BK38
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Apr 2, 2009
- Messages
- 16,116
I reached over to pound the rest of my beer. I'm going to want to be a little more buzzed if I am going to hook up with him. I unbutton his pants. He's not hard yet. This is hot. He's not repressed. He's not into me. This is going to be a challenge and somehow I know it's going to happen. I'm already rock hard. His facial hair pressing into me, his aggressive tongue, the odor emanating from him that should otherwise encourage nausea, his callous, dried, worked out hands on my body. He's beyond hairy and while I have some body hair this is wonderful. I don't have to use words, I know it's been a while. As soon as my hand is working his dick up and down it's starting to get hard and he's making this sound like he's closer to orgasm than a full erection at this point. I slow down. I lightly slap his shoulders, his pecs, his abs. I grunt in approval and this helps him get harder - he doesn't find this erotic but the body sensations are being interpreted as PLEASURE and it's dark enough where his mind is thinking more about some whore than me anyways. This is hot.
I do not need to be the object of desire in your mind.
I'll never know what your mind is doing anyways, what the fuck do I care? Do you want to know what my mind is thinking about when I cum? I've never been asked before, at least that I can remember. Often it is the partner I am with. Sometimes it is not. Whatever gets your rocks off.
He's visibly wanting hands on his dick now. I'm playing with his balls, his taint. He doesn't want me to go lower I am sure; would I? No. Gotta shower the COVID out of his crack first. It's probably got sweat from head to toe circulating all up in his ass crack, a stench so foul I won't begin to describe or readers will gag. I go back to jerking it while playing with his balls: this is it. It's all he can take for ROUND ONE. He shoots thick rope like strings of cum onto his hairy chest, contorting and groaning and growling like a wild beast; fists clenched, occasionally headed toward his dick as if his body doesn't realize it's not his hands causing his orgasm...
You should write smut for repressed, rich, Trump supporting older women who talk about how the gays are causing the downfall of America whilst secretly getting all sexed up on the idea of some man on man action and wishing their husbands would fuck them instead of the call-boys and girls at the country club. I'll admit, it's a very specific niche, but it could be highly lucrative.