Hey, guys. Here are two stories you might enjoy. I'm basically a pretty vanilla guy, no unusual cravings. But once in a long while I find myself in a situation that's off the beaten path. Here are two experiences I'm still thinking about.
Hope you enjoy reading.
I. Come and Blow
Night. Alone in the apartment. Unbearably horny. So I found an ad in Craigslist--I almost never do this. A guy two blocks away wanted a 'cum and go' situation. Not my scene, but I was at the edge. Almost over the edge. My penis was driving me crazy. Damn thing wouldn't let me sleep, wouldn't let me work, almost wouldn't let me think. Or took over my thinking.
So, at 1 AM, I found myself venturing out onto the city streets. They were not quite deserted-I live downtown. But sparse. And of course no chance of encountering an acquaintance. The address was a new building. I noticed the uniformed guard at the door-not a doorman, thankfully, so I didn't have to have a brief and awkward conversation. I just entered the passcode I had been given . The apartment was on the first floor, and the door was slightly ajar. I pushed and entered.
He was on the floor, kneeling. Blindfolded, with his tongue sticking out and waggling. I closed the door, unzipped and got in his mouth. Whew!
The warmth and wetness greeted my shaft like a cool drink of water on a hot day. He was a great cocksucker. Took my 7" in one gulp, and bobbed on it, long sensual strokes, for five minutes straight. He made little whimpering noises, counterpoint to my grunts of pleasure. Just when I was getting close, he switched to slobbering his tongue round and round the head, then sucking the head and a bit more, all the hottest spots at one time.
I blew a load down his throat in less than ten minutes.
I'm the type who likes it more than once. So I pulled out, thought I'd play with him for a while. He was not bad looking, nice muscles under just a bit of flab. Thirty-ish, with dirty blond hair and clean-shaven. He was blindfolded (remember?) so at one point he said, "Where are you?" and groped for me. But he had good body sense. When my hand came back in contact with him, he was re-oriented in a minute.
My hand was at his groin. He was wearing a bathrobe and boxer briefs. I had thought to grope him in return, maybe return the blow job. I like mutuality. But my hand did not encounter a hard cock. Nor a soft cock, nor ample balls.
It encountered a stiff flat band of heavy fabric. He was bound up, inaccessible. "What are you doing?" he asked, a bit impatient. His impatience matched my disappointment.
He explained, "I'm locked up. My boyfriend left me like this." Oh. Boyfriend. Who might be coming through the door any minute. With some sick idea of vengeance. Entrapment. And maybe a weapon. My rational mind saw the headlines, listened for a key in the lock, set my body on edge.
But, as usual, my penis won out. I wanted more. Or rather, it wanted more. Still hard, and somehow excited at a bit of danger, it shoved itself back in his mouth.
He took it greedily, excited. Took me deep, then the tip, then licked the underside down to the balls. Once in a while, he'd stop and let me stroke his mouth, skull-fucking him. He loved his work, and we found ways to work together. It took me longer this time, with the edge off my lust. And with my rutting lower instincts at war with my conscious mind, telling me to get the hell out while the getting was good.
But we know by now who wins that battle. He stayed on my cock for more than 20 minutes. It seemed like two minutes for my cock, and 2 hours for my reasonable mind. I came hard, pumping 7 or 8 ropes of cum in his mouth, which he swallowed
Normally, when I'm in that mood, I can go a time or two more, no problem. But once my cock had subsided, the danger signals came back. Boyfriend. Kinky tastes. What would he do to a guy poaching on his land? And who knows how big he is. Or what he's carrying by way of weapons? Maybe this is a setup.
So I talked to Mr. Happy a bit: Down boy. you got yours. Twice. Now let's get the fuck outta here.
So I did. Back through the dark streets, back past the few passers-by. Home again, with that craving satisfied for a while. But not an encounter I'd care to repeat.
II. A Shaft of Sunlight
Superhorned. Sunny Sunday afternoon. Alone in the apartment. So my thoughts turned to Craig's List. This time I found a traveler, alone in a small hotel, 10 minutes walk from my place. We exchanged a few emails, established what we both want, and I walked over.
Penis at the helm, of course.
I found the hotel. No anonymity here. Small place, front desk staffed. I was a little nervous. Are visitors allowed? Discouraged? Noticed? I simply nodded to the clerks, and took the elevator.
The deal was that the door would be open, that I would come, blow a load, and leave. But the door was locked. I checked the number. Not much room for error-just a few doors on each floor. So I knocked, then found the buzzer and rang.
He opened the door and stood to the side, watching me come in. He explained he had been waiting in bed. He thought I could just push the door open, but it had latched. Big hairy guy, a few dozen extra pounds. But nice shape all the same.
He got right back in bed. I looked around. It was a small suite. Tiny kitchen area. I went to wash my hands, but really to check out the bathroom to make sure that no one else was there. The coast was clear, so I went back out. He had drawn the heavy window shades against the daylight. Gloomy inside, with shafts of sun eerily filtering in through the spaces between shades.
Like his erotic needs were blotting out the rest of the world. No: like he had to hide his needs from the rest of the world, keep them in darkness even in this sunlit afternoon.
I got undressed and got on the bed, and he hungrily devoured me. Took me way down to the balls and sucked eagerly on my cock. More than eager. Ravenous. Like a starved man on a thick steak.
In his urgency, he had put me too close to the wall. He was on his back, his head near the wall, with my legs straddling his head as he slurped on my cock. So my forehead kept banging the wall, and I had to steady myself with my hands. Awkward. But we both needed this too much to stop and assume a more graceful position.
At some point, though, he moved further down, freeing my arms-and my hips. I worked with him, fucking his face as he sucked on my cock. He was moaning, my cock lodged in his throat. But he wanted more. He was able to stick his tongue out, with me balls deep, and actually lick my balls while his mouth massaged my shaft.
That got me off. I came copiously, and he gulped down every drop. I turned around and grabbed his hard cock. He was big and thick. And uncut. And dripping like crazy. I brushed him dry and started sucking his cock. He erupted after what seemed like a few seconds. I pulled off-I don't like cum-and mopped up. He had shot copiously, 3-4 feet into the air. I commented on this to him. "I'm always like that," he replied, shyly but proudly.
I took the occasion to draw him out a bit, to bring some emotional light into that dark room. I praised his cock, and again marveled at his load. That opened the path to conversation. He's a family man, from the South. I imagined two kids, two cars in a carport, a tidy house, church services on Sunday. Incredibly longings and incredible guilt. Quick hot couplings when away from home, maybe one or two friends with benefits. And loads and loads of guilt.
All this I knew from just a few sentences. And from the heavily drawn window shades. We lay there in afterglow, the shafts of sunlight moving a bit with the passing of the hour. My hand was caressing his huge cock and balls, still damp and still soft. This of course turned me on, and as soon as he felt my stiffness he was on me again. Declined the offer of a fuck, but sucked me off a second time, just as expertly and just as greedily. We both took our time with this climax. He wasn't hard, but was just as eager as when he was.
We didn't have much conversation after that. Lay on the bed while I came down off the mountain. I gave him my email, and offered my services when he's around next. He said he'd be in town again from time to time. To date, nothing. And I don't expect much.
But I felt like our conversation was like a shaft of sunlight in his carefully darkened life. A sharing of thoughts he dared not share, even with furtive sex partners, even in distant cities, even in darkened rooms. His world, I imagine, was full of darkness. Of hiding. Of guilt. Of judgement. I was glad to relieve him of some of this.
He smiled at me as we parted. I was thankful to be back in the sunlight as I slowly and pensively walked home.