Traveling for work has some perks - including from time to time having time on my hands in a hotel room. I was doing work in my hotel late last week, but was crazy horny and put a CL ad up inviting guys to swing by for unreciprocated head. The response was pretty amazing.
Guy 1 showed up about 35 minutes from the moment I hit post. He listed himself as 40, 5'7", 140# 7c, and married. Within three email messages, we were good to go and he was on his way. He arrived looking a little more than 40, but his physical stats were spot on. In a blue collar trade t-shirt, and work boots, it was clear he was done for the day and ready to go home. Without bothering to remove his sunglasses, he sat in the guest chair in the room, dropped his jeans and boxers, and presented me with his cock to service. His crotch was sweaty, his cock got hard in a hurry, and he shot his load in under 3 minutes. The taste was a little pungent, but nothing gross.
All in all, a really good afternoon - the Craigslist Gods smiled upon me.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
I was visiting a part of the country not known for being a haven for LGBT travelers. Logging into Scruff and Grindr, it became evident that even the locals aren't all that active. But, as OTC, I was going to be a hot commodity among the locals. Within minutes, I had several contestants for that evenings episode of "Where and how do my balls get emptied?"
One contenstant in particular got my attention. 6'4", he was tall, and we've established I like guys who are at varying ends of the height extreme. He was clearly attatched to the local military base - his messages, his photos - all reeked of someone who was used to saying "Sir" a lot.
...and then he asked, "How do you feel about fisting?"
Now, we've previously covered - I'm completely fine with playing along with other's desires to have a paw up their ass. My ass? Not so much. He wanted both:
"It would be hot once you've stretched me open to throw you down and put my fist in your hairy hole, SIR."
Points to him for having the gumption to suggest it, but there is NO way I'm interested. More than 2 fingers and I'm wondering what's in it for me - if I'm not getting cock and seed, it seems like a waste of effort to clean up. After some back and forth, he agreed that it could be one directional. Truth be told, I think he's a big ol' bottom who just hasn't embraced it. He needed time to clean up, so we had some back and forth while he got ready.
During the back and forth, he asked if I wanted him face down, ass up when I got there. Yes.
Do I want him wearing his cowboy boots? Yes.
New or old boots? Old.
These questions led me to believe that having someone come over to fist him was actually a special event - which was kind of cool. I like to be memorable and special....it brings out the artist in me. (Yes, I just referenced Mrs. Devereaux in this blog.)
I got to his apartment and made my way to his bedroom. He was definitely a true cowboy. And there he was, ass in the air. 6'4" of man, he was solidly built. Maybe a little bit of cushion - - - maybe. I took note of the Crisco and glove on the dresser as I approached his beefy ass. A decent coating of hair adorned his meaty globes, and I dove in face first. His hole was surprisingly small - had I not known that he likes a fist up his ass, I never would have guessed. His ass started to open ever so slightly at the presence of my tongue. He moaned. He bucked back. It clearly did the trick, as his cock spang to life.
He started to beg, "Please, SIR, please. I need your fist."
Who am I to make a man beg? Ha. I kept eating his ass.
"Please. Please. Please." It was as if he thought I would actually leave without fisting him.
I grabbed the Crisco and glove. A liberal coating of Crisco on both his hole and my hand, and he slowly allowed me to enter him. Amazingly his ass opened, never losing tightness against whatever I chose - 3 fingers, my fist, back to 3. I marveled at this as my fist went inside, past the second ring, and my wrist disappeared too. He took my fist for a good 10 minutes before I felt his hole spasm. Below him on the bed, a large puddle formed. He had achieved a pretty impressive orgasm from my fist. Going for broke, I decided to go full throttle. He took another 20 minutes of pounding and shot again.
It was my turn. I told him to go clean up the Crisco (I hate fucking in Crisco. Makes me hungry for cookies!) so that I could fuck him. Quickly he scampered off, and came back, went back face down. I didn't bother with lube beyond just a little spit, and I was glad - he was still pretty slick. SOMEHOW his hole was tight against my cock, and his pushing back against me was a nice touch. I hadn't shot in 48 hours, and quickly lost it in about 10 minutes of pumping.
And with that, I pushed against his second hole, and shot my load deep in his guts.
I instructed him to stay face down until he heard his door close behind me. He obeyed, and sent me a note later:
"When can I have more, SIR?"
The next time I'm there, most definitely.
As I said to a friend, "Sometimes, you just need to shove your fist up someone's ass."