…Or Not

Something told me the best way to get my dick sucked would be to post a self-pitying explanation of why I would not be having any sex any time soon! Guess who came to the rescue this evening, when my partner went out for a few hours to dispel his cabin fever?

Ultra Meat, of course.

He really is a trooper. I think I've officially ejaculated in his presence more often than anyone except my two serious relationships now. He never gets tired of working my unit. Last time I really felt the energy between us was waning; I never sustain interest this long in someone I'm not emotionally invested in. But he's always coming back for more and is so fantastically built that I can't resist putting my dick in him when he asks and asks and asks.

Tonight he gave me one of those silly shout-outs on Mister. So-and-so thinks you're burning hot! I told him my wrist was broken and in a cast. "Cock still work?" he asked. I told him I hadn't tried since the accident. "Let me come check it out," he said. After a week of seminal continence I was pretty horny. But my partner was moping around the house, unsure of what to do with himself. By the time he decided to go out, and I wrote Ulta Meat telling him to come get me off, the latter had left to go to class in Manhattan. Propped up on my mouton of pillows, my right wrist lying just so, I cruised around on my phone on apps and hookup sites a while looking for a suitable replacement. Everyone who was interested wanted me to fuck them too, which I'm obviously unable to do. Finally, right when my partner texted me that he'd be coming home from a shopping trip out on Long Island, Ultra Meat pops up saying he's done in Tribeca. Geesh. It was possible but would be cutting it close. But I told him to text me when he was in the hood. My partner dawdled a bit before he set out for home. So when Ultra Meat arrived, I told him there wasn't much time but to "just come kiss it a little." I didn't think I had it in me to get hard and pump out spooge with a broken wrist and a husband coming home any minute.

But Ultra Meat got here and I got in bed and pulled off my shorts and opened my legs and he dove for the goods, sucking me hard with unprecedented skill. "Oh baby," I crooned helplessly as my wang ballooned between his lips, "thank you for sucking my dick. You love my dick," I said promptingly, and he looked up at me and nodded and said "Mph!" and kept sucking me.  I wrapped my feet around his hips and bucked into him hungrily, and my voice dropped three octaves from its previous whimper, and I began chanting, "I wanna fuck you, I wanna fuck my cum into you, I wish I was shooting my load in your body," and he sucked till I was very close. He had told me his own partner was waiting for him and he couldn't go home smelling like dick. So when I was about to spew I said, "you don't want me to cum in your mouth, do you?" and he shook his head. I made him keep me on the edge there for a bit savoring the pleasure of my dick fully tense, cocked to the limit and ready to blow, then pulled him off me and watched as ribbons of my sex slime jetted in the air, landing on my shirt, on my face, in my pubes, then oozing slick cold and wet all over my left hand. I was a fucking mess and couldnt stop laughing. He straddled my leg and pulled out his own choad, begging me, "Where can I cum?" "You gotta cum on me," I said, not wanting gooey sheets. So he bucked closer to me and I pushed my thigh up into his ass and I felt hot rain landing on my leg and dick. And then I was really a mess. "Damn, I should have let you cum in my mouth after all," he said, surveying the damage. I agreed!

He asked how he could clean me up, but all there was was the pair of sweat shorts I wore yesterday on the floor beside the bed; my partner had done shitloads of laundry today, I think out of boredom. But I got clean. Ultra Meat made me inspect him for gobs of cum on his face and cock stink on his breath but he was fine; it had been barely ten minutes I think. And he was gone. My partner was delayed by traffic and wasn't home for another 45 minutes.

I suppose I will find ways to get off during this period. Even in the emergency room up in Saranac I was on Scruff, looking at all the mountain men I wished I was deep-dicking-- between bouts of pain from my sickeningly bent wrist, waiting endlessly for the doctor to come stretch it back to normalcy. The dick always wins! The dick always gets in!

Just a little slower for a while!