I wanted a BJ. A guy answered and wanted to give it to me. He sent over a face pic. Him standing, on the Great Salt Lake overlook wearing a brown jacket. Sly smile. Not totally hunky, but good looking. Young looking. He wanted a face pic. I've learned my lesson. Never send one. He was a little reluctant, I was persistent, finally, he invited me over.
He was a tall guy, like 6'4 and Height, weight, proportional like he advertized. Actually I thought he looked a little thin.
"Mike" invited me in. Somehow the house didn't fit him. It was his parent's place, he explained. they had both passed away and he and siblings were getting it ready to sell it.
There were boxes of belongings packed up amongst the sparse, vintage furniture.
"Where do you want me?" I asked. He guided me to the couch in the middle of the living room. I undid the belt, dropped the pants and boxers, then set my boxers on the floral grandma couch, and sat down on them.
Mike dropped to his knees on the long green shag carpeting and went to work.
It was a good blow job, but not a great one. I asked for a little more suction, and got it. I could see he was getting a little warm with all of the bobbing, so asked him to take off his shirt. Really, I wanted to see his body.
He took off his Postal Service golf shirt, and revealed a wirey back that was covered in black hair. It wasn't terribly thick, but somewhat long. As he was sucking my cock, I stroked his head and then his hairy shoulders and back. It was a little strange. The hair wasn't course, but soft. It felt almost like petting a nice doggy.
Mike took a long time to bring me to orgasm, and I'm not sure he was really enjoying himself, but I thought he looked sexy enough while he was doing it. At one point I wondered if his dead parents might be looking down from Heaven, watching their baby boy sucking of some stranger in the front parlor of their old home.
Why do I think of shit like that?
Finally, Mike started giving me what I needed to get off. Slow rhythmic sucking with his tongue rubbing the sweet spot, over my frenulum just under my dick head. Oh that sweet feeling. Like candy for my brain.
We had already discussed in our e-mails where I would cum. "So do you want/expect a guy to swallow? big loads? " he asked.
I let him know my feelings. I would be cumming in his mouth. What he did with my gob afterward was his business.
He brought me to climax, I uttered "you want my cum now?" in semi audible gibberish, and he sucked even harder and faster.
Spurt, spurt. spurt, I pumped my wad into Mikes mouth. By this time he was moist with perspiration from working on my dick. He stayed on my dick until I came down from the high of my orgasm, and then, he swallowed it.
Good boy, Mikey.
I quickly dressed, thanked him and headed out the door. We e-mailed a couple times after. I though he looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. He confessed to working at the post office, and maybe that's where I saw him. Perhaps his boyish looks caught my eye. Who knows.
That was number 99. Next stop, number 100, and then end of this blog as I know it. After that, I'm still going to keep track of my encounters, but not write about each and everyone in detail like this. Actually, I'm not sure what I'm going to do.
Please keep this blog going, too good to stop.
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