web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Again!

Friday, July 11, 2014


Well, so much for the wish at the end of my last post! I just vigorously fucked the thin, impatient, cranky cocksucker I see I had a very short time with last time as well, spending maybe 20 minutes at his place max. What's happening to me?

I can't decide if this kid is cute or not; he has something of an exotic look, "tawny eyes" like the alien-girl in the Flock of Seagulls song, a nice head of hair, dark skin, a big dick. He let me kiss him this time and actually kisses pretty nice, so it's a little weird he wouldn't do it the first time; he's clearly into it. We made out and he stroked my dick nicely and it got chubby and I pushed him to his knees and watching him stroke his really quite long, pretty dick as he worked on mine. He doesn't give all that great head; he curls his lips over his teeth, which is a very considerate thing to do I suppose, but ensures there will be nothing sensual about the blowjob he's going to give. A lot of guys seem to think that lips are an important part of oral pleasuring; when we was not deep-throating me, he was basically passing my dick back and forth over the retracted lips, barely giving any sensation. People, there are only three things involved in giving really good head:

1) Your tongue.
2) Licking the dick that you're sucking.

But I was getting hard from this, so that was nice. I wouldn't get hard enough to fuck this way, though, so I pulled him up, turned him around, and pushed him down onto the bed; he hopped up on all fours and prepared for whatever I was going to do, which in this case was eat his little ass. Unfortunately, just at this moment, that impossible-to-ignore Peter Bjorn and John song with all the whistling came on his stereo-- he was really pretty hipstery-- and the speaker was right by my left ear, with that euro dude singing about the young folks right into my head as I tried to get into probing this dude's insides with my tongue. He did seem to have a wonderfully flexible, accommodating hole that would be good for fucking, but that song, that whistling, that echoing drum! All I could do was focus on the song; my dick was thick and meaty in my hand but not getting ramrod straight like it needed to be. I considered asking him to turn the music down or off or something, but decided that would be awfully high-maintenance. Instead I flipped him on his back, and he got all greedy-lookin in the eyes and pulled his legs way back to let my dick in, but I pushed them down, climbed on top of him, and sucked his face while I ground my dick against his. He relaxed a bit, accepted my hungry kisses, and whimpered happily while my bulk repeatedly pumped him into his mattress. He wrapped his limbs around me but was an awfully grabby little guy-- he seems quite high-strung-- and kept trying to reach down for my dick, or maybe his own, or to grasp my ass while I pumped, moving his hands and legs to and fro. But I liked the whimpering-- he was happy. I was happy. My dick was lengthening. My dick was strengthening. I held the back of his head with one hand and an ass-cheek with the other, slipping my finger into his hole; it slid in with the greatest of ease and I knew this was going to feel good. "I want to feel your dick inside!" he said, a couple of times for emphasis. So I sat up, slicked up good with a lot of viscous spit, and slid right in.

No resistance, beautifully silky, in up to the hilt in one smooth stroke, and away we fucked.

I will say that fucking calmed him down noticeable. The flitting hands stopped, the panting stopped, and he stared fixedly into my face with an almost eerie intensity, as if his soul had left his body and he was now inhabited by an easily hypnotized but dangerous animal. I slid my bone in and out of him, admiring the conjunction of our flesh, with long deep strokes, and occasionally looked into his eyes as well-- his never left my face. Pretty intense. I felt like I could cum pretty quickly, so I kept up a slow rhythm, hoping to get into a groove so that I could pick up the tempo and really pummel his little body. I hiked his body up a little closer to mine, and he said "Give me your mouth" and we made out some more, and when I pulled away a slimy clear pool of precum had welled on his smooth belly under his big fat dick; I wiped it up and put it on his tongue and he said "It feels so good." I told him, "I just want to get into a groove here, I don't want to cum too fast, I'll get into a groove and then I can really fuck you." And he snapped out of his trance and said, "Well we don't have all day," and I barked with laughter, saying, "HOW ROMANTIC!" and he laughed too; I felt my dick bounce inside him as he chuckled and had one of those where-are-we-again moments you get when someone breaks the fourth wall during sex, as it were. "I mean, you know…" and I just smiled, and kept up the long deep slow fucking. His little body really felt very good underneath me and he resumed his intent staring. And then suddenly it wasn't so slow any more, and I thought, to hell with it, I just wanna cum, so I grabbed his hips, hunkered down a bit, and shifted into high gear, jackhammering into him with half-strokes designed to keep me in him very deep but get enough friction to get me off. He gripped my shoulders and I began to make some noise and he said "Are you going to cum? " and I said "Oh I'm fuckin spewing now," and I was, but I kept up the pummeling, and he let go of my shoulders and took up his own fuckstick and within seconds was spooging all over himself while I fucked myself over the hill of my orgasm and into the valley of warm post-orgasmic bliss. I didn't let up till all the goo had shot out of him, then pushed in deep, kissed him deep, and pulled out.

It was a very fast fuck, by my standards, anyway.

We flopped down on the bed and I was actually winded; I guess I had really fucked him pretty fast and hard. He had a sort of LA way about him, asking me what I'd been up to n stuff, so I told him about recent travels etc. He said he'd been in Provincetown for the past two weeks. I was surprised; it's a pricey place in the high season and this kid lives in rather a dump on unfashionable side of my admittedly expensive neighborhood. He sniffed that he "makes a lot of money" and I was left wondering how, but didn't ask. He said he was moving to the East Village where he has some property that he's been renting out for a lot of money. Well! Mr Moneybags! You still got FUCKED!

He cleaned up and we chatted a bit more-- he was pretty friendly despite the abstracted LA-gay attitude, and then he let me out and I went to the grocery on the corner and bought a box of Ronzoni. Thus ends today's quickie. I'm going to go boil it now and devour it. Sex makes me hungry.

I love sex. But this quickie stuff has to stop!

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