web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Annoying

Friday, October 12, 2012

Annoying


If you'd asked me this morning to write an essay about all the worst qualities I can imagine in a bottom, I would have basically described the guy I tried to fuck tonight. His pictures showed a very nice tight young body (he's 29), smooth and muscular like a dancer's, and a nice face, a little boyish and red/blond for me but nice. He hit me up and we quickly decided we'd like to fuck, but he said no raw, and I initially said no. But then I decided I really just wanted the feeling of manhandling a meaty body and thrusting my hips against it, even more than I wanted to feel slippery meat in a slippery hole. So I changed my mind, and told him I'd put a rubber on for him and ran over-- he was a 15 minute walk away. It was a beautiful clear evening, with fluorescent pink clouds in the darkening sky, and that brisk air that lets you know autumn is really here. I felt great. And he opened the door, wearing a pair of red long underpants that showed off his meaty thighs and perfect ass to great effect. I felt golden. But it was downhill from there.


He was fairly thin-lipped so the kissing was not what it could have been, though he made up for it in enthusiasm; he really seemed into getting with me, and I liked that. His dick was visibly hardening in his underpants and it was very big. I groped his body while we made out and his musculature was perfectly taut; amazing young body. But then he ground into me and started wagging his hips back and forth in an extremely ridiculous manner, rubbing his thickening boner against mine through our clothes, back and forth, back and forth. But the wagging motion was so completely unsexy, it started annoying me; it felt like something fourteen-year-olds might have discovered in the rec room and did every time they got together. I pulled away from him, thrust my hand between his legs, and cupped up under that heartbreakingly hot ass, kneading his buttocks and thighs, feeling every curve. He made encouraging sounds and kept diving his mouth at mine. But then he pulled me back to him and did more of that stupid wagging, with an equally unsexy boyish grin on his face, reminding me absurdly of a Charlie Brown character singing Loo Loo Loo Loo Loo Loo Loo in the Christmas Special. He asked for the poppers I brought (Jacked Jack had left them here; that reminds me, I should look him up again and see if he'll let me fuck him this time), and I told him I had them, and asked if we could go to the bedroom. So we did.

I led him to the edge of the bed and he kept squirming and moving in various directions; not sure what he was trying to do. I turned him around so I could see his ass, and pushed his back to signal for him to bend over. And he did, with his legs pushed together and wiggled like a woman. Ugh. I pushed him harder so he would lay on the bed with his ass in the air, and he finally got the message. His big fat dick hung down, hard and topped with a mouth-wateringly beautiful glans, and his balls with heavy, round, and fuzzy. The ass was unbelievable. The room was cramped and awkwardly laid out but I found space to hunker down and stick my face in it.

He made lots of hungry noises, and I kept expressing my delight at having this beauty to feast on, but after maybe a minute he flipped over without any warning, and beat off with his legs sort of crossed at the ankle, and told me he wanted my dick. I put it in his face and he gave me awful, awful, AWFUL head-- basically gripped it with both hands and jerked up and down with his mouth sort of around my dickhead, but I was left with the odd sensation of feeling absolutely nothing even though he was completely trashing my bone with vigorous motions. Awful, awful head! I was losing my hard-on. So I hopped on top of him-- his stomach was so tight, his legs so beautiful, I figured rubbing up against him would get my hardon back. He yelped and yelped as if he was having the time of his life, but invested even more energy in beating himself off, basically pushing us apart, and flailing more with the kissing and body-wiggling. I pushed his thighs back down to the bed to make him raise his dick up against mine, pressing down on him with my full body weight, and he said "I want that dick!" But he basically was wrestling me off him again with all the crazy flailings he was making.

This was incredibly disheartening. I don't know why God would create such a high-octane body, built for fucking, and populate it with such a complete sexual ninny. I flipped him over again so I could eat him out some more, and he let me go a little longer this time, but he felt extremely, extremely tight. I tried getting some fingers in to see how this was going to go-- I was gonna have to fuck this with a rubber!-- and fingering his prostate seemed to make him go wild. "Stop, or you're going to make me cum," he said, fisting his tool like a seventh grader at sleepaway camp. I wanted to say, "Stop masturbating and you might be able to last a little longer with me." But I didn't. I kept trying to loosen him up, but he would loosen then tighten, losen then tighten, even though he was doing hit after hit of poppers. "I don't want your finger, I want your dick!" he said. Pushy!

One more round of rimming had me hard enough to get a rubber on and try to push my way in. But he kept the thrashing, was too tight, and I lost my erection again. We did a few more rounds of this and that but I gave up. "Not gonna work," I said. "Let's just beat off then," he said, seemingly unfazed, and got back in the supine, legs crossed position, jiggling away at his erection. I got on him again, we did more silly humping-- I felt like I was trying to ride a drunk seal-- and I said, "Let me try one more time. Have you got another rubber?" He did, I got it on, I tried to force my way in, he had a little pinhole down there, it was useless.

I got on top of him again and just basically humped him till I came, utterly done with this nonsense. "Are you cumming?" he asked, as a pint of milk spilled all over his groin. "Yeah," I said, rearing back to jerk out the last few spasms. "OK now let me cum," he said, very matter of factly, and he did.

Total failure.

I slapped him on his gooey belly and said "Sorry man! Can I wash up a little?" And headed unceremoniously to the bathroom. "Oh it's ok," he said, still like some kind of puppy. We talked a little about the apartment and stuff like that as I got dressed but I left pretty quick, very annoyed.

It's hard to know before you hook up what someone is like in bed. You never know what you're gonna get, as Forret Gump said. Somehow I think Forrest Gump would have been a better lay than this! Oh well, I'll make some more cum tomorrow and try again.





4 comments:

  1. You are one serious loser buddy. You are the one that gives the community the bad name.

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    Replies
    1. Couldn't have said it better myself.

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  2. Is it bad that I am hystrically LOL at this story?

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    1. I'd be disappointed if people reacted any other way. Sometimes you just gotta laugh at your misfortune.

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