Tonight was one of those things I feel like would only happen to me, here, now: I went up to midtown and the ate ass of/got my dick sucked by/raw-fucked and spooged all over a fairly cute, rather meaty-muscular latin dude… on a packing blanket on the floor in the middle of some kind of warehouse stuffed with poofy, sparkly evening gowns.
After a day of frenzied Christmas shopping and a week of being prick-teased, I really needed to get off– in the past three days, no fewer than three dudes who were either on their way to get my load pumped into them or told me to be on my way to seed them at their place backed out minutes later and disappeared for good. This guy is always online but never free, but no one else was biting as I sat in Union Square, cruising various apps and hookup sites and watching the pressing crowd pack itself endlessly into the festive-but-Soylent-Green-like holiday market they have there in December. So I idly tossed him a note, asking if he wanted to suck me off. Surprisingly, he instantly wrote back saying he would. He told me an address and I hopped on the train and emerged into another pressing crowd in Harold Square, pushing my way past groups of tourists blocking the sidewalk brandishing cameras and saying, in every language imaginable, “OK, now one of just you and him….”/”OK ahora solo ella y tú”/blablabla. My phone was about to die and my nuts were about to burst so I felt like Tom Cruise rushing though a teeming city to defuse a ticking time bomb with moments to spare. My time bomb wouldn’t kill everyone, just slime everyone with my genetic material should it explode without being properly defused. He’d told me to text him when I arrived so he could let me in, and I was convinced my phone would die just before I could put my dick in him.
I arrived at the address he gave me, and found just a stupid fluorescent-lit bead store. My heart sank. I turned the phone back on, and texted him that I was there, and he said, “Great!” I reminded him that my phone was about to die and waited. It didn’t look like there were any apartments here. People endlessly streamed past back on 6th Avenue but it was pretty quiet on this side street. Nothing happened for about two minutes.
Suddenly the metal grate of the dark storefront to my left began to raise. It went up about four feet and I saw the guy inside, crouching down to wave me in. No, this doesn’t look shady at all, I thought. I went over and crouched down myself and slid under the grate and was flabbergasted to see the storefront packed with racks and racks of foamy, spangled dresses, all embalmed in plastic bags; a little desk with a computer and some desk chairs were in a small clearing to the left but otherwise it was all dresses. “Well, this is unexpected,” I said. “Don’t worry, no one will catch us,” he said. “I’m not worried about that… it’s just kinda… different.” He laughed and we kissed and he kissed kind of nice, so I thought, this will be pretty good. I really had to go to the bathroom, though. He went to the back, and turned on a light in a rear room, and said, “It’s kind of like a maze.” And as I made my way back the dresses closed in on me till I was pushing through them like someone in Children of the Corn II: Bloody Debutante Ball. It was pitch black in the back room with only the sentinel light of the bathroom to lead me to the very back. I did my business and came out; now it was really dark. I made it into the front room, where it looked like he’d turned off the overhead lights for “atmosphere”; now the only light was essentially coming through the door from the bathroom way at the back. All around me the plastic-wrapped dresses glistened like wet stalagmites.
Then I noticed the packing blanket spread gallantly on the floor for our “comfort.” I decided to roll with it, and told him maybe he should get on his knees; he liked this and began sucking my dick. It was not an ideal location for me and of course I wasn’t getting hard. He gave rather nice head but did an awful lot of the tongue-fluttery thing I don’t like. I find it distracting and kind of feminine somehow; lick my dick like is the most delicious ice cream cone in the world, dudes. Don’t wiggle your tongue at it.
He was awfully into it, though, even though I was only getting a little swollen down there. He managed to rip off all his clothes on his knees with my dick in his mouth and kept jamming his fingers in his very beefy round ass as he sucked me. I decided to eat that out.
And that got me going, though it is rather hard to really get comfortable on a cement floor with a dirty packing blanket on it. The latin dude was also an impressive moisturizer; his skin was unctuous with lotion and his hair, jet black and wavy, was pomaded within an inch of its life. I felt like if I hugged him tight he’d shoot across the room like a bar of soap in a locker room shower. But his ass was beautiful to eat and my dick got hard. When I put it back in his face he was delighted and began emitting a stream of nonstop “Yes daddy yes daddy yes daddy” that continued pretty much until we had both ejaculated. He definitely gets points for enthusiasm.
I wanted to eat some more, so I got back in the position. His constant fingering of his hole made me think he might like it if I fingered it instead; my suspicion was correct and his whole body shook as I crooked my finger against his prostate in that “c’mere” motion that sensitive bottoms adore. This was making my dick very hard indeed, so I pulled out my finger and unceremoniously stuck my bare dick in there. I don’t know if we ever talked about this, but he was hot and I wanted it. He was very tight but he took me pretty well and I sliced in and out of him. His legs were a little longer than mine, though, and with only a blanket on a hard floor, it was hard to get a good angle to drill into him properly. I longed to poke my dickhead against his prostate like I was doing with my finger and get the same reaction. Then I popped out.
At this point he was flopping all around like a fish out of water. I put him on his back and tried to penetrate him again but he kept flailing around and pushing me away with his legs and I never could get into a good rhythm of barebacking him again. So I moved into push-up position, stuck my dick in his mouth, and fucked his face. Whenever I pulled it out it was “OH DADDY YES DADDY OH DADDY YES DADDY” and then whimpering as he sucked me. Very quickly, too quickly– I would have loved to figure out how to properly pummel my tool into his rather nice meaty body– I felt my nuts tighten and I was squirting semen in his mouth. He quickly pulled me out, spat into the air, and yet simultaneously very dexterously jerked me off through the rest of my orgasm. My cum was flying everywhere; I would find it very amusing to discover I’d plastered a dress nearby and some Page Six socialite will end up wearing my cum on some stupid red carpet.
“Wow wow daddy good daddy very hot daddy HOT DADDY!” he said. And I just laughed and laughed. “Sorry, I was very pent up, I came too quick,” I said, pulling on my jeans, and he said, “No, it’s hot, that’s a lot of cum, hot!” He kept fingering his ass and nuzzling up to me, even with my pants pulled up and just the fly open. He stroked my body and back hair and kept kissing my face and jamming his fingers into his ass. I decided to play with it a little more. I got him back on his stomach on the blanket, and curled up between his legs, and basically reamed his gland with various fingers and thumbs for the next like twenty minutes. He loved it when I held his hip with one hand and aimed my other finger at it, right through his ass, or when I held his dick and simultaneously twisted my thumb inside him. He shook and moaned and pulsed inside and I really thought I would make his ass cum right there on the floor. But I could never quite get him to the point. “You are driving me out of my mind, Daddy,” he kept saying, face pressed into the blanket, slack with stupid pleasure. Eventually he crawled over and licked my feet while I worked him over. It was extremely arousing, though I wasn’t getting hard. I didn’t want to quit.
Finally, he got on his back and beat off while I rummaged around in his rectum, and shot hard, his whole body convulsing. I stroked his balls and ass and thighs while his orgasm ebbed and he just kept jolting as if shocked by electricity. “Wow wow wow,” he kept saying, “that was so good.”
His dick had been hard as a rock through this whole thing, and stayed like that long after he’d cum. In fact when I came in, crouching under the steel grate, I’d noticed the distinctive lump of a turgid dick in his jeans. He was hard just from letting some dude into his dress barn! God, I wish I didn’t need so much stage managing for a successful erection and orgasm.
He was very affectionate after he came and asked me a bunch of questions about myself, my partner, what I do, and so on. “And how old are you?” he asked pointedly. Foolishly, I pulled him up to me, grabbed his ass, looked him in the eye, and said, “Well, how old do you think I am?” “FIFTY!” he said with clear delight. My face must have fallen like a cake baking in a room with a marching band. “Ouch! I’m 45!” I said. “Oh really? I am too!” he said. “Well, you don’t have a face full of gray hair,” I said. “So you don’t look 50.” I sure hope I don’t actually look 50 to everyone! I guess he wants a daddy so maybe I should have lied, and made myself even older than that. “I would love for you to fuck me again,” he said as we both got dressed. “If I ever get to fuck you in a bed, it will be a lot better,” I said. He said he could never host at home. I live in Brooklyn, so I’m probably never getting my wick wet in him again. I am pretty sure one time in the dress emporium is plenty. Makes for a good story, at least!
