Saturday, April 12, 2014

Churned

Memphis—February, 2014

My last night in Memphis was with another out of towner.  Guys in Memphis must not have sex on week nights.  The guy who contacted me didn’t beat around the bush.  He said something about wanting me in him—a size he swore he’d never had.  I gave him the late night hour I could play.  It didn’t faze him at all.  He was knocking at my door on the stroke of 11:00pm.


I watch him strip.  I am already naked, but for athletic socks and a metal cock ring.  He’s under 40, with sandy hair that sticks out every which way—like we’ve already had vigorous sex.  He’s visiting Memphis from New England.  His sun starved body is as white as my own.  But there’s a lot more of it.  He’s not fat, but he is beginning to carry more weight than he likely wants.  His full, hairless ass is spot lit from the light I’ve left on in the bathroom as he steps out of his jeans.  When he turns toward me, he’s hard with a dollop of precum on his piss slit.  He fingers it off and brings it up to his mouth. 

I smile.

He grins and gets on his knees in front of me.  He takes me to the root in one easy gulp.  He’s obviously a cocksucker.  And a good one.  He grunts in pleasure as I start to fuck his face.  I do one particularly deep thrust.  He gags.  I pull back, but the sound has made his cock drip steadily.  I fuck his face some more.  Every four strokes or so I go deep.  I bring up long strands of the thick spittle from deep in his throat.  When I have one that clings to my cock, I tell him to get up on the bed on all fours.

“Just go easy on my ass.  I don’t get fucked very often.”

As soon as he’s in place, I run my sopping cock down the crack of his ass.  With it good and wet—I kneel and make it wetter.  I poke the thick spittle into him.  He’s huffing poppers now.  Some nasty, cheap brand by the smell of it.  I prod him a little more with my tongue.

I’m up and working my cock against his hole.  There is not nearly the resistance I expect.  I can work my big head in fairly easily.  Suddenly, his canal opens and I go in with a rush.  My pubes are brushing against his smooth ass cheeks.  He grunts, as do I.  I hold until he takes another massive hit of poppers.  I begin to fuck him in earnest. 

It’s not even six minutes before his ass is clamping down on my cock.  He’s shooting, I just know it.  I will myself to cum---but it’s far too soon.  I slow—and pull out of him. 

“Sorry.  I made a mess.”  He rolls onto his back.  There is a huge load on the sheet under him.  “You didn’t have to stop.”

“Really?”  My hand scoops up most of his load.  I apply it to my dick.

‘Let me ride you,” he suggests.  I’m fine with him being in charge.  I lie down on the cool sheet.  He straddles me and lowers himself until we hit rock bottom again.  He starts impaling himself on my sperm covered dick.

I am enjoying him doing the work.  The slickness of his hole is great.  I am churning his sperm on every stroke.  “You want this Daddy load?”

He slows.  “I usually play safe when I bottom.”

“You were on BBRT…”

“I play bare when I top and slip on a raincoat when I bottom.  But I wanted to take you no matter what.”  His hand is all over the dick which has spurt so recently.  His ass tightens again.  In moments, he splatters another load across my chest.  “Damn,” he groans.  He slows—then raises himself so my cock falls out of his ass.  “I don’t think I can take any more.  His hole, what I can see of it, is covered in his now frothy cum. 

I roll out from under him.  “Get on all fours, again.”

“I don’t think…” he starts. 

I kneel and bury my face in his cummy hole.  My hand mops up the cum that is still clinging to my chest.  I wipe it down the crack of his ass.

“That’s so hot…” he starts, I am working my dick in my fist at top speed.  I’m sure he’s going to tell me at any minute that he’s done.  I swallow some of the churned cum.  It’s all that I need.  I stand up and shoot over his ass.  He reaches back, maybe afraid I’ll put it up his ass—or maybe he wants to taste it.  His dripping hand goes to his mouth.  He makes a contented sound in the back of his throat…

*****
I am home in Michigan the next morning.

Memphis came through this year, I think, as I scrape my car free of snow. 

My cock is tired and happy.

4 comments:

  1. thanks for this entry -- I always enjoy reading of your escapdes. And I'm grateful to Rob (The Breeder) for introducing me to your blog. You two are my favorite bloggers and never fail to bring a smile to my face (at least!).

    Paul, NYC

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    1. I am glad you enjoyed it. And, of course, I think your taste is impeccable. I just hope I can occasionally make your cock stir....

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  2. So glad you enjoyed Memphis. My, you do get around. So many lucky cities. You should tour the Midwest some time and include Minneapolis! Thanks for sharing. - Uptonking from Wonderland Burlesque

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    1. I do travel a lot--but usually in the winter months. Maybe that's why I've never braved Minneapolis...

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