web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: ...And Non-Performance

Saturday, October 19, 2013

...And Non-Performance

Then again, sometimes sex just fucking flows. There is nothing between your pleasure and your body and your partner's body and your partner's pleasure. And today I got that with The Really Handsomelich German Cocksucker. I spent the morning cruising for raw ass and waiting for a very late contractor to show up and give me an estimate; no one much was biting so I went to get lunch on the southern end of my neighborhood, not far from TRHGC's place, and he saw me close by on Scruff and invited me over to get my dick sucked. I back-burnered him a little bit as I had my lunch-- we are having sex an awful lot lately-- and then got played on Manhunt by a hot ass in Chelsea who was not for real but got me seriously boned right there in the restaurant. So I figured, what the hell, I'll go let this extremely good looking guy take care of my needs. And it was awesome, despite being like our fifth or sixth time hooking up. There is just no substitute for good chemistry. And good looks.

This guy is a shameless, tireless cocksucker, just like all the others-- he just can't get enough of my meat. And he always tells me he wants to make me feel good. But there is no performance at all with him. I am not inspired to, nor do I feel required to, say elaborately exciting things about what we're doing or my dick or his mouth or refer to him in any particular way or any of that. We just fucking love each other's body and face and dick. The things we say are simple and true and obvious. He is a bit taller than I like, and rather smoother than I like, but his body is so long, sensual, and beautifully elegant-- lightly and naturally muscled, a lovely healthy brownish tint to his teutonic skin. His dick is beautiful and long and hard and straight but he doesn't like me touching it too much, because he gets very sensitive, flows precum like crazy, and would cum if I spent too much time there. But when I put my hands on his lightly muscled chest, his tight, gently sculpted torso, impossibly flat and taut stomach, long lean but slightly swelling limbs, he sighs, his head tips back, his eyes close, and I know I am filling him with pleasure, overfilling him with pleasure. He clearly loves my dick but declares it in a straigtforward way, pulling it out of his mouth, admiring it matter-of factly, looking me in the eye with an open, honest face, and says, "I love sucking your dick." And I feel it when he sucks it. He loves my dick. I love his body. I love eating his ass and trying to probe him with my tongue. I would love to slip my bare bone in him. He seemed to want it today, hiking back his legs, exposing his hole to me frankly, and sighing how good it felt when I slicked up my dickhead with his precum and swirled it around the opening. But he is extremely tight. I could not get it in. I just held his body close to me, pressed into him, and slid my dick alongside his, slippery in his precum, only separating our bodies so I could admire his, see our dicks there together, drink it all in.

I think it helped that this time I smoked half of his customary pre-suck spliff. Not enough to get baked, but enough that as we talked and nuzzled and smoked, my body grew warm and pulsing and my dick hardened almost painfully in my pants. He sat halfway out the window, one foot on the fire escape and one on the floor of the kitchen, dick lolling out of the leg of his shorts, idly tugging at his foreskin, blowing the smoke out elegantly, like a European does, and I asked for a little. And when I felt my dick throbbing against my fly, I unzipped it and pulled it out and he got to his knees right there in the window and sucked me, making me ache even more. I was wearing grey cords and a black shirt with some bright neon stripes across the chest. My pale hard fat dick stood out starkly; it was almost like I was my own walking glory hole. He is beautiful with my dick in his mouth.

We had sex for almost two hours. He began begging for my load after an hour, but I didn't want it to end, I kept switching our position and the activity, but he wanted it so bad, I let him have it. This time when he felt my dick start oozing the hot salty sperm-clouded precum I flow with when I am sloooowly edging up to orgasm, he only sucked more greedily, and did not let up when my ejaculate thundered out. I heard him gulping and saw the bliss on his face at making me cum, tasting me cum, being a part of my cumming. I held his body and came inside him over and over. It was too intense, I had to pull out. He watched greedily as I jerked the last bits of cum out of myself, but wanted to drink even those. I was extremely sensitive and my whole body was twitching. But he wanted it and I let him have it even though it was actually rather excruciatingly.

And then I stroked his beautiful body and made out with him while he pleasured himself. He asked me to play with his hole. "I love the way you play with my hole," he said, again very matter-of-factly. So I played with his hole. I stroked his beautiful tight flank. I looked deeply into his eyes, scanned his face for the millionth time, and he shot long hot jets of beautiful spooge all over himself. And we just laughed and laughed.

He hopped up to clean himself up, and then apologized and checked his phone, which had been randomly bonging and chiming the whole time we were rolling around. It was his partner; apparently he was going to have to rush away and go to couple's therapy! We talked for a good while about our relationships, being open with other people, why our sex is so good together. The pot and the incredible release he'd given me had me very garrulous, almost cluelessly so; when it became clear I was holding him up I felt silly. He sort of shooed me out and I tripped out into the cool afternoon, surrounded by orthodox Jew children playing in their 19th century getups. As usual he msged me on Scruff, apologizing for the bum's rush and thanking me for the good sex. It's a nice little ritual.

Maybe I've found the one guy I can cum in over and over and not get tired of! I wonder if he will let me fuck him? God, the pleasure I'd feel at unloading my nuts deep inside his lovely, elegant, beautiful body! Ah well, we shall see.


  1. Do you think you'll lose a bit of interest after he gives up his ass? Ha! Just noticed I didn't say if but when...
    Cause there are two regulars I kinda feel the same about. Great chemistry that always makes me glad I get over that hurdle of wanting to find someone new. One guy, another top, says he want to bottom for me finally after three or four meets of oral only. I told him to play it by ear. I think he was just on a high after me eating his ass out good and blowing a huge load while sitting on my lap while I teased his hole. And I'm kinda afraid the magic will disappear after I actually blow my load inside him...

    1. I don't think so, Bruce. I don't feel the strong urge to turn him into a cum-crazy superbottom the way I did with, say, Ultra Meat. I kinda like what we do as it is, so the pleasure isn't in the idea of slow escalation or anything. There are some guys I like to fuck over and over, just usually with long breaks in between so I come to miss them a bit. And it's true, there are other guys that once I plant my seed in them I'm happy to move on. But I just have unusual chemistry with this guy. But I think I definitely need to "sprinkle some other flowers," as my father used to so charmingly put it, before I go back to my Teutonic beauty.