web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Our Stupid, Stupid World

Thursday, January 8, 2015

Our Stupid, Stupid World

My boss says I am cursed. I do feel like I have fantastically bad luck sometimes. (Other times I feel quite lucky indeed.) Things gang up on me-- I don't just have an unlikely bad thing happen, I have five of them pile up on me in one day, or three things go wrong and urgently need my attention at the same time, or I break my wrist in the same week my most important colleague quits AND get my credit card canceled too. Well, today the fates were in true form. I woke up to a bunch of emergencies that I wasn't quite sure how to handle, but I did start getting them under control. I always log in to Manhunt and Adam4Adam and other sites and stuff in the morning just as part of my waking-up routine, so I had been on there a while. In a lull, when things looked like they were calming down for work, I checked out Manhunt, and saw that a strapping, brutishly handsome, muscular, big-cocked German guy had emailed me almost an hour earlier, saying I sounded perfect and that he wanted to service me (despite listing himself a top!) and including his phone number as well, all in one message. His profile said he was extremely tactile, which, BINGO. I felt it was too late-- most guys won't stick around for an hour-- and was worried work would flare up again, and also knew that I didn't have the place to myself for long today; my partner was only working in the morning and would probably be home around 1:30. It was still not even 11:30, but honestly I wasn't even horny. But I don't get studly hung touch-junkies begging to suck my dick every day, so I texted him a hello. Amazingly, he instantly texted back, saying he wanted my dick NOW. We negotiated the terms a bit-- he was down in TriBeCa, which isn't too crazy far, but it would take him at least a half hour to get here, so I tried to push him into meeting up later in the afternoon when there would be no time limit. He said it would be better to meet up now. I like now! So I gave him the address and he said he would be here by noon. I felt like I was about to get seriously lucky, but this is my life, and our stupid, stupid world. So instead I was a sitting duck, waiting to be hit with a big sack of what-the-fuck.

I asked him to text me when he was off the train just in case he was delayed and getting too close to my husband getting home-- I didn't want a possible repeat of the other day or even more embarrassing events. He said OK and I went back to work, expecting to be treated to something very fine at noon. At a quarter to 12, I got a message from him saying "On the train." Did he mean he was OFF the train? I texted back and heard nothing. And nothing. And nothing. At 12:15 he clarified: "On the L train." Ugh, I thought, he just transferred?? It would take him another 10 minutes to get here. Work had given me a headache, and waiting around for someone to come let me put my dick in him is the most excruciating way to pass time imaginable, so I was getting into a state. By 12:30 my head was pounding and I was full of despair. We'd barely have half an hour together! Me and this big handsome hunk! I became convinced he wasn't even using real pix. But there were tons of them, and nothing else he did set off any red flags. I just waited.

At 12:30 he said he didn't see how to buzz me. This happens-- a business a couple blocks away has a side entrance on my street with the same street number, but it's not our building-- it just happens to have the same number of the other street. It the building you'd see if you went the wrong way from the subway… not too far from me, but once I made him realize how to get to my place, we had wasted another five or ten minutes. He got to my place at 12:40.

And he was a motherfucking stud.

Much taller than I had expected but fuck, what a body. He was heavily bundled up with big boots and a thousand layers, which he proceeded to peel off in my foyer as I gaped at him and counted seconds. It took him like a full two minutes just to get out of all that stuff and peel of his long johns. It was an awesome show, but all I could think about was how little time we had. "I spent a lot of time waiting for the connection," he said in his German voice.

We went back to the bedroom as I cautioned that we didn't have a lot of time together, which he should have know anyway-- I'd always said we had to be done at 1. He didn't know how to kiss at all-- he just stuck his tongue out, and it was freezing from crossing the frozen tundra outside-- but I put my hands all over his amazing body, full of delightful curves and bulges and hairs and smooth skin, and just kept going, "holy fuck… holy fuck." He enjoyed my touches and touched me too. But I just wanted him bent over with his massive, hard, muscular, curvaceous, bountiful ass in my face. I could have done even without the blowjob at this point. I just wanted to eat him out for 20 minutes and send him away. I would have been happy with just that.

He obeyed my desire and bent over the bed. He was wearing bright orange boxer briefs and a very tight undershirt and he looked like sex on a stick and I just rubbed my face all over his underpants and went wow wow wow wow.

And my phone buzzed. I apologized to Adonis to check it, feeling jumpy. It was my partner, saying work was very slow today and he didn't have much to do. And that he would leave in fifteen minutes or so. A half hour early.

Fuck me. He works in the neighborhood, maybe a 10 minute block away tops. There was a little time before I had to send the guy away. But this was just too much.

I went back to the stud, and against all better judgment, pulled down the tangerine briefs to reveal the most lovely, liiiiiightly hairy, massively shapely butt I have seen in years. I just wanted it. At this point I didn't care if my work melted down, if my partner spent the whole time crying in the doorway, if my head exploded from the headache. I just wanted to eat this ass, for as long as I wanted to, with my eyes closed and my dick drooling and not a care in the world.

I kept pulling the briefs down. He wiggled for me, those bulging thighs writhing with meat under the taut skin. Beautiful! Beautiful! I pulled open his cheeks to allow access of my tongue…

And, well, his asshole was white. Like, Jeff Spicoli on the Beach, Zinka Sunscreen white. WTF!

Reflexively I kinda touched it with my thumb, thinking it might be some smeary ointment. But it was dry. What was this stuff!

My phone buzzed again.

I wanted to cry.

Something decisive inside me uncoiled at that moment and said, just get your fucking dick sucked already. So I pulled back up his briefs, checked the phone again-- just another note from my partner, told him, "We have like fifteen minutes, I'm sorry, let's just get this dick sucked." He seemed completely unfazed, and when I lay back with my thighs parted to let him get to work, he got to work.

GOD. GOD. GOD. So beautiful. Just sucked me down-- I was completely limp from stress and frustration, but he sucked me all the way and slowly worked me with his tongue, seeming happy as a clam, despite being this perfect specimen of manly manhood and my being a perfect specimen of your schlubby dad. He sucked and sucked and I just stared at his hard, bulging tricep, and those shoulders-- a roller coaster of bone and sinew and muscle and flesh that I wanted to be running my tongue all over-- and I could barely look at the muscular back and the big ass in the tangerine shorts, it was too much, like looking in the sun. He sucked and sucked and I could only think I want to cry, I want to cry, why why why, I want more, ten minutes is worth than nothing.

And then, I fucking popped.

Popped right in his mouth, going "NO NO NO NO NO" like a nut job.

On his part, well, he just went "MmmmmMMMMMMM! MFF! MMMMmmmmmmmmmm…" and felt me pulse into his mouth a bit, then pulled me out, held my wobbly chubby half-boner in his hand, which I proceeded to slime completely with the end of my climax, and said in admiring tones, "Wow! Oh wow! Wow!"

He had literally sucked me for I think 90 seconds.

"This is not a good day," I said, still ejaculating feebly into his hand. "What a fucking stressful day." He jacked my rubbery dick, admiring the huge puddle of goo.

Then he went to the bathroom to clean up a bit while I kicked myself over and over, and cursed God and my partner's insanely erratic schedule and the slow train and people with no sense of time and my job and the whole whole world.

As he washed up-- very very scrupulously, given how little we did-- I stood in the doorway, talking inanely, occasionally feeling him up, which he seemed OK with but mostly ignored. I don't know if he was mad or not-- I would have been, but then again, he showed up almost an hour later than he said he would. I can only assume he spent the forty minutes before getting on the train slathering that mysterious white substance all over his beautiful perfect bunghole.

And then he had to get dressed again. This was the lengthiest part of our visit. The long johns. The bulky pants. The shirt, the sweater, the jacket, the coat. Then lacing up the boots, so many laces, so many. Then the hat, then the dorky book bag. Ugh. He cheerfully leaned over to kiss me before he left, which actually was nice. He had said he was just visiting from Germany, but gets to NYC a few times a year. I told him if he ever came back I would like another chance, but I know how these things go. I'll never see this amazing creature again. It was like being handed a million dollar bills and then watching them all blow into a sewer. I got to hold a million dollars for about six minutes.

So I lay in bed a bit, trying to calm down, still cursing the whole universe. I felt bad for being annoyed with my partner: It's his house too, and I should have known better even setting something up for noon. Figuring having a nice lunch with him would help me get over my extremely black mood, I wrote him asking if he wanted to meet me somewhere. It was about 5 minutes before he said he'd be leaving. I was suddenly very very hungry, and my headache was worse than ever.

He didn't reply.

I suggested a restaurant and told him I was really hungry.

He didn't reply.

I went to get dressed so I could just leave and maybe meet him-- the place I was thinking of was closer to his office than our apartment. I went back to the phone once I was bundled up to see what he said.

He hadn't replied.

It was now 1:10. I hung around till 1:15, imagining having spent all this time with a MASSIVE FREAKING COCKHUNGRY STUD IN MY LAP instead of waiting for a text.

I told my partner I was leaving and maybe he could just meet me there. It was a good long walk away for me.

On the way, at 1:30, I checked my phone. No reply. In a parallel universe, the strapping German had a non-zinc-white asshole and my tongue was buried in it, or better, my bare cock, filling him and me with complete delight.

Then, as I was putting the phone back in my pocket, it buzzes. "Did you already eat? I'm leaving now!"


I told him I was almost there. I got a table, got menus, sat waiting for him to come before I ordered.

No reply, 1:45.

I ordered.

And then he showed. "I got pulled into something at the last minute," he said, dropping his bag on the table. I love him more than anything, but fuck I hate his job. I could have spent a whole hour with that dude. I spent 6 minutes.

We chatted about nothing, and it was nice, and the food was great, but my head would not stop pounding. He wanted to go home and take care of a few things before meeting a friend in a couple of hours. I decided to go to a coffee shop and drank a pot of rooibos slowly, mindlessly surveilled by a dozen glowing screens from laptops arrayed around me at every angle. I read a book about snobbery in modern literature and at the end of every page thought about the big stud and his beautiful ass and meaty dick that I only just put in my mouth for a short few seconds, before he pulled on his long johns, probably frustrating the guy even more. And then I walked home.

There were like five work emails asking for immediate attention. On BBRTs, two equally beautiful dudes had said they wanted me to cum in their ass an hour and a half earlier and were now gone. My partner had done all the dishes. I sat at my desk at the computer, sank into work.


  1. I just had a close call where a 21 year old kid home from college for the holidays came over right when my partner said he's coming home with lunch in tow. But he actually did come home 15 mins later. The kid had such a nice ass... And a bit of scruff that made me want to chew on it for awhile. Kicking a guy out mid play always sucks... Even when it wasn't a premature move!

    1. It's worse when the guy was 45 minutes late after insisting on coming over "now" and I kicked him out for nothing because my partner was also 45 minutes late after saying he was coming home "now". Add in the embarrassing premature ejaculation and it's just HORRIBLE PITY ME.

  2. Hot story even though it was aborted. What was with the white asshole that was dry to the touch? do you think he was bleaching it? Don't know why you couldn't reschedule another round. It would be hot to have a couple hours with this dude, could be worth the cost of a cheap hotel.

    1. It looked like some kind of medicine maybe, honestly. He did know I wanted to eat him out so I really wonder what he would have put on there before he came over. Who knows! He was leaving town the next day I think, and really I doubt he would trek back out here even if he was still around. I'm not the only guy who rarely wants a rematch, even with guys I'm really into… it's kind of the default, really.

      Glad you liked the story, Anonymous!