web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Lisbon is for Cocksuckers!

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Lisbon is for Cocksuckers!

Geesh. This could get a little dull! Another super handsome, hunky cocksucker came to my hotel room and worked over my unit for about 40 minutes until I was just outta my mind with pleasure and amazement and really incoherent thought and basically had no choice but to squirt all that delight out through my pisshole, and he drank it all down, hooting like a monkey when he felt the volume and the endless pulsing, sucking me too hard now really at that ultra-sensitive time, practically hopping around the bed-- as much as someone tethered to a stationary tubesteak can hop around-- and didn't let go of my poor spent dong until he had sucked and licked every last vestige of my manly flavor off it… only taking breaks to drool copiously all over me from salivary glands that had completely lost control from being blasted with the fluid he's clearly most addicted to. Did I mention that he was super handsome and beautifully hunky? With a beard? And that he sucked the holy living hell out of my dick? I definitely did not expect to be so popular here, or to encounter so many gorgeous available guys. Geesh again!

This guy is one of the dudes who jumped on me as soon as I arrived. And he kept after me just about every day as I made plans with other guys or got too involved in work to hook up. And honestly maybe I'm only so popular because the city is actually quite small for a world capital, and all these beautiful men have already sucked and fucked each other to death. Today's beautiful cocksucker listed his height as 5'10 but he was definitely taller than me, maybe even as tall as 6'1, and even in clothes, his body was much sexier than in the pictures, which revealed everything and made him look like nothing special. But in my hotel room, the way he moved, and filled out his clothes, the thickness of his wrists and strength of his hands and curve of his ass in his pants, the cords in his neck and the flare of his fleshy ears, and the perfectly drawn hairline coming to a point at his temples, made me feel like I was going to melt into the floor. Some guys just ooze masculine appeal, and he did in spades. He had very short salt and pepper hair, was a little evasive with his gaze, and typically I wondered if he wasn't that into me. His english was really not very good spoken. Writing he sounded just fine, but maybe what I was picking up on was a discomfort with having to talk at all. But it was a complete monsoon outside-- walking home from work at my colleague's house, I had to cross a massive traffic circle situated on a hill that essentially functioned to funnel the dirty brown effluvia from the high hills in the direction of every radiating street. People were crouching near the edge of the sidewalk afraid to cross, lurching backward when busses passed, bringing great waves of brown-gray water, waiting for it to somehow abate despite the huge quantities that just kept gushing and gushing down the hill at us. (Foreshadowing of how I erupted down this dude's throat, eh?) I had ended up just wading into the river of funk, probably completely ruining my shoes, and soaking myself completely by the time I got to the hotel. I wasn't sure how far away he came from-- he accidentally went to a similarly-named hotel about two blocks away first; I hope he didn't just barge into the room there-- but he was pretty wet himself, and I simply had to apologize for not warning him about the other hotel, and thank him for braving the raging river in the street to come pleasure my genitals. But he had a hard time finding words and was clearly very shy speaking. The wet clothes didn't help any; he wanted to just take them all off quickly which is understandable but when your clothes are that wet they stick to you and you pull and pull and I was just standing there gawping and his incredible manly form, waiting to see it in all its glory.

So I quit talking and stripped myself, feeling rather like a 13 year old in a locker room. His thighs were massive, his knees had a solidity that a greek statue's would have. Those HANDS. God, I get tingles just writing this, picturing his body. And his face was very serious, very "adult" somehow, with his close-cropped hair and tight salt and pepper beard. Just stunning.

I offered him a towel to dry off with but he didn't seem to understand, and then waved it away, and so I just hopped back on the bed with open legs, and then there he was, lying sideways down there, showing off the curve of a muscular hip, bulging thigh, flat waist, and hugely swelling lats. He was not a bodybuilder or anything-- in fact his musculature was quite soft and his pecs were a little on the way to being rather over fleshed, with rounded nipples-- but that just made his beauty all the more rough and real. He held my still-soft dick in one of those authoritative hands and sucked away at me, rather hard and fast for my taste, but with a definite skilled tongue. I honestly don't think he completely understood the verbiage of my pleas to slow down some, but eventually he did, and the tempo was perfect to prompt my shaft to fill with blood. Which created a cycle. The longer and thicker and harder I got, the slower his strokes became, the more he savored what I had to give him. It was on.

He didn't seem to be much for kissing, which was a huge shame, because, FUCK. So handsome. Fuck. Until I found the nips.

Again, the nips. Gateway to whatever I want.

Looking back at his profile, I realize he advertised himself as nip-controlled in one of his first emails, but I'd forgotten that. Once I worked his nips just so, he was moaning almost heartbreakingly nakedly, like a lost bear cub. And once I did my thing with my teeth and lips and tongue, alternating touches and tugs and bites and strokes and flutters, he began whispering, "FUCK you, FUCK you, FUCK you." A lot of guys here have a rather tenuous grasp on English porny talk; I have officially been called "horny" by about nine guys at this point, as in, "Hey guy, you are very handsome, and I might add very horny." I guess that means I make them horny? Maybe they mean "humpy"? "Hunky"? Who knows what the fuck they mean. But ok, in Lisbon, the guys all find me appealingly horny. And at least one dude enjoys how I treat his body so much that he praised me with repeated "fuck you"'s. Maybe he meant "you fucker"? "Fuck yeah"? "That is delightful, sir, where did you learn that technique?" Again, the Portuguese linguistic mind is inscrutable to the American.

But I liked how he was so open showing me how hot he was, and I also like how he wiggled his meaty, beautiful, deep-clefted ass onto my dickhead and basically let me push it against his asshole over and over, alllllllmost penetrating it each time, as I worked over one nip and then the other. I flipped him and ate him out-- it was like eating out the Laoco├Ân statue back there-- probing his hole with my tongue while reaching under his massive, beautifully-framed body to tug hard on his left nip as I ate, and then I stood up, unabashedly pushed my dick against his opening, and went knock knock knocking on heaven's door a good bit, completely working the fleshy head into his mind-bendingly hot brown body over and over-- not deep enough to freak him out, but enough to say, this is my raw dick, and it's in you, and I am so in control of your nips that you like it. And he liked it. His head was buried in the bed, his massive shoulders slack with submission, and I thrilled at how warm and slick he was inside.

But even another centimeter in him and I would pop. And I didn't want to pop. So I got off, walked around the side of the bed, fucked his face, while his body curled slightly fetal, a very touching sight. This big athletic manly dude, practically reduced to a child when there was a fat dick to suck. Just beautiful.

And he was kissing me passionately now, too, when I moved in for it. Holding my body to him when I mounted his body and ground my dick into his. And we sucked each other off and kissed and touched each other and I just kept thinking GOD how does this happen to me.

He followed directions superbly when it was time to come, not trying too hard, slowing way down, keeping me on the edge for at least a minute to make my nuts pump out as much surplus, last-minute cum as possible, and then he felt me tense up and thicken and harden and erupt and… well, the whimpering, the hooting, the sucking, the swallowing. He was so, so happy. He was like a different person.

And then, once he had his fill, he got up on his knees, showed me his whole body, held his own dick, looked me up and down, then let go of his own dick and held mine again, and said, "Wow." I was very proud of my dick just then.

And then it was over, he was shy and reserved and uncomfortable again. He asked if he could take a shower, and I let him, going in there once or twice under various pretexts to just watch him soap up his beautiful manly body with his huge meaty hands. He dried off silently, pulled on the wet clothes again, and they didn't go on any quicker, so his discomfort was almost agonizing. It's a hotel room, so it's not like I have anywhere to go. And I just couldn't stop watching the way he moved. Gosh, that kind of beauty just breaks my heart. It makes the spirit overflow, it embarrasses the dignity, it makes you long for you don't even know what. Can anyone ever really possess a being with that kind of beauty? Can anyone ever be desired by that, for real? Can you ever get more than an hour near a flame with that kind of heat, could you ever get sick of it? It is like he is a different species from me, and all I could do was stare. And then he was off, not looking back, not reacting when I swatted his ass as he went by, going out into the world to be admired by other strangers.

My colleague keeps insisting I would love living here, it's cheaper than other European cities my partner and I think we'd like to live in, and just as beautiful and interesting. It's really a total backwater, far far too quiet and sparse for me; honestly in many ways it feels worse than DC was. But God, if I could get these guys to keep sucking my dick…. God.

Let's see if in the remaining few days I can't find a sweet little ass to inseminate. Lisbon is clearly the promised land for eager to please cocksuckers with beautiful genes. But after all these appetizers, I'm hungry for raw meat!

2 comments:

  1. So why didn't you go in for the kill and still your dick in his hole?

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    Replies
    1. Well, Anonymous… cuz he eventually pushed it away! There are limits to even what good nip work can do, I guess, if a guy really doesn't want raw dick in him. I was so happy to even be within fifteen feet of this creature that I didn't mind. But just before he made his feelings plain, I had him on his back… his head was in a vortex of pleasure… his legs hitched tight around my hips… his dick hard enough to cut diamonds… and I aimed my missile at his silo, holding it in my fist like a hammer for fucking, ready to insert it all the way… and then he came to his senses, I guess. So close! So fucking hot! But no dice.

      Maybe I'll get to plow and seed an ass tonight. For now I'm gonna do some sightseeing… it's been an intense week of work and little sleep.

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