Author: pgentle7

The Lost Stories: In Sync

I pull up to this guy’s house on a well-to-do crescent and park right in front of his house, because he didn’t tell me otherwise. If the neighbours are watching, I could be anybody. Maybe I’m selling insurance.

I’m here for sex.

He answers the door. He’s 5ft tall, tan skinned, with jet-black short curly hair in a receding hairline. Like me, he’s in his mid-thirties. Middle eastern? Brazilian maybe? I dunno. I’m bad at this. All I know is that I feel safe to have my wallet in my pocket, because if he terrorist-bombs me it won’t matter anyway. We greet each other and I walk into his beautiful foyer, with its white stone tiles. A marble table holds up family photo. Him and his two young girls, all of them embracing his beaming wife. Today, the wife and daughters are away visiting family in her home country. They’re gone long enough that his kids are attending school there. In the meantime, he’s taking full advantage.

Yeah, we chatted a little before this.

“Would you like a beer? Pop?” he asks me.

“Um, no thanks, I’m good.” I drop my coat on top of my shoes by the door. It took 40 minutes to drive here, and the Rush, the Evil Thing inside me that propels me, is subsiding. But I can’t back out now. “Can I use your washroom?”

He smiles and leads me upstairs, into his giant master bedroom. It’s dominated by his king-sized bed, neatly made with a gray comforter. It even has the extra little pillows on it. My god, the one time my wife was gone for a few days, our bed got to be so full of crap that I slept on the couch.

I piss in his spacious bathroom, and carefully wash my hands. I dry my dick off in his face towel.

When I emerge, he’s lying on the bed in his boxers, seductively. On the 60″ flatscreen in the corner, a grunting muscle-man pounds his manhood into a young twink, who emits moans of ecstasy. Maybe pain.

He invites me to lay down beside him. I strip down to my underwear, and sink into the luxurious pillow-top mattress. I’ve got to get one of these someday. It’s so relaxing. He reaches over and rubs my pecs, massages my belly. By the time he gets down there, my boner presses against the fabric of my SAXX briefs.

Soon we’re both naked. I’m not disappointed. I usually only see guys in their 20s, but I made an exception today when he sent a photo of his 8” uncut dick. From the neck down, he’s miraculously lean and shaved smooth as any twink, and he sits, eyes locked on my own penis, slowly stroking his own shaft. I reach over and soon we’re both feeling each other. Temptation sets in. We move in closer, and soon our dicks are touching, rubbing, oozing wetness and spreading it around on our cock heads.

He presses forward and I fall onto my back under him. I can smell his hot breath and we explore each other. I run my hands down his back and squeeze his ass. His tan skin is smoother than his silk sheets, hairless everywhere. He moves down my body slowly, breathing in my scent, and then I feel my penis slide into the hot wet softness between his lips. He sucks me slowly, and I moan and gasp for him. I know what I like so I do the same for him. I grab his head and hold him there and make him worship me. But the pressure builds in my balls. They ache for release, so I stop him.

“It’s your turn,” I tell him. He grins and flips over onto his back. I get on top of him in the 69 position, and inhale his smooth cock. I push down like a snake gorging itself on an unlucky meal. My oesophagus is full, stretched open. I feel like retching, but I tell myself not to. It works. Instead, I swallow more, massaging this massive thing in my throat.

“Oh my god,” he says in surprise. He grabs my body and we flip. I’m on my back again, staring up at his perineum. He slowly fucks my face, plunging down further and further while he sucks on my balls. I reach down and prop up my dick, and he quickly gets the idea and slurps it up again.

On the TV, another muscle man fucks another twink, going through the same dance as before. This one likes it more; he keeps shouting “Harder!” as he receives his pounding.

As far as I know, 69 is usually just a warm up. But for me it’s ecstasy. Sucking and being sucked, sharing the same sensations, the wordless feedback between two bodies and minds. I can keep it going as long as I want, but the after a few minutes the time seems right for it to end.

I swing my knee up and we flip once again, and I’m pressing into his mouth. I feel the pressure build from deep inside me, and I start to fuck. The twink on TV is getting shredded now, his moans reduced to high pitched barks of pain. I’m can’t control it anymore. I plunge in, thrusting wildly until I spasm and pump out a dozen shots right down his throat. Suddenly feeling heavy, I press down with my weight, squeeze his curly hair between my thighs and make him eat it all. I pull out slowly so he can suck me clean.

His penis has been lodged in my throat the whole time. When I lift off I see his shrinking down already, a tiny drop of white glistens at the tip. Shit, we came at the same fucking time and I didn’t even notice.

“That was a lot,” he says, wiping his chin with his wrist.

“Sorry,” I lie.

“No, it was good,” he says, grinning. He taps the pillow. “Lie down, stay awhile.”

I lay back. It’s nice, but the Evil thing is gone now, and I can’t relax. I stare at the ceiling, and we chat about our kids, our wives, and our lives. He had a long term thing going with a guy, but they had to break it off recently. The other man was starting to get too serious, buying clothes and gifts for him that were making it difficult to hide.

“I love her with all my heart, but you can’t get this,” he tells me, waving at my cock.

Yeah. I know.

Slow

I set my latte beside me, and open my laptop in the cramped corner of the campus nature building. I’d prefer Starbucks, but I know he likes to study here.

I met him here last week, a Friday evening when I was working on my laptop. The 22 year-old’s profile was blank with only the words “Blow me” at the top.

“Yo,” he said on Friday. The first move.

“What’s up.”

“Chilling and need to be sucked.”

He obediently did what I told him to. Five minutes later, I lightly knocked on the door of my favourite restroom downstairs. The door clicked and he let me in. He stared at me a moment, wide-eyed, sizing me up.

I hung my coat up, moved to him and unbutton his jeans, pulling them down. He stepped out, and pulled down his tight black boxers. Under them was a lot of hair, and a soft penis, just peeking out of its velvety cover of skin. It was tiny, and I knew then that we would be having a lot of fun.

“Did you lock the door?” he asked, shifting uneasily.

“It’s locked.” I looked up at him, smiled, and wrap my mouth around his dick. He gasped and it inflated in my mouth. At full mast, he was only four inches. I could could do a lot with that, and I did. He pressed his full black pubes into my nose, and I was excited to find it only went up to the back of my mouth. I squeezed his cock head  between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. He inhaled sharply.

I was kneeling on the ground backed into the corner of the bathroom.He gripped my shoulders, holding me there while he fucked. His striped white shirt kept falling down over my nose, and I smelled laundry detergent before I lifted it up again. With his comfortable size, I could have gone on for longer, but after five minutes I longed for more control.

“Want to sit down?” I asked him.

He stopped, considering it, and then moved to the toilet. He lay back on its lid, knees in the air on either side of me, and I shimmied over to him. I sucked his cock, applying every move, everything I’ve learned in the past six months. But there was some doubt in the back of my mind. He was still hard, but nothing was happening yet. I stared up at him while I sucked. He lay there, eyes half closed, mouth open slightly, in an expression of raw sex. I kept going.

A minute later something changed. The bottom got rougher as it scraped against my lower lip. And then he breathed hard and bucked his hips and I drained him slowly, very slowly letting him down and out, until I was gently kissing his cock head as it lay on his thigh. We rested for a moment.

It had been a 15 minute blowjob. And when he sat up and thanked me, it was all worth it. The way his voice trembled, it was clear that this was the best sexual experience he had ever had in his life up til now.

All weekend, I imagined it over and over. I thought about him there, standing in the corner of the room, his butt thrusting in and out, and while I am knees beneath him. And then I saw him there, sitting on the toilet, spent, staring at me with surprised wonderment, eyes full of gratitude.

So I’m here again, waiting, and hoping. When my phone makes the thumping sound, I check it right away.

It’s him.

“Where are you?” he writes.

“I’m around :-)”

“Need some load now? Need to cum with your lips lol.”

My cock presses against my tight jeans, and I shift in my chair.  “I’m free,” I write back.

I hear the thump and it is not from my phone. Two chairs away from me, at the same long table in the cafe, a student checks his phone. I glimpse the blue and orange screen. I see his white striped shirt, and remember his intoxicating scent.

Fun times await.

Begging For It

A 20-something guy had texted me. He’s never met up with anyone on Grindr before. In fact, he’s nearly asexual. Except he loves to get blown.

“I loooove it. But I have to warn you about something,” he had said.

What? I braced for the worst, HIV, or some tragic injury, or deformity.

“I have lots of precum.” He takes a pic to show how turned on he was just talking to me.

I’ve meet him twice since then, and each time was a delight. Some nights, as I lay in my bed stroking, I think about being his slave, and him my slave, and he is not allowed to cum unless it is between my lips. I think of his wild desperation and soundlessly spill my load into a sock, while my wife snores beside me.

But he works far from here, and it keeps him far too busy. He hasn’t had a chance to jerk off in five days. Today, his priorities have shifted. He skips out of work early and he’s driving back from Toronto. We agree to meet at 3:30, but as he blazes through the traffic on the 401, he keeps messaging me to move it earlier.

I find him in the posh lobby of his downtown condo. When I was still in school, this place was a dying shirt factory, its few remaining workers staying only to listlessly clean while its assets were sold off. Today, as with all of the industrial buildings downtown, the cement floors have been replaced with white stone tiles. They hold up white leather couches, fuzzy faux fur blankets strewn on top for showy opulence as much as comfort. The walls are all glass and gold trim.

He sits there in his gray suit and cheap gold watch, carefully holding a laptop bag between his legs while he checks his iPhone. When he sees me, he leaps up to greet me and brushes his long black hair out from his eyes. He must be the rookie in his firm. His face is soft, eyes still full of the excitement of youth. If I think about it, I can almost see his aboriginal roots. I know from his pictures that under his business formal attire are some strong pecs. And a delicious cock.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I ask him.

“I’m good,” he says, and laughs nervously. Softly, he says, “Glad I have this briefcase.” He moves it aside. He’s hanging left today.

When the elevator stops, we’re on the top floor. The condo’s lounge has glass tables, and it’s deserted. He leads me down the halls. Last time we checked the gym, where eight Lifefitness treadmills sat unused. Today he doesn’t bother. He feverishly scans his keycard, unlocking the large mahogany doors. We rush into the changeroom, then into a small, dark chamber, barely big enough to be a closet.

The sauna is cool and dark and redolent with the smell of cleaning spray. The light switch is on the outside, but neither of us bother to turn it on. It’s more exciting this way. The moment the door latches, he drops his briefcase and pushes his pants to his shins. A dark smear encroaches across the left side of his underwear. He’s been leaking precum his entire drive back.

I lay down the rules. “I want to keep you going as long as I can. Just tell me if you’re going to cum.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.” Once his pants are a pile on the floor, he stands on the bench and laughs nervously. His penis, hard as hell, curves up from under his dress shirt and tie.

I can barely see it in the dark, but I suck the top like a lollipop and taste its wetness leaking out. Seconds later, he gasps, pushes me away, and his cock spasms and bounces in a dry ejaculation. This was going to be a challenge!

I go for his sack instead. I reach under, gently lift it, and use my finger to press and massage his perineum. Then I turn my head and suck on his balls. His cock rests on my cheek as I knead them with my tongue, delicately going over the sensitive parts. He bucks and tiny wet droplets sprinkle onto my skin near my eyes.

He touches my head lightly. “Umm you’re going to make me cum,” he warns me. I release too late, and once again his cock bounces and spasms in his second orgasm. His eyes are squeezed shut as he grunts with the great effort, but he manages to hold in his sperm.

Wow. This guy is a find. Wish I could do that.

I take a moment to rethink it. This time I stick out the tip of my tongue, and just lightly tap the bottom of his cock head. It’s hard and tense, full of energy about to be sprung.

His whole body shudders. “Please, I wanna cum so bad,” he asks.

“No, not yet. I still want to play.”

Using only my tongue tip, I start from the bottom and very, very slowly lick to the top. Then I kiss his slit, and very lightly slurp up the next load of his precum. With my lips, I spread his wetness up and down his length. He leans back against the wall and bucks his hips at me. I pull away, just out of reach. The tension is palpable.

“Please, please please let me cum. I have to cum, I have to… it’s been so long….” he begs me, his eyes pleading with the urgency of impending biological need. He’s starting to sweat now, and I take a deep breath full of the scent of his musk.

Finally, I grab his ass and let him slide all the way in. I give him maximum stimulation, massaging the bottom with my tongue all the time. In response, his penis leaks a steady stream of fluid. Up and down, twisting, I go all out. Amazingly, he lasts through this, until his hands fly to the back of my head. His knees buckle and he doubles over, his powerful grip holding me to him, each breath a moan, and with each moan I feel my mouth fill up with more of his seed. It is plentiful, and thick, and nutty, with no trace of bitterness, and I keep it and his organ inside me so long that he gasps once again with the pain of release.

“Thanks,” he says, zipping up. He’s  looking down at the floor, anywhere but at me as we head back down the hall. On the way down, there’s someone else in the elevator. “Good seeing you again,” I tell him, when we get to his floor. He blushes, clutches his briefcase in front of him, and leaves.

Ragefucked

“Come over and use that slutty mouth of yours on my cock.” The message blinks on my screen in the Starbucks where I’m working on my laptop. It’s from someone I’ve met before. I snap the lid closed. Twenty minutes later I’m there.

The slim brown guy answers the door in his tight white boxers, his black beard neatly trimmed. He’s freshly showered, but he looks tired. “Hey, how have you been?” He asks as I step in and take off my shoes.

“Not bad,” I tell him. “But took a break for a while. I had one of those month long colds. So I might be out practice.” This is my first hookup in six weeks.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, not hearing. “I had a boyfriend. But my friend called me up and said he saw him kissing a guy in the parking lot. I didn’t want to be believe it but it’s true.”

“Oh, that’s rough.”

His big shaggy black dog, usually jumping up at me excitedly, lay on a mat in the corner. She raises her head a little, gazes at me mournfully, sighs, and then lay down again.

We go in the bedroom and he strips, revealing his taut brown skin and his dark uncut cock. I’m staring.

“Take off your clothes man,” he tells me.

“Sure.” as I pull off my sweater he smiles just a little.

“Hey, you look great.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You lost weight or something since last time.”

Aww thanks. I’ve been lifting weights, and trying to bulk for nine months now. I’m bad at it. I managed to gain 15 pounds, but I gave up trying to stuff myself during my cold.

He lays back on the bed, resting on his elbows, nude. I can’t tear my eyes away from his crotch. I lay between his legs and wrap my lips around his penis. It flops and squishes, and his brown skin feels impossibly velvety against my tongue. He grabs it’s base between his fingers and I feel the blood rush in and it slowly fills my mouth. He lets out a slow breath, and  gently caresses my hair, sending tingles through my scalp.

I let it slip out and I just want to stare at it. “You have a beautiful cock,” I tell him. It’s seven inches, and the end is a perfect glistening orb, pink as bubble-gum, wrapped in delicate brown skin. He watches me in amusement.

On the bed beside him, his phone lights up and interrupts us. His smile vanishes. “It’s him.” He says, and stabs the cancel button, silencing it.

Last time, we kissed passionately and frantically explored each others bodies. Now, he seems lost in thought as he shoves my head down to his penis. I mouth it and press in, feel it snap past my tonsils. His was the first dick that I ever deep throated without gagging.

He moves his fingers to his balls, presses them against my lips. “Get my balls in too.”

I’m already at my limit but I push down further, let one slip in. He uses his index finger and I feel its partner follow.

I shift, and his glans scrapes the back of my throat. It sends a shiver through his body. He moans, “Oh man that’s good.” He stares at me with his brown eyes, and I know what’s coming next. I feel his two hands on my scalp, pushing me down as he tries to hit that spot on my throat again. He humps hard, lifting his ass of the bed and succeeds. I use the opportunity to slide my hands behind him. His ass cheeks are perfect, I can cup them in my hands. I squeeze them and let my hands slip inside his crack.

MURAARPH. A gutteral, horrible sound comes out of me. I retch, I’m choking and pull off, leaving a string of thick throat mucous all over his cock.

After I swallow, he presses me down again, and starts to hump quickly. He needs to hit that spot. Repeatedly. And hard. He manages 15 or 20 quick thrusts before I retch again. I get up and wipe my face off with the back of my arm.

He leaps up, throws his pillow at the foot of the bed. “Lay down. On your back.” He looms over me, bends my legs back and eagerly strokes my anus. “Have you let anyone in yet?” he asks hopefully.

The look on my face answers for me.

He’s not happy. He moves to the floor at foot of the bed behind me. He stands there, his dick raging above my face. He locks eyes with me.

“Open your mouth. I’m going to fuck you.”

I lean my head back and he shoves himself in and holds it there. The angle lets him go deep, further than anything’s ever been that wasn’t food. It’s fucking hot staring into his the stubble of his butt crack. I wonder when he’s going to grab my penis, or if I will have to do it.

But he’s in his own world now, and when he starts to fuck, my hands fly up to his waist to guide him, or maybe to push him away. He fucks like he doesn’t care. It’s hot.

I retch again. I barely managed to swallow the fluid and he shoves back in, humping faster this time. He thrusts in short bursts, like a hare in heat. When he permits me to breathe, I don’t know if it’s for my comfort or if he’s just doing it so it won’t end.

MMMRAURGH. I taste the pumpkin spice latte I had for breakfast. It’s too much. I sit up, grab a towel, and wipe my face off.

He sighs, flops back down on the bed and jerks himself.

When I lean in and give him a lick, he latches on to a fistful of hair. “Suck on my balls,” he demands. I roll his nuts in my mouth as much as I can while he jerks. I can feel his heart pounding. “You want my cum?” He asks.

“Mmm hmm”

“I said do you want my cum?” He stops and holds his penis up. It throbs. “Then make me cum with your mouth.”

I take it in my mouth and try my best. But then he angrily grabs my head and moves it for me, jerking it up and down. “Yeah, suck it you cocksucker. Suck my fucking cock!”

Now I know how a paint mixer feels. I relax and try to keep my teeth away, while he drills my face down further and further onto his dick. I’m about to retch again, when suddenly his ass lifts off the mattress and I know he’s too close, he will never let me stop, so I close my eyes and will away the urge. My nose slams against bone. I feel beads of sweat as I grip his ass cheeks.

“I’m cumming,” he finally exclaims, and in the same moment the phone rings again. It lights up beside me, ignored. He roars and locks my head in place, and his whole body thrusts up like he’s being electrocuted, and his dick is the centre of it all. I feel it pulsing against my lip and his angry load surges out deep inside me.

He takes a deep breath and reluctantly lets go of my hair. He’s cradling the phone against his cheek, speaking in hushed tones while I suck the rest out of him. “Yeah. The phone was in the bedroom,” he explains. I only catch bits and pieces of the conversation. When he’s clean, I hunt for my socks and quickly get dressed. “I love you too,” I hear him tell the caller. I feel awkward. I tip-toe over the dog on the way to the door.

Before I can leave, he rushes out of the room, dick flopping in the air, phone in hand. He smiles, eyes full of warmth and gratitude, puts his arms around me and squeezes me close. “Thanks man,” he whispers in my ear. “I really needed you today. You’re awesome.”

Yeah, it was hot. My throat is raw but I’m grinning as I drive back to work. After that rage fuck I can take anything.