A Happy Hour

“I’ve done my homework. I’ve read everything you’ve written so far.”

The asian man sat beside me, one leg up on my king sized bed of the Hilton in Toronto. He’s small in stature, and wears a preppy checkered shirt. He looks young for a 34 year old, but he gazes at me with worldly confidence and readiness through his trendy square glasses.

“Do you write about every encounter?” he asks.

“Well, just the exciting ones, or ones with different settings. I don’t want to repeat myself too much. So you know what I like. But I don’t know anything about you. What do you like?”

“Well, you know a little,” he says. A few days before this, he’d followed me on Tumblr. He has a lot of interesting reposts of his own.  “My tumblr is mostly fantasy. Things I haven’t been able to find a guy willing to do.”

“Oh?”

He stands up and sheds his shirt. “I found one of your stories in particular very interesting…” he pauses, perhaps hoping I’d get the message. My eyes beg him to go on. “First, I want to try pissing down your throat.”

I stare at him, trying to appear aghast but I can’t. Instead I start to laugh. “Oh yeah! There’s no good way to say that, is there?” I excitedly duck into the bathroom and grab a white towel, spread it on the floor beside the bed.

He steps out of his pants, revealing bright purple pouch briefs, the words “BLOW!” boldly stitched across the waistband. He tosses his glasses on top of his shirt on the suitcase stand, and I fall to my knees in front of him.

“You don’t want to use the tub?” he asks, fingers slipping inside his briefs.

“Nah, we’ll be fine.” I can’t imagine my new buddy being as big, or rough, as my Indian friend. That time, I did need a tub.

He pulls out his penis, thankfully still flaccid, and I gently wrap my mouth around it, trying not to touch it. He stares down at me, incredulously, for long moment before I feel his cock pulse and let out a small amount of hot liquid.

Unlike the two others I’ve done, he didn’t drink much before this, so I get the full flavour. It’s new to me. He watches me as I slosh it around my mouth, enjoying the taste – like a hoppy beer – and swallow.

“You like that?” he asks in amazement. “Have some more.”

Satisfied that I can take it, he relaxes and pisses. I let it tickle my tongue, slosh around my mouth, waiting to the last second to close my lips around it and swallow. I enjoy every moment of it as he empties himself into me, filling me, allowing me to be his vessel. Five gulps later, and it’s done. I’ve consumed it all, and the towel is dry.

I’m staring at his uncut penis. His whole body is shaved smooth. Even under his arms had no more than a day’s growth of stubble. His balls were smallish, hanging from under an impressively sized cock. As I lick, it grows revealing what would be an interesting quirk – a slight curve to the left. I pressed forward, eliciting a gasp when it enters my throat.

“Not too fast. I’ve got other plans for you tonight. I’m going to sit down.” He pulls out, and walks along the room the the office chair in front of the small desk, and plunked his naked butt into it, spinning it around to face me. Then he loops his arms around his legs and pulls them into the air.  “Do you like rimming?” he asks, pointing his impossibly smooth anus up at me.

“I’ve done it once, it was fun,” I tell him. I kneel down in front of the chair and give him a doggy lick. But the chair is too low to the ground and I’m having trouble getting the right angle.

“Get on the bed,” he orders. “I’ll just sit on your face. You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

“Yes!” I quickly gather the hotel cards from the pillows, fling them against the wall, and lay down on my back. He gets on the bed and squats over my mouth. All I see are his balls, cock, and face staring at me intently, as he gingerly lowers his anus to my mouth. I poke up at it with my tongue, swirl up, and then press inside. I see an instant reaction on his face. This is fun.

He’s being too gentle, though. I reach up and pull his hips down, forcing him to smother my mouth with his ass. He gets the idea and lets down his weight, and I sink into the pillow-top mattress, as I trace circles around his pucker with my tongue.

By now his cock is a full 6” and the red head peeks out of its brown covers. He steps off onto the floor. “Slide over,” he tells me. “Lean your head off the bed.”

My heart flutters. Soon I”m staring up into his perineum, holding my mouth open. He slides in, gently at first.

“You OK?” he asks.

“Yes–” I start, muffled.

He grabs my arms and slowly pulls himself forward, all the way in, and holds it there. I feel my airways close up. He stands there with his dick in my throat, perfectly still as the seconds tick by. “When you need to breath, just tap me,” he says.

I give his left cheek two quick taps. He obliges, pulling out, and I suck in a swimmer’s breath.

This time, when he plunges forward, I feel his fingers lightly touching my throat. I imagine him there, grinning, fascinated by the distended outline of his own dick through my skin.

That’s when he starts to fuck. Ever so slightly, he nudges his cock back and forth a little. I concentrate on not vomiting.  All I can do is stare through his inner thighs at the textured wallpaper behind him.

Just when I reach all I can take, he pulls out, and settles onto the middle of my bed, flat on his back, melting into the lucious pillows. “These are so comfy. Are you crying yet?” he asks, smiling.

“No I’m fine,” I tell him, quickly wiping the tears off my cheek.

I quickly get between his legs on my belly and engulf his penis between my lips. He lets out a slow, relaxed sigh. “Good boy,” he says. When I keep sucking, he stops me, grabs my chin and makes me look at him. “When I say ‘Good boy’, you then say ‘Thank-you sir.’ Do you understand?”
“Thank-you sir,” I tell him.

“You learn fast. That’s good.” He put his arms behind his head. “Now go get me a glass of water. I’m parched.”

I look around the room, for which I paid $209, and quickly find the glass. I tear off the plastic wrap and fill it with tap water in the bathroom sink.

I hear him call after me. “And hand me the remote. I’m going to watch some TV while you suck my dick. Would you like that?” He answers himself. “Yeah. I know you would, cocksucker.”

He’s cocky for sure. It excites me. I thought he’d be gone in 10 minutes, and I’d be able to catch some much needed sleep. But now I’m awake, excited by our time together. I grab the remote on the way back and offer it him. “Here you are, kind sir.” I only hope he doesn’t order costly porn.

I lay perpendicular to him now, my head on his belly, so I can see the TV a little and work his cock with my mouth at the same time. He ignores me, flipping channels.

The TV blasts out, “Scandal rocks Hollywood today– brewing in the middle east– For 30% of the company.” He settles on a rerun of Shark Tank. Nice, we have similar tastes.

We watch as the sharks eviscerate the business prospects of two women. As they argue, he starts to instruct me. “Put your tongue around the head,” he says. “Try it without your lips…. Lick the bottom of the foreskin.” He gives specific instructions of what he wants. “Good boy.”

Slurp. “Thank-you sir.”

He looks at me, eyes narrowing. “Now I want you to suck on my toes for a while,” he says.

What?

“Yeah,” he says, wiggling them at me. “Get down there and suck. And give me a foot rub.” He  stares at me, or the TV, while I kneel on the floor in front of the bed. I cringe, thinking of foot fungus, but a moment later, I lock my eyes on his face, and suck on his big toe. It turns out that sucking appendages is a transferable skill, and I quickly get into it. I stare at his cock, projecting my intense hunger, as I do it.

“Do the other piggies too. They’re lonely,” he tells me, giving them a wiggle.

I do so, but after giving them equal time, I lunge forward onto my belly. I lick his perineum, then move down, pushing his legs up. “Oh yeah,” he says. He grabs a pillow, stuffs it under his lower back, and rolls his ass hole up to me once again. “Good boy. Lick my ass.”

“Thank-you sir.” I say, and I begin. He’s slick with my saliva, and I start to give it wet kisses, and soon I’m making out with his ass, sucking and flicking my tougue at it. A few minutes later, he gives out a low, guttural moan.

“Come here and look what you did,” he says. I get up on my arms and we stare at his cock. A spurt of precum has emerged. “Better not waste it,” he admonishes. I bend over him and lap it up.

I get beside him again, and rest my head on his belly button, and slowly suck on his slippery red cock head. On the flatscreen, the next set of entrepreneurs are almost done their pitch and I lose myself in the show for a while. I feel him slowly stroking my scalp.

During the commercials, he occasionally starts to thrust, holding my head in place. It is then that I see the advantage of his uniquely curved dick. From the side, it slides in perfectly and he;s able to fuck my throat with ease. He does this for only a few seconds, whenever the need arises, and then rests, leaving the work up to me.

He gives more instructions. “Use your hand to bring the foreskin up, get your tongue in between the skin and the head. Yeah, good boy,” he says.

“Thank you sir”

“Use your left hand to massage my balls. Oh yes,” he says, and lets out another low gutteral purr. “I can feel my cum building up. In a little while I’m going to cum down your throat. And in your mouth so you get to taste it all. You will love my sweet cum,” he says. My hands are doing the work most of the  now, stroking, so I steal quick glances up at him. He’s not even watching the TV any more. He is in heaven, raw exctasy in his half closed eyes.

Suddenly he grabs my head, wrenching it away and off of him. He lets out a slow ragged breath. I stare into his eyes, and stretch my tongue out eagerly at his throbbing cock head. After a moment, I slowly start again, sticking my tongue in the slit, savouring the delicous salty flavour of his essense.

His control is impressive, and he starts to channel flip again while I suck. “How does your mouth feel?” He asks

“It’s very happy,” I tell him. The thought of it ending now is unbearable. I want to lay here, my head on his belly, sucking his dick, as long as I can, with him softly stroking my head and flipping through shows on my TV. And that’s what we do. I lose all  track of time as I suck him, and stroke him. I’m interrupted only with the exciting moments when he grabs my head and mouth fucks me before relaxing again.

His low, purrs are getting more frequent now, and his demands that I slow down are getting weaker. “I’m so close, I can feel it,” he tells me. He strokes my scalp, sending shivers through my body. “You’ve definitely earned your reward. You should be proud. This is the longest blowjob I’ve ever had.”

More moans. His body is on fire now. “Let go of my balls, so I can get it in your throat when it’s time,” he says.He’s thrusting, doing the work now, and his moans get louder. “Get ready,” he says, and before the words are out, he explodes onto my tongue. He screams out, and I feel like the entire floor will hear him. He never stops thrusting, and one joyful hour’s worth of cum ends up down my throat and all throughout my mouth, like delicious salty caramel coating.

When he is done, he can’t ,or won’t move from his spot in the centre of my bed, so I lay on my side and slowly caress his chest and abdomen, over and over. We spend many minutes like this.  I’m addicted to the feeling of the hard muscles with barely any covering.

“Are you going to write about that?” he asks, eyes hopeful. “I tried to make new and different for you.”

I grin, as I realize who was the real master today. “Absolutely.”

Danger House

The rain’s been pelting my wind shield for an hour when I finally pull up to his suburban street. I almost drive right past him under the streetlights. The tall asian twenty-something huddles in his black wind breaker beside the stop sign. I wave. He gets in my car.

“Hey.” he says.

“Hey,” I tell him. Grindr in real life.

I have no inkling where I am. Earlier in the day I installed FakeGps on my phone, so I could set this up in the afternoon. Luckily, this guy was free at the time I would be passing through. He couldn’t host, but he knew a place we could go. It sounded sketchy and dangerous.

I agreed immediately.

He directs me down the slick streets through the night. My wind shield wipers give way to the downpour, and I can’t even make out the lane markings on the dark country roads. We get to an intersection blocked by an orange detour sign.

“It’s back there. Just keep going. There’s no other houses or anyone around for miles.”

“Okay…” I drive the car on the shoulder and around the sign. Gravel crackles under my tires. After about a kilometre, I slow down. The street ends and we can go no further. I see a construction trailer on the side of the road. It’s set up in the driveway of a small brick house. I pull into the small space left beside the trailer. As I turn off the car, my car door swings shut. He’s already gone.

I grab my phone, lock up, and chase him through the pouring rain. I can barely make out the path in the darkness.

He’s waiting at the top of the porch. He kicks the door and it flings open, loudly bouncing against the door jamb. It’s pitch black and with a step he disappears inside. I take a deep breath and follow, eager to get out of the rain.

His phone lights up the place, casting long shadows. I’m in the X-Files. The house has been stripped of all life. The only thing left are the ghostly silk curtains, forgotten and mournfully swaying over the hardwood floor in the living room.

“This whole place is going to be torn down soon,” he explains.

“Um, aren’t there usually hobos sleeping in these places?”

“My friend moved out a couple weeks ago. I don’t think anyone has found it yet. Watch your step.”

We descend the damp, carpeted steps into the basement, and shards of plaster crunch under my wet shoes. I look up. The ceiling has been bashed in and bare electrical wires dangle an inch from my face.

We turn the corner into a large room with the remains of a fireplace. This was once a cosy den. Years ago, some child must have waited here with excitement for Santa, baiting him with milk and cookies by the crackling fire. Today, the floor is covered in detritus and bits of drywall. A small roach meanders along a huge crack in the wall.

He puts his phone on the baseboard, carefully pointing it away from the window. The tiny LED fills the room with creepy shadows. Without pausing, he unbuckles and strips off his pants and underwear.

He lays back on the floor, naked from the waist down, puts his hands behind his head and looks at me expectantly. His flaccid brown penis flops down over his large nut-sack. They’ve been shaved smooth for me.

“I’ll start slow,” I tell him.

“Sure. We’ve got lots of time.”

I lay on my belly, resting my arms on the carpet between his legs. I lick his balls and taste nothing. He’s had plenty of time to shower. I take his dick in my mouth and slowly suck. I let go, and we watch it grow hard.

My own boner rubs the floor through my jeans. It feels very nice, and I hump the carpet while I suck him off. He doesn’t make much noise, but I can tell by his face that he’s enjoying it.

“Where should I cum?” he asks me.

“Right here,” I stick out my tongue, to show him it’s alright, and then get back to twisting and sucking his penis. He tightens his muscles, and it flexes and hardens. It turns me on. He’s a quiet one. I have no idea how far along he is, or if he’s enjoying it at all. I know I am. I live for this. Sucking a nice, fat cock has been my dream since I was a teenager.

“I think I’m coming,” he warns me. I feel a hot jet of his jizz shoot against middle of my tongue. It’s a nice, thick glob, and it doesn’t taste like anything. I roll it across my tongue as I gently suck him clean.

On the way back we talk. “Once I had a guy sucking on me for 20 minutes,” he relates, “and nothing was happening. But he wasn’t good like you.”

Well, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Studying anatomy and sensitivity diagrams on wikipedia. Porn too, but half the time they don’t know what they’re doing.

“When are you in town again?” he asks.

Soon, I hope.

There and Back Again, In Toronto

So I’m walking around Toronto doing some shopping today. Shopping for cock. I park at the Hyatt Regency and sit in the Starbucks, turn on my favourite app.

Wow. Within about 30 seconds I get five messages. None look appealing though. I’m spoiled living in University town with its abundant youth. I put the phone away and stroll to the eaton’s center for some new shirts. I pick up a couple Raw-Edge V-Neck Tees (2/$39, Guess).

But the exciting part comes a little farther… Spa Excess and Steamworks, the two most well known bathhouses are here. I walk past the thick door of spa excess. Two guys are within 20m of me, they must be inside. I’m too chicken to go in. Same with Steamworks. Instead, I eat at Subway, staring out into Church street, and Grindr.

“How dangerous is Steamworks?” I ask.

“All these dirty places!” someone replies, and blocks me.

A grey-bearded guy is more helpful. “All I’m saying is that some guys don’t disclose their status,” he says, and invites me up to his apartment down the street where I can blow him. I decline, saying I’ve gotta eat lunch first.

I’d be disappointed if I left TO without going in. I resolve to do it with a compromise: I just won’t touch anybody. I slink back to Spa Excess and wrench open the doors, expecting to see an orgy. Instead there’s some stairs going up. I carefully ascend them, silently, ducking back so the cashier or whatever wouldn’t notice me if I turned around and fled.

There’s a window in the wall beside the door. “What do I have to do?” I squeak at the cashier. I pay $6 and leave my grad student card with him, and he lets me in. Staring at the floor, I stride to the stairwell and go down, then up, looking for the locker room. It was a quite a locker room, a beautiful site to behold with coloured light emanating from somewhere in the darkness. I change quickly and slam the door shut, hanging my key on my wrist.

Down a flight is the jacuzzi tub. Well, I have to go in. I’m here. So I shower, staring straight at the wall and sit down with two other old guys. I watch some vintage porn on the flat screen for a while, until I’m relaxed, then I get up to explore some more.

It’s easy to not touch anyone here. At 1pm on Saturday there’s only like 10 guys here. I find the maze and wander around it, moving quickly past anyone as they reach for me. The maze snakes around a bathroom, and includes a viewing couch looking straight through one-way glass toward a trough urinal. That would be hot, if anyone was there. I’m a fan of watersports.

I decide to end my trip at the bar. I grab a $9 long island iced tea, and sit on the couch near the TV. It’s playing classic movies. Behind me a toweled asian guy sits at a table using his laptop. I read on my phone, sipping the alcohol, and I feel totally relaxed. This is not a bad place to visit.

Later on I make my way through Toronto back to my parking space. On Grindr, the streets are an ever changing sea. There are so many choices. But no bites. I make it all the way back to the hotel and sit in the lobby. It’s too early to go home.

I see a guy on Grindr. We exchange pics.

He’s asian, he looks OK and will let me blow him. He can host right now in his hotel room at the Marriot around the block. “10 mins” I tell him.

When I get to his door my heart is pounding. WTF am I doing. I should turn back. Instead I rap on his door.

He’s in his underwear already, watching TV. We introduce ourselves and he offers me some water. “You’re so formal,” he says, smiling incredulously.

“Do you do this often?” I ask. Not too often, he says. I tell him he’s my #5. “Five today?” I shook my head. “Five in your life?!” Yup. So tell me if I’m doing something wrong.

We go to the bedroom and strip, laying on the bed. Cuddling’s still weird for me, I tell him, and reach for his crotch. He obliges, discarding his black briefs. A beautiful, cut cock, a drop of precum already at its tip. I lick it up and make him sit on the edge of the bed. His penis fits comfortably in my mouth. I’m relaxed, and go for a while. He can’t believe how into it I am. I’m like a starving man on sausage. Eventually he ends up standing against the wall, thrusting into my face when I feel several squirts of salty cum land on my tongue. I show it to him before swallowing it down.

“You’re very good at this,” he tells me, stroking my hair. He’s never cum from just a blowjob before.

Later he messages. If I’m ever in TO again, let him know. Yay, a job well done.