web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Well Enough Alone

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Well Enough Alone

Greed and hubris will be punished! Today I slipped my raw meat into a rather older guy, well into his 50s, who had a cute little body and a big fat dick, but longish gray hair and a big walrus mustache which together made him look like a diminutive Mark Twain with floppy 90's heartthrob hair.  I really was not attracted at all in person; online he had the stache but looked a little more solid; in person his features were rather fine and delicate, not something that turns me on. I am not sure if he was into me, either, or was just one of those extremely awkward, not-very-present guys who kinda don't know how to act during a hookup. Still high on yesterday's afterglow, I could only think of getting another notch in my belt-- finally getting to seed a nice little ass, which this guy displayed nicely in his pictures. So I soldiered on with that aim, thinking it would be amusing to recount the story of that time I jizzed inside Mark Twain while staring at his ludicrous mustache. But I should have left well enough alone and kept yesterdays hot hot sex as my lingering erotic memory.

He didn't seem to want to kiss much, and that mustache really just made it not hugely appealing. But when I felt him up he had a nice tight body, nice meaty chest, and I did confirm that he had that sweet little round ass back there. His breathing was fast-- dudes are easy-- and he grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch, which despite his small size was all full of an rather long, fat monster of a dick. "You're making my dick hard!" he said gruffly, and I thought, ok, we can work with this. My own dick wasn't doing much. But I got him on his knees and told him to get to work on me. "Whatever you want," he said, and he did a nice job sucking on me, getting me thick but not completely stiff.

We moved to the bed and he kept working, and it felt nice, but this wasn't going to do it. A big part of the pleasure of being blown is admiring a dude with your dick in his face, and the floppy hair was a curtain covering the action, and then when I pulled it back, there was a big jersey-barrier of lip-hair in the way. His ass, however, beckoned to me seductively atop muscular thighs. So I told him to stay as he was, and slid down, and went to work on those globes.

At this point things heated up. He really liked my attention to his hindquarters, and his balls were also huge-- I get with an awful lot of big-balled dudes, I like it-- and with his face down, I thought, I can drill and seed this dude no sweat. I reached up to hold his dick while I ate and realized, much to my dismay, that he had a gigantic prince albert in his fat, tasty dick. I honestly loathe penile piercings. It was like having chocolate-almond ice cream when I was a kid-- you have this sweet, velvety treat that is ruined by hard rubble that some moron put inside. I love dick but when you put a big piece of metal in it, it's basically impossible to enjoy; you can't suck on it without it rattling around your teeth, and even holding it and feeling the cold metal is an annoyance to me. So I pretty much left it alone.

But my dick did get steely hard just working on the curves of his ass. And so I mounted him and aimed at his innards-- I did manage to push in a bit, but he was still too tight. Nothing more eating can't cure. He was moaning and gyrating and I felt my tongue sink in easily now. So I mounted again, and this time slid right in to the base. "You really opened that ass UP!" Mark Twain sang out, half-muffled by the mattress in his face. "Hard dick!" I admired the view of his very round, fuzzy mounds accepting my hard straight tool, the small of his back taking the shock of each pounding thrust. "I hope you're not going to cum yet!" he called out. I was not, thank you.

He was not velvety slick inside, so I figured I'd have to lube this one up; spit alone wouldn't do it, as whatever magic body chemistry my oozing dick has with the inside lining of some dudes wasn't happening with him. So I pulled out to slick up. And as I lubed my tool, it felt like there was… I dunno, sand? Little small pellets on my dick. And the lube was reacting with whatever he had cleaned out with and was making a weird consistency. I kept wiping off the pellets and putting on more lube, hoping to get the consistency right, but completely lost my erection at this point.

So, back down on my knees to eat him out some more, and get the erection back. Except now he was medicinal with lube-- I really hate getting lube of any kind in my mouth, which is why I prefer spit and precum-- and my dick had that strange, astringent texture slathered all over it. I ate and ate and ate and finally got hard enough to go back in. I mounted again, and pushed, and immediately, I felt that reaction again-- noticeably more astringent as soon as my dickhead touched his asshole-- and away went the erection again.

Very, very frustrating, for both of us. I finally told him what was going on, asking if maybe he'd used soap or something to clean out. "Soap?" he asked quizzically. "No, just water. I'm sorry!" I felt bad, but I wasn't sure he'd even want to continue. He said he wasn't in any hurry, he loved having his ass eaten, and would do whatever I wanted. He rolled on his back and I saw that he wasn't hard at all any more, either.

At this point it *really* was just a matter of pride. I figured if I can get hard one more time, I'll just stroke myself until I'm very close, then stick it in him and juice him up and score one for the team. I hate thinking about sex this way, but there had to me *something* to show for all this work. So again I was head-down in his ass, this time from the front. It was a very shapely groin, I must say. I did get hard again. I did get close. I told him to flip over. It was getting good. But in the end, I decided, fuck it. Let me just glaze his cheeks and get him on his way. So I popped all over his mounds, streaking it this way and that, covering him good. "You weren't kidding, that's a lot of cum!" he said, as his cheeks jiggled and looked for all the world like a well-executed croquembouche. I admired my handiwork for a while, then got a towel to clean him up with.

Luckily things were not incredibly awkward as we dressed; he asked a bit about our books and things and so we managed to have a rather normal conversation. He could not look me in the eye, however. And when he went to leave we just had a pat-pat kinda hug and off he went.

Of course, to rub things in and make me feel worse about expending a load on someone I wasn't into and didn't have any chemistry with, Handsome Fuckboy texted me about fifteen minutes later, asking if I was free. I could have spent all afternoon inside him! And he is one hot, skilled little bottom. Ah well. You can't win em all.


  1. Replies
    1. And I do, Soul, I do. But sometimes just an ass is not enough!