Pictures

Tonight I went up to Murray Hill to juice up the body a little latin guy, maybe 5'8, who has chased me for a month or so now, setting up times in the near future when I can fuck him, but who never knows who I am when I text him, and typically never replies once I remind him. Today was going to be his third chance, and this I only was giving him because his picture was awfully handsome in a new way-- I have never fucked a guy who looked quite like this, somehow. Not my usual type but quite appealing. He'd told me yesterday he'd be off today at 5:30 and wanted me to do him. I replied this morning saying I would text him around then if I was free. And I did, and predictably, to my irresistible "Hey wanna fuck" text, he replied, "Yes! Who is this?" (which is hilarious; how many of us get random texts asking us if we want to fuck, right when we want to fuck, but we have no clue who it is?). I told him who I am, and this time he sent me his address. So I ran up there. And, of course, this being the theme for the week, it was not the guy in the picture! He was nice enough looking, not quite as glamorous as the picture but nice enough, and had a very cute little body that I really enjoyed wrapping my considerably bigger bulk around and feeling up as we made out very nicely. But the ass definitely wasn't his either, which was a bit of a disappointment, and led to a fairly mundane fuck. But he turned out to be a nice guy, during our long post-coital chat, and as I left him and went back to the subway, I felt that deep satisfaction only a top can feel when he has deposited his semen in yet another dude in yet another locale. I love getting off in other dudes and leaving them with my cum inside them.

We made out and felt each other up a lot, and he smelled really nice; I don't know what soap he uses but for some reason it was turning me on. He sucked me till I was hard as a rock, on the floor at my feet, as he manipulated his own ridiculously big dick-- I love these tiny little guys with huge dorks in their pants; it's a fun surprise and had not been advertised on his profile. I flipped him over to inspect his ass, which I could tell from exploring it with my hands had almost no substance to it at all. But I still ate it out, and his hole dilated beautifully. He quickly flipped back, pulled his kneecaps up to his ears, and somehow made it gape at me hungrily. I guess he just wanted meat and he wanted it now. I was plenty hard, despite the disappointment at not being able to buy my face in his rear any, so I obliged, and pushed my fat tubesteak into him; against his slender frame my prong looked like a monster choad and I also love that, not being particularly endowed. He felt inviting and warm inside, and I got harder once I hit bottom inside him, but he was maybe a little too diligent with cleaning out; he had completely wiped out any inner moisture and his inner walls felt squicky and dry, giving my dick that wet-finger-against-balloon feeling you get from some guys who are not particularly juicy inside; I was a little disappointed. But he was so in love with being fucked, and held me so tightly, arms on my hairy back, or hands clutching my hairy knees, that I felt excited fucking him, and quickly felt like I would cum. He wanted me inside him as deep as possible. He pulsed inside deliciously along the length of my bone and at one point I almost lost it, far too early in the fuck, and had to hold myself perfectly motionless, clenching every muscle between my legs to keep from slipping into orgasm; my dick finally relented, saying "BLAH" and spurting out one small jet of cum way inside him. But this served to slime him up inside sufficiently to get a much nicer glide on subsequent strokes. (I actually don't agree with a lot of rabid barebackers that "cum is the best lube"; I think it's a little too thin for a good velvety sensation. But whatever weird chemistry he had in there helped my spooge act more like lube than usual.)

And I deep dicked him long and slow, had one more single-spurt proto-orgasm, and kept up the thrusting; he had curled himself back into a tiny ball and was just loving being completely open to me. Finally my dick was sick of being bullied around and said "I'm gonna burst now and you can't stop me." I told him I was going to cum and he furiously fisted his big fat tool while I bucked my cum into him, very hard and fast. And then he popped a minute later, as I held his nipple with one hand and his face with his other; as he ejaculated he choked my still-engorged member furiously inside; this guy must have pubo-coccygial muscles of steel. I flopped back to rest, having worked up a sweat despite it being a rather short 20 minutes fuck or so, and he stoked the hair on my body, delightfully exclaiming, "Nice and fuzzy!" with a very cute Long Island accent.

We talked a bit after that; he seemed to be cuddly and I was rather tired and enjoyed the attention he was giving me. But I was very sticky and sweaty, so at a lull in the conversation about where we're from and suchlike, I asked if I could rinse off. He quickly clammed up, disappointed and embarrassed that he'd talked a bunch, but I kissed him and stroked him to put him at ease, and let him know I wasn't one of those dudes who is all passion when I'm inseminating him but cold as ice afterwards. I quickly rinsed and we chatted some more as I got dressed. He showed me the view he had of the Chrysler Building from his bedroom, and said, "That was my inspiration!" I didn't know what he meant, so he pointed at a painting on the wall behind me, a very graphic, kaleidoscopic rendition of four Chrysler Buildings meeting at a point. "I'm an artist!" he beamed, and I made encouraging noises. He also had a big painting of the Capricorn zodiacal sign; I asked if he had mine (Scorpio, of course), and he said, "Not a big one, but I have some prints..." and he went to his desk and rummaged through some folders, pulling out a similar one of a scorpion. "Here, let me sign it," he said, and he did, and gave it to me. It was actually rather sweet; I protested I couldn't take it but he insisted. "I'd like you to have it!" he effused. I once had someone mail me a thank-you card in the 90s after I fucked him; this is not quite as good but pretty nice!

We talked and I put my hands all over him a little more, and then I gathered my things to go. He kept calling me "Handsome mister!" and when I turned to exit the door I felt him grab my calf muscle playfully and call out, "Keep in touch!" It was fun, but I still wish I could have fucked the dude in the picture.

On the subway home I thought about it and decided I wanted to try to find MY fake picture! If I, for whatever reason, could not reveal my own superhero identity on the net, and had to be someone else, who would I be? I decided to search the internet for some images. This was actually harder than I thought it would be. This is NOT my body:

And this is NOT my face:

Wanna fuck?