Sunday, May 11, 2014

Archive: Partition

I met him three times but each time was so similar that I frequently blend them into one another. And then, there was of course, the problem of the glory hole.

Having not really seen the face that commandeered those beloved lips and that nimble, slick tongue means that facial hair, hair length and most importantly, changes in facial expression -- all signifiers that help me differentiate sessions -- aren't available to aid me.

But what I do remember is quite crystal clear, strung into what seems like one long session, separating us by his pseudo glory hole containing tarp with me standing in the hall and he, kneeling on all fours in the bathroom.

The second time I made sure to push my baby blue vintage Nike All-Star high tops underneath the space between the tarp and the hardwood floors, I do recall that. After I left from my first visit, he had admitted his sneaker fetish to me and I'd made a mental note to pull out my prized babes for the second meet up. While he expertly bobbed up and down my length, me feeling nothing but the warm, wet, inviting orifice at work, I felt what I thought was his hand thud onto my foot. In hindsight, it was likely the thick cock that I'd convinced him to shove back through the hole. 

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Bearing Gifts

I have this rule of sorts: We don't write about guys we are currently seeing.

It's mostly arbitrary and if I thought hard enough I could come up with a very valid reason for why it's warranted but it's just one of my rules.  And technically, I didn't break it.

When I pumped my load into that upturned, hoola-hooping ass the first time I had very little thought that this experienced, older, lithe, Hispanic bottom would be back. Yeah, I played along with the idle texts every few days but it wasn't until I was once again tongue deep, with him, knees spread and shoulder digging into the back of the living room sofa that I really realized that he was probably kinda into me.

"Aw, I missed you papi, you know how to eat that so good!" Of course the thoughts started to creep in: I have readers to satiate, appetites to whet and feed. My tongue dug a little bit deeper, swirling in his hairless pucker before pulling out and licking from taint, up through the crack. But there was the rule. I decided to push my spit slicked thumb into him to take a quick test of the waters while reaching around to check the blue and green striped pouch of his ass-less jock that was bearing more than a chubby. If I already wrote about him, what would he the harm in continuing? This was a unique circumstance.  He was still a little too tight so, I buried my tongue again, feeling him relax and open up, inviting me to probe further.

"Give me that dick," Ok, definitely have to write about this. I acquiesced, knowing he was just a touch too tight for me.

My cock didn't agree, slipping pretty quickly down and into his ass, to the root. "Ah fuck! I missed that," he moaned, turning around and kissing me.  I sat there, both hands on the small of his back, buried inside, flexing and relaxing at will.  It took him a minute before he'd gotten used to it and started that rock of his hips.