It’s my last night in Toronto and I’m eager to get out after a hard day of business tripping. I step out of my hotel and just walk, aimlessly, joyfully, as the setting sun paints the metallic towers and sidewalks gold.
I’ve had enough fun the past two days for a while. But when my Android buzzes I can’t help looking. This time, it’s Jack’d. Back in University Town the app is populated by the same 28 guys. Here, the grid is full of exciting possibilities.
His profile says he’s Filipino, and the 21 year old’s mysterious smile is hooded by a nearly invisible moustache. I send a quick greeting back and stuff my phone back into my tight jeans.
It’s dark now but Yonge street is awash in colour and the throngs still rush by with renewed restlessness.

I pass a delicious pizza place. Should I go in? I poke my head in and check the slices, taking a deep breath and smelling the doughy cheesiness. The owner looks at me expectantly, and I leave. What if there’s something better in the next corner? I can’t commit. I won’t know if this will quench my craving until I’ve checked out the other side. I’ve made that mistake before.
My phone keeps buzzing and I respond automatically, not really paying attention. Face pic? Sure here you go, unlocked for u. My stories are making you horny? Great to hear, and hey they’re fun to write lol. You have a car? Well that’s nice but I have a hotel room, much more fun. Lol haha and fuck he’s gonna be knocking at my door in 40 minutes.
When I finally look up, the people are gone and all around me are steely dark office buildings. Belly rumbling and full of butterflies, I let Google be my guide through the darkness.
On the way, I pick up a Starbucks to keep me going.
I make it back to my room in time to throw some water on my face and pick my socks off the floor before he knocks. Heart racing, I take a deep breath, smile and open the door.
He matches his picture. He stands in the hallway looking a little nervous.
“Come in,” I say, beaming. “I’m glad you could make it! Make yourself at home.”
He takes off his shoes and soon he’s standing in front of my bed, wearing nothing but a shirt, right red boxer briefs, and a hard on.
“Is this where it happened?” He asks, referring to my last story.
“Yeah, right here on the bed, he was watching TV for a while.” I tell him.
He’s a little shy. I smile and try to make him as comfortable as I can. “So, what were you thinking of doing today?” I run my hands over his tan legs.,
His eyes meet mine. “I’ve always wanted to cum in a guy’s mouth. But I’ve never found anyone with enough patience.”
“I’m glad you found me then.” My hands move to the thin cloth holding in his erection. I slowly stroke it, feeling it’s length. It yearns to spring out.
He relaxes and spreads his legs, and I finally gaze into his eyes. “Do you make out?” He asks.
I notice his lips are soft and thick. His skin was so smooth and soft. I lean over him, touch his lips with my finger, parting them slightly. I’m drawn to them.
I can feel his hot breath through his nose as we kiss. I’m aware that I have coffee breath but he doesn’t seem to mind. My hands make it down into his briefs and I wrap my fingers around his penis. When released from its fabric confines, it springs up, and he playfully bites into my lip. While our tongues fight for dominance I stroked him slowly along his length.
He’s breathing fast now through his nose as I end our long kiss. I lay back on the pillow beside him to have a look at my prize in hand. He’s cut. That’s all I have time to gather before he swings his leg over and gets on top of me, straddling my belly.
When grasps my shoulders and pulls himself up, I rejoice. He has been reading my stuff! I get comfortable against the headboard and open wide. He looks down at me, straight into my eyes as he carefully presses his dick into my waiting mouth. He thrusts gently at first, and I feel his perfectly sized dick squeezing toward my throat, teasing it but not cutting off my air. Size matters. I could do this forever.
Too soon he stops, moves away down over my legs. I follow the cock, eager to fill the void in my mouth. He sits on the bed and I lick his balls, moving further and further down, until I’m tonguing his smooth hole. He holds onto his knees and enjoys it.
“Sit on my face,” I tell him. I shuffle to the middle of the bed and lay face up, expecting him to settle over me. He does, but unlike the two men who have done so before, he faces my feet. Looking down his back, he gingerly lowers his ass over my face. I lick him earnestly, enjoying watching the reactions in his face.
He turns away, and I feel his hands reaching inside my pants, pulling out my own penis and stroking.
But we both know what he’s there for. Soon I’m chest down in front of him again as he lays back on the pillow.
“Do you have any porn on that TV?” He asks.
“No sorry – want to use my laptop?”
“It’s fine, I’ve got my phone.” He swipes a few times and soon, holding the phone with one hand, stares into some fantastic scene while I suck on him.
He moves his other hand to his penis, pushing me aside as he begins to stroke himself. Firmly, I take his hand and chastise him. “Patience! We have lots of time.”
I’m able to get him all the way into my throat, comfortably, and still breathe. Soon, I try some things I’ve never done. I make a wave with my tongue, sliding along the underside while swallowing, and he suddenly gasps. “Oh yeah keep doing that,” he says. His phone dangles unseen in his hand.
Gladly! I feel like I could suck his dick forever. I show him my excitement by repeating the movement, improving it with practice. All the while he moans delightfully. His hand restlessly squeezes his inner thigh, clearly unadapted to being so useless during such pleasure.
His other hand holds his phone out in front of him, but his eyes are closed. When he cums, it is unannounced. His chest arches to the ceiling and his pelvis thrusts up, trying to impale. With a gasp, his sperm gushes thickly through my closed lips, six, seven, eight spurts joining together into a delicous wad that fills my mouth. A moment later he makes a sound between a laugh and a cry of pain and jerks his body away from me. It’s over. His few raw nerves that remain, having been cut away at birth, leave no transition between the ecstasy of release and the pain thereafter. I glide his load around my mouth and swallow it thickly.
He leaves quickly, as one should, after uttering his heartfelt thanks. Me? I feel great. The tiredness of the day is gone.
It’s late now and my belly growls, so I order some cake from room service. It comes on a square plate, gooey with salted caramel. I decide to have my cake in bed, and I eat it slowly while I chat with my wife about our kids’ days on Facebook.