Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Tossing the Salad

I had a few more adventures in December.  I use the term ‘adventure’ pretty loosely for four of them rather fizzled.

I have already mentioned in passing the distinguished looking man who took me to fuck his girlfriend.  It wasn’t until we were on the steps to their room did he tell me that he and I couldn’t indulge in any bisexual play in front of her.  I was glad to finally get to DP a woman, but the entire affair lacked heat.  And I didn’t cum.  I lost count of how many times I got her off, but once my former cock sucker got off all over her thigh, I excused myself gracefully and hit the road.


I didn’t play again until my birthday.   I hoped that would be a day where I might have some good karma in the closest bookstore.  Well, not really, as it turned out.  It was so bad that night that I have no notes at all about what I did.


Christmas.  I was back in the Saginaw Bay area of Michigan.  I went back to the bookstore where I had played at Thanksgiving with the hot, hot man I had fucked years before, but who wasn’t prepared to take it again that day.  I whipped out my dick.  It was sucked by a couple of guys—one in particular who kept twisting it—as if his unscrewing it from my body would turn me on.  I’m sure I sucked some dick, too, but it was a pretty abysmal visit.  I didn’t cum—and my dick hurt!


Cam, who often throws motel parties in my area, invited me to come fuck a new bottom at his home.  I went.  The bottom seemed nice enough.  To my surprise, there were other men there—including a man with whom I have to do business.  Even after all this time, that kind of surprise can freak me out.  And it did.  I let this business associate suck me for a bit, and then I bolted.
Blue balled for the fourth time.


So just before New Year’s Eve, I went back to Northwest Indiana to do some clean up at the job site where I’d been in October and November.  I made sure that I had the afternoon off so I could visit the bookstore furnished with all those couches again.

And it was horrid.  It was a totally different crop of men—all afraid to play in front of me (or, after I hauled out my dick, to do more than jack me.)  But, as often happens in these situations, the arrival of one man changed everything…

Northwest Indiana--December, 2015

I am stroking in the corner watching pretty average porn.  I am recovering from having to ask a man to stop his hand job of me.  His calloused hands—and tight grip—felt like he was shredding my cock.  I add extra lube and stroke carefully.

The curtained entrance from the retail area moves.   Every head turns to size up the new man.  I like what I see.  He’s likely around my age or slightly younger.  He’s second generation Greek:  olive skin, a full head of salt and pepper hair, that large nose that makes my cock drool, an Eastern Orthodox gold cross dangles from a chain into a forest of chest hair.

And he wants me.  

He walks directly to my chair, kneels and takes me into his mouth.  He groans.  I groan.  His mouth is perfect.  He gives me exquisite head—only pulling off me once to say “I love your cock.”

And two men having sex has ignited the rest of the room.  Blow jobs are taking place in various corners.  Four other hands are all over me, caressing my chest, the stubble on my head, and my balls.
My cocksucker occasionally kneads his own crotch, but I have yet to see his dick.  Without pulling out of his mouth, I stand up, making the other guys back off.  I make a show of driving my dick into the hot Greek’s mouth.  He takes me with ease—with delight, actually. 

I sit back down.

He stands to give his knees a moment off the hard tile.  I reach over and unzip his corduroys.  He helps free a nice thick, uncut beauty of a cock.  I lean forward and suck him.  I need to sink to my knees, to get the right angle.  I actually love looking up at this virile daddy—whose wedding ringed hand is guiding my head down the length of his dick.

He finally pulls me off him.  I get up.  He leans in, his meaty, thick fingered hands grasping my butt cheeks.  “Give me this ass of yours,” he whispers in my ear.

I shake my head.  “I don’t get fucked.”

“I don’t want to fuck it with my dick—I want to tongue fuck it.”

I hesitate.  He grabs the waistband of my pants and pulls them down.  And the boxer briefs.  He turns me around and just looks at my hairy butt.  “Damn,” he says in my ear.  “I can’t wait to taste that ass.”

My cock is dripping.  I don’t know if I have ever had a married man eat my hole out.  But this guy is all but licking his lips. 

“Sit down again.”  I do, in the same chair.  I sit on the edge, shuck off my pants and lean back--my legs going up in the air.  He’s right there.  Inhaling my sweaty crack.  I close my eyes and wait for the first prod of his tongue.  And there it is.  We both groan simultaneously.  Guys come watch us.  Two men hold my legs aloft, rolling me back farther on the seat of the chair so he has better access.

He is doing everything right.  I am rock hard and stroking as I am prodded and licked and drilled by his tongue.

We only stop when his knees give out and I need to get some blood back in my feet.  We stand.  We kiss.  We hold on to each other.

“I want to eat you out until you shoot.”

“Let’s go to the long couch,” I suggest.  I have him lie down on it.  I am able to rest my thighs on the arm of the sofa and to totally smother his face with wet, hairy ass.   He drills deeper yet.  He is jerking now.  I am pretty sure he’ll finish before I do.

One of my leg holders comes over.  His cock is sticking out of his pants.  I bend and take him in my mouth.   This presses my ass down tighter on the Greek.  He moans again.   A man tries to suck him, but the Greek bats him away and goes back to rimming and stroking.

I get the holder’s load down my throat.  I stand up and allow the Greek to breathe a little easier.  “Do you like to be rimmed as much as you like eating it?” I ask.

He looks at me in wonder.  Has no one ever offered to burrow into his butt?

“Do you like to rim?”  There is definitely a hint of incredulity in his voice.  I tell him to get on his knees and lean over the back of the couch.  He removes his pants and boxers.  His ass is a mass of dark, tight curls.  I can’t wait to bury my face there. 

So I don’t wait.  It’s his turn to groan.  And he starts calling me names, telling me to eat him out, telling me how good it feels.  A man comes by and tries to stick his dick in the Greek’s mouth.  He refuses it and continues to beat his cock—the foreskin revealing and covering his crimson dick head.
He finally stops me with “I need to eat you again.”

He eats me on all fours, in the same position he was just in.

He eats me sitting on his face again.

But he loves my long legs in the air with me on my back.

“This will make me cum,” he tells me as he kneels again.

“Just let me know and I’ll swallow your load.”

“You want it?” 

I nod and offer my ass to his tongue.

He eats me with abandon.  His 5 o’clock shadow is actually beginning to chafe—but I can tell he’s close.  After one last deep tonguing, he mutters “Shit!” and stands up.  I roll forward, my mouth going right for his dick.  He squirts out a terrific load.  I take the first two spurts before I start shooting as well. 

We hug. 

He actually kisses me, unafraid of the remnants of his semen in my mouth.


  1. Eting ass, taking loads, all that is great, but then a real connection comes along and that's priceless! thanks, as always for letting us see the world from you POV

    Paul, NYC

    1. He told me enough about himself that it's shame he can't become a regular--he really needs an outlet for his desires--but the distance is too great.

  2. What a great session! Thanks for sharing.