Good, Handsome, Bareback

Today I squirted everything I had into the body of an extremely beautiful Arab guy, with a perfectly muscled physique and a face that would make you cry with its melding of manly, dark features around the scruffy chin and brow, and soft sensuality in the eyes and lips-- a flawless-looking person who I have absolutely no business sweating all over and ejaculating in, with my schlubby middle-aged body and graying beard, but I fuckin feasted on this guy. His name apparently means "The Good" or "The Handsome" in Arabic. And he lived up to his name. And it almost didn't happen at all: Only a bit of luck got me in the position to juice up that beautiful body with my high-pressure, five-day load.

I had a doctor's appointment late in the afternoon which involved having some crazy, foul-tasting anaesthetic shot up my nostril and then a long fiber optic tube snaked up my nose and down my throat as the doctor peered inside and pronounced my nasoesophgeal tract "gorgeous" inside. I had a meeting for some volunteer work I'm starting a few hours later, which left me some time in Manhattan to kill. I've always wondered how much sex I'm missing out on by not advertising myself as available on the island, so I changed my location on a couple sites and sat on a bench in midtown watching Manhattan's attractive, hurried residents rush by and seeing what prey I could snare from my new location. After about a half an hour, this Flabbergasting Beauty approached me on a site I rarely have luck on, asking if I was looking. I think he and I had spoken at length before during a visit of his, and I thought he *had* to be lying about his pix, because he was (1) film-star handsome,  (2) built like a brick shithouse, (3) extremely eloquent about his taste in sex, and (4) interested in me. But it was so pleasant talking to him, I encouraged it, as fantasy. So here he was, 8 blocks away, asking me to come fuck him. "I like an assertive top," he said. "Give me your address and let me do the rest," I said, and he gave it to me. I was there.

He opened the door to his apartment on the 25th floor of a luxury building wearing just a towel, and was just as handsome as his pictures, and very polite and courtly. However, behind him there was a very weasely older guy in a leather vest and a harness. Flabbergasting Beauty introduced me to him as So-and-So-Who-Was-Just-Leaving. And he left fairly quickly. A little nonplussed, but feeling I needed to pretend like nothing had happened, I kissed Flabbergasting Beauty and tugged on his pretty, fleshy nipple, which made him jolt and whine. "You like that?" I said, and he whimpered and said his nips controlled his whole body. My dick instantly swelled up in my pants and I sucked his lips some more. "Good," I said, "We'll have to work on that. But I have to take a leak." We made out a little more and he showed me to the bathroom. I came out and he was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, where a couple more rather unhealthy-looking leather queens were on the bed doing all kinds of things with all kinds of druggy-looking paraphernalia. "Is this a big party?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant, and one of them laughed at my tone, and Flabbergasting Beauty gave me some more "My friend is just leaving." The oldest leather queen was vexed about his tablet computer which had gone missing, but was lying in plain view on the kitchen counter beside my hat. The old queen picked it up and started going on about pictures of a Great Dane on it. On the big screen tv, a frozen image of Lady Gaga in a very unflattering pose shimmered on the big screen TV. Flabbergasting Beauty started talking to the old leather queen about some Great Dane at a fashion show he had "done" (I assume he's some kind of designer?), which had been hard to control and did not like the sausages they were feeding it, because "he only wanted kosher." I laughed but I was rapidly losing interest in this insane, drugged out, leather-drag scene. The old queen left, and I tried to put the moves on Flabbergasting Beauty again, but another leather queen emerged from the bedroom-- this bedroom was like a leather queen clown car-- and went up behind him as I was sucking his face and stroking his torso up and down.

I was over it. "You're really beautiful," I said, "but I really don't like the group thing." Flabbergasting Beauty opened his eyes and looked deep into mine with an expression that was hard to read. "It looks like you've got a lot to keep you entertained here, though. So I'm the odd man out." And I left; he mumbled something apologetic but I didn't look back.

I waited for the elevator hoping more leather queens would not appear to ride down with me, and I could feel my sad dick deflating in my shorts and weeping a small streak of wasted precum. Beauty has a strong hold on me, but only goes so far; I was thoroughly turned off and disappointed.

I went further uptown to hang out waiting for my meeting, and when I got out of the subway, a text was waiting from Flabbergasting Beauty. "Are you still free? I kicked them all out, I wasn't feeling it at all. I'm alone now, do you want to come back?" I cursed my luck, and wondered if I should have somehow kicked all those dudes out myself, rather than leaving. But that's not my style. So I told him I was sorry but I'd already made other plans. "Can you come over after you are done?" he asked. "You are my type. I didn't want you to go." Nice! Flattery and begging! Things were looking up. But I really didn't have any time before my meeting at this point. So I told him I'd check in when I was done and decided to let fate decide. If his standards were that low, there was little chance he'd still be free an hour later, I thought.

When my meeting was done I texted him and asked, "Got company again, handsome?" And he said no, he'd thrown everyone out and had "not said yes to anyone else." I found this very flattering, if true. I shuddered a little wondering if any of those skanks had cum in him, and thinking of how messy and squalid the bed had looked. But I gulped a little and decided to go through with it-- it really just is not often I get to fuck someone so amazing looking who is so obviously sensual as he was when I was kissing him. So I took a short train ride back down.

He had seriously spruced up the apartment when I got there and it smelled clean and fresh. "I hate mess," he said, and he launched into a tirade about rude New Yorkers-- apparently he'd invited one person over, and that guy had invited a whole crowd without permission, and yadda yadda. So that made me feel a little better about the earlier scene. We started getting into it again and he was extremely tactile, like a pussy cat. "I waited for you," he pouted into my ear. "I am really happy you saved yourself for me," I growled back. "Now you have to let me do whatever I want. Give me your body." And he nodded and put his head against my neck and ground his hardening dick into my groin and whimpered, "Are you going to treat me right?" And I told him, "I'm going to make you feel really good, but you just give me your body, give me your ass, OK?" And he said OK, and we went to the bed. I pulled off his sweatpants and turned him around to face an ass that left me stupid and speechless. At first I just stroked my face against it, very lightly, and felt his body shake with the pleasure of contact with my beard. He murmured more words about giving me his ass, about doing whatever I wanted.

After some more slow exploration of his body, in which I stroked his rockin musculature all over and felt him up between his thighs and cupped his ass from below, he looked right into my eyes again, and said, "I have to ask you something. I have some GHB that I want to take. It's just a small dose. I won't take it if you don't want me to. But I'll have to throw it away if I don't." I must have made a face, because he said, "Of course I have to ask, I won't do it if you don't want me to." I don't know from party drugs, so I just said, "Can you act normal on it?" and he said "Yeah, it just makes me extremely horny." And I said, "OK, whatever gets the job done." He went to the bedside table and gulped down something that looked like orange juice to me, and came back and sucked my dick, and fairly quickly, he metamorphosed into an amazing sex toy. His already sensual nature was totally amped up, and just a flick of his nipple or a long slow lick up from his collarbone to his ear sent him into some other universe of pleasure. His body was about the same size as mine, although he was shaped like a wrestler from Mount Olympus and I'm shaped like your dad, so when I laid on top of him and ground my dick into his, every joint and bone lined up between us, and he curled himself around me deliciously, holding me close to him and interlacing his fingers with mine up over his head and squeezing so hard I felt he could snap the bones in my hand. "Get close to me," I said in his ear. "Hold on to me." And he pressed even closer. My dick strained with it's mute, instinctual desire to get inside him. I flipped him over and ate out his ass. If I reached up under his torso and just so much as touched his chest with my finger, I would feel his asshole dilate sharply around my tongue and suck it in. This was awesome. He was awesome. I was awesome.

I stood up and put my steel-hard prick against his hole, and started to push. He yelped and pulled away. "Go slow," he said. I put it back, and cooed supportive words to him, "Come back to me, baby, take it in, you know you want it, come on back," and he slowly inched back, looking over his shoulder at me. I put two fingers on his trapezius and applied some pressure. "Come on back," I said, and I felt him open and my dickhead slid in to the ridge. "That's a good boy," I said, "you want the whole thing, just come on back." And he dropped his head and moaned, and I put my fingers on his head and pulled back some more, and slowly my dick sank into him inch by inch.

The beauty of his body impaled by my rod was almost too much, and I started sawing away at him. "Fuck me slow," he said. "Don't be rough, fuck me slow." So I fucked him slow, almost excruciatingly slow, but it was what I needed too, because my head was spinning just looking at his perfect form and my nuts were aching from being overloaded with fuckjuice. There was no way I was going to cum with this guy until I'd had my fill. So I fucked him in dreamlike centimeters that made me feel like I was on some kind of fuck drug, too. Somehow he slowly managed to turn over from face-down to on his side, where I could see my dick slithering between his thighs and into his hot, humid asshole better, and then flat on his back with his legs pushed open wide, perfectly receiving my heaving body-- all without my dick ever coming out. "I like it when you sit up," he said, and I knelt up a bit higher, which made my dick shift up inside him, and he moaned and turned to jelly. I thrusted up into him and hit that perfect spot, over and over. He felt like silk inside. My dick had never felt so perfect. My cum had never roiled in my balls so intensely.

If I pushed in him very deep and squeezed the muscles between my legs to make my prick swell and engorge, his eyes would open wide, and he would pull me into him roughly and we were a tight ball of fuck, rocking back and forth. He was intensely attuned to my body; I can only imagine it was the drug, but it was extremely nice for me. I couldn't hold it back any more; this slow in and out was driving me out of my mind. So I said, "I gotta cum," and I started body slamming him. He woke up instantly, yelping like an animal, and grappled with me as I fucked all my frustrated spooge into him. When I was done I didn't stop-- he was so meaty, so muscular, so beautifully formed that I just wanted to feel that pounding contact against him. He just wanted my dick in him over and over. I wasn't getting soft, my dick did not want to stop fucking. He turned on his side again. I kept fucking. "You're full of my cum now," I mouthed into his ear, and he fucked back against me. He licked the sweat off my face.

Afterward I held him for a long time, with my dick inside him, sucking his nips a little, or flicking them with my fingers, and he curled into me closely, blind and helpless with intense bodily sensation. I told him I had to take a shower and go, and he nodded, but when I stood up, he saw my dick, and his face got that worshipping, helpless look, so I stood still. He sucked it some more, and held it in his hand, and put his head against my chest, stroking me very slowly. I ran my hand up his torso and feeling his chest hair made my dick swell in his hand, and he sucked it more and moaned with pleasure, and I got turned on again, and pushed him on his back and humped him furiously; more grappling, more nip sucking, more incredible kissing. I thought if I kept it up I might cum again, maybe get it all over him, rub it into his skin. But I had to go, I was starving, it was late. Somehow we made it over to the shower, kissing the whole way, and got into the stall together. It had a windowed wall, down to the waist, that looked out across the towers of western Chelsea and to the Hudson beyond, and he curled into me under the hot shower as I swooned a bit at the view, being terrified of heights, but feeling awesome to be 25 stories up in the air with this unbelievably beautiful man in my arms. We made out, soaped each other up, rinsed each other off; he put my dick between his ass cheeks and let the water run over his head; I touched him all over for the thousandth time.

I dried off and got dressed. I couldn't keep my hands off him. We kept kissing, I kept saying I had to go. One of the leather queens called while I was putting on my clothes and said he'd left a shopping bag there. When he showed up, we were still kissing our goodbyes. He left, and more kissing; I barely noticed.

I was ravenous after this and had dinner in the Village. It's hard to believe the things I get to experience, sometimes. I've expended a lot of words on this, but I don't feel I can express how beauty and pleasure affect my soul. I can barely recollect it perfectly. But I can still feel it. Fucking is living.