Woke up with my mind already in the gutter; thoughts were roiling through my sleep-addled state like I’d walked into the middle of a movie… but it wasn’t like even in this state I didn’t know what the movie was about.
I don’t remember having any salacious dreams that I could blame this… unauthorized trip to the gutter but I was remembering a conversation with a guy I first met online and him asking me what I expected of him when we met to suck each other off… and me being reminded of how… literal-minded I can be at times because I had answered him, “Uh, I expect you to suck my dick; was there something else we need to talk about?”
I’m staring in the mirror and cleaning the sleep out of my eyes and I’m frowning over giving him such an answer and more so when I understood – all late and wrong – that he wanted to have a little phone sex prior to our meeting in an hour. I was too busy dealing with the famous Listerine tingle in my mouth to remember if I entertained him in this but I’m sure that I may not have because phone sex, to me, is “counterproductive” since instead of talking about what we can do to each other, let’s just do it.
I’m panting like a dog in heat trying to “cool” my tongue off after spitting out the Listerine and if I wasn’t awake before, I am now. That tingle is no joke. My brain reengages and drops me off at the part of the conversation when he was asking me if there was a particular or specific way I wanted to be sucked and one part of me understood the question but another part of me didn’t and “chastised” the part that did understand because, okay, look: If you’re going to blow me, you’re going to do it the way you know how to suck dick and with making adjustments as necessary. There’s technique, of course, but that’s something everyone who sucks dick winds up developing and maybe even mastering and, well, I didn’t see the sense of his question and more so when that literal part of my mind suggested that if I were to have… specifications for how I wanted my dick sucked, no one would want to do that to and for me and if a guy laid such specifications on me, nope – he might get his dick sucked but I won’t be doing it.
I asked the part of my mind that was supposed to be restricting entry into the gutter at this point in my day (and totally failed to do that), “Where are you going with this?” while trying not to get soap in my eyes as I washed my face. As an aside, I’m also still trying to decide if I really like the Dove soap for men that smells like sage; it’s supposed to be a manly scent but when I smell sage, I think turkey and stuffing. Anyway, I meet with the guy after a brief discussion about why I thought we should split the cost of the hotel room and him making a case for why he should cover the whole cost. The room is nice and in a nice hotel… and I remembered having a thought that at least neither one of us would have to worry about a roach crawling on us had he selected a no-tell motel. Now, I’d never had that happen but I’d heard stories…
If I had to describe “Hank,” he was middle-aged and unassuming, the kind of guy that if you saw him, you’d forget that you did because there was nothing about him that would stand out in your mind. He was just an everyday and average kind of guy. Perhaps a few pounds heavier than he wanted to be and he was very nervous. This wasn’t his first rodeo but, okay, I understood his nervousness because I was as well – I just did a better job of hiding it than he was doing. He had a nice smile that reflected in his eyes and I had noticed that as we stood in the nicely appointed room and very much in that awkward “pregnant pause” moment and waiting for someone to do… something other than just stand there.
He’s nattering his thanks (again) for agreeing to meet with him and I deemed that he was genuinely expressing himself but while he’s doing that, I’m debating with myself to either undress first or be “bold” and undress him… and decided to strip him bare because, well, why not? Hank got this… surprised look on his face as I stepped closer to him and started going after the buttons on his shirt. He appeared to be shocked and fixed in place as I efficiently stripped him down to his birthday suit and neatly folding his clothes as I did so to place them on one of the side chairs. I’m sure he’d never had anyone do this to him before and, well, he was… cute. Blushing deeply red. His dick hard and standing proudly and waiting to be saluted. Good.
He muttered something that I didn’t pay any attention to as I started undressing. I’m deliberately not looking at him; I remembered the last guy I looked at while I was getting undressed and how he said my very intense gaze unnerved him and made him feel afraid. Not my intent, of course but, yeah, given what I was thinking about doing to his dick, he was right to be afraid. But, nope – not looking at Hank but I can feel his eyes on me. I hear him mutter, “Damn…” and I’m not sure why he did. I finally finish undressing and setting my clothes aside and turn to look at him.
If I had shouted, “Boo!” Hank might have jumped out of his skin. His whole body is flushed so red that he looked like he’d gotten a sunburn and I’m momentarily concerned because he was still rooted in place so I kinda wave to him and said, “Come on over here…” He takes three steps toward me and I uncharacteristically reach out and hug him. I think this, too, surprised him because it took a good second before he wrapped his arms around me and returned the hug.
I’m puttering around in the kitchen and my mind is deep into this guttery moment. I suspected that Hank was intimidated and the hug was “designed” to put him at ease; I’d whispered in his ear, “I’m glad I could be here with you…” I leaned back so I could look into his eyes – and I almost laughed because I knew he thought I was going to kiss him and, honestly, I did think about it for two or three slices of a microsecond but I didn’t. I stepped back and guided him to the bed and he automatically sat, then laid down… and let the feasting begin.
During our pre-meeting talk, Hank had expressed a “concern” to not just jump right into sucking and as, in the here and now I’m looking out of the window… because it was there, I couldn’t remember why he had expressed this but I did remember telling him not to worry about that. I’ve got him on the bed and I’m all over him but not in an aggressive sort of way as I start with his neck and ears and start working my way down his body; I stopped at his nipples and do a number on them because, well, I like nipples. I’m in close contact with his body and I can feel his body heat… and he’s fever hot. He’s kinda got his hands fluttering here and there on me as I work my way down to his navel and start doing a number on that because, like a man’s nipples, little attention is every paid to someone’s navel which is literally connected to the core of one’s body.
I’m remembering the smile I had on my face at this point. Hank is totally disarmed at this point; he’s 100% at my mercy and I knew that I could do anything I wanted to. Anything. But, I’m not that guy and continue to lick and kiss my way down to his crotch. I bypass his dick and the huge drop of pre-cum at the slit and in favor of checking out the inside of his thighs; I remember how his legs just automatically spread wider so I could get at his inner thighs which allowed me to also settle in between his legs. The heat wafting off of his crotch was… impressive and I remember having the silly thought that he was so hot that I could have cooked an egg. I stifled the laugh I’d felt coming so I could finally do what I came here to do.
I took Hank’s dick down to the bone in one fell swoop; I felt him tense for a moment, then relax. I held him there and just letting my tongue do whatever it felt like doing. He felt good in my mouth; he tasted good and clean; his very musky scent was quite pleasant. I cupped his balls and, in an instant, I felt his dick swell in my mouth, heard him say, “Oh, no…” and my mouth was getting filled with his cum. Well, damn. I wasn’t disappointed or anything like that and, in fact, I wasn’t feeling anything other than basking in feeling his dick shuddering deep in my mouth and swallowing every drop of cum he had. I did think that, in a way, by cumming now, he saved himself from the “vicious” sucking I was preparing to give him.
He’s done and I release him; I look up at him and, yep, he’s got that look on his face that let me know how embarrassed he was because he came too fast. He was about to apologize but I cut him off by saying, “Don’t. No need to apologize. Nothing to worry about and unless you want to leave, we’ve got time to do this again, okay?”
Hank nods and finds his voice. “That… that was, damn, Jesus Christ! Where did you learn how to do this?”
I laughed and said, “I’ve been doing this since I was nine so I’ve learned some stuff along the way. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, um, yeah, I’m okay,” he says. “Can I suck you now?”
“Please do,” I said, getting up from between his legs and rolling over onto my back. The thing I liked about Hank was that he actually started doing to me what I’d done to him and it was… cute because he was so… tentative about it. He’d gotten to my nipples and it was like he wasn’t sure what to do with them but after a few licks, he figured it out and so much that I cradled his head against me as he sucked my nipples. He did make a stop at my navel, which was nice, before bypassing my legs and going right after my dick.
He wasn’t of a mind to go slow. I could have asked him to slow down but I’ve always been of a mind to let a guy suck me the way he knows how to and according to how he’s feeling; unless his teeth started to bother me, I was content to let him do what he wanted. I was impressed that he didn’t try to take me deep; that told me that, if nothing else, he knew his limits. I’m now sitting at my computer and opening WordPress so I can write this down before I forget it and thinking about the times where a guy tried to deep throat me… and barfed. Ew.
Hank gets to sucking my balls and a bit too hard so I say to him, “Not so hard…” He lightens up and continues to suck them while holding my dick in a grip that was just a bit too tight but not unbearable and not worth saying anything to him about it. He goes back to sucking me and I’m liking how he’s using his tongue and really liking how he’s getting into it. He’s getting me to the edge and I’m immersed in the moment but not so much that I couldn’t warn him that I was gonna cum… because it’s just polite to do that when someone is sucking me for the first time. He didn’t stop but picked up the pace, sucking hard on my knob while furiously jerking on my shaft and… I cum. The sensations are swamping me into near incoherence and I’m dimly aware that I have my hands on his head and fucking into his mouth.
Damn, that was good. He was good. When he finally let go of me and looked up, I let him know that it was damned good and before he asked… and I somehow knew that he would. Big sigh. He stretches out alongside me and we’re… talking. He’s complimenting me and I’m returning the sentiment and genuinely so and we’re not exactly cuddling but lying very close to each other and that’s fine… because there’s a clock running in my head and counting down to the moment when I’m going to suck Hank’s dick again.
No “playing around.” I’m going to get after it and do the things I didn’t get a chance to do the first time. The internal timer runs out and I start to move; I take a moment to look into his eyes and I remember smiling at him and, perhaps, in a way that might have told him that he was in “trouble” because he had that “deer in the headlights” look for a moment… and I got right to it. I was… impressed. I didn’t have to ease him into an erection and as I thought I’d have to; I actually like sucking a guy’s cock when it’s soft and feeling him getting hard again in my mouth and Hank got hard in “record time.”
Good. I’m remembering that I showed him no mercy. None. I’d let my “inner cocksucking whore” out to play and “she” took the full measure of Hank. I had gently shoved my middle finger into his ass; he resisted, at first and tried to close his legs but since I was parked between them, yeah, he could do that so he relaxed and the rest of my finger went into him and started searching for his prostate. I can hear him vocalizing. He’s surprised by my… violation but muttering about how good it felt and that I shouldn’t stop.
And like I was going to. We hadn’t agreed to anal sex but at this point – and now that my probing finger found what it was looking for, I knew I owned him. If I had wanted to fuck him, I could have but that’s not what we agreed to. Yeah, we didn’t talk about fingers in the butt – and if he had really protested, I would have immediately withdrawn but, um, since he didn’t…
I was 100% in the moment. Nothing else existed other than my mouth on his dick and my finger “tickling” his prostate. I could feel his anal muscles clamping down and quivering against my finger and in sync with the tremors racing along his shaft. He’s got a grip on my head and something that I rarely allow a guy to do as he’s fucking into my mouth as if his life depended on it… which was my “evil” intent in the first place.
He lets out this… groan that sent chills all through me and his cock swells… and hot cum is spurting into my mouth and this time, there’s a lot of it. His anal muscles are clamping down on my finger so hard – and in time with his spurts – that my finger’s hurting but I stay the course just the same and gulp down every drop he had to offer and only now thinking that, hmm, his stuff tastes pretty good. He finally stops cumming; I gently remove my finger but I’ve not yet let go of his dick… because it feels so good in my mouth that I’m contemplating just keeping it going even though I was 99% sure he wouldn’t be able to bear up under it after busting such a big nut. As such, I should let him go…
And I didn’t. I “ignored” his questions of, “What are you doing?” Well, Hank, my man, what do you think I’m doing? My very gay lover taught me to how to suck a guy’s dick after he cums and how to avoid the head of the guy’s dick and it was a lesson I was very happy to learn… and use on poor Hank. Oh, yes – he’s about to catch a very bad break because the cocksucking Beast within me found his cock to its liking and Hank’s cum to be very tasty and “nourishing…” and it wanted more.
Yes. Resistance is futile, Hank. I’m remembering this moment and on the one hand, I feel… bad for doing this to Hank… and I don’t and didn’t. I was nearly mindless. Letting my lust run the show. Enjoying the fact that I spent a whole twenty minutes gently sucking his cock until it started getting hard again… and then the Beast bade me to take off the kid gloves and wreck shop on Hank.
We did that. Had to use one hand on his stomach to hold him down while the Beast and I ravaged him. As an afterthought, yeah, I felt bad about it; he was totally helpless but I was too deep in the moment to care. His dick felt amazing in my mouth; nearly a “perfect fit.” I needed his cum again and I wasn’t going to stop until I got it again. He gave it up to me, too, and it wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter. I gorged myself on what cum he had left to give and when he gave it and could give no more, only then did I let go of him because the “nice guy” I normally am reasserted control of the situation. I started to apologize to Hank… but he was, um, taking a nap.
We didn’t do anything else. He did apologize for not being in any shape to suck me again but I told him that was okay because I had jerked off while I was, um, doing a number on him and, oh, yeah, I am sorry about that but not really. We showered, got dressed and as we went on about our separate ways, he said that he’d call me later.
To be honest, I didn’t expect him to but, how ’bout that? He did and the first thing he said after I said, “Hello?” was, “You’re one scary son-of-a-bitch!” followed by how much he enjoyed what we’d done but how much my intensity unnerved him.
“You could have done anything you wanted to me… but you didn’t. Why?” he asked.
“Because we didn’t agree to anything other than what we agreed to,” the literal part of my mind had me say. I knew I could have but I’m honorable, well, to a point – I don’t always play fair and I knew I would feel like a heel if I’d fucked him and even when he was saying that he wouldn’t have objected if I had fucked him… and he’d never been fucked before. What was I that I could make him feel that way?
“I’m just… me,” I had said. He had wanted to know if I was like this with every guy and I said that I wasn’t, but he was… different. He wanted to know what that difference was and even as I sit here typing this, I couldn’t really say but what I did say – that I loved the way his dick felt in my mouth – well, I felt – and feel now – that it wasn’t that good of an answer.
“I want to meet up with you again… but you’re scary. In a good way but still scary. I’ve never felt the way you made me feel before,” he said, and I could hear the truth in his words. One part of me felt bad and another part was “laughing evilly” and not feeling bad at all.
“Okay, sure, if you want to,” I said. “If we do, this time, I’ll pick the place and pay for it.”
“Okay but I’m still not sure if I really want to,” he said.
“May I ask why?” I asked – because I really wanted to know.
“Because I’m afraid of what I’d let you do to me,” he said.
“And that is?” I asked – but I didn’t need to because I knew what that was.
“I’m afraid that I’ll let you fuck me… and that I’ll want you to,” he confirmed.
“Look, um, I’m not the kind of guy who’d go against an agreement,” I said. “See, it’s one thing if we agreed to it; it’s one thing to be in the heat of the moment and, um, shit happens but it’s one of those things where it’d be cool if there was that… awareness that it was okay for shit to happen, if you know what I mean. Like, okay, we’re talking. If you said that you wanted me to fuck you when we meet again, okay, we’ll talk about that and if we’re in agreement, that’s what we’ll do. I’m not sure I like the thought that you’re afraid of me and something is going to happen that, realistically, you don’t want to happen and I’m not in the habit of making guys do something they don’t want to do.”
I heard him sigh and it sounded like one of great relief. There was a long moment of silence and just as I was about to ask if he was still there, he said, “Yeah… I think you can get this ass and I think you should.”
We met at the place of my choosing a couple of days later. It was… intense but I wasn’t the origin of the intensity. My mind is still deep in the gutter thinking about how he sucked me and then how he was when I impaled him on my dick. He was… frenetic. I thought he was totally out of control and, later, he would admit that he was and that he liked it. It was so good for him to just go for it and not hold back whatever was going on inside of him.
I’m remembering the look on his face when I came inside of him. I remember him saying, “So that’s what it feels like…” I remember offering my ass to him and felt… somewhat disappointed that he turned it down.
“I’d rather feel you inside of me again,” he had said as we showered together.
He felt me inside of him again in the shower. I’m really not a fan of fucking guys but it felt… right with Hank. Hey, as long as he was happy and satisfied, that’s what really mattered.
I wonder how he’s doing. Things worked out to make it difficult for us to meet up again. C’est la vie. Not only does shit not happen but life does keep right on happening.
The door to the gutter has finally closed. I liked being with Hank. I have a now-fading memory of him saying that being with me changed the way he looked at being bisexual and how I showed him how much he was holding himself back and not being in the moment of things. That and I taught him some stuff about nipples and navels that he was gonna steal and he was definitely going to rip me off for that finger on the prostate thing that he hadn’t know about before… or that he even had a prostate.
Good stuff. “Nasty” gutter stuff. I’m laughing to think that my mind just doesn’t get all into the gutter: My mind owns it and it likes to remind me that it does and, well, just goes there even when I’m not even thinking like that and especially the moment I wake up and get out of bed.
Welcome to what it’s like to be inside my head…