Conquest!

Today was finally the day! You know what I'm talking about, loyal readers. You know who I finally stuck my bare, throbbing, oozing, meaty, triumphant dick in today. And it was not a disappointment.
I've been back from my hometown for a week, and my nephews are already acting up again. The little bit of structure I set up in their home broke down pretty quickly. To top it off, late on Friday night, I heard my mother was in the hospital. I'm so sleep-deprived I can barely sit up. I had to take today off to yell at my nephews, check on my mom, run an emergency errand for my partner, and try to take a nap to make up on sleep. A big cocksucking bear who lives way uptown and has flaked on me at least twice hit me up just as I finished the errand, saying he could come later in the afternoon and drain my nuts, which I only now realize have been stocking up on fucknectar since Tuesday, almost a whole week. I was happy to have this dropped in my lap-- I was so tired there was no way I would cruise today, but as soon as he asked me if I wanted it, I did. He's a little big/bearish for me, but has a great beard, wide shoulders, and a really manly face, so I said yes, imagining I'd just lay back and be serviced and fall asleep. My nephews were much better on the phone today, seeming to suddenly be waking up. My mom is improving. My sister is calming down. My boss was understanding. My swollen nuts were going to get some relief. What could be better?

Well, he flaked again, the fucker, asking if we could reschedule. He'd already kept me waiting all afternoon. I told him we should just move on maybe. He cursed his "bad luck," the nutjob. I cursed my own lack of GOOD luck.

When who should ping my cell but: Ultra Meat.

I would have loved another notch on my belt, and felt ambivalent about our last get-together, but Flake Bear riled up my nuts enough for me not to have any qualm about having Ultra Meat over to drain me. I told him I was tired, depressed, and cranky, but said if he was willing to work to cheer me up he could have all the dick he wanted. He wanted. So I waited.

He showed up looking good as usual. He was a little subdued too, saying he was a little run down. We made out slowly and I felt his big, hard body, and that ridiculously big round ass through his sweat pants. "I can't believe you keep coming back to suck my dick," I said, between lipsmacks and tongue sucks. "Why?" he said. "Because you're fuckin beautiful," I said. "You can suck anybody's dick." More kissing, languid and sensual and bone-hardening. "But yours is the best," he said. "You're totally my type. I love thick..." smack... "older..." smack... "scruffy..." smack... "White guys!" And I'm nothing if not that.

I pulled out my fat hard choad and fed it to him after pulling his shirt off his hard black body. His skin immediately was covered with goosebumps, which was oddly exciting to me. He worshiped my tool just as he always does, with expert suction, and I just crooned, "Hard as a fucking rock, man. You got me hard..." I drew out my length and slid it instead alongside his cheek and up past his eye; he slackened in ecstasy and felt my erection slither on his skin. "As a fuckin..." I moved it over the bridge of his nose to his other cheek and his neck went slack and his tongue ran out. "ROCK." And he took it back in his mouth. He was sitting indian-style on the floor, like a kid at story-time, eyes closed, shoulders tensed and rippling, and head back with mouth full of meat. I braced myself against the bathroom door, spread my legs, and slowly fucked my prick in and out of him. "This is how I will fuck your ass one day," I said. "Long straight strokes, all the way in... all the way out. I want you to feel me when I fuck you." And I demonstrated on his skull. He moaned and gulped. "SHIT," I said, illuminatingly after several silent thrusts. "I got to get this in my ass," he said, as he often does, meaning nothing. I slow-drilled his skull. It felt incredible. Finally, I ripped my sweater off and quickly pulled off my pants and hopped on the bed, saying, "I gotta lay back."

He did what he does best. He is pure sex.

He did the "You can't eat my ass, it's not clean" routine again. I still think this is a stalling tactic to keep him from getting so excited he lets me fuck him raw. And I was too tired to do much anyway. I was just enjoying being close to this beautiful beast who was hell-bent on making my dick feel good.

At one point he went down to my feet and sucked my toes while I beat off. He was flat on the bed, sprawled on his stomach, showing off his ass at an angle so perfect he must have *calculated* it to be perfect, and ground against my bed, with his mouth full of my feet, licking the soles and everything. I'm not into my feet, but when someone like that is grinding into your mattress with your feet in his mouth, you're suddenly into it, and you beat yourself off like crazy with his viscous spit slathered all over your knob.

Everything was pretty routine and I was happy about it. But at one point while I was lying on top of him, with my dick slid down between his meaty, enveloping buttocks so that the ridge on the back of my dickhead was rubbing tantalizingly over his hole, he said, much more convincingly than ever before, "I want your dick in me."

I smiled indulgently and teased his hole some more, and fucked his dick with mine, and yadda yadda. But every time I came up for air, sitting up to hold my aching, horny meat and admire his perfectly-shaped musculature, he would hitch his hands up under his thighs, just above his knees, and pull them back and open wide. And every top knows what that means. It's an instant signal to the brain.

I was gonna ride him raw.

I actually teased him a bit, and considered not fucking him at all. He hadn't let me eat his ass, a major disappointment, and when I fingered him he felt incredibly tight. He at least wanted me to *think* he wasn't cleaned up for that activity. When he had cooed to me earlier that his ass was MY ass, I smirked and said, "You won't even let me eat it!" and he cut his eyes away sheepishly. Well, none of that now. He was on his back with his asshole exposed to me and thick thighs, muscled calves covered with tight athletic knee socks, torso covered with tattoos, was positioned for one thing: to take me. "I can wash up really quick," he said, "It will take a second." But I didn't fuck him. I made him wait a bit. And we did more sucking, 69, grinding, kissing, lying side be side, being intimate but possessed with lust. And finally he just ran to the bathroom, saying "I will be ten seconds," did some mysterious thing a bottom can do in ten seconds, and came back, and presented himself to me again.

He was crazy tight. I began to deflate a little inside, if not outside. My dick is just too fat and blunt for really tight asses. I really didn't want to ruin a good thing with a failed fuck when I was tired and preoccupied. "It's dry," he said. Not everyone can take my dick with just our spit on it. I understand. Before I lubed up, which makes everything gooey and annoying, I teased him yet more, lying on top of him, telling him to wrap his legs around mine, sucking his lips, and feeling him grip my buttocks as I humped against his body.

He was reduced to begging, which is the state I like him in anyway. He was saying my name over and over-- something he'd never done before-- and asking for my dick inside him. So I lubed up and pushed hard and I was in.

He was VERY tight, too tight for me really. He was writhing like crazy, calling out my name, and I began to feel how powerful those huge legs of his really were, as he was practically pushing me off him while I was trying to drill into him. I gripped his ankles firmly, no-nonsense now, and pushed him back how I wanted him so his hole was at the perfect angle, the same angle that my penis makes with my body when it is so hard it is about to cum. And I thrust into him over and over, staring brutally into his face, which was twisted in some private emotion. He urgently recited my name over and over, and writhed with pleasure that looked like pain. Fucking was like wrestling a crazed alligator. But I kept at him. "This is what I wanted this is what I wanted this is what I wanted, oh <name deleted>" he kept saying. The best way I could get good access to his innards was to hook my elbows under his knees, pull him up high against me, and fuck up into him. He let go of his dick, and it was hard and oozing, and I thought, maybe I can fuck the cum right out of him! He seemed to be hinting at that. But I couldn't, and this position was very tiring with a guy his size.

After a couple minutes of this, which felt much more athletic than sensual and was not quite what I was expecting, he seemed to want me out. I know how conflicted he is about my filthy, raw tool which services all bottoms in the tri-state area routinely, so I complied. "Let's beat off now!" he said, not meeting my gaze. "If you stay in there, I'll want you to cum inside." I fucked my own hand, really just wanting to keep my position on top of him and admire him. "Let me just stay close to you like this," I said, "I just want to feel you, you look so fucking good on your back underneath me." We put our dicks together and pushed our crotches together hard enough to bruise each other, making out the whole time. Just being so close to him, smelling his musk, feeling the intense sensual tenderness coiling out of that hulking, strong body, made me so hard. So, so hard. "Baby, please let me put it back inside. I promise I won't cum in you. I just want to feel you." He nodded. "Put it back in me baby." And we did a lot of baby baby baby but I slicked up good and put it back in him thinking I'd just hold him and feel his warmth and not wrestle or try to really fuck him, just savor the access.

But now it was exactly right. He was relaxed. He didn't push me away. My dick was so hard and long and straight! My fuckin dick! And I drilled him with long straight deep determined strokes, just like I said I would when I was fucking his skull at the beginning. My white hard straight tool looked fanastic against his dark creamy skin; the penetration was highlighted, I was fucking the hell out of him with my fucking dick. I gripped the sides of his torso, down close to his hips, in a way good bottoms love to be held while they are being drilled. His eyes were closed, he was looking down at our intersection. "Look at me," I barked. "Look at me when I fuck you raw." He looked at me and my hips had a life of their own, giving him my whole body, taking his whole body, fucking him completely. "I knew you were a good fuck the minute I laid eyes on you," he managed to say lucidly while we were boning out brains out. He laughed and I rode him hard and tight. "I fuckin knew it!"

So fuckin good.

You *know* I wanted to plant my seed in him. But I knew it would ruin it for him-- it would make it for him, but it would also ruin it. This fuck turned out so awesome. I'd promised I wouldn't cum in him and it was feeling waaaaay too good, too slick, too velvety, too deep, too intense. So I pulled out. "I didn't cum in you, baby," I cooed. I laid down on top of him with all my weight on him, and my face nuzzling his neck. "Thank you for giving me your ass." He said incoherent baby baby things. And I felt my nads go liquid as I rubbed against his body, and it was time to finally cum. I don't know how I lasted as long as I did inside him, with a week's worth of sperm in my testicles. But it all sprayed out in two long jets across his torso and neck, bright white against his dark flesh. The rest of my cum landed in his pubes and on his legs. And he quickly came too.

I worried he'd be freaked after this. He was a little quiet as he cleaned up, but not like last time (see the comments). I told him a little bit about what was bothering me and he made sympathetic noises. And then after a pause he looked at me and said, "You're poz, right?" He held a serious face for a minute but then laughed and said he was joking. I told him I had been truthful about my last test, even if it seemed fishy I'd just had it the same day he asked me about the medication he saw in my bathroom. "Well, my friend says there's some place in the Village where you can get fake papers saying your negative," he said, pulling on the rest of his clothes. "It would be really easy to fake the papers, just with a printer at home," I said, "but that would be pretty depraved. I really did happen to get tested that day we were together, and it really was negative."

He told me he hoped he'd made me feel better, and I kissed him and stroked him a little to show him he had. And then he was off to work-- somehow he was going to teach aerobics after an hour in a sensual garden and a blinding orgasm with me.

Now I have to fuck him a bunch more times so he doesn't think I'm a cad who throws guys away as soon as he gets what he wants from them! Ha.

But.... maybe one day I will cum in him, after all! What a prize that would be. God, he's beautiful. I'll fuck him again.