Spooging in the Mec du Nord

Tonight I shot my wad inside a verrrry hot 24-year-old Quebecois kid, but overall it was kind of a drag. I saw him on Scruff earlier in the day, somewhere very nearby, but decided he was Out Of My League And He Knew It. I really wanted to fuck a good hairy bottom today-- I wanted a long sweaty intense athletic fuck. He was the *kind* of guy I wanted to plow-- cute but a little brutish-looking, hairy, meaty, black hair, dark skin-- but he was 6' tall (a bit over my height limit) and as I said, somehow even just in a self-picture in a bathroom mirror, he seemed rather full of himself. By the end of the day, as tumbleweeds blew by on my regular hookup sites and I had nothing line up, I decided to just tell him, "You Quebec dudes are so freakin hot. What is in the water up there??" He said "You New York guys aren't bad either," which I realize now is not the same as saying he thought *I* was attractive. But we quickly ascertained that he was only a couple of blocks from me and wanted to take raw dick. He just Needed To Take A Shower For Thirty Minutes (something I still typically take as a stalling tactic; I've had two guys flake out on me with that statement recently). But then 5 minutes later he texted again, saying "Your pictures just gave me a hard-on. Leave now." He told me he wanted to do the leave-the-door-unlocked-lay-on-the-bed-in-a-jockstrap thing, which I find tedious, but his ass was fantastic, and he wanted me to start by rimming him in this position. I could have rimmed him all night, from the look of the pictures he showed me, so I was happy to oblige-- at least he didn't expect me to walk in the room with a hot-red poker in my pants and plow him instantly, like some guys. I love to eat ass. I was there in like two minutes.

The door was slightly ajar and loud, cheesy dance music was playing. The lights were low. He was positioned as advertised, and looked absolutely, utterly fantastic, better than I expected. I kneaded his round, very fuzzy buttocks for a good long time, also stroking his leg muscles and just admiring how fantastic he looked before running my tongue lightly over his crack and then biting firmly into the plump flesh. He was very responsive and hitched his legs around my body-- a feeling I love when my face is buried in a hot dude's hindquarters. I was getting very into it, swelling in my pants, and decided to take my time with it-- he was clearly enjoying himself. After a while I had to rip off that ridiculous jockstrap so I could feel him totally naked in my hands; his dick was short but fat and hard as steel. His body hair was rough and very exciting. I hitched his hips up with my hands and pulled him to my face and ate the fuck out of him. I sucked his balls and licked his dick a little, too.


But then he started whining about wanting my dick. He started fidgeting. He reached for poppers. I stood up, ripped my clothes off like a Chippendale Dancer, and waved my bloated choad in his face, thick and shapely but not turgid yet. He wouldn't get on his knees for me, but instead sat on the edge of the bed, huffed deeply at his little bottle, and took me into his mouth from an extremely awkard bent-over position which made me have to stand on my tiptoes to get my dick in his mouth at a good friction-producing angle, because he was taller than me. And he gave that rapid-fire chickenhead head that I can't believe anyone likes.

It went a little downhill from there. He kissed hard but stiff, and then stopped all together. He jerked me painfully roughly. Halfway through the festivities he had to go to the bathroom to take a piss. I was stroking myself the whole time he was gone with some thick goopy lube he had, and felt myself getting thicker and thicker and longer and longer, but I was in that weird not-rigid-but-gonna-cum state I sometimes find myself in when with a hot guy who doesn't kiss well or know how to suck my dick but loves having his ass eaten. When he came back he got on all fours on the bed and I slipped some fingers into his hole-- he greedily took them and I rubbed his prostate a bit while he moaned and moaned. This really made my dick hard-- I love a guy who responds to that, and it's beautiful to see my fingers disappear into a beauty of a rear like that. I figured it was now or never; I just had to put my dick in and cum in him in case he started fidgeting again and made me lose it.

I pushed in up to the balls in one hard shove, and pushed his head down into the pillows with one hand and pulled his hipbone up back into me with the other, plowing into him roughly, feeling my tool sliding in and out of his hot wet insides. He definitely liked the roughhousing, so I gave him some more, grabbing his lats and pushing his body down into me on my cock's upstroke into him, and then bearing down on him from a pistoning derrick position with all my weight transmitted through my arms onto his shoulders. And I reached around his inner thighs and gripped him there with both hands, drilling into him without mercy like a gorilla. There is something absolutely primal about feeling a guy's inner thighs, straining and taut and full of delicious tendons and hairy flesh, inches away from your own swinging balls; something about the thrusting, the position of your hands, the strain on your own haunches, the fulcrum of the forces balancing right at the center of your own fat dick, makes you want to shoot instantly. Realizing this guy was never going to go for the kind of buildup I needed to really fuck him properly and enjoy it, I decided to just let go and inseminate him from this animalistic pose, and I did, throwing in some grunts and the shouts of release for good measure. He was whimpering and saying porny things like "fuck that ass," always an original.

After I unloaded I decided to just keep pummeling him because he was into it-- at least one of us should get something more out of this, I guess! He was beating off at this point and I finally laughed and told him I'd already cum. This made him beat off harder, and so I thrust against him harder; it was really more a kind of physical attack than sex at this point. But it made him shoot on the towel he'd positioned beneath him.

I pulled out and went to wash off; he had instantly gone to his phone and computer.... ugh. But I stayed chipper, having at least gotten my rocks off and inside a hot guy to boot, and asked him how his visit was, how he likes New York, telling him about my trips to Montreal, all that. He was being very friendly but still a little self-congratulatory, showing me all the cards he had collected on his visit and saying, when I told him I'd cum faster than I wanted because he got me too turned on, that he knows he has "a cute face and a hot ass, what can I say." It's true, of course, but eh. I decided to pile it on, because he really was a beauty; I reached down for his waist and turned him to the side a bit-- he was in that fucking jockstrap again-- and just admired his furry curves back there, cupping them with my hands. "Your pictures do NOT do this justice," I said; I don't think bottoms know exactly how to pose their asses to attract tops, as the zillion asshole closeups out there attest to. "They don't?" he asked, a little panicked. I said, "They do not," and smacked his assmeat. "Maybe you should take some, then," he said, and I said, "Sure, I'll take some ass shots for you." He seemed happy about this, and went into the bathroom to pose against the wall. This is not actually how he should have done it-- the ideal pic would have been him on the bed with his legs spread, his ass flexed naturally, and his torso held up just so. But this was OK. "Let me art-direct you a little," I said, tossing some crumpled towels out of the way, and he quickly said, "I am an artist too!" "Well I'm not an artist myself," I corrected, "just a connoisseur of ass. Spread your legs a little, please." I got off one shot, but the bathroom was too narrow, and there was a fisheye effect that did not show off his proportions well; his ass looked distorted, his waist thicker, and his legs spindlier than they really are. "Bend your knees a little more," I barked, and he complied, and I maneuvered around the toilet, and got another shot from a good angle, still not perfect but pretty good. And then I went to the other side, positioned him a little better myself without words by just pushing on him, and got the last, best picture. "There ya go," I said, handing him his phone. "You have three great pix to choose form now."

As I pulled on my pants, he did say, "You have great calves. Those are inherent in your body... I played soccer when I was younger and they never got any bigger." So I have that compliment to take with me. I expressed surprise that he was staying in Brooklyn instead of Manhattan; he said he works in fashion and it was nice to get away from that world into the "scruffy hipster world". I happened to be wearing teal corduroys, an orange/black/white plaid shirt, black and white saddle shoes, and a fluorescent red puffy-- sometimes I like to play dress-up-- and I wondered what he though of that as I pulled this getup back on. If he thought anything, he didn't say anything. My friend had liked it at lunch, anyway!

I was surprised when I looked at my phone to see I'd been there 40 minutes or so, because it seemed like it lasted all of 10 minutes. Maybe I lost myself more than I thought in ass-eating-world. What a shame that we didn't have the same sexual style... it could have been an awesome fuck, his hole was beautiful. He thanked me for coming over and told me he might get fucked again later that night-- more bragging?-- and I said "Well, I was happy to warm you up." He kissed me goodbye and off I went, into the sudden drizzle.