Insecure

Today I got some seriously vigorous service from a big lumbering guy with a very stocky frame-- not my usual type at all, even for sucking, but his face was extreeeemely handsome in his pictures on Manhunt, and I'm a pushover for a handsome man. He was behaving shyly enough that I wondered if the pictures were really him. Even his profile is a little defensive about his build. It was the kind of morning where I was suddenly getting offers from all sides, rare for a Saturday, but Beautiful Lummox and I had exchanged some witty emails yesterday and he was very enthusiastic about sucking a big load out of me, so I felt I had to give him his chance. But as the morning wore on, and he had more and more delays before he could come, I started wondering if I was setting myself up for a huge disappointment-- if he didn't look like those pictures, it would have been a waste saving myeslf for him. He showed up looking exactly like the pictures, but he is a big man, for sure-- maybe 6'1, very broad, carrying a good bit of extra weight on his linebacker build. He was extremely nervous, and after drinking the water I gave him, he eyed my liquor shelf and asked for something harder. "It's been a long time since I met anyone," he said sheepishly, and asked for a very fancy liqueur which happens to be my favorite too, in a candle-lit lounge after a show, but which would have been a completely ridiculous pre-blowjob apertif. So I suggested Wild Turkey and he said OK, and slammed that down. And then asked where we were going to do this, as if I were a wild west doctor about to cut a bullet out of his arm. I led him back to the bedroom and he basically sucked the living hell out of my dick. What he lacked in confidence about his body, he seemed to have in spades for his cocksucking ability.

He was a great kisser and it was a thrill to kiss him-- dark brown hair cut short to his scalp, nice beard, very straight protrusive nose (my favorite), silky lips, very nicely shaped and placed ears. Thick, thick muscular neck. As I felt him up and down, I thought, this guy is just way too big for me-- but I also noticed his arms and shoulders were actually absolutely humongous and very hard. That's another turnon. So I pushed him to his knees and whipped out my only slowly engorging dick, and he hot it steely firm in no time with expert ability. We moved to the bed and he was a little rough and overenthusiastic-- I had to keep calming him down-- but he was making me feel pretty fucking nice. His hands were big and meaty (another turnon for me) and when I touched them or held them he went pretty crazy on my tool. My dick looked fantastic in that handsome mouth. I grabbed his chest and he actually had massive hard meaty pecs, covered with some padding, and hard nips I could really feel though his sweater. But when I reached down to pull of his pants, he looked me in the eye, and said, "My clothes have to stay on." I asked him why without thinking, and he said, "I'm still not confident. I've had some bad experiences. Like last night." This was kind of a downer; at this point I really wanted to feel his muscle through his skin, rather than his clothes. I told him ok, ok, probably not very convincingly, and my dick deflated a little. I was taken aback and felt the need for another level here, another sensation. But it was blocked, so all I had was his handsome face and his bulk against me. We made out fiercely while I fisted my dick back to complete hardness. And then I told him to lay flat on his belly between my legs; up till now he'd been on his side with my leg between his, pressed against what felt like a ridiculously fat, hard bone of a dick in his pants. He complied; this position emphasized how wide his shoulders were and how freakin huge his guns were. Then I told him to open his legs a little, and he again complied, slowly, as if he felt foolish. But in that position, with legs splayed, ass in the air a bit, and wide V of his torso spreading up to me, he looked really fuckin nice... enough to get me on the edge and keep me there. When I told him how close he was, and how I needed him to go slow, it was like all he could do to contain himself-- he was practically vibrating with desire and broke out into a sweat all over his body. I put my hands down the back of his shirt to feel his muscles through smooth skin, feel it slide over his collarbone and shoulder blades, and the sudden, peephole intimacy of that little bit of skin-to-skin contact made me shoot instantly down his throat. He gulped me hard and greedy, and I kept having to tell him to slow down, it was too much, my dick was too sensitive, but he kept it up until I just pushed his face off my tool and held it gently in my hands, safe from his voracious mouth.

He asked if I was satisfied and of course I was. We talked a bit about what had happened the night before-- apparently he used to have a great body, but gained a lot of weight when he was living a sedentary life in another state for a few years. He ran into an ex boyfriend on the street who gave him hell about how much weight he'd gained, in front of another person, at length. I felt bad for him; that's very ass. Though I can totally see that if he lost about 40 pounds he would be hot enough not to have to suck off dudes like me! He'd be beautiful indeed, then.

After we got out of bed he wanted another shot of whiskey, and we chatted a bit about my apartment, his life in Europe for a few years, things like that. I was warming to the Europe-vs-America topic and enjoying the conversation a lot, but he suddenly said, "Well, I don't want to talk your ear off," and then made motions about leaving. Again taken somewhat aback, I wondered what was up there; the conversation had been lively and perfectly normal up till then. He took a leak, asked me about three times if we could get together again while he put on his jacket, and left, thanking me for the semen breakfast.

Not sure how I feel about this one. My own body is far from ideal-- it's pretty fuckin schlubby-- so it actually spotlights my own insecurity in a way to have him behave this way. With hot guys totally out of my league, I swagger my way through it with my pure, genuine, and undeniable love of sex, beautiful men, and pleasure. I can forget about it when it's just me. But when it's two of us, it's a damper. If we don't get together again, I hope he somehow understands that it's mostly because I'm a big dirty whore, and not because he doesn't look good (he could work it if he wanted to). I'd hate to add to his insecurity. But there are so many places I still have to stick my dick. So many mouths and asses.

It's a beautiful sunny afternoon and I'm going to go out, unburdened of my milky, heavy load, and enjoy myself.