I was back in the Midwest for a brief couple of days. As is my practice, I usually fly into Chicago and rent a car from there to go where ever I need to be in either of the 3I states (Iowa, Illinois and Indiana).
I had finished my business in Iowa and was headed back to Chicago where I had planned to spend the night and catch an early flight back to Washington the next day.
The night before I left IA, I had chatted with a guy from Peoria IL on one of the on-line hookup sites. We had chatted on numerous occasions…nothing really special…just your usual “setup banter” with a guy whom one day you MIGHT hookup with if all of the cards fell into place. I had long since made it clear to him that when/if we ever did hookup, it would be bareback and that I would breed him. He seemed to be good with all of that … but you never really know if the guy is really down with it… or is he just saying that because he knows that it is a remote chance that we will ever meet.
Originally, I had no plans of ever meeting the guy for a couple of different reasons. One is that it would take a great deal of coordination and everything would have to fall into place to pull it off…something that rarely happens with causal on-line hookups. Second, while he was a nice looking guy, he was not my ideal type. He is 6’1”, 32”waist, very (almost pasty) white (not a bad thing), no muscle definition to speak of and moderately hairy in only a few places but a full, neatly trimmed beard. Judging from his enthusiasm during all of our chats, he clearly is turned on by body types that are the complete opposite of his own.
Most of his public on-line photos were of him at work, and it was obvious that he is either a computer or some other type of technical engineer. From our chats, it was also obvious that he is smart…borderline nerd…again… not a bad thing for me as every nerd I have ever fucked has been a world class, grade “A” fuck! What is it with nerds? Don’t want to hang out with them at all, but love to fuck the shit out of them…they can take a pounding, but they get this look on their face like they are about to cry or something…BOY HOWDY!
Anyway, when “Clutter”…I will get to why I call him that in a minute…got on line, it instantly occurred to me that I could easily change my route back to Chicago to one that would take me through Peoria. Consequently, I changed the demeanor of my chat with him. I needed to know that he was really up for a hard bare fuck before I changed all of my plans.
Me: “What time will you be home from work tomorrow?”
Clutter: “I am usually home by 5:00 why?”
Me: “I will be driving back to Chicago tomorrow for an early flight the next day. I am going to come through Peoria. I will be stopping by your place to drop a three day load in your ass at 6:00”
It took him about two minutes to send this response
Clutter: “Yes Sir. My address is …. How do you want to take me Sir”
Me: “I want you all cleaned and naked on your bed…leave your front door unlocked for me… have lube and fresh poppers by the bed”
Clutter: “Yes Sir”
Me: “This is my cell…call me if there is a problem, but I expect you to come through and not disappoint me”
Clutter: “I wont disappoint you Sir…I need this too much Sir”
Yes, I too thought that was a rather strange response but decided to not push, figuring that it would make sense later…and it did.
I arrived at Clutter’s house at 5:55. There was a car in the driveway so I knew that he was home. Everything looked good at this point. I fiddled around in the car for a couple of minutes. At 6:00 I went to the front door and it was locked! Pissed…I was about to turn and leave when I heard footsteps coming towards the door from inside the house. A second later, the lock was thrown back and the door was opened just a crack. I stood there for a moment…debating…what the fuck is this…I hate these silly fuckin games… I turned and was leaving when I heard
Clutter: “Please Sir”
I stopped…agitated
Clutter: “I just forgot to unlock the door Sir… Please Sir”
I turned, walked back to and through the doorway into what looked like the inside of one of those houses ravished by Katrina. There was books, magazines, clothes, boxes and other shit EVERYWHERE! Now you know why I call him “Clutter.”
As I stepped all the way into the house, a naked Clutter closed the door behind me. I looked at him…looked around the extremely messy house and then back to him. Clutter new what I was thinking and he had this look on his face…a Scared Little Boy look…he knew that I was about to leave again, and I think he was actually trembling when he said
Clutter: “Please…Sir…Please…don’t go”
I think I have written before about how a messy, dirty house is a complete turn-off for me…Clutter’s house clearly fell into that category…but the way he was looking at me…clearly embarrassed, vulnerable and frightened…I gave an exasperated sigh and nodded my head for him to lead the way to his bedroom.
He bedroom was cluttered also, but not quite as bad. His bed was cleared off in preparation for use, but the sheets were not fresh. I resigned myself to the fact that this was going to be a Nasty Fuck!
Once in the bedroom, Clutter instantly dropped to his knees and started to undo my pants. He soon had my fat black cock in his eager mouth. I have to give him credit…bad housekeeper, but a top notch cock sucker…no gag reflex and he can contract his throat around the cock…felt fuckin awesome!
I also have to say that at least HE was clean. He obviously just came from the shower and when I pushed his legs up to check out his hole… it too was clean as a whistle so I dove into it with my tongue. Honestly, his ass tasted great. He had douched but it must have been earlier in the day because although it was clean and smelling like soap on the outside, that slight sweaty musty smell and taste was just past the sphincter…PERFECT!
Honestly, I got lost in eating his ass for a full fifteen minutes or so. At that moment, I did not care that the house was a mess, or that I still had another three hours drive ahead of me. All I cared about was getting as much fat tongue and spit into that hole as I could. As you know from previous posts, eating good ass makes me hard as steel, and by the time I was done munching I was more than ready to fuck Clutter silly.
It was also obvious that Clutter liked having his ass eaten cause when I looked at his very respectable 7” and medium thick cock, he had been precumming so much that I thought he had shot a load…I don’t think I have ever seen anyone precum as much as him…it just kept oozing out every time he would flex his cock.
Clutter was on his back and holding his legs to his chest waiting for me to get in him. I started to reach for the lube and poppers but Clutter stopped me
Clutter: “I don’t need those Sir…I mean… I don’t want them… I want to really feel you…the pain and all”
Me: “Well you are kind of a small guy with a really small hole…it will hurt like hell”
Clutter: “I know Sir…but I want to be able to feel you long after you have gone…Please…Sir”
With that I spat on my hand and rubbed it on my rock hard cock head. I also spat a couple of times directly on Clutter’s hole before positioning the head of my cock against the center of his pucker. I then leaned forward so that my center of gravity was directly above Clutter’s chest, which raised my hips a bit, and then in one swift motion I shifted all of my weight back and thorough, driving my hips down and popping my fat black cock balls deep into Clutters hole…he screamed in pain…I pulled out, and did exactly the same thing again… he screamed again…in pain. I pulled all the way out again and let him curl up into the fetal position. As he dealt with the pain, I grabbed the bottle of lube and oiled my cock well. Clutter hesitantly let me spread his legs again and I gently lubed his hole with one, then two, then three slick fingers. By this time, he was coming back around from the pain, and he was now open. I put his legs up on my shoulders, entered him more gently this time… and proceeded to fuck him solid for about ten minutes non-stop. During this part of the fuck, Clutter looked me straight in the eyes…mouth open… grunting in time with the fuck.
I then turned him on his side a bit, and brought his right knee up to his chest and left his other leg out straight. This position allows for the deepest penetration and changed the angle at which my cock entered his hole. In this position, Clutter rested his head on his outstretched left arm, closed his eyes and just got lost in the deep fucking that I was giving him.
During one of our chats, Clutter mentioned that what he loved most was being on his belly and feeling the full weight of the top on him as his cock moves in and out of his hole. So for the big finish, I put Clutter on his belly, road up high on his ass so that my fucking was more of an up and down motion. I had my full weight on top of him…my chest to his back…my arms threaded underneath his armpits and holding on to his rists…and my mouth right behind his left ear. With each down stroke I grunted into his ear until I was finally ready to shoot
Me: “Yeah…I going to cum…I am going to cum…I am cuming in your hot little assss!”
With that I shot a full three day load deep inside him. As soon as he knew I was cuming, he clamped down on my cock so that he could feel my cock pulse with each squirt of cum deep in his bowels. The whole time I was shooting… Clutter was making this deep guttural moaning sound which was extremely hot!
When I was done shooting, but still buried deep in Clutter’s ass, he rolled me and himself over onto our left sides…raised his right leg a bit…grabbed his rock hard cock with his right hand and stroked it maybe five times before he shot a massive load of very thick and very white cum all over his already dirty bed sheets.
As soon as he was done shooting his load, he grabbed my right arm and wrapped it around him. My left was already underneath him so the effect was me holding him with my cock slowly slipping free from his wet hole. While he pulled my arm around him, he also nestled back into my chest and made me hold him tight, which was ok, but what I did not expect was the tears…I thought I was mistaken at first, but after about fifteen seconds his shoulders shook as he literally began to sob.
I had no idea what was wrong…I did not need or want to know what was wrong…I just knew enough to say nothing, and just hold him for awhile.
After holding him for about thirty minutes, he was fast asleep. As quietly as I could, I extricated myself from his hold, got dressed and left. I am sure that he woke up as I was getting out of the bed, but I figured that it was just easier for him to pretend to still be asleep with his back to me rather than try to explain his emotional breakdown.
When I arrived at the hotel in Chicago and fired up the computer, I had a long email from Clutter. I would never go into it here, but lets just say that he had been going through some loneliness and abandonment issues which turns out to be the root cause of his hoarding problem, where he simply cant throw anything away. He recently returned to therapy and is getting help.
I am certainly not a shrink, so I do not even pretend to understand it all, but at some level…after reading Clutters email and then chatting with him a couple more times I think I am beginning to understand better…It is sex…but sometimes…it is so NOT about sex at all…sometimes…it is about being raw, intimate, primal and natural with another living breathing human being who chooses to give you the MOST intimate thing one can give to another…their DNA.
>>>>>>>>>> >>>NOTE TO ALL READERS OF THIS BLOG<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
I know that there is often a long time between posts…sorry about that, but when the blog is about REAL SHIT that actually happens instead of fantasy…lets face it…does anyone have interesting, blog worthy sex encounters every day?…and even if one does, who has the time to write it all up and post it DAILY…maybe some do… not me. On the other hand…being an avid blog reader myself I know what it is like when none of your favorite bloggers have anything new to post. So…I am willing to TRY something new on a limited basis to see how it goes. Some readers of this blog take it upon themselves to reach out to me regarding some of their own experiences especially when I post something that strikes a particular sexual cord or memory for them. I have often though that some of the stuff that you guys send me would be good blog material if you had a blog of your own…but you don’t. So to try and help fill in the gaps between my own posts, I am willing to…with permission… to entertain guest post on this blog…but with some very strict rules.
1) The story has to be absolutely true… it has to happen…this is a blog about real shit…I want to keep it that way…trust me, if it sounds too out there to be true…it will never get posted here. I understand that some facts have to be changed or fabricated to protect ID…that is ok…but 98% of it has to be REAL.
2) I only want your first sexual experience stories where you either got fucked for the first time or you fucked for the first time…Again, I have to keep this manageable for me and the little time that I have for this…so for now it is limited to First Fuck Experiences…or second or third…you get the idea…early experiences…why them?… cause I think those are the hottest stories.
3) You have read this blog… it is very specific about the good stuff… the sex…very graphic and descriptive… yours needs to be the same.
4) Don’t be a free-loader…even if you don’t think your story is hot…trust me…it will be to someone… honestly, I am always amazed that ANYONE reads this blog…to me…honestly…these encounters are rather dull, dry, boring…but I understand that others see the same story totally differently…so send my your first fuck story no matter what you think of it…DON’T just keep reading and enjoying the stories of others without offering your own…
The address to send your stories or comment or whatever…blk4whtass@live.com
Showing posts with label Midwest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Midwest. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Thank You Brother...Continued (part 2)
After I left Farm Boy, I continued to walk around the back room. There was one older guy that was bird-dogging me but I really was not interested…not because he was older…rather because he had long hair and a long haired beard that was much more gray than brown…I don’t know why, but men with long hair just don’t do anything for me.
After about ten minutes of walking around I found the middle-aged guy again…standing in a booth stroking his cock.
I stood there in the door way for a bit not sure if I should try again or not. Myself, I hate it when you just are not into someone in a place like that but they keep trying to get you to let them suck your dick or whatever. Also, standing there in the door way, I got a much better look at the man. Yes…definitely middle aged, with some slight gray hair on the edges of his neatly trimmed hair line. Additionally, his rather conservative glasses made him look like you would expect a Deacon of the local Southern Baptist Church to look like…hence I will call him Deacon here.
As I stood there in the door, Deacon covered his cock and balls a bit with his right hand, but his left continued to slow stroke his 7.5” cut cock…all the while he kept his eyes on the monitor. He was neither inviting me in, nor shooing me away.
I stood there for another 30 seconds, not really sure if this was going to workout or not. Then I decided to step in the booth, but rather than step toward him, I slid along the wall far enough in so that I could see the monitor. When I moved, Deacon paused his stroking. Clearly, this was a man dealing with a war in his head between his desire, and his comfort level with those desires.
When I was far enough inside the booth to see the monitor…Deacon looked at me strangely… it was a worried look…like I was about to find out something. I held his eyes in mine…just as I did with the Farm Boy…letting him know that it was “OK”.
When I broke the stare and looked at the monitor, I understood completely.
On the screen was straight porn, but it was a black guy with a huge cock fucking the hell out of this little white girl who was screaming in either pain or extreme pleasure…not really sure which.
I turned back to Deacon who again looked at me with strange winkled brow that seemed to say: “now you know my secret”
I very calmly, unbuttoned my jeans, lowered my zipper and pulled out my…by now…very fat and hard black cock. Deacon watched my every move and had stopped stroking his cock, which looked like it was even harder and bigger than before.
With my cock out of my pants, I very gently reached for his right hand and brought it over to my cock. Once he had hold on my dick, I reached over and took his cock in my right hand. For the next minute or so all we did was stroke each other. Deacon seemed fascinated and would not take his eyes off my cock. He kept squeezing it and hefting it like he was trying to get an idea of its actual weight or something. It was clear that this was indeed the first black cock that he had seen up close let alone touch.
Twice during our mutual stroking he had to grab my right hand and stop me from stroking him for fear he would cum.
If you have been reading this blog then you know that I really get off on the contrast between my dark skin and the pale/pink skin of white guys…add to that…getting to see the white guy get jazzed by that same contrast for the first time…well…you can imagine how extremely sexually charged moment was.
Without saying a word, Deacon slowly sat down on the bench in the booth and continued to softly stroke my cock. I took this as a sign that he was THINKING about putting my cock in his mouth. I don’t really know how I knew…perhaps from his pensive manner…but I instantly understood that this was not only the first black cock he had been this close to…it was the ONLY cock he had been this close to. I was very thrilled…maybe even honored (although as I write that it seems so corny) that this middle aged man chose me to be the one with whom he stepped across the preverbal straight/gay line.
Not wanting to push…I know... I know… not like me at all… nonetheless…not wanting to push, I simply stroked the back of his neck with my left hand… he looked up into my eyes for the first time since the touching started…I smiled at him… and that seemed to be what he needed to feel that it was indeed “Okay”. Deacon looked back down at the fat head of my rock hard cock…opened his mouth as wide as he could…leaned forward and took what I am sure was his very first cock into his very warm but rather dray mouth.
As you might imagine his oral skills were non-existent! I did not care…this was about so much more for him…and consequently for me… the fact that all he could basically do is hold my cock in his mouth did not take away from the moment at all.
Deacon suckled my cock for only about a minute before he stopped and stood up again. Up to this point, I had let Deacon step through this monumental even for him at his own pace, but now it was time to rock his world a bit.
As he stood, I took the opportunity to slide my left hand down the back of his open pants. He had a nicely shaped ass that was only a little fleshy. Clearly this was a grad “A” ass a few years back. Surprisingly, he did not resist me when ran my hand along the crack of his ass…poking my finger in the crease…feeling for his pucker. When I found it, I gently spun him around so that I was completely behind him. With light pressure on his upper back, he got the message and slightly leaned forward against the wall. As he did this, I pushed his jeans and boxer shorts down below his knees…knelt behind him…spread his ass cheeks with my hands and began to eat his only slightly pungent ass.
With my fat tongue swirling around his puckered hole, Deacons body was tense and ridged. This was obviously more than he bargained for but I think he stayed with it because the good feeling was undeniable. Although I could not see them, I felt the presence of others watching us form the door. Deacon finally gave up the ghost and let out a slight moan as I pushed the tip of my tongue into his now very wet hole.
Out of curiosity, I reached up between his legs to feel his cock. It was rock hard and he instantly pulled my hand off his cock fearing that would push him over the edge and this would be over much too soon for his liking. Interestingly… when he grabbed my hand, he pulled it off his cock, but he did not let my hand go…instead he held my hand and squeezed intermittently…I took this as his way of telling me that he was …umm… having a good time?
I ate Deacon’s ass for two minutes…the third minute I was shoving all of the spit I could generate into his hole. The way I figured it…I would get only one shot at popping this “Forty Something” year old cherry before he freaked out on me.
Pulling my mouth away from his ass…standing…and aligning my cock to his puckered hole…as expected… caused Deacon to snap out of his reverie and instantly protest
Deacon: “No…No… I can’t… No”
I had a firm grip on his hips and had pinned him against the wall. He was struggling to reach his pants and pull them up but with me pinning him against the wall his pants were just out of his reach.
As calmly as I could, I said
Me: “It is Okay…I am not going to hurt you… I promise… you have come this far…look, just rock your hips back and feel the head…that’s all I want you to do is feel the head of my cock on hole”
Very cautiously Deacon pressed his ass back against my cock…He was so uptight that I was sure there was no way my fat cock was going into his hole… but that was ok with me…all I wanted at that point was for him to get that special feeling of a hard cock knocking at his back door.
Me: “Relax…relax…push out a little…like you are taking a dump…yeah...yeah…that’s it!”
To my utter surprise… he actually did what I told him to do, and the head of my cock popped through his ass ring.
Deacon: “Ahhhh…Ahhh…Ahhh…I’m cumming…I’m cumming”
Sure enough, with just the head of my cock in his ass, Deacon exploded all over the buddy window. I could see three very thick strands of white cum plastered on the glass.
As soon as Deacon shot his load, he instantly hopped off my cock. As if his consciousness came crashing back to reality…and the full weight of what he had just done settled upon him, he began to turn beat red, and he hurriedly began putting himself back together.
When he was all set to go…I stepped out of his way so that he could leave…but he did not go right away…he stood there looking down at his shoes, hands in his pockets…searching for the right words. He did not need to say anything for my benefit but I knew enough to just let him work through it on his own. I simply continued to stuff my still raging hard-on back into my jeans. After a few more silent seconds
Deacon: “Ya know that was a first for me”
Me: “Yes, I know…and I hope that you know that it does not necessarily mean anything. It does not mean that you are gay, and it certainly does not mean that you are an evil, sinful person that is going to Hell because of it. It just means that you are a normal man with very real desires…desires, which probably for the first time, you honestly accepted and allowed yourself to act upon.”
Upon hearing this, Deacon looked at me, and for the first time he smiled. He then placed his right hand on my shoulder and said:
Deacon: “Thank You Brother”
To be honest, the “Thank You Brother” comment freaked me out a bit cause the guy already looked like a church Deacon…with those three words he all but confirmed it…at least in my own mind anyway.
To Be Continued….
After about ten minutes of walking around I found the middle-aged guy again…standing in a booth stroking his cock.
I stood there in the door way for a bit not sure if I should try again or not. Myself, I hate it when you just are not into someone in a place like that but they keep trying to get you to let them suck your dick or whatever. Also, standing there in the door way, I got a much better look at the man. Yes…definitely middle aged, with some slight gray hair on the edges of his neatly trimmed hair line. Additionally, his rather conservative glasses made him look like you would expect a Deacon of the local Southern Baptist Church to look like…hence I will call him Deacon here.
As I stood there in the door, Deacon covered his cock and balls a bit with his right hand, but his left continued to slow stroke his 7.5” cut cock…all the while he kept his eyes on the monitor. He was neither inviting me in, nor shooing me away.
I stood there for another 30 seconds, not really sure if this was going to workout or not. Then I decided to step in the booth, but rather than step toward him, I slid along the wall far enough in so that I could see the monitor. When I moved, Deacon paused his stroking. Clearly, this was a man dealing with a war in his head between his desire, and his comfort level with those desires.
When I was far enough inside the booth to see the monitor…Deacon looked at me strangely… it was a worried look…like I was about to find out something. I held his eyes in mine…just as I did with the Farm Boy…letting him know that it was “OK”.
When I broke the stare and looked at the monitor, I understood completely.
On the screen was straight porn, but it was a black guy with a huge cock fucking the hell out of this little white girl who was screaming in either pain or extreme pleasure…not really sure which.
I turned back to Deacon who again looked at me with strange winkled brow that seemed to say: “now you know my secret”
I very calmly, unbuttoned my jeans, lowered my zipper and pulled out my…by now…very fat and hard black cock. Deacon watched my every move and had stopped stroking his cock, which looked like it was even harder and bigger than before.
With my cock out of my pants, I very gently reached for his right hand and brought it over to my cock. Once he had hold on my dick, I reached over and took his cock in my right hand. For the next minute or so all we did was stroke each other. Deacon seemed fascinated and would not take his eyes off my cock. He kept squeezing it and hefting it like he was trying to get an idea of its actual weight or something. It was clear that this was indeed the first black cock that he had seen up close let alone touch.
Twice during our mutual stroking he had to grab my right hand and stop me from stroking him for fear he would cum.
If you have been reading this blog then you know that I really get off on the contrast between my dark skin and the pale/pink skin of white guys…add to that…getting to see the white guy get jazzed by that same contrast for the first time…well…you can imagine how extremely sexually charged moment was.
Without saying a word, Deacon slowly sat down on the bench in the booth and continued to softly stroke my cock. I took this as a sign that he was THINKING about putting my cock in his mouth. I don’t really know how I knew…perhaps from his pensive manner…but I instantly understood that this was not only the first black cock he had been this close to…it was the ONLY cock he had been this close to. I was very thrilled…maybe even honored (although as I write that it seems so corny) that this middle aged man chose me to be the one with whom he stepped across the preverbal straight/gay line.
Not wanting to push…I know... I know… not like me at all… nonetheless…not wanting to push, I simply stroked the back of his neck with my left hand… he looked up into my eyes for the first time since the touching started…I smiled at him… and that seemed to be what he needed to feel that it was indeed “Okay”. Deacon looked back down at the fat head of my rock hard cock…opened his mouth as wide as he could…leaned forward and took what I am sure was his very first cock into his very warm but rather dray mouth.
As you might imagine his oral skills were non-existent! I did not care…this was about so much more for him…and consequently for me… the fact that all he could basically do is hold my cock in his mouth did not take away from the moment at all.
Deacon suckled my cock for only about a minute before he stopped and stood up again. Up to this point, I had let Deacon step through this monumental even for him at his own pace, but now it was time to rock his world a bit.
As he stood, I took the opportunity to slide my left hand down the back of his open pants. He had a nicely shaped ass that was only a little fleshy. Clearly this was a grad “A” ass a few years back. Surprisingly, he did not resist me when ran my hand along the crack of his ass…poking my finger in the crease…feeling for his pucker. When I found it, I gently spun him around so that I was completely behind him. With light pressure on his upper back, he got the message and slightly leaned forward against the wall. As he did this, I pushed his jeans and boxer shorts down below his knees…knelt behind him…spread his ass cheeks with my hands and began to eat his only slightly pungent ass.
With my fat tongue swirling around his puckered hole, Deacons body was tense and ridged. This was obviously more than he bargained for but I think he stayed with it because the good feeling was undeniable. Although I could not see them, I felt the presence of others watching us form the door. Deacon finally gave up the ghost and let out a slight moan as I pushed the tip of my tongue into his now very wet hole.
Out of curiosity, I reached up between his legs to feel his cock. It was rock hard and he instantly pulled my hand off his cock fearing that would push him over the edge and this would be over much too soon for his liking. Interestingly… when he grabbed my hand, he pulled it off his cock, but he did not let my hand go…instead he held my hand and squeezed intermittently…I took this as his way of telling me that he was …umm… having a good time?
I ate Deacon’s ass for two minutes…the third minute I was shoving all of the spit I could generate into his hole. The way I figured it…I would get only one shot at popping this “Forty Something” year old cherry before he freaked out on me.
Pulling my mouth away from his ass…standing…and aligning my cock to his puckered hole…as expected… caused Deacon to snap out of his reverie and instantly protest
Deacon: “No…No… I can’t… No”
I had a firm grip on his hips and had pinned him against the wall. He was struggling to reach his pants and pull them up but with me pinning him against the wall his pants were just out of his reach.
As calmly as I could, I said
Me: “It is Okay…I am not going to hurt you… I promise… you have come this far…look, just rock your hips back and feel the head…that’s all I want you to do is feel the head of my cock on hole”
Very cautiously Deacon pressed his ass back against my cock…He was so uptight that I was sure there was no way my fat cock was going into his hole… but that was ok with me…all I wanted at that point was for him to get that special feeling of a hard cock knocking at his back door.
Me: “Relax…relax…push out a little…like you are taking a dump…yeah...yeah…that’s it!”
To my utter surprise… he actually did what I told him to do, and the head of my cock popped through his ass ring.
Deacon: “Ahhhh…Ahhh…Ahhh…I’m cumming…I’m cumming”
Sure enough, with just the head of my cock in his ass, Deacon exploded all over the buddy window. I could see three very thick strands of white cum plastered on the glass.
As soon as Deacon shot his load, he instantly hopped off my cock. As if his consciousness came crashing back to reality…and the full weight of what he had just done settled upon him, he began to turn beat red, and he hurriedly began putting himself back together.
When he was all set to go…I stepped out of his way so that he could leave…but he did not go right away…he stood there looking down at his shoes, hands in his pockets…searching for the right words. He did not need to say anything for my benefit but I knew enough to just let him work through it on his own. I simply continued to stuff my still raging hard-on back into my jeans. After a few more silent seconds
Deacon: “Ya know that was a first for me”
Me: “Yes, I know…and I hope that you know that it does not necessarily mean anything. It does not mean that you are gay, and it certainly does not mean that you are an evil, sinful person that is going to Hell because of it. It just means that you are a normal man with very real desires…desires, which probably for the first time, you honestly accepted and allowed yourself to act upon.”
Upon hearing this, Deacon looked at me, and for the first time he smiled. He then placed his right hand on my shoulder and said:
Deacon: “Thank You Brother”
To be honest, the “Thank You Brother” comment freaked me out a bit cause the guy already looked like a church Deacon…with those three words he all but confirmed it…at least in my own mind anyway.
To Be Continued….
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thank You Brother
Last week I had a brief assignment to the Midwest (Iowa). Work did not leave me much time for play but I managed to squeeze some in and this is just a quick Adult Bookstore encounter.
I was actually passing through this mid-sized Midwestern city not far from where I grew up. This is only relevant because it helps explain how I knew about this place.
It is a porn video store in front, but I have never ever seen anyone going through… much less purchasing any of those Tired Video… I mean at least they could have one shelf of current, Treasure Island Media type videos… instead the shelves are lined with ridiculously over produced compilation videos,,, many of which are still in VHS format. No one ever goes there for the videos… they go there for the very large back video booth area where guys cruse each other from the time the place opens until it closes around midnight.
I paid my $10.00 to the very disinterested clerk who actually seemed a bit pissed that he had to put his sci-fi paperback book down for a minute to take my money.
Once I was buzzed into the back, I just stood there for a moment allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Soon enough I was good to go and made a quick sweep of the place to see who was there. In short… not a lot… the “pickins were slim” as they say in that part of the country.
After my quick walk through I determined that there were only two guys of interest. One was a mid-twenties 6’2” farm boy complete with the warn jeans, innocuous rock band t-shirt and a beat up green John Deere ball cap. The other potential was another 6’2” man though middle aged …late forties… with glasses, red polo shirt and standard levis jeans. Although causally dressed, the middle aged guy seemed like he was more accustomed to a suit and tie…I don’t know… I just got that vibe.
I actually approached the middle aged guy first because he was standing in his door-less booth with his 7”, medium thick and cut cock in his hand watching the little video monitor. As soon as I took a step toward him, he put up his hand…motioning that he was not interested. That was cool… I mean… I get it … we like what we like.
So I set off searching booths for the farm boy. After checking like 20 booths, I was convinced that he was gone and I had missed him… but… sure enough… in the very last booth, there he was standing with his back to the “buddy Window”, facing the door-less doorway…checking out the video monitor to his left. He had his pants open and he was trying to stroke his limp 8” uncut cock to erection.
He did not look at me right away, as he was working hard to find something in the gay fuck video on the monitor to help his cock to get hard. I am sure he knew someone was in the doorway, but it was as if he would not even consider doing anything with anyone unless he was first able to get that beautiful cock to its full erect glory.
After about 20 seconds of me standing in the door way he did look at me and we made instant eye contact. At this point he stopped frantically stroking his meat. It was totally cool…so much was communicated between us just through that 10 second stare. In that moment, his eyes seem to say “Oh… its you” (he had noticed me during my initial sweep though)…”what do you want to do…I want to play with you but I am not a bottom”. My eyes simply said “Its okay”. Before I took a step toward him, I turned my ball cap backwards. At this, farm boy close his eyes and let out a very erotic sound that was a cross between a sigh and a moan. At the same time, he leaned back against the wall with the buddy window and dropped his hands from his crotch to his side completely exposing a fast rising 8” uncut cock.
On my knees with his cock fully hard in my mouth, farm boy began to tentatively thrust his hips forward as if he was sort of asking if it was ok to fuck my mouth. In response I simply moaned, open my throat, and took him in until my nose was buried in his light brown pubic hair…with a crotch smell that… well guys… you know what I am talking about…that GREAT man crotch smell!
With a signal like that, farm boy cut loose and let himself…be himself. With a couple of “Oh…Fuck Yeahs” he was fucking my face with his rock hard cock, and his hands kept rubbing up and down my traps, delts and bicep muscles.
Within two minutes, his breathing became labored and on a down stroke…where his cock was lodged all the way into my throat…he began to cum. As he was cumming down my throat, all that kept running through my mind was…”Got Milk?” I swear I counted at least seven major spurts of his cum from his cock. Needless to say, I had been jacking my cock the whole time… and after his forth spurt of cum down my throat, I had to clamp the base of my cock, and push my finger against that spot under my balls to stop my ejaculation (Sexual Kung Fu again).
I was indeed able to experience a full orgasm without ejaculation. However, it was a very powerful orgasm and it rocked my whole body. Farm boy obviously though that I was cumming and in a very sweet gesture held still, keeping his cock lodged deep in my thoat and for about 30 seconds, tenderly rubbed my shoulders and upper back until I came down from my orgasm.
After we put ourselves back together, Farm Boy gently rubbed my chest, looked me in the eyes and said
Farm Boy: “Thank you…you are the only one in here who could even make me hard…that was great man”
Me: “No…thank you…you are a hot man!”
By this time I am ready to move on, but it is clear that Farm Boy wants to say something more and I pause…he starts to speak, but then got shy or something and just smiled… I smiled back and left the booth… As I am walking down the hall I turn and look back over my shoulder and Farm Boy is standing outside his booth staring at me…like he is trying to make up his mind about something. After a moment, he just smiles again and waves goodbye.
To Be Continued…
I was actually passing through this mid-sized Midwestern city not far from where I grew up. This is only relevant because it helps explain how I knew about this place.
It is a porn video store in front, but I have never ever seen anyone going through… much less purchasing any of those Tired Video… I mean at least they could have one shelf of current, Treasure Island Media type videos… instead the shelves are lined with ridiculously over produced compilation videos,,, many of which are still in VHS format. No one ever goes there for the videos… they go there for the very large back video booth area where guys cruse each other from the time the place opens until it closes around midnight.
I paid my $10.00 to the very disinterested clerk who actually seemed a bit pissed that he had to put his sci-fi paperback book down for a minute to take my money.
Once I was buzzed into the back, I just stood there for a moment allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Soon enough I was good to go and made a quick sweep of the place to see who was there. In short… not a lot… the “pickins were slim” as they say in that part of the country.
After my quick walk through I determined that there were only two guys of interest. One was a mid-twenties 6’2” farm boy complete with the warn jeans, innocuous rock band t-shirt and a beat up green John Deere ball cap. The other potential was another 6’2” man though middle aged …late forties… with glasses, red polo shirt and standard levis jeans. Although causally dressed, the middle aged guy seemed like he was more accustomed to a suit and tie…I don’t know… I just got that vibe.
I actually approached the middle aged guy first because he was standing in his door-less booth with his 7”, medium thick and cut cock in his hand watching the little video monitor. As soon as I took a step toward him, he put up his hand…motioning that he was not interested. That was cool… I mean… I get it … we like what we like.
So I set off searching booths for the farm boy. After checking like 20 booths, I was convinced that he was gone and I had missed him… but… sure enough… in the very last booth, there he was standing with his back to the “buddy Window”, facing the door-less doorway…checking out the video monitor to his left. He had his pants open and he was trying to stroke his limp 8” uncut cock to erection.
He did not look at me right away, as he was working hard to find something in the gay fuck video on the monitor to help his cock to get hard. I am sure he knew someone was in the doorway, but it was as if he would not even consider doing anything with anyone unless he was first able to get that beautiful cock to its full erect glory.
After about 20 seconds of me standing in the door way he did look at me and we made instant eye contact. At this point he stopped frantically stroking his meat. It was totally cool…so much was communicated between us just through that 10 second stare. In that moment, his eyes seem to say “Oh… its you” (he had noticed me during my initial sweep though)…”what do you want to do…I want to play with you but I am not a bottom”. My eyes simply said “Its okay”. Before I took a step toward him, I turned my ball cap backwards. At this, farm boy close his eyes and let out a very erotic sound that was a cross between a sigh and a moan. At the same time, he leaned back against the wall with the buddy window and dropped his hands from his crotch to his side completely exposing a fast rising 8” uncut cock.
On my knees with his cock fully hard in my mouth, farm boy began to tentatively thrust his hips forward as if he was sort of asking if it was ok to fuck my mouth. In response I simply moaned, open my throat, and took him in until my nose was buried in his light brown pubic hair…with a crotch smell that… well guys… you know what I am talking about…that GREAT man crotch smell!
With a signal like that, farm boy cut loose and let himself…be himself. With a couple of “Oh…Fuck Yeahs” he was fucking my face with his rock hard cock, and his hands kept rubbing up and down my traps, delts and bicep muscles.
Within two minutes, his breathing became labored and on a down stroke…where his cock was lodged all the way into my throat…he began to cum. As he was cumming down my throat, all that kept running through my mind was…”Got Milk?” I swear I counted at least seven major spurts of his cum from his cock. Needless to say, I had been jacking my cock the whole time… and after his forth spurt of cum down my throat, I had to clamp the base of my cock, and push my finger against that spot under my balls to stop my ejaculation (Sexual Kung Fu again).
I was indeed able to experience a full orgasm without ejaculation. However, it was a very powerful orgasm and it rocked my whole body. Farm boy obviously though that I was cumming and in a very sweet gesture held still, keeping his cock lodged deep in my thoat and for about 30 seconds, tenderly rubbed my shoulders and upper back until I came down from my orgasm.
After we put ourselves back together, Farm Boy gently rubbed my chest, looked me in the eyes and said
Farm Boy: “Thank you…you are the only one in here who could even make me hard…that was great man”
Me: “No…thank you…you are a hot man!”
By this time I am ready to move on, but it is clear that Farm Boy wants to say something more and I pause…he starts to speak, but then got shy or something and just smiled… I smiled back and left the booth… As I am walking down the hall I turn and look back over my shoulder and Farm Boy is standing outside his booth staring at me…like he is trying to make up his mind about something. After a moment, he just smiles again and waves goodbye.
To Be Continued…
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