They wear big soc...Oh you've already heard this one? Anyway, this is lower half of the guy who appears in yesterday's pic.
So Sunday. C didn't come through. Not a big surprise. At least this time it wasn't a no-call, no-show. His shift didn't end until after 9p-10p or so and he had to be right back up at 4a. I understood. I was actually with a massage client when I was texting back and forth. The people who use my services would be appalled to know this, but when they're lying on their stomachs and I'm working on their feet, I sometimes text and view online messages with my phone. Yeah. I'm that guy. I may have mentioned this previously.
So I'm with the client, sucking his toes (just to free up both my hands to text) and he's going wild. During the session, I'm wondering how I'm going to manage pleasuring the client yet saving myself for the body I really want to be playing around with. Note: This particular client loves to play the part of a feral animal and chew on my body...while growling. It's actually hot, though. In fact, one night while getting eaten alive, I partially conceived of a porn entitled Eroticatessen. The premise is that hot, wealthy gay men have this exclusive, restaurant-themed sex club at their debaucherous command. Upon entry, a formal host seats the gentleman (or group) at a plush, semi-circular, quasi-private booth and informs the guest that his server will be along shortly with the menu. This is where the fun begins; the menu features excellent, fanciful descriptions of the boys' meats: raw, curry yogurt-filled tikka on a bed of lavendar prepared to order, served with a spoon for scooping (Indian fucked and filled just before being sent out with a pussy hole dripping mad cum); spicy, triple-glazed chourico with natural skin (uncut, bukkakied Braziliano); green, pungent meat(y) balls filled with creme fraiche (18 year old, musky skater with low-hangers full of ball juice); and also double-stuffed flank (2 guys DPing another), dick gyro (cock in a pita) and the quatro cazzi formaggio dessert tray (four uncut Italians with head cheese). Hey, something for everyone.
But I totally fucking digress.
Rewind to Sunday's massage/suck/bite session and then fast-forward to realizing that a) the roomie was using the car and wouldn't be back anytime soon and b) C just wasn't going to be able to fill me with TWELVE DAYS OF BALL JUICE GODDAMIT and be able to get up at 4am. I even offered to meet him halfway and ride his dick in the car. He was down with that. I said, dude, I will even drive all the way past Milton from East Boston to your place. However, he now has 2 straight roomies and doesn't feel comfortable being the open homo he really is. *sigh* Mine is not to reason why. Mine is to figure out who's gonna fuck me next, which brings me to my emergency Dick in a Box, which I always seem to have on hand.
So I tore that shit open. "Oh for me? You shouldn't have. Does it come in a bigger size?" I won't even tell you which site I went on to get this emergency dick, but I know a couple people on there. One is this super annoying, broke down dude who's always trying to get some. I can't blame him really. *fake blush* But still. Enough. I hit up a heavier-set Latino with the thick dick to match. I hadn't seen him around. Wouldn't you know it. Annoying guy, his name is A, says "oh I see you're talking with my boy G. He's in town for the night." Whatever. How did you even get in this conversation, fool? I found out his hotel was in Revere, a little over 3 miles from my apartment. Mind you, this is after 12m. We exchange numbers. I log off, call him, make the plans, arrange the taxi, and I'm at his place within about 30, if not less. No time is wasted. I had an audition for a healthcare print ad in Natick scheduled for 9:30a (which I slept through), then a speaking role in a student-produced commercial for Showtime to start filming around 11-11:30a (which I left because it was a mess) and finally an open-call audition in NYC for 8 Track and something else (which I flaked on). Whew! I was exhausted by the day's end avoiding all that work.
All the details don't need to be given, but suffice it to say he hammered my hole for nearly 2 hours straight. I just couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't kidding when he said he could go all night. My asshole was a little sore. I'm surprised it even got in there. (I know. I say that everytime. Tee hee). But seriously, it wasn't a dick you should ride your first time at the rodeo. I'm a hofessional. You need a license to ride like I do. By the time we got through lubing and pounding and switching positions and sucking, my dick just wouldn't get hard anymore. I had been fucked into Softy Land. Backing up a bit, the very first thing I laid down was the Oral Smackdown. Only the best of the best suck a dick like I do. Dude, was like dayuuuuuuuuuuum. I even let it get super wet so that when I pulled off it there were long, thick strings of spit resembling the nutt that would follow much later. There was spittle dripping off his balls. Fucking awesome. To end it, he just had to jerk off because I couldn't take the beating anymore. My ass was so open when he blew up my hole my lungs expanded. I was like, damn papo. I ain't neva had CPR from the back! One of the last things he said was that I had some good ass. Like I didn't know. But it was very cool. Neither of us expected the session to last that long. I called the same taxi driver back; he'd given me his number and promised to stay in the area. Mind you, my apartment is less than 4 miles away from that hotel. As soon as I walk into my bedroom, I get the text from busto disgusto (A) and I quote, "my boy G says you're a freaky bottom. When can I find out?"
Seriously? It's like that? Whoa. I mean, what happened to keeping things discreet and confidential? (Like this blog, for instance). Damn asshole stole my thunder. I wanted to be the first to tell!
