Theatrics

So last night, after a physical therapy session in Brooklyn Heights, I trotted down to DUMBO to inseminate a tiny, 5'2 older Italian dude who, in pictures at least, had an insanely muscular body, beautiful round ass, and a nice face. I'm a sucker for a short guy with a lot of meat on his bones who is crazy about getting deep dicked and loaded up with cum, and he fit the bill. I worried a bit about the pictures being accurate-- especially bottoms at that age tend to round their ages down and use old pictures. And my suspicions were correct: when I arrived at his incredibly over designed apartment building and got to his place, he was older looking than the pictures in face and body. Although overall they were not too far off; he had lost the fullness of musculature he had in his pictures, looking a bit more withered in the limbs. But the muscles he did have were improbably rock-hard and overall it was really not so bad that he was not still fuckable. This could have been a pretty fun fuck, really! The problem? Gawd. The overacting.

When I got there he had a giant TV on with an endless loop of a bunch of studs urinating on a little guy in the middle. Porn is a huge turnoff for me during sex and I often find that guys who have it on when you get there are maybe a bit less in tune with their partners sexually and more about the experience in their heads. We made out a little and his gigantic bulldog-- fully half as big as the guy himself, seemed like-- snuffled and swirled all around me, only going away when the dude yelled and swatted at him. I said unceremoniously, "Porn distracts me, can we go to your bed?" and he seemed a little taken aback, but said, "Sure." So we went to the bedroom and I took off my pants and pushed him to his knees and let him get to work on my meat. I figured this was going to be short and sweet, and I was really right.

The head was OK but the theatrics began immediately. Out-of-proportion whimpering and whining and head thrashing and thigh-grabbing and nipple-twisting. I could barely feel anything where I really wanted it-- on the head of my motherfucking cock, which really, is the whole point. So I decided to lay back on the bed, get comfortable, and see if being flat on the bed might make him calm down a bit and just settle into lapping at my hotspot so my dick would get hard and I could fuck my load into him. But on the bed he was even more hyper, twisting his body this way and that in apparently transportive ecstasies driven into him by the mere presence of my dick. He apparently tuckered himself out with all this pointless, frenzied activity, because eventually he stopped sucking me with long, meat-traversing strokes, as I had directed him to, and resorted to licking the head and tugging on the shaft with his hands-- the universal sign of a reluctant, bored cocksucker. Eeesh.

So I got up, went around behind him, and inspected his ass. It seemed rather wrecked I have to say; I dunno if he gets fisted or what, but it wasn't tight and rosy. But ok, he had a cute little ass overall, once I pushed him down to the bed, so I chowed down, aiming to get myself hard. And this was even worse! Apparently one touch of my tongue sent his brain into a whorl of unbearable delight, and his whole body bucked and shook and he cried out and yelped and all of his limbs were working and his back was twisting and bending. I was barely doing anything! And then he reached back with both hands and pulled his cheeks apart, alarmingly hard, getting his hands in the way of my face. Yes, yes, there's your anus, yes, I see it, yes. Just not a turn on. He also kept pushing and sucking his asshole in and out of his body, reminding me very much of a scene in Videodrome I'd rather not be reminded of when I'm trying to get an erection. I will say he was able to envelop my tongue in a way I can't say it ever has been quite before, but in a way it really just freaked me out.

But I got hard, with some help from my own right hand. And I slipped him my length.

And forget it. Flailing all around, practically crying, gnashing his teeth, grunting, grabbing the covers, shuddering, all kinds of nonsense that just was not fooling anybody. Good God. He practically threw me off the bed with all this, and I'm just trying to plow him long enough to get off and go.

Maybe some dudes find this "wild" and exciting. I am not those dudes.

You wanna know the hottest thing that a dude ever did during sex? It wasn't even voluntary. I was fucking him and getting close to cumming and his eyes were closed in bliss and he was holding my waist as I drove my meat into his (very beautiful, hairy, meaty) body and I felt myself get to the edge and I said, "Open your eyes," and he did, clear green eyes the color of a new leaf, and I said, "Where do you want me to cum," and all he could do was shake and nod his head at the same time, with a half-open mouth, unable to even say "inside me" but able to let me know with this complex gesture that I could do as I pleased, so I pushed my dick in deep and let it throb inside him, and as soon as he felt the first squirt pulse out of my meat, his pupils dilated.

And it made me cum even harder. Just seeing that dot of black in those beautiful green irises widen and deepen, the better to take in the sight of the top that was unloading his nuts inside him right at that instant. THAT was fucking HOT.

Meanwhile, I am doing my best to pin this frenzied little creature to the bed and keep my dick inside him. He was tiny but he was a real powerhouse. Finally I succeeded with one palm planted on his stubbly skull and one on his lower back. It calmed him the way carrying a cat by the scruff of its neck does, I suppose, and I was able to fuck him home and deliver my fetid liquid cargo into his possessed little body.

That, of course, was accompanied by more hysterics: "ARE YOU CUMMING! YOU ARE CUMMING IN ME! AAAAHHHHHHHHHH" and enough hip-swiveling to snap my bone off right at the base. But I rode him through it and pulled out, watching my slimy dick swing back and forth after it popped out.

"There you go," I said, slapping his ass and striding to the bathroom to clean my meat off a bit.

"WOWWWW ALL THAT CUM BLABLABLA!" he said. "So hot to have your cum inside me." Sure sure, dude! My cum! Inside!

We chatted a bit about DUMBO and his old hood, Tribeca, as I dressed, and I left. It was freezing outside, and the wind was howling. I had spent exactly 17 minutes in there, including elevator rides.

I *did* get a fantastic cup of coffee and a kind of home-made Pop Tart, filled with a delicious apricot jam, at the Brooklyn Roasting Company, around the corner from his place. That was the best part!