Monday, 31 October 2016

Bitten and brutalized...

I've had a quiet Saturday at home, some awkwardly timed chores getting in the way of any hookups, when the Falcon pings me.  He's "right around the corner", and wants to pass by in an hour or so.  We've been trying for over a week to get together, but with no success.  I'm tiring of his flaky behavior and constantly broken promises, but Grindr tells me he's 350m away, so we'll see.  Lo and behold, his profile slips further and further down my screen, so I message and ask what's going on.  He has 'an urgency' on the other side of town, and will catch me another time.  That's 3 strikes buddy - I don't think so...

Not half an hour later my phone beeps, and it's the harus.  Since I blew him a few weeks ago, I've not heard a word, and thus drew the conclusion he wasn't interested in resuming (or furthering) our activities together.  Wrong.  He's dead keen, and already heading in my direction.

He arrives, and we sit, a little awkwardly, on the couch watching TV.  He reaches over and taps my shoulder, pointing to his bulging jeans and says 'please...', so I stand and gesture to the bedroom.  In we head, and he begins to slowly remove his clothes, encouraging me to do so also, then asking that I turn so he can observe me from behind.  He slowly caresses me, letting his rough hands wander over my butt, lifting and patting it before he slaps it quite hard.  Asking for a condom, he leans back on the bed and signals me to climb on, but as our faces touch he pulls away and pushes me to the side, grabbing my hips and lifting me onto all fours, positioning himself between my legs from behind.

A quick squirt of lube and he shoves his 10" cock straight in, causing me to cry out and lunge forward, but he grabs me and drags me back, again a full open-handed butt slap and then sinking his teeth into the cheek.  It bloody hurts, but not as much as when he straightened up and rammed himself back inside me, fucking me quite viciously as he pants "5 minutes 5 minutes" like a mantra, before he pulls out and falls back onto the pillow.  He removes the condom and signals for me to get rid of it, then once I return he grabs my head and forces it onto his cock.  As I suck, he wants me to jerk off, but I'm struggling owing to the angle, so he pushes me away and stands up.

Me sitting on the bed, his body right in front of me, he once more grabs my ears and shoves his pole into my mouth - I grab his hips for balance, but he pushes my hand away and towards my own dick so I can jerk as he thrusts, but too quickly he pants "cumming" and without warning he floods my mouth, holding my head and forcing me to swallow.  I suck him dry, then he withdraws and slaps my face before cleaning up and dressing.  Once done he says goodbye and leaves without further comment.

I reckon from the moment he walked in, to the moment he left was less than 30 minutes, but 2 days later I still have his teethmarks on my rump...

 

Almost romantic...

The Syrian has been down the line more or less constantly, asking when we can meet.  Between outright exhaustion and regular travel (possibly related), I am finally able to nominate a night.  Duly it comes, and I head down to his place - my frequent visitors have aroused the suspicion of the Super, and I'm now subject to disapproving looks as I enter and exit the building.  Like I care.

Anyway.  I get to his place, and instead of dinner he tells me he "ate at 4pm", so he really just wants to go to bed and fuck.  I'm quickly plunging into 'need a cookie' mode, so I insist we get something to eat, so we go out and dine together before heading back to his place.  I've kind of implied I'll be staying over, but now I don't want to and I'm trying to work out how to break this to him without upsetting him too much.

We get back to the flat, and as soon as the door is closed he has me in his arms, kissing me and licking my throat as he drags me into the bedroom, where he removes my clothes and starts to blow me.  Again I watch myself in the mirror, and it's pretty cool.  Eventually we get horizontal, and after much kissing and an extensive rim job from him, he rolls me to my side and enters me from behind, just as the Engineer always does.  He is gently fucking me, his body undulating, but he wants to get a little more aggressive and he gradually works me onto my stomach and begins to fuck me from above, but his length is problematic and it hurts.  I roll to my back and move to throw a leg over his shoulder, but he ducks this as he falls sideways, now lying at a 90deg angle to me, my legs draped over his torso.  From this angle he comes at me again, easily sliding his length in, pistoning and bucking quite hard at me, providing me with new sensations.  It's actually a pretty comfortable fuck, and he goes at it for some time before exiting me and sitting upright.

He rights himself and comes in between my legs, grabbing my cock as he slides his own back inside me, and he begins to jerk me as he fucks, occasionally leaning down to kiss me.  He's done this before, and regular readers will know it's only moments before I shoot my load.  He milks me dry as he continues to fuck me, then withdraws and removes the condom, grunting and panting as he too shoots all over me.

From here we retire to the couch and sprawl about eating sweets, drinking tea, smoking and chatting.  I'd not noticed earlier, but he's decorated the flat with candles and whatnot, so it's slightly embarrassing when I break it to him that I must depart.  He's clearly disappointed by this, but I tell him my wife is facetiming me in the morning and she will see the different background.  I am then made to promise and commit to a return date (next Tuesday if anyone's interested), before I make my exit.

It is very late, and the motorway is largely deserted.  I am minding my own business, toodling along at around 125kmh in the middle lane, when there is a sudden flash of light behind me.  Out of nowhere, a pair of Bentley GT's roar past me on either side, moving as if I were standing still.

Some km or so down the road the motorway ends, and I see both cars stopped at the lights.  I pull up and look across, to see that each is driven by a girl perhaps in her early '20's, just out having a race it seems.  Only in the Sandlands.....

Thursday, 27 October 2016

Fisted...

Hmmm.  I've been seeing a bit of the Civil Servant over the past week or so.  We spend more time talking than we do fucking, but the sex has been satisfying (if fast), and the conversations stimulating.

As part of this, he's recounted a few tales along the way - it seems he's normally quite the dom, and enjoys having his cock sucked as he sits with a cigar, alternately pissing and cumming in the guys mouth, and he also finds fisting to be "a remarkably intimate connection between two men".  The conversation moves on, and after some snuggling in front of the TV, it is time for us to head for the bedroom.  We make out for an hour or so, teasing one another, licking, biting and sucking, then he positions me on my back and heads south, sucking my dick and letting his hands roam over my body, with particular attention paid to my balls as he sucks.  In time, he reaches for the lube and begins to stroke my hole, working a finger or two in and out as he sucks, commenting "how good it is to feel me from inside", and I duly arch my back to make it easier for him (on both counts).  He slides a pillow beneath my ass, and continues to suck me, and he's doing damn well at it, but I can feel a growing pressure in my ass as he does.  It's a little uncomfortable, so I squirm to reposition, but the pressure won't go away.  In time I get used to it, and I simply lie back and enjoy the blowjob, which is going on much longer than I had expected from the self-confessed dom, although that pressure is still present.  Eventually, he breaks from the blowjob and works his mouth up to mine, his hands still between my legs, and whispers to me "congratulations, you're being fisted"...  It turns out the pressure was all five of his digits, worked into me up to his knuckles.  Clearly I was complicit in this, even though I was still a little surprised by the information.  With his hand still largely inside me, he then spat on my cock and jerked me off, which took a surprisingly long time but was incredibly intense when it did happen.

After an extended cuddle and murmured conversation, he is still hard, so he gently rolled me to my stomach, suited up and spent his usual 3 minutes fucking me before he shot his own load.  Afterwards we had drinks and cigarettes and he departed.

He followed up with a call the next day, asking how I was, how I felt, and what I felt about it.  As I told him, my ass was damned sore but I wasn't sure how I felt otherwise.  It's kind of the ultimate sub act in my view (no judgment though), and I don't see myself on that part of the dancefloor.  Am I a fistee?  No.  Would I let him do it again?  Perhaps...

An interesting boundary to cross.  More thought required.

 

Monday, 24 October 2016

Eye candy (sort of...)

Life in my part of the world is not without its dramas, and thus security is a simple and ongoing fact of life.  My employer has a large number of guards - these are regularly rotated around the premises and senior personnel.  Generally Egyptian, they range from the devilishly charming to the dour, and from the fit to the fat.  Over time I have come to know most of them and they all know me.

However, I was recently assigned a new chap, one I've not seen before.  Short, painfully thin, with a sharp little face and over-gelled hair, he's "no oil painting" as Mere Liggett is wont to say.

It seems he also wears boxers, as his slightly too tight pants reveal something that looks like a RedBull can running down his inner thigh.

All I can say is that it's utterly distracting...

Nice and normal, routine and boring...

There's not been a lot to report.  I've been seeing Adonis, the Syrian and the Engineer on rotation basically every other night, and we've just got a nice rhythm going.  The sex is neither groundbreaking nor dull, but it's nothing I haven't written about here before.  Adonis is proving to be a very young pup - he still won't suck my dick, and after extensive kissing he wants to fuck me from a variety of angles until he cums, then it's shower and go.  I'm thinking to start easing back on him - despite his fucking gorgeous body, and excellent kissing skills, the boy really is dumb as a post, and any conversation attempts are met with a giggle and 'my English...'.  This is in stark contrast to the other two, for whom the post-sex chat and sprawl is as much a part of our time together as the act itself.  Plus the Falcon has returned, and I'm deciding whether or not to do a bit more with him.  After the departure of my family, he has decided "we should be a couple", but he's more than a little unreliable, so we'll see...

 

Thursday, 20 October 2016

Quick follow up and wtf?

Don't recall if I mentioned this here, or in a comment on another blog.  When I visited my homeland earlier this year, I was dining with a childhood friend and his wife, who subsequently went to bed and left us to drink and chat in the garden.  After a few glasses, my friend leaned across, grabbed my shirtfront and told me how he'd only ever wanted me, not his wife or any of the many girlfriends along the way, and that it was the great 'heartbreak' of his life that we weren't together.  Awkward, as I don't find him at all attractive despite our obvious sympatico.  On my more recent visit, both he and she were keen to have dinner again, but I can't help but suspect she suspects something.  We had what could be described as a 'polite' meal, but he kept staring at me and nudging my leg under the table, and finally the wife called time at an unreasonably early hour and we were done.

However.  I attended another meal with a similar group of longstanding friends, which went on for far too long (8 hour lunch anyone?), and the concurrent amount of booze and sly joints outside with the smokers.  I needed to move on to another party, and one of our number asked to accompany me.  He's basically family, so of course he could.  Now, I am, and have always been, a sincere capitalist and subscriber to the Protestant work ethic, and he is the polar opposite.  Madly left-wing, pro-communist, and a firm believer in the obligation of the state to care for its citizens, he and I have shared many debates over the years regarding our differing viewpoints, although always with laughter and respect.  He too is married, but has no children.  Over lunch he tells me he has written me many letters over the past few years, but is saddened I haven't acknowledged them or replied, before showing me an address that hasn't been valid for half a decade.

So.  We're in the cab, and he turns to me.  "Y'know", he says, "one of the most frustrating things about you is that you are utterly unaware of your looks, your charm and your intelligence" (I can be a glass half empty guy sometimes).  Now he's always been into alternative therapies and similar pursuits, so I'm bracing myself for some kind of pep talk about self-actualization or whatever, but he reaches across the backseat and takes my face in his hands and kisses me deeply and longingly.  Finally breaking away, he smiles and says he's wanted to do that for decades, and that deep inside he believes that I am the love of his life and that 'society' has kept us apart.  I do not know how to respond to this at all.  I'm kinda sweet on him too, but in a fraternal way.  I do love him, but have no desire for a relationship beyond the brotherly one we have now.

Our cab arrives at the destination - a heaving and trendy pub - and my other friends are waiting on the terrace, gesturing at their watches to remind me how late I am.  In the arrival melee of hellos, kisses and gentle upbraiding for keeping them waiting, I am separated from my companion, only to receive a text later hoping I'd had a good time and that he meant everything he said and did.  Ay carumba!

Wednesday, 12 October 2016

Busy, not busy...

It's been a while, and I've been traveling, but there's been a bit going on.

With my family now departed, I'm free to entertain.  Although it hasn't always worked out as I'd hope.  DJ has been regularly down the line, offering up a tasty selection of subs, but our diaries just haven't gelled, so nothing to report on that front.  Plus I'm tired, and roleplay is just exhausting.

Adonis however, has been a regular visitor.  It's interesting - as a younger guy, he seems genuinely starved for affection, and really just wants to kiss a lot and lie in my arms under the covers.  As he lies there, he keeps muttering "oh my god, oh my god", as if physical contact is something unusual for him.  He still won't blow me (which is getting tiresome), and after much kissing and me rimming him, he will shyly ask if we can "get started".  He seems to view the actual fuck only as a means to cum, as if the soft sex were the main attraction so to speak.  He mentioned the nationality of his father (a very stern and unaffectionate people), so I suspect I really am 'the daddy' here...

The Syrian remains on his travels, and the Indian guy also, but the Engineer did pass by last night.  We had a great session, loads of kissing and 69, and it was one of those fucks were, as so often with him, the mood, the angle and the timing was perfect.  He had me ride him as we kissed to begin, but he kept stuffing up his thrusts and slipping out, so he rolled me to my side and came in from that angle.  After a few hits with the amyl, I was so relaxed he couldn't fuck me hard enough, to the extent he pushed me to my stomach and just belted me from above.  Damn it felt great, and in one of his usual conjuring tricks he managed to start panting and keening, flip me onto my back, and spray a weeks worth of cum onto me.  He wiped his hand over my face, forcing some of his load into my mouth, then using the remainder to jerk me off as he worked his other fingers in and out of my ass as I shot my own load.

We spent a full 10 minutes tangled in each other, laughing and gasping, before he announced (to my surprise), that he hates the smell of his own cum and was heading to the shower.

I was drenched to the extent that, when I went to lift my head, I found my ear was stuck to the pillow - now that's what I call a load!!!