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*** Based on my own experiences. Names have been changed***


I had just broken up with my girlfriend and while it had been a short lived romance, it didn’t sting any less after ending things with her. But wallowing does nothing good; even in New York, home to some eight million people, it can be a lonely place. Problem was, I knew I wasn’t in the right mind set to romantically pursue anyone. I’d have tabs and tabs of porn open, from videos to pictures archives and listings. After long enough, the videos got stale and the pics weren’t cutting it…

…but the listings were.

I’d spend hours of my free time pouring over the Craigslist ads, reading what women and trans women were looking for in a casual relationship. Taking in their words, latching onto the more well written of listings, I would conjure forth fantastic and filthy scenarios wherein I’d email these beautiful women and they would accept me into their no strings attached activities. It would require a modicum of imagination but it was always thrilling.

To have insight into how a person fucks based on written word alone – erotic.

Months of masturbating, I grew hard to countless listings and pics, never replying.

But over time, even that grew tired so I turned to other listings. the m4m category: I’d never even clicked this section before, never before had I any interest in men. I still didn’t – I was just curious to read how people would fuck, how they would pleasure and stimulate…

Or how they would dominate and take.

And so I delved into the pages after pages of cock pics and promises. It wasn’t even about the men, it’s just that I now had new reading material. I’d browse and browse, clicking on any that seemed a promising read. Pants at my ankles in the solitude of my apartment with my dick in hand, I’d read over such titles as…

Tiny Bottom for Fisting Action.

Dildo Play.

Fem Black Top for White Man

Rooftop Action for Uniform Top.

Dad for Younger.

Dad for Younger? A simple enough header, I opted to open it and and scroll the page. It read:

“Older Dad, 42 and White. 7″ cut. 5’11”, 200 lbs and solid. DdFree and neg. clean shaven. I’m looking for a younger man… smooth or hairy, I, like both. Straight boys a plus. Top here. I host.”

Nothing incredibly compelling about the words themselves and the pic included was a stagnant pose of a man sitting with an erection with his face cropped out. Yet something here made me harder than I’d been in months. Regardless of hands on or off, it was ready for launch at anytime as I reread his listing over and over for the next couple hours. It just wasn’t boring me, nothing was tiring oddly enough. So I went a step further; dripping with arousal, I grabbed my phone, stripped off my tshirt and jeans, and dash for a blank wall to pose against. For the next few minutes, I took shot after shot from the neck down. I flex with my cock angrily standing at the attention. I take a shot from behind, sticking out my ass and curving my back as far as I can. I take another of my legs in the air, my face hidden behind my knees as my ass is shown off.

I wasn’t even consciously taking pics at this point – the arousal was too much to be clear thinking and without just that, I replied to his listing.

“Hi, I’m Payton. I’m white, masculine, 22, 6′ tall. 6″ thick dick. 180 lbs. d&dfree and neg. I’m straight but between girlfriends. I want to bottom for you.”


The phone whooshes with a wind MP4; the email is on its way.

Nearly immediately, there’s a response Gaziantep Evi Olan Escort and my heart races as my stomach churns. Panicked, I drop my phone to the table and step away to go splash cold water on my face in the bathroom, anything to crush down this panicky horniness pounding through my body.

Some forty minutes of chilling out the fire under my skin, I step from the sink cold and shivering, still bristling with the aroused energy jumping around in me; still I sport the mad erection as I damply head back to my bedroom. Still his response lies in waiting in my inbox.


The message enlarges and his included pics zoom in – in one, he’s lying back on his bed, his flaccid cock hanging over his leg. In the second was a close up of his face – his hair was greying but wasn’t thin, he had a buzz cut and shaven face. Only a few creases are visible on his skin. He looked nice, kind. His words read “hello Payton, you’re really good looking. I would love to have you over. Are you sure you’re interested though? It took you a while to respond. Sincerely, Patrick.”

Nervous still, I slowly type, “hey, sorry about that Patrick. Had to run an errand.” A small lie, didn’t want him to know just how anxious and hesitant I was. “I can’t wait to see you if you still want me.”




As quick as before, it now reads “I want you here in an hour. I look forward to kissing you all over. You can have some poppers and I’ll take care of the rest. My address is [redacted] on the West Side.”

‘Poppers?,’ I’d questioned, but didn’t think too much of it. The word had shown up frequently through my browsing but I’d never inquired further as to what it actually was.

I turned off my phone, asking myself if it was too late to cancel but something stubborn in me settled seeing this through. With that, I went to the bathroom to clean up and clean myself out, to do what I’d read about people having to do before having anal sex.


Nightfall, 10 pm.

Riding the MTA train over to his area of Manhattan, I was sweating bullets. Whether from the summer heat or from my nerves, I can’t say, just that I was stressing that other passengers inexplicably knew my intentions.

I felt dirty, wrong, and I hadn’t even done anything. Just typed out a few words.

Exiting the train, every step of the way, my nerves were electric and I questioned my sanity with every moment.

I’m not gay.

Why am I doing this?

What if I don’t like it?

These thoughts persisted until I found myself outside his door. It took all my control to calm myself, wipe the sweat from my brow, and knock. Some shuffling went on inside, he was moving around – I was earlier than the agreed upon arrival time. The door draws open and Patrick greets me like an old friend – that could have been his personality or it could have been a ruse for his neighbors.

Maybe it was both.

Closing the door behind me, he pulls me into his lavish studio apartment – barely shorter than me, he was definitely stronger – though my nerves were shot; I may has well have been putty. Well, everything about me was putty but my cock. It was pressing rock hard against the inside of my pant leg.

And Patrick, he noticed.

A wicked smile curved his lips as he ran his hands up and down my body over my clothes; all the while he circled me like a predatory beast. As he rounded me a second time, his shirt was gone – his chest was hairier than in his pics, his body more built looking. He wasn’t ripped, but he was sturdy. Solid. And his own cock was poking at me through his gym shorts. Whispering “you’re so cute…” and “I wish I’d met you years ago, you’d have never wasted your time on girls,” he sweet talks me as he takes my shirt off for me. A nervous sigh escapes me and he pulls me close, his lips hovering just over mine.

“Close your eyes,” Patrick urges softly.

With his hands caressing the sides of my face, I do just that and his mouth crushes over mine, his tongue working its way in and jousting with mine. I’m more erect than I’ve been in year but I’m still hesitant, uncertain about this. His 5 o’ clock shadow grates at my face as the make out continues.

He’s forceful.

But I’m not running yet.

But with eyes closed and him making passionate aggressive love tommy lips, I don’t realize he’s already drops his pants and his hands are working at mine. It isn’t until his cock is grinding up against mine do I even realize I’m naked. He bucks his hips and fall backwards on the king size bed behind me – he’s been pushing us there since we started – he pounces on me, using his weight to pin me to the mattress as he humps away at my crotch. I surge with fear but he reads me, he knows how to soothe me – he nibbles sweetly at my ear lobes and kisses my neck, peppering compliments in between.


“Your lips taste good.


“Even with hair, your skin feels so smooth.”


“I want you.”

I feel his weight adjusting – I go to open my eyes but he claps his hand over them, uttering seductively “ah ah, not yet, just keep stroking yourself. I’ll tell you when you can open…”

Out of sheer arousal, I obey. Eyes closed, I stroke to the darkness and the idea that he’ll be back.

“Patrick. Oh, Patrick…you feel good…on…top of me…your lips…”

Right then, lost in erotic thought, he scoops my legs up in a fluid motion and pins my knees to my chest – his lubed cock pokes at my fresh hole but still I keep my eyes closed. “Good boy,” he whispers as a tiny bottle slides under my nose, “breathe in,” he demands. I do just that and I go lightheaded as my pulse races and my nerves calm. “

“Breathe again,” he demands again and I inhale sharply, getting whatever he’s giving me. Another head rush, my muscles relax. He lines up his cock and whispers with a smile “I’d feed it to ya but you’re not ready to swallow. Enjoy this.”

I gasp sharply in pain as he inches the tip into my ass – my eyes shoot open, tears about to form but he mashes his shoulders under my knees and forces his mouth over mine again. He pins my hands at my sides with his own and inches further into my ass. It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, the bottle thing must’ve been poppers, but still it burns.

“Baby, I need you to force my dick out,” he pleads in between tongue fighting. A little horrified, I’m hesitant to do it but I yield to him. He knows what he’s doing – I try use my sphincter muscles to force him out…but he slides smoothly into me right up to the base; his balls slap hard against my ass and his tip presses hard against my insides. So warm, so stiff, my ass grips at his cock as pain turns to euphoria. I actually buck towards him, anything to have him more inside me and he chuckles while leaning back to appreciate his handiwork, “there ya go. Way better than pussy, right?”

Halfway to orgasm, I groan “I don’t know!.” I truly don’t – my mind’s a blank, precum oozing from my dick.

He grabs my legs and pulls them over his shoulders, dragging me to the edge of the bed as he does, and with a couple quick pumps, says “way better than getting pussy. You know I’m right.” At my stunned silence, unable to form words, he slides his length in and out, in and out, picking up locomotive speed and fucking my hole with his fat cock. Every time, he hits that button inside me, the one that rocks my pleasure center and every time more, he moans. He’s finding his pace, his rhythm.

But after kissing me deeply and pounding away, he stops and stands up, unsheathing his impressive cock from me. Unable to process, I stare at him questioning and he beckons me with a nod, “come get it.”

He’s cocky, confident. Arrogant, really, but he’s not wrong. I wiggle my butt towards him while trying to hook my feet around his hips and pull him back into me but chuckles again, standing firm and demanding “tell me first. My cock or some random pussy?”

Drowning in arousal, I huff out what he wants to hear, “your hard cock. You should’ve met me years ago, you could’ve always been inside me, painting my insides with your hot cum”

I don’t mean it, I absolutely love pussy, but I mean it in the moment. He’s got me.

“I absolutely need you inside me! Please Patrick! Please!”

Breathing deep, he smiles again and grabs my hips – he slams into me, electrifying me. Again and again, he pounds away at my tender asshole. Without warning, he slides out, flips me on the bed, splits my cheeks and drives himself back in – he’s found his new home and I can feel every rigid contour of his cock within me. Laying down on top of me, his hot breath on the back on my neck, he deftly pins me as he fucks and fucks. Every pump, every thrust, his heavy balls slap slickly against my own.

And I can feel him getting close – his balls are swelling, his thick cock twitching – he presses my face down into the pillows and groans “you’re mine.” And I feel his cum, jet after jet splashing against my insides, thick and hot as his cock still spasms. But he doesn’t remove it, note does he get off me. He shuffles overhead and grabs the poppers – grabbing my head, he forcefully shoves my nose to it again and growls “time for round two.”

Already I could feel him getting hard again and my eyes bugged out as my heart beat raced…


He had fucked me for hours, he had fucked me until my ass went numb. Tired, worn out, I could barely think straight as he snored on top of me; he’d fallen asleep between my legs, his softening dick still planted inside me with his top keeping me weighted down. In between snores, he’d sleeptalk “mine now” and “better for you…than pussy.” I’ll admit, it had been amazing. I still wasn’t attracted to him but something about his cock and his attitude, something about those made me care. And that was terrifying. I wasn’t ready for that. As sore as I was, it took me another hour to slowly shift him off of me so I could actually breathe – of course though, he’d gotten hard in his sleep and dry impaled my ass again.

That definitely hurt. But I didn’t cry out, I just let him sleep hump my ass until warm cum dribbled into me. Ragged breaths, it takes a lot to slide away and off him, to creep from the bed. Quietly, I shuffle my clothes back on and silently creep from the studio to his door, boots in hand. Opening the door, I hold down the handle to keep it from clicking and I slink out into the hallway. Before fully closing it, I memorized his sex sticky body lying there in bed on top of the sheets.

And then I left. I was too terrified to be property. That wasn’t for me, regardless of how hot and heavy it had ended up being.

I never saw or heard from him again, but I can’t help fingering myself every so often while moaning his name until I climax.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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