Today I squirted everything I had into the body of an extremely beautiful Arab guy, with a perfectly muscled physique and a face that would make you cry with its melding of manly, dark features around the scruffy chin and brow, and soft sensuality in the eyes and lips– a flawless-looking person who I have absolutely no business sweating all over and ejaculating in, with my schlubby middle-aged body and graying beard, but I fucking feasted on this guy. His name apparently means “The Good” or “The Handsome” in Arabic. And he lived up to his name.
He opened the door to his apartment on the 25th floor of a luxury building wearing just a towel, and was just as handsome as his pictures, and very polite and courtly. We went to the bed. I turned him around to face an ass that left me stupid and speechless. At first I just stroked my face against it, very lightly, and felt his body shake with the pleasure of contact with my beard. He murmured some words about giving me his ass, about doing whatever I wanted.
After some more slow exploration of his body, in which I stroked his rocking musculature all over and felt him up between his thighs and cupped his ass from below, he looked right into my eyes again, and said, “I have to ask you something. I have some GHB that I want to take. It’s just a small dose. I won’t take it if you don’t want me to. But I’ll have to throw it away if I don’t.” I must have made a face, because he said, “Of course I have to ask, I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.” I don’t know from party drugs, so I just said, “Can you act normal on it?” and he said “Yeah, it just makes me extremely horny.” And I said, “OK, whatever gets the job done.” He went to the bedside table and gulped down something that looked like orange juice to me, and came back and sucked my dick, and fairly quickly, he metamorphosed into an amazing sex toy. His already sensual nature was totally amped up, and just a flick of his nipple or a long slow lick up from his collarbone to his ear sent him into some other universe of pleasure. His body was about the same size as mine, although he was shaped like a wrestler from Mount Olympus and I’m shaped like your dad, so when I laid on top of him and ground my dick into his, every joint and bone lined up between us, and he curled himself around me deliciously, holding me close to him and interlacing his fingers with mine up over his head and squeezing so hard I felt he could snap the bones in my hand. “Get close to me,” I said in his ear. “Hold on to me.” And he pressed even closer. My dick strained with it’s mute, instinctual desire to get inside him. I flipped him over and ate out his ass. If I reached up under his torso and just so much as touched his chest with my finger, I would feel his asshole dilate sharply around my tongue and suck it in. This was awesome. He was awesome. I was awesome.
I stood up and put my steel-hard prick against his hole, and started to push. He yelped and pulled away. “Go slow,” he said. I put it back, and cooed supportive words to him, “Come back to me, baby, take it in, you know you want it, come on back,” and he slowly inched back, looking over his shoulder at me. I put two fingers on his trapezius and applied some pressure. “Come on back,” I said, and I felt him open and my dickhead slid in to the ridge. “That’s a good boy,” I said, “you want the whole thing, just come on back.” And he dropped his head and moaned, and I put my fingers on his head and pulled back some more, and slowly my dick sank into him inch by inch.
The beauty of his body impaled by my rod was almost too much, and I started sawing away at him. “Fuck me slow,” he said. “Don’t be rough, fuck me slow.” So I fucked him slow, almost excruciatingly slow, but it was what I needed too, because my head was spinning just looking at his perfect form and my nuts were aching from being overloaded with fuckjuice. There was no way I was going to cum with this guy until I’d had my fill. So I fucked him in dreamlike centimeters that made me feel like I was on some kind of fuck drug, too. Somehow he slowly managed to turn over from face-down to on his side, where I could see my dick slithering between his thighs and into his hot, humid asshole better, and then flat on his back with his legs pushed open wide, perfectly receiving my heaving body– all without my dick ever coming out. “I like it when you sit up,” he said, and I knelt up a bit higher, which made my dick shift up inside him, and he moaned and turned to jelly. I thrusted up into him and hit that perfect spot, over and over. He felt like silk inside. My dick had never felt so perfect. My cum had never roiled in my balls so intensely.
If I pushed in him very deep and squeezed the muscles between my legs to make my prick swell and engorge, his eyes would open wide, and he would pull me into him roughly and we were a tight ball of fuck, rocking back and forth. He was intensely attuned to my body; I can only imagine it was the drug, but it was extremely nice for me. I couldn’t hold it back any more; this slow in and out was driving me out of my mind. So I said, “I gotta cum,” and I started body slamming him. He woke up instantly, yelping like an animal, and grappled with me as I fucked all my frustrated spooge into him. When I was done I didn’t stop– he was so meaty, so muscular, so beautifully formed that I just wanted to feel that pounding contact against him. He just wanted my dick in him over and over. I wasn’t getting soft, my dick did not want to stop fucking. He turned on his side again. I kept fucking. “You’re full of my cum now,” I mouthed into his ear, and he fucked back against me. He licked the sweat off my face.
I was ravenous after this and had dinner in the Village. It’s hard to believe the things I get to experience, sometimes. I’ve expended a lot of words on this, but I don’t feel I can express how beauty and pleasure affect my soul. I can barely recollect it perfectly. But I can still feel it. Fucking is living.
