Jeremy phones. “Hey man, it’s Jeremy.”
“What’s up, Jeremy?”
“Listen man, I want to know—are you sure you don’t have anything? You clean?”
This is how Jeremy let’s me know he wants to get fucked.
“I’m healthy, Jeremy. I get tested, and I only play safe. It’s okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure, Jeremy,” I say, calmly. “I have to take care of myself, too.”
“Okay, cool.” Pause.
“Did you want to meet, Jeremy?”
“No, no, I’m through with that stuff.”
“Okay, Jeremy. Call me whenever you need to.”
“Okay man, thanks.” Click.
Along the way, I have developed a subspecialty: I am a magnet for straight guys who like to get fucked. I keep the ones who are very good looking.
I know what some may think. If these guys like a cock up their ass, how straight can they be?
I try not to be judgmental. If the boy at the end of my cock says he’s straight, then he’s straight.
And really, just because a guy likes to be penetrated doesn’t mean he’s bi or gay. It just means he gets off on having his prostate banged. My guys seem to prefer to get it banged by a dick, the one thing their girl fiends can’t do for them.
I’m happy to oblige.
Jeremy has always been nervous about this. He’s worried about safety, and also a little freaked by his cravings for a good ass fucking.
Not long ago, he called me. “Hey man, it’s me, Jeremy. I’m feigning for it, bad. Can I come over?”
He’s a tall Latino boy, 19, with a cute face, longish wavy hair, and a smooth muscular body. He dresses in loose clothes, very homey. “Wassup, how you doing?” he says. He comes in and paces. “Sorry man, I’m just nervous,” he says, kicking off his shoes. He starts to unbutton his shirt.
“It’s okay,” I say, coming over and holding him around his back. I stop his hands from unbuttoning. “I’ll take care of it.” I unbutton his shirt, and feel his tight belly. I unbuckle his belt, and feel his hard cock.
“C’mon, you have to do me. I’ll suck you, just do me, okay?” He is trembling and his voice is shaking. He follows me to the bedroom and strips, He lies on my bed. “Look, I shaved my asshole for you.”
I’ve never requested that, but I appreciate the gesture. “You are a very beautiful man, Jeremy,” I say, lubing his hole.
I undress, put on a condom, and stand next to the bed. He takes my cock in his mouth, and gives it two deep throat passes.
“Do me, okay? I need it so bad.” He sounds like a junky begging for a fix. I tell him to lie on his back so I can see his face. I push his legs up. I go into him, slow and steady.
I ratchet it up. He gets blissed. “Oh man, I don’t know what it is. I get so much pussy, and I need this.” He talks a lot when I fuck him.
“I’m sure you get a lot of pussy, Jeremy. You’re my very handsome boy.”
“Yeah, I am yours. Do me, I’ll do anything for you. You can use me. Your friends can use me.” He’s giving himself to some fantasy. I put my fingers in his mouth, and he sucks. I fuck hard. “No, I’m going to cum,” he says.
I grab his lean chest and squeeze the muscle. “Cum,” I tell him.
He does. I pull out and send him to shower.
He had only been fucked once before he found me, by a friend. They would jerk off fast with each other, and one time, the friend fucked him. He wanted more, but was too embarrassed to ask his friend for it. So he sees me.
Or he saw me. Maybe he is giving it up, as he says. He’s got my number.
The life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
When told by my wife that our fifteen-year relationship was over, I found that everything in my life was upended. I took solace when friends and family pointed out I was no longer responsible for her personal happiness, just my own—and that of my four children.
I went into marriage as a bisexual kid, suspicious of monogamy. I was a good husband, and played by the rules. Now I'm single again, and wondering if I didn't have it right back then.
This blog picks up my new life in progress—the life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
Photograph by Adrian Buckmaster Photography. New York, NY. July 5, 2015.
(c) 2004-2019. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
Jefferson
View My Complete Profile
I went into marriage as a bisexual kid, suspicious of monogamy. I was a good husband, and played by the rules. Now I'm single again, and wondering if I didn't have it right back then.
This blog picks up my new life in progress—the life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
Photograph by Adrian Buckmaster Photography. New York, NY. July 5, 2015.
(c) 2004-2019. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
Jefferson
View My Complete Profile
1 comment:
Just because we don't comment on sexy posts like this doesn't mean our naughty bits aren't getting all hot and tingly from reading them. *grin*
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