasional privileges Bob had come by, and because he's decided that his and his boyfriend's (he also has a wife, but she's not really relevant, except as background) relationship is once again open, so we can have sex and hang out in bed instead of going out for dinner and then sitting in his car in my driveway after dinner while he wrestles with his conscience, and we'd had amazing sex/foreplay for a couple of hours before I'd finally had him wrap me up (because one of the ways he's beaten down his conscience is by insisting that we fuck safe) and started fucking him, and I was so worked up when I finally penetrated that I came in about three minutes, which may very well be a personal record, and was in any case a welcome change from the usual half hour of plowing before I either shoot or pretend to shoot or pull out and handle myself until I shoot, and it was all so great that I really should have just rolled over and gone to sleep, but I'd had to get dressed and walk and feed the dog, and then some hot marine started messaging me, so when the "No Caller ID" call came in, I was still awake and decided to answer it because I figured it probably wasn't Alex -- the newb who has promised and then failed to show up so many times (think Lucy with the football here) that now I just say, "Sure, come over" and then either invite someone else or go to sleep and wait for the inevitable apology -- but the unnamed Latino guy who'd come by a couple of weeks ago and then ran out the door after I kissed him a couple of times because "I've never done this before" and "I'm just not comfortable," and, in fact, that's who it turns out to be, and he's trying to schedule a time for us to meet at a motel, and I'm resistant because I have a perfectly good home and bedroom to meet in, but eventually I tell him that -- sure, what the hell -- he can call me on Friday night late if he really wants me to meet him some place, and then I figure I'll just go to sleep, but then he calls me fifteen minutes later and says that he wants to stop by on his way home, and by now it's already after midnight, and he's coming all the way from downtown, but I never was good at saying no, so sure, come on over, and I take the opportunity to fold some clean laundry and sort some dirty laundry and start a load of that dirty laundry and wash my cock again, and before too long, he's calling to say that he's almost there, and then he's here, and I'm kissing him again because that's what I do, and after a minute of kissing, I take him upstairs and toss him on the bed and start kissing his lips and his neck and his nipples and he's begging me to let him at my cock, but I'm going to take a little time with that and then -- and all I'm doing is kissing his neck and fingering his nipple -- he starts to moan loudly and shake and tell me that he's coming, and after he stops shaking, I reach down into his underwear, and sure enough, he's blown a load just from making out, and then he's off to the bathroom, and I'm lying there, still fully clothed and feeling like a total stud because I made this dude cum just by making out with him, and then he's back in my room and he's putting his hoodie back on and he's telling me that "I just can't do this."<br />
<br />
And I'm all, "Dude, you just did."<br />
<br />
A few minutes later guy three (the hot marine) calls me, and ten minutes after that he walks through my door, and we spend most of the next forty-five minutes with him riding my cock while I tweak his nipples before I finally throw him on his back and fuck him deep and hard. After that there's another forty-five minutes of me kissing him and fingering his nips while he jerks himself off. When he leaves, both the sheet and the mattress pad are soaked through with his sweat. Fortunately, I always have clean spares handy for just such occasions.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-17849959191606121552013-09-25T21:54:00.000-04:002013-09-25T21:54:11.676-04:00Rich<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaPlgfRSBZh-Y5lChdc_WaFZHJUZM6R0sJTqWZHbUPs4BGZfqByXBxi-JA2if4eFmdj0BMyBNDQzK24Btq5slTH__3vHFEyF1ff27SXQ4KcKcHhjXR7IHq6LiC_yxgORMqmNBa7VcjVHPY/s1600/9355174304_c0cf9960bf_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaPlgfRSBZh-Y5lChdc_WaFZHJUZM6R0sJTqWZHbUPs4BGZfqByXBxi-JA2if4eFmdj0BMyBNDQzK24Btq5slTH__3vHFEyF1ff27SXQ4KcKcHhjXR7IHq6LiC_yxgORMqmNBa7VcjVHPY/s640/9355174304_c0cf9960bf_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
I am not bothering to change his name because I'm not sure it's his real name. It's the name I've given him in my iPhone, and I presume I had some reason for that, but that reason could have been an alias in an old email. I thought about asking him what his name is last night, but I decided not to. Sometimes it's better to think than to know.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure how long Rich and I have been -- very intermittently -- hooking up. It seems like longer, but most likely, it's been about four years: I think the first time I met him was shortly after I moved here, but it may have been before that. Details blur in the past, and they get blurrier faster as I get older.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I find fucking Rich irresistible, which I really need to do because getting together with him is, well, challenging. There are usually a number of missteps between when he first expresses interest and when we actually get together. And it's sort of typical that on Thursday night he texted me back at 10 (just after I got home from choir practice) to say that he'd be showered and on his way in half an hour, and he didn't actually knock on my door until 12:30. <br />
<br />
Still, since it was so late when he arrived, I didn't have to spend the usual half hour of small talk and questionable diversions (The last time we were together was at his place, and he turned on some lesbian bondage porn. I made him turn it off.) to get him into bed. I just handed him a glass of wine, and we walked up the stairs. I lay on the bed and watched him strip down to his briefs. He's short and solid and beefy with very smooth, very good skin. He is fun to manhandle, and he's surprisingly cuddly. The last time we played, we were in bed just holding and stroking each other, and he put his head on my shoulder and told me how much he liked being held that way and how it was something he didn't get enough of. <br />
<br />
Rich takes a fair amount of warming up before he really gets into making out, so I stroked him and sucked on his nipples while we had a bit of idle chatter, but when I started biting on a nip, he moaned, and I could tell we were on my way. I kept it between my teeth and increased the speed at which I was tonguing it, and I ran my hands down and grabbed his small-but-very-hard cock through his briefs. More moaning, which only got louder when I pulled the back of his briefs partway down to reveal one cheek and spanked it. <br />
<br />
I figured he was warmed up enough, so I rolled him all the way onto his back, got on top of him, grabbed his wrists, pinned them down, and started to kiss him more energetically. There was the expected moment of resistance, and then he gave in and gave back. I was grinding my rock hard cock against his, and I let one wrist go so I could pinch a nipple, and he moaned and writhed beneath me.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjMkIa3zGw_aYN7Skdo4RvMskMXTUF0itEkeKb7FCWcLm6Qz7l_pYHXWQ4MyGSZK7f1Nh0iLE0TQO9IGD4p6efVXecbkZLbPIQi9gFdWg1fQSBZzm3MFlh-OUPS4b8k2PJqpTtJp4eSEV/s1600/9577586429_4626ae0537_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjMkIa3zGw_aYN7Skdo4RvMskMXTUF0itEkeKb7FCWcLm6Qz7l_pYHXWQ4MyGSZK7f1Nh0iLE0TQO9IGD4p6efVXecbkZLbPIQi9gFdWg1fQSBZzm3MFlh-OUPS4b8k2PJqpTtJp4eSEV/s320/9577586429_4626ae0537_o.jpg" width="316" /></a></div>
At first I had no desire to hurry things along, so I rolled off him and onto my side, then I turned him toward me and got him in a bear hug. I didn't squeeze too tightly, though, and he slid his body in closer to mine, maximizing the points of contact. He sighed, both happily and tiredly, and I figured holding him for a few minutes was a good idea -- and hella fun, too. <br />
<br />
But I was also exceptionally horny, (Probably because I'd had lunch with a guy who wants to be my new sub, but who's very nervous and wanted to meet me first; I'd thought lunch seemed like a weird idea, but we ended up in a booth in a dimly lit restaurant, so we could talk openly about what each of us wanted while I kept a hand on his thigh. Afterwards, I let him drive me back to my office, right across the street, so that I could pinch his nips and fondle his very small and hard cock. It was awesome, but when I got back to the office, there was precum in my briefs, and I knew relief was nearly twelve hours away.) so before very long I started putting one hand up the leg opening and then down the waistband of his underwear, and then I just took it off while I kissed him a little more fervently and slapped his ass. <br />
<br />
That worked and got him a little more animated. I chewed on his nips briefly, which got more groans out of him, then I started kissing his neck, and when he began writhing a little, I started to nip his neck. Small, quick bites that got a big response but not hard enough or lasting long enough to leave a mark. I mean, I know what I'm doing. <br />
<br />
I did that and then went back to his nipples, and I began to think he was awfully slow in getting to my cock, so I just said, "Can you suck my cock while I eat your ass?" He excused himself to go to the bathroom, and I wasn't sure whether that was a legitimate need to urinate or just playing for time (with some guys, it's a way to use more substances, so who knows?), but he came back pretty soon, and settled between my legs. Then, he gave a sigh and had a look like, "I guess I have to," and he started to take my cockhead into his mouth. I guess the initial reticence gave way pretty quickly, because he really started to get into it, taking most of the length into his mouth and apparently savoring it. It felt really good, so good that I decided to table for now the eating-his-ass part. I stroked his hair idly while I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation.<br />
<br />
Eventually, he came up for air, and I pulled him around and got between his knees, spread his cheeks, and shoved my tongue right into him. Unsurprisingly, this made him forget my cock, but my cock wasn't going anywhere, and it has been rumored that I love to eat ass, so I went for it. He did eventually start sucking on the cock again. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvw6IV_NcB5wFDzyGyToL6xQ25KsZDTbnT1lvXpOX9gaBFPvuVOi8ohBpT0Z-IE7ecCBJJvDqBd7BLKFqZu9CEOiOUG1zRIjKE4xb0p1D_rQwGV4ifxLkhoNNhSCNyy1rH5cjOYa-z14u_/s1600/9355220874_567e856627_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvw6IV_NcB5wFDzyGyToL6xQ25KsZDTbnT1lvXpOX9gaBFPvuVOi8ohBpT0Z-IE7ecCBJJvDqBd7BLKFqZu9CEOiOUG1zRIjKE4xb0p1D_rQwGV4ifxLkhoNNhSCNyy1rH5cjOYa-z14u_/s320/9355220874_567e856627_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>I was really worked up, so when we both came up for air at the same time, I shoved him off of me and onto his stomach, got behind him, lay on my stomach, and ate his ass for a little longer, then moved forward, bit the back of his neck, and rubbed my cockhead along his ass and against his hole. He made a sound without words but that clearly meant "Give it to me," and I reached over his head, took a pump of lube, rubbed it on my cock, and presssed forward. <br />
<br />
I'll give Rich credit for not being the type to whine at the initial pain of entry. I could tell he felt it, and I wasn't exactly ramming into it, but he took it like a man (also how I gave it), and before long, I was all the way in him, not moving, but staying deep, and continuing to bite various spots on the back of his neck. I started easing out and then easing in, but he clearly wanted it harder, so I sped up and thrusted harder, and bit harder, and he got louder.<br />
<br />
I fucked him for about ten minutes, I reckon, when he asked for a break. I pulled out and lay behind him, with my arms around him, playing with his nipples. After a minute, I turned him toward me and started kissing him hard and deep, sucking on his lower lip and his tongue, in turn. Then I put him on his stomach again, slid into him quickly, and started plowing. <br />
<br />
And that was great, but I didn't think I'd cum that way, and for a variety of reasons, it was going to be more what I wanted if he'd thought I had cum, so I made a lot of noise, stopped thrusting, and lay on top of him as if I were spent. After a minute, I pulled out, put him on his back, and resumed nibbling on his neck while I jerked him off. That took longer than I expected, but in about ten minutes, the moaning had escalated almost to the point of shouting, and he shot. I kept stroking him after he came, and, once again, he didn't complain even though I could tell his cock was getting very sensitive. I stopped, grabbed a towel and wiped him up.<br />
<br />
Rich is a little obsessive about cleanliness, and I knew he'd be heading for the shower almost immediately, my attempts to hold onto him notwithstanding. But that was cool because I was still pretty worked up, so much so that as soon as he got in the bathroom I started stroking, and I blew a big load in plenty of time to join him in the shower. Always a good time. When he got out, he grabbed a towel and swiped the steam off part of the mirror, looked, smiled, and said, "No marks." I reminded him that I knew what I was doing.<br />
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I thought for sure he'd get dressed and run out, but he just climbed under the covers with me and pushed his back up against my chest. I put my arm around him, and he fell asleep pretty quickly.<br />
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So did I, and I have to say it was really sweet. The last time I'd had a guy sleep over had been maybe a week and a half earlier, and it was this top guy that I'd inexplicably started seeing, and it ended up being the last time I saw that guy. Not because of anything I did while he was staying over (more because that guy was just a big jerk and/or we were incompatible -- almost certainly both), but sleeping with that guy hadn't been a particularly pleasant or restful experience. Sleeping with Rich was both.<br />
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Or at least it was for four hours, because at 6:30 I woke up, and when I reached over and reached down, Rich was rock hard, and I started playing with him, and he wasted no time at all in straddling me and sitting on my cock. He was so quick about it that I had to stop him so I could get some lube on my dick. Once I let him get going, he really rode me. I started stroking his cock with one hand and pinching a nip with the other, and he came in just a couple of minutes. Fifteen minutes later, he'd showered again, dressed, and left. I went back to sleep, but I was pretty beat when I got to work at 9:30. <br />
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<br />TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-36456321479257163212013-09-13T16:42:00.002-04:002013-09-16T23:49:04.053-04:00I Know This Much Is True<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You should never believe anything a man tells you.<br />
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There are, of course, exceptions to this dictum, but in general, if you don't know a guy very well indeed, you should assume he might be lying to you. And it's probably obvious, but I'm mostly talking about guys who want to have sex with you. The longer you've known someone, in general, the more you can believe him, but the more he wants to have sex with you, the less. So your old friends who really don't find you all that attractive? Sure, believe them. The new guy who wants your dick? He'll say anything.</div>
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I don't mean to sound cynical here. Most of these lies are harmless and they're either meant to make you feel better or just to spare the teller some level of embarrassment. Don't you spend a lot of time telling people what you think they want to hear? And don't you do it with generally good motives? I do, though, of course, sometimes I'm just trying to get in some guys pants.</div>
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Anyway, the other night I was on my way home from choir practice, and I was in a pretty good mood because the choir director had given me a fat solo in a gospel piece we're doing, and, well, I love that music, and it works really well with my voice. I'd just finished walking the dog when I got a text message from my old exish-friend Sunil. </div>
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I say "exish-friend" because while I have no ill feelings towards him (nor he towards me, I'm sure), there's a little bit of history. Namely, back in the day -- and we're talking maybe eight or nine years ago -- I used to hook up regularly with Sunil, first when I was single, and then when I moved in with b&c. And he was a nice guy and a pretty good lay. And a Desi bearish guy, and, well: woof. I had another fairly regular FWP, Chuck, and Chuck was also a nice guy and a good lay. On the whole, I'd say that Sunil had a better ass, but Chuck's ass was just fine, thanks, and he may have been the best cocksucker in Montgomery County (and, hey, there's a lot of competition for that title, believe me).</div>
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Anyway, one holiday season, b&c and I were having our usual holiday party, and I invited both those guys. They met for the first time at that party, and they really hit it off, and they started dating, and they're still together, all these years later. And I'm truly happy for them, but the immediate effect of their getting together was that I was suddenly down two of my favorite FWPs. Which happens, of course, but I thought (very sensibly, I'm sure you'll agree) that if I was directly responsible for getting them together, then the very least they could do was to include me in a threeway as a gesture of thanks. It's a simple matter of courtesy, right?</div>
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The other problem with Chuck and Sunil was that while they were both nice guys they both turned out to be a whole lot less interesting to me when I wasn't fucking them (go figure), so while b&c and I went out to dinner with them a couple of times and invited them to another party or two, we kind of lost touch, and I figured, well, that happens. And it's not like I couldn't or didn't find other guys to fuck. I may have told you about two or twenty of them right here. </div>
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Every couple of years, though, Sunil would email me and say that he wanted to get together. I'd reply promptly and say that would be great, and then I'd hear nothing more from him. After the second or third time that happened, I figured nothing would ever come of it, but there's not a whole lot of effort associated with sending an email, so it was just a thing that happened and then didn't happen, and I never thought about it.</div>
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About seven months ago, Sunil texted me on my birthday, and he said the same thing, and I said the same thing, and he disappeared again, and I forgot again. And then the other night I got another text from him, but this time I just texted back, "Want to come over?" And he did.</div>
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I had to amend my traditional modus operandi a bit because Sunil wanted to chat for a while, so while I kissed him some when he walked in the door, he pulled away and sat in a one-person chair, and I got him some water, and we got caught up. And, you know, it's amazing how no matter how much has happened to you in the last seven or eight years, when what you really want is to get in a guy's pants, you pretty much act like everything's exactly the way that it was the last time you see him. Even if you're living in a different house, without your former partner, and your kids have almost entirely grown up since the last time you talked to him. </div>
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Anyway, after maybe fifteen minutes of chit chat, he asked if I wanted to go upstairs, and I did, of course. The stairs in my house are very steep -- they wouldn't meet code if they were built today, I reckon -- and that's not always a good thing, but it does mean that if you let a guy get three steps ahead of you, his ass is right at eye level, but not to far away to reach out and grab. Which I did, eliciting a low groan from Sunil, who, I figured might not have had his ass grabbed, eaten, and/or fucked in quite some while. Because if I knew anything for sure when those two got together, it was that Sunil was going to be the top in that relationship.<br />
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As per usual, I was in a bit of a hurry to get him into bed, but once we were there, I was very happy to take my time, thanks. He has big, thick, firm lips, and he loves to kiss, so we did that for a good long while, with my hand alternately navigating his chest hair and going up the leg of or down the back of his shorts to play with his nuts or his ass, respectively. Eventually I started undoing his belt, then his zipper, and then I pulled his shorts down so I could play with his cock, which is small and uncut, the way any cock that isn't mine should be. <br />
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He likes to be kissed and bitten (everywhere except on his left nipple, where some dog years ago apparently preceded me, rendering that one little bit of him overly tender; damned dog), and he shows this pleasure audibly and at a decent volume, another thing that revs me up immensely. So when I wasn't kissing, sucking, or chewing on his lips, I was kissing, sucking, and chewing on his (right) nipple or his neck or his shoulder, and he was groaning and shaking.<br />
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Whenever I would finger his ass, he'd groan and murmur something about how it had been so long, and I figured he just meant that it had been a long time since I'd been in his ass. It wasn't a particular surprise when, after he'd been going down on me for a while, he really started getting loud when I wriggled under his ass and started tonguing it. At the same time I grabbed his right nip in one hand and his cock in the other, rubbing his foreskin up over his drooling cockhead, and he got very animated, causing me to dial back the intensity. I certainly didn't want him cumming before I got a chance to shove my cock into his amazing ass.<br />
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The opportunity came soon enough. I pushed him down on his stomach, lay on top of him, and started chewing on his shoulder. I reached over to grab the Gun Oil off the table behind my bed, took a couple of pumps, and started to slide a couple of fingers into him. He said again how it had been so long, but it wasn't a cautionary "so long": it was more the "so long" of a man getting water in the desert. I put some of the lube on my cock, lined up behind him and started to push the cockhead into him. I knew I'd need to go slow, so I did, letting his ass get used to the head before I started to push the shaft into him.<br />
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But I knew he could take it, and I really wanted to give it to him, so I was buried to the hilt in him before long, and he was really on fire for it. I pulled out slowly until just the tip of the head was in him, then I re-entered with one long, slow, steady push, until I was all the way in him again. He was moaning, and I asked him if he liked it. I got a breathless "yesssss" in reply. I reckoned that was my cue to speed up.<br />
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Normally, I like to rotate through a bunch of positions, but I was really into fucking him from behind while he lay on his stomach, so I just started to increase the thrusting frequency, and he kept moaning more and more loudly. He was so tight that I knew I wouldn't last more than ten minutes, and he seemed legitimately unused to taking cock (despite how much he was clearly loving it), so I just thrusted faster and faster until I could feel the pressure building in my shaft. I was really ramming and twitching then, and I just let fly, continuing to thrust and thrust as I spewed. <br />
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Then I collapsed on top of him, chewing idly on his neck. <br />
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Before long, I recollected myself and turned him on his back, got some more lube, and started to stroke his cock while I chewed his good nip. It didn't take long before he was gushing. <br />
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We lay still for a couple of minutes, then I grabbed a towel and cleaned both of us up. We talked for a while longer, mostly about his problems with his daughter, and I asked him how Chuck was doing. Then, finally, I asked him if the two of them ever did threeways, and he said no and that my fucking him was the first time he'd been with anyone other than Chuck since the two of them got together all those years ago. <br />
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In a way, I was a little bit flattered. But mostly, I just rolled my eyes at what he was saying. You should never believe anything a man tells you.<br />
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TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-77295818233852923862013-09-10T13:51:00.001-04:002013-09-10T13:51:13.990-04:00Inertia; The Italian Job; WTFSo, I was writing this about two or three weeks ago: <br />
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I reckon I have in mind some sort of tortured and overused metaphor with the title of this post, but at least I'm not going to start whining about being inert. Or maybe I am: I guess it depends on the meaning of "inert." I tend to think of things as being inert when they're stuck in one place, but there are two parts of inertia: an object at rest tends to stay at rest, and an object in motion tends to keep on moving in the same path. So if over the past however many years, I've spent lots of time ramping up my sex life to the point where I'm fucking someone practically every day (Except, of course, for the days when YFU is over at my place, but, you know, she's 17, and while we still get along as well as we ever have, she really doesn't care if I head out of the house for a couple of hours, as long as the Internet's working, and I hand her a plate of food before I leave. Besides, if I hang around with her, she's just going to occupy the remote and start watching something on Netflix that I cannot abide [frequently, it's <em>Supernatural</em>, which like most shows of its ilk, I feel would be improved immeasurably if its male leads took the sensible step of wearing Speedos, or perhaps less than that, but until that happens, I just can't], so, truly, everyone's happier if I just step out on those nights. Or maybe take a long lunch and plow some ass before it's time for her to come over.), does having lots and lots of sex mean that I'm inert? Ok, probably not, but it's definitely a form of inertia. <br />
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Of course, you can be hyperactive in some areas and a couch potato in others, which is why my lawn is about two weeks overdue for cutting. I keep meaning to take an evening off and cut the grass (it takes less than half an hour, and the weather's been REMARKABLY un-DC-like this year, so there is some time almost every day that's great for mowing), but then one of my regulars will call or text, and, well, I am not a girl, but if I were a girl, I'd be just a girl who can't say no.<br />
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And, hey, it's not like I have sex every day. Back in July, I took the girls on vacation up to Harpswell, Maine, and what with travel days, there were nine straight days where I didn't fuck anybody. And we had a terrific time. (Though, to be honest, it would probably have been an even better time if I'd managed a tryst somewhere in the middle there. The problem is that the way the geography is up in Harpswell, someone who Grindr or Scruff says is five miles away is likely forty-five minutes off by car. And most of the people who are even that close are other vacationers who are there with their wives or partners, so they can't host. But like I said, the vacation was fantastic.) It was my last chance to spend an extended amount of time with EFU before she headed off to Bolivia to teach elementary school. <br />
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When we got home from vacation, I'd taken the sensible precaution of taking an extra day off of work, so that left me with most of Sunday and all of Monday to make up for lost time. Which meant that on Tuesday when I finally returned to work, I was both very tired and very happy. <br />
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And then a little later, I was writing this:<br />
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His name is Bruno. If you met him and didn't know him, you'd think right away that his name should be Bruno. Italian, fit, hairy, masculine, and a man of few words. But plenty of action. Bruno says a lot more to me via text message than he ever says when he gets to my house, because when he gets to my house, I grab him and shove my tongue in his mouth. Sure, I do that with every guy who comes over, but with Bruno, there's a sense of urgency. With other guys, I have chemistry; with Bruno, I have physics.<br />
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Bruno's married, and he has a daughter about the same age as my younger daughter, a fact I learned the second or third time he came over, before I realized that he has no real interest in talking to me. It's not that he doesn't like me, it's just that he's so horny whenever he comes by. For all his masculinity and wordlessness, he loves making out and we always enjoy a goodbye snog, something most married men go out of their way to avoid when they're done getting fucked.<br />
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Bruno doesn't get fucked much, as it happens. He says once or twice before he met me, and that's not hard to believe because Bruno loves loves loves to suck cock, and he's damned good at it. But I love love love to eat and fuck ass, and Bruno's coming around to seeing things my way, and he's learning to love love love riding my rod, provided I let him suck it for a while first. Which I am only too happy to do, naturally.<br />
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I kind of love sucking him off, too. He's got a nice cock, a little shorter than average, but I prefer them that way, especially if they're uncut, and Bruno's got more than his share of foreskin. If I shove my tongue in between it and his cockhead -- especially while I'm fingering his prostate -- he'll cum pretty quickly. He usually tries to stop me, and sometimes I let him.<br />
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But they're never long sessions. He's only ever free during the day, so I have to come home from the office, and he's always later than he says he'll be, so he's only in the house for half a hour. Of course, you can do a lot in half an hour. Especially when you've got physics.<br />
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The last time he was over, he walked in, and I grabbed him and we were kissing each other like our lust was the only thing keeping the world together, and I don't even know how we managed to get our shirts off over our heads the way our mouths were crushed together, but we did, and I had his pants down, and I was grabbing his cock and running my hand over his fur and twisting his nipple, and then he was on his knees inhaling my dick, and finally I got enough spare room in my brain to realize I needed to move this upstairs, so I let him get four stairs up before I shoved him down and spread his cheeks and rammed my tongue into him while I fondled his nuts. And I never wanted to stop doing that, but even more than I didn't want to stop doing that, I wanted to start fucking him, so I pushed him the rest of the way upstairs, and when he got to the bed, I pushed his shoulders down so he was bent over, and I stepped up behind him and put my cockhead up against his asshole and leaned in slowly, shoving it up his ass. And he's really tight, but I was still wet, and his ass was nice and wet, and some forces will not be denied.<br />
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I don't remember exactly how long I fucked him, but it was a triumph of the will when I stopped short of losing my load and pulled out and tossed him on the bed, got between his legs, swallowed his cock, and put two fingers against his prostate. This time I didn't let him stop me. He doesn't cum a lot, but he cums very loudly. <br />
<br />
I was so worked up, and I figured he was spent, so I lay next to him and started stroking myself. It only took a few seconds before he started kissing me, then he got up and took over the stroking. I can almost never get off that way, but I was pretty worked up, and when he let a string of saliva fall on my cock, his fist pushed me to ejaculation almost immediately. I don't cum loudly, but I cum lots. Lots. <br />
<br />
As per usual, once we've cum, Bruno heads to the bathroom for approximately twenty seconds, then he's got his clothes on in another twenty, and then it's "That was hot," (polite lad) and then he's out the door. Interestingly, for all that I get maybe fifteen words from him while he's at my house, his text messages are complete sentences, full of passion and longing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And then -- how does this even happen? -- I started dating this guy, and suddenly it's like I'm hardly having sex with anybody. I met this guy on Squirt, of all places, and his profile made it very, very clear that he's a top, and when he messaged me to see if we could play, I said, "You did read the profile, right? I am not a bottom." And he said, sure, but he sounded pretty cool, so I said, WTF, come on over.<br />
<br />
And it was totally disarming. He was just not having any of my moves, and he wanted to talk some, and he was entirely charming, and without much kissing or pulling of nipples or anything, somehow we were up in my bed, naked, just touching each other. It was indescribably nice. Not so much hot, really, at least not for me, and I was so shocked by the whole turn of events that I wasn't even hard, but really nice. He was amazed that I was willing to sit there and touch him and let him touch me even though I wasn't hard, and he somehow thought that was the neatest thing ever that I was so unguarded with him. But, really, I mean, there's a guy in my bed, touching me, and I'm not hard, so am I supposed to freak out or get defensive? No, I'm just going to go with it and enjoy it. Apparently, this is not a common reaction to the situation, or so he says.<br />
<br />
The whole thing was incredibly intimate. And not the sort of surrogate intimacy that you get when you hook up. I don't mean to deny the sort of transactional/transitory intimacy of anonymous and near-anonymous sex. Because there's something really special about two guys who are both into it going at it like a couple of crazed squirrels. But this seemed like something more than that. Maybe it's because some of the blood that usually goes right to my rod was hanging around in my brain. <br />
<br />
In any case, he said that he wanted to do that again, and I was all, "Uh huh." Because, well come on: Squirt? Not exactly the place where you go to find dates. And I have a firm policy of never believing anything a guy says to me during or after a hookup. It's not so much that guys lie (though they do, often and egregiously), but guys mean one thing when they're basking in the afterglow or the pleasure of mutual nudity, and then they often think better of it once their clothes are back on and they're out the door.<br />
<br />
And, indeed, when I texted that guy a couple of days later to say that I'd like to see him again, he didn't reply, and I figured it was par for the course. But then a week or a little more later, I saw him on Squirt again, and I said hi, and he asked if he could see me again and invited me over, and I went over, and it was all very much more of the same. Except this time I was erect, and he seemed to like that even better, though not enough to, say, go down on me or anything. <br />
<br />
And this has been going on for maybe a month now, and it's all very weird to me. Because there's very little that resembles what I'd call actual sex, though he did spend the night on Sunday, and I was stroking his cock and kissing him in various places after a long session during which I'd blindfolded him, tied him to the bed, and eaten his ass (which, even though he's fifty, no one before me had ever done to him), and he had just told me, before I grabbed his cock that time, that it takes sooooo much to get him to cum, but in fact not long after I started stroking and kissing him, he shuddered, swore, and came, in a way that was neither voluminous nor loud (alas). But that's the only semen that's been spilled in the six or seven times that we've been together. <br />
<br />
But I am still a long, long way from fucking this guy, and I am adamant that he is not fucking me until I've fucked him. And that's not just me being a jerk or stubborn (mostly), it's really a matter of self-preservation. I'm not entirely averse to the idea of being versatile with this guy. I have been exclusively a top for a long, long time now (I believe the last time I got fucked was in 2002, when I hadn't been out all that long), but I have often thought that if I met Mr. Right and Mr. Right was versatile, I would learn to take it up the ass and maybe even enjoy it. But I'm really not interested in casual bottoming. I'm sure it's something I could learn to do, but I don't want to. And I know this sounds horribly crass and/or humorous, but seriously: if I start being vers, it dilutes my brand. There are any number of DC-area bottoms who would lose interest in me if I stopped being a dedicated top. As it is, there are guys who won't let me fuck them because I occasionally like to suck cock. So if I'm going to give all that up, I'm going to need a damned good reason.<br />
<br />
And I'm not sure this guy is ever going to get there. There are many, many things that I like (a lot) about this guy, but he has the real sense of sexual entitlement that comes from being a successful DC-area professional with a massive cock. It's long and it's thick, and it's pretty clear that for years now (he says he was last fucked in 2005, after he divorced his wife, but before he married (and then divorced) his husband.<br />
<br />
[Shout out to one of my readers who emailed me with the thing I love most to hear (i.e., that he jerks off to my blog posts) and who asked whether any of the dick pics here are of me. I would never put any picture of me on this blog (not that I'm not grateful to guys who do: you go!), and I don't really think my cock is all that, but I'll give you some info on it in the context that this guy I'm dating is much larger. So my cock will get to 7" long if I'm really really worked up, but more typically when it's hard it only gets to about 6.5. The reason that the bottoms like it is that the circumference is six inches, which would be thick in any case, but mine is wider than usual because if you took a cross section of my shaft (and please don't: I'm using it), it would be much more of an oval than a circle. So if I've got a guy on his back or on his stomach, when I get about an inch in (because I really don't have a mushroom head to speak of: my cock is shaped like a torpedo that's been somewhat flattened; now there's an attractive image), it really stretches his ass. Now you know.]<br />
<br />
See now, I'm a top, but I work at it. I kiss like a pro. I get into lots and lots of foreplay. I eat ass like one of those guys on "Out of the Wild" who's seeing his first meal in three days. I'm not the greatest cocksucker in the world, but I've learned to be okay at it and to weave it in and enjoy it. And I always try to make sure my partner gets an equal (if different) measure of pleasure. I'm really not entitled (sexually, I mean: I'm a white American male, so in more standard ways, I'm positively dripping with entitlement). The new guy has never rimmed a guy, kisses passably but doesn't get into just making out, and has no real interest in sucking cock (though, to be fair, he says he likes my cock a whole lot, and he kinda sorta licks at it while he's playing with it -- sometimes). He's clearly been able to get by on charm (which he has waaaaay too much of) and his massive dick. And, trust me, in this area there are lots of guys who would totally forgo the charm (and everything else) just to ride that big dick. But I am not one of them.<br />
<br />
And the other thing is, when this guy told me that some day he'd fuck me and I'd love it, and when he agreed that it was only fair that he wait until he was willing to also get fucked, I started thinking about it, and I made some online purchases, and I'm going to practice with lube and toys and get loosened up in case it ever gets to that point. Because this guy does NOT have what you'd consider a starter dick. It's a cock for experts. Of course, my cock's pretty thick, too, and I've fucked my share of virgins who have really enjoyed it, but of course, I was all about the preparation. When I've been with this guy, and I've eaten his ass for as long as he'll let me (which is really not that long, except for that one time he was tied to my bed) and then put a wet finger a little way up his ass, he's usually responded by trying to take a dry finger and push it into my ass, which is also dry. And, oh come on, dude. I know there are bottoms out there literally and figuratively salivating for that monster rod, but seriously? Think about it. Some form of lubrication is going to be required if you really want this to be something you enjoy. <br />
<br />
And he doesn't like admitting it, but he does enjoy what I do to his ass. Unfortunately, he's got some really big mental/emotional block about giving over control (which, hey, I totally sympathize with), and I'm not sure I'll ever be able to overcome that, no matter how much this guy likes me. And he does seem to legitimately like me a whole lot, at least when he's with me. He's got the other problems that go along with being a successful and driven DC-area professional, mostly meaning that if I don't find some way to get my name on his Outlook reminders, he probably doesn't think about me if I don't call or text him, and I kind of have to fight for his time. Which is mildly annoying, but a) not really surprising around here, and b) not entirely his fault.<br />
<br />
Anyway, probable sexual incompatibilities aside (other than that, Mrs. Kennedy, how did you like Dallas?), this guy's pretty awesome, and I would really like this to work out, and maybe it will, but I'm not assigning a high probability to a great outcome. He is very sweet when we're together, and after like our fourth horizontal naked session, he asked me if I wanted to be his boyfriend. Which is kind of weird, but I guess he's very efficient with his use of time. So I asked what that would entail, and basically at this point it would only entail that I not date other guys. Meaning that I can still fuck other guys as long as I'm not trying to develop some sort of emotional relationship with them. And, hell, why not? I hate dating, anyway, so if I have a nominal bf, then I just won't do something I was doing hardly any of.<br />
<br />
The bad thing was that all this warmth and sweetness and intimacy (and, yeah, I know I put all the difficulties up front: life is complicated) is that it's made me somewhat less likely to look for hookups, and what was happening every day is happening a lot less the last couple of weeks. And that's bad because a) it gives me too much time to think about how little time this guy has free in his schedule, and b) sometimes (like most of the time), I just want to pin someone down on the bed and shove my cock into his ass over and over again until we're both spent and satisfied.<br />
<br />
So, I'm just going to do more of that while I see how things play out with the guy. He shouldn't mind, and if he does mind, then he's not being fair. And, hey, if he wants me not to fuck other guys, then he can do that pretty simply by letting me fuck him. I will even reciprocate.<br />
<br />
<br />
So now you're up to date. Back to normal tales of sluttishness (and pics) soon, I reckon.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-33890686906616742322013-04-22T14:24:00.000-04:002013-04-22T14:24:02.657-04:00Tax Day TrifectaWhy 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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
But then I got a chat message from this guy who's been saying since 2009 that he wants to be my slave.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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?<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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? <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-56474659638335490522013-03-06T14:43:00.000-05:002013-03-06T14:43:13.527-05:00Back 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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Ah, youth.<br />
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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." <br />
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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.<br />
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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.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-50616501463941602672012-05-21T00:04:00.000-04:002012-05-21T00:04:16.621-04:00The Annual TED Sluts Around Manhattan Post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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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:<br />
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1. Peruvian Medical Coder<br />
2. Cypriot Something or Other<br />
3. American Producer<br />
4. Colombian Chef<br />
5. Italian Chemical Engineer<br />
6. French Endowment Manager<br />
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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. <br />
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On the other hand, let's try. We'll start by re-ranking the guys in order of my enjoyment of them:<br />
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1. French Endowment Manager<br />
2. Colombian Chef<br />
3. Italian Chemical Engineer<br />
4. Cypriot Something or Other<br />
5. Peruvian Medical Coder<br />
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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."<br />
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Wait, were we dating?<br />
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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.<br />
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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. <br />
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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.<br />
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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. <br />
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<br />TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-15358892169203559552012-03-06T12:34:00.000-05:002012-03-07T00:35:20.688-05:00EMA<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FdvGLWHvSFZ4cFsnEgAi5YD9vN6oiy55GgaCI77irnvcsTINOHKvg3p3DdGqH7TBHNJAdawj5BO1cIjMyg8dBYEmndljcFED8Osshj0pSbLIJ2QwXY59yLRS5x1cAIT3vL2qZZNVvVA6/s1600/3088464646_72dfdced92_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FdvGLWHvSFZ4cFsnEgAi5YD9vN6oiy55GgaCI77irnvcsTINOHKvg3p3DdGqH7TBHNJAdawj5BO1cIjMyg8dBYEmndljcFED8Osshj0pSbLIJ2QwXY59yLRS5x1cAIT3vL2qZZNVvVA6/s400/3088464646_72dfdced92_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717017760731262098" /></a><br /><br />Yes, we love acronyms at <i>The Neighbors Will Hear</i>. 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdohrALiFJp7TtprSzKRUk6psyCGDk1RFl9VyM_vgpK8s4kwKc5BK7RykQghTlWAG_Y0bLnxFky1gaLauK6F_yIgrSGCzxU5NdEpE1qgOHOKrHn1utJiq-aWIJ5YxmUx4YBJED9Ufso6o/s1600/3162873353_4b82b9a379_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdohrALiFJp7TtprSzKRUk6psyCGDk1RFl9VyM_vgpK8s4kwKc5BK7RykQghTlWAG_Y0bLnxFky1gaLauK6F_yIgrSGCzxU5NdEpE1qgOHOKrHn1utJiq-aWIJ5YxmUx4YBJED9Ufso6o/s400/3162873353_4b82b9a379_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717017741986266850" /></a>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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsCIdqPEXemLzCj1C0zBqr74E_-9iwvqr5TfV27Kg__9hdWhyphenhyphenXnZteAJ7mYAZfURxse1DorVMUhqr6i4cHfg13SPqq0nB_Tn_Zcxj-8NZ_pS93O7yI0DsaoGtB6wwXehoLzAnMp2Wpxe7/s1600/3406425268_fe7b26b053_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsCIdqPEXemLzCj1C0zBqr74E_-9iwvqr5TfV27Kg__9hdWhyphenhyphenXnZteAJ7mYAZfURxse1DorVMUhqr6i4cHfg13SPqq0nB_Tn_Zcxj-8NZ_pS93O7yI0DsaoGtB6wwXehoLzAnMp2Wpxe7/s400/3406425268_fe7b26b053_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717017737340616930" /></a><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqk60W_3PVrGxwI8OIiZhZUa624QYgzkFLdO6rUDhFOyxdDXAA3GybwJstMzpzyvvNPpH63VVhZleUPnyhcTMnhYvLL-NodtU28PdPQvfWefPGBJrzYd_3aZMnJBiBiTmaGVUA8WYBruZI/s1600/3709052100_67d07cf717_o.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqk60W_3PVrGxwI8OIiZhZUa624QYgzkFLdO6rUDhFOyxdDXAA3GybwJstMzpzyvvNPpH63VVhZleUPnyhcTMnhYvLL-NodtU28PdPQvfWefPGBJrzYd_3aZMnJBiBiTmaGVUA8WYBruZI/s400/3709052100_67d07cf717_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717017729258128114" /></a>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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <a href="http://www.fitbit.com/home">Fitbit</a> to an appropriate body part during sex. The mind boggles.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1MYnx4Wf814tl-P65VzsAHEFq-HH7BnF0Sqs1DbRBOh6xSWbSwllFDBAYUWdwZ8RhZ-SZEWiyn6NdBEF5gYuxFjQbirfaoJMQDvGxoVyH7ks-DIL72IybYTxs9QTa_wFdTmBj30bYFxiH/s1600/3623211039_9169622f3c_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1MYnx4Wf814tl-P65VzsAHEFq-HH7BnF0Sqs1DbRBOh6xSWbSwllFDBAYUWdwZ8RhZ-SZEWiyn6NdBEF5gYuxFjQbirfaoJMQDvGxoVyH7ks-DIL72IybYTxs9QTa_wFdTmBj30bYFxiH/s400/3623211039_9169622f3c_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717017771566690210" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-29645879443573361042012-02-01T05:02:00.000-05:002012-02-01T12:42:29.163-05:00In Which TED Answers Your Question<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbU9GWPCCZ7ZLzq9K5o82ncZssgpUkNZU1fk7u7yaYE6GGeRRj5a6BSyktNG3rh8epPNL9R6uSMm9JLsLDrDAp2SBDFiw9ZgKPZpEZyWnZk0oVYsJKdyero7qBOTIDB091sPxwcDJkexp/s1600/4460832123_37d2161c89_o.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 151px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbU9GWPCCZ7ZLzq9K5o82ncZssgpUkNZU1fk7u7yaYE6GGeRRj5a6BSyktNG3rh8epPNL9R6uSMm9JLsLDrDAp2SBDFiw9ZgKPZpEZyWnZk0oVYsJKdyero7qBOTIDB091sPxwcDJkexp/s400/4460832123_37d2161c89_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704043076590685154" /></a><br />A comment from my last post:<br /><blockquote>Anonymous said... <br />Do Asian guys normally have smaller cocks? </blockquote><br /><br />As it happens, I'd like to answer that question.<br /><br /><blockquote>Dear Anonymous,<br /><br />Yes.<br /><br />Love,<br />TED</blockquote><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJDcfK-JFbu_jMDDHoXrTfP-8J5fCrJQywkutjkMgO6AWx13uZczKZDZVYCEc8ba1QsmRuqM5KxCukAkBqtBTs3R14zc9j2hsSuEc4SFS9YmRNTRDCcAsVlKnixRCILEe7oiPHqPQi_SP/s1600/5513203129_c7d1a215b1_z.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJDcfK-JFbu_jMDDHoXrTfP-8J5fCrJQywkutjkMgO6AWx13uZczKZDZVYCEc8ba1QsmRuqM5KxCukAkBqtBTs3R14zc9j2hsSuEc4SFS9YmRNTRDCcAsVlKnixRCILEe7oiPHqPQi_SP/s400/5513203129_c7d1a215b1_z.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704042982709478562" /></a><br />Unsurprisingly, however, I have more to say about it than that. First, let me start off by pointing you to <a href="http://www.targetmap.com/viewer.aspx?reportId=3073">this map</a>. 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. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vBq-ikYvwy06snqB5OuAhFqho80kc1Bjkmunr17daaqF41iwqUetOj6eQLqzHyrSUEAIZsQxRsxGuefLebl1eRYTtxJEN1RLqes-OkHaluRQ53KBG1SbKkganClYBpnGGdsZwvnmhC-O/s1600/5754871164_20b6db4634_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vBq-ikYvwy06snqB5OuAhFqho80kc1Bjkmunr17daaqF41iwqUetOj6eQLqzHyrSUEAIZsQxRsxGuefLebl1eRYTtxJEN1RLqes-OkHaluRQ53KBG1SbKkganClYBpnGGdsZwvnmhC-O/s400/5754871164_20b6db4634_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704042977524931010" /></a><br />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.)<br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7mVD40P27LLnSnd3VQ3hNbSTfCVMxaIS55_ri7Mmnc5enCGm9a9YLGvjEOch-L3CDtE_o2IqGZ8iGxaugzDyjH-VK9Rj4hKtm_9FLR4k8QMPIfKWMR3cvxCoZ67yFIHz5ShjCwllXOyOf/s1600/5891095745_c63ebe4d9a_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7mVD40P27LLnSnd3VQ3hNbSTfCVMxaIS55_ri7Mmnc5enCGm9a9YLGvjEOch-L3CDtE_o2IqGZ8iGxaugzDyjH-VK9Rj4hKtm_9FLR4k8QMPIfKWMR3cvxCoZ67yFIHz5ShjCwllXOyOf/s400/5891095745_c63ebe4d9a_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704042960348412130" /></a><br />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. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlL8TcM-hAKw6PLzJGH7lqNcshWZCf_EEOyoAa6UoHuN4_qX5TuCOp0nMkdLL12Buus7R33Oz0JdRg5brFRFWk72wHlJXsZrNfh2OmmdIl4A62eSqSs0cn1fU1hIO3JxXgMng85LKpkkq/s1600/5797528285_fe69bcb419_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlL8TcM-hAKw6PLzJGH7lqNcshWZCf_EEOyoAa6UoHuN4_qX5TuCOp0nMkdLL12Buus7R33Oz0JdRg5brFRFWk72wHlJXsZrNfh2OmmdIl4A62eSqSs0cn1fU1hIO3JxXgMng85LKpkkq/s400/5797528285_fe69bcb419_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704042957482104642" /></a><br />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.]<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZakkNRT8T-EKX2xJkNicBX7R_ftNMRFsz5YGTUWSGukM4YTmOFaOMnmV9-V3M6bI_3J0xynlhOURH-KSnGCGozjnhahR089AVYWyOWebX7YGZjov2uOehMEe3EuaiVP6_NHQcq1wDt-e/s1600/avgraph.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZakkNRT8T-EKX2xJkNicBX7R_ftNMRFsz5YGTUWSGukM4YTmOFaOMnmV9-V3M6bI_3J0xynlhOURH-KSnGCGozjnhahR089AVYWyOWebX7YGZjov2uOehMEe3EuaiVP6_NHQcq1wDt-e/s400/avgraph.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704191905098940194" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyTDglFMQBsWhK8k-mBxhRHI_71WtX8BqvWE_GEtcRRWdDj-KSw9_Y77f9Xlm2LaiBZtbXnTMDYC7Hw6sTG0Qg5h_jFUMYNCtxpw4_sqg0KogM8ugIyuPSRTnnVvly6vWtUPuoTrPOgPqx/s1600/5511761336_7a29925ca8_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyTDglFMQBsWhK8k-mBxhRHI_71WtX8BqvWE_GEtcRRWdDj-KSw9_Y77f9Xlm2LaiBZtbXnTMDYC7Hw6sTG0Qg5h_jFUMYNCtxpw4_sqg0KogM8ugIyuPSRTnnVvly6vWtUPuoTrPOgPqx/s400/5511761336_7a29925ca8_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704043070862691202" /></a><br />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. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6uCGG071QH7xmGkJaZnql4hERfqgKM7XwrWMcPv7OQgSfVq_7uPclUoMEn_f3ebRadS8rJDo46ElOofmhGLMOGoGWYH9uQs8ekWKSrfTQkQiVRDVdQCOdZ2IxSYjRee6sbli8fz208acs/s1600/5995715579_6fe90ca610_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6uCGG071QH7xmGkJaZnql4hERfqgKM7XwrWMcPv7OQgSfVq_7uPclUoMEn_f3ebRadS8rJDo46ElOofmhGLMOGoGWYH9uQs8ekWKSrfTQkQiVRDVdQCOdZ2IxSYjRee6sbli8fz208acs/s400/5995715579_6fe90ca610_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704042954877645186" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-4961840584590392632012-01-23T07:58:00.001-05:002012-01-25T00:15:30.264-05:00Break-Up Sex<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7RCrTJ6gCl5CJ6FGyH0SEn1N2mhNzXaQhD_oInLoc1ci4cjo6L24wHT7NyS7K88Z4aRMtWjuWfxjqMXm_-e3g_cb2ZH8b4e7k3LBXasHqhp_BpKakxqvB9cPQoXLmWjzuUuIAfbVKoTZ/s1600/6756024999_52503b5e02_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7RCrTJ6gCl5CJ6FGyH0SEn1N2mhNzXaQhD_oInLoc1ci4cjo6L24wHT7NyS7K88Z4aRMtWjuWfxjqMXm_-e3g_cb2ZH8b4e7k3LBXasHqhp_BpKakxqvB9cPQoXLmWjzuUuIAfbVKoTZ/s400/6756024999_52503b5e02_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701433433703735666" /></a><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIp6EFC4KrevfK2l4HZRlhRV5EYY9hCXYEkItGHVgAhP6RMEjzS9X3gjcXFAxHT_qBoy73wPPVXx35d252sYt6eQU5ik1F3ytNzvzX4bA3E46OvwN8Abk0d70j94brJPY27ZhKP7sshQAA/s1600/6756017615_4323bb045a_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIp6EFC4KrevfK2l4HZRlhRV5EYY9hCXYEkItGHVgAhP6RMEjzS9X3gjcXFAxHT_qBoy73wPPVXx35d252sYt6eQU5ik1F3ytNzvzX4bA3E46OvwN8Abk0d70j94brJPY27ZhKP7sshQAA/s400/6756017615_4323bb045a_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701433427272479890" /></a><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzpjlI8JeajEtlalDwNHgR5JmgZxOkliySU11CvplemrdpA64IKxdnPEvYAwAo-GUw8UsEB3xNgOGBxm6lzgF3lh9-PGS0LZQpnBJ_SpD9LyrzrfOY7O9ndd6NLv7zvowzezHbzEhTC8iX/s1600/6756013679_2834e8eea5_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzpjlI8JeajEtlalDwNHgR5JmgZxOkliySU11CvplemrdpA64IKxdnPEvYAwAo-GUw8UsEB3xNgOGBxm6lzgF3lh9-PGS0LZQpnBJ_SpD9LyrzrfOY7O9ndd6NLv7zvowzezHbzEhTC8iX/s400/6756013679_2834e8eea5_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701433409824705794" /></a><br />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.<br /><br />And it did.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN6S9sJxnkw2Yzqt3GL9JSVURNCzDYuxrBBYooFaNVT401cyIJYpaOcz7kh6DuZx4ac1eSsvr2YS-pi12dqgoJH6YTPS4idTj2Au36mv9tbkD1BW7rv3vXHA894Jn0_bMuo2p_rGZhgZMs/s1600/6750061087_be0c4e6f67_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN6S9sJxnkw2Yzqt3GL9JSVURNCzDYuxrBBYooFaNVT401cyIJYpaOcz7kh6DuZx4ac1eSsvr2YS-pi12dqgoJH6YTPS4idTj2Au36mv9tbkD1BW7rv3vXHA894Jn0_bMuo2p_rGZhgZMs/s400/6750061087_be0c4e6f67_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701433410668161554" /></a><br />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. <br /><br />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?<br /><br />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 <i>still</i> haven't had any ice cream.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhon1UsmyZTNCOh1gcWrrW_2e_6pRne2ZDmKtdGamA10JkF_g17pjW34MFpCxoDy0GsOLsDy6H0a6_Z7wK7HU3tIC4-bfKlp8c6SaPzWQ17ZNnD1xnSMtX2hY-6dQI8JpBMlb595RnKcSrn/s1600/6750060839_6fb5d6e262_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 370px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhon1UsmyZTNCOh1gcWrrW_2e_6pRne2ZDmKtdGamA10JkF_g17pjW34MFpCxoDy0GsOLsDy6H0a6_Z7wK7HU3tIC4-bfKlp8c6SaPzWQ17ZNnD1xnSMtX2hY-6dQI8JpBMlb595RnKcSrn/s400/6750060839_6fb5d6e262_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701433403606923010" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-87989074200031571782011-11-13T14:33:00.000-05:002011-11-14T01:42:46.742-05:00Bits and Bobs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrSAQQ8ZgBIrjPYbJVmDEw420KlGi6JXyJeetDtMT2gZEHvggC1MIa_6uhSgJDHxiLUlJXOTKbgEQ4yjNqCPWQtBHAyH4OCdKqv3by9yqQRN1vt_mV0uhe7pqd8EP-GPYdbsdD1R18NjZ/s1600/fa1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrSAQQ8ZgBIrjPYbJVmDEw420KlGi6JXyJeetDtMT2gZEHvggC1MIa_6uhSgJDHxiLUlJXOTKbgEQ4yjNqCPWQtBHAyH4OCdKqv3by9yqQRN1vt_mV0uhe7pqd8EP-GPYdbsdD1R18NjZ/s400/fa1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674380392947106050" /></a><br />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. <br /><br />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 <i>Guide Michelin</i> 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 <i>Ladies Home Journal</i> on the bed stand was also a clue.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRUK6jq06__XdCTphHaqYOusjHqmFSF7OrTjF4ldzfQ-7c2NDXV9VoYnc2pl5Zqh_isUkDt_uf0HT17aCagDfSa0WxzDTS60VmW4TMJNkVs3IEo-Yo3P5H1DsnxTsCUi-1oEH_oM8SBWs/s1600/fa2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRUK6jq06__XdCTphHaqYOusjHqmFSF7OrTjF4ldzfQ-7c2NDXV9VoYnc2pl5Zqh_isUkDt_uf0HT17aCagDfSa0WxzDTS60VmW4TMJNkVs3IEo-Yo3P5H1DsnxTsCUi-1oEH_oM8SBWs/s400/fa2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674380387961089218" /></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgAyjQiL0Ba79s3v7e-PS4Z2nQAiXLoi_lQ0qcSQvxDUrKG_u5PeLVwa5PDjYqPoTtfqW7X5_lQapPcaEb3THR1okWrOH0Dja22Vt6bV0GiEkJFpDPn93suH6yPwW_hJx4foEPfHA5GO7N/s1600/fa3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgAyjQiL0Ba79s3v7e-PS4Z2nQAiXLoi_lQ0qcSQvxDUrKG_u5PeLVwa5PDjYqPoTtfqW7X5_lQapPcaEb3THR1okWrOH0Dja22Vt6bV0GiEkJFpDPn93suH6yPwW_hJx4foEPfHA5GO7N/s400/fa3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674380377973654546" /></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LcrzB0HJRqJCnZnHm5u3tCVegudjH90gZGha71daJRriQkUBVmY3KzF1bKXY9IN0xNXc0pj2ETBvHt2wXyYBcYfxGyLdtWVwIxtc0XPCIJ2VQV5SXniaQrr1n_tgsitd048_FngjEUa9/s1600/fa4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LcrzB0HJRqJCnZnHm5u3tCVegudjH90gZGha71daJRriQkUBVmY3KzF1bKXY9IN0xNXc0pj2ETBvHt2wXyYBcYfxGyLdtWVwIxtc0XPCIJ2VQV5SXniaQrr1n_tgsitd048_FngjEUa9/s400/fa4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674380363465176146" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixiFXly1y4jIqD1g-MLhkpxsIIRMrhfNtvEzDn20jML_4rj-iSbfxjYUcQQirvh-7Ys390mzFZuKL0d6ruCLK10IMxq_7BJyg6suMcNS6xZkg1Se9LIHN-P5nTg1MewqEDdRBqO23Wg6Wf/s1600/fa5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixiFXly1y4jIqD1g-MLhkpxsIIRMrhfNtvEzDn20jML_4rj-iSbfxjYUcQQirvh-7Ys390mzFZuKL0d6ruCLK10IMxq_7BJyg6suMcNS6xZkg1Se9LIHN-P5nTg1MewqEDdRBqO23Wg6Wf/s400/fa5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674380363598957842" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-74190236198277072622011-07-28T06:30:00.000-04:002011-07-28T10:17:15.355-04:00Merely Stating the Obvious<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH6N5SS8pFUOKe5rlZKQNP-wf2dG8xEY4-7u81MCA1h-oGX2ocx2aVALaklqToUOhY9gAgUvU-NI1sIpJKBjcuTMT0j3WdE57ziO_VuABldNlVLi7qu4Oa8-N2eTE9UGw8PTY9u4x8k8ee/s1600/5603270354_3207e147b5_z.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH6N5SS8pFUOKe5rlZKQNP-wf2dG8xEY4-7u81MCA1h-oGX2ocx2aVALaklqToUOhY9gAgUvU-NI1sIpJKBjcuTMT0j3WdE57ziO_VuABldNlVLi7qu4Oa8-N2eTE9UGw8PTY9u4x8k8ee/s400/5603270354_3207e147b5_z.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630534626240770562" /></a><br />I was wiping the cum (his own) off a guy's stomach after a pretty good session the other day. He'd been a quietly submissive bottom, and after I'd had him face down on the mattress, fucking him hard and alternately biting his shoulder and talking dirty in his ear (not really my forte, but if you're fucking a guy hard enough, he certainly doesn't care about the quality of the chatter, and he probably isn't even hearing the individual words) for ten minutes or so (maybe forty minutes into the session), I'd rolled him onto his back and resumed making out with him while I played with his cock and one nip until he'd shot. He was a really good kisser despite having unimpressive white boy lips (The other evening, I was over at That Guy's place, and he asked me what I liked best about him, and I said his fire. Then he said what he liked best about me was my lips. I have mixed feelings about being liked primarily for any of my body parts, but I am forced to acknowledge that you would be hard pressed to find a better combination of plumpness and skill in the lips of a white guy.), and if his nips weren't all that, well, nobody's perfect, right?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEmITprw_8hGf8sD9BDRnvG826QF2e8pU-SaEoipXjT-cPV0AbfZjMt-FCpqHRee3_dPtcg9sG8NClRakSbH4JnjPqV9E0SHU0lyjGa0HHz3CFpUAo04VuwKrZ9JR7uZ0Ui9Heag9ZfhH7/s1600/5610377754_a329b5b7df_z.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEmITprw_8hGf8sD9BDRnvG826QF2e8pU-SaEoipXjT-cPV0AbfZjMt-FCpqHRee3_dPtcg9sG8NClRakSbH4JnjPqV9E0SHU0lyjGa0HHz3CFpUAo04VuwKrZ9JR7uZ0Ui9Heag9ZfhH7/s400/5610377754_a329b5b7df_z.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630534627965053826" /></a><br />Anyway, as I was wiping, I said, "So you're married, right?"<br /><br />He looked nonplussed for a moment, but then regained equilibrium and said, "Yeah, how did you know?"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4FfmyqEwugoWSJqHlFdaarCUmMwfuEg6IX7F8Ai84la93eokf70E1TeCu6gTeSzSN-ST_N-z52NbCC272cUFQmacb5dx7f5xmCa1vGN9qHygwEeExny3byAGY_3FHkZnDIgP5dt-mpNE/s1600/5699833746_4508c0fd88_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4FfmyqEwugoWSJqHlFdaarCUmMwfuEg6IX7F8Ai84la93eokf70E1TeCu6gTeSzSN-ST_N-z52NbCC272cUFQmacb5dx7f5xmCa1vGN9qHygwEeExny3byAGY_3FHkZnDIgP5dt-mpNE/s400/5699833746_4508c0fd88_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630534617478951042" /></a><br />I just laughed for a second and then said, "Dude. You're from Germantown. You kiss well. You love getting fucked. You were wearing an ESPN t-shirt when you got here. You drove up in an SUV. I didn't have to be Sherlock to call that one."<br /><br />He just laughed. Next time he wants to be tied down. I'm game, but with gas prices what they are, he'd probably save a lot of money if he just bought some rope and a strap-on for his wife to use.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQP5GbuHY0tJkwfG-gWG7bx1xWdiZP1XXQ2lEt15w0vIX17S3d9bIlxASy0mumHK4cZ2yjwuIUTXluPr2sWAyOy9y8IP2KMe53TNL6jHFniiN6Xu6REdIntJPUWqqfi5HTlJK52mh6CekZ/s1600/5747107377_bb6a8f3e30_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQP5GbuHY0tJkwfG-gWG7bx1xWdiZP1XXQ2lEt15w0vIX17S3d9bIlxASy0mumHK4cZ2yjwuIUTXluPr2sWAyOy9y8IP2KMe53TNL6jHFniiN6Xu6REdIntJPUWqqfi5HTlJK52mh6CekZ/s400/5747107377_bb6a8f3e30_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630534619398498098" /></a><br />In answer to a question from Will in a recent comment, my bed's doing just fine these days. After the last collapse, I decided to balance it on two high-backed Ikea dining chairs at the head and three cheap Ikea stools at the foot. I didn't think this would work as a long-term solution, due to possible sliding during heavy-duty usage, but it's been great. The mattress still slides across the deck a bit, since there are no sides to the platform, and I should probably fix that sometime, but it's very sturdy, and the deck itself doesn't move.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-41009236708328221312011-07-25T01:50:00.000-04:002011-07-25T12:52:16.119-04:00New York Minute<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eW5gg08svOThAx-cWO9MFwB36o4Ro3LQe0_Fg9xqjnkZHvHxgDoCq4A0mvfy5G99om7xg1rPDJYgJhhmlXWUDtOJhNmgkfaut0EhnMIJKAUP42cAkd4tLcAvpiciG_dw-2SFT2-aalNt/s1600/5293661384_1768a28f70.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 373px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eW5gg08svOThAx-cWO9MFwB36o4Ro3LQe0_Fg9xqjnkZHvHxgDoCq4A0mvfy5G99om7xg1rPDJYgJhhmlXWUDtOJhNmgkfaut0EhnMIJKAUP42cAkd4tLcAvpiciG_dw-2SFT2-aalNt/s400/5293661384_1768a28f70.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630540488168960626" /></a><br />Honestly, I started this post a while back, probably right after I got back from NYC, mostly just to remember the various guys I hooked up with on my less-than-forty-eight-hour trip there. Sexual memory is an odd thing: I probably wouldn't recognize half of those guys if I saw them on the street tomorrow, but the one-sentence thumbnails that I left here were enough to bring back the men, if not all the details of the encounters. The details, as I've said before, kind of bleed into one another anyway, since you do pretty much the same things (or at least you choose elements from the same limited set) with almost every guy you're with. Anyway, here's the rest of the post, with the now-somewhat-fleshed-out descriptions.<br /><br />This past tax season was something of a bruiser, and -- due to the vagaries of Federal tax law and DC's insistence on having a holiday on April 15th -- what should have been a three-day weekend off turned into my having to go to the office on Monday the 18th. Such is life. I would have liked to take the rest of the week off, but I had to be back in the office Thursday morning for an IRS audit. That gave me Monday evening, all day Tuesday, and Wednesday morning to enjoy NYC. Sadly, the usual 4 - 4.5 hour bus took 6.5 hours, so I had less of the evening than I wanted. But I also had my iPhone and Craigslist, so in addition to some good food, a little shopping, and a half-price ticket to <i>Priscilla: Queen of the Desert</i> (something of a guilty pleasure, but ultimately a thumbs down: see another show), I managed to hook up with seven guys in something less than forty-eight hours. Nothing like a record, but not bad, I guess. Also, I got a 3.5-star hotel room for two nights for less than $300 total, including fees and taxes. I had to stay in what is apparently known as the FiDi, but being right next to the World Trade Center site was kind of cool, and the boys in NYC are apparently used to taking cabs to hook-ups. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRoBhjCbnbzchf7mX1SzW2KgSCJ_VdhNqtWzdpAW5wGiY-JcI1LF4BieJSJANjVGJ5oVBbs5NtVZn37tVSEESu9lqHE2XW_w3hf75xFqjpOyjAQg9XwvGCznKNE8ZNtdAhHBSTSBbL9LTd/s1600/5293661376_eb8e3515cc.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRoBhjCbnbzchf7mX1SzW2KgSCJ_VdhNqtWzdpAW5wGiY-JcI1LF4BieJSJANjVGJ5oVBbs5NtVZn37tVSEESu9lqHE2XW_w3hf75xFqjpOyjAQg9XwvGCznKNE8ZNtdAhHBSTSBbL9LTd/s400/5293661376_eb8e3515cc.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630540480400135730" /></a><br />1. Slender, youngish mixed race guy. He seemed a bit nervous when he arrived, but he very quickly got comfortable. Nice lips, good kisser, loved bouncing up and down on my cock. In what was to become something of a theme, he was in my room for less than half an hour and then blamed me for being too skilled for him to hold back his orgasm. It seems that almost all New Yorkers are hurried, nervous, and a bit disillusioned. But they're fun in the sack, and since I had guy 2 lined up, it was no big deal sending guy 1 on his way after thirty minutes.<br /><br /><br />2. Blue collar guy who spent the night. You know I joke about being a sexual missionary to the inexperienced masses, but sometimes it really seems to be the case. I got a response from a guy who said that he was in a bar in Chelsea and wanted to come by later, and then I didn't hear back after my reply, and then, apparently, he got drunker, and he said he wanted to come over. The young, inexperienced, and drunk often have limited sexual utility, but they are often otherwise amusing. Also cute. This particular guy was more handsome than cute, but that works, too, and the straight-out-of-<i>All-in-the-Family</i> New Yawk accent is a fun thing. I wish I remembered the details better, but I do know that I fucked him twice, and that between fucks we went to a bar near the hotel that apparently caters to blue collar types. How else can you explain having four beers for less than thirty bucks in Manhattan? I had to kick him out a little on the early side the next morning, but I think he had to get to work anyway.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglX9o4RkpQc7GJy8-i9aFWjhK3zmm5e054heTmiCIJlTibOu1sUgK7QUm4vqlOQd99OvOsQlnDZJ5JkhLtUB-SuVOVS3_41zwBhc0BnioVeD-sAy_7oiwvW3IUadyMdQnoeQDfWjEQHD1_/s1600/5252415085_7b4f7129d4_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglX9o4RkpQc7GJy8-i9aFWjhK3zmm5e054heTmiCIJlTibOu1sUgK7QUm4vqlOQd99OvOsQlnDZJ5JkhLtUB-SuVOVS3_41zwBhc0BnioVeD-sAy_7oiwvW3IUadyMdQnoeQDfWjEQHD1_/s400/5252415085_7b4f7129d4_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630540475956237250" /></a><br />3. Married marketing guy. You gotta love a fit handsome guy who gets all the way to his fifties without having more than one or two experiences with men. These guys are typically very outgoing in their professional lives, but shy and sweet when they finally overcome their inhibitions enough to want some man-to-man and you happen to be the other man in the right place at the right time. Anyway, this guy was a great kisser, and he loved what I did to his nipples and his ass. He wouldn't let me fuck him, but, well, I was already on pace to go through my supply of condoms, and I still wanted to see some of the city outside my hotel room. He put a lot of effort into not coming right away, but he was only successful for half an hour. Again, I was told I was too good for him to hold back. Again: whatever. I still exchange the occasional email with this guy, so if I'm back in the city alone again, I might have him, again, on his way to the office. Le yum.<br /><br />4. Italian advertising guy. I had this guy for a nooner after I'd been out walking across the lower part of the city to get some tickets for a show and score some very good falafel. He worked at a midtown advertising agency of some sort, and he'd put the sort of effort into his appearance that you'd expect from an Italian in advertising. His clothing didn't do much for me, but he looked pretty good naked. He also came in just under half an hour, but he wasn't trying to hold anything back. I suspect all of his hookups are like that. Anyway, he had a very responsive ass, and I had my tongue and then cock up it, and by this time I was used to the fast pace, so it was all good.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh82RuEgEHYDb7EsqCCGN72TvDeo4Jr8fXemJyFO5tUtIldxIVMCtEoD6g5H9Tcw9NKGJLn6uxyQuxXUV8SOSH98r_-DDcY5yONBgnww0Ai0A0mIVNyLNopYuV3PkWkufP_iIrDKy0ZEJvO/s1600/5252415079_cea6efe214_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 318px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh82RuEgEHYDb7EsqCCGN72TvDeo4Jr8fXemJyFO5tUtIldxIVMCtEoD6g5H9Tcw9NKGJLn6uxyQuxXUV8SOSH98r_-DDcY5yONBgnww0Ai0A0mIVNyLNopYuV3PkWkufP_iIrDKy0ZEJvO/s400/5252415079_cea6efe214_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630540475535257954" /></a><br />5. Mr. Nips. This guy was also in his fifties, with lots of ink and metal, and he really loved loved loved having his nips worked hard. They were both pierced, and when I had him on his back with my cock slamming into him, he came when I tugged hard on both of them, which, unsurprisingly, happened about half an hour in. He said that he never shoots that quickly but that I was just too damned good with his nipples. Do you think these guys get together and coordinate their scripts? Anyway, y'all know how much I love nips, so it was a very hot half hour. Sadly, he later texted me to tell me what a great job I'd done on his nips, and I apparently ruined things by saying "Who is this?" In my defense, the number of guys who tell me that I've done a great job on their nips is a relatively large number, and I can't be expected to recognize all of the NY area exchanges, can I? Oops.<br /><br />6. Indian dude who wanted to be racially degraded. Oh, dude, there are limits. I will chew on your nips and pin you down and pretend that I'm forcing you to shove your tongue in my mouth. I will eat your very hot ass while you go down on me, and I will then pin you down and rub my cock against yours when you claim that you are really a top. I will eat your pits and eat your ass some more while you jerk a healthy load onto my chest, and I will even accede to your demands that I pump a load onto your chest. But I will not call you a "sand n*****." He sure was pretty, though.<br /><br />7. Short, uber-hairy dude. This guy tried to get to me early in my stay, but I was fucking someone else, and then I told him I was free, but he was stuck at a Seder or something, and I thought we probably wouldn't ever hook up, but he wanted it very badly, and he was pretty much worth the wait. Compact lean guys always get my motor going, whether they're smooth or hairy, but I'd done a lot of smooth on this trip, and sometimes it's fun to have to search for the nipples with your tongue so that you can clamp down on them to make the bottom throw his head back and pant. He actually had a full forty-five minutes to give me, so by NYC standards it was quite the leisurely fuck. Well, to the extent that having a guy bounce up and down on my cock faster and faster while I fist his cock until he shoots all over me can be considered leisurely. He had exceptionally attractive lips, and he knew what to do with them (i.e., he lay back and let me suck on them while he sighed and made lots of precum). It's always nice to end with a live wire.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LPCdyjg5PofadwvBLL8gRyzlR_kyDRFJ0x7bkThYTGngMMkca-fPlWzyJm-W6OpWL_19BW4EalCWwqKQoilsmgfoL_DSWLAaP2eZCxHmMruo8Puj9kNycYxCQMDTv2RPyUvI_082Uzs4/s1600/5115359369_fa2b1d2215_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LPCdyjg5PofadwvBLL8gRyzlR_kyDRFJ0x7bkThYTGngMMkca-fPlWzyJm-W6OpWL_19BW4EalCWwqKQoilsmgfoL_DSWLAaP2eZCxHmMruo8Puj9kNycYxCQMDTv2RPyUvI_082Uzs4/s400/5115359369_fa2b1d2215_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630540474171931730" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-87728427266734081512011-07-14T18:00:00.003-04:002011-07-15T12:04:28.612-04:00Still KickingSo, yeah, I haven't posted here in a while, and I don't really have any compelling reasons for the silence. Non-compelling reasons include the following:<br /><br />1. It seems like it's harder to swipe pictures off flickr these days. I mean, I get the whole intellectual property thing, but it's not like I was making money from using those pictures. Also, it's probably still possible, so that probably boils down to:<br /><br />2. Laziness. You'll note the lack of pics in this post. Sorry. I like them, too.<br /><br />3. I really like writing about my sex life, but after a while it started to seem like all my sex sounded the same. You'll notice that about both fictional (which mine is not) and non-fictional (which mine is) pornography in general, I think, and it kind of makes sense. If you find practices that reliably give you great joy no matter how many times you do them (I'm guessing at this point that I've eaten a couple of hundred different asses over the past nine or ten years, and the two I ate on Tuesday were every bit as good as the ones I ate when I was first starting out. Not that they're all that great, but a good ass is timeless.), then you're going to keep doing them, right? I mean the Hare Krishnas don't get up some days and say, "Hey, let's chant the preamble to the Constitution today for a change of pace!" Or at least I presume they don't. Anyway, I don't generally find good sex in any way monotonous, and when I do, it just means that it's time to fuck someone else for a session or two. Which reminds me:<br /><br />4. I've been dating the same guy since November, and he's been taking up a fair amount of my time. And I don't really want to write about my sex life with him, just because I'm pretty sure he'd see that as a betrayal and tacky. Mostly tacky. I will mention, though, that this guy (whom I generally refer to as That Guy) has been warning me since about the second date (Which, arguably, could be the third date since apparently he and I hooked up about three years ago when I was still living with b&c; when we met again this past November, I remembered him, but I didn't actually remember the sex. Oops.) that if things between us progressed to a certain point, then he would demand exclusivity. I am extremely ambivalent about this notion of exclusivity. On the one hand, That Guy is the bomb. He's extraordinarily attractive, and I sometimes refer to him as Catnip just because when I'm in his presence I almost invariably feel intoxicated (and not just because he's always plying me with cocktails and I'm not much of a drinker). On the other hand: exclusive, really? I just honestly don't see the point of it. But it's very clear that That Guy sees the point and that it's very important to him. Or that it would become very important to him at some point. He and I have very different views of sexuality. I would characterize his position as more stereotypically feminine. He has not, for instance, had sex with anyone else since we started dating. I had been pretty sure of this fact (without wanting to bring it up because I just don't want to encourage him to utter the E-word) since about a month into dating him, but he told me so explicitly a couple of weeks ago. Also, he has a slower arousal response than most guys, including -- especially -- me. By which I mean that for the first couple of months we were dating, it was sometimes difficult to get him to bed, presumably because he wasn't emotionally invested. Now if I'm over at his place on a weeknight, I'm lucky if I can get out of there at 11 (having arrived at 8) and without fucking a third (or possibly fourth; I lose track sometimes) load out of him. Anyway, we've always gotten along terrifically out of the sack, and the sex has been getting better and better (two or three months ago I'd have said that I'd never agree to an exclusive arrangement just because the sex wasn't all that), and I do find it very hard to say no to any bottom who knows nine languages, so we'll just have to see how that goes. <br /><br />But the exclusivity thing -- if it ever arrives -- is clearly in the future, so I've continued to be fairly active, sort of like I'm having a clearance sale. Everything must go! So, for example, when I took my post-busy season quickie trip to NYC, I was in the city for less than forty-eight hours and had seven different guys, a couple of which weren't even quickies. (I have noticed, however, that NYC guys are on a much faster pace in all areas. At least five of those guys told me that they didn't usually come that fast but that they did because I was just so hot. Oh, puh-leeeze. I think even the guy who spent the night used that line on me. Twice.)<br /><br />A more recent example: I believe it was this past Monday night. I had just gotten home and was doing a couple of household chores before heading over to That Guy's house for the evening, and I got a text message from David, an extraordinarily cute twenty-something Chinese-born local resident. He wanted to play, and I told him, sure, but it'd have to be a quickie because I needed to leave for That Guy's house by 7:30, and he said he would wait for later in the week, and I said, "Are you sure? You can have a lot of fun in twenty minutes," and he said he'd come over.<br /><br />David, frankly, is not that great in the sack, in part because he's very inexperienced, and in part because he's convinced that he's a top. I have not yet had time to disabuse him of that notion, so while he occasionally will play with my cock as a matter of curiosity and/or jealousy (his own cock is quite small), he doesn't go down on it, and I don't get to fuck him. On the plus side, though, his body is pretty much a live wire, and the fact that his experience is mostly confined to drunken furtive fucks at the end of parties that he attends with his cousins (who -- he says -- don't know he's gay) means that he really appreciates (loudly) my experience, skills, and full range of bodily stimulation. Also, he has nice lips and kisses well. And, of course, there's that extraordinarily cute thing. But he never stays for a second orgasm, even though he's in his mid-twenties, and he doesn't make any real effort to get me off, so half an hour of him is usually just about the right amount of time, and twenty minutes is plenty. <br /><br />In this particular case, I started eating his ass on the stairway up to the bedroom, and he started moaning. I moved him to the bedroom, finished undressing him, and put him down on the bed, where I went after his small but very sensitive nipples. We made out briefly, and then I had him sit on my face. I continued to run my fingertips lightly along the sensitive parts (i.e., all) of his body, while I shoved my tongue deeply into him. Vocal writhing ensued. Eventually, I shoved my thumb into his ass and banged it hard against his prostate while I sucked on his cock. He got louder. A minute later, I swallowed his load. Small but sweet, kind of like his cock -- and him. I was still, mostly, in my work clothes. We chatted for a bit, I saw him out, and then I showered and headed off for a significantly more adult interaction with That Guy. David is a lot of fun in his way, but he's very much an <i>amuse bouche</i>. With time, he might progress to an appetizer or maybe a pasta course, but every time he comes over, I figure it might very well be the last, and I won't especially mind.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-16948566288644297362010-12-04T12:31:00.000-05:002010-12-04T12:38:46.723-05:00Another One Bites the Dust<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSK-dQ3VqxIv5H6RZH1Vyx4nnPy5bPXcW3YLHE39dq_lwJUf34S_BPoPoUjEITApNLKuqkhtgPDOZOpu85DgBuMA_lwHC71PMv7mMDBdLRWbGM0Ca5gfw06mv_kdUijKxve5-Q0iE-fGG/s1600/backside1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSK-dQ3VqxIv5H6RZH1Vyx4nnPy5bPXcW3YLHE39dq_lwJUf34S_BPoPoUjEITApNLKuqkhtgPDOZOpu85DgBuMA_lwHC71PMv7mMDBdLRWbGM0Ca5gfw06mv_kdUijKxve5-Q0iE-fGG/s400/backside1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546881994139111858" /></a><br />I was balls deep in a blindfolded married sub from Colorado when my bed collapsed. This is the second bed I've fucked apart in the past few months, but the particulars are different (though I was also balls deep in a married sub when the first one died). The first bed was a cheap-o commercial frame that I'd had for a long time and had been weakened by repeated dis- and re-assembly over many years, and I knew it was coming. The second bed was a non-nonsense, built-of-2-by-4, field-tested-for-1,000-pounds, homemade number that fell apart because of poor design. <br /><br />Actually, the main deck of the bed was perfectly well constructed and remains in fine shape. I didn't lose any of the eyebolts, and the restraints are still tied to them. The problem was that I put the deck on a large number of too-long 2x4s, and I affixed the legs to the deck with two screws each, and after repeated, often intense, shaking, the whole thing turned out to be something that was, in effect sitting on stilts. Alas. Now I've pulled all the legs off, and the platform part is sitting on the floor, elevated only enough so that none of the remaining hardware can scratch the floors.*<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXG40uvCttWmGU3xtca580Q51V1cFEV9XQd9kXRybirw1OL6VxY6p9-of70V33o3OGis251zm_4yqllJmrjAh0a9qNLLdvw7DPYkdn9GwM-Ss-9dZ-jjUf3XPRxNnxwmiIGUY00oRf3Sd/s1600/backside2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXG40uvCttWmGU3xtca580Q51V1cFEV9XQd9kXRybirw1OL6VxY6p9-of70V33o3OGis251zm_4yqllJmrjAh0a9qNLLdvw7DPYkdn9GwM-Ss-9dZ-jjUf3XPRxNnxwmiIGUY00oRf3Sd/s400/backside2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546881987687800258" /></a><br />Remarkably, Colorado took it entirely in stride when the upper right corner of the bed fell to the ground as a couple of the legs snapped free of their screws. I suppose he was prepared by the swaying of the bed during the previous couple of minutes, along with my having leapt out of the bed in an attempt to straighten and reinforce it before leaping back into his ass. Anyway, he pretty much just lay there while I figured out what to do, which was a) clear a space on the floor, b) pull him off the bed, c) pull the mattress onto the clear space on the floor, and d) put him back on the bed on the floor.<br /><br />Colorado had replied to my weekend craigslist ad, with a relatively brief (and fortunately to-the-point) response saying he was back in town and wanted to play. I had to ask him who he was, and he replied that he was the guy who pretended to be robbing my house. I had to ask him <i>which</i> guy who pretended to be robbing my house (hey, it's a common roleplay: just ask anybody), and he said, "Colorado," and I said, "Yum." But when he replied I had an entirely different sub (not married, but he had a girlfriend) on the way over, and when that guy arrived, it was pretty clear that he wasn't leaving until I'd given him a load (not that I was trying to get rid of him or anything: he was a hot, mixed-race guy with muscles and a shaved head and nipples that didn't quit, and he kissed well), and when he left, about an hour later (roughly 12.5 seconds after I came: he was very goal oriented), it was late, and I didn't feel like fucking Colorado, who, fortunately, was still available late the next night, when I got home from the symphony (And for the love of God, people, enough with the fucking Mahler already. Also, a symphony that clocks in at 72 minutes is at least half an hour too long.), so I told him to come over.<br /><br />We played the usual game, and I stood in one of the downstairs bedrooms while he came in and stripped down and somehow could not find the blindfold that I had left on the table right next to the door, so he stood facing against the wall (Note to self: you have a basement, so you can absolutely get some sub to come in, go down to the basement and face the wall. Craigslist ad title: <i>Blair Witch Roleplay</i>.) while I blindfolded him and then led him to the stairs and squeezed his buns, alternately, while he walked up. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijvGFpIve02hQxyq8417jmH7k4Uh4QmraddCaHraHTyMyKTnLNRkdc-9C1WI4gHU7PjXRvU5MGjOmp2iealgqln2NP_pF-JIlGwlfYJlQeHL0SmRU7kpIBa9qLzoLI1rWsk4FBR0ndSd6a/s1600/backside3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijvGFpIve02hQxyq8417jmH7k4Uh4QmraddCaHraHTyMyKTnLNRkdc-9C1WI4gHU7PjXRvU5MGjOmp2iealgqln2NP_pF-JIlGwlfYJlQeHL0SmRU7kpIBa9qLzoLI1rWsk4FBR0ndSd6a/s400/backside3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546881978559371778" /></a><br />Colorado likes to make out, though probably only when he's blindfolded, so I put him on the bed and started with the normal kissing and nipple play. He's pretty well put together, maybe 5'11 and smooth and fairly handsome in that semi-metrosexual, married, mid-forties kind of way, and it was all going pretty well and entirely according to plan through his going down on me and my eating his ass, but he'd said that he didn't want to be fucked that night, so I figured we'd just do that for a while and then I'd jerk off on his face and then suck him off. He always asks for that, and it doesn't take very long, and he has a nice-looking cock, so why not?<br /><br />But he got more and more into it as I ate his ass, and I got a couple of fingers in, and he was really getting worked up, so I pulled him back around, face to face, and I kissed him some more while he rubbed his ass up and down against my cock, and I said, "You said you didn't want to fuck, so if you want to fuck, you're going to have to say it," and he asked for a condom. Close enough. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4zA8idVBlamw_wlem1PHcFCtxp-taAWwpf5scuiTIDb2czSdbgxEn5RkcLnna530B0e9lqBgcZ1MY1wkd-dt7iotYocZCqaOnKuaBwrrwSARDA57mdAJNvC5iRtzhGEf7ovFcaFjb634l/s1600/backside4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4zA8idVBlamw_wlem1PHcFCtxp-taAWwpf5scuiTIDb2czSdbgxEn5RkcLnna530B0e9lqBgcZ1MY1wkd-dt7iotYocZCqaOnKuaBwrrwSARDA57mdAJNvC5iRtzhGEf7ovFcaFjb634l/s400/backside4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546881978281871058" /></a><br />He was pretty tight, so it had taken a little while for him to get the condom on (the blindfold didn't seem to trouble him unduly, however) and then sit on me and ease me into him. He'd ridden me for a bit and then I'd lowered him back into the X position. He's not really a noisy fuck, but I could tell I was hitting all the right spots (There's more than one, right? There are details about bottoming that I just don't get. Anyway, I was hitting the big spot pretty well, apparently.), and I'd gotten him on his back and had grabbed his ankles and pushed them forward (he's pretty limber) and was pounding away as I hope to do for the majority of eternity if there is an afterlife and a kind and reasonable god in charge when the bed issues began. <br /><br />By the time the bed issues were resolved, I had had nearly enough of the pounding, so I gave it another minute or two just to show that order had been restored, and then I started to go down on him. But I was thinking that he'd been an awfully good sport about the whole thing, so perhaps I should make like a true cocksucker and make it last. I spent the next half-hour bringing him to the edge and then easing off the cockhead and onto the nipples until he'd backed away and then repeating the process. He was extraordinarily appreciative and started making with the louder sighs and the "Oh my God"s and the "You're so much better at this than I am" (not true, really), and that was a good deal more gratifying than I might have expected.<br /><br />In the end, I had a finger working his prostate and I brought him to a fairly volcanic orgasm and ejaculation. It took him a while to regroup after I had cleaned him up. I may actually have rocked his world. Of course, that probably means that now he's running all over his part of Colorado getting head, but I reckon he'll probably come back to me when he's back in the area again. From what he said as he was leaving, it seems that his mother lives here, and he comes to visit her two or three times a year, which is consistent with the frequency of his visits. <br /><br />I can't say that Colorado sparked any real new interest in cocksucking: whether I want to suck the cock still depends entirely on whether it's a pretty cock, and I still usually get bored with the process after forty-five seconds or so, and most of the guys really aren't anywhere near as interested in that as they are in getting a good pounding, but it was fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-i4Ziu9xIoShcblRYxstxDHC1Fa4Y2ViAq8s57U7yB68RhuUTDiXU-nqafbInoQaCqoQQQrxTElt584KReyj4MnRjZWvx0mVt6_BZOJgDYMmkjnE1o2PgleDCe9ekOETB-YC8QkQF1o2/s1600/backside5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-i4Ziu9xIoShcblRYxstxDHC1Fa4Y2ViAq8s57U7yB68RhuUTDiXU-nqafbInoQaCqoQQQrxTElt584KReyj4MnRjZWvx0mVt6_BZOJgDYMmkjnE1o2PgleDCe9ekOETB-YC8QkQF1o2/s400/backside5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546882415038401218" /></a><br />* I started this entry a while back. The bed has since been lifted onto a pair of Ikea dining chairs (at the head) and a trio of Ikea stools (at the foot). This arrangement struck me as possibly precarious at first, but it has stood up well in real-world conditions.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-46469443909849377442010-09-30T16:02:00.000-04:002010-09-30T23:55:57.159-04:00VPD<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh7yzj6EY6WenOson6xW2TO-rSs3FclZsS2ueqGARiXoikH7N7XT-YLeoOaPaO7Wjx16uK4MEuVYheDzoNWgyCRlsUuB4m4a_B_h9fFnskmG8nkntXn2CowUn60rLCbVXcXjpKxAkrUksf/s1600/ac1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh7yzj6EY6WenOson6xW2TO-rSs3FclZsS2ueqGARiXoikH7N7XT-YLeoOaPaO7Wjx16uK4MEuVYheDzoNWgyCRlsUuB4m4a_B_h9fFnskmG8nkntXn2CowUn60rLCbVXcXjpKxAkrUksf/s400/ac1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522919849074089282" /></a><br />Vertical Personality Disorder is a condition where a man who is fun and perhaps even charming while horizontal turns into a big dick (not in a good way) when vertical. The horizontal charm is largely about the fucking, of course, but it's not just about the fucking. I've frequently experienced five or ten or thirty minutes of very pleasant (albeit often drowsy) post-coital conversation, and then the guy gets up to use the bathroom or get dressed, and the bonhommie evaporates. <br /><br />This most frequently manifests in a guy who was happy to spend half an hour making out before being made to walk funny is suddenly nonplussed by a front-door goodbye kiss, but it can also show up as bizarre post-encounter behavior. Repeated emails, text messages, and phone calls (unsolicited, mind you) from guys saying they want a repeat but failing to follow through. The weirdest thing is that after acting like jerks, they're resume being charming when they're again horizontal. Go figure.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgle1buKV9KSp4Ugp52GV-_dBYOVlwQdNEBtpzM6Jpu8ynXD8mqQ3TTuliVBnaJL7odXXHEnxia2C3NxBj8PQWPopZzqHleJfHwTHhuqh6BtbkVjUSGnDZzN5ZVaehNu7Wcwokd-nAkotv7/s1600/ac2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgle1buKV9KSp4Ugp52GV-_dBYOVlwQdNEBtpzM6Jpu8ynXD8mqQ3TTuliVBnaJL7odXXHEnxia2C3NxBj8PQWPopZzqHleJfHwTHhuqh6BtbkVjUSGnDZzN5ZVaehNu7Wcwokd-nAkotv7/s400/ac2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522919675584105602" /></a><br />I still occasionally find this sort of behavior troubling, but mostly I just don't let it bother me. Back in the day I was more sensitive, but these days, if one guy says he wants to put his heels to heaven but then flakes on me, the usual upshot is that I'm happy for the opportunity to have a relaxed free night, and then someone else calls me and comes over instead. I have real trouble saying no to such offers of companionship, though I have developed the skill to move people along so that I don't miss that night's episode of <i>Top Chef Just Desserts</i>. Yeah, I know, but nobody's perfect, and I like fantasizing about ganache and Yigit. <br /><br />-----<br /><br />There has been some Major Life Trauma in recent weeks, and it plays out in unpredictable ways in my sex life. There are times when it means that I just can't be bothered, and there are other times when it means that I'm extra horny, and throw that ass on the bed right now, boy. I never know which sort of mood that I'm going to be in, and this past Saturday, I really expected to be in the can't be bothered mood, which would have been really useful since I had a lot to do at the office, but then in the middle of the afternoon, I happened to look on Grindr, and there happened to be a geekily cute guy within reasonable proximity, and he happened to be responsive to my inquiries, so I happened to find myself walking through the door to his condominium a few minutes later. (It was a studio, so I had to help him flatten the futon from sofa to bed, but never let it be said that I'm not willing to work for it.)<br /><br />When I walked in, I started to kiss him, and he apologized for tasting like coffee, but I told him that I like coffee, and then I kissed him some more, and (after folding the futon out), I started to undress him, and he apologized for being so pale, but I told him that I like pale, and then I got him undressed and remembered that he said that he hated having his nipples played with, so I started to suck on his neck instead, and he moaned and then apologized for not liking his nipples played with, and I said, "You aren't the sort who has to wrestle with your own arrogance, are you?" and he laughed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbwptYU8a1YsYsA2Nmr4W7X4z-JkvfSBDxRmM6CRDdSQAdxXFnq2q1txjA7VMv7b2OSU6Zs8mirtCvfsClQ_lzJyMT-k40UR74PIlmfyfcuiVG9r3hdfs0ZPifsAMM1C4j6BSf5g4Aunc3/s1600/ac3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbwptYU8a1YsYsA2Nmr4W7X4z-JkvfSBDxRmM6CRDdSQAdxXFnq2q1txjA7VMv7b2OSU6Zs8mirtCvfsClQ_lzJyMT-k40UR74PIlmfyfcuiVG9r3hdfs0ZPifsAMM1C4j6BSf5g4Aunc3/s400/ac3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522919671325867666" /></a><br />And then things pretty much fell into place. I had to slow him down once or twice, when he too quickly wanted to get fucked, and I had to remind myself to stay away from his nipples, and OMG, you know what? After I'd eaten his ass and fucked him for a long time and he'd gone down on me and he'd spent tens of minutes moaning while I very lightly stroked all over his body, I forgot and licked his nipples and it turned out that he just didn't like any sort of pulling or biting or pinching, but licking and stroking was all good, and why did you not tell me that before, boy?<br /><br />Anyway, it was two hours of awesome because he had a very reactive body and a nice smile and a subtle yet quick wit and that whole geekily cute thing going. More like him, please. I could have run my fingers over his simmering flesh all night long.<br /><br />I went back to the office afterwards and then home, and again I'd planned to do nothing, but I thought I would at least try to text a guy who'd been in town working and visiting family and had wanted to play earlier in the week but had then had to do something with his family. I'd have just forgotten about it, but I figured it couldn't hurt, and he was really handsome in that short, smooth, big-nippled way that I can't resist, and he extremely submissive, so I sent him a message and he replied back while I was at Home Depot, which is always a good spot from which to flirt, even over the phone, and he said that he was finished with his work and headed back to Miami the next day but free later that evening and would come by in about ninety minutes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdzw3xgojgEGKDlCX1MGhAC234MPSnJ715uuZFuR1C2Q45ls5rUF452SWdPmeDq6VHT1zapSdWJ5dzvCrW1fhmO2j_MFVBmhPKcvPz1GpF_zSXGgHx7iw5SWepUULnBX93RI9r7ChKRA8/s1600/ac4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdzw3xgojgEGKDlCX1MGhAC234MPSnJ715uuZFuR1C2Q45ls5rUF452SWdPmeDq6VHT1zapSdWJ5dzvCrW1fhmO2j_MFVBmhPKcvPz1GpF_zSXGgHx7iw5SWepUULnBX93RI9r7ChKRA8/s400/ac4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522919663737579650" /></a><br />Ninety minutes turned into three hours when he had trouble finding a motel room (he was flying out the next day, and I didn't know him, so I wasn't sure about offering to let him sleep over, especially since I had to sing the next morning and needed some sleep, and he seemed like the type who might make me wake up and molest him a lot), and I was worried that it was going to be too late to get started, but then he showed up and I kissed him, and I lifted his shirt, and I bit down on his nipple about as hard as I've ever bitten on a nipple, and he was mine. <br /><br />That was three hours of full-on awesome, and I wish I could the exact order, but here are some of the highlights:<br /><br />Every once in a while he would say that he needed some more energy, and he would take a few swigs of his Red Bull and then we'd make out. He was a great kisser, too.<br /><br />I'm pretty sure this is the only time I've ever been able to fist someone without lube. Yet he was tight. How did he do that? Also, incredibly clean. He must have a machine of some sort.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WBsjJBqs2afb-cqFPy9xJ2jtY5CKK1X3CnlfJmnAom5ur5N1_mik-sp9bK5EUJYPh9pYa7leam-GjNe7q6f4vh67-U0VUXAdFAtu0RaTmcgisISx-0NDMBeqx14MBquCJcDSJsOr8qGP/s1600/ac5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WBsjJBqs2afb-cqFPy9xJ2jtY5CKK1X3CnlfJmnAom5ur5N1_mik-sp9bK5EUJYPh9pYa7leam-GjNe7q6f4vh67-U0VUXAdFAtu0RaTmcgisISx-0NDMBeqx14MBquCJcDSJsOr8qGP/s400/ac5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522919662718394050" /></a><br />He was also kind of a cool guy, and in one of the interludes when we were chatting, he said that this was the first time in the last three years when he'd truly clicked with a hook-up. That was nice to here, but it also made me incredibly horny, so I licked his nipple as if to be tender and then bit down really hard and then pinned his ankles down next to his ears and pounded. <br /><br />Absolutely no gag reflex. That's supposed to be common, but in my experience, it isn't often the case: guys still gag. Not that there's anything wrong with that.<br /><br />I had his wrists tied to the bed for part of the fucking, and I could pull out and twist him so that his ass was up, and then spank him hard and then go back to fucking him.<br /><br />His shoulders were knotted from a week of work, and I gave him a massage that relaxed him utterly. Then I started biting the back of his neck and shoulders, and things got less relaxed again.<br /><br />I still managed to get almost seven hours of sleep, and I sang well the next morning.<br /><br />More like him, too, please. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-ps4WPDuitRG9nqQvSEuKFexPWbUUJ-gjMWH_dxNJbsPGoWqqmkH9N74GPvJll6uwznEFnXD_y60kFVw4MUQojbrzAkqz74AwAya8KqeUs29ZoXbG4BaEkqkrKHfkv6wQAFNd3qPWFVn/s1600/ac6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-ps4WPDuitRG9nqQvSEuKFexPWbUUJ-gjMWH_dxNJbsPGoWqqmkH9N74GPvJll6uwznEFnXD_y60kFVw4MUQojbrzAkqz74AwAya8KqeUs29ZoXbG4BaEkqkrKHfkv6wQAFNd3qPWFVn/s400/ac6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522919660517448978" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-77678957641133232682010-09-07T19:58:00.001-04:002010-09-07T21:45:04.194-04:00The Post-Coital Book Club<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Tr12wSc0TsKcN9RX8_QTR6tNNCUgvUpH6D7Yil9wiwmMQV0mslKzHqjVu0n-qWCrQ-gR_ydZ7740Tn1jXqPnbXOFa_xkZ-HFw3IRrng26edkzkcMEMXA5wAxfsYh1lfo6RrorcOksoAp/s1600/lm1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Tr12wSc0TsKcN9RX8_QTR6tNNCUgvUpH6D7Yil9wiwmMQV0mslKzHqjVu0n-qWCrQ-gR_ydZ7740Tn1jXqPnbXOFa_xkZ-HFw3IRrng26edkzkcMEMXA5wAxfsYh1lfo6RrorcOksoAp/s400/lm1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514351612759234930" /></a><br /><br />In list format:<br /><br />1. You do not get any sort of meaningful hits at all, let alone the obvious parody that begins "Sometimes it's hard to be a bottom," if you google "Stand by Your Top." How am I to make sense of a universe that doesn't have this but does have the gay rodeo? Also, I am a little embarrassed to admit that I have never been to a drag show, but are there no C&W drag artists? And if there are, how is "Stand by Your Top" not a standard? Are there intellectual property issues? Cole Porter foresaw similar difficulties and wrote "You're the Top" so that the second meaning was obvious.<br /><br />2. I have had mixed luck with gay Muslims during Ramadan. Leo was over this past Saturday evening, and he told me that he had been trying to resist me because it's more sinful than usual to take it up the ass during Ramadan. I confessed my lack of knowledge of Islam to him; at the same time, I opined that as long as he wasn't receiving oral and swallowing before sundown, I didn't see how mansex was incompatible with the five pillars. I feel bad that he's so conflicted, but the only way I could think to show my concern was to make him cum twice, so after I pounded him as hard as I could (which is pretty hard, I have to say) and made him cum with my cock still up his ass, I gave him only a brief rest before I started to stroke him while we made out and then went down on him. When he got close, I closed my mouth and jerked him to completion, then fed him my load off my mustache. It was fully dark by then, but I think he's still conflicted. Alas. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhcSYqxI74uv35I_B_KOYsXOBsFM9yhNSbHkQOVlhUzUbgqiSmI5HCMOUyLJt7s_peHnoT9IZSf_2nQmzWJS7B2EEKGlmQGCZ8A2d-esonykQoNcsjd6Cd-ujaYCOxtCpG7rA9oLRtLfa/s1600/lm2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhcSYqxI74uv35I_B_KOYsXOBsFM9yhNSbHkQOVlhUzUbgqiSmI5HCMOUyLJt7s_peHnoT9IZSf_2nQmzWJS7B2EEKGlmQGCZ8A2d-esonykQoNcsjd6Cd-ujaYCOxtCpG7rA9oLRtLfa/s400/lm2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514351610563550146" /></a><br />My other gay Muslim experience came with a guy who contacted me off one of the hook-up sites and then came over and wanted to be fucked but didn't want to kiss and looked positively repulsed at the notion of oral sex. Then he demanded that I undress first. I explained that I wasn't going to get hard if there was no kissing and no oral and he wouldn't even remove his shirt to let me at his nipples, and then I suggested that he'd be happier elsewhere. He concurred. As time goes by, I find that the innocence and, frequently, youth that accompanies inexperience just doesn't compensate for the erratic behavior and lack of technique. Perhaps I'm jaded.<br /><br />3. The sweet German guy that I wanted to date turned out to be even less available than I had feared, and when he proved entirely unavailable over the weekend (due to work he said, and he was likely telling the truth), I gave up. He kept sending apologetic text messages about his lack of presence, but the tide had turned, and I texted him to say that there was no point in continuing. I felt something very much like nano-heartache when I did that, and I was glad: perhaps I'm not so jaded, after all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7u8JdHx4oMmLHbWjvG9-JVAURBIUtwU2p7ZhnLX_mbio82j1UcfFQ-_ecghZHR4Z51mBndfa39079uwcLMhyphenhyphenni5ZWGHuan41Nt2922UD9TXGi5QJDGSE0HMWA88aZUKsExFqNMJJezQME/s1600/lm3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7u8JdHx4oMmLHbWjvG9-JVAURBIUtwU2p7ZhnLX_mbio82j1UcfFQ-_ecghZHR4Z51mBndfa39079uwcLMhyphenhyphenni5ZWGHuan41Nt2922UD9TXGi5QJDGSE0HMWA88aZUKsExFqNMJJezQME/s400/lm3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514351594414417298" /></a><br />4. I had posted an ad on craigslist for local tops to join in on group sessions. The initial impetus for the ad had been a request from Leo to be taken from both ends, but lots of the bottoms I play with love groups. Unsurprisingly, almost all of the responses I got were from bottoms. One guy claiming to be a top responded, but I couldn't help noticing that he'd replied several times previously to ads seeking a bottom. I decided to take him for a test drive over the weekend. He came hard while he was sitting on my cock, and he was a good kisser, but if he's versatile, I am Marie of Romania. <br /><br />5. One of the bottoms who replied to that ad was a very cute and fit older pig whom I'd plowed hard a couple of months ago, and when I didn't immediately recognize his address (which was a meaningless combination of letters and numbers) or recall playing with him, he got a little insulted. I apologized, not least because nearly two <i>years</i> ago, I inadvertently blew him off when I forgot to check my cell phone for messages (I also apologized at the time), and he forgave me, or at least he forgave me enough to come over to my place, walk in, remove his clothes, put on the blindfold, and crawl up the stairs and into my bedroom while I waited. Hoo, boy, that was fun. He may not be the greatest kisser in the world (he gets very excited, and it's a little bit like making out with a shark), but what an attitude and an appetite for cock. After an hour or so of sex, including reasonably lengthy fucks in multiple positions, I stroked his remarkably nicely formed cock to completion. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgenGGhIGnDRLNT7HYj6YwP8EdUNhiXtAjqWhzOJNLiO624_RCiKBH3-U7K5QB_hY5zKhH6U_DgIK3wIZu_ifNNwKin__S9n8cB_0jeYplb7Asos7Dk6J8VXZEUwnfLyYqlGftyQTHd43K2/s1600/lm4a.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgenGGhIGnDRLNT7HYj6YwP8EdUNhiXtAjqWhzOJNLiO624_RCiKBH3-U7K5QB_hY5zKhH6U_DgIK3wIZu_ifNNwKin__S9n8cB_0jeYplb7Asos7Dk6J8VXZEUwnfLyYqlGftyQTHd43K2/s400/lm4a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514352603870267298" /></a><br />Prior to his showing up, we'd swapped a number of email messages, and I thought there might be some friend potential, so after he came, we chatted for nearly ninety minutes while lying naked in bed, and that was very nice indeed. Sadly, one of us (not me) thinks that <i>Don Quixote</i> is an absolute masterpiece with two entirely compelling main characters, while the other of us (not him) thinks it's a clever but ultimately pointless exercise in hot air, with no characters worthy of regard. This is the sort of difference of opinion that can be difficult to overcome, but perhaps we can be friends, regardless, or at least it can be a good excuse for me to punish him, which he would probably like.<br /><br />6. My experience with the articulate pig (AP) made me think that what I really want is a small group of guys who get together once a week or once every two weeks for ninety minutes of hot sex followed by ninety minutes of literary discussion, perhaps with snacks. After our session, I expressed this desire to AP, but he agreed with me that it would be very difficult to find any other potential participants who weren't total bottoms. Still, I can't help thinking that <i>The Post-Coital Book Club</i> would make a great title and idea for an erotic novel. I think I'll write it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaseSJk1Nd8iL6AITG004U7kbOvoVgNr6yo-jXIpUBXbeMvgC2-fYdnOA9i1a7-Yp1O59_bx-e1bUgktLqpRqIYTMoJxlkKCmAmwYDLb9dLDIN5vuB7rhEs4VkUCuhgn-PHsDNvkPfvQc/s1600/lm5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 308px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaseSJk1Nd8iL6AITG004U7kbOvoVgNr6yo-jXIpUBXbeMvgC2-fYdnOA9i1a7-Yp1O59_bx-e1bUgktLqpRqIYTMoJxlkKCmAmwYDLb9dLDIN5vuB7rhEs4VkUCuhgn-PHsDNvkPfvQc/s400/lm5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514351577082224994" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-91928790875117989202010-08-24T21:58:00.000-04:002010-08-25T00:12:12.771-04:00The Last Hurrah<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPCKmTzzCXWTfjkzi_7K7oIcSiESKsU_x6UONLNNRmqPqVz-S5p6cDdQAgd2nu9ZctqdjvxHZeSgnWXXdVJps1732Bn7ncKxNw3fsoqNQcC3LogRL-9NM5UH7jqmixgKJe1ydWqmlnn4WW/s1600/aa1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 391px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPCKmTzzCXWTfjkzi_7K7oIcSiESKsU_x6UONLNNRmqPqVz-S5p6cDdQAgd2nu9ZctqdjvxHZeSgnWXXdVJps1732Bn7ncKxNw3fsoqNQcC3LogRL-9NM5UH7jqmixgKJe1ydWqmlnn4WW/s400/aa1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509192794439691618" /></a><br />I was set to pick YFU up from camp this past Friday afternoon, so I'd taken the day off work. I didn't wake up until around 10, and I had to leave for the Bay at around 1, so I probably shouldn't have even bothered looking for a hook-up, but Fridays around noon are a particularly fertile time for such endeavors, so I responded to an ad or two and I got an email back from a guy who said that he'd sucked me off before and was eager to do so again. I said ok before searching for his email address, and then when I did the search, I wasn't entirely sure who he was, but I thought that the previous occasion had probably been only so-so, and I thought that perhaps I should have spent the morning on yard work or something, but when I got out of the shower, there was another email from the guy saying that his date was arriving, so he wouldn't be able to come to my place. I suppose I should give points for honesty, but apparently it's human nature for something you didn't really want to become considerably more attractive just because you can't have it. Fortunately, I'm aware of human nature, and I knew the pique would pass with time. The guy had said that he'd try to email me again when he was done and still hoped to come to my place, but I didn't reply, which almost always puts an end to such things. In my mind, if you tell me you're going to email me again later, I shouldn't have to say anything, but many guys require an inordinate amount of encouragement, which is frankly just exhausting. So there was no sex for me on Friday.<br /><br />It was hard to feel too bad about this, though, since I'd hooked up with at least one guy on probably every day since I'd dropped YFU off at camp. I say probably because it depends on what you consider a day: on the previous Sunday, I'd hooked up in the afternoon, and then I hooked up with two more guys, sequentially, after I'd gone to bed but before I woke up. Typically, I would count these guys as Sunday hook-ups if they'd happened after midnight but before I'd gone to bed, but since they'd both woken me up, sequentially, to fuck them, I'd prefer to count them as Monday, especially since my failure to hook up on Monday evening was almost certainly attributable to having had no more than two hours of sleep the night before. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLKOystJkii01JvXLeSK5lL__z4DiI-puiP-nMgtlnfqewB9_CN7Dl2clX1QRU4WPBHqwMfgd9rg6JQsw4qkj0T_uK77aoxRNcyjgZbdX9wu5hKpUF2CQdUt_WgmnrGws9H8K-GCiC-GB/s1600/aa4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 306px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLKOystJkii01JvXLeSK5lL__z4DiI-puiP-nMgtlnfqewB9_CN7Dl2clX1QRU4WPBHqwMfgd9rg6JQsw4qkj0T_uK77aoxRNcyjgZbdX9wu5hKpUF2CQdUt_WgmnrGws9H8K-GCiC-GB/s400/aa4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509192775359979906" /></a><br />Anyway, here's a brief recap of what went down. Let's go in reverse chronological order (like <i>Memento</i>, but with more sex and less violence):<br /><br />Thursday night was Jeffrey, one of a series of brick-shithouse-built Black men who wanted me to fuck their faces, but didn't want to do much else. Most of them would go along with kissing, and maybe some ass play, but Jeffrey wouldn't let me do much more than twist his nipples. But he did give amazing head, and he got really turned on when I grabbed his head in both hands and shoved it up and down on my cock. After I came, he came, and then he left. It was late, and it probably only lasted half an hour from arrival to departure.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2rpMhXUAl2ncA7fvHVSVe18w5Fq9AIa7skRJNj0HpI7jrmfcohPzF7QOdp1U-Gm3KBv__koEKeuC3iTxE7-2bnxbFeFsqbBB9P_aq3uUisoySRC0DWvkLq6siqpwkcPVoNCQWECkSgeho/s1600/aa5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2rpMhXUAl2ncA7fvHVSVe18w5Fq9AIa7skRJNj0HpI7jrmfcohPzF7QOdp1U-Gm3KBv__koEKeuC3iTxE7-2bnxbFeFsqbBB9P_aq3uUisoySRC0DWvkLq6siqpwkcPVoNCQWECkSgeho/s400/aa5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509192767274697906" /></a><br />Wednesday: Federico is a hot, if slightly garrulous, Costa Rican submissive, whom I'd previously worked over back in the coldest part of winter. He showed up at 6:30, and we spent a couple of very nice hours together. He wanted to make out, have his nips worked, suck my cock, and get fucked hard. I complied. Or maybe I wanted all of those things, and he complied. I reckon it was mutual. Then he told me stories about his life as a party planner, while we cuddled and I gave his nips additional attention. Loads of fun. Two loads, to be exact.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7DUwOB0_OS3i7CNDy8-U5RcEzniefjPYIvcCEKZyNTwIF9tncCGhBFFzBGClYpypsaRZZOahyphenhyphen3fjYhMIoUMC649aofEPw5xf6pRet8mf8tCkvmC577Picv-XdgykyFuq2XFNKCFhK5xl/s1600/ab7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 323px; height: 345px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7DUwOB0_OS3i7CNDy8-U5RcEzniefjPYIvcCEKZyNTwIF9tncCGhBFFzBGClYpypsaRZZOahyphenhyphen3fjYhMIoUMC649aofEPw5xf6pRet8mf8tCkvmC577Picv-XdgykyFuq2XFNKCFhK5xl/s400/ab7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191161997911042" /></a><br />I was pretty much beat after that and wanted nothing more than to sit on the sofa and watch <i>Top Chef</i>, even if this is a weak season, but I got a couple of messages from Bobby, who showed up at 10. After kissing him for a bit, I pushed down on his shoulders, and while I leaned back against the sofa, he started to go down on me, at the same time arching his back so that his crack showed out of the top of his shorts. Then there was a steep upslope to his very full and beautiful ass, all of which was a lovely thing to look at while he was sucking my cock, but I only enjoyed that for a couple of minutes before I needed to have the ass, so I pushed him toward the stairs and then shoved him down on them, lowering his shorts and shoving my tongue right in. <br /><br />Bobby had asked to be able to set up his laptop and watch porn while having both ankles and one wrist tied to the bed, so we tried to do that, but the outlets in my bedroom have two slots, not three, and the plug on his laptop was a three-pronged number, so he had to rely on a couple of minutes of battery power. Probably just as well, since what he wanted to watch was porn of a woman being gang banged. "I want to be her," he said. Oh, what-the-fuck-ever, right?<br /><br />Anyway, the other thing Bobby always wants but never can quite get is to be fisted, and I really just wasn't in the mood to fuck him, so I got some Crisco and started him out on the eighteen-inch, double-headed, thick dildo. He took about thirteen inches. I took pictures, but I promised I wouldn't disseminate them. I could tell from the dildo work that Bobby's ass wasn't as clean as usual (I know, right? Ewww, but it is what it is.), but I went ahead with the fisting, and, well, thank God for latex gloves. He did, finally, take the fist, but he could only take it for a few seconds. I took my fist immediately out of his ass and into the toilet. If you just keep your wits about you, a quick swish, a flush, turning the glove inside out into the trash can, washing your hands, some time with the wipes on your sub's ass, and washing your hands again, maybe twice, makes everything ok. Bobby was apologetic, but also very pleased with himself, especially when I showed him the pictures of his gaping hole. I lay next to him for a while and we made out. That part was nice.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuMmhgVkWjOZ8pHbppIBROnROnSBxJBCzoyZ5pYRI5Mb1feyFdRBrfjJTSRQYA8LGEJ6Io9o4R22fDV2WPXPg20DbXtn5MxkeX6xz1WJAfQzG1nMkBUU0ZFoF0Nh0wG46fgqbasZ8xHCf/s1600/ab6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuMmhgVkWjOZ8pHbppIBROnROnSBxJBCzoyZ5pYRI5Mb1feyFdRBrfjJTSRQYA8LGEJ6Io9o4R22fDV2WPXPg20DbXtn5MxkeX6xz1WJAfQzG1nMkBUU0ZFoF0Nh0wG46fgqbasZ8xHCf/s400/ab6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191169586724930" /></a><br />On Tuesday evening, Shane came over after many weeks of our trying and failing to connect. He was another well-built Black man who wanted to go down on me, but he was also happy to make out and have his nipples worked and get fucked. It was all very good, and after I came all over him, he came all over me. As we were cleaning up, I said, "You have a partner, right?" He seemed a bit nonplussed and then asked, "Did I tell you that?" "No, it's just obvious." And then he was impressed with my mad man-reading skills. Dude. Men all think they're mysterious, but most of them are fully transparent. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT4aNssl1BXIE7ZUYWvhKOSpJNS9sZjVkrathQBRbQFu7Aui3ROcXKhif3KZJWXawzI6oD3RmX4uu97LBCukGdapqPDP5T9uPTeaqyfRhoSlMNd2UnVoQ1ramX8lUGiRZikDp4sPled_on/s1600/ab5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT4aNssl1BXIE7ZUYWvhKOSpJNS9sZjVkrathQBRbQFu7Aui3ROcXKhif3KZJWXawzI6oD3RmX4uu97LBCukGdapqPDP5T9uPTeaqyfRhoSlMNd2UnVoQ1ramX8lUGiRZikDp4sPled_on/s400/ab5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191300537170386" /></a><br />So, call it Sunday night or call it Monday morning. I'd told YB, whose name I can't recall though we've hooked up a couple of times, that he could call me late if he wanted to play, so he called around 1:30 and said he could be over at 2. He is a giant of a Black man, probably 6'4 and possibly 250 pounds of fine, and he loves to kiss. We were in bed until about 5, though about an hour of that was sleeping. It was very hot, yet very comfortable. He has a splendid ass. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekR8L2n9VfydJGp_iw-iMw66w3Tk3R5QI3Tkd41ic45Wp9nXcjnB0RcBZ_o4mGR5PlHPHoh-I1Qi6dRBofBss1dDseuVfLJz8D4vX4eJxfJbFVq8B1HVloLTCLyzEbHQmbkxIgp_r0_ue/s1600/ab1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekR8L2n9VfydJGp_iw-iMw66w3Tk3R5QI3Tkd41ic45Wp9nXcjnB0RcBZ_o4mGR5PlHPHoh-I1Qi6dRBofBss1dDseuVfLJz8D4vX4eJxfJbFVq8B1HVloLTCLyzEbHQmbkxIgp_r0_ue/s400/ab1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191340567609682" /></a><br />While YB and I were fucking, a text message came in from Mark/Craig (that's who he said he was when I said "Who is this?" in response to his first message), and when YB had taken off, I texted him back. He's a very cute, very hairy cub who likely holds off on mansex for as long as he can, and then when he can't any longer, he calls me. By the time he got to my place (6am), he was pretty much a crazed weasel, and when I kissed him, well, let's just say there was no subtlety on his part. I wasted no time getting his ass on the stairs and shoving my tongue up his hole, which made him both more crazed and more weaselish. I was really worked up, so I did push my cock into his crack and over his hole, but I had enough sense not to shove it into him, and soon I had him in bed, and we were making out again. Then onto his nipples. Then he sucked me, I ate his ass more, and I fucked him long and hard in multiple positions, ending up with him astride me, shooting all over my chest as he bounced up and down on my cock. Awesome.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXmRcTNFstspAOv0yxTSzvd1nKc5GAIXEpICz9d0-xRqgUqqv7VlNRaPLt-hEkqrpOPjAq_mqnHmJBdPTfan8RF4AS0YavxWc6FyKQ71_whqPcr9VkbY7wTgfi1-hyFIQkRQzNNYq4IsA/s1600/ab2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXmRcTNFstspAOv0yxTSzvd1nKc5GAIXEpICz9d0-xRqgUqqv7VlNRaPLt-hEkqrpOPjAq_mqnHmJBdPTfan8RF4AS0YavxWc6FyKQ71_whqPcr9VkbY7wTgfi1-hyFIQkRQzNNYq4IsA/s400/ab2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191325017320418" /></a><br />I wasn't going to do anything on Sunday. Since I'd had a guy every day the previous week, I was going to take an on-the-seventh-day-he-rested stand. And that started out fine since I had a friend over for brunch, but then he left, and I got an email from Bruce, and I remembered that my recent string had in fact started on the previous Sunday and an on-the-eighth-day-he-rested position somehow lacked the same poetry, even if it did have the advantage (or perhaps disadvantage, depending on one's point of view) of being less sacrilegious. Bruce is a very fit and funny fifty-something married lawyer who can never quite get my cock into his ass but who is nevertheless a lot of fun in bed. He's a great kisser and can take relatively intense nipple work, and he gives pretty good head, but it's mostly just his intensity I like. Intensity can be a two-edged sword, of course, and when I decided to go down on him a bit because it seemed like a friendly thing to do and because he has a nice, small, suckable cock, he started to fuck my face some. I find that, um, tedious. But whatever. He ended up getting overstimulated, which meant that it took him even longer than me to cum, but that was cool. He's very post-coitally cuddly, especially for a marathoner. Distance runners, and attorneys, have a tendency to be bonier than one might like, especially post-coitally. But not Bruce.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwP5XKBXe4NSd-hk09vyqHcnd6Lmzt7plEWXWkpPolVFdKJFEaPkgbX3ikq3N3hhOPfcKqtVbyKJD5H-2zBbBWFiv8V3aOvchcy7VTvJI8MnRItP9urRSthEOAF-C-ofowTb_VmStK0La/s1600/ab3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwP5XKBXe4NSd-hk09vyqHcnd6Lmzt7plEWXWkpPolVFdKJFEaPkgbX3ikq3N3hhOPfcKqtVbyKJD5H-2zBbBWFiv8V3aOvchcy7VTvJI8MnRItP9urRSthEOAF-C-ofowTb_VmStK0La/s400/ab3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191312850149378" /></a><br />Leo called me Saturday afternoon and said that he wanted to play. I hadn't been in touch with him because he'd told me that his brothers were coming to town for his birthday, but he told me that they understood that he needed his space and that he'd have some time free later. He showed up around six, and one of the first things that he told me was that when he'd told me, at our most recent meeting, that I could bite his nipples as hard as I wanted, he had been mistaken. So I took it down a notch, but I also retorted that he was full of crap for saying that he didn't like kissing when he obviously got into kissing me. He tried to talk his way around it, but I told him that I understood that he was reticent to kiss because it seemed feminine to him and he was afraid of appearing feminine. Yet another guy impressed with my ability to see and state the obvious. Anyway, there was plenty of kissing, and slightly toned down but still intense nipple play, and, of course, I couldn't resist eating his ass while he went down on me. I wouldn't have wanted to resist fucking him, and he obviously wanted it very badly, so I gave it to him. There was post-coital cuddling, and before I knew it, it was 8:00, and he said he was late to meet with his brothers. He was in too much of a hurry to bother searching for his underwear, so he just asked me to hold onto it for him if I found it. I found it in the downstairs couch, which makes sense given that that's where he'd been when I took it off him.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0BijsHYUKKa9MbV8hvP2Cv2jgPpWUMqVfTlUzHDoK5IZt0Q1UynhoxmnL_4zp4WnnFG18IPKAkStWhExBuWxNK4GDh60b1E8r3G-sJ7w5Apy3i7Tig3ZgiAmPPk-FtJwtbzZEh67kz-5/s1600/ab4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0BijsHYUKKa9MbV8hvP2Cv2jgPpWUMqVfTlUzHDoK5IZt0Q1UynhoxmnL_4zp4WnnFG18IPKAkStWhExBuWxNK4GDh60b1E8r3G-sJ7w5Apy3i7Tig3ZgiAmPPk-FtJwtbzZEh67kz-5/s400/ab4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191305520733874" /></a><br />Saturday morning, after a long stream of miscommunication and accident worthy of a screwball comedy, Gunther finally came over. He'd wanted to come over late Friday night, but I had a date with RC, and I was pretty wiped, so I figured a full night's sleep was the best foreplay. It was clear from our correspondence that Gunther wanted more than just sex, but I still grabbed him as soon as he got in the door, around 9. He had to be at work at 1, and I had to be at church at 12:45 to sing at a funeral with the choir, but that still left us almost three hours, and we made full use of it. Gunther, as you might guess, is German and has a delicious accent. Plus he's a great kisser and a very sweet guy. The sex was great, and so was the post-coital cuddling/conversation. I was, in fact, somewhat infatuated with him, so I was glad when he started texting me a couple of days later and it became clear that he was equally infatuated with me. But he works mad hours and there are other complications, so it's probably just as well that my vacation time with YFU is keeping us apart for long enough for the infatuation to cool. There are times in your life when you're just extra vulnerable to the possibility of falling for someone, and if Gunther and I had had lots of time to spend in each other's arms, that would likely have happened already. Assuming things cool in the long time between the hook-up and the first date, it will either be a missed opportunity or a narrow escape. Or maybe both: who knows?<br /><br />RC came over on Friday night, when I was already exhausted from the night before. But he's always fun, and after a couple of hours of necking and nipples, I made him dinner and we hung out for a while. He seems disappointed whenever I don't cum, but he's just going to have to get over that. Besides, dinner was great.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2boNIJqoXDnABoMXp6XIqyVhFl3Efg7WpxbME-tK9n9ZBkTrrZDEU03vl7nZdQfpTPY2ukOzCxML6QI1vNma737Ny8VQKdD0vJlZb2hSlMpV0MFfDJE5hEcH5ZFDE1CMqCtHLbXbuMl8/s1600/aa3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 308px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2boNIJqoXDnABoMXp6XIqyVhFl3Efg7WpxbME-tK9n9ZBkTrrZDEU03vl7nZdQfpTPY2ukOzCxML6QI1vNma737Ny8VQKdD0vJlZb2hSlMpV0MFfDJE5hEcH5ZFDE1CMqCtHLbXbuMl8/s400/aa3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509192782560349970" /></a><br />On Thursday night, Ben came over. He is, once again, a brick-shithouse-built Black man who wants to be fed cock. Except that he also likes to make out, and he has perfect nipples. Perfect as in they like to be worked and perfect as in they're gorgeous. I didn't even realize until an hour in that he really wanted to be fed cock. He wanted to cum, and he told me that would happen if and only if I fucked his face in the position of my choice. Happy to oblige, Ben. He made a big point afterward of telling me to get in touch with him again, but he didn't return my email. Oh well: next!<br /><br />On Wednesday, an inexperienced cubbish married Latino guy came over to play. I am having some trouble recalling the details, but I'm sure that it was a pretty good time despite the evidentness of his inexperience. He's emailed me a couple of times since then to try to arrange a repeat, but our schedules are not a good match. Oh well.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrd85H0AuqTMN97SAG4fgHvSGBHkBegCrOP9uremrddNvPyUrsh9YDd1I0xE_UFQmtkws0s5gV1r8qj9Q0upK3SNYkjZDNlUaBHqwRA4Qr686SWeAyM3zB0H-RpOwShqVn-JMvi45T4u81/s1600/ab8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 269px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrd85H0AuqTMN97SAG4fgHvSGBHkBegCrOP9uremrddNvPyUrsh9YDd1I0xE_UFQmtkws0s5gV1r8qj9Q0upK3SNYkjZDNlUaBHqwRA4Qr686SWeAyM3zB0H-RpOwShqVn-JMvi45T4u81/s400/ab8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191147324472610" /></a><br />On Tuesday night, Shawn, who is certainly among the hottest guys I've ever fucked, was meant to come over to dinner, since I'm trying to add some level of friendship to the hot, hot sex. He was working late, so he had to cancel dinner, and I was bummed, but he called me around midnight to ask what I was doing, and it was obvious that he wanted to be invited over. I really tried hard to resist, because of that whole level-of-friendship thing, but Shawn is like crack to me, so I invited him over. He ended up getting there very late, and then he was a little reticent about getting fucked, but I was really horny and I figured it was a ploy, so I shoved him down on his stomach and slid into him, whereupon he begged for harder. I obliged. Eventually, I put him on his back and bent him in half and pounded away until he could handle no more, and then I put him back on his stomach, and he begged me to cum, which always hurries things along. I may have worn him out. He fell asleep, but woke up quickly and left. I reckon it'll be another three months before I see him again. Maybe longer. Alas.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJkJ-9D7aSycf38mMRZLoeJ4MICbxwwWMe2diyFhaC0NJZ9R01vYDNyT-721IOTzeFgj44KSfgA2bUdBwEVMnJuKf7xTenzFPUs0aaGIa5SYEi5gOiN24V8RpYakEJm-yTM-xo-IgjtZz/s1600/aa2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 271px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJkJ-9D7aSycf38mMRZLoeJ4MICbxwwWMe2diyFhaC0NJZ9R01vYDNyT-721IOTzeFgj44KSfgA2bUdBwEVMnJuKf7xTenzFPUs0aaGIa5SYEi5gOiN24V8RpYakEJm-yTM-xo-IgjtZz/s400/aa2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509192793177491218" /></a><br />On Monday night, Steven, a divorced guy who lives just down the street, finally made it over late. It turns out that his experience had been limited to regular hook-ups with a married friend who had moved away a year or two earlier. There were a lot of things (kissing, having his nipples worked, being rimmed chief among them) that he had not done but now has. He was a pretty good bottom, and he definitely has potential with some additional tutelage, but he's also the sort to freak out after sex. Or even during sex. I had to talk him through a lot of stuff. But at least he had a good time, as did I.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3k35KdmQp7cXrIOhKT80SjZ495-H10qs0STfo3SLGF26L5ePlwKSiyBZFayPsUDoilHe0VC8axFNK5ZFDQ0iT_yPfPLasgxMTZHgTAkdwImqLS7lmJmA3mK0nYxqDAdDFAMSLvZniv5R/s1600/ab9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3k35KdmQp7cXrIOhKT80SjZ495-H10qs0STfo3SLGF26L5ePlwKSiyBZFayPsUDoilHe0VC8axFNK5ZFDQ0iT_yPfPLasgxMTZHgTAkdwImqLS7lmJmA3mK0nYxqDAdDFAMSLvZniv5R/s400/ab9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191132303456754" /></a><br />Anyway, it was a fun week and a half. It's not often that I have so many free evenings and weekends to pursue hooking up, so I try to enjoy it when I can. Especially when I know that I'll be following ten days of play with ten days of abstinence while YFU and I are at home and then traveling together. You have to have as much fun as possible during the good times because the hard times always come again, too. It's all in the Bible:<br /><br /><blockquote>1And it came to pass at the end of two full years, that Pharaoh dreamed: and, behold, he stood by the river. 2And, behold, there came up out of the river seven well favoured kine and fatfleshed; and they fed in a meadow. 3And, behold, seven other kine came up after them out of the river, ill favoured and leanfleshed; and stood by the other kine upon the brink of the river. 4And the ill favoured and leanfleshed kine did eat up the seven well favoured and fat kine. So Pharaoh awoke. 5And he slept and dreamed the second time: and, behold, seven ears of corn came up upon one stalk, rank and good. 6And, behold, seven thin ears and blasted with the east wind sprung up after them. 7And the seven thin ears devoured the seven rank and full ears. And Pharaoh awoke, and, behold, it was a dream. 8And it came to pass in the morning that his spirit was troubled; and he sent and called for all the magicians of Egypt, and all the wise men thereof: and Pharaoh told them his dream; but there was none that could interpret them unto Pharaoh.<br /><br />9Then spake the chief butler unto Pharaoh, saying, I do remember my faults this day: 10Pharaoh was wroth with his servants, and put me in ward in the captain of the guard's house, both me and the chief baker: 11And we dreamed a dream in one night, I and he; we dreamed each man according to the interpretation of his dream. 12And there was there with us a young man, an Hebrew, servant to the captain of the guard; and we told him, and he interpreted to us our dreams; to each man according to his dream he did interpret. 13And it came to pass, as he interpreted to us, so it was; me he restored unto mine office, and him he hanged.<br /><br />14Then Pharaoh sent and called Joseph, and they brought him hastily out of the dungeon: and he shaved himself, and changed his raiment, and came in unto Pharaoh. 15And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, I have dreamed a dream, and there is none that can interpret it: and I have heard say of thee, that thou canst understand a dream to interpret it. 16And Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying, It is not in me: God shall give Pharaoh an answer of peace. 17And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, In my dream, behold, I stood upon the bank of the river: 18And, behold, there came up out of the river seven kine, fatfleshed and well favoured; and they fed in a meadow: 19And, behold, seven other kine came up after them, poor and very ill favoured and leanfleshed, such as I never saw in all the land of Egypt for badness: 20And the lean and the ill favoured kine did eat up the first seven fat kine: 21And when they had eaten them up, it could not be known that they had eaten them; but they were still ill favoured, as at the beginning. So I awoke. 22And I saw in my dream, and, behold, seven ears came up in one stalk, full and good: 23And, behold, seven ears, withered, thin, and blasted with the east wind, sprung up after them: 24And the thin ears devoured the seven good ears: and I told this unto the magicians; but there was none that could declare it to me.<br /><br />25And Joseph said unto Pharaoh, The dream of Pharaoh is one: God hath shewed Pharaoh what he is about to do. 26The seven good kine are seven years; and the seven good ears are seven years: the dream is one. 27And the seven thin and ill favoured kine that came up after them are seven years; and the seven empty ears blasted with the east wind shall be seven years of famine. 28This is the thing which I have spoken unto Pharaoh: What God is about to do he sheweth unto Pharaoh. 29Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt: 30And there shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt; and the famine shall consume the land; 31And the plenty shall not be known in the land by reason of that famine following; for it shall be very grievous. </blockquote><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqr7YRQtOKDcbAh804x9GOHnDw7Gt-DohZNRhcuPKcWw2SUTtZMnaX-d7gqVNMJIFJm87-vc_DCqYxWyEOuJ0caWlEwcEEeu9xxgXfD11vTisgIRIIYJoZCO9pOMar0dp7Bl85mkfLmkt/s1600/ab10.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqr7YRQtOKDcbAh804x9GOHnDw7Gt-DohZNRhcuPKcWw2SUTtZMnaX-d7gqVNMJIFJm87-vc_DCqYxWyEOuJ0caWlEwcEEeu9xxgXfD11vTisgIRIIYJoZCO9pOMar0dp7Bl85mkfLmkt/s400/ab10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509191122008149938" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-82727976472343210612010-08-14T10:21:00.000-04:002010-08-15T01:58:27.622-04:00Leo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyhnnwZI48RNaaUuS4XEsiAvhv7KNr5ai1J99Nb1KI6thxa4TCP5sljF2WHZba7rgmcL66wZOhLLVB6dowdSXUegwVZbDWbEbhyphenhyphenZCbSDag-BvMqeYNhjQYshcKupY7jnmdy3DJVmYhiIw/s1600/lhm1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyhnnwZI48RNaaUuS4XEsiAvhv7KNr5ai1J99Nb1KI6thxa4TCP5sljF2WHZba7rgmcL66wZOhLLVB6dowdSXUegwVZbDWbEbhyphenhyphenZCbSDag-BvMqeYNhjQYshcKupY7jnmdy3DJVmYhiIw/s400/lhm1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505511363173346418" /></a><br />On Sunday, YFU was off to camp, so we did some last minute shopping, and then I drove about an hour down to the Bay, where a succession of strapping Australian lads directed us to the dining hall for check-in, and after signing forms and standing in lines, I took YFU and her stuff to her cabin, where her counselor was so obviously Scottish that I didn't even bother to ask. She, of course, was not a strapping lad, but there were plenty of those to pass by on the way out, and whether because of that or just because I was still breathing, I was nearly instantly horny, so I sent a message to Leo. I'd told Leo that I'd be available Sunday night, but I figured by the time I got back home, I'd still have a couple of hours before I was due to meet up with a friend for dinner and/or a movie. I also figured that I didn't want to have to either rush dinner or forgo a movie, so it'd be better to have sex sooner than later. Plus, it's always better to have sex sooner because then you might have another chance to have sex later, right?<br /><br />Anyway, Leo got back to me about the time I got home and said that he could be over in about an hour, which still left us about an hour to play. He showed up about fifteen minutes later than he'd thought he would, but you can do a lot in forty-five minutes, right? Right.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRSkkgdypIRn3np3akROYHhFmQVLS6jm3ipBY93Lr-mvucOjSYFJLt9MWFtUR5Erw8Z8uZoufCIN-bGZs166MUwu1D8cAd11_Rwju6dnlf8XKu18p-6T9kGBpurp1MpxqLRmLwaCOYYSUp/s1600/lhm4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRSkkgdypIRn3np3akROYHhFmQVLS6jm3ipBY93Lr-mvucOjSYFJLt9MWFtUR5Erw8Z8uZoufCIN-bGZs166MUwu1D8cAd11_Rwju6dnlf8XKu18p-6T9kGBpurp1MpxqLRmLwaCOYYSUp/s400/lhm4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505511348867920642" /></a><br />Leo is a hot, closeted, early thirties guy from Trinidad, and for a while I'd figured that our first session, a couple of weeks earlier, would be our last. We'd had a great time, but he'd first texted me to say that he wanted to get together again soon, and later he'd emailed me to say that we probably shouldn't hook up again because he really didn't like to kiss, and he could tell from our first time that I really liked to kiss. Well, yes, although I had to wonder about him not liking kissing because a) he hadn't complained, and b) he's really good at it. The big plump lips help, of course, but he also had more than solid technique working. When I got the email, I'd nearly sighed and put him out of my mind, but he's a truly fascinating person and the sort of guy who would be entertaining to have as a friend though probably not to date, and, well, he was flattered me shamelessly, so I wrote back and told him that we could manage without kissing. Perhaps to explain my behavior I should mention that he gives pretty good head and is an awesome fuck. He gives pretty good head and is an awesome fuck.<br /><br />Anyway, he was thrilled to get my response and eager to get together Sunday, so when he arrived, I just grabbed his nipples instead of kissing him, and he grabbed my crotch, and we took it from there. He wanted to exchange pleasantries, so I walked him over to the couch and ran my hands up under his shirt while we chatted. Then I pulled the shirt off him and started to suck on his nipple, and he said, "You can bite hard, TED. I'm a man."<br /><br />Dude.<br /><br />I was going to tell him to be careful what he wished for, but I was too busy chomping down hard on his nipples, and he was too busy gritting his teeth so as not to recant what he'd foolishly said. He took it like a champ, for sure, and after another minute or so of hard nip work, I pushed him towards the stairs, stopping him halfway up to pull down his sweatpants, spread his cheeks, and bury my tongue in his ass. Apparently, that's my new thing. It does seem to set a mood.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3a2hL1zCfcqlgZKhrExVBQUqVLru6d5cLmmYDy23bKY3-AdcU-1vRy3pCmbQBaPWnLcU9ysTQni_6_m1zk9bWjYwiiWXv6YFNZtE2bjrj34162gu-iitIffTbwJEEfU9dhGv6X8mITwnR/s1600/lhm3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3a2hL1zCfcqlgZKhrExVBQUqVLru6d5cLmmYDy23bKY3-AdcU-1vRy3pCmbQBaPWnLcU9ysTQni_6_m1zk9bWjYwiiWXv6YFNZtE2bjrj34162gu-iitIffTbwJEEfU9dhGv6X8mITwnR/s400/lhm3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505511348581886146" /></a><br />Pretty soon, we were in bed, and I was very much enjoying watching Leo regret the whole you-can-bite-hard-TED-I'm-a-man statement while remaining too proud to retract it. I eased off a bit after a while, so that it was intense but still pleasurable for him, and then, since I wasn't supposed to kiss him, I started, licking along his jawline and sucking lightly on his neck, at which point, he said, somewhat breathlessly, "You can leave a mark if you want. I have no one to answer to."<br /><br />Dude.<br /><br />I mean, really? I mean, his skin's pretty dark, so I guess it doesn't show up the way it would if you gave a redhead, say, a hickey, but, well, let's not pretend that I spent too much time thinking about it at the time because I am not one to decline a polite invitation: I latched on. Marks were left. And then nipples were again gnawed. <br /><br />But there was only so much time, so I let him start to go down on me, and, well, I'm very grateful to any eager cocksucker, but in the overall scheme of things I think that avoiding teeth is more important than being able to deep throat. Still and all, when he had my cock entirely buried and his teeth were lightly scraping my shaft, it was quite pleasant, perhaps largely because my tongue was buried in his ass and the moaning was plentiful.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3qoiQyBDe8j8aVvA0-K4OfQsqQvSnBWH2DM2xcnE4MmNxpEuwBWwHK4pZFdBVmUByRaHIRd7oTWK_6TTQrkI0FHvjPiaYi2TAgu3TiHI8pyFzS4r_1mcQv7k04m9yvh8KvY_zyWdJV6A/s1600/lhm2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 306px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3qoiQyBDe8j8aVvA0-K4OfQsqQvSnBWH2DM2xcnE4MmNxpEuwBWwHK4pZFdBVmUByRaHIRd7oTWK_6TTQrkI0FHvjPiaYi2TAgu3TiHI8pyFzS4r_1mcQv7k04m9yvh8KvY_zyWdJV6A/s400/lhm2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505511358932263506" /></a><br />Again, though, there was only so much time, and Leo appreciates a hard and thorough pounding, so I handed him the supplies, and he condomed and lubed me and then sat on my cock, reverse cowboy. This is not really my favorite position, since the guy is looking the other way, making access to the nipples problematic, but I knew he wouldn't be in that position for long, so I just grabbed his flanks and gave a few thrusts to open him up fully, and then I told him to get on his back, grabbed his ankles, pushed them up near his ears, and plunged into him again. It was very fast and very hard, and here again I could see the macho-bottom dynamic come into play, and he refused to complain about the pain while the pain-to-pleasure ratio was unfavorable. In a minute, of course, the ratio became more favorable, and then there was nothing to complain about. <br /><br />When I needed a break (hey, it happens), I lay next to him and started working on his neck again while I played with his cock (which never seems to get soft, no matter how hard I plow him: go Leo), and then I started kissing him because, well, who needs a reason? He didn't resist; in fact, he participated willingly, and I laughed and told him I didn't believe him when he said that he didn't like kissing, at which point he admitted that his objections were more philosophical than practical, and we made out some more. <br /><br />We were running out of time (who could have seen that coming?) so I put some lube on his cock and stroked him off as I kissed him. He wanted me to cum, but I told him that time limitations didn't allow it. Which was true, even if I was also saving my cum for the next day, and a sub who lives for the big load. I cleaned him up, and we chatted for a while, and he got dressed and left. I cleaned up a bit, got dressed, and headed out to meet my friend for dinner. We had burgers at a cafe and then went to see <i>The Kids Are Alright</i>, which was very good, the inherent lack of appeal of lesbian sex to gay menLeo notwithstanding. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyO8_OR2P5Kt8yi7Et0l5ZdiuG_9pq0gvqps8zNry80yLRqum2vP2EpNukoBt_y1abhkpg6x5hYGVTgBAx1kO5rvmjPCtdXlmFsSP4lPzkSkxeSnieuSgAVP_qWzJu-v3jDymZHECH_8B/s1600/lhm5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyO8_OR2P5Kt8yi7Et0l5ZdiuG_9pq0gvqps8zNry80yLRqum2vP2EpNukoBt_y1abhkpg6x5hYGVTgBAx1kO5rvmjPCtdXlmFsSP4lPzkSkxeSnieuSgAVP_qWzJu-v3jDymZHECH_8B/s400/lhm5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505511340292424642" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-30534912129080048492010-08-09T01:11:00.000-04:002010-08-09T09:50:38.381-04:00Rubbed<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZzFnwlKLZ34pXN1dO8AXTAUFZAM74WMZiIy4C46WOwJTNkxWjIBni8UgdwQTrNv1q4d39XJlr3Qr6rWdiyMuNZByMSP4VwPToum78xHV5UQGrtCy8TarHeH3xHroUESU7WKyvt_nTNqM/s1600/lock1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZzFnwlKLZ34pXN1dO8AXTAUFZAM74WMZiIy4C46WOwJTNkxWjIBni8UgdwQTrNv1q4d39XJlr3Qr6rWdiyMuNZByMSP4VwPToum78xHV5UQGrtCy8TarHeH3xHroUESU7WKyvt_nTNqM/s400/lock1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502160294169926050" /></a><br />I was doing nothing much this past Thursday night. I had been busy getting EFU ready to go off for a ten-month stay in New Hampshire and was still trying to get YFU ready for a two-week stay at camp, and I still had to gather ingredients for the soup that I was driving 2.5 hours (each way) to make. There was, you see, a family reunion scheduled for this past weekend, and since my parents are too ill to travel from Florida and neither my brother nor my sister would be there (the reunion is for the descendants of my great grandfather), I would have skipped it, but YFU had originally expressed interest in going, and, more to the point, my father had asked me to go and "represent the family." Apparently representing the family means making soup, at least in my case. At least it's something I'm qualified to do.<br /><br />Anyway, the extended family is both politically and religiously conservative, and I'm closeted to almost all of them, so the trip wasn't something I was looking forward to, so when George popped up online saying hello, I figured I'd offer him a massage. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfd9bYIM0y7uIgE7zhvbzWM3J2uE7vSLwzr4UmgAWPDtl0ud2iR5tOnzQtIfbgcm8U4_K6EhHmj6uvukbIHlvtZn_yJY77fpI2LNCnfw88LRUxXDI3QXR2lUDxne-c7qLSEuvs0B1149j/s1600/lock2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfd9bYIM0y7uIgE7zhvbzWM3J2uE7vSLwzr4UmgAWPDtl0ud2iR5tOnzQtIfbgcm8U4_K6EhHmj6uvukbIHlvtZn_yJY77fpI2LNCnfw88LRUxXDI3QXR2lUDxne-c7qLSEuvs0B1149j/s400/lock2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502160284523995554" /></a><br />George is an early fifties guy with a handsome face and an incredible head of salt and pepper hair. He's also the first guy I gave a somewhat serious massage to. He gave me some pointers after that first one, and I've been happy to rub him down ever since, not least because he likes to kiss while he's being worked on. So I headed down to his place, which is a cool, old house on a hill in Northeast. It's surrounded by a disheveled garden that's always fun to walk through. George let me in, and we made out for a while in the entryway. That's something we hadn't really done in the past, and between that and some other subtle signals I'd picked up from him when we'd chatted, I figured he might be up for a bit of a romp as well as a rub. On the other hand, he'd mentioned being exhausted (construction on his street at 4am), and I was pretty sure from past massages that he was an unreformed top, so it was a mixed bag. Still, he's handsome and fit and kisses well and has nice lips and is of Argentine descent, (Argentine parents but raised in New York by Irish nuns and priests, he told me. He has a faint and undecipherable and very sexy accent.) so why not, right?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbZy40gjWuuooqCkOqAX7PHlTuiSaGMgP6bFdVZyeOpD2Xf3iYwxe1rAEjhVVIG5VDf_wPxf2Gk-ryauH0C4nWO3oFUlwmx6GrwVkX2L-_g7MQZNhat2sgcm0Ll9wcuFDEkg-EKXvoKuQ/s1600/lock3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 369px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbZy40gjWuuooqCkOqAX7PHlTuiSaGMgP6bFdVZyeOpD2Xf3iYwxe1rAEjhVVIG5VDf_wPxf2Gk-ryauH0C4nWO3oFUlwmx6GrwVkX2L-_g7MQZNhat2sgcm0Ll9wcuFDEkg-EKXvoKuQ/s400/lock3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502160280905835074" /></a><br />But first the massage, of course. We went upstairs, and he took off the rest of his clothes, put on something that sounded like Latin jazz (I heard two different versions of "Summertime" while I was working on him), and lay on his stomach.<br /><br />I had remembered, on a mental level, how much I like giving massage, but experiencing it again on a tactile and visceral level gave me some combination of longing and belonging that I really can't go so long without having again. I worked on him for about an hour, and he moved in and out of wakefulness, I think. I didn't ask, and after a few moans and telling me how wonderful the feeling was, he went silent. The music was very conducive to the flow of the situation, and it was just good, so good. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYFPpVz688ckLka7Tb69sEReQ2OPrHc_n8NFNI9eUnLgf_wvPyNEMXnKfIvRe6YooxKj2Lyzwe7PIHGE589fu8dffuZPA7VOJ4ew84iFoOkEYbZPTgg-AHod-Y9BnEhMyDgKZ9Pzsh_J2W/s1600/lock4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYFPpVz688ckLka7Tb69sEReQ2OPrHc_n8NFNI9eUnLgf_wvPyNEMXnKfIvRe6YooxKj2Lyzwe7PIHGE589fu8dffuZPA7VOJ4ew84iFoOkEYbZPTgg-AHod-Y9BnEhMyDgKZ9Pzsh_J2W/s400/lock4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502160273380786194" /></a><br />At some point, I had him on his back and was working his scalp and temples and kissing him, and I'd thoroughly worked both his dorsal and ventral sides, and I suggested that we move to the bed. He seemed a little nonplussed, but he recovered quickly and agreed. And it soon became apparent that he was indeed a) exhausted, and b) an unreformed top. So I ended up giving him a little head (he has rather a fascinating uncut cock that is on the small side, so it's just what I like for sucking) and then stroking him off while we made out. It was fine, but it was a little bit of a let down after the awesome massage. Plus, it made me horny, and he was obviously in no condition to reciprocate. And, probably, he never does anyway. So I went home and jerked off, which was also fine, and more than a little volcanic.<br /><br />George was clearly wiped when he'd cum, so I told him he should get some sleep and suggested that we should try to not make it so long between sessions again. He said he'd like that but that he was about to go on vacation for a month. I reminded him that it'd been probably a year since I last massaged him, so a month was really nothing. I'm not sure he was entirely coherent at that point. He'd been too tired to put his clothes on and had walked me downstairs naked and then we'd kissed goodbye for a bit in his doorway. <br /><br />I think I want to go back to separating sex and massage. They push different buttons, and I get plenty of the former and almost none of the latter these days, so when I finally get the massage table set up in my house, I should probably concentrate on giving some without getting off. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjywWDFiQe4MECHOqlUUqGx3YmN3ScChyf63L0RxExkS2POZC-FosMmrMcgUESiCOjRoHAAkUTh5yE9BNItCg0Ev8-CuECFRorzm6RJIhLl4Ww6JGn2mEN8JnQcLf7ZgRzVXdMEzD1Oqmrv/s1600/lock5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjywWDFiQe4MECHOqlUUqGx3YmN3ScChyf63L0RxExkS2POZC-FosMmrMcgUESiCOjRoHAAkUTh5yE9BNItCg0Ev8-CuECFRorzm6RJIhLl4Ww6JGn2mEN8JnQcLf7ZgRzVXdMEzD1Oqmrv/s400/lock5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502160266866724514" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-16016371846668438692010-08-04T23:34:00.000-04:002010-08-05T00:07:44.276-04:00The Men Who Don't Get Any<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58XWKNDXHGuolE2P6TPpf0YyhPa7RBSTNwKYamk400KnNBWdmVLwDVkfzhitEbgDjVtIOtKzuwvUQ_ncozm9brdLQ7dELY_CgojhtuHvVw2-qte1xFlbcM9xveJSRAYoh4axAEBUv2BRb/s1600/ass1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58XWKNDXHGuolE2P6TPpf0YyhPa7RBSTNwKYamk400KnNBWdmVLwDVkfzhitEbgDjVtIOtKzuwvUQ_ncozm9brdLQ7dELY_CgojhtuHvVw2-qte1xFlbcM9xveJSRAYoh4axAEBUv2BRb/s400/ass1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501771681399648050" /></a><br />I don't mean me, of course: I continue to fuck up a storm at every available opportunity. Opportunities have been somewhat less common of late what with the return of EFU from New England and her propensity to decide at the last minute that she wants to stay at my place. I am always happy to have her over, of course, but I have had to cancel a lot of fucks at almost the last minute, and I dislike doing that. Anyway, the somewhat less frequent opportunities just mean that I take advantage of the chances that I do have, which is probably why after dropping the girls off at their mother's house late this past Saturday afternoon, I had four guys over (separately) before I slept. I did rest on the (Christian) sabbath, however. <br /><br />This post isn't about those four guys, really, and those four guys were mostly not especially memorable except for the twenty-four year old with a girlfriend who hadn't had sex with a man in over eight months. I asked him why, and he said he'd just been too busy. And when I said, "Too busy to fuck?" he said that he just hadn't been looking. That was when I asked him whether he has a girlfriend, and he said he did. It seems like all of the twenty-somethings who want me to fuck them have girlfriends and get cock rarely if at all. I can always tell that they wrestle with shame over our encounters, and that bothers me a little bit, but it doesn't bother me very much if the desire overbalances the shame and, critically, so long as they kiss well and eagerly. Saturday's particular twenty-something was a great kisser (he appeared to be half-Asian, and he had really nice lips to go with a smooth body and straight black hair that was long enough to grab onto when I was fucking him from behind), but he was very nervous, and after we'd made out and I'd worked his nipples, and he'd gone down on me, and I'd eaten his ass, and I'd fucked him in three positions for about fifteen minutes, ending with him on his back and panting "fuck me" as I plowed hard into him, when I took a brief break, he excused himself to go to the bathroom and then came back and said he was sorry but that he had to leave because he was feeling light headed and because my dick was just too thick for him to take. He'd been taking it like a champ, and really, he'd been enough fun that I could have just let him go without worrying about it (especially given that I'd had two guys before him), but I talked him back onto the bed and asked him whether his light-headedness was from being nervous, and when he said it was, I started playing with his cock, and fifteen minutes later or so, he came all over his chest as I was kissing him and stroking his lubed dick. It was awesome, but I won't ever see him again, probably not even in eight months when his need again overcomes his shame: he drove all the way around the beltway from Northern Virginia, and surely he can enjoy a guilty rendez-vous closer to home next time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikP5TbUyezOvsnLrdWcBi9aOmqGChsuO9uCswCDsZfEagzXY0TVBaHmnvfVGpB3KRTIkcRCgq8AhaFYTAuX244IU488JxVbPEFdouz69_nmoL06bZDunBuBUHm_ZfpA0s7W4axt-kLJbLY/s1600/ass2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikP5TbUyezOvsnLrdWcBi9aOmqGChsuO9uCswCDsZfEagzXY0TVBaHmnvfVGpB3KRTIkcRCgq8AhaFYTAuX244IU488JxVbPEFdouz69_nmoL06bZDunBuBUHm_ZfpA0s7W4axt-kLJbLY/s400/ass2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501771560286326466" /></a><br />Eight months is such a common response that I hear when I ask someone how long it's been since he got any that I sometimes wonder whether people are making it up. I'm pretty sure that Raul was being honest when he said that. A week or so ago, he and I finally got together after some back and forth on one of the sites where men go to connect with other men in some way that usually involves the removal of clothing. Raul lives with his nieces, and, as far as I can tell, he's both fully closeted and fully gay. Not having had sex with anyone in eight months (unless he said two years, which is another very common response among men who want me to fuck them) made him extremely responsive, and when I picked him up from the Metro station (after much difficulty finding him: he was not able to get to the station nearest me because of a downed wire or some such, and I had to go a few stations away, where the possible places for someone to be were much more plentiful), on the ride back to my house, I stroked his closely cropped hair, and he moaned and sighed like the proverbial man finding water after a stay in the desert. He was equally responsive throughout our very intense session, so I naturally followed up, and he agreed to come over again last night. <br /><br />Because of where he lives and because of the layout of the Red Line, I suggested that he meet me at my office building and we drive to my place from there. He texted me at the scheduled meeting time to say he was running late, he arrived half an hour late, and then we spent another half-hour in the car with one of my hands lightly stroking various uncovered and covered parts of his anatomy. By the time we got home, I was nearly wild with desire, and after kissing him deeply but briefly, I started him up the stairs, but then I stopped him halfway up by pulling his shorts and briefs down, bending him in half, and burying my tongue in his ass. He moaned and then shouted, and I pretty much lost control: I had my shoes, pants, underwear, and shirt off within thirty seconds, and then I stood up, pushed him down against the stairs, and shoved my cock straight into him. No lube, no condom, and I very likely would have fucked him to completion right there and in record time if he hadn't stopped me because the stairs were hurting his knee, which he'd banged up playing soccer. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBw3FXNbkNdUZrZ3koRE7EUs5-R6yVXRNJh6kUAYJPF5Ula035g6dnObssDrjONVp0gkJk_LGagVEjFqMcdcH1oMi0gW5eDc_gDQMNMyFUVFm_orD2BxVX0LDFE-aX50z73LoVHdB4T0o1/s1600/ass3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBw3FXNbkNdUZrZ3koRE7EUs5-R6yVXRNJh6kUAYJPF5Ula035g6dnObssDrjONVp0gkJk_LGagVEjFqMcdcH1oMi0gW5eDc_gDQMNMyFUVFm_orD2BxVX0LDFE-aX50z73LoVHdB4T0o1/s400/ass3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501771557236728466" /></a><br />I was nonplussed at my inability to control myself, so I took a deep breath and directed him to the bedroom, and we went back to making out. I was keeping myself in check pretty well, but I'd unleashed an equal amount of hunger in him, and his kisses were nearly attacks. Incredibly hot attacks, but still. I shoved his head down to my cock, and he took it all the way down. I pulled his body around and began to eat his ass again, and it was all wild animal sex from there on, though I did get a condom on before I pounded him in various positions. I ended up with him on his stomach, and me jackhammering him until ejaculation was imminent before pulling out, stripping off the condom, and shooting a huge load all up and down his spine. I wiped it off, and we slept, intertwined, for a while before I drove him to the Metro. He was very happy.<br /><br />Raul seems to want to be a regular, but we'll just have to see how that plays out. I've become aware that my emotions (Let alone my libido, but before the safe-sex police take me into custody, can we acknowledge that nobody's perfect in that area and that limited amounts of risk can sometimes be acceptable, or at least that the occasional slip-up doesn't mean you're evil; my sources inform me that while unprotected topping is significantly less risky than unprotected bottoming, it is not without risk, but of course the risk varies depending on whom you're fucking, and I evaluate Raul to be very low risk. That doesn't mean I'd do the same thing again, it just means that a very occasional lapse doesn't automatically lead to either hell or seroconversion.) are not entirely secure these days. I've been single for a little while now, and while I still am very much not looking for a partner, the idea of meeting someone available, interested, compatible, and irresistible seems not quite unwelcome, even if the likelihood of such an occurrence strikes me as highly remote. The practical upshot of this is a tendency to infer someone's moral, emotional, and intellectual worth from how good of a lay he is.<br /><br />I am reminded of a passage in a book. I can't remember the title or the author of the book, only that it was a sort of crime novel or murder mystery set in a university in England. And in this book, there was a singularly unpleasant woman who was married to a sad sack academic who had mistaken her for a person of artistic death because of one thing she had said to him. He had met her in some hall or other in the college, and in this room there were many statues of old academics and she had said something very much like, "When no one's looking, do you suppose they dance?" And from this one glimmer, which turned out to be both a rehearsed line and a solitary example, he extrapolated a person who was much more interesting and expansive of spirit than was the woman who'd uttered the line. Similarly, after a particularly good lay, I will often take any little nugget of conversation to indicate someone really worth getting to know on a non-horizontal basis. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9tei3hQgEAR7z4wBunF50Y805m3vzZkKGndXs6qGn0j41xgWpfq2KCNyIeI_BuMfjqB8FYbzyQiyx3m5BCTvTO0lJbaI52swhyphenhyphenuLaGEkBY4daTpbbXBOgnvl7Zh09RBrwC-YIGUqPKaH/s1600/ass4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9tei3hQgEAR7z4wBunF50Y805m3vzZkKGndXs6qGn0j41xgWpfq2KCNyIeI_BuMfjqB8FYbzyQiyx3m5BCTvTO0lJbaI52swhyphenhyphenuLaGEkBY4daTpbbXBOgnvl7Zh09RBrwC-YIGUqPKaH/s400/ass4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501771549238896498" /></a><br />Fortunately, I recognize the error for what it is and move on quickly. If there's one word that I'm intimately familiar with, it's "Next!"<br /><br />Anyway, Raul's moment of depth involved a description of how he enjoys visiting churches and photographing gargoyles. It sounded nice, but it's not much. Fortunately, what he wants from me is mostly physical, and he kisses well and has a great ass.<br /><br />After Raul left, I had to juggle a bit because there's a recently divorced bottom who lives just down the street from me, and I'd implied that I would probably be able to fuck him late last night. At the same time, OA had been texting me and had said that he wanted to come over. I hadn't heard from OA in a few weeks, and we hadn't hooked up in well over a month. He has a fraternity brother crashing at his (very small) apartment, so he can't host, and the last time I invited him over, he had a family emergency (real or not) come up, and he sort of blew me off, so I was being disciplined and not calling him. It's not as if there aren't other men to play with. It's just that there aren't any men as hot as he is, so when he texted and said he had been unavailable because of his houseguest and told me how much he missed "chillin out" with me, well, I could hardly avoid asking him over. But he only said that he could probably make it, and then I didn't hear from him for a while, and the recently divorced bottom was sounding hornier and hornier, and the FWP that I was developing within walking distance had just ended his lease and moved out of the area, so I really could use another, RC's availability being as limited as ever (though I did finally fuck him, and that was very good indeed), so I told him I should be available later, and then OA finally texted me back to say that he was on his way over, leaving me to apologize to recently divorced, who took it pretty well, all things considered.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj39zYXkSScdHgeAThmBd3i4SsJ6GTaCiGDe-S8ufNQQx1-683eDLtpG9z_6FkAhDUFhXgCIUgeSIH6431lsfQRXnDwx8YmjwDu199P9rzbpdYrf0TCnWemk4PUMOccW7OyTjsC6brdav6n/s1600/ass5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj39zYXkSScdHgeAThmBd3i4SsJ6GTaCiGDe-S8ufNQQx1-683eDLtpG9z_6FkAhDUFhXgCIUgeSIH6431lsfQRXnDwx8YmjwDu199P9rzbpdYrf0TCnWemk4PUMOccW7OyTjsC6brdav6n/s400/ass5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501771546235605810" /></a><br />The session with OA was hot hot hot, as it always is. He was even more revved up than usual: apparently having a straight frat brother stay at his apartment was seriously keeping him from getting any, and after we went through the usual pleasantries and had chatted for a bit, I pushed him back on the sofa and kissed his soft sweet lips long and deep before taking him upstairs (he's the only guy who follows me up the stairs: I still won't let him fuck me, but I suppose I can give him something) for a couple of hours of amazing sex. It was less urgent and animalistic than was the sex with Raul, but it was certainly no less passionate.<br /><br />OA worked really hard trying to get me off orally (he says that my cock is the only one he likes to suck: this is likely true since I'm sure he just fucks most other guys after they go down on him), but even if I hadn't cum so forcefully with Raul, he wouldn't have had success. It was an awesome blowjob, though, even without a sticky finale. I went down on him, too, and I was determined to get him to blow a load that way, but he wouldn't let me finish him off. I figured he should be able to cum twice, but he figured it differently and made me stop. Eventually, after back and forth and back and forth and back and forth a few more times even, I was lying on the bed, and he was kneeling over me, and we were kissing, and he was holding our cocks together and stroking them, and he came, hard. And then it was late, so he only collapsed for a couple of minutes before jumping up and leaving. It was well past midnight, so I couldn't blame him, except perhaps for having driven through DC on the way to my place, rather than having taken the beltway, which would have gotten him to me probably half an hour earlier. Anyway, I explained to him the better way back to his place, and he was gone. Who knows when I'll see him again, but that I will see him again is not to be doubted.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWd9owa7UL5dWkIG1qN185VL6LMAo0HInFIYnPuK2mzXMvT12_KbrglfDZf7HJHiRhIXwDA0qrcxGUFheYJa8OqHoMcjwuGsm_o5YtAPY4C3zt1l7OLsNPcSXwuZDMKcatAsahSqmwOR2q/s1600/ass6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 398px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWd9owa7UL5dWkIG1qN185VL6LMAo0HInFIYnPuK2mzXMvT12_KbrglfDZf7HJHiRhIXwDA0qrcxGUFheYJa8OqHoMcjwuGsm_o5YtAPY4C3zt1l7OLsNPcSXwuZDMKcatAsahSqmwOR2q/s400/ass6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501771544560134450" /></a>TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080750207800492571.post-23834166630402754512010-06-21T09:48:00.004-04:002010-06-21T12:44:01.304-04:00Still Plowing AwayMy bed, which has been showing signs of weakness ever since I moved it to the new house last fall, finally broke and collapsed a couple of weeks ago while I had pounding some married guy about as hard as I know how to fuck, which is pretty hard. He was asking for more, but I'm not sure what he had in mind was the sound of wood cracking and the much louder sound of wood slats falling through their supports. I put the bed back together, finished him off, sent him on his way, and wondered what to do about my bed.<br /><br />The odd thing is that that particular encounter had started off as a threeway, but there were only two of us on the bed when it went. The third was Pedro, who had been bugging me for months to arrange another group outing for him. On the one hand, I found his habit of treating me like his cruise director a little bit grating, but he's a reliable and versatile performer, and his particular brand of frottage is rare and especially fun. Or at least it was. Despite repeated texts asking me when there would be more group fun, when married guy asked whether I could arrange a threeway -- something he'd never experienced -- and I relayed the request to Pedro, Pedro said he wanted to play but that I couldn't fuck him because he'd been dating someone. I didn't really care about that, but I was a little miffed when he showed up and said I couldn't kiss him because "I'm dating someone." Still, married guy was upstairs waiting, so I didn't send Pedro on his way. Pedro sent himself on his way about five minutes after he got naked, saying that he was sorry but he didn't feel right about this because he was dating someone. At that point, I had married guy's nipple in my mouth, so I didn't say anything: I just waved goodbye to Pedro as he left the bedroom. Honestly, when I'm sucking or chewing nip, I really don't want to think about anything else, but in retrospect, I think Pedro was something of a tool, though I'm also cognizant of the fact that his desire to remain exclusive is not entirely charmless. I think that someday I wouldn't mind having a relationship where I could say, "Can we see each other exclusively for a few months before we open the relationship?" Don't let anybody tell you that I'm not a romantic.<br /><br />Anyway, I disassembled the bed, leaving most of it leaning up against the wall, the wrist restraints still dangling from ropes and the bed corners, and I put the platform slats and mattress down on the floor for a while. I found the transition from vertical to horizontal somewhat more awkward with a bed on the floor, but once a guy was down there, fucking him was pretty much the same as it had been fifteen inches higher. Still, I wanted a new bed. I knew it would be irresponsible to buy the <a href="http://www.instructables.com/id/Aluminum-Pipe-Bed/">pipe bed of my dreams</a>, and I didn't want to buy a bed that I didn't really love, so I decided to build my own. (The relevant phrase, which I read on Apartment Therapy, is something like "Buy things you love, throw junk away, make it yourself.") I did some research and came up with my own very simple plan that reused the platform slats from the last bed. It ended up costing me almost $200, but eighty percent of that was spent on power tools that I can use for other projects and that give me additional butch cred. Not only is the new bed very sturdy (it's basically a bunch of 2x4s bolted together), but I was able to add a couple of special features, most notably eye bolts on the corners and at the center of foot of the bed, to make it easier to tie guys down.<br /><br />Anyway, I assembled the bed last Monday, but then a combination of kids, car trouble (again), and sundry other mundane tribulations conspired to keep me from field testing it until this weekend. And not even Friday night, when I had a date with RC, though that was certainly plenty of fun. Saturday morning, I had the initial test with a guy whom I managed to bring off through skillful nipple play. It was a very early hook-up, and after he came, I fell asleep for about an hour. He was very cuddly. Later in the day, I had a fun group session where all the other guys were 6'2 or taller, and a couple of them were hefty, so I can conservatively say that the bed has been demonstrated to accommodate 800 pounds, with ease, even if one of them is standing up, causing me to say, "Dude, watch out for the ceiling fan." It was a fun group, but it is maybe not such a great idea to have three bottoms and one top: not one of those guys was about to give up his load before I surrendered mine, and they worked like champions with multiple holes and hands to get it. Also, I wondered whether I shouldn't have built a king-sized bed instead, but oh well. Midday Sunday, another guy showed up. He came without touching himself while he was bouncing up and down on his cock, which is always a good time.<br /><br />Late Sunday afternoon, I was doing a bit of housework and thinking that there were things that I really ought to get done, but then I thought that all I really wanted to do was play with boys, and I was about to post an ad when I got an email from J. who said that he would be home after 6 and wanted to play. J.'s a guy I hadn't seen for about two years; prior to that, I'd see him about once a year: he'd be blindfolded, and I'd tie him to the bed and edge him for an hour or more. I'd heard from him maybe six months back, and then sporadically thereafter, and he was being weird, even for him, so I'd mostly given up, but when he said he wanted to come over, I said why not. He's a marathoner, and his body looks great when he's tied spread eagle.<br /><br />We did our usual thing: he texted me when he was nearly at my place, and I unlocked the door and left the room. He came in, stripped to his jeans, put on the blindfold, and said he was ready. I put the wrist restraints on him, marched him upstairs, pulled his jeans down below his fine ass, spanked him a few times, then tied him, face up, to the bed. He's always said that he wanted to spend more than two hours being played with, but he'd never really lasted much longer than an hour before. Last night, though, I had him tied up for just over two hours, and really begging for release, before I made him shoot a load. I decided it wasn't worth being mean to him, though I did stop, when he was very, very close and already begging, to check my email. But he didn't offer his usual annoying and provocative rhetoric, instead telling me what good hands I had. It was weird, but fun. I could not believe so much cum could come from such small balls, but the evidence was on his perfectly flat stomach, the muscles of which come into sharp definition only when ejaculation is imminent. He had arrived at 7:30, and even though it was the longest day of the year, by the time I was ready to let him cum, it was fully dark outside, and I had to switch on a lamp to see the abs going in and out of sharpness. After I'd gotten him off and cleaned him up, I rolled him onto his stomach and gave him a massage. He pulled off the blindfold and nearly fell asleep, and half an hour later, he finally got dress, and we had what seemed like a friendly chat. It was really weird to interact with him when he wasn't being ashamed and dickish, but I can't help feeling that being nice to him means that he won't come back. Which might be a good thing: I can never figure out why I'm willing to put up with his weirdness: there are plenty of other guys with equally great bodies, and most of those guys want to give me blow jobs and ride on my cock. Still, I guess once every year or two, it's an interesting way to spend a couple of hours, and sometimes it's better not to spend too much time asking why.TEDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07765245186357910074noreply@blogger.com1