Rapid Service

Today I drowned an obliging cocksucker in eight days' worth of surplus seminal fluid from my poor, beleaguered balls. Last week was intense for work, with me routinely staying up past two or even three to get urgent stuff done, and unable to get even 5 or 6 hours of sleep for a long stretch. The intense schedule extended into the weekend, and I've long kept to my promise only to cum when other dudes make me cum, so I went without, thinking I could make up for it fairly soon. But all that stress and lack of sleep gave me an insane cold sore, which then got infected, swelled up like the Elephant Man's lip, and pretty much meant I wasn't going to get any ass THIS week, for sure. On top of all that our apartment is a construction zone, with renovations to both bathrooms leaving everything covered with fine layers of dust, and general disorganization. My dick was pretty low on my list of priorities… until today. Things are finally calmer at work, some stressful complications with the renovations are past, and I found myself in Manhattan picking up some materials with an hour or two to spare. And luckily for me, New York City is stocked with an endless supply of men who seek tops who just want to be serviced with no reciprocation. I got on adam4adam, looked to see who was in Chelsea, found a furry older guy whose name promised he had one thing on his mind and that was tubesteak squirting slimy goo down his throat. I asked him if he wanted mine, he said he did, I asked him where he was, and he told me two avenues away, I told him my cell, he texted me his address, and within three minutes of hailing this guy my pants were on his floor and my neglected meat was being slurped slowly up between his lips, while my balls tingled in anticipation.

He gave excellent head. He was older than his pictures and not built as well, but he still looked perfectly nice and I wasn't there to make sweet sweet love to him-- I was there to get the cum sucked out of my nuts before they explode. I told him I couldn't even kiss because of this gross lip, which is now no longer swollen but still covered with a gross scab. Weirdly, the scab kinda matches my beard, so you don't notice it unless you look closely if you don't know it's already there (in which case it looks like a dinner plate and is still pretty horrifying). He didn't care. I dropped my pants on his floor and stepped out of them and got on the bed and he knelt between my legs and said, "Tell me how you like it." I told him just to start out slow, and he grunted around in my pubes, licking tentatively at the still soft meat and the hugely swollen testicles hanging below. And he sucked me up and a steady stream of narration spewed from my lips as he worked me over. A good cocksucker actually likes the feeling of a soft dick hardening and thickening on his tongue, and when he got me halfway there and my dick began pulsing inside him with each heartbeat, he exclaimed with pleasure.

Other than the verbal direction, I just lay there like a pork chop, limbs spread out limply, just getting my fucking dick sucked. And it was awesome.

It didn't last too long-- I checked the timing of our texts and saw that maybe 20 minutes passed from me heading to his place and my standing on his stoop to leave. But he managed to get me to the edge for the last two or three of those minutes, and I told him in desperate, helpless tones to keep me there, just let me feel it, let my nuts go into overdrive churning out even more cum to shoot down his throat, and he did, he kept me there, and my dick got into that superhard state where it feels like an animal with a mind of its own straining away from my crotch, and then completely without warning I was ejaculating in him.

He guzzled me down good and I exclaimed whatever inane things it occurs to a dude to exclaim when his sperm is joyously exiting his body and jetting into the slick, inviting orifice of another's. He sucked me hard while I shot in him and truly, truly drained me dry.

When I was done shooting into him and he had made sure to suck every drop of what I had produced out of my cumtube, he sat up, looked me in the eye with amazed delight, and said, "I *love* how you coached me! Some guys just lay there, and you don't even know if they like it, and you have to judge by their reactions what to do… but you just *coached* me!" Call me coach. I laughed and began pulling my clothes on so I could get back to work. "I *really* needed that," I said, and told him how long it had been since I last got off and why. "This must have been some kind of record," he said, "for an online hookup." It probably was. I'm not a big fan of quickies, but when you're dragging around as much spooge in your sac as I was, and had the week I had, you just want a dude to fucking get you off and LIKE it. And he got me off! And he liked it! He's busily digesting my ejaculate as we speak over there in Chelsea, and my nuts are no longer twin anvils in my scrotum. Life is good!

Next week I'm on vacation and it can't come too soon, but I don't think I'm going to get off. I'll come back well-rested but full of spunk! Literally! Who will I shoot that into? Can't wait to find out.