Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Yellow Diamonds In The Sky

I tell him to lie on the bed and get himself started.

He says he needs to smoke something first. Residue from a pipe he has nothing to put in. He smokes and his eyes begin to glaze over, his face starts to sag a little. Then, he sits there and slouches into a faint daydream. I ask if he wants any music, any television, and I pull out my laptop and get it running. He says he wants music. Something instrumental. I put on Sigur Ros and he asks for Godspeed as he takes off his pants. He sits up on his knees and spreads his legs to show his crotch, bulging out, behind black underwear. I pause and look, and then I write a sentence.

Then another.

As he begins to rub the tip of his cock, I see his underwear slowly darken with moisture and I tell him to slide them down, so I can watch him masturbate. My pants start to tighten, and I look at the glowing screen in front of me to keep my focus on writing, and not coming.

I wanted to write with a visual stimulant. They’re easy to find if you know where to look or where to put an ad. For every twisted request in every classified section there’s a lonely perv waiting to answer. Put an ad out for someone to tickle your asshole with chopsticks while you pour milk over yourself and jerk off. See what happens. See how many replies you get saying they’re up for that and more. See how many replies you get with no words, just pictures of crooked dicks and come-covered stomachs.

Put an ad out that you’re looking for two people: one to hold your wrists and the other to hold your ankles, and then say you want them to swing you with your erect member flopping back and forth, smacking against your hips with solid “thwap”s every time until you can’t hold it and you have to shoot your seed all over, ropes of cum shooting up and away and over you and them and the carpet and the cat. You’ll get replies from people who want to fuck the cat.

I had put out an ad stating I wanted to watch a guy get himself off while I write from across the room. I said I might join in, but there would be no fucking, and there would be no money involved. Not the most graphic or enticing, but I didn’t want a fucking slut or some fag ready to put things in his asshole. Hopefully, I would get a slightly lonely guy who isn’t very sexual and is looking for something bold and daring that he can do for himself, something that would be his dark little secret. Something he could later - years later - when he’s around all his new friends, enjoying cheap red wine, sitting in a circle all slightly tipsy, he could mention that he got himself off while a man he didn’t know watched, and wrote until he couldn’t take it anymore, and had to feed himself to him.

And, I got one reply. We didn’t talk over the phone; it was all done via email and texting. We set up a date, and time, and here we are.

There’s a man whose name I don’t know, seven feet away from me, undressed and rubbing the stiff shaft that juts out from between his legs. His eyes are closed, hiding in a dirty, sexual affair that needs only him and his fist, now rapidly pounding away.

The screen begins to blur and multiply and my hand grips my twitching cock under my jeans, squeezing it and moving it along my thigh. It’s getting to be too much and I take off my belt, unbutton my pants and slide the zipper down releasing this spring-loaded erection.

When he opens his eyes, he sees me standing in front of him. Without hesitation, one hand reaches for a handful of dick and the other starts to vigorously slide north and south along his shaft of pleasure. My hands go behind his head and bring it down so he can start sucking and tonguing. He engulfs it gratefully and moans with thankful pleasure. Gags and muffled whimpers escape from the places where his lips aren’t sealed around me and a line of drool begins to stretch and drip down the corner of his mouth. Tears run streaks down his cheeks every time his solemn, blue eyes water up. I pull it out and stroke it, smack it on his lips and wanting tongue. Give him a good hit on the cheek and then back in his mouth, making him squirm for a second.

He’s laying on his back now, legs apart and bent, not staying still, his left hand giving him the pleasure he knows best, while I slowly move my hips to fuck his mouth. His right hand on my thigh pushes back when I get too deep. His mouth juts around building up spit until he has to swallow and pull me out to get the breath he’s needed for a while now. He sucks in air just as hard as he gives head and when he’s full he puts me back in, sucking it like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

His hips rise, begging when I replace his hand with mine. He licks between his fingers and smiles. This is when he looks at me, the stranger with his fingers all over him, standing over him, blocking the ceiling light, and covering him with my bearing shadow. This is when he says something. And I tell him to say it again.

I want you to blow your load in my mouth.

His mouth opens for a scream but nothing comes out, eyes wide and surprised they focus on nothing but look at me intently. His lips pucker together and he pouts. I start jerking myself next to his face. My hand violently coming at him I want to grab both his ears and fuck his face until I feel the back of his skull. I want to coat his throat with my pre-cum and empty my sac over his face. And, at that thought, I am unleashed, sending come across his face, another shot up into his hair, one in his mouth and he takes it, all of it, like a baby bird being fed.

He pushes what went in his mouth out and it slides down his chin. He smears my come across his chest and down between his thighs. He licks his lips and sighs, squeezes the tip of my cock for the few last drops and they drip onto his tongue and slide away. After a moment of catching our breath, he sits up and asks for a towel. It’s with that question that any lustful or sexual vibe that was in the air is quickly extinguished and we’re back to being strangers, rather than strangers that want to get off with each other.

I get a towel, and use it first, then toss it to him. He wipes up what hasn’t already dried and lacquered and offers to take the towel home and wash it. I say it’s fine, don’t worry about it. My cock slowly goes back to being a penis, giving off faint jolts of a fading orgasm. I put my pants back on while he gets himself dressed and configured. After making sure he has everything he came with, he stands up. I ask if he enjoyed himself and he blushes with his head down. He doesn’t look at me when I walk him to the door and he doesn’t turn around or wave when he walks to his car.

He gets in and drives away.

When I come back to my room I see his black underwear, wet in the center, lying across my pillow.


marv said...

i wish i had as much adventure as you. I feel like a granny knitting mittens at home.

LMB said...

I wouldn't wish my life on anyone. It's horrible, too.