web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Sextown

Tuesday, July 23, 2013


Tonight is the last day in San Francisco with my nephew; we fly out separately tomorrow. He had a great time and was open to everything, which was very gratifying for me. We went up and down the coast a bit and saw a lot of giant trees, giant rocks, and waves, and climbed a lot of hills and drank a lot of coffee in the city. Today he was a little on the mellow side, wanting to just hang out some in the insane hipster Mission apartment I booked on AirBnB, which is full of taxidermy and skulls and terrariums and so on, but also features a rather preciously curated vinyl record collection (Richard Hell! Wanda Jackson! Flying Lizards! Stevie Nicks! Martha and the Muffins!). My nephew just wanted to hang out in the apartment most of the day listening to the records and staring at the taxidermy and fantasizing about just living in a city like this, so I went off to look at some stores that would bore him out of his mind. And also, to ejaculate in a dude, if I could find one willing to host me in the middle of the day. As I've mentioned, I've never been too lucky in San Francisco, and the requirement to travel in the middle of a work day made it seem impossible. I was carrying a full week's load after my twofer on my first night here. I just wanted someone to suck it outta me. But I got more than I bargained for.

I had no fewer than 33 messages waiting for me on BBRTS, which I guess I left myself logged into on Tuesday. That site is definitely more popular here than in NYC. And there were quite a few dudes on various apps who claimed to be interested. I did my best to prime the pump in the morning, before heading out on my own, but the most promising guy, from Growlr, had gone in to work for an hour or so, he said. He was extremely handsome, quite built though not like bodybuilder perfect, and very interested in getting me off. I wandered around the Mission for an hour, waiting to hear that he was on his way back home, but didn't hear anything. When I finally asked if he was close to being done, he was vague and so I decided he was stringing me along. But not before he'd sent me a bunch of dirty messages, and beautiful ass and thick-meat cock shots to make my balls even bluer than they already were. So I was frantically cycling through all the sites on a bus to Hayes Valley, hoping to fill the void this dude left.

I had a pastry and some coffee and strolled in and out of the stores, and by the time I'd gone up and down Hayes St, and only had about 90 minutes left before I promised my nephew I'd be back to have dinner with him, two guys were suddenly interested. One was a 5'5 latin meatball, extremely muscular but nicely proportioned, with a very cute, round but manly face. He wanted me to fuck my load into his sweet little body. The other was a big hairy guy who was enthralled by the size of my ejaculate and wanted to service me. The latin guy seemed the most appealing, so I sent him my number and asked for his address. I told the hairy dude that I thought I was making plans but to send me his number in case Little Albondiga was going to play me. Hairy dude said he'd rather I looked for him there on BBRTS. That didn't sound promising. Most guys who are serious will send you their number. So all the chips seemed to be on Little Albondiga. Who said he'd text me the address right away and would be ready for me in a half an hour. So I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I went in a few more stores and stood on the sidewalk, staring at my phone, whose battery was suddenly quite low. Then I got a phone call which turned out to be from the rental car company I'd just returned the car to. I shouted the lady off the phone and cursed under my breath. Albondiga was playing me.

So I wrote the hairy dude and gave HIM my number, and asked for HIS address. I figured, whoever texts me first gets my cum.

And I waited.

And suddenly, Albondiga texts his address!

And immediately thereafter, the hairy dude texts HIS!

My battery is about to die, I have barely more than an hour to get to one of them, pump my load into them, and get back to my nephew. I want Albondiga BAD. But I think, I'm so full of cum, I can't fuck him right anyway. And I look up directions; Albondiga is a bit further from where we're staying than the hairy dude. So I decide to go with hairy dude. I apologize to Albondiga, saying it took a while for him to reply and I didn't think I'd hear back. I realized at that point that "a while" was like MAYBE five minutes. But when your nuts are roiling, your phone is dying, your nephew is starving, and Enterprise is maybe calling to tell you something weird about your recent rental, time has a way of dilating. Luckily, Albondiga was cool about it, saying his mom had called him suddenly, and that he'd still want to fuck with me whenever I was game.

So I went to hairy dude's place, which was a short walk from where we're staying, so it would be easy to get home after I'd finally unburdened myself of my load.

He opened the door in just a pair of jeans. He had a fantastic muscular body, and RIDICULOUSLY oversized fleshy nipples on his wiry, hairy chest, looking like big thumbs sticking out of his pecs. He smiled broadly at me, even though I didn't feel very cute today. I took one look at his chest and said, "Whoa, let me feel these," and went right for the nips. His body jolted and he sighed. "You like that then?" I asked, and he nodded helplessly. "Verrrry nice," I said, as I stroked them in my fingers. I've milked a cow before, and these were cow-milkin tits, for sure. His eyes were pale blue; the hair on his head was short but rather wiry; and he had very rough five o'clock shadow. He looked like a grown up, more Jewish, and more sleazy Greg Brady.

He wanted me to kiss him and we kissed, but he was one of those guys who, despite having perfectly serviceable lips, kisses rather rigidly, with simple open-close motions of his mouth, making me feel a little like I was having sex with the creature from the Captain Beefheart album cover. Frustrating. He was all about his nips, which he wanted abused. He occasionally made beautiful tongue swipes at my dickhead, just how I like, but would then instantly stop and instead do something else that didn't feel as good. Whenever he hit the spot right, I would make histrionic, exaggerated pleasure noises, hoping he'd get the picture, but he had a rather scattershot head-giving strategy and totally ignored my cues.

But he got the job done. I humped him and that felt awesome and he said something brilliant like, "You're humping me!" and then I fucked his face and he said "mmmmmph you're fucking my face" and I ejaculated copiously down his throat and he said "grglgrglgrgl ahhhhhh!" I lay beside him after my dick finished squirting out its jets of goo, and panted a bit. He wanted more nip punishment-- I was never clear on exactly what he wanted, so I guess I was no better at pleasuring him than he was at me, but eventually I did something to him and he tensed up beside me and forced out two very viscous wads of splooge into his thick black body hair.

He praised me for the size of my ejaculate, buried his head in my lap, inhaled luxuriantly at my pubic hair, and begged me to come back and give him more in between bouts of slurping down my still-thich tool. I told him I was just visiting from Brooklyn, and we ended up talking for over a half a hour about the differences between San Francisco and New York City, where he lived for 16 years in the 80s and 90s. It was a fun, lively conversation; whatever nipplemonster had possessed his body for the preceding 30 minutes or so left to inhabit some other body and he was completely normal and articulate. I liked talking to him and had to pry myself away so I wouldn't be too late for dinner.

My nephew was pretty pissy at dinner, for some reason-- he's a moody teenager and could not explain the mood-- and I found it rather trying and disappointing here at the end of the visit. I thought forlornly of the really handsome guy in the afternoon who also let me down, who I imagined having sex with languidly all afternoon and flooding with beautiful, gushing, grateful semen. I was getting cranky, too. But the nephew perked up as we lingered at the table on the sidewalk, me drinking a big girly glass of Moscato and him staring surly at the passing crowds, and suddenly a big brass jazz band with a hooting tuba and farting trombone rounded the corner, parked itself directly across the street from us, and began playing "You Gotta Believe In Something, Why Not Believe In Me." It was hilarious and they were very entertaining, if not technically brilliant, and stood there on that corner for about 15 minutes, playing various jazzy versions of fun tunes. Then then disappeared up the street to play elsewhere.

We walked around the neighborhood some chatting in the cool night air, the spell broken. I was really enjoying the night. At dinner I had thought about how Greg Brady had not really satisfied me, and well, I fucked two guys last week, I could do it again tonight! But I didn't want to just ditch my nephew again after he'd cheered up. It was getting later and later but the bars and restaurants were still festive and there were still people on the streets. But then my nephew declared that he was tired and would go to bed early. I asked if he cared if I went out for a while on my own again. He didn't care.

So I texted Albondiga, and also a beautiful stacked dude on Growlr who inexplicably wanted me to cum in him. I figured, let's try this again-- whoever gives me their address first gets the second fuck! Beautiful Stacked didn't get back to me at all. Albondiga replied instantly, saying he was just on his way home and would be there in 10 minutes. He didn't care how late it was. I made sure my nephew was ready for bed, then ran over.

Albondiga lived in an awesome huge apartment just up from the Castro. He was even cuter in person than in his pictures. He had left the front door open and was naked in his room, fussing about with candles and lighting and music as I entered. I love a nice sensual scene for fucking. I pulled him into my arms and ran my hands over his very smooth body, which only had bristles of hair here and there, on his chest, on his calves, on his forearms. He kissed beautifully. His face was rough with scruff-- a very nice contrast to that body that felt like butter. His lips were extremely seductive and liquid.

But he, too, gave frustratingly inconsistent head. But he too was happy burying his face in my pubes, wiggling his ass in the air, and pawing at my hairy belly. I submitted to this a while, enjoying the view of his taut, shapely body from this position, then I ate his ass to get really hard. Licking his balls or his thighs made him flinch, as if he were ticklish. But I found the magic combination-- pulling his dick down, and doing a circuit from sucking it to licking and sucking down the balls to flicking at the taint to poking my tongue in his hole to biting his thigh and back to the dick. That turned up the heat in the room considerably, and made my poor tired overworked dick get hard as a rock while he moaned with pleasure and quit flinching. I flipped him on his back and made out with him but he was already hiking his legs back, slicking up my dickhead with his hand, and guiding it to his innards. So I complied, stuck it in him, and fucked away.

He was slick and warm and lovely inside. He stuck his feet in my mouth rather aggressively as I sawed away at him. I decided, he is so cute, and so beautifully built, and so wonderfully slippery inside, I'll go with this-- I sucked his toes and licked his instep and bit his heel, and he moaned and I thought I saw all his chakras open to me or something. Now we were really fucking. I whaled away at his meaty bottom body and his asshole pulsed intensely all around my meat, and though I could have fucked him for an hour, it felt so good, I couldn't last in that vortex of pleasure very long. Just like last week, I found that the sensation of being close to cumming the second time around was electric and soul-shaking. I told him not to make me cum fast, to let me fuck him more, and he relaxed for a bit, but then was back at it, and I pounded my dick into him while it spurted out my manly essence.

He stared devilishly into my eyes while I unloaded, and kept milking away at me, guiding my head to his nipple with his hands and squeezing my dick inside with unseen muscles. I think the succubus inside Greg Brady had made it down the hill to Albondiga at this point-- I flicked at his nip with my tongue and lips while he clamped hard around my dickhead, sucking it into him over and over, not letting it go soft, and moaning about how good I was making his nips feel. I grappled his hard round shoulders and laid my hand alongside his face while I chewed away at his nip and felt him having his way with my rubbery dick in this most amusing way. Finally he said, "I'm not going to cum, but I want to keep playing with you." So we lay down together and wrapped ourselves around each other and kissed and touched and listened to the silence and watched the candles flicker. After a while he too asked if I would come fuck him again, and I told him I was leaving town. He was more playful than Greg Brady, and eventually, as I stroked his body all over, asked me if I lived with my boyfriend in Brooklyn. He was disappointed when I said yes; there are so many men out there starved for affection and I think he is one of them. We joked around gently and let the silence envelop us a little more, and I felt like I could fall asleep with him in my arms. But after a while he jokingly kicked me out. We chatted a little about nothing while I took a little sponge bath, and I walked back to the apartment for about 20 minutes or so in the eerie, silent, empty streets. Just before Mission Dolores Park a straight couple curled into each other under a street lamp, making out and looking into each other's face. In an alley a homeless person ambled away in the distance, laughing suddenly about nothing. The air was very cool and still. I'm going to sleep well tonight in the room with the ouija board and the bleached steer skull and the 48-star American flag.

I don't think I have it in me to fuck again tomorrow, though it's possible-- I don't fly out till 4. But suddenly San Francisco has turned into Sextown for me. Albondiga did not buy that I am "not San Francisco's flavor," when I'd put it to him that way. "Oh yes you are," he said, pointing out that they love "bears" (I hate being absorbed into that borg) and there are never enough tops. I'm definitely popular this go-round, though Albondiga was the only really cute guy I bagged this time. I've cum in four guys in a week here. Not bad at all. I've spread enough seed in California. Time to go back home.

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