Compulsion

My latest ejaculation, released about 30 minutes ago in Fort Greene, left the totality of my past two days' semen production deposited deep in the body of a little 29-year-old latino slip of a thing, small and thin enough for me to snap in two like a pretzel stick. He was, however, laughably unlike his photos, which showed a trim but finely muscled body, along with a partner who was also small in stature but much thicker. I rarely am interested in groups but they both looked fantastic to fuck, and I instantly fantasized about having them both on all fours in front of me, going back and forth between them with tongue and prick, or eating one ass while being blown by the other. He said he was alone today, though, which made the decision easier. He was honestly much more articulate than guys who look like his pictures are-- it has to be said, the hotter the guy the stupider and more frustrating he is to communicate with, usually-- which should have been a tip off. But it is a beautiful summery day, bright and breezy, and the pictures and his easy availability instantly filled my blood with the desire to rut and spread my seed. I have work to do, and errands too, but sex…. sex is the thing I can never argue with. I never get tired of it, despite the endless sameness of much of the mechanics. Am I compulsive? And is that a good thing, or a bad thing, to be filled with desire so easily? Those thoughts were bubbling underground as I got my car keys, brushed my teeth, and rode over.

As luck would have it, I found a parking space right on his block. His building is in an area with a lot of housing projects; I thought, oh gawd, don't make me have to go in there to fuck today. I've fucked a few guys in housing projects up here, and it's not *that* bad, except for the one time I got stuck in the elevator in one with a bunch of panicked, screamy black girls who rocked the elevator car and somehow pulled the doors open. (That turned out to be one of the hottest fucks of my life: the guy had a beautiful meaty body and was intensely sensual and wide-open to everything I did for him; we screwed for almost two hours and I felt like I ejaculated half my spine into him, it was so good.) But no, he was in a rather nice new building across the street from the projects, and he buzzed me up, and did the door-hanging-open-face-down-on-the-bed thing.

Except the room was flooded with light and I wasn't really going to be fooled by this ploy. He was just a scrawny kid sprawled out on the bed. He turned to look at me as I went over to the bed, and there on a ledge I saw a bottle of poppers. I instantly remembered that he'd asked me to bring over lube and that in my deep musings about my relationship to my testicles, I completely forgot to bring any. This gave me an easy out. "Shit!" I said with honest dismay, though he was definitely not what I had come over there to fuck. "I forgot to bring lube!" He shrank back a bit, and looked a little wounded, like the inevitable rejection had come. "We can't fuck without lube!" (Of course we can. I always spit and slip; I actually hate lube.) "Maybe next time?" he said feebly, sensing his own opportunity slipping away. I laughed and shook my head. "Sorry man! I completely forgot." And I started to turn to go.

I still just wanted to shoot my seed in a warm, welcoming body, truth be told. I was just full of sap.

"Want to eat some?" he asked brightly, stopping me in my tracks. He'd asked for a lot of rimming online and I told him I would totally bury my face in his rear, and I thought, what the hell. So I turned back towards the bed and he got back into position, with a jockstrap visible over his slightly slid-down nylon shorts-- two normally hot-button items which to me are about as unsexy as can be imagined. I pulled the shorts off instantly.

And the ass, I must say, was not at all bad.

He *was* a very scrawny little specimen-- I felt rather like Gigi daintily dining on ortolans while I worked over his ass cheeks, but I have to say, the shape, the firmness, and the contrast of his rather fleshy rear against his tiny waist and slender limbs only made it stand out more as ASS. And when I reached down to hold his dick, as I do indeed like to do while I eat ass, I felt that it was, well, humongous. He was barely 5'8 and 140 pounds, but he had a seriously long unit and nice nuts, too. I didn't remove any of my clothes or my watch, I just ate his ass a while, thinking, am I compulsive? But it was good! It made my dick hard! Before long I had to lose my own shorts so I could stroke my dick and heighten the pleasure of sending this kid to derrière nirvana. And between the chewing on the cheeks and the gnawing at the gooch and licking up the ligaments between his legs and pubes, I felt his asshole completely engulf my tongue, at the same moment I smelled an acrid burst of poppers hit the air.

That was all I needed. My dick engorged with hot blood, strained in my hand, and I slicked it up with saliva and knelt behind him and put my dick against his hole. I pushed a little, and it began to slide, and he pushed back against me. I quit my own movements, just saying, "Come on little baby, take the dick. You can take it. Come on back." And I gently stroked his hipbones with my fingertips, from front to back, verrrry gently coaxing him into swallowing up my entire bone in his body. He got about half way and then I tried to push, and he grimaced hard.

I didn't want to hurt the poor kid, so I said, "Let me eat you more." He wiggled with excitement, got back into position, and I opened him up more with my tongue. Every time I visited his hole it was more and more relaxed, and I could sink my tongue in deeper and deeper. And then I put my dick back, and the kid took it all the way in, till I bumped my bush up against his tail.

And then we seriously fucked. He wasn't very cute, his body wasn't anything to look at at all, but the ass was very sweet, warm and now very slick inside. He flipped on his back and I grasped his legs and pushed back hard, to raise his hole to where it needed to be to accept my battering ram, and in this position it glided in like a hot knife into a chunk of butter. "Come down to me come down to me," he begged, and I put as much of my weight on him as I could while maintaining armfuls of leg, and kissed him while I heaved my fuckstick into his bunghole. He flipped again, and I got on his back, and we got our bodies very close. I pressed my beard against his clean shaven face and breathed roughly into his ear while I plowed his body deep. It felt good but not the usual, where I want it to last and last, as with a really beautiful guy. For once I really just wanted to get off. I just wanted to spread my seed, I just wanted this fuck. So I let it go. I fucked deeper and deeper and harder and harder until my body was forced to eject its slime. And then I pushed in deep and held still, and he gasped, and I said into his ear, "I'm cumming in you. Do you feel it?" My dick was pulsing hard against his inner walls, squirting out everything I had in my nuts. I let six or seven spurts pop into him as I lay still so he could really feel what my dick was doing, hidden way inside him. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god," he kept saying as my erection kept jerking with each shot. And then I pounded against him again, wanting to get the most out of this orgasm; I just held his thighs tight and rammed my body into his, using his prostate as the firm target of my dickhead, rubbing up against it to maximize my climax, and I spurted a few more hot gushes of my manly emission into him. He curled neck into mine and kissed me and we breathed together and held our bodies close. I had cum hard and fast and it was animalistic and good.

Slowly then I pulled out; I went limp very quickly. He had said, before I started eating him, that he was worried his partner would come home early, and couldn't get any reply from him. I asked him about it as I swaggered over to the bathroom to wash off my dick, which was swinging all wet and gooey between my thighs. I pointed out that they had the joint profile. "Well otherwise we're kinda don't ask, don't tell," he said from the doorway of the bathroom, watching me tend to my gooey meat. "Don't ask, don't tell, don't walk in on another dude spooging inside you," I suggested, and he laughed. "Yeah, like that." "Well, I think I parked illegally anyway, so maybe it's just as well we hurried. I'll be out of your hair in a second." I got my dick sparkly and new again, and then put on my clothes and hunted for my glasses. They were lying on a desk next to a book by Andy Warhol that I had just read a few months ago. We talked a little bit about art and suchlike, but mostly I wanted to check on my car and get out of there before his partner appeared.

I got downstairs and there was no ticket, thank God. The traffic home was misery even though it was at most three miles. But I had the top down, I had a satisfied, fuzzy-warm dick curled up in my pants, empty balls that will leave me alone for a couple of days, hopefully.

...Until I'm compelled to fuck again!! Like a vampire that injects body fluids instead of sucking them out!