Saturday, March 31, 2012

Loss, Love, Lust and 3 Lucious Loads

Thursday was a pretty fulfilling day for me in more ways than one. I had the honor of accompanying my best fuck bud to a memorial service for his former lover, who came down with cancer about a year ago and I swear would be alive today if he had decent insurance. (Hear that, Justice Kennedy? Yeah right.)

I was there as Rob's shoulder and at his request. His ex was also black, and the small memorial was at his ex's family's house, and I was the only white person there. And they all knew I was sort of what passes for Rob's current bf. In other words, they all knew Rob is fucking me. Funny thing, though, it didn't make me feel self-conscious at all. Made me feel powerful, actually. Like I was the chosen one, which I guess I am for better or worse.

But I was mainly there for Rob's sake. He took the news pretty hard the week before, and when he first unloaded on me over the phone, he confessed that all he wanted to do was fuck my brains out, right then, that he was horny as hell and needed to fuck rough, raw and relentless (my favorite tagline).

So we agreed out of respect to wait till after the memorial service, and once that wrapped up Thursday around noon, it was back to Rob's place for his final "unloading." He had promised me (and himself more) that he wouldn't touch himself during the five days leading up to the service, and he swore he hadn't. So he had five days of cum built up for the service I was about to give him.

We went straight to his bedroom and threw off our clothes like we were going for a swim on a hot summer day. And even though we were treated to quite a spread at the memorial service, he told me in the car to his apartment that he was still starving — all he wanted to eat was my ass. So without even getting my lips wrapped around his cock like we usually begin, he had me on all fours — a position I would basically stay in for the next hour or so, and then a couple of hours later, I'd be his doggie again for the start of Round 2.

Robert is an expert ass licker and he outdid even himself for 10 or 15 minutes. He munched like there was no tomorrow. I could feel his nose in my cunt as his tongue lapped my perineum, the beginnings of that ridgeline between your crack and nutsac. Then he would dive that talented tongue straight into my hole, swirling it around and even rotating his head from side to side for even more stimulating movement on my tender flesh. The small stubble on his cheeks was having its usual effect on my ass cheeks, and at one point he gave me his trademark head butt where he shoves that sexy bald pate of his as hard as he can against my crack and twists it back and forth, further driving me wild to the point where I'm slamming my palm flat on the floor like I was crying uncle but instead moaning with pleasure like a white bitch.

When he had eaten his full — in other words, when my fuck hole was oozing his spit — he straightened up while still on his knees and slapped his cock on my ass, then slid the head up and down the crack. He doesn't usually emit any pre until I suck him forever, so if he had any precum it was being added to the spit for the only lube I was getting that day. (Round 2 would rely on the ejaculate of Round 1.)

It was showtime. I braced myself with my hands flat against the floor and raised my ass up high the way he loves it, then Robert softly whispered words I rarely if ever hear from him, and I had to close my eyes and stifle the lump in my throat as I grunted the universal male acknowledgment: "Unnnghh."

"You know I love you bro," Rob had said.

After my guttural response, and squelching any sign of emotion, I told him "Yeah, I know."
Then I added: "Now fuck me like you mean it. And you know how I mean it."

That helmeted crown was punching itself like a fist inside my cunt less than a second later and the fuck of a lifetime was under way. That first slam left dent marks in my skin from the brillo pad blacks call a bush and what I call heaven when pressed firmly against my tailbone. His cum-heavy balls slapped my sloppy perineum. My eyes bulged, my grunts turned to "Oh God" and my biceps started bursting as Rob's pent-up emotions poured from every muscle of his body through his cock and straight up my gut. I've never taken a beating like that. It was almost a sexual assault. Rape with love. And I was loving it.

But it was not to last, we are only human after all. Rob came within 10 minutes of this nonstop thrusting, perhaps a record for him. Surprisingly it wasn't a volcano of cum. At least I don't think so. It shot all inside as he held his pelvis flush against my buttocks, and his whole body spasmed as he shook the last ropes out. He stayed inside of me as he leaned over and kissed my sweaty back, then he proceeded to start going in and out all over again, only at a more measured, normal rhythm, one that I kept pace with, meeting his thrusts with my ass each and every time for maximum impact and full penetration, the kind where I feel his head practically banging my stomach. This time, he lasted for quite a while, never getting soft from beginning to end of Session 1, which lasted a little over an hour all together.

It was that second load that flooded my chute and wouldn't stop oozing down my leg. It was so fucking deep inside of me, it was going to take forever, and believe it or not I was scheduled to work that night. (I'm a sportswriter, and was on the sked to do "deskwork" that night.) So I called in sick, lying to my boss over the phone as Rob's DNA was trickling out of me. With the decks cleared, I knew I was getting another round later, but first, we both climbed into bed and had one of those talks that two guys rarely have. I won't go into the details, but Rob let me know how much it meant to have someone he could go to when faced with a great personal loss. (When he first told me about his former lover the week before, it was the first time I'd ever heard him cry.)

We dozed off and slept for almost two hours, then after cleaning up a little we went at it again, me on all fours again, but on the bed this time.

As I drove home that night, I knew it was a good call not to be at work. My pants were wet from leakage, my car seat thank God was still dry, but I could only imagine the situation I would've been in at work had I been seen walking around with cum oozing through my pants.

Ah, the things we do for love.

Monday, March 26, 2012

The strings attached

It's been a while since I've been, for all intents and purposes, in a committed relationship, but I guess that's what I've gotten myself into these past many months with my fuck bud Robert. I long ago stopped writing up every fuck we have and have pretty much ended any and all one-nighters and side trips to things like the Black Party. (Shit, I even totally forgot about it this year, and had more than a few longing twitches down below when I was suddenly reminded of it when I went online Saturday night.)

I've been having a blast with Rob, don't get me wrong. This power top black king knows how to make me squirm with delight with his 8 and a half inch phattie -- in my throat or in my cunt -- "rough, raw and relentless" as my tagline on Xtube proclaims. But with this commitment to another human being comes investment, and it's been cashed in for full value these past couple of days. You see, someone very, very close to Rob died late last week, and I was the guy who had to pick him up, give him a hug over the phone, head to his place with some food, let him talk about it with me in between his tears, and otherwise be there for him while he dealt with the rest of his family and the family of the deceased. I didn't know what to do other than to talk with him. Our usual activity was out of the question, though Rob himself confessed to me when he first told me the news on the phone that all he wanted to do was rape my hole, that somehow that would make him feel better. I know it would've ... hell, it would have made him feel ALIVE. Something I think we all need to feel when something like this happens.

We both got turned on by the thought for about 5 seconds, then thought better of it. Out of respect for his friend, that would not do. So I've been practicing my best bedside manner with him, not my usual bottom-bunk maneuvers, and it occurred to me how much like a relationship this has really become.

Don't worry, he and I vowed after those lustful 5 seconds to make up for lost time like the two horny bastards we are. I will be curious to see if Robert can keep his hands off himself and give me several days worth of steaming hot seed once this is behind him.

I'll not let a drop go to waste.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Blogs getting hotter and hotter

Blogs come and go. It's the times we live in. So when I've got time to cruise around, I love it when I find one that has my cock popping out of my pants and I have to squirt from what I've just read...

I added a couple of new blogs to my "favorites" list off to the side here... One by a male escort (fuck worker) who bangs raw unless he's paid to suit up, the other from a pig bottom (smooth butt) who loves getting banged by older dudes. Both blogs got me off this weekend.


p.s. got a hot one you follow? share it with me, bro.

3-28: here's one more: rawmasculinity .... HOT!

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Weighty matters

Viewing this photo (reblogged from blk/in/white on tumblr), I’m imagining myself on my knees worshipping such an exquisite specimen, and my first physical contact is that moment when I reach out and heft this massive meaty appendage of black male potency, sizing up its length, girth, mass and weight in my inferior palm and feeling my pussy slightly twitch as my brain lustfully, willfully calculates the physics of accommodation necessary for my tight white cunt to be repeatedly raped raw by this black bull cock — moaning, screaming, even fighting — until in the end I am no longer the same person, my hole is left gaping open and my walls are coated with a stranger’s DNA that I can almost taste at the back of my throat.

God I love that moment… I love the physical sensation, the mental stimulation, the sexual anticipation, just from hefting it.