He opened the door and his face was about what I expected, and he was very built, but unlike in the pictures, it was an ample, fleshy musculature. He's hairless and with hairless guys, especially Asians and blacks for whatever reason, I need a fairly hard manly body if you're not sporting some hair on your skin. This dude's skin was baby-soft, as smooth as the surface of a balloon, and all the curves were just as round. Not a turnon for me. His mannerisms were very giggly and boyish and bordering on Urkel-like. My heart sank. He led me through his shithole of a Chelsea apartment, which was quite dark except for all the porn flashing on a few screens. Horrible, HORRIBLE house music was blaring. He took off his clothes, and his body was pretty awesome, but still, just too round, too ample, too much, not hard, not manly. Very muscular and yet somehow also feminine. I thought, well, he wants my cum. I can shoot my cum in him. I just gotta get my dick hard and put it in that meaty frame and I'll be golden.
We kissed some but I figured I really needed to just eat that big meaty ass to get stiff. So I pushed him over and went to work. He actually sucked my tongue into his hole somehow; I thought, I can work with this. But that porcelain skin, that cartoonishly round bubble butt, was not making me hard. I started to get that feeling that I might cum even though my dick was limp. He made appreciative noises over the mindless, inane pounding of that horrible, faggy club music. Ay chihuahua.
My dick was swollen enough for me to feed it to him, so I figured I'd see if he could suck me hard. But he so clearly had no interest in sucking dick; he wrapped his hand around it, stuck the very tip in his mouth, and made chicken head movements-- absolutely worthless, the most pathetic head ever. I tried eating him out some more. We shifted positions on his bed and I saw his shape in its full, straining glory from behind-- he was really impressively built, but just not in the way I like. It was hopeless and I told him so. "It's ok," he said, looking at my flaccidness, "it happens sometimes." And he giggled non-threateningly. I rather nonchalantly asked, as I insouciantly pulled on my sweater, "I guess you're not much for giving head, are you?" He giggled that giggle again and said, "Not really." "That's *too bad*" I said pointedly. And I got on the rest of my stuff and left.
Outside his apartment, I shamelessly checked out all the sites and apps. There were other dudes who had hit me up in the half hour I was dealing with Built Black Frog. One is a very cute guy who wants to blow me tomorrow, "from 1 to 3 or from 5:30 to 8," like some kind of Comcast Fellatio Consultant with an arbitrary, inflexible service window. One is a guy I've been trying to fuck for a year on Scruff, who was so upset to miss my presence in his neighborhood, as he was at the movies with his mom when I texted. And so on and so forth. Maybe I'll try my luck with the Comcast Fellator tomorrow... but I'm really sorry I didn't just go over to Skittish Zeus's and use my sexual svengali powers to draw out the sex for as long as it took to make me feel satisfied-- I probably could have gotten all I wanted but I just like my dudes to be enthusiastic. Or I should have just freakin gone uptown and drilled the really handsome guy. But no! I was lazy and greedy and got nothing in the end. And I've been punished. Will I ever learn?
So, you're still carrying your load waiting to release it? Next time, listen to your gut. This is a lesson well learned.
ReplyDeleteIf only my gut wasn't telling me three different things… and guys could be relied on. Skittish Zeus had spent all this time aggressively pursuing me and fucking around with his pix, which wouldn't show up, and then got shy when I said I'd come over. Midtown Hottie has always blown me off. The Frog seemed like a sure thing!
DeleteLuckily I like the feeling of overflowing with pent-up cum and desperately needing it sucked out of me. Whoever gets this load ought to be pretty happy!