Cheater

Upstate New York—January, 2014

 

I was on the prowl at an arcade or two pretty much every day for the next week.  The bookstores were so much closer to me than at my home in the wilds of Michigan.  My job required lots of planning, but very little physical time at work.  I had lots of time to explore.

And I found enough men to keep me occupied, but I had very little sex that was not routine.  The day after I bred the tattooed twenty-something in the arcade, I could find no one to play with at all—online or at two of the arcades.  The very next day I was back in the arcade in the town I was living in and I sucked off two older men within minutes of each other.  One had huge nipples he worked constantly as I sucked his rather rubbery cock to quick completion.  The second man was hung better than average, but there was nothing about the encounter that merits any more than this single sentence.

I took a couple of days off from the arcades at the end of the week.  I trolled online and found a man out of town who wanted to sub for me.  We’d meet in the middle of next week.  I found a college student who wanted the same thing.  We’d meet the day before.

On the next Sunday I was glad to be back checking what was behind the pink doors.  A younger business man, dressed as if he’d come straight from church, wanted a blow job.  He was done in a minute.  He shot so fast I did not even have time to get hard.  A movie was playing rather loudly next door.  I waited until the spent man left, then tried the knob.  It was open.  Once again I was met by the fully naked tattooed young man.  He greeted me.  He seemed very subdued.  Or perhaps he was just sober.  We fucked.  I bred him.  He refused ass to mouth.  And he didn’t shoot.  He seemed, well, rather guilty.  I never saw him again my remaining days in New York.

The next day I found and serviced a mechanic on his lunch hour.  It was hot.  I would write about it—but he was the same man I met last year—and the scene happened once again exactly as I wrote about it here.

The next day the sub college student was online, but refused to talk to me.  No play.

The day after that the out of town sub never got on line to tell me how to find him.  I sat with a cup of coffee and was determined to find some ass on line—some ass who could host.

Eventually, I succeeded. 

He actually wrote me first.  His ad stated it was a ‘couple looking,’ but his partner was not there.  He needed to be bred.  Now.  Before the BF got home.  He gave me his address by the fourth email.  It was out of town, but not as far as I’d been planning to drive for the no-show sub.  I swung by the house, grabbed my lube put on my cock ring and took off into the hinterlands…

 

It’s hill country.  So far all the country roads have been marked.  The snow is white and pristine out here, not grey and filthy like in the city.  All the evergreens look like they are auditioning to be on Christmas cards.

There’s the turn.  It’s slightly slippery.  My car does not care much for slick roads. And there’s his mail box.  The house is set far back from the road.  The narrow drive is plowed.  I park in front of his double wide trailer in the middle of nowhere.

A dog barks inside.  A big dog.  I hear his master tell him to stop.  The front door opens as I approach.  “Go to the back door.  There’s too much ice here.”

I clomp around to the back door.  He’s there—with the dog by the collar and the door open.   He’s in his mid-forties.  He’s taller and beefier than in his pics, but in a good way.  There is more muscle on his bare chest than I could see in those pictures of him on all fours.  He is wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants.  He has a mix of tattoos on his arms and chest.

“Sit.”  That’s to the German Shepherd.  Not me.  “Come around this way.”  This is to me.  He leads me through something of a maze of clothes, boxes and Christmas decorations waiting to be packed away.  The bedroom is crowded, but there is enough room to strip to my jock and athletic socks.  My socks are soon covered with dog hair, but I don’t care.  I have a man kneeling in front me who is taking my cock to the root.  I remember from his profile pictures that his partner is hung.  He knows how to cover his teeth.  I fit so snugly in his throat.  He loves to hold me there to the point where he can’t breathe, then pull himself off of me fast.

“Get up on the bed.”

He rises, pulls off his sweat pants and gets on all fours.  I sink to my knees.  The bed’s tall.  I make him spread his legs a little until his hole is directly in front of my mouth.  I sink in deep.  He grunts.  I eat him out.  I leave lots of saliva to fuck in.  I stand up.  My cock sinks into him with no resistance.

“God, you are thick.  It feels—great.”

I hold deep in his guts.  Then do the slow pull out.  In to the root.   Out ever so slowly.

“Fuck me hard.  Rape my cunt.”

I pick up speed.  My balls slap on his ass.  The sound brings the dog to investigate.

“Get out of here,” he barks at the dog.

I lean over my man to make sure he feels every inch of my cock.  A wet nose is on my balls.  And it’s not his boyfriend’s.  “Hunter, go lie down.”  The dog stops licking my ass and ambles out of the room.

I pull out.  It’s time for the pig test.  I bring my cock around to his mouth.  There is a fractional hesitation, then he cleans it like a pro. 

“Flip over on your back.”

He does.  I pull his head over the edge of the bed and fuck his face.  I am just as deep in him this way as when I was up his ass.  I bend across him and idly play with his wet hole as I fuck his mouth.

“On your knees again.”  I’m on the other side of the bed for this fuck.  In a few moments I pull out.  My bag is right at my feet.  I see my egg headed dildo.  I pull out of his ass and fish the toy out of the bag.  I grease it up without his knowing what I’m doing.  It’s up him before he can see it.

“Wha…?” 

“Just take it.”  The toy is plugging him fully.  I pull the base down.   There is just room to add my cock.

“FU-CKKK!”  He elongates the word into two syllables.  I cut him off by pushing his head down into the blanket we are fucking on.  He grunts.  He is loving being used.  His cock, though not hard, is drooling amazing amounts of precum.  I swipe some up and feed it to him.  I fuck with the toy in place.

Eventually, I pull out.  I work the toy out and toss it on his bed.  He’s in the zone now.  He grabs it and sticks it in his mouth as I plunge back into his hole.  I fuck him while he gets the toy so deep in his throat he makes gagging sounds.

We pause and chat about fucking with his Boyfriend sometime while I’m here.  I can tell it likely won’t happen.  This is all about his hole on the down low.

“Get on your back.”  I stand and fuck him, looking down at his face twisted into a mask of pleasure and pain.  There is a large black dildo on his bureau.  I reach over and grease it up, all the while continuing my fucking into his hole.  When it’s slick, I pull out and push the thick plastic cock into him.  He knows this toy well.  He relaxes and grinds down on it.

I toss it aside after a while and put my cock back into him.

“Can you breed me soon?”

I grunt some sort of affirmative.

“I don’t know how much longer he’ll be gone.”

I pick up the pace.  I pull out, taste his hole and plunge right back in.  A few jack rabbit strokes and I am shooting.  It’s intense.  I love the look on his face as he watches me convulse over him.  I flood his guts with several days of hot load.

A brief wash and I’m back out in the cold and snow. 

I sit in my car and realize I never asked his name.  I look up at his bedroom window. He’s not there, but Hunter is, watching me start my car and pull out onto the country road as the snow starts falling again.

Young Man In a Hurry

My Playroom—March, 2013

The very next night, I welcomed another visitor to the playroom.  Antonio had been writing me on BBRT for years.  But we were separated by a huge distance—he was in the upper peninsula of Michigan, while I am close to the southern border of the state.  “I want to feel that big cock of yours,” he’d write.  “I have only been in a sling once before.  Pound your cum into me.”  I would always write something back in the same vein, thinking it was nothing more than harmless jack-off material for a gay man stranded so far away from much of any kind of gay life.

And then, in the middle of the month, he was on a road trip to Indianapolis.  He had to practically drive by my front door.  We talked a little.  He would call when he was one city away.  It worked out perfectly.  He arrived just as I finished my work day. I opened the door to a man who looked just like his pictures online.  He’s in his late thirties, short, with dark hair.  His body showed that he played hard at a lot of sports.  His jeans were tight over his full ass.  We said hello.  In no time, he was off to check his clean out after his long car trip, and I stripped off to just my jock and boots.

 

Tony emerges from the bathroom naked.  We go upstairs.  As soon as the door shuts to the playroom he is down on his knees and pulling my cock out of the well-worn jock. 

“Yes,” he all but crows.  His mouth is nice.  His tongue is active, and makes me grow hard.  It doesn’t hurt that he looks so damn cute down there on my cock.  That thought makes me rampant.  It’s suddenly harder for him to take all of me into his mouth.  He tries valiantly.  After a hit of poppers, he takes me to the root again.

I pull him up.  We kiss briefly, but it’s not his thing.  Damn.  I kneel and taste his cock briefly, then just turn him around.  The full butt is right in my face.  I touch the small of his back and he eagerly bends over, supported by the bed.  My mouth finds his hole.  He is literally fresh from the shower, tasting of my own Dial.  He opens, but it’s a hole that seems like he hasn’t played with a lot of big cock.  I push with my tongue, then pull the tight ring apart with my fingertips.   He crawls up on the bed.  His fingers are splayed against the wall, his knuckles white. 

“Take a hit,” I tell him, tossing him the poppers from where he left them on the floor.  He huffs.  And I work just the head of my cock into him.  I stop, pull out and tongue him again.  Then another hit as instructed and I work in the head again, and maybe an inch more.  I pull out and eat some more.  Then repeat until I finally glide in.

“Fuck, yes.”  Tony pushes back, grinding onto me.  “I wanted this so much.”

We fuck in silence, the room filling with the smack of my hips against his full ass. 

“Can we fuck in the sling?”  He’s a young man in a hurry.

I pull out and get him onto the broad expanse of leather.  His legs are now cradled in the stirrups.  I slip back into him easily.  His hole has expanded nicely to accommodate me.  Actually, with each never ending hit of poppers, I feel him relax so, that his hole now feels loose around my cock.  I fuck slowly.  Then accelerate.

If the bottle is not to his nose, he is twisting his right nipple with his left hand and beating his medium sized cock with his right.  I know he’s going to shoot fast.  I pull out and grab the egg-headed dildo from the bureau.  I grease it and twist it into him.  There is moment of hesitation as the width of the head stretches him—then it pops home.  He grunts and poppers up.  I twist it once, push it down with my left hand and slip my cock in alongside the toy.

“Ohhhhhhhhh.”  His hand is working furiously on his cock.  He pauses for a hit, then goes back to jerking.  I am fucking along the ribbed edge of the dildo, filling him with more width than he’s ever likely had.  In moments, his hand brings him off in a huge gooey mess.

I slow. 

“Cum in me!”

I pull out, and then the dildo.  I am back in and pumping hard. 

I surprise myself by erupting into him almost at once.   

“Breed me,” he moans as his hand plays in the puddle of his cum.

I pull out quickly, knowing that he’s more than done.

I hand him a towel.  He swings out of the sling, and dries himself down.

He finds his clothes in the bathroom and is almost dressed by the time I collect the towels and head down the stairs.

Tony tells he had a great time and is soon back in his car and headed south.

I look at the clock on the bookcase and smile.  He spent a longer time in the bathroom getting ready than we spent in the playroom. 

My cock spits out one last pearl of cum.  My dick doesn’t seem to mind at all.

The Men of Memphis

I arrived in Memphis on my business trip at Midnight. I could not play at all that night. And I was in a bad mood for the stupidity that made me fly at night instead of my usual day travel--and an afternoon and evening to play before my very heavy work schedule. So on Friday, at my dinner break, I got on line to see if I could start to find any late night play after my evening set of meetings. There were all sorts of cocksuckers (with no pictures) wanting to do me instantly. But no ass to be found.  Then:

　
BigO: Hello How are you? You are way to "Nasty" for this city....LOVE IT!!!

FP: I think that's true....I am just a visitor...

BigO: Allow me to tell you right now before you get your hopes up...These people are too far in the back woods for higher beings like us....lol

He looks good in his leather in his pictures. This looks promising!

FP: I have to come here every year. I find a couple guys---but nothing like in other cities.

BigO: I know. I come here from time to time as well...I'm in the downtown area near the baseball field. this city is boring... (I later learn he lives here.)

FP: Has unlocked his private pictures.

FP: I think we are close---downtown, too. I am about to do round two of my conference....hoping for some late night fun.

BigO: Maybe you'd like to play later on tonight? I can walk to you or you can walk to me. Up to you.

FP: I would...I'm at the XXX (name of hotel). Not likely done until eleven tonight.

BigO: Yep...there are a few rules though...I'm not into scat. no cams of any kind an a large amout of pain... other than thoes things I'm cool if the mood is right.

FP: No shit play here.....I love a hole so cleaned out I can eat it before during and after. No pain either…

BigO: what about cams?

FP: sorry---sure no cams is fine.

FP: I have to run now.....I should be able to check in before playtime.

BigO: what do you like to get into?

BigO: you and I will get along nicely...Wait until you see my shaved head. Smooth from head to toe. & like long sessions.

I go to work. And he’s on when I get back and am ready for play. Hooray!

FP: Hey---You still up for it?

BigO: Sure. Do you have gps on your phone? Most do...This is my address...XXXs 4th street....Meet me halfway. meet in person, then take it from there. What do you say?

FP: I don't have gps, but I can figure that out. I'd be walking. is that South 4^th?

BigO: XXX s 4th street I'd meet you there in person if we like what we see then great if not...It was just a walk in the park.... Agreed?

FP: right. I will be coming down 2nd...

BigO: walk to union then make right towards the baseball field. (the wrong way.)FP: That's almost a mile....I better get going…

BigO: Take your time... oh yeah, bring everything you need to make this session fun. lube, spit , toys, etc etc. give me a name...what will you have on?

FP: XXX (my first name), green jacket--black jeans, boots. I don't have much with me other than poppers and lube.

FP: I’m leaving now....

I start down the street. I am suddenly cursing myself for this odd meeting. Just as fast, I look on the positive side. It’s a nice night, and it’s kind of hot to be looking at every man I meet as the possible guy.

Except no one is out. There is one man, far too young, but no one else for the first five blocks. The a lot of drunk straight couples. I get to the supposed turning. I see the stadium in the opposite direction from what he’d said. I turn correctly. His street is the next block--it only goes right. So I turn right. The numbers are all wrong. I go back. The street does go the other way, but the street has a bizarre jog to fit around the stadium. I go in that direction. His number is a condo--not the hotel he implied.

And no one is anywhere. A vacant lobby. I don’t have a phone number. I’ve walked the entire way. So much for that sexy meet on the street. I wait a little. Then decide to head back to my hotel. Cursing myself.
And he’s never online again my entire trip.

On Saturday I get online again at dinner. This time I’m approached by a decent looking top who wants me to fuck his hot boy. I explain about my late night. That’s actually better, I’m told. He gives me a phone number. I promise to give him a head’s up text as my last interview is winding down.

He then goes on to tell me all the things we’ll do to the boy. Oops. First warning sign.

I keep my promise. I text him. Nothing.

I get online after I’m back in the room. He’s online. He tells me the boy just arrived.

Then silence.

Never online again.

Oh, I forgot. There was one other guy who wanted to get fucked---until he found out I was two miles away. “TWO MILES!!” he screamed at me.

I did have sex in Memphis. With another visitor--who could not find anyone local to play with in the entire city. But that’s a story for the next entry.
　.