His profile said 5’9, 185, 48C, 17A, BR/BR, TATS, MILITARY CUT Well built, well experienced, well trained
When: Right now! Ethnicity: White Where: At your place Status: Ask me
Into: Sucking, Fucking, 1 on 1, Group Sex, Leather, Toys, Role Playing, S&M, Scat, fart, Pig Play, WS, FF, Nipple Play, Fuck Buddy, Kissing, Feet/Socks
32 // 5’9 // Muscular // Hazel // Dk Brown // Bottom/Versatile
His pix show an absurdly masculine, handsome leatherman, complete with Fu-Manchu moustache, roiling with sunburnt muscles and a truly fabulous ass. Such a magnificent specimen has no need of the web for hook-ups. Within five minutes of his walking into the Ramrod he’d be showered with American Express black cards. Why would he be so aggressive in pursuing me? Although my profile had S&M checked off (and I am into rough sex), I’m not into leather…leathermen yes, leather itself no. And although no stranger to handball my profile says nothing about fisting. Likewise, although I’ve peed in many a bathtub, Golden Showers have never really sprouted my May Flower. I hadn’t even proclaimed myself a Titpig on my profile yet. I was suspicious of either rampant fakery or some other nefarious scheme.
I answered his e-mail with a slight coolness, feigning a tough attitude. His responses were quick and aggressive. In short order a cab pulled up and he jumped out, carrying a small rucksack. My astonishment was all too apparent. He not only conformed to his profile, there was an endearing boyish quality that didn’t come through in his pictures at all. He was a living doll.
With a firm grip and steady eyelock, I shook his hand and directed him into my kitchen. In almost robotic fashion, he responded immediately to my various commands, which pleased me enormously. I undressed my new toy, who smelled overpoweringly of sun and mansweat. He smelled so rank and masc. Like the inside of a man's hole after a day of calamitous sodomy. Inspection of his ass and his splendid hairy hole revealed that he hadn’t showered since the last time he’d shit. It was gamey and somewhat overripe for my taste, but I snarfed down on it, dingleberries and all.
He was completely submissive, aggressively submissive if such a thing is possible, without being effeminate in any fashion whatsoever. I had a strikingly beautiful man totally at my command, a toy soldier for my pleasure. He started by asking permission to sit on my dick. My inspection showed a narrow, tight pucker, giving only gradually to my finger and grasping fast. But with only a gob of spit, the self-same hole opened to accommodate my oozing rod in one stoke, with only one hesitation. I was beyond impressed. Well trained, indeed!
After a half-hour of switching positions and just a bit of oral (he’s a bit of a gagger), I was fucking him on his back, head resting on pillows leaning up against the footboard. We were both glazed in sweat. He told me to relax a bit and stay still, which I did. With rhythmic thrusts of his pelvis, he began using his hole to jerk me off, hands never deviating from my tits. I’m a veteran of many things, but never have I had such a sensation. Alternately loose and tight, it was as if I were being milked of my seed. Soon enough he got his prize, as I washed his colon with fuck.
He farted out a thick skid of Santorum on my Egyptian cotton bedsheets. Some trickled down onto my shag carpet. No worries, I made him eat it up.