web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Release

Monday, June 18, 2012


Today I fucked a tight-bodied, full-assed, rather exotic-looking Persian guy from Pakistan. He had hit me up several times before, and I was always attracted to the shape of his body-- willowy waist, comparatively broad, defined chest, and that amazing ass swelling luxuriantly out from his lower back-- but in the face he was really just not my type at all-- fine-featured, almond-shaped eyes, delicate-looking skin like brown porcelain. But today, I guess the body won out. I hadn't noticed before that he said his nips "control" his ass, and this gave my penis a little jump today; that is one of my favorite things in a bottom. Finding myself with an unexpected day to myself, as my travel plans for the week were pushed back a day, and not wanting to spend hours cruising for the right guy instead of enjoying an incredibly gorgeous afternoon today in NYC, I asked for his address, deep in Bushwick. I was looking forward to ejaculating the big frustrated load I built up on Friday and carried around around all weekend deep into his hard body after some vigorous deep boning.

I got to his place pretty quickly, which was a cramped railroad apartment with a very awkward layout. His bed was crammed into a corner of his small bedroom without a hell of a lot of space around it, and what space there was was taken up by a big floor-to-ceiling mirror aimed right at the bed. Ugh, I thought, two of my least favorite things-- cramped space around the bed and a mirror in my face while I fuck. But I decided to soldier on; I had sperm to disseminate in a new body. We kissed very slowly at first-- this kind of very sensitive guy often likes being teased a bit, so I held my lips close to his without quite kissing yet, and very slowly moved my hand up his belly and chest, coming close to his nipple but not touching it yet; at the same time I let my other hand slide down his back and into his pants, over the underwear clinging to his peach-like asscheeks. He predictably shuddered and whimpered, and when I hit his nipple he yelped and convulsed and my dick sprang into hardness in my pants. He felt it harden against his body and began stroking its length while I circled his nipple with one finger, pressed my lips to his and sucked, and made him lose his breath a bit. For a while we stayed like this as the tension mounted, then I pulled down my shorts and told him to get on his knees and suck it. He obeyed instantly, looking up at me like a supplicant with his mouth full of my meat. His mouth was actually too small for the thickness of my bone-- I'm not huge or anything, but along with the fine features of his face came a small mouth which made for a fairly toothy blowjob. There wasn't enough pressure going on there either, so I told him to press his tongue up against the front of my dickhead while he sucked and moved me in and out. He froze in a typical kind of panic that mediocre cocksuckers seem to get when they're told how to properly suck a dick. My tongue? Your dick? Press? What? I find this fascinating-- how could you have a dick (his was a beauty, an inch bigger than mine and just as thick) and not know how to suck one? But it's so common.

I decided this wasn't going to get me anywhere so I stripped him and pushed him back on his bed so I could grind my dick into his while sucking his nip. The body contact got back the iron-stiff erection that was lost by the lousy head. He shook and moaned and said, "Bite it, bite it," and I positioned the nib between my molars and slowly, slowly clenched like a vise. His body writhed and he cried out for more. With my left hand I felt the roundness of his buttock and sought out his hole, which felt especially tight. I licked my finger and worked it in. Online he had said he liked having his hole stretched, so though he felt completely dry, didn't hesitate to roughly force my way in. At this point he was bucking with pleasure, and I stroked his prostate as he circled his hips. I brought my hands back up under his waist and ground into him with the full weight of my body and he held me close to him, pushing up into me, greedy for sex. I reached back down and forced two fingers into his hole at once, and I felt him start to slick up a bit inside in anticipation of being fucked (it's sort of amazing to me that this really happens, but it does with a lot of bottoms). I sat up and wet my dick with spit, and prepared to push it in, but he jumped up and fished out of his dresser some of the gloopiest lube I've ever encountered, in a little container that looked a lot like an aspirin bottle. I don't know what it was, but he slathered a ton of it on my bone and into my hand, and told me to put it in his ass with my fingers. He was obscenely slimy with it between the buttocks when I was done but it allowed me to slide in my fat bone with ease.

It was a pleasure to dick that tight little body, and I alternated thrusting into him with all my weight and then hovering above him, connected to him only by my tool and my teeth gripping his nips. The excitement was enough to make me feel my nuts tightening and the muscles between my legs squirt one small jet of pent-up cum into him. I didn't move for a bit, to be sure I didn't switch into full-firing orgasm mode so soon. I just made out with him fiercely and licked his ears until I felt my nuts relax into their sac again. The small squirt of cum eased the gloopiness of the lube inside him considerably, and I was able to fuck him with longer strokes of my bone, harder and faster, without feeling an urgent need to shoot everything I had. I hiked his body up against mine by hooking his knees into my elbows and pulling up, so my dick was pointing straight up at his navel, and I moved his hips in a circle, so that my prick rotated a bit in his innards. He moaned and moaned, and I pushed his legs back and fucked him long and deep with my whole body pressed against his, an intense, full-body fuck.

But then he said he was hurting, and pushed me out of him. Something had snapped in him a bit and he seemed to have had enough, mere seconds after greedily taking whatever I gave. This is pretty frustrating for a top, especially one who had fucked without getting off and still carried a dose of spooge from three days before. But I like my dick to give pleasure, not pain, and wondered if maybe I'd fingered him too roughly, so I let it go. I asked if he wanted me to cum and he said he did, so I laid on top of him again and bucked into him until I was ready. His body hair was trimmed close and was nicely bristly against my own skin, not stubble length but a bit longer, very delicious atop his taut skin. Then I sat up and beat myself off, first squirting out a long, thick, beautifully opaque white jet of semen about fifteen inches long, reaching from his pubes to his nipple. Then I shot another two or three shorter jets all over his dick and along the side of his belly. The rest were small spurts that fell right onto his scrotum. This orgasm felt really good; I'm getting hard now just thinking about seeing all that liquid from my testicles streaking across his dark body. I would have liked to have shot it in him but it was such a handsome ejaculate that I'm sort of glad I got to see it. I love shooting my cum hard, I love seeing the evidence of the hard shot.

He wiped me off fairly quickly and I asked to rinse off a bit. The gloop was difficult to get off, and even now has made the skin on my dick velvety soft and fun to stroke; I have no clue what that stuff was. His bathroom, like much of the apartment, was pretty bachelor-squalid. I paraded naked back to his bedroom and got dressed while trying to chat a bit. I asked about the tattoo on his back, which was large stylized arabic characters; he said it was from a Persian poem and said it was hard to translate but said something like "Only warriors can fall in battle; babes have not yet learned to walk." Hm. He also had a baseball cap on his dresser with the logo of my alma mater on it, but he had no idea what I was talking about when I pointed it out. Hm again.

I bade him goodbye and went back out into the cool, breezy sunshine, feeling ten pounds lighter after getting rid of all that cum. It was a beautiful day and I explored Bushwick a bit, which I haven't done much up to now. It was a good fuck even if it was cut short. I love being a top and getting to fuck all these different kinds of guys all the time.

But I do have one question. Why does everyone's towels smell like that?? I may have to start bringing my own to clean up with. Bleh.


  1. Towels smell like that because they get mildewed. They sit in the dryer too long and start to rot. Or they're not adequately dried and start to rot. Nasty.

    1. You're probably right, CockHound. I'm not the most fastidious housekeeper here, but mine never smell like that. I'm just always amazed at how common it is.