Tonight I fed a big wet pulsing load to a painfully cute guy. There's cute and then there is cute; some guys anyone would think were cute, and then some guys were made cute specially for me. This was that kind of guy. A little dorky but also very manly, big nose, handsome beard, handsome hairline, deep eyes, beautiful neck (it's a real thing for me), big hands despite rather spindly arms, strong hairy legs, a nice-framed torso that is not gym-sculpted but merely built on great bones. And speaking of bones… his wang was something ancient Greeks would build a statue of and worship. At least two inches longer than mine, straight as an arrow, at most a fraction of an inch thicker-- so that holding them together and jacking them made us look like twins-- beautiful fat hairy nuts. But just a huge fuckin dick. The drawback was he's 6'2, which is typically way over my height limit except for oral service, and he insisted online over and over on getting fucked and seeded. The height and his pictures were not doing it for me-- he looks nothing like them, except the first public one; the others were kind of weird and not flattering. The gigantic tool was not prominently featured. He demurred when I asked for a rear view so I had no idea what I'd be working with. I really wanted to get off, and the guy I was supposed to fuck tonight bailed on me, so I was horny and frustrated. I kept trying to steer him to the servicing proposal, but he just really wanted to get fucked. Other guys that I really would like to fuck for sure were hitting me up but not being as solicitous. I wavered and knew I would suffer if I didn't take a sure thing. So I made a deal: if he sucked me and kissed me real nice, I'd stick it in him and juice him up at the end. This seemed to satisfy him. He wanted to take care of a few things and then take a shower before I left, "30 minutes max," so I prepared to be flaked on. But he also asked for more pix, which I sent-- a bunch of juicy cumshots that I hoped would keep him interested. He sent back some doughy, uninspiring pictures of himself that showed his dick but again did not showcase its MONSTROUS LENGTH AND FORMIDABLE BEAUTY. And then, a bit later, he told me he was ready right when he said he would. So I drove over. And instead of the ass fuck he insisted we do, I got a mind fuck instead. But oddly, I wouldn't class this as a failed encounter… just a weird one.
When I arrived at his glittering new hotel, inexplicably located on a tawdry, sooty block in West-Anus-By-The-Creek, Queens, he opened the door to reveal a face that radiated a natural handsomeness. He looked absolutely nothing like his pictures, barely even recognizable. I wondered if they were not even him, though after we had sex and were lolling around in the afterglow I broached the topic, and he acted horrified and embarrassed and insisted that they were him. Odd. But I was completely taken aback, and hugely turned on by the idea of this dude working on my meat. His body was trim and cute in a tight pair of jeans, nothing like the doughy mess in the pictures. He turned to lead me into the room and his ass showed up very shapely in the jeans. I reached out to appreciatively manipulate a cheek while he walked away from me, chatting all the while about whatever, and it made him stop and turn and say, rather awkwardly, "Well, hello!" I apologized and said I just had to admire it some. I thought it might mean he was one of those guys who needs to talk and get-to-know first before the clothes come off and everything. So that was OK, I can roll with that. But it was kind of the first of a series of awkward hitches.
He finally turned and faced me and we kissed a little bit. As predicted it was really uncomfortable; I just don't like kissing up to someone that much taller than me, it feels almost cosmically wrong. But his breath, I noticed, was intoxicating, as was the scent of his skin, which was sliiiightly scented with something not at all offensive, but also let through the clean, masculine scent of his warm skin. "So are you OK with the 6'2 now?" he challenged me; perhaps I'd hit a nerve when I'd told him online that I wasn't much for fucking tall guys. "Well, you could get on your knees and you'd be a lot shorter," I said, and he laughed, and I moved to pull out my dick, saying, "And I could let this out for you to work on." But he actually wasn't having it. Instead, he said something amused and dismissive, kissing me again, and then saying, "You're kind of a shit-talker, ain't ya?" I laughed, deciding he was not my typical google-eyed submissive bottom, but now I was standing there with my dick in my hand. I decided to pull back a bit and we just made out more, still standing at the foot of the bed, and he kissed very nicely but that SCENT coming off him, and being exhaled from his lungs, had me hardening in the open air. I could feel him responding in his pants as well-- and that was when I got the first hint that he had an anaconda coiled in his underpants. This only made me harder. To help things along a bit, he conspicuously did not kneel, but sat at the edge of the bed-- a position I actually loathe for cocksucking; it's incredibly inelegant and awkward-- and just held my dick and kissed me more. At this height it was much more pleasant for me to make out, and the warmth of his hand on my meat was very arousing.
After a while I took it on myself to just peel most of my clothes off, and he followed suit much more slowly, until we had him in nothing but a pair of slick lycra boxer briefs with that monster prick snaking beautifully to the side under that slick fabric. His behavior, except for the kissing, reeked of awkwardness and discomfort, but the dick don't lie, he was turned on. I like a guy who tends to follow my lead, so I think I was being awkward too. But we were both awfully excited.
It actually took a bit of maneuvering to even get us to the bed, with him underneath me, and our dicks aligned, mine sliding thrillingly alongside that warm, heavy sack of nuts he had. He even resisted my typically very effective way of spreading a bottom's thighs with my own and having him hitch them over me so I grind into him just right. For someone who really wanted to get fucked, he was awfully resistant to getting himself in anything like a dick-taking position. He still hadn't sucked me. It felt very much like having sex with another top, especially with that tight straight leg thing, no hint of exposing the asshole to vulnerability… except that even most tops give in and go with my desires. Very, very odd.
But he was so cute I just went with it. And he again said, "So are you rethinking tall guys now?" I looked him in the eye, and made a wry face, and said, "I can forgive a lot for a cute face. And you have a very" *smack* on the lips "cute face". He smiled hugely, but was still awkward enough that when my gaze on his face lingered too long or was too intense, he had to wink, or say a little something. But I soldiered on.
He finally blew me a little, and it was very nice, but quite aggressive with a lot of hand work. But it finally had him exposing his naked ass to me. He had an unexpectedly thin waist, narrow hipbones, flat hairy stomach, and beautifully swelling buttocks rising from below. I instantly slid off the bed and put my face in them. And at this point he finally seemed to let loose a bit. He pushed his ass in my face and moaned with pleasure at every new spot I ventured to lick, particularly liking being licked where the root of the penis joins the nut sack, a typically sensitive spot that I fuckin love to suck on and tongue. His bone was hard enough to cut diamonds. And I sucked it some, I had to. Suck some, suck the nuts, lick the taint, tongue the hole, chew the cheeks, around and around. My own dick, as soon as I tasted his, was like a ramrod.
At this point most of the awkwardness was gone, except that whenever I told him I wanted something, he simply refused to comply. And at one point-- he was the kind of guy who randomly starts taking during sex, but didn't do it enough to make it very annoying-- he said, a little mockingly, "You're so DOM." "I can't help it," I said, "I was born this way." He laughed but continued to ignore me and do as he pleased.
Again there was just such an intense attraction there that I kinda didn't care. As time went on he was more and more able to look me in the eye without flinching or winking, just look at each other deeply. We 69ed, which was amazing; I somehow took that monster all the way down to the nuts and held it in my throat while he worked me dick in his own way-- holding his hips, gazing helplessly at his hairy balls, his hairy belly, that fat fuckstick right in my face. I ate his ass more and fingered it and it was liquid and opened. I wanted to fuck him for real now, I really, really wanted it.
I positioned him to take me. And he became extremely awkward at this point, and said, "Let me pee first." I have had this request before, so it didn't faze me too much. I just asked, "How are you gonna pee through THAT," gesturing to the lead pole sticking out of his groin. "I'll just piss in the sink," he said. "That's one benefit of being 6'2!" He went in the bathroom and I laid back in the bed, luxuriating in the anticipation of plowing this handsome hung dude silly. He took a good bit of time. When he came out, he was soft again, and I was getting there myself. And from this point on, his truculence was very, very distracting. He sucked my dick some more and his pole was hard again right away. But he really didn't want any direction from me, even to slow down a bit because he was using his hand to much and made me feel like I would cum before I was even hard again. His resistance was killing my buzz, which made me less and less hard. And then he got on top of me and positioned himself like HE would plow ME. I went along with it, a little amused, but he could tell by how my dick was reacting how far this was going to get him. We fooled around some and I tried to get him in position to eat his ass again. But he would not budge. Instead he kept positioning me again like a bottom, poking me with his huge prong.
"Well, this is a real switch-up, isn't it," I deadpanned when he'd done this. My dick was like, gone. He laughed and let me go from the wrestling hold he'd put me in. "I'm just trying to make your dick hard!" he said. "The best way for that to happen is to let me eat your ass again," I said, kissing his still very handsome face. He demurred. I frankly said I was surprised; online he'd been all about getting fucked, and now he was acting like he wanted to fuck me. "Well, it might be nothing, but I feel my stomach growling, and I think maybe it would not be a good idea." I said it was fine with me if we did what we'd been doing, but that it's a huge turnoff to me to get fucked for sure. We stood up and faced each other, and stood at the window, looking at the Queensborough bridge lit up right outside. I wondered if this was going to totally kill the mood. I desperately wanted to plow him now, and he was turning into RoboTop. But he folded into me and we kissed and touched each other; both of our dicks were soft now. But he felt so good. I just ran my hands over his body, and occasionally hefted his soft but very heavy meat and ample nuts. It was nice. He was fuckin weird… but it was nice.
"Well," I said, "I guess there's nothing left but for me to work on this, then." And *I* dropped to *my* knees and sucked his meaty dick, which got a bit harder but not a ton. But it was so awesome in my mouth that my boner reappeared, like, instantly. And this excited him, and he pulled me back onto the bed and we resumed our humping and 69ing and, occasionally, just staring into each other's face and stroking our dicks. His behavior was completely at odds with his very frank, obvious attraction to me. I have no accounting for it. But I wanted to get as much out of his beautiful face, dick, and skin as I could. So, somehow, two hours passed. Whenever he got me close, I told him not to make me cum, and that's the one command he would obey. "I really want to taste your cum," he said. "We can fuck next time. This time, I want to taste it." I knew he was just visiting, and didn't know if it was even possible for there to be a next time. But I figured this is how it's gonna be.
So after the fourth or fifth approach to the edge, I told him, "You gotta suck it outta me now, man, I'm gonna go crazy." And finally he obeyed me, positioning himself between my thighs so I could admire that long, elegant back, that thick handsome straining neck, that beautiful face all full of my meat, and he brought me to the edge, all on display for me like that, and then I was squirting in his mouth. He clearly loved it and lapped it up and kept me cumming and cumming.
"WOW," he said, "you weren't kidding; you came a LOT." Two hours of edging will do that, son.
I pulled him up beside me and kissed him and stroked his body. He wanted to cum too and I wanted to see that beautiful organ shoot. We made out and he lost all inhibition; his face was completely open and full of overwhelming pleasure as I touched his body, held the base of his mile-long dick while he fisted the end-- a real two-hander, it was-- and then fondled his nuts or his hip or his thigh. And when he got close, he sat up, straddled me, put my dick near his butt, and, sitting atop me, made himself ejaculate beautiful fat ropes all over his looming torso. It was an extremely impressive sight. There's nothing like a big handsome guy with a big handsome dick and a big handsome torso shooting a big handsome load up in the air all over the place. Pretty fantastic. I got a bit of it on my body but didn't mind.
He collapsed down beside me and we talked a bit about where he is from and what he does-- he is flight crew for an airline and typically doesn't lay-over in NYC. He had actually said, during a lull in the sex earlier, that he really liked being with me and, "Maybe, next time, we could, I dunno, have some dinner." I was taken aback at that point, not wanting to explain that I was hitched, that was a bit much, and wait, aren't you just sucking my dick and waiting for me to cum in you? Now in the afterglow, I felt like I should say something, about not being single. We were affectionate and intimate and I kinda didn't want to spoil it. He was so handsome and saying nice things about me. All in all, a very weird, off-kilter experience.
Slowly I got dressed and we talked about nothing much, his job, NYC, my foot which is in a soft brace. I couldn't keep my hands off him and we kept kissing and touching. In the comfort of the afterglow, I finally asked, "Are you normally a top, or what?" He insisted he was completely versatile. "You have extremely toppy energy," I said. "I thought I was gonna get raped tonight." He laughed and said he was just kinda feeling things out. I didn't take it all too much to heart… it was odd but pleasant and the time had flown. I said my goodbyes and inhaled his intoxicating scent one last time.
If I were single, what would these experiences be like, I wondered? When I *was* single I had no confidence and often wilted completely in the presence of very cute guys, almost unable to perform. A friend once told me that a lot of behavior I get from sex partners that I can't understand might stem from my intensity, my affectionate attentiveness, which for someone who is alone and hungry for that, is much different than it is for me, comfortable and safe in my relationship every night, and just doling out the kind of sex with strangers that I happen to really, really like here and there. Maybe this guy was keeping the fuck as a trump card to see me again. Maybe I came on much stronger than he is used to. Who knows.
When I got home, I did email him, and tell him that I felt bad for shooting him down, and told him I wasn't single. And that I wouldn't mind getting together again and yadda yadda. We'll see what happens, if he replies or not, if I ever fuck him or not...
Great story man. Now I want pictures!
ReplyDeleteThanks Jack! Ever since I took the pictures a couple weeks ago of that other dude blowing me, I suddenly want to do it all the time. At one point the guy last night looked so good I was just DYING to break out the phone and snap a picture. But I'm fighting to remain a 20th century man of concentration and presence in this 21st century of distraction and mediated experiences. So you'll just have to take my word for how fuckin nice he looked with a mouth full of my fuckstick.
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