Paradox

Yesterday I got beautiful oral service and then fucked a wet, slimy load into a willing, hungry body, cumming harder than I have in a long time-- but it was that old paradox: The hottest, most physically satisfying sex is so often with guys I am least attracted to.

Choking

Well, tonight was a new one. It was a guy who has been rather ardent in his pursuit of me on BBRT more or less since I got here. For the first few days I was sticking my dick in dudes all over the place, but then there was just too much going on with family for me to meet up with this guy. He was a big meathead-- about my height, but very muscular with huge guns and a big dick, who for whatever reason was just all about me shooting one of my big loads inside him. Tonight I did a few errands with my mom, and one of my nephews wanted to hang out, but I was feeling over-socialized again. The big meathead said he would be free tonight a little late. He was honestly unusually well-spoken and polite for a big meathead, I must say. So I decided to set aside my evening for him. But the more we chatted, the more it became clear he was one of those bottoms who needed this and that and also the other thing to make a fuck just right. Nothing dampens my enthusiasm than a bottom with a lot of recherché needs. But I wanted to fuck that body. So ok, I did everything he asked for, except put on the fucking mask he left for me on the side table by the stairs as I went up. ("It will honestly annoy me to wear it," I said in the flurry of texts listing all the clauses and codicils required to close the deal on this late night fuck, garnering me a ":(" but a "no not a deal breaker at all" also, thank God.) I slipped in the side door. I crept up the back stairs slowly but deliberately. I went through the various rooms as instructed, and found him face down on the bed, heartbreakingly beautiful ass clad in tight black briefs (that was my request!). I refrained from kissing him (ugh I hate guys who insist on this). And I fucked him and I was aggressive and rough like he demanded… and yes, in the heat of the moment, Dear Reader, I choked him.

My Dick Is Getting An Awful Lot of Exercise

Tonight I wanted some time to myself, after back-to-back event-packed evenings with family members since I've gotten to my home town-- I can only handle so much socializing before I get completely worn out. I imagined having a little dinner by myself, a nice drink on a patio somewhere, and maybe some quiet time with a book and a cup of coffee in a little bakery across town that is open late. But I actually neglected to bring any books on the flight; I read all the ones I bought recently while lying in bed during my kidney stone lost weekend. So I of course ended up cruising all the apps and sites while I ate my burger, and keeping it up at the quiet bar I had the cocktail at, to the point that I ran the battery into the 10% charged zone searching for some mellow oral service maybe. Almost on one was biting except one guy who was 400 feet away from me on Grindr while I had dinner, in a grocery store across the parking lot, apparently. He couldn't host. He didn't know a place to suck my dick outside (it's a beautiful night here, after a sweltering day-- perfect dick sucking weather). I gave up on him, then on everyone, and drove back to my sister's, intending to maybe just catch up on some work, or talk to her if she was home. But at the last turnoff before her house, I decided to pull over and check the sites again. And an oral sub had hit me up on adam4adam. Perfect! He was a little doughy and maybe 4 years older than me, but I kinda liked his face, which had a sort of dive-bar-house-band-musician look about it, with a goatee, long hair, and the inescapable traces of rather hard living in it. But I liked his face, with his intelligent eyes and rather large nose. And "oral sub" is always a turn on. So I told him I was looking for someone with stamina to edge me for as long as I could stand it. He replied saying he had great skill orally but was rather new to bottoming. I told him to text me if he wanted to suck my dick and drink my cum-- I added that my phone was about to die so it had to be arranged quickly. He instantly texted me, I instantly had the address, and within five minutes he was between my legs nuzzling my soft dick, trying to coax it into a hard cum-pistol.

An Old Friend

Today I squirted my sperm into the slender, hard, really just very very delicate seeming little body of the guy I kept fucking last spring here in my home town while I was taking care of my mother. I don't know what it is about this guy. He's not exactly what you'd call cute-- I mean, kind of, to me at least, but I don't know if many others would think so-- and he is so slim, with arms barely more than twigs really, and thin legs that swell with lean muscle the way a frog's might. He's gone vegan so he seems even leaner and lighter than before; I hear a bit about his life and see pictures of his exploits in the mountains on Facebook, where we've become friends, and think, this is so not the kind of guy I usually fuck, let alone fuck over and over. But he really, really keeps me coming back for more. I don't know what it is about these little guys that brings out something a little brutish in me: I grip his body around his hard little waist a little more firmly; I grind my body into his a little more roughly and press my weight into his minuscule frame more heavily; and I fuck my fuckin fuckstick into him with all the force my bulky frame can put behind my hips, fucking all the way in, all the way out, slamming against his body, making the headboard pound against the wall with noisy knocks narrating each mindless, animalistic thrust. And he just loves it. He holds me tight, wraps his legs around mine and hitches them firmly against me, planting the soles of his feet against my calves like a monkey holding onto a tree in a hurricane. I fuck him like crazy and he shakes with pleasure and kisses me so hard my lips could bruise, saying "You feel so good you feel so good." And he feels good too, and I cum in him just as hard and animalistically as I fucked him. It's good.

Aw Yeah

I have that total-body tired-but-sated feeling that only comes from fucking the living hell out of a bottom for an hour. There is no better feeling in the world… except spending the last twenty minutes of that fuck session right on the edge of cumming, feeling the bottom's body heat and sweet slick bodily secretions enveloping every inch of your rigid tool, which you've got buried as deep in him as it will go, looking into his handsome face, thrilled to be stuffed with meat, with his legs wrapped around yours and his arms wrapped around your back, taking everything you have to offer. That feeling just might be better. But I'm going to feel this post-fuck cell-deep satisfaction for the whole rest of the day. Knowing my cum is safe in his belly and not going anywhere-- he wanted to end by sucking the cum out of my nuts, and I was happy to lay back and oblige, soaked and breathless as I was by the end-- well, knowing he's keeping my cum inside him for good just adds that extra bit of satisfaction. It's good to be a top.

Shooting My Gun

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Open

It's been a while since Ultra Meat has come by. He told me a while back that he had started school and was crazy busy, and even his profile says he doesn't have much time. I have to admit that one of my more perverse personality traits has been awakened by this lack of attention to me: now that he is largely unavailable, I suddenly want him. Despite his amazing body and sweet disposition and genuine if inexplicable love of my dick and my schlubby body, I always pushed him to the back of potential sex partners. But he checked me out on Scruff a few days ago and reactivated his attractiveness. Today I had hoped to hook up with someone visiting from London with an amazing ass who says all the right things, but he wasn't around this afternoon like he said he'd be-- I hadn't much banked on it anyway, since he's visiting and of course would be more about be-bopping around with friends than waiting for me to tell him my genitals were available for his delectation. So after a late lunch and a ridiculously delicious scone at a coffee shop across the neighborhood, when Ultra Meat actually woofed me on Scruff, I impulsively asked, "wanna suck me?" and he said "yes" and I said "meet me at my place in 15 minutes," and I hiked over in the sudden sultry heat to get off. Because it's better to get off than to not get off, right? And there were two unexpected perks this time.

Too Much and Not Enough

My latest ejaculate just walked out the door deep inside the flawless body of a 23 year old jet-black Dominican kid-- absolutely flawless. Broad shoulders, thick arms and legs, tiny muscular waist, ass like a pair of grammar school globes, fat dick, big balls. This was quite a trophy for a middle-aged schlub like me-- and he had hit ME up on the normally useless app Jack'd, where my picture quite unashamedly shows my hairy but not very toned midsection (maybe that's why it's useless). But the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. As an insatiable lover of intense, transportive sex, I can *only* mark this down into the trophy column, something which definitely strokes my ego, I guess, but which I am not really very interested in. It was very much like spooging in a Sphinx. A red-hot, fucking stacked, sex-on-wheels Sphinx.

Today's orgasm was slow-built over the course of a hot, sweaty hour in a small bedroom in Greenpoint, with the window open and a light breeze blowing through the trees outside-- built up inside the wet mouth, against the lean body and huge thick tool of a small, slightly older dude-- built up even more intensely when said dude offered me his bare hole to receive my throbbing, stone-solid prick a few times. Just a few strokes each, half against his will, half with all the desire in the world. He had invited me up to service my meat and drink my cum. It had been a stressful day and I just wanted pleasure-- as much pleasure as I could stand, just to enjoy someone's body, to enjoy my own body, to feel sex in every cell of my flesh, every joint in my skeleton, every nerve everywhere: no cares, just sex, pleasure, sex. I went up there with my meat already swollen in my pants with the knowledge that I could have it, that all he wanted to do was suck my dick and make me cum and drink whatever I produced in my climax. How exciting to have this on offer, someone waiting to get me off. We kissed and his lips felt ample and open. And when I found the way to work his nipples just right, I knew he would give me everything, and sure enough, he did give me that taboo entry to his body, at least for a while. Just lying against him, limbs twined around each other, dick to dick, mouth to mouth, feeling that intense closeness, was a kind of heaven, and I just drank it in, sometimes stopping just to feel the closeness, hold his body, hold his ass in my hands with his legs wrapped around my waist and our groins pressed together tight. "You're very good," he said as I moved agains him, and worked my dick into his hole, and I realized then how quiet he had been. I am good. Sex is good."You have to fuck me for real sometime," he said, and I took that to mean he wasn't ready today. So I just enjoyed what I had.  I felt incredibly free with him, and he clearly did with me. But then he said something to me that I think I have never heard when on top of another guy.

Bounty

I've said it before but I must say it again, over and over again: it's so good to be a top. My looks are nothing to write home about but somehow there is a seemingly endless array of incredibly beautiful men out there willing to meet me, kiss me, suck my dick, make me cum, and swallow everything I produce, no matter how punishing the volume or saltiness. It's amazing to me. I grew up an extremely self-conscious nerd, rather funny looking, painfully uptight and shy and depressed, thinking life was somehow for other people, expecting nothing, a gay male Janice Ian song. Fast forward thirty years, when you'd think I'm past my prime with my graying chest hair and wrinkled smile, and handsome men are endlessly eager to do nothing but make me feel good. What a world! Today's load-sucker was a heart-meltingly handsome Italian guy, 32 years old, dark hair and beard, big noble nose, fine dark eyebrows and glittering deep brown eyes, and an insanely hot meaty muscled body, covered front and back with straight black hairs forming elegant patterns. Sort of a cross between Joey Fatone and the big hunky Kitchen Cousin dude that's always driving the bulldozer. And unlike most beautiful men, he gave incredible head that had me wanting to cum instantly. We were not together long, maybe 25 minutes tops, but I spent almost that entire time fighting off the urge to blow my wad and blow it hard. Which only meant that when I finally gave in-- far sooner than I wanted to, I wish I could have spent the whole day with him-- the ejaculate was huge and forceful and seemingly never-ending. Wow.

Compulsion

My latest ejaculation, released about 30 minutes ago in Fort Greene, left the totality of my past two days' semen production deposited deep in the body of a little 29-year-old latino slip of a thing, small and thin enough for me to snap in two like a pretzel stick. He was, however, laughably unlike his photos, which showed a trim but finely muscled body, along with a partner who was also small in stature but much thicker. I rarely am interested in groups but they both looked fantastic to fuck, and I instantly fantasized about having them both on all fours in front of me, going back and forth between them with tongue and prick, or eating one ass while being blown by the other. He said he was alone today, though, which made the decision easier. He was honestly much more articulate than guys who look like his pictures are-- it has to be said, the hotter the guy the stupider and more frustrating he is to communicate with, usually-- which should have been a tip off. But it is a beautiful summery day, bright and breezy, and the pictures and his easy availability instantly filled my blood with the desire to rut and spread my seed. I have work to do, and errands too, but sex…. sex is the thing I can never argue with. I never get tired of it, despite the endless sameness of much of the mechanics. Am I compulsive? And is that a good thing, or a bad thing, to be filled with desire so easily? Those thoughts were bubbling underground as I got my car keys, brushed my teeth, and rode over.