montreal – Grindr Fantasies

Italy boy

So I’m in Montreal with my friend, Z and we have a hotel room at the Travelodge. I can’t resist a great deal. The room was advertised for two people, and it’s about the size of a closet. Yet they somehow crammed two single beds into it. It’s about 10 in the morning and Z’s laying back on his bed, scrolling on his phone. I tell him I’m having a guy over. He’s OK with it.

Great. I text the guy back. “He might be in the room but he won’t be participating.”

“ok. But he could idc”

Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I turn to my friend. “He’ll be here in six minutes.”

Z sighs and drops his phone on the bed. “I’m going out then. Tell me when you’re done.” He quickly gets his travel bag and leaves.

Moment’s later, there’s a soft knock at the door. I open it and in walks a tall Italian teenager. His curly black hair shines in the light. We exchange pleasantries and he starts to remove his expensive leather Italian shoes and unbuckle his belt. Soon he’s in his underwear, blue, form fitting. I drop to my knees and press my face into his crotch. When I finally look up at him, and he’s staring down at me, I can’t believe this twink came over. Half the guys in my catholic high school were Italian, and even decades later, this is like a dream to me. When I get tired of mouthing the fabric of his underwear, I put my two thumbs under his waist band and yank it down. They slide the ground and he gracefully steps out of them.

I lick his balls, and as I rake my eyes up his perfect abs I see him staring down with great interest. Suddenly I mouth his dick and he moans in excitement. I run my hands over his firm butt, just feeling every inch of him and he begins to hump into my mouth, slamming his fat dick head against my throat. I pull off, and see that it’s huge, with a slight curve upwards, so thick it’s oval shaped with a flat top. And, unlike many thick cocks I’ve seen, it’s long too. I push him toward the bed, and he sits on it.

“Where-ever you’re most comfortable,” he says. Soon we are both on the bed, and I am on my knees between his outstretched legs, deep-throating him. I’m not sure it’s working, but he seems to be enjoying it. We go for a while, and when I stop for a break, he gets up and throws one leg off the bed. What’s going on?

He gets up, then motions for me to lie down. He reaches down, grabs my arms and yanks me, so I’m face up, with my head hanging off the side of the bed. When I open my mouth, he smiles, then reaches down and grabs his dick, aiming it. With a gentle nudge, it goes all the way, hitting parts of my throat that have never been hit before. I don’t usually gag. I can hold my breath, but somehow, there is some spot deep in there that doesn’t want to be hit that I didn’t even know about. I let him hump a few times before I have to let out a deep breath, and he pulls off and lets me lick his balls a little, balancing his massive cock on my chin. I look up and see him staring back at me, with an odd smile on his face.

He goes in, again sliding it deep within my throat. He doesn’t fuck, but is just letting it sit there and slowly slide out again so I can take a breath. I wonder if it’s even working for him. Most guys in their 20s and 30s need to be stroked quickly to get anywhere. After a few more times, he pulls out all the way.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he asks.

“In my throat.” My voice is raspy. “Deep, deep in my throat.” Makes sense. He’d said he just turned 18.

He gazes down at me and smiles. I look deep into his brown eyes, I can see fire in them, an adventurous spirit, and something else—a hunger and excitement, like a fox about to capture his prey. “I’m almost going to cum,” he says. He uses his hand to point his dick again, and leaning his body forward, slides in. Once again his weighty balls are resting on the bridge of my nose and I’m staring up his ass crack.

I’m holding my breath, with my hands pressed against his thighs, ready to but trying my best not to shove him off of me. He’s barely thrusting, resting it there like a python in a log. He just twitches his hips a little, pulling it in and out mere millimeters. I think he’s edging. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. I can feel myself getting dizzy, but I tell myself I am deep under the ocean, with no way to take a breath until I break the surface.

Suddenly his breathing quickens. He moans deeply in ecstasy and inches from my face I can see his ass muscles squeezing together as I feel my throat filling with heat: blast after blast of the teen’s thick load. It lasts more than 10 seconds until he pulls out, dribbling cum up the side of my face, over my forehead and into my hair. Immediately, I roll onto my side and launch into a coughing fit.

I manage to hold up my hand. “I’m OK. Thanks, I liked it,” is all I manage to get out.

He laughs. “Good, I think it was a lot.”

I grin, finally able to suppress the coughs. “It was.”

We chat for a minute. He’s visiting from Italy with his dad. Montreal is a nice place. I’m surprised people stay out so late here, but where he comes from, they do as well. But he agrees that there’s just something different in Montreal. A feel-good feeling of friendliness, and a more vibrant culture.

“Can I use your washroom?” he asks.

I nod, and he goes into the small washroom (a closet within a closet) to clean up and apparently also to comb his hair. I grab my phone and text Z to come back.

No sooner has the Italian teen left than my friend opens the door. He’s suspicious. “I saw him in the lobby. He was looking at me. How did he know it was me?”

Lucky guess? I might have described Z a little to him in the texts.

“Yeah, I was sitting near the elevator and he gave me the strangest look… and then he was on his phone. Seemed pretty happy.”

Morning Wood Again

It’s not even 8am, and I’m standing in a hallway at the door of an apartment in Toronto. I fumble for my phone and double check the message.

“Door’s unlocked, u can come in and lock the door and come to my room and suck me.”

Heart pounding, I open the door. The bright sunny apartment is welcoming, but I feel like a prowler as I turn around and try to figure out the door lock. It won’t turn. I glance over my shoulder, half expecting a woman to walk out of the bedroom and start screaming. Finally I get the door closed by pulling it slightly while turning the deadbolt.

I round the kitchen island and can see into the bedroom. A pair of tan brown legs is sprawled out on the floor mattress. I get closer and see his cock and massive round balls. The thin 24yo asian guy smiles at me. “Hi,” he says.

Relieved, I take off my shirt and shorts and drop them by the bedroom door. I turn to look at him. Two years ago, back in Montreal, we’d chatted on Jack’d and he invited me over from my hotel. He liked my style, and I visited him each morning I was there there. Now I’m on a business trip again and we would pick up from where we’d left off. He is tall and slender, and just as I’d written, his balls are like a massive tennis ball. I collapsed forward onto the mattress and give them a sniff. I don’t think he’s showered yet. Wonderful! I give them a long lick, eager to taste his musk.

“Oh yeaaaahhhhh,” he says and shifts his legs to give me access to his scrotum. I lick it, and dig my tongue between the skin of his thighs.

“Better get that precum,” he says. I reach out and shift his cock, and see a slick drop oozing out of the slit. I suck on it like a lollipop, tasting the sweet salty flavour of his juices.

Suddenly his pulls his crotch away, getting up onto his knees. “Lay down,” he tells me. Having reviewed my story on the way here I’m excited to lay down because I know what he likes. I put my head into the dent of the pillows where his was just a second ago and wait.

He puts a knee over my chest and sidles up to my head. He grasps his dick and slaps my cheek a few times with it, smiling at the power he has over me. Finally he straddles my whole face and dips his massive ball sack into my mouth.

I lick it and my eyes drink in the curves of the most intimate parts of his body. He is small and lean, yet his butt has cute curves. I suck it and try unsuccessfully to get even one ball through my lips. They are too big. Instead, I lightly tease them and very slightly nibble the silky smooth skin with my teeth.

With a slight shift of his hips, he jabs his dick against my lips. “Suck that cock.” I open up and he stares into my eyes, gleefully watching his dick plunge into my mouth. He reaches behind himself and into my own underwear, pulls out my own massive hardon and strokes it with one hand.

“You like that?” he asks. “You want more?” He pulls out and then swings himself around, planting his butt in my face as he spreads his cheeks. I obediently stick out my tongue, and plunge it into his tight asshole. He gives a cute squeak of pleasure every time I do.

He shifts his body again, leans forward, and with one hand pushes his cock out and over my waiting lips. When we have contact, he lowers himself into my mouth again, and I feel my nose being smothered by his balls. At the same time I feel his soft warm lips around my own cock head. He gently sucks the tip, gingerly tasting it. I show him my pleasure my massaging his cock in my mouth with my tongue. He gasps with pleasure and my dick falls to my abdomen as he begins to fuck my face.

After a few moments, makes me get up and again takes my place on the bed, lying face up. I quickly get between his legs and start to suck on his cock, plunging it all the way in and out. I can tell he’s close now.

“You want to swallow?” he asks.

“Mmmm hmmmm,” I moan, not wanting to release it for a second.

“Oh yeaahhh, oh fuck, suck that cock,” he breaths, and then digs his elbows into the mattress, lifting his butt off the blanket, shoving himself further through my lips. I keep moving my tongue in circling motions, so even if he doesn’t move he can’t help but get stimulated. But then he starts to thrust his hips and I can taste more precum as it leaks from his dick.

I feel his hand on the back of my head, holding me in place. His body leans to the side as In the throws of by pleasure he’s able to balance on one arm as he frantically humps up into my face.

“Fuck man, suck that cum out,” he orders, as a second later his dick pulses in my mouth and expels the first blob of his seed. Quickly I plunge down on his member so he can feel the pleasure of shooting his load as deeply as possible. Only in the heat of the moment I had forgotten the secret of his massive balls. He quickly fills my throat and, unable to swallow with my mouth full of cock, I feel myself start to choke on his cumload. I sputter and mange to keep it down. Finally, his butt collapses back onto the bed and my head follows. I massage out the last drops with my lips as he lays there panting.

As I get dresssed, I tell him, “I’m real glad we could get together.”

“You know, I was just at your hotel visiting my friend when you snapchatted me,” he says.

“What what an amazing coincidence that you’re living in Toronto now.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I might move back to Montreal soon.”

Well, I know where my next trip will be.

Morning Wood in Montreal

I’m in Montreal for a few days. Tonight, I’ve told my business colleagues I’m doing some shopping while they have dinner. The truth is: I’m horny. It’s been a three month dry spell at home. I flip on grindr and just walk.

At night, Sainte-Catherine Street comes alive with glowing purple lights and street performers, as they crawl out their shipping container dressing rooms and prepare to perform to beer-gulping Montreal tourists. Further on, the clothing boutiques give way to poutine diners and Starbucks cafes. Soon I reach the gay village. The boundary between straight and gay is well marked. Hundreds of pink plastic balls are suspended over the street, in a giant cavernous spectacle. They seem to glow with an inner light. Under here, they seem to say, you’re safe. Come, join us. You belong.

I can never belong. I made my choice long ago, when I met my soul mate at the end of school. She saw past my shyness, and became the first person I dated. Now, we have a house, mortgage, kids, and seemingly everything is good. But I crave a physical connection that she can do without. For years I lived the lack of it using lonely porn, until I discovered that I was not entirely straight. With discretion, and a dose of guilt, I could have the best of both worlds.

I’m walking down the middle of the street, which is blocked off to vehicles all summer. Upscale pubs and restaurants spill their patios onto the street, full of diners sipping St. Ambroise craft beers and delicately forking up fancy french fries covered with a mess of gravy and smoked meat.

I look at the patrons and try to decide if they’re gay. Men sit with men, and men sit with women. Lost in thought, I almost crash into a lanky gray haired man, wearing a tank top far below his age. His loose leathery skin hangs off his arms in a display of pride. After tasting me with his eyes, he smiles seductively and continuous his brisk walk.

The establishments have open fronts, like a life sized gay diorama. A shirtless bartender, illuminated by red lights lazily pours beers for the small crowd of bearded bears around him. I pass Sebastian the Barber. Inside the chrome filled barber shop, a punk (Sebastian?) gracefully dances around his barber chair, putting the finishing touches on a brown guy in business attire. The two men could not have been more eclectic.

On my left I see a store with its window boarded up. Paradoxically, the above sign is lit and shining brightly. Black letters cast a silhouetted shadow of red. PRIAPE. From the Greek god of the penis, and the etomological root of a medical condition, priapism – a persistent and painful erection. I look through the open door, but I can’t see anything. I relent, and enter.

“Salut! Hello!” The clerk, a red-bearded bear of a man greets me.

“Just looking!” I exclaim, and I scurry behind a display stand of faceless black rubber masks. I can buy very little here without raising questions from my wife. Maybe some underwear. I try on a couple of pairs of PUMP briefs, admiring my body in the tiny change room. Shit, I can pull these off now. The smallest size hug my balls and make my ass look shapely.

When I emerge fully dressed again, the clerk is standing outside the curtain. “I would like to invite you to my basement,” he tells me, winking. “It is where the fun is, yes?”

I start at him blankly, wondering how he could proposition me so easily. Then my cheeks grow hot when I notice the stairs down to the other half of the store.

“I’ll have a look. Thanks.” Downstairs, a giant black sex swing hangs from the ceiling, holding piles of discounted latex penises. The premium models are impossibly sized and have testes attached, each wrinkle permanently etched in silicon. I consider getting one, but then realize that would be mad. Nothing has ever been inside me. I’ll start with a finger, one of these days.

I make my purchase and head out into the chaos outside. Grindr is useless here. Everyone on the screen is less than ten feet away, but they are busy, and it changes too quickly.

On Jack’d, I see the image of a cute twink. Shirtless, he rakes his hand through his tussled hair, as if he’d just woken up. He smiles infectiously. I message him, and a couple of others, but get no response.

The night seemed full of possibilities, but all I’ve got is $70 worth of spandex. Resigned, I board the metro at Beaudry station and rejoin my colleagues for beers in old Montreal. I remember little else from that night.

In the morning, I spring awake at 5:30. It will be hours until I have to report to work. I flip on my phone and browse. A message blinks at me. The twink from Jack’d has responded just now. We efficiently negotiate the details. He doesn’t want to come over, but I’m welcome to go to him. After I decipher the metro map, I’m soon walking toward his building as the city of Montreal awakens around me.

He answers the door in only a green tank top. At only 51 kg, he has no body fat, but a great body nonetheless. He is not overly thin, and I can see tight bulges on his arms marking cute biceps. He flashes me a sleepy smile as I come in. “Leave your shoes on if you want,” he says and stumbles back into his large studio apartment. The hardwood floor is brightly lit by the morning sun.

Tired, he walks zombie like and falls onto a black leather couch. “Sorry I just got up,” he says. “What would you like to do?”

I stare at his cock, cut and still sporting his morning wood. “If you don’t mind, we can get right to it.”

“Knock yourself out.” He spreads his knees, rests his head back on the couch and closes his eyes.

His balls are beautiful like a firm round softball sitting under his small cut cock. I slide my tongue under them, lift them off the salty couch leather, and massage them. His member pokes the bridge of my nose. When I engulf him in my warm softness, he moans and runs his hand through my hair. He is waking up now.

“How about you lay down, and I’ll get on top?” He asks.

“Sure! That’s kind of my favourite position.” I take the opportunity to strip and show him my new underwear.

“Where’d you get them?” he asks.

I tell him, but he balks at the price. I get onto his bed and kneels beside me. He reaches over and stuffs some gray pillows under my head.

Then he flips a leg over and towers over me, looking down. I run my hands up his legs and over his body, enjoying the smooth feeling.

“Suck my balls,” he orders. I open up and he lowers himself in. The the skin is soft and I mouth them, squeezing his testes gently between my lips. He gasps.

I watch his face as he grabs a small brown vial from the nightstand, opens it and sniffs it. Instantly he relaxes, moans, and lets down his weight.

“You like my balls, huh? It feels so good.” He jams his nuts into my mouth so hard I can feel the tendons under them pressing against my jaw. I chew them, suck them, licking off all of the delicious flavour while he takes another hit of alkyl nitrite.

He tosses the spent vial into his blankets, then falls forward over my face. All I can see are his rippling abs curving overhead. His balls pull away, and his penis, shiny and pink, juts millimetres from my lips. I’m anxious to take it.

With a thrust of his hips, he obliges, and I feel his cock slide into my mouth. “You’re a great cocksucker,” he moans.

He fucks me, and I raise my eyes, tilt my head back to get a look at his face. Resting on his elbows, he grips the pillow in his fists, like a panther clutching a doomed rabbit. He stares back into my eyes, enjoying the sight of his own his dick invading me. His slight size means I can breathe comfortably and I reward him by moving my tongue in the swallowing motion I’ve perfected.

He pulls out and raises his body up again, staring down at me in ecstatic wonderment. “Yeah chew on my balls.” Again he teabags me, enjoying the feeling of his balls being serviced. I moan at him to express my pleasure.

He grabs his dick and shoves it in my mouth, gives a quick thrust of his hips and jabs it in deep. “You like that, huh?” He thrusts again. “You like it when I fuck your mouth?”

“Mmmm hmmm” I answer.

“What’s that? You want it HARDer?” He stabs it so hard my lips feel bruised against his unpadded bones.

“Oh man, fuck that’s good.” Thrust. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and slowly let’s it out. “uuuuhh… yeah… I’m soooo close!”

He plants his hands behind my head, holds me in place, and starts to mouth fuck me quickly. “Oh fuck, oh man on fuck… I’m gonna cum I hope you want it oh fuck!”

He slams into me full on and I feel the syrupy thickness erupt into my throat. He holds me there, and I learn the secret of his firm balls as their contents fills me. He tilts his head and stares at me grinning while I struggle to gulp down his impossibly large load. At last he lifts his knee of my chest and settles back beside me on his haunches, completely drained.

“That was so good,” I tell him. “Thanks I’m glad to meet you.”

“Yeah me too. How long are you here for?”

“I’ll be here the test of the week,” I smile putting on my sandals. “Maybe we can do it again? If you want..” I add hopefully.

“I’d like that,” he says, falling into the pile of pillows. “I’m probably gonna go back to sleep now though.”

I make my own way out, glad to have met this guy, and take the metro back to my hotel for breakfast. He became my Montreal morning routine for the rest of the trip.