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.

I often shy away from guys who want "aggressive" or "rough" or "dominant" or whatever. Often these are signs the bottom is demanding and annoying to fuck. But also I just don't feel I am those things, despite being told that I am these things over and over. But I guess after skull-fucking this lunk-- putting all my weight on one arm, extended straight down with palm splayed right across his face, pushing his face into the bed while I rammed my fuckstick into his gaping maw barking "don't stop sucking it"-- and then flipping him on his back; forcing his very tight hole open rather unceremoniously with my slightly lubed-up bone, making him grimace in what looked like a genuine, rather concerning way; and then at his command seriously grabbing and squeezing his windpipe while I pummeled his body with my hips, not letting up even to ejaculate-- I guess I can honestly say I can live up to this kind of bottom's needs.

"You're aggressive," he said in that how-could-you-have-thought-otherwise sort of way, when I was done. He was lying on his back jerking his big fat dick rather intensely, his huge rubbery nips hard and extended with excitement, those big sexy bestial limbs splayed on the bed for my delectation. He stared into my face awfully hungrily for someone who an hour before was saying "a faceless top is my ultimate fantasy" and begging me to put on a leather balaclava. But that would totally have prevented me from stroking my face in that fucking Valhalla of a caboose. Just so, so, SO beautiful, so good to eat. And maybe he liked my sexy-mean face. I ate him some more after I loaded him up, while he beat that fat fat dick, and he moaned and moaned and my mouth got saltier and fishier with the slight seepings of my own ejaculate. (I have no idea how guys swallow this stuff; I gotta say I have some awfully potent-tasting spunk for a non-smoker. I had to stop at the 24 hour grocery on the way home and kill the taste with a big gooey piece of chocolate cake.)

I waved his aggressive comment away, saying, "I never know what dudes mean by that." But he clearly was happy with my performance, muttering to himself, "the way you just fucked my skull like that…" and his dick got visibly harder in his fist. I half wanted to push his hand away and suck him off. His face was rather brutish and dumb-looking: round skull, short brow, big nose, thick lips, heavy, weirdly bristly near-unibrow, dark caveman stubble. His arms were hard, bursting with muscle, tattooed. He was a seriously hot slab of fuckmeat. "You can stay, go, whatever, man, you're hot!" he said as I took in his animalistic beauty. So I sucked his fat nip and stuck my finger in his gooey hole and choked him some more with the other hand, and he shook and vibrated on the bed, moaning like he was about to die. Clearly there is something deep inside this guy that responds to these things. Most bottoms with all these rules and needs don't even give you any payoff for following them; just got "hot" like Paris Hilton and leave you wondering what the fuck just happened. But this guy was clearly into it, and that (plus his fucking neanderthal hotness) made it all worth it, I guess.

I finally said I had to go home, and he hopped off the bed saying, "Sure thing!", perhaps happy that I didn't try to make him cum so he could go find another top to cum in him tonight. We chatted amiably while I washed the thin veneer of my own cum off my face, which I had smeared myself with just enjoying contact with his ass while he beat his meat. He expressed dismay that I don't live here, and we talked a bit about what miserable cockteases southern men are (this guy is a transplant from Ohio). We bonded a bit over how much sex we like to have and what straightforward, upstanding libertine dogs we are. His body did not stop its siren song to me, and I kept having to slap and grip its brawn. Finally, facing him, I abruptly grabbed his chin in one hand and said, "OK, make your top happy, man," and leaned in for a kiss. He had just enough time to pucker up for Grandma before I sucked his lips into my mouth. Better than nothing. "You fucker!" he said, and laughed, like I had gotten the better of him. The kiss was more of a violation than being nearly asphyxiated and thoroughly inseminated by a stranger was, somehow. "See ya later!" I said, swaggering away, wishing I'd forced my tongue in his mouth but happy with having spread my seed to another warm body. "Bye, sexy dad!" he called after me. And I went downstairs and was gone.

But you know me. All that bluster isn't my style. May my next fuck me a long deep velvety one; may my next bottom melt into me and make me feel my topness in long stretches of pleasure we can barely endure.