Friday, March 28, 2014


Memphis—February, 2014

I was out of New York by the end of January.  I missed most of the snow on the drive home, hitting just a little in the Erie, Pennsylvania area.  As it got worse, I got a motel on the outskirts of Cleveland.  The snowfall didn’t stop me from driving to the bathhouse.  I needed a few hours to unwind—to get rid of the tightness between my shoulder blades from clutching the wheel— by sitting in the sauna.  The snow did keep many men away that night.  I fucked a distinguished looking man in the sling.  A young man watched.  After much coaxing, I got him to tag team the ass in the sling with me.  We both shot in him.  And that’s about all I have to report about that…
I made it home safely the next day. 

Just in time to start a series of business trips.
Memphis was up first.  I have had spotty success in that town.  This year I did better—but I was hampered by how late I had to play each night.  Before I left Michigan, a piss enthusiast in Memphis told me how dry the city was—and how hot it was that I could piss hard.  I was to text him the moment I arrived at the hotel.  I did.  Naturally, I heard nothing from him the entire long weekend.

I had a weather delay in my flight.  It cut into the one day I could have played at a more normal hour.  I ate dinner and got on line.  Lots of chatter—but nothing that was going to pan out.  (“No, I don’t have a car to drive two hours into Mississippi…”)  Early in in my chatting, I had spoken with a man who showed off his beautiful ass in his only profile picture.  He’d told me he had five men coming over to his motel to use his hole.  Then he was gone, before I could answer his query if I’d like to join them.
An hour wasted.

Then the hot assed man was back.  None of the men had shown up.  We commiserated.  He was from out of town as well.  We talked more.  He had a portable gloryhole set up.  The hook up site said we had to be pretty close.  It turned out to be the same hotel.  The same floor.  Really.  I put on a jock, jeans and got back into my boots, heading to his blacked out room.

 I turn at the elevator, to enter the other wing of the hotel.  His door is ajar, just as he said it would be.  I go in.  Pitch black.  His room is the same floor plan as mine.  The bathroom is immediately to the left.  A single ray of light is coming from the hole in the sheet he has secured to the bathroom door frame.  It’s a big hole.  I make as much sound as I can undoing my belt and shoving my jeans down to my knees.  My jock is obscenely distended.  I wonder if he can see it.  I knead my bulge and say “You want some cock to suck.”
“Yes,” he hisses.  “And in my ass once it’s good and wet.”

I yank the pouch to the side and let my cock swing free.  I stick it through the hole.  I fight down a slight moment of panic about what will greet it.  It’s a warm mouth.  Really wet.  And an easy, painless deepthroater. 
I hear him take a hit of poppers, never letting my cock out of his mouth.  He increases speed when the vapor hits.  I let him do whatever he wants…then tell him to lick my balls.  I’ve said the right thing, from all his moans, as hefts the hairy orbs into his mouth.  I reach in and jerk lazily as he slobbers on my nuts.  I lift my cock up.  He licks my hairy perineum, stopping just short of my hole.  I let go and let him get back to deep throating my cock.

“You want this cock up your ass?”
He answers with a grunt.  I can hear him stand up.  He turns and presents his ass; the hole in the sheet is big enough to frame it nicely.  I kneel and find his hole with my tongue.  He grunts.  Surprised.  I hear the poppers come out again.

“Eat my hole.  That’s so hot.”
I dig deeper.  He opens up nicely.  He’s more than ready for my cock.  I stand.  My wet cockhead presses into him.  He grunts again.  I can smell the poppers.  I wonder if I’ve made him spill some by thrusting mid-sniff.  I haven’t cum for four or five days.  I really need to unload.  But I want to taste his hole once more—taste what my cock has done to it.  I pull out. 

Fuck!  He’s not anywhere near as prepped as he told me he was….
The heat of the moment plummets.  A soapy wash cloth is passed back and forth.   I clean well enough for him to suck me again.  I have to jerk back to some hardness before it disappears back into the hole.  He sucks with fervor to make up for the misstep. 

I will myself to cum.
I give him that five day load.  Spurt after spurt.  But not where I wanted to give it to him.

I do myself back up and leave into the brightly lit corridor, never having seen anything but his hand as it passed me the towel through the homemade gloryhole.

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