Ass Fiend

Today I was in the West Village watching a movie with a friend and having some lunch and drinks after. When we finished up I felt like I wanted to get off somehow before going home, but didn't really have a lot of time. But lo and behold, as soon as I logged on to Scruff, a little dude hit me up asking "What are you up to yadda yadda." I quickly progressed things to "Do you give good head and swallow?" territory, and he asserted that he did but wanted a facial, yadda yadda. Turned out he was like 382 feet away from me and just had to "wait till a friend leaves" (who are these people who do Scruff while their friends are right there in their apartments, and yet can't tell said friends, "I have someone coming over now, can we get together again later"??). It took about fifteen minutes of loitering on my part, but finally the friend was gone and the coast was clear for me to head to his place and get my dick sucked. Easy! Except that, perhaps predictably, he gave about the worst head ever, seemed reluctant to kiss, and was all around completely inept in bed. It would have been a disaster, were I not a COMPLETE ASS FIEND and were he not in possession of THE MOST BEAUTIFUL, MEATY, ROUND ASS I'D SEEN ALL MONTH! And this time the ass was enough!

When I got to his place he had to meet me downstairs because his buzzer was broken. In person he looked rather less Magically Delicious than his Scruff photo, which was downright elfin magic with the reddish hair and the sprightly face. He had a fairly meaty-looking body as well, in tight tennis-ish shorts and a tight polo. A little doughy, a little bit too much to grab on to, but all in all nicely shaped. When he turned to lean me up four flights of stairs, I went to pat his ass and ask him if he was ready to suck some dick-- I like to get the engines fired right away-- the contact of my hand on his ass, the light slap that revealed just how firm and taut this ass was, immediately had me thinking maybe I should fuck this dude. We hadn't discussed it at all. But maybe I'd be deep dickin him soon! We got to his place and it was nice and cool and clean, a tiny but cute studio.

I had just finished a big Thai lunch and a huge, fruity, very boozy cocktail, so when I lunched in to kiss and he was less than enthusiastic, I thought maybe I could imagine my breath was not quite minty fresh. (Note to self: always carry Tic Tacs in case you find yourself in the position where you will be randomly thrusting your tongue and dick down someone's throat.) Instead I massaged his buttocks, told him how much I approved of them, and asked if he'd just like to get to work. He said something lame like, "Whatever you like," and I told him to get on his knees. He seemed awkward there and when I revealed my swollen-but-not-hard dong he grabbed it and jacked it some, seeming disappointed that I did not have an instant boner after trudging up four flights of windy stairs on a muggy day. A good cocksucker sees the potential of my dork and sucks it till it's hard and enjoys the sensation of knowing his power over me as a cocksucker. A bad one grabs my unit like a Mr Microphone, sticks the verrrrry tip of it in his mouth, and makes random up and down motions unconnected to any conceivable mental model of manly pleasure that I can construct from my own personal experience as the owner of a penis.

He was a bad one, and did the latter.

Realizing this was going to go nowhere and I could have just gone home and read a comic book or something, I said, "Maybe I will have to eat that ass, man." He looked up at me with disbelief in his eyes, like I had either offered him a million free dollars or had offered to fart on his grandma; I could not tell which. I decided to go with the million dollars interpretation and peeled his clothes off and told him to bend over the bed. He did as he was told, and while I eventually knew he was truly happy to be receiving such attention, it's amazing how you can tell just from how someone moves his body, in such a simple way as bending over, how comfortable he is in that body. This guy was not comfortable. He had an ass that would make Attila the Hun weep tender tears, but did not seem to know it or how to use it, didn't know how to open his legs juuuuust so, how to hold his back, how to present it to an appreciative top. He looked like I was about to examine his prostate. Which, I suppose, I tried mightily to do, with my tongue.

The ass had my dick hard and oozing in seconds. It enveloped my face in its generous, celestial curves. It was smooth as could be but hid a rough, fuzzy taint and the biggest, hairiest, lowest-hanging balls I've seen this century, like ripe plums in a gunnysack. His thighs were rather hairless and swelled with powerful muscles. I lapped away happily at him from his extremely tense position bent over but standing like that, and then when my dick was hard as steel and I knew this was all I was going to get, I directed him to get on the bed and hike his ass in my face. He did as told and I leaned in for serious ass eating. He definitely enjoyed it, moaning especially loud when I ran my hands along the sides of his body with my face firmly pressed in his crack and his huge fat nuts both stuffed in my mouth. His dick was small, oddly shaped, and down-pointing, but it had a nice head on it and I was happy to suck that a bit, too. I actually give pretty decent head. You'd think he would learn. But no. I hopped up on the bed, presently my now impressively tumescent member to him, and he grabbed it greedily and stuffed it back in his mouth, but again all he seemed able to manage was the very very head of it; again with the hand-condom. This was useless. I had to get back to the ass.

So I went back to the ass. I heaped it with croaking praise between bouts of loud, lusty licks and sucks and bites-- he really liked having the rounds of his buttocks chewed a little, and I love it when they love that. I didn't want him to get tired of it. I wanted to eat and eat and eat. But then there it was.

"You want to cum on my ass?"

I think he was ready for it to be done. Again, I'm amazed at how little satisfaction some dudes need in their sex life. I'd been at it maybe 12 minutes. A few times I flipped him on his back and humped his doughy but also muscular body; the first time he said, "Oh wow," and made meaningless flailing motions with his hands around my back, hitching his legs to mine. I can't imagine what his sex life is like. But the tryst was not really progressing in any way I could appreciate, and now he was asking for my cum. It may have been a way for him to avoid me running him through with my bare cock, as well. Several times I left my spot on the floor to kneel behind him and slide the slippery head of my choad up and down between those cheeks, lingering with a delicately insistent pleasure at his hole, a few times even fucking in and out between the meaty globes and juuuuuust barely penetrating him. Maybe he had my number. Or maybe he just needs 12 minutes of the best ass eating I can deliver to be happy. Whatever. I propped myself up and said "You want me to cum?" and he nodded and I popped instantly. We were face to face at this point-- I didn't have time to flip him back over-- so I didn't give him the ass-glazing he asked for. Instead I gave him three long jets of genetic goo stretching along the length of his fish-belly white body, one off to the right, one straight up along the line of his navel, and one arcing off to the left. The rest puddled in short jagged streaks around in his pubes. "That's hot," he said, like Paris Hilton's little brother. He gazed at my handiwork and my body a bit while I gasped and finished stroking the pleasure out of my tool. I looked at his face; he was smiling at least, and I patted my clean hand along side the left of his face and said, "Not bad eh?" and he said "No! Nice!" I told him I needed to clean up-- I'd gotten rather sweaty just from the excitement of eating him out, and needed to clean up a bit.

We chatted idly about plans for the evening and so on but he was extremely awkward. It never has to be this way. But so often is. He thanked me for coming by and I called out goodbyes as I went out the door and hopped down all those stairs. I'd been there barely 15 minutes, and knew of his existence for barely 30. Could have been better, but I admit it was a pretty awesome snack. Fuck, I love ass.