web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Intensity

Friday, February 14, 2014


Despite always saying (and feeling) like I respect a bottom's wishes with respect to raw fucking, if I am honest with myself I have to admit that the hottest sex is always with a guy who says he won't let me fuck them without a rubber, but then, in the intense heat of the moment when the chemistry has built between us to a point where there is only one more way to ratchet it up to perfect completely, he begs for it. When I'm on top of him, showing him with my body what it will be like to submit completely to me and accept what I so intensely want to give, he reaches under his own ass and grabs hold of my dick and pulls it in the unmistakable universal code for FUCK ME. It is intensely satisfying to know that I've given a bottom so much pleasure that he can only think about my dick inside him. Completing a bottom in those hot, deep moments is a gratification that almost no other experience in life can equal. All his scruples are dropped and there is only the desire for more pleasure, more of what I can do to him. So I do it. Today, an interesting-looking, wirily muscular black dude who was only up for giving me a blow job ended up on his back, my hairy body heaving on top of him, with my bare bone pushed in his ass as deep as it would go. And he pulled me to him hard, wishing all of me could go in, wishing there was more penetration to be had, an endless cycle of need and satisfaction.

This was a very unlikely hookup in the first place. This guy has hit me up on various apps and sites for a while now. The first approach was innocuous enough; we talked about hooking up fairly vaguely, as he said he lived in Westchester or something; I didn't put much stock in ever actually meeting and he disappeared. Then he appeared on another app maybe a month later, having apparently recognized me despite having different pictures, and suddenly, he was a little creepy. He sent a lot of really breathless, purple messages to me on, I think, Growlr, saying he wanted to worship me and give me everything I wanted blablabla. Obviously I like guys who are very into my dick and pleasuring me completely, but guys who talk like guy this are often completely full of shit. But I went along with it a bit. When he seemed truly persistent in a promising way, I asked if he would let me fuck him and load him up with my cum. He dodged the question a bit, saying I was the master or something like that. OK, fine, but something felt off. He would never just say "yes, I want your cum," which I really like hearing. But he wasn't scared away, at least. We talked very specifically about hooking up the next day, when he was supposed to be in Brooklyn. And, predictably, he completely flaked. I got the feeling he was spooked about the talk about seeding him.

He hit me up yet again maybe a week later, pretending like nothing happened, and I was annoyed. "You totally blew me off last time and said nothing, why would I make plans with you again?" He told me he had to take his mother to the hospital-- I've heard excuses involving grandfathers' funerals and neighbors falling downstairs and sisters'  houses burning down and all kinds of crazy things, all of which horrify me a bit in showing other people's willingness to hypothesize grave problems with their loved ones to get out of an uncomfortable promise to fuck with a stranger. I didn't believe him for a second, so I began ignoring him. And periodically I would get messages like "I guess you are just done with me now" or "Please sir let me make it up to you I will make you feel so good" and blablabla. I never encouraged it. One of his profiles had a link to some instagram and tumblr pages, and I managed to find a kind of Facebook pic for what seemed like an alter-ego of his, centered around some kind of rap act, with an accompanying blog tinged with a bit of general-purpose invective. I thought, loony.

Until today. I was supposed to juice up Handsome Fuckboy, my favorite bottom; that awesome muscle fuck the other day that went uncompleted because I couldn't cum in him freely left me insanely hungry for an ass that would not flinch when I let loose my orgasm. Handsome Fuckboy makes my dick so hard, he's so good at what he does, he's so much fun to plow… I asked him yesterday if today would be good. And he said yes, and we set up a time. But work was crazy today, and I had to push it back. He said it was no problem-- I'd told him how stressful the day was and how much I needed a good fuck and he said, "Well I'm here for you :)" which was very nice. An hour later the emergency was over, and I texted him immediately, hoping I could fuck the stress away, but he didn't reply. I'm sure all kinds of dudes want to plow this kid, so it's no surprise. But I was left truly out-of-my-mind horny for ass.

And then Intense Whacko reappears. "What are you up to," he said. And I said, "Looking for a good ass to fuck and seed." He said he wasn't sure about the seeding part, but it would be nice to "visit". I told him sorry, I wanted it bad, had to feel it, have a good one. He was not swayed, saying, "You can take the sure thing or bet on the great unknown." Ultra Meat has been sniffing around a lot lately, and I just took an HIV test last night, and told him I expected him to let me fuck him raw when I got the next negative result, but I know how hot and cold he runs; I was not in the mood. I could almost hear Intense Wacko tapping his foot.  Quickly realizing that I had no plan B, I told him it would be ok if he came over and sucked me off as long as he took his time and swallowed my cum. And then he started a very tedious conversation with me about whether or not I just view him as a cum hole. Well, uh, I like to think I'm a bit more sophisticated than that, but wtf? My profiles are almost purely sexual on all the sites and apps, and we never talked about anything but my dick in his orifices. He said he was on the way to the gym and it was now or never. He wasn't answering my questions about taking his time an swallowing and I was getting very annoyed. I pointed out that he wouldn't answer my questions and told him to go away. He wouldn't go away, but he wouldn't answer, either. He told me every time he got a block closer to the intersection where I'd said I live, saying, "Either you want me to suck you or not." I was pissed and ignored him, seeing who else was around. For a long time he seemed to have left. Then he said, "Don't be a douchebag, let me suck your dick, I'm not in a hurry."

At this point I felt kind of stupid for turning this into a showdown over whether he would drink my goo or not. Let me just get the fuck off, I thought, so I don't have to care about this any more. So I told him my address. And he came over.

He was very impassive when I opened the door. I feel like a lot of black dudes have a put-on don't-care attitude, but he seemed to also be a little prissy on top of that. He took off his shoes and jacket in the foyer, and I was sort of grinning at him; I couldn't just pretend like what just happened didn't happen. But he said nothing. I really liked his body. My dick was vibrating, I was so horny. I asked if he was OK, needed water or whatever, and he was all, naw. So I went up to him and kissed him to get things started.

Kiss was good. He was still acting a little funny. I suddenly had this fear that he was really nuts and was going to beat me up and take stuff-- something I never worry about. I don't know why he had such a weird effect on me. I led him back to the bedroom and faced him; he looked awkward and shy all of a sudden but we kissed again.

And then everything pretty much exploded. I have seen those videos of a desert-like landscape when the rain comes and suddenly everything instantly blooms. This guy was a desert, and the way I was kissing him and touching him made him snap. He curled into me, his hands were all over me, the hard exterior melted and the depth of his want for sensual contact was nakedly exposed. I passed my hand over his shirt and felt very thick, big nipples, and just touching them like that made his entire body electric. He pulled down my shorts and fished out my dick, which was not hard like his own bone-hard tool, which I could feel straining against his waist band; he stroked under my hairy balls with one hand and tugged lightly on my thickening meat with the other and received my kisses on his mouth, neck, and ear like a starving beggar receiving an unexpected bag of take out. He just emanated warmth into me; whatever he was doing to my genitals made me feel like I was puddling into his hands. When I asked him to get to his knees and taste my dick, he crumbled like he was completely helpless, hopeless, and there on the floor somehow ripped all his clothes off with Chippendale-like efficiency. The curves of his black body glistened brightly and he completely devoured my dick. I grew hard as a rock, and said, "Let me get comfortable, let me lie back on the bed," and I turned to hop up there, but he grunted and snorted and followed my movements with his mouth. I laughed, and changed my position, sitting down on the bed and intended to scoot over, and he never let me out of his mouth; we performed the entire maneuver with my tubesteak down his throat. We moved together like some kind of crazy water ballet-- he just did not want to give up my prize. I really loved this.

I positioned myself in the middle of the bed, with my arms behind my head, chuckling a little, and he rested his bald head on my thigh, curled the rest of his body around my right leg, planting his oozing dick in the instep of my foot. He slid his dick all over that curve in my foot as he continued to stuff my dick down his throat, eyes rolling in his head and throat gulping with shameless abandon. I cooed to him. "You like my dick, don't you? I won't take it away from you. That's your dick for today." I touched his scalp tenderly as I said it, and he crumpled anew, nodding his head almost with tears in his eyes. "You can suck my dick all you want. I'm giving it to you. You're making my dick feel so good. You're a good boy. Keep sucking." And it was all he needed to hear; as I spoke to him he practically got my foot pregnant humping against it. He was in love, in love with being my cocksucker.

I enjoyed this for a good long time. But his body was too appealing to me. His butt was really almost too big for me, but very shapely. His body hair was extremely wiry and had a rather stippled pattern like some black guys get; not my favorite, but he had a little hair on his back that was very sensuous to touch, and the skin all over his back was covered with an elaborate tattoo of a pair of wings and maybe some writing. His legs were tight and muscular, and his frame was almost perfect. I had to get my body on this. I finally managed to get him to disengage orally from my meat, and I kissed his lips, then pushed his body onto his back and climbed on top of him.

It was like he somehow fell down another rung; he'd been collapsing ever since I first kissed him. He wrapped his limbs around me tight and as I manhandled his knees and shoulders and chewed his neck, I pummeled his hips with mine. Something about his tight, thin, but meaty body just made me want to slam him into the mattress. He wailed and just rode along with me, and our hard thick dicks slid together. His wiry body hair was kind of abrasive on my dick, but his body felt too good. He was wearing some kind of cologne or lotion which was faint but smelled very good to me; I can still smell it on my hands.

I reared up on all fours and climbed over to his head, and matter-of-factly drilled my dick into his face. He flailed around me, viciously fisting his cock, thrilled with the sensation of being penetrated by me with that kind of intensity. I fucked his skull until I felt my cum rising, and then pulled out and looked him in the eye. He looked at me beseechingly. I got back on top of him and slid my dick down between his ass cheeks; they were thick and meaty enough to receive it almost like a cunt. And just feeling my dickhead sliding past his asshole was enough to unleash his desperate inner bottom. "Next time you come over, I want to fuck you," I said, riding his body hard but with precise, elegant strokes. "I want to feel you inside. You're going to bring your ass back to me and let me fuck it, aren't you?" He looked at me with teary eyes. I lowered my full weight onto him, feeling his body hair scrape all my skin. He slowly put his arms around me, and I whispered in his ear, "Get close to me, keep close, let's feel good. Feel our dicks together, two dicks, all that meat together, it feels so good." And I looked at his face again, and saw his thick lips trembling, but over and over, as if he were reciting a prayer. I held my ear a little closer; he was saying something barely audible. "What are you saying, baby? What is it?" He said it barely louder; he was saying, "fuck me... fuck me... fuck me... fuck me..." very quietly, as if convincing himself of what he wanted.

I smiled indulgently and grabbed my dick and teased his hole a bit. "I will fuck you next time," I said, "I know you didn't come over for that." And I got off him, and he dove for my dick again. Sucked me so hard it almost hurt. I could reach down and finger his asshole as he fucked me. He melted as soon as I touched it. He wanted it. Would we do it? I pushed him on his back again, and lay on top of him.

And he grabbed my dick with his legs bent sharply. He aimed it at his hole and arched his back. He pulled my ass down, trying to push me into him. I hovered there a bit, smiling into his face, and very theatrically licked my hand, slicked up my dickhead, and pushed into him.

He was tight. His body resisted. But I pushed with all my weight behind my hips. It went nowhere, and then suddenly, I popped into him.

And I fucked him good. Every inch. Long deep strokes. Bonus fuck! Raw dick, feeling everything, oozing precum into him to slick up the way. I held his hips tight and put all my weight through my chest onto his chest and just fucking drilled him. Nothing is more exciting to a bottom than having his hips held tight while he is being nailed. He's pinned down, all the focus is on the fulcrum of our fucking, all attention on what my dick is doing to him; all he can do is receive my pounding. He wailed and wailed; he was in heaven.

I stopped and panted. "I will cum if I keep doing that." He moaned a short moan. "Do you want me to cum in you?" "Wait," he said, "wait, wait, wait." I held still and he caught his breath now that my weight was off him some. I felt the urge to cum subside; maybe I leaked a high-pressure jet of cum into him very slowly. I fucked him again, slower strokes, more sensuous. I kissed him and he kissed me and I sensuously gave him my whole dick, over and over, nothing held back, feel me son, feel my whole dick, feel your bottomness, let's fuck forever, feel me feeling you. And then I knew I couldn't hold back. I wanted terribly to cum in him. But I pulled out. And I sprayed white cum all over his black body. I do admit I like that sight.

"PUT IT IN MY MOUTH MY MOUTH MY MOUTH," he cried, and I did, saying, "Slow baby, slow, it's so sensitive, AH, slow, AHHAHH it's too sensitive take it deep AH." He took me all the way down his throat and it was not so electrically jolting down there, felt warm and comfy and my last drops of cum drained slowly into him, and then he popped all over himself too; his orgasm was not that copious but he was covered with goo in the end.

His body kept rocking and rocking and jolting, almost epileptically. My dick slid out of his mouth. I kept touching him, fascinated; his muscles were so rigid, so thick. His face broke out into a wide smile. "Finally he breaks a smile!" I said, staring down into his face with my dick hanging next to it. He smiled wider, then stopped, as if trying to maintain that composure again from the beginning, that "whatever's cool" look, but then he smiled again. I told him I had to get something to clean him up with; all I could find was a dirty t-shirt in the laundry room. I brought it back and he was still jolting and shaking! "Are you STILL CUMMING??" I asked, incredulous, handing him the t-shirt. He rubbed it all over his body and continued convulsing, nodding affirmatively, then saying, "Once a guy <JOLT> ran right out <JOLT> before I was done!" I laughed. "'I thought you were dying or something,' the guy had said, and I was like, 'so you RAN??'" He finally stopped and fastidiously collected all our cum in my t-shirt. "I think I need another one," he said. "This is a lot of cum." I jumped up to get him another, calling over my shoulder, "That was some good two t-shirt sex, wasn't it," and he laughed.

I came back, gave him another t-shirt, and lay back on the bed and watched his body as he slowly got dressed again. His face was not all that handsome; almost handsome, almost Arabic. But his body was beautifully formed, not overly muscled, shaped and padded just right. He asked what I do and I told him and he said, "Doesn't sound very exciting." Harumph! So I asked him about his profile, which had said something like medical/artist/rapper. So he told me a little about that, not very articulately, but I could tell he felt strongly about it. I concurred that it was more exciting than what I do, which is not saying much. We had a drink of some juice and he very slowly put his shoes on in the foyer, very slowly collected his bag and his hoodie, looking at all our jackets and bags hanging in the hall. I was curious about him; I wondered why he was delaying like this. He commented on a cardigan of mine that I don't think is flattering, and a bag of my partner's that's kind of fancy. There was no talking while he fussed with his hoodie. Finally I said, "You're all intense online, and in person, you're really quiet and kind of shy." "I'm not shy!" he said, genuinely horrified. "Quiet maybe but not shy." He said these things so quietly I could barely hear him, barely louder than he had begged me to put my naked erection inside him and fuck him like a bitch in heat. He stared at my feet and another long moment passed in weird silence. He broke it saying suddenly, "I'm checking out your feet." And he looked me in the eye. I guess he has a foot thing. Was all this stalling just to steal glances at my feet? And then he finally turned to go, asked absurdly if the handle on the door was the door handle, and went through the door. As he went through I patted his thick round buttock with my hand and said thanks, and he turned and winked at me, and then went away.

It was pretty awesome sex; would have been better if I'd had the green light to seed him deep with his joyful accepting blessing. It would be no fun to squirt my seed in a guy who was not 100% in need of it. But maybe he will be back, and maybe he will take it.

Hilariously, right at the moment when this guy was shooting ribbons of spooge all over himself and suckling my spent dick, my phone had buzzed on the nightstand right in front of me. It was a message from the Horsehung Twink, saying, "Happy Valentine's Day :)" It turned out happy indeed! Horsehung Twink says he can't stop thinking of how I came in his mouth, he can't stop thinking about the taste of my cum. "Let's hang out again babe," this handsome tight little kid says to me. How do I have all these guys? How do I get all this ass? Intense!


  1. What a sexy fucker you are!

    1. You're too kind, big Jack! I'm glad you like reading about me fucking.

  2. Man I loved reading this! I am actually visiting NYC this weekend and would love to perhaps play with you handsome. :) Sooo...what would be the best way to get in touch? :) I plan on getting on A4A in a bit if you are on there.

    1. Glad you liked it! This blog is more a journal than another way for me to hook up… I think if I were fucking someone I knew was a reader I'd feel a little self-conscious. If you do happen to find me online while you're here and figure out it's me and we hook up, don't tell me you know who I am till after we are done!

  3. I would love to play tonight if you are around handsome and do exactly what you just described in your first paragraph please. :)