Pride

Today I fucked the little guy with the beard and the big nose who blew me earlier this year. But first I had a bit of a blow to my pride. Last week sometime I placed an ad on Craigslist for a raw fuck, because nothing was going on at all on the usual sites I use. A guy hit me up with somewhat obscured pictures (one of which was stretched sideways a bit); he said he had a partner and had to be careful, but what I could see looked pretty good, muscular and shapely. Timing didn't work out that day and he hounded me all week to get together, but he seemed a little too shady for me and I was busy. But today I hit him up because I was just craving some long deep thrusting again. He agreed to come over but would not give me a phone number-- another red flag that usually makes me pass on a guy-- so I told him we'd have to meet outside somewhere. He was fine with that. We were shaking hands on the street a half hour later, and he looked really good, but I suddenly realized he looked familiar to me. I asked if we'd talked before, and he said he didn't think so. I realized who he was-- someone who had been after me on various sites for years, ever since I moved to NYC, but would always flake out at the last minute with various excuses, disappear for a while, resurface with new pictures, reel me in, and make a putz out of me all over again. Before I could say anything about our history, he said, "Is it OK if I say I'm just not feeling it? I don't mean to offend, but..." and I calmly said, "Of course not, don't worry about it." He offered his hand again, and then he ran off. He came all the way here from Tribeca to do that! I dunno if he really didn't like what he saw, or if he is just a complete closet case. I've had to do this myself to people who were Not As Cute As Picture, so part of me took it in stride, but another part thought, wah, I'm ugly. So of course I had to fuck someone else, pronto, and I got back online. And suddenly Little Beard Big Nose showed up. And he wanted to fuck!

He lives a few blocks away so he came right over. This time he was a little more frenzied than the first time, which put me off a bit. He looks really cute in his clothes and had just gotten a new haircut and I kinda like to take some time to make out and admire and undress someone, but he was all over my dick and pulling off my belt right away, and kissing very aggressively. I decided to go with it and not try to slow him down-- at least he was very into me! Pride restored! His blowjob was a little too toothy this time, so I knew if I wanted to get hard quick I'd need to eat his extremely cute, fuckable ass. So I got him naked, flipped him over, and chowed down. I'd forgotten how freakishly fat his dick and balls were compared to his stature. His skin was creamy and smooth and exactly the same color from neck to ankle. His asscrack was a little on the hairy side, dark dark Italian hair. He had just showered but had trotted over in the muggy warm early evening, so he was pretty fragrant there with that specific sweat guys get there (which is still in my beard as I type this; I gotta go wash my face when I'm done so I don't reek of ass all night). Honestly I could have eaten him out all day long. It got my dick hard as a rock, especially when I held his fat tool with one hand and his calf with the other and burrowed my nose in his hole and sucked down one of his balls-- instant boner for me. I flipped him over and we humped a bit. He pulled up his legs, ready for the king missile, but I could tell his ass was going to be too tight, so I flipped him back over and ate him out some more. I put my dickhead on his hole and hoped he could wiggle onto it slicked up with nothing but spit to guide our way. But this was clearly not going to work. So I lubed my tool up a bit, ate him out some more, and slid it in slowly.

This wasn't the velvety smooth glide I like so much-- something about the chemistry of his body, maybe the soap he used, and the lube I have did not work. But fuck, I wanted in that little body-- I fuckin love looking at it, touching it. I plowed him a bit from behind, held up on my arms and knees so I could watch the action, or putting my hands on his assheeks as I drilled between them, or putting my weight on his shoulders and pistoning. It seemed a bit much for him; I thought maybe he didn't like the position. So I got him on his back, slid in that way, and instantly knew I was not going to last in this position. He's just a regular little guy with a barely defined body and some dark chest hair, but he drives me fuckin wild with that beard, that nose, that skin, those gently swelling muscles. I fucked him some but then relaxed, trying to get past that point where I can fuck without worrying about cumming for as long as I want, but I felt pressure pushing its way into the tube in my shaft and oozing into him. It slicked things up nicely, and my dick slid in a little deeper on its own lubricated by this, but this only made me ooze a little more cum into him-- this felt like a lot of it, running out in a stream. I really, really didn't want this, but what could I do? I kissed him and held his sides and put my hands on his hips, and I felt it coming again. What is it about putting your hands on a guy's waist when your bone is in him that makes your dick want to fire? I said, "I am NOT gonna last in here," and he looked concerned, and I just began pumping away, saying "I love your little body, your fuckin body turns me on so much," and I pulled out and splooged long thick jets all over him and part of the comforter beside his head. "That was GOOD!" I said, and he started to beat himself hard with some of my cum, which got churned into a thick, white mess all over his dick and between his fingers. I rested my fat, rubbery dick next to his, and stroked his torso and thighs up and down until he shot too.

I think this all lasted barely 30 minutes. He got dressed and we chatted a bit, but he didn't seem to want to linger any. He trotted around my apartment in his cute little pants and Chuck Taylor Hi Tops and t-shirt and I just wished the fuck could have been longer, deeper, more slippery and velvety. But it was short and sweet and he seemed happy. "Hope to see you again soon," he said. But I think I'll risk more rejection looking for new meat for the time being.... time to add some notches to my belt.

A reader recently asked if I kept track of how many guys I fuck. I don't, but I did go back and count them by looking through my posts. I counted 22 fuck encounters this year (including this one), but two of them were repeat performances with bottoms from earlier in the year, so that brings it down to 20. Take out guys I've fucked in previous years and I think it's 18 or 19. So there you have it! I really have no clue how many different guys I've plowed in my life, at this point. I wish I'd started this blog long ago, so I could remember them all.