The Way to a Man's Heart (is Up His Ass) - part 2 and 3

 

(Texts sent to a fellow pervert - one of my alpha readers. That's how this whole thing started - I chat with various friends, sending them the off-the-cuff versions of the stories. Then, some of the time I lift it pretty cleanly from the texts, with minimal editing; sometimes I get caught up in some idea or concept and kind of rhapsodize about it for a bit - but the skeleton of the conversation is pulled from a series of chat windows most of the time.)

I have so much I haven't written down. But at least with dropping it in like this, it has some storytelling value... I want to make you go "Ewwww, wow, that's awesome," and I say things that I know will probably turn you (and the "audience you") on... but also tell you a story that almost always has more meaning for me than just the fuck. And there are like four or five posts shuffling around in my head that have that kind of meaningful intensity. I also need to remember to write about Big Jay. Because, holy FUCK. But it's really gotten to the point where I have so much backlog that I'm going to start feeling like I can't have another intense, novel-worthy encounter, until I get some of the  queue cleared. 

And that really does happen for me... particularly with ones where I got smoking hot video (and that is DEFINITELY the case with some of the stuff from Tuesday) - and I really feel like I have to write it properly, to do it justice, because some of these videos are pretty good, for me - I mean, I feel the energy and the connection watching them, and you can HEAR me gagging hard and sucking air around that monster cock.... WOW, he was fun. I wish I'd had like two hours with him. 

And sometimes it ends up in this... you know those three-word puzzles on some game show, where the first two words are one phrase, and the last two words are a different phrase, and the middle word goes to both of them? Like, you'll get green bean dip, because green bean and bean dip, or car window dressing. Anyway. There's kind of a cognitive drop, like between the first pair and the second pair, and you have to let go of the trapeze midair to make it work. And if I can't get the space opened up, the next story can't slot in properly. Or I just have to forget some of it. That's part of what this blog is, for me - because I can't remember some of the time what happens. My mind goes white. If I make notes and write posts and take videos, there's this trail of breadcrumbs back to that night, and it helps keep that part of my mind whole. It's like paving the trails. I get this sensation that I've got ideas that I'm right on the edge of losing, like I can only hold so much in my bare hands, and I'm not allowed to have a backpack... and so I kind of lose some of my creative edge. Which is what makes it fun for me. 

Anyway. It will make more sense, if you've recently read that other post about the Latino boy [which I can't seem to find right now... will keep looking]. This is the same boy that I fucked in the throat as I dictated encounter notes to you. Which I didn't get written up. But that same guy who I was fucking in a circle of guys who were spitting on him and calling him faggot... he was slick as a greased pig, and I had been fucking him in the throat so much I slimed his face with it, and down to my knees... that guy. He shows up again last week, after the part with Real Daddy Steve. And that's where this picks back up. So, this is halfway through the night. I've had an absolutely mind-blowing Tantric orgasm, the big one, with four or five little ones building up to it - and this is right after I had taught sweet handsome Steve how to find the prostate, which was right after the part where I showed him all about HIS prostate, and did things that he's never had done to him before, and half a dozen guys stood and watched because he was a fucking SHOW. So.... that night. It's been, already, pretty stellar. 

I'm not entirely sure if I'll be able to get off again. I'm in that hazy, happy, don't-really-care daze you get when you've had an hour and a half of REALLY intense sex with a super hot guy with an eight inch dick not quite as thick as my wrist... I mean, it was GOOD. "It's hard to overstate my satisfaction." 

But. 

It's still early in the night. I am still pleasantly stoned, and watching guys playing around, I'm hard again... and then I see this tight little Latin guy who I know is fun to fuck, and he'll let me take some video, as long as the finished thing doesn't show his face or his tattoo. I THINK I sent you these videos before, but just in case - it was a PAIN IN THE ASS to redact, because the mirror kept catching faces, and he doesn't want to wear a mask, he just doesn't want his face in it. And, I get it... but we're gonna have a mask next time, or just do close-shots on known factors without faces. Which I did some of, too. 

Anyway. He runs into me in the maze, and tells me he needs some spanking, please, Sir. He says on the table, and I start to head to the Lazy Susan, but he's moving over toward the bench. And then I realize - and put him in the little stocks, kneeling up on the bench. I show him how the loop grips work - I wish more places had those, like I wish you could order them from Mr. S. or something, and maybe I just don't know the right place... but they're a loop of leather with a twist in them, and it makes this little natural soft grip that will allow you to struggle just as hard as you want... but then you move upward and loosen it, and you're free. They're really ingenious. I love having a boy in them. So, he kneels up, puts his hands in the straps, and I start spanking his ass. Right hand, left hand, both hands together, several hard fast ones and then a BIG one... keeping him slightly off-guard and off-balance, striking right, left, right, left, SURPRISE, it's your left ribcage this time... that kind of thing. A nice, playful erotic spanking. We both enjoy it, and it makes an amazing show in the half-light, the red shadows everywhere... it's like the Republican version of hell. 

And.... I become more and more aware with the culture wars, that I may end up being the target of some intense "This is pure FILTH!" type scrutiny... but I dare them to disagree with some of the public health stuff, and not come off as just "I don't like it, Jesus book says no, you bad, on the cross now," and there will be this massive Pornfire of the Vanities, and they'll have some high-haired holy roller who gets the spirit and put your hand over mine, ON the television screen, I love you, God loves you, you're not worthless, Suzanne, you MATTER to me, and you matter to GOD.... and then she gets too close to the people whose literary and video work is being burned in a great big pile, and a little flying cinder catches in her cotton-candy-colored wig, and she's dancing around trying to put it out. Wow, THAT went like halfway between Praise the Lord and Hunger Games... but that's what I'm picturing, is that super-affected overly-made-up version of Jesus Camp For Everybody, the kind where they lock your room. I talked to a guy whose parents sent him to one of those conversion camps, but it was run buy a bunch of bad men who were not only preying on the boys, but also selling them into sex slavery, human trafficking, turning them into whores who just didn't get to make it out a successful case, and he ran away, and we're so, so sorry (nod wink, here's your check, sir, you did all you could.) GAWD my brain is scattered tonight. I may leave a bunch of this in, just so people will see what a tangled thicket my train of consciousness plows through on a daily basis, because the little tangents are swirling around my line of deliberate focused pursuit, and the only difference between this and my more usual writing, is that I prune intensely. 

Butanyway. I am kind of both terrified, and looking forward to, if some right-wing group puts me on some list. 

I reach my left hand into his throat, gagging him to get more slime. I reach my right thumb into his ass, so that my four fingers can cup his perineum and the edge of his scrotum, and I thump his prostate with my thumb, working it back and forth with firm pressure, tenderizing it. I piston my arm into him, jerking the thumb fast back and forward, the motion like one of those electric fuck machines, except I can work his ass with the whole rest of my hand, and it moves and spreads and fists up to knuckle the inside of the butt cheeks, those weird little muscles that are so much more than butt cheek - I need to learn their anatomy. What pulls where. Because I've definitely met some guys who could make the pussy chew. It's not just a sphincter thing. Once again - brain squirrel. I decide I've had enough for in here, showing off in the maze - I want to go somewhere I can be more in charge of the space, and I want more light. I get turned on by looking - much of my pleasure in sex comes in via the eyes -  and I want to see what the fuck I'm doing, and it's so much hotter if I can see his pain. 

I start to take him to my room, and I see this guy who had been watching us - really tall, like six-four or so, with ginger-blond hair and a body that says "I own monogrammed sports equipment," - and that may not be the case at all, but for some reason, he just looks like a guy you'd find in the polo club locker room at a prestigious university. Lanky, muscular but not gym-jacked, moves with athletic intensity, but he's not particularly gentle or elegant. I can picture him playing basketball; I can't picture him ballroom dancing. Well, actually, I can... because I've danced with that poor scared stranger so many times. I can feel how he would struggle and wrestle his way through a two-step. Anyway. I notice he's standing in the lit corner of the maze right where it goes back to the cubicles, and he's in this puddle of red light on his pale skin, and he's looking at us. Like, DEAD on looking at us, not at anything else that walks in front of him or tries to get his commanding attention. 

I stop, and I lean against the wall, and I drop my towel and point to the floor. Here. Suck my dick now. And, being a good boy, Ricky does exactly that. And I'm staring directly at the ginger guy, and he turns so that he's hips-and-shoulders toward me now, and we're looking right into each others' eyes from across that hallway, I mean he's probably ten feet away - but he's in a different space, a groping red-lit darkness instead of out here under the dim blue lights. I'm staring him in the eye and almost totally ignoring the guy choking to death on my cock. I point downward, meaningfully - this, is a thing I command. It happens when I say so. And I just keep thrusting into his throat, and eye-fucking this hot tall ginge. He's stroking rhythmically, and I start thrusting into the boy's throat in the same rhythm. He can hear the noises.... the deep splorching while little faggot Ricky sucks for air around my cock. And, because I have apparently pleased Priapus with my deeply Pagan homages to Him... holy fuck, hot shit like this just keeps throwing itself at my dick. 

So, ginger boy walks over to us, and I take the cocksucker by the head and plug the boy onto his cock like a milking machine. I show him how much the boy can take; we kiss as he gags first on Lacrosse's cock and then on mine, back and forth. I show him how to hold it in him for as long as you can, and then make the swap from cock to cock in a single out-and-in stroke, so that the boy doesn't get a breath. I ask if he'll join the two of us back in my room, and he agrees. Holy fuck, y'all. This dude has a BIG dick nestled in blond pubes, and he's got this lanky cute boyish energy, and he's coming back to my room. 

Hey... if you're DOING the stuff that you know Marjorie Taylor Grrrrreeeeene wants to secretly masturbate to, before she gleefully shows it to Senator McCarthy, oh sorry, McConnell. I get all those red-scare menaces mixed up... but, if you're the kind of cautionary tale about depravity and sexual perversion that would make Lauren Boebert salivate... you're doing it right. 

I explain, as always - video is an option, never an obligation. If somebody doesn't want it on video, I'm totally happy to not turn it on. But I still like to use the lights. I like how they model the figure - it's almost more like how I visualize real life, shaded in washes. I'm finally figuring out how to keep them positioned and charged how I want - it's two big batteries, which is a pain in the ass, but I like the effect and it's worth the weight in the kit. 

We get to the room, and go through some brief positioning... I show Ricky where I want him, and I have some consent conversations before I turn the camera on. Duct tape, dude. I have this feeling that duct tape is going to be a part of my kit soon. Maybe gaffer's tape, just because it's so much less stick-to-everything-y. I'll have to sexperiment. I have some gaff tape. I think duct tape is more likely to rip out beard and body hairs. 

But I'm not sure if gaff tape will stick well to a sweaty slobbery boy getting fucked. That's what I need to see. I think duct tape would. I think electrical tape is what we usually see, but I think I've seen duct tape a little. ANYWAY. I take some video, trying to keep his face mostly out of it, but trying to catch as much of the action as I can. This is the video, which was a PAIN IN THE ASS to redact... but I think it still comes off hot. 

I start fucking him in the mouth, and then pass him over to Golden Boy, and more back and forth. I lean him over the bed, and after confirming consent for the spanking, I start to spank him up, raising his energy with the paddle. Notice the drool running down from his chest to the bed like a lanyard. 

So - you see Hot Ginge cross in front of the boy - and in the mirror, totally unbeknownst to me, because I was shooting it rear-camera, just leaned against a wall - you see everything that's happening at his end, and he starts fucking him HARD in the mouth. You hear it. And he gags the boy. And as I'm grinding on his ass, you hear me say, "Can I hurt you?" at 1:35, and I make him confirm with a yes because it starts out as a grrrrllbbblrr with all the throat-fuckery. He says yes. I shove hard into him, and revel in how his whole body tightens. After a while, Ricky gets out of the middle, and I'm sucking Mister Ginger Boy, and fingering his asshole. 

Ricky joins me fellating Mr. Fitznicely, and I take some of the slime from Ricky's throat and massage the golden fur around the ginger's butthole. He leans into it, and I go up inside a little, not so much fucking him with my finger, as massaging his prostate directly. All stroking, no pounding. This seems to work better with the skittish ones, and this guy has a kind of coltish energy that makes me think he'd spook in some situations. So I'm fingering him and sucking his dick, and the Latin boy is sucking his dick. I realize that he's not at all prepared for getting his asshole fingered - and I wipe my fingers off on a towel and it's OK. I try to explain to him that we need to do other things. And then I flip over on my back so he can see if it will get into my throat easier that way, because that fucker has a wicked up-curve, and it's twenty-year-old hard. I have no idea his age, he's just young. But you know what I mean. Like a boner you could crack rocks with. He starts out by leaning forward like he wants his balls licked - but his balls are not clean. Then he just fucking SHOVES it in... and I feel my hyoid bone stretch in its cartilage harness. 

And he takes a few rounds of jackrabbit-fast strokes, deep inside my throat; I have to tap because he keeps hitting a spot where it just can't go any further without at least taking a minute to stretch - and he's not taking any time. He keeps leaning forward, like he wants his nuts licked again, and I pull him down and explain that if he's going to nut soon, we can keep going - but if it's going to be a while, we need a shower before we keep going, because his ass and balls have shit up underneath. Not a lot, but enough that sucking his balls is off the menu. He tells me that he's close - but the camera just keeps making him nervous and he feels like he can't let loose. 

So I have the guy turn the camera off and put it down. He resumes deep thrusting into my throat, and pulling it out and jerking. I lick my way up the underside of his cock. I wipe him up a little with a towel. He thrusts it into my throat again, hammers a few times, pulls it up and jerks. He's close. He asks where I want him to cum - I tell him he can come on my face, or on my chest, or even in my eyes if he wants to - but I want the finish of it in my throat. And without further warning, he starts to squirt cum on my chin and then shoves it full depth into my throat. I can feel the spasms, his cock bucking inside my throat, shoving my larynx out of the way and ejaculating into my esophagus. I let him thrust until his hips stop, and then milk his still-hard cock until it gives up a couple more dribbles, and then I gag and that awesome slippery spermy rush comes up my throat. This is Hot Dude Load Number four for the night. It's been a GOOD night. 

And he's still hard. 

He wants to keep going. There's More. 

The Latino boy sucks his cock some more, and then I ask GoldenThigh if he will fuck me. He swings around, picks my feet up and puts them on his shoulders, so that I'm hanging just a little off the bed... and then he rubs a little of the slimy spit from Ricky's throat on my butthole, and SHOVES his cock in. 

HOLY FUCK that hurts. He's BIG. Like, probably eight inches, and almost as thick as my wrist. I'm slick, but not stretched out, and he enters in one strong relentless push, opening my second hole without a second thought... just like I had just done to Ricky. God DAMN. Ricky starts to make him pull out, but I figure... I just did this from the other side, this is the Universe telling me that (1) be careful with this particular trick, and (2) Yeah, it really does hurt, and (3) yeah, it really does feel as hot as I pictured. The phrase, "The Dildo of Consequences rarely arrives lubed" comes to mind. He just keeps shoving. You can see how he fucks my throat - he's using that same intense rhythm on my ass. BAM BAM BAM. He fucks for a while, and Ricky starts to suck my cock. See previous... he's GOOD at that. So I've got this beautiful smooth tall boy with the massive penis pounding away at my hole as I lie on my back, my feet on his shoulders, and I'm thrusting up into the other boy's throat as he kneels and leans over my body. I can feel the orgasm starting to build. I hold the boy's skull and shove all the way in, unloading and holding until he gags too. I love this game. There's a slimy puddle on my belly; my pubes look like they need to be squeegeed. I'm VERY happy. That's two. 

The other two guys are still gung ho... I stand up, and andale, pronto, little Seedy Gonzales hops in front of the blond boy, mounting his cock like it's a gymnastics move. Blond boy starts to fuck, and I reach around and put my hand in Ricky's throat, making him gag and squeeze his hole on the blond's big dick. I get up on the bed, so I can get my dick into his mouth. Like Gingernuts had done earlier, I reach my other hand down and insert a finger, then two, and then three, into the boy's hole alongside the big pink dick. The sensation of him gagging, is EPIC. I have one hand in each end, like I'm trying to reach into the middle to flip him inside out. Like my fingertips are trying to touch. 

There's a knock at the door. OMG, finally! I'm sorry he missed so much, but there's still plenty fun to be had here. I open the door, and it's the slim blond guy, scruffy slightly reddish beard, ball cap, tattoos. "Hey! I was beginning to think you'd never get here!" and he says, "WHAT THE FUCK," and turns and stomps out. 

It turns out, blond boy with the beard, is the boyfriend of the tall Lacrosse blond boy. 

Oops. 

So, Lacrosse dashes off to try to smooth things out, and Ricky and I go shower. I see the boyfriend several times more over the course of the evening, and each time he immediately turns to the side and goes a different direction. He appears too mad at me to speak. I had no idea who was connected how; I was expecting to see him, and I ended up fucking his boyfriend. Sorry, guy, it's the bath house. I've never met that guy; I didn't know. I try to apologize, but he just walks away before I can get three words out. 

It's not until a couple days later when I hear from the original scruffy blond boy that I was planning to meet - and that wasn't him. No tattoos. I am bad with faces at the best of times, but the two of them, while not really resembling each other terribly much, would end up in the same police lineup. Fairly small-framed, ginger-blond beard, short blond hair, light eyes, slim. The kind of stunt double you don't notice in an action scene, because when you're expecting to see scruffy blond dude, and you see scruffy blond dude, you don't notice details. So, I haven't pissed off the hot dude that I'm still hoping to bang. Just some random stranger. 

So, that's orgasm number two. And I cut out a bunch of stuff where Real Daddy Steve and I kind of hung out and I showed him parlor tricks - things like, "See, if you sixty nine with me until we BOTH gag...." and "If you put your cock in my ass and your hand in my mouth, press here, now wait for it..... "

Because there was just too much to write it all out. I love how the story of Steve there is round and complete, and the rest is just the kind of... a lot. The thing is... this one was really three nights packed into one, and each of them is worthy of a long explanation. 

Showering, I run into an amazing hot Black guy who's in the same choir that my husband used to sing in. He's six-five or six-six or so, and today he's got on waist-length loc braids, swishing sideways across his back as he walks. I've always found him attractive. He is a dancer as well as a singer, and his tall supple body is both strong and elegant, with long limbs and smooth cocoa-brown skin. He laughs often, a deep basso chuckle, which I've always adored - and we talk about the usual "funny meeting you here" noise. I tell him some about how I play here, about the things I enjoy, about the anatomy and physiology that fascinates me. He's a veterinarian, so he has medical knowledge about the things that I'm talking about, the hyoid bone, the acetylcholine, the rectosigmoid junction, the endorphins you get from nearly choking to death. After a while, I start to feel like I've cornered him - despite my difficulty in reading face and body language, I get uncomfortable at some points when I'm not sure how my story is being received, or if my audience is trying to flee and can't find a way out of the conversation. I excuse myself, and go wander around some more. 

I meet up with Ricky again. I take him back to the room, and do some exhibition-level throatfucking with him. I record just the audio, and you hear me talking to him about choking and oxygen and consent and you hear him gurgling and coughing and struggling on my dick. This is such a nice way of having a conversation. Then I start smacking the shit out of him with the paddle. While I'm still fucking his throat, his head hung over the bed edge, I'm paddling his thighs, his chest, his arms. Smack, smack, SMACK. Urgh grlup gmmmmh. Until he ejaculates. I lick some of it off him, and then swallow him to milk the last drops out - because, that's the fifth one, I think? In my throat tonight. 

After the shower and some more outside time to cool off in the pool with the weird foggy rain hitting the heated water, and another round of hot shower, steam room, shivery cold outside watching the raindrops hit the pool, hot shower. I run into the tall black entertainer again, and explain why I took off - and he's cool and seems to want to keep talking. I offer to suck his dick, but he's not in that mind frame right now - but I do stroke it gently as we talk, discussing how awesome it is to be gay, to have this kind of sexual freedom, to be able to enjoy pleasure and awe and sensuality. I talk with him about how much I enjoy his unusual gender presentation - he's totally at home in his own skin, and is as likely to show up at events in a figure-skimming cocktail dress, as a suit and tie. Either way, there may  be six-inch heels and/or a black cherry lip. Never pads; he's not in drag, he just likes a very different style of being himself. He's the most comfortable-with-his-energy person I've met, and I tell him how much I enjoy that. It's like seeing a big tree being steady and strong in a storm - he's stabilizing, because nothing shakes him. He eventually wanders off to go find some more steam, and I head over to the spa. 

In the spa, I see these two bear guys, both shorter than me, probably five-nine or five-ten, one a furry silver that was probably reddish brown when he was younger, the other a thick bearded Latino. They're hanging out together, not fucking in the spa, but just kind of talking and occasionally touching. It's very sociable. They're both staring at me like I'm dessert. 

I wade into the spa, and walk up toward the two of them. The Latino bear reaches out to kiss me; the silver bear strokes my cock. This is very, very nice. They both shift slightly and start to suck on my nipples, one each - it feels like the kind of coordination that you get with couples who play together. My Husband and I do this well. I ask if they're together - apparently they'd just met, here. I tell them that I really want to get my dick sucked, but it's not the best underwater in the spa - I'd hate for somebody to aspirate water into a lung. So I sit up on the ledge, and the dark haired bear worships my cock, letting me push it into his mouth and then his throat. I hold his head down. After a while, as he starts to struggle, I say, "You know, this is really not a safe place to do this particular thing. We should stop." I let up. He pulls off, and kind of chuckles, like yeah, he knows it's hot but it's not smart. 

Then it's the silver bear's turn. More delicious deep-throated service, working with a swallowing motion to milk the head of my cock in his throat. It's really top notch crotch. I tell him, as he starts to get a little bug-eyed, "This isn't a safe place for this kind of thing. We really shouldn't be doing this in the water. You could drown. You should come to my room." He keeps working on my cock. Again, I hold it until he gasps for breath. Then, I reach out, and put three fingers into each of their mouths, gripping the lower jaws with my thumb. I have a man on my right hand, and a man on my left. It feels more like sorcery than sex. I reach in, and push the epiglottis closed. I hold, letting the pressure rise, letting them start to gag... and I say, "Yeah, I know, third time's a charm. I want to do fun hot weird sex; I don't want to accidentally kill somebody. Note, I did SAY it at least a couple of times, AS I was doing it... and it's fun to flirt with danger - but now, flirt is over, and it's time to get out of the water and pay proper attention to choking on my cock." We get out of the spa and dry off, and start to walk toward my room. Somewhere along the way the Latin bear takes a different turning - and so it's just me and the silver bear back in my surreal little space with the unusual lights. The hair all over his body picks up the colors of the lights, and it makes him look psychedelic, now red orange, now ruby, now magenta. 

These are some shots of the silver bear that he sent me - I didn't take any when we were fucking. What you can't see, is that for every dark hair, there is a colorless one that makes him sparkle in the weird lights. 

I show him some of the fun tricks I was using earlier on Steve - working his prostate, feeling the cum the Latin bear left in there earlier, and playing with his hole and his cock. I talk about elevating the serpent - drawing the Kundalini light up through the chakras, just like what I explained with Steve. Pull all that sperm energy from the fuck before, up, into your belly, your chest, your throat. I rub my way around each chakra as I massage his prostate with the other hand, and then I leave a trail of bright slaps up his torso - belly, solar plexus, chest, shoulders - and have him use that as a visualization to pull the power up. He's not going to ejaculate again, but he goes through a couple of rounds of the shivers. 

I explain to him that if he wants to work out the third load of the night, especially once I've been fucked, it's going to be a lot easier with some prostate attention, and he gets down to business. I show him how I like it rubbed and stroked and played with, and he obediently follows my every directorial whim. He sucks my cock deep into his throat and uses a finger, and then the stainless steel NJoy Pure Wand toy to work over my prostate. I pull the energy up. Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. I breathe in rhythm with the music, thrusting up into his hot wet mouth, and he matches his strokes on both my cock and my prostate to the thumping bass. He gags occasionally, and keeps stroking my cock with his throat... and I keep fucking. I start to feel the shivers coming, and my body goes into racking spasms, gripping his skull as I unload. ALLLL the way down. His eyes are crazy and starting to fade as I finally pull out. 

That's three. And three GOOD ones, too - three shakes-all-over, head-blown-off orgasms. Wow. 

Like I said, seriously a top five night. 

We hang out and talk a little; I play with his throat some more, put a handprint on his pale ass. 

Then, FINALLY, it's time to get dressed and go home.