31 October 2011

Chilied Dog

It has to be spoken about.

I debated documenting this topic because it is just gross, but I had to. I've bared my soul to you, the least I could do was be totally honest.

Early on in my hook-up career, I worked on pin-pointing my "type." I figured if I narrowed down my options, I would be bound to find someone to share my life with. (Ask me how that's going now.) I will be the first to admit that feelings and lust have no bounds. You may have your preferences, but 1. you will never be able to choose who you fall for and 2. you can never really be certain your "type" will make you totally happy. Keep an open mind.

With that said, I had only hooked up with white guys when I first came out. After dating Larry - the whitest guy I could find apparently - for nearly two years, I thought about how I needed to diversify my clientel. I've never been with an Asian, Latino, or Black guy. Was I missing out? So I had Darrell come over. Yes, that's what his name was. Darrell was a smooth, dark chocolate guy, late early 40s, killer body - with a crazy huge donkey dick, of course, all established in a few email and picture exchanges. He came over in what seemed like a flash and we got to business.

Ladies and gentlemen: it was one of the top five greatest sexual experiences I have ever had. Was it because he was black and had a grinding rhythm? Was it because he was strong enough to lift and flip my body around? Was it because he gave my knot a rapid-fire tongue lashing? Was it because his baby arm was essentially a baby arm? Or was it pretty much all of the above? I am not certain, but I would have to go with option E. The man could move and it turned me on. He had me on my back, on my side, upside down, hanging over the bed, standing up, and ultimately, on my hands and knees.

But all good things come to an end.

After his non-verbal, tapering off, jack-hammering thrusting announcement that he was done, he pulled out. I felt it happening. The gyrating and motion of his pelvis acted like a plunger. Not only did his rubber-covered penis slide out of my man-cave, but also what came out with it can only be described by the picture above lest I regurgitate my fucking lunch. I was motified. I was embarrassed. I was at a loss for words when I turned around to see what I thought happened actually did happen. I buried my face in the palms of my hands. (Scary, right? Happy Halloween!) But with a smile, Darrell pulled off the condom and got dressed while saying the same words as today's "point of the conversation:"

Point of the conversation: You play around with mud, you are bound to get dirty.

- DeeCue

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