3/29/09

I'd corresponded with Mark for about a month - neither of us was quick about getting back to emails. What I knew: he was married, 45, and he was looking for someone to be his bitch.

We finally set up to meet Sunday morning at a coffee place. When I asked him how I'd recognize him, i.e., what was he wearing, he said "gray suit." Huh? On Sunday morning? Was he sneaking out of church or something? When I arrived a the place, there he was, right next to the door. Gray suit? Check. Turns out he's a hotel manager of some kind. Nice hotel, too, from the looks of the suit.

He was, as advertised, middle aged. Not in a bad way. But not what I call hot, either. But no matter, I'm still liking what I'm seeing. He's maybe 5'9", and 195. Not fat, but not in great shape, either. But healthy, just not sleek. Overall, he was definitely serviceable. And he had a great attitude. Told me in a very friendly, nonchalant way that once we got into it, I was going to do what he told me he wanted, wasn't I? Oh, yeah, you need a bitch. And I'm volunteering. We're off in a cab within 5 minutes.

Once we get into his place - an unmade-up hotel room, naturally - he was quickly in charge. "Strip" was his first order. I scrambled out of my clothes, while he took a decidedly leisurely path to nakedness. The first thing he did was to unzip and haul out his already hard cock. It was build like him: thick. I'd say it was a true 7", and a 6" around. Jutted straight out from his bod, and upward touch. Nice fat head. I was out of my clothes and on my knees - and on his cock - immediately. He kept undressing slowly. And oh, yeah, he likes to talk dirty. Good man. Demanding to know whether I like that cock,to which I answer with as enthusiastic an "uh huh" as I could with my mouth full of my cock.

Once he was naked, the average guy picture was complete. The man was not a gym rat, and had an average amount of unclipped body hair. Nothing special, nothing bad. And a really sweet cock. We got going on the bed, and he continued forcefully at me. When my gag reflex showed itself, he demanded that I lay my head back over the side of the bed. He stepped before me, and told me in no uncertain terms that I was going to learn to deep throat. Now.

He was right, I've never been able to deep throat. Strong gag reflex, what can I say? I've tried the hang the head over the side of the bed routine, never worked for me. I'd worked with bananas, trying to learn. Nope. I've had guys just push on my head, hoping I'll go deeper. But this time was going to be different. Mark smoothly, but without slowing or stopping, just pushed his fat cock past my gag reflex. It wasn't easy, but I simply couldn't gag. No opportunity. I pushed him back off me, and he relented. And gave me a moment. And went back in again. I fought him, he stayed a little longer. We did a couple more rounds of this before he let me up. I couldn't believe it. I'd just been properly throat fucked for the first time in my life.

But he wasn't going to give me a rest. It was time for me to get fucked. I went into this expecting to get fucked. But, damn, his cock is thick. He instructs me on the ground rules: I'm going to be on top while I get it in. But once it's in, and I say so, he's in control. OK, I signed on. Let's roll. I work it in. Yeah, it's big, and this isn't easy. Once I'm reasonably comfortable, he wants me standing, and bent over. He fucks me forcefully for a while, but it hurts. I beg for doggy style, on my knees. He allows this, but still fucks me hard and fast and it still hurts. He rolls me onto my back, and fucks me in a hard, fast, unstoppable way. It's good, but it still hurts. He finally lets me up, and orders me into the shower. We wash up, and puts me on my knees in the bathroom for the final push. He works my mouth good and hard, and finishes manually. The dude sprays really, really hard - not like a gentle rain, but more like hail - all over my face and chest.

He's normal and friendly afterward. Said affirmatively we're going to do this again, like his bitch ain't got no choice.

Back home, I was in pain. I mean raw. Really raw. And sore. Reminded me of how much I hate KY. Sorry, but water-based lube and my ass and latex just don't mix. I'd forgotten that. I don't take it up the ass too often. I remain in pain a good 4 days. If this is going to happen again, it's going to have to be different ground rules. Mark fucks like a guy who's never been fucked - which has its ups and downs.

UPDATE: one week later, he writes back. He wants more. I'm hesitating (9 days, at this point). Writing this post is giving me some impetus. I think he and I need to do another cup of coffee before he treats me like a bitch again. But I think it's gonna happen again.

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