Paradox

Yesterday I got beautiful oral service and then fucked a wet, slimy load into a willing, hungry body, cumming harder than I have in a long time-- but it was that old paradox: The hottest, most physically satisfying sex is so often with guys I am least attracted to.

I was prickteased all morning on every app and hookup site out there-- literally every single one, dudes seemed unusually horny yesterday for sure-- and they were all pretty good looking guys who all said the right thing and were close by and sounded very hot to trot. But one by one they dropped away when I pushed things towards meeting up. One guy who hits me up maybe every six months but never seals the deal was among them; I like his face and I could bury my face in his ass till I suffocated with glee, it's so sweet-looking. He lives the next neighborhood over and I have no idea what his deal is. But every time he hits me up, it's to tell me he can hook up in two or three hours. Yesterday was no different, but I gave him my number, saying, I might still be around when you call but I don't know, I want something sooner. (I am very no-nonsense about this kind of thing, and wish everyone else was, too.) This time, inexplicably, he had to go to the park for a couple of hours before he could come suck my dick. WTF? I forgot about him and began seeking people further afield, feeling a little desperate to unload in someone as I hadn't cum since Tuesday. While cruising I get a text from him saying he's in the park and do I want to go be in the park with him. I ignored it, thinking, ugh, this guy. On Adam4adam I hit up someone in Astoria who had a zillion rules about how I was to meet him because he was "discreet." But his ass and body looked fantastic and his face pic, while taken at a weird, oblique angle, looked good to me too. He was just 5'7, perfect for manhandling and seeding up. We negotiated slightly less weird rules that I could live with, and I drove up to Astoria to get my rocks off and get on with my day. While driving, the guy in the park texted-- a half hour later than he said he would-- seeming ready to go. I thought, this smells like disaster, this is going to be one of those days, and it was. I ignored the cute/hot-assed dude a few blocks away and continued to my assignation in Queens.

The guy wanted me to walk in and meet him in some room in his apartment. I did, expecting to find him in the usual face-down-ass-up posture, but that's not what I found-- he was just standing to the side of the room, fully clothed--- and looking absolutely, laughably nothing like his picture. He was maybe 15 years older, built nothing like that, and Latino. I thought, this is what I get for being impatient.

But I actually kind of liked his face. He had big features, nice lips, nice ears (something of a fetish of mine), and was wearing a black baseball cap with the bill turned backwards, which was somehow very flattering to him. I thought, this guy will look just fine with my dick in his mouth. I walked up to him and kissed him and he kissed beautifully, actually. "You're gonna suck my dick real good, right?" I asked menacingly, letting him know he better perform because it was clear he had misrepresented himself. He assured me he would, and as we made out some more unbuttoned my shorts, fished out my meat, and began stroking it perfectly, making it swell magically in his hands. I didn't think I could fuck him-- his limbs were kind of spindly and his body wasn't doing anything for me-- but I could tell he knew how to treat a dude's meat.

And he did. He had me hard as a fucking rock and on the edge in no time, and knew how to keep me there. He looked fantastic with my fat choad in his mouth, even if he wasn't as handsome as the kid in the picture. I was pretty happy. We disrobed-- the body under the clothes still did nothing for me-- but I wanted to feel more. So I put him on his back and ground my body into his, making out furiously with him all the while. His kissing style and his facial features were really turning me on at this point; I've said it before, but a nice face can atone for many sins. He signed and hitched his legs tight around my waist, wrapped his arms around my back, and cooed, "You feel so good… Can I just live here, underneath you? I could lie like this forever… you could just fuck me whenever you wanted… you feel so good…" This kind of talk helps, too. My dick was furiously erect and wanted inside his body. So unceremoniously I pushed back his legs, found his hole, and pushed with my hips. He was very, very tight, and grimaced. I pulled out, slicked up with viscous spit, and pushed back in; his grimacing continued, but with a beautifully exciting friction my dick sunk into him about 2/3 of the way, enough for me to slide back and forth, almost exposing my dickhead completely on the out-stroke, and getting enough skin-on-skin action on this partial in-stroke to make me feel like I could easily cum. Precum oozed out of my dick and slicked the way further, but his breathing and movements made it clear it was not ideal for him.

At this point a bit of sadism came out in me. My lizard brain said to the rest of me, if he's going to lure you to Canada with fake pictures, he's gotta let you have your way with his body; he owes it to you at this point. So I kept fucking-- slowly, in part to keep from popping too quick, and in part because I'm not a complete narcissist and didn't want to seriously hurt him. Eventually I relented and asked, "Does it hurt too much?" and he said "Ah… yeah… I am very tight, I haven't been fucked in a while." So I pulled out and ordered him back between my legs. He sucked me some more, and then stroked my tool while we made out. I reached down and found his-- he actually had a really beautiful dick, truth be told, and it felt very good to run my fingers over the ridges and bumps of his picture-perfect dickhead. Then he sucked me some more, stopping only to say "Your dick is perfect… it's so beautiful… I love to suck your dick." He had me feeling extremely fine. Fine enough that I decided I had to fuck him more. I got him back on his back, and he smiled with a bit of chagrin, and I pushed his legs back again, very very far this time, and was able to slide in all the way up to my nuts. The pain seemed to be gone for him, and he just lay there thrilling to the motions of my dick moving in and out of him. I could give him full, long strokes with every inch now, exactly the way I like to fuck. It was unbelievable heaven to fuck this way. I fought back the urge to cum a thousand times. I lowered my face to his, and purred in his ear, "Do you want me to fuck my load into you, or do you want to suck it out of me?" "Whatever you want," he said, "Do what you want." "I don't know, I don't know," I said like a crazy drunk person. "I don't know where I want to cum." I sawed in and out of him some more; my whole body zinged with every slow thrust. Finally it didn't matter what I wanted. The world fuzzed out and my hips bucked hard against him, and he said "Yeah yeah yeah" and I was pounding into him and I was spurting inside him, feeling my thrusts get slicker and slicker as I juiced up his hole with four days of built up sperm production. He began jerking off and just as I was done ejaculating inside him, I felt his asshole pulsating all around me. I looked down and thin jets of hot cum were squirting out of his dick. My dickhead was perfectly lodged just inside his sphincter, so that it was basically palpitating my dickhead's hot spot, running me down the other end of my orgasm beautifully. It was an extremely hot fuck.

We talked a bit after; apparently he mentors the kids who live downstairs, and they have a tendency to just barge into his apartment whenever they like; hence his extreme caution. I can appreciate this more than just some guy who is a complete queen but thinks no one around him knows it and so he has to play cloak and dagger and can't just enjoy fucking with his own body. But as we talked, whatever spell my horniness had cast on me faded, and I saw he was just a regular older gay dude, a little worse for the wear, as if maybe he had been a heavy drinker or drugger in his youth. He was very nice, but I was left perplexed as to where all that intense pleasure had come from, and where it had gone. I kept wishing I'd waited around for the cute guy with the beautiful ass. I kept wondering why it was so crucial that I get off that morning. I got a little depressed.

I spent the afternoon in Bushwick, which I drove to on a lark, looking at giant colorful murals there, and all the put-together arty kids walking up and down the grungy streets, looking unbelievably beautiful and clean and strong. I saw about five hundred guys I wanted to inseminate. I drank an organic juice with celery and pineapple in it. I felt vexed and a little embarrassed.

But there is no escaping the cold hard fact that that lying, not-very-attractive dude made me cum harder than I have in months, and kept my dick feeling like a steel rod for the better part of an hour. What in the world does it all mean?