Revisits

Today I fucked the beautiful, built, meaty, hairy, remote-but-hot, stinky guy I mentioned here a month or so ago. I'm always looking for a new guy to fuck, but lately have actually felt like that's become something of a mania that I should curb a little bit. Men do have this fascination with numbers and goals and conquests, and while I don't feel like a typical man in most ways, I guess I am in that way. Unless I was out of my mind, stark-raving-mad horny, I would never choose to get together with a previous fuck again, unless it has been a long enough time since the last fuck that he re-codes as new in a sense-- I need time to miss someone before I want to fuck them again. (It *really* helps if I kinda totally forgot about the guy, embarrassingly enough.) But lately maybe I've been feeling like I should ratchet it down a bit.
I am actually rather sentimental-- I've always been the one among my friends who reaches out to reconnect if we haven't spoken in years. It has always seemed a little shameful to let a good friendship slip away and just be buried in the sands of time, as it were. I think very fondly of some of the guys I've fucked over the years, even if I can't remember their names, and even if I only hooked up with them once, but maybe had a really interesting conversation after. So my huge promiscuous streak is a little strange in the overall pattern of my personality. But it's undeniably a major trait.

Over the past couple of weeks I became increasingly curious about what happened to a regular cocksucker I had when I lived in Brooklyn Heights in 2010. He worked on Wall Street and answered a call for service I put out on Craigslist one day; for a year or so he would pop over at lunchtime or after work and drain me better than anyone else I ever met. He was very cute, maybe half-latin, 5'7 or 5'8, with a sweet, muscular little body. And when we had sex it was fucking mind-blowing; he made me feel so intensely good I literally felt like I was going out of my mind, like I couldn't stand it but couldn't stop and could barely think about anything besides pressing myself against him as hard as possible. We would talk a little bit afterwards, especially once when I went to his place, and he always wrote me as soon as he got back home to tell me how hot it was, how he couldn't stop thinking about my dick, etcetc. But after a while he would scamper away faster and faster after he swallowed me-- he'd still write those great little notes, but he wouldn't stick around and talk. I wondered if he was falling for me, and in the note after our last assignation, he confirmed that suspicion, saying he just couldn't do it any more because he knew I was not single and I was going to break his heart. This was very touching but also very sad. There have been other guys I've had fantastic sex with that pull their profiles from Manhunt or whatever, and when I call or text them they say they really need to focus on getting a boyfriend rather than hook up again. I'm an unusually affectionate and attentive fuck, I guess, even just for a blowjob. I think there is a lot of bad sex out there, and a lot of people starved for affection.

So I wondered more and more what happened to the amazing cocksucker, after about a year and a half of silence. I hoped he'd found someone and was happy, but was almost afraid to ask. Finally I just sent him a note saying I had been thinking about him lately and hoped he was well. He wrote back right away saying he had just been thinking about me too, oddly enough, and said more nice things about my penis and my ejaculate as usual, but then said he was in a relationship, living with the guy, and it was very serious, so he probably shouldn't even be replying, but that he wanted to just say hello. What was fine... this is what I wanted to hear, and I told him so. It really is nice to think that someone who was so selfless in pleasing me has gotten something good in his life.

So. I guess I'm in a less randy, unhinged mood lately. When Mr Hot But Remote hit me up on Manhunt this afternoon, we exchanged a couple of dirty emails, and he said he would take off work early and come by my place to drain my nuts. I was actually glad-- I figured he might be a little less funky on a work day, and not be wearing his cockring (they actually annoy me). I would get to see him in his clothes (he always meets me at the door naked)-- basically have the home court advantage. And I was right. He looks fantastic in his clothes, and was much more freshly-scented than the other times, and did not have the paraphernalia on his wang. He was just supposed to blow me this time, but when he was laying there between my legs with that fantastic, narrow-hipped, meaty round ass up in the air, I had to eat it. His apartment is tiny and hot and it's hard to maneuver in, but mine is cool and big, so I just fuckin feasted on his fuckin bounty exactly the way I wanted to while he moaned and turned his head to look back at me. His big fat dick was getting hard so I sucked that some between tongueing his hole, licking behind his balls, and biting his inner thigh. And I held it in my hand while I licked up and down his crack and felt it swell. I slicked up my dick with my spit and tried to slide in, but he was a little tight and dry. I kept slicking up and stroking my dickhead against his hole, slicking and stroking, slicking and stroking, till he could take it in him with a wince (I should have put on some lube but I just hate ruining the flow).

I love how my fat bone looks between the buttocks of a really muscular guy with narrow hips-- it always makes my dick look so big-- but I really wanted to fuck him face to face and look in his eyes, so I flipped him over and got it back in. And we fucked and fucked, takin breaks to suck and chew his nips; he rested his hands on my thighs above the knee while I deep-dicked him, which is an awesome feeling. I know he wanted me to cum down his throat, though, so once I felt like I couldn't thrust in him any more without losing my marbles, I pulled out, got up on my hands and feet, aimed my dick at his mouth, and fucked his face. But that felt too good too, so I laid back again and let him suck me. I'd put every inch in and pull it all the way out, long slow strokes, reveling the most in the point when the ridge of my dickhead would just slide out from between his lips. Somehow there is no more beautiful sight. I laid all the way back and he got back into that magic position with his face in my groin, his wide back tapering down to a narrow waist, ridge of muscle leading down to those fuckin meaty cheeks grinding between his hairy thighs, and I just couldn't hold back. If I wasn't so pent up I could have fucked him all day, but I just had to cum in him. He whimpered as he felt jet after jet flood him inside and ground his hips faster and faster into the bed, rolling that beautiful ass. Totally intense.

He kept me in his mouth for a few minutes as I softened up some, and sighed contentedly and sucked out the last drops... but then he jumped up and started to get dressed, asking banalities about my weekend plans and some art he saw on the walls. "I hope you weren't lookin at that the whole time I fucked you!" I said and he laughed and said no, it just caught his eye after. The last time we got together he was a little more languid and chatty after the fuck. He had said he had a birthday coming up, about to turn 40, and had some hangups about that. I mentioned my own midlife crisis beginning around the time of my 20th high school reunion. He was friendly but guarded, and then he scampered off himself.

Hopefully he's not gonna delete his Manhunt profile and tell me he needs to quit hooking up and get serious about finding a boyfriend, too! He's fantastic.

Though I think we should wait a while before we fuck again... so I have some time to miss him.