Milked Dry

Today a 24-year old with unusual stamina and patience blew me for about an hour and a half and got two (2) loads out of my nuts, which are now as shriveled and desiccated as raisins, in shock from the assault. I have always been a slow reloader, but now that I'm in more 40s I am even more so. Typically after I cum my interest in sex drains away so quickly and completely that I can occasionally feel impatient and annoyed with myself for spending so much time on it, even before the very last spurt has come out-- if I actually beat off, my sex drive seems utterly ridiculous for several hours and I wonder why I ever bother fucking. (Once it comes roaring back, a day or so later, I always seem to be reminded.) But today, damn if I didn't rise to the occasion.

The kid was not totally my type, but he was what most people would think was cute, not very built or defined or anything, but a cute face, man-boyish, I think partly south Asian, maybe Pakistani but not sure, maybe Indian. He had a very jockish manner, with that inability/reluctance to talk that I associate with a certain kind of straight-guy. I thought he was playing me at first; he'd responded to a Craigslist ad I placed a month or two ago and emailed a bunch but we never got together despite several tries. (He admitted today that he's a flight attendant and is out of town a lot; he must be the most reticent person they ever hired to hand out peanuts.) He hit me up this morning on Manhunt and seemed eager to come suck me off, even though he lives way uptown and it would take at least 45 minutes to get here on the subway. I wanted to get of so I said OK. But as I mentioned he communicated oddly in texts after I agreed to have him over, not enthusiastic like most guys, taking longer than he said to get ready to leave, going completely silent without asking me for my exact address, etc. I deleted all his messages on Manhunt-- he was still logged in-- and was considering making plans to fuck some dude in Chelsea when suddenly he texts that he's transferring at 14th st. Apparently he just got on the train only knowing what station to get off at. I directed him to my apartment, and here he was.

He'd said he doesn't like to kiss, and I told him that's typically what makes me hard so he'd have to work an erection out of me with his mouth and be fine with that. But he did let me kiss him a little when we got to the bedroom, and it was actually rather nice. Not wanting to torture him, I whipped it out, and he told me to get in bed instead of kneeling in front of me, so I pulled down my shorts and hopped in bed. And he just sucked the hell out me, basically.

He didn't want to vary his position much-- he installed himself between my thighs, propped up on his elbows with his arms together, and left his legs dangling lifelessly behind him, not in the typical frog-crouch a lot of bottoms get when they blow me-- a reflex I love, by the way, because there is nothing more beautiful than the shape of an ass when a man in on his stomach and his legs are splayed like that. Attention bottoms: have yourself photographed in this position and the number of tops hitting on you will skyrocket, I promise, especially if you get rid of that blurry, proctological closeup of your rectum.

Whenever I tried to move him, to lay his head on my thigh and suck me that way, or suck me from the side, he resisted intensely. He basically wanted to pray to my dick. What he lacked in the gymnastics department, however, he made up for in the oral technique department. He truly knew his way around a dude's cock, impressive at 24, to me. From tonguing the head, to making the hole tingle, to gulping me down completely and yet still massaging my whole length with his entire tongue, he never let up and never let it get boring. A few times he pulled me out to run his lips reverently along the hard length of my tool, or to chew (!) on my pubes, or lick my nuts. But mostly he was all over my fucking dick.

I did flip him a few times and fuck his fairly nice-looking but smallish boner and make out with him, which he did freely and without resistance after a good taste of my dick. He held my hairy back and let me grind into him but seemed a little hesitant about being put in that position. But when I inched my hand down his thigh and across his hairy ass to the vicinity of his asshole, I felt a very detectable shaking, trembling, and his breath got fast and shallow. When I combined it with sucking and lightly chewing his nipple, the shaking became very obvious. It was exciting to get a rise out of him like this, because he did not make a single sound or express anything at any point. It almost made me cum.

The head was pretty awesome, too. About halfway through the first round, he pulled my dick out, and without looking up at me, but rather talking into my dick like it was a microphone, he asked me how long I could go for, what my ideal was. And then he put me back in and sucked more and waited for the answer. This was a little weird, but I went with it, and told him, as he swirled his tongue around the ridge of my dickhead, about the guy who sucked two loads out of me in a row, spending something like two hours on me. Again he spoke into my pubic microphone, saying "Do you want to do that today?" and I laughed, and said let's make the first one count. And then we'd see. I didn't want to overpromise.

He sucked me silly, and I fucked his face a few times, once from above with my thigh draped across his body, and once from below as he sat stock-still with his eyes closed in bliss with my fleshpole hammering into him. Again I almost came from grinding into him-- I had to seriously concentrate on batting the orgasm back, and he seemed impressed with the control. "I don't want you to come yet," he said, and I didn't either. But while I was thrusting my bone up into him, I got close again, and voiced the tension, and he stopped, startled, but it was too good, and I started spurting and crying out "Oh no, oh no." It was only about a half hour after he started, not much of a sucking marathon.

He liked the cum and said it felt like a lot. But he said, "Wanna hang out a bit and then do it again?" I told him if he wanted another load he'd pretty much have to just start sucking again. He was a little too quiet for me, and I figured if we laid there trying to make small talk the possibility would pass for good. Best to just get right back to it. He seemed fine with that so I pushed my rubbery, slimy dong back in his mouth and he just kept at it.

And next came a long hazy hour of pleasure, even though I never did get fully hard again. I began feeling a little high and spacey, and it was like my entire sex life was flashing before my eyes, random images of guys I'd fucked or sucked or been sucked by or lusted after in the gym or on the street or on the subway. It only took about 10 minutes before I was mentally dying to cum, but I could tell I was nowhere close physically. It was a strange twilight, where the brilliance of full arousal was only just across the horizon, casting a glow but not able to rise up. I was a catatonic and wondered what I looked like, sitting there open-mouthed, stock still, with this little dude bobbing his head in my groin. I kept bouncing my balls with my fingertips and whimpering, wishing for cum, wishing for cum.

And after about an hour of this-- my poor dick-- something clicked, and I began matching his rhythm, thrusting my slowly hardening dick up into his throat, and picturing one monster of a man I saw at the gym this morning whose legs were covered with hokey NYC-themed tattoos and whose muscles were unbelievably huge but beautifully proportioned. I almost never think of other people in bed, but this got me to the point where I could fuck his mouth and get another load into his gullet. He felt me harden and I could tell he was excited, and we did a beautifully choreographed minute or so of face-fucking before my nuts spurted out whatever was left and he gulped it down.

He flipped on his back and started beating off his dick, which suddenly looked a lot bigger and fatter. "Sit here and put your dick in my face," he demanded, and I was happy to oblige, given how he'd gotten me off twice. He sucked and sucked my poor, abused wang. "Are you going to cum?" I asked, and he shook his head, tugging my dick side to side, then popped it out, saying "I think I can get some more from you." I laughed and said I really, really didn't think so. He slurped it back down and kept sucking. I and leaned over and fucked his face and fingered his nipple. And my dick did feel a little harder-- just the motions of thrusting were turning me on yet again-- but I knew I wouldn't cum any more. And so I fucked into his mouth hard, sensing this might get him going, and he quickly popped all over himself.

I cleaned him up with a washcloth and got him a glass of water, but he played with his phone a bunch and was his typical reticent self. "That was very hot," he allowed, and made it sound like he'd want to do it again.

All I know is, I need to wrap this thing in gauze and unguents. And I need a nap. I feel like a Podling after having its vital essence drained out for the Skeksis. Or Don Johnson in A Boy and his Dog. (Look em up).