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.

When I got to his place, he had some moody, atmospheric prog-rock sounding music blaring on the kind of excellent, top of the line sound system that makes you feel the song in your coccyx and solar plexus, and was fighting a big dog back at the door. The dog, like all dogs and most bottoms, was irresistibly drawn to my groin, instantly planting her nose in it and following me around the living room, then into the bathroom where I had to take a quick leak. I called out to the cocksucker, "Is this Japan playing, or Brian Ferry, or what?" I shook off my dick, buttoned up, and went out; the place was quite dark with candles burning here and there, and the air was full of incense. (Such a freaky scene --Rick James.) He was already naked and going into the bedroom. I followed, and he was on the bed; when I approached, he said, "It's David Sylvian." I pointed out that he was the lead singer in Japan. "Really?" he asked, skeptically. And then he grinned in the dark. "I think you are the first person to even know who he even is or recognize this music." I guess this is his usual fuck-music. I admit it was a rather nice choice. He had a giant king-sized bed with a bunch of buddha heads around. I pulled off my clothes, got into the bed, directed him between my legs, and he gave me a mighty fine blowjob, taking me from completely limp to throbbing hard.

His hair was quite stringy, though; imagine getting blown by Van Halen-era Sammy Hagar (in fact he looked like a more handsome Sammy Hagar, now that I think about it). And while his body was probably no worse than mine, its doughiness and complete hairlessness was not all that appealing. But he had a monster schlong-- just a big fat beauty with a mouthwateringly fat dickhead crowning it. After a brief visit to his unexpectedly sensitive nips ("DO IT HARDER" he barked, so I DID IT HARDER) I went to town on his dick. He liked it. I do suck a nice dick when inspired. It was too long to get into my throat and about as fat as I can comfortably fit in my mouth-- just beautifully beautifully fat. We moved into a 69 position and I fucked my own dick into his head while taking splendid delight in this extremely hot big manly dick of his. God, what a nice fat dick. I wish I had one like that. Mine seemed rather puny in comparison. Well on the way to 8 inches and did I mention BEAUTIFULLY FAT?

Anyway then I got him back between my legs, and watched his Sammy Hagar face work me up to orgasm, and I yelped as I was about to pop--

--and basically he gagged and my thin, jet-spraying cum began shooting out of his mouth; he let go of me and I was jizzing everywhere, and had to jerk myself through my orgasm. He was coughing but jerking himself pretty hard too; he managed to mumble "Sorry" before focusing completely on fisting that fantastic dong of his. My gooey dick was dangling in his face and he kept inching towards it hesitantly but irresistibly. I realized he just wasn't a swallower, and was actually a little afraid of my cum. But then perhaps realizing that heavenly taste on his tongue was already the first jet of my splooge, he gently sucked my dickhead into his mouth, and rolled it around on his tongue while I pinched his nipples, hard, and then he sprayed all over himself, too, sucking helplessly on my dick and savoring the taste of my climax.

We laughed a bit and I told him he did a good job, and we cleaned up, talking about music all the while. He kept mentioning his kids, who were in their 20s. I thought about his big fat dick making babies, and then putting it in my mouth, and him sucking my dick, and me cumming in his mouth. I wondered if his kids knew he was gay. He was an extremely straight-seeming "oral sub." He had had a bunch of colorful jobs and, as my suspicions had suggested, had a rather wild life in his 20s as a drummer. I enjoyed talking to him about music; he said his tastes were "very diverse" which is usually a horrible warning sigh that someone has miserable, parochial taste, but then he was talking about Robert Fripp and then some dude from the Allman Brothers. And I was like OK you are allowed to say that. But his perspective on things was less studied and precious than you might get talking about this stuff with a hipster in Brooklyn or Chapel Hill or even DC. I was rather intrigued by this guy, and let him go on and on talking about all the jobs he's had and about rescue dogs and scuba diving. David Sylvian began warbling like an opera 45 played on 33. I started feeling my too-much-socializing hangover from the past week kick in again. I wanted to hang out and I wanted to leave, too. I decided it was late, and I am completely compulsive, stopping 500 feet from my sister's house to pull into an empty corporate parking lot to check for messages on adam4adam from men who would potentially evacuate the semen from my testicles and then sucking this big fat dad dick with its acrid precum. I bid him farewell and left.

The drive back was pretty quick-- his 70s colonial house (did his kids grow up in that?) was not far from where my sister lives. All the windows in the car were open and the air was thick and heady with the memory-jarring scent of wet grass and honeysuckle steeping through the humid air. The back roads of my stupid, sprawling home town were pitch black and winding. I was feeling pretty wistful and sated.

I got home and plugged in my phone to the charger, and adam4adam popped up where I left it. The guy had left a final message on a4a saying, "I prefer a facial" right before he texted me at my request. Oops! Poor guy. I just let my orgasm rip without warning in the poor dude.

I really think I need to give my dick a rest tomorrow!