sharing my sexual past/story (1)
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Posted:Sep 18, 2012 7:45 pm
Last Updated:May 2, 2024 10:38 am 36496 Views
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My first erection also came with my first kiss, in first grade. It was with the second cutest girl in the school, and I would later go on to kiss the best looking girl, that same year. Then acne, dandruff, braces, and schoolwork took me out of the running for any more of those treasured kisses, for nearly nine years.
The first and only wet dream I can remember was very disturbing. It involved a stall in a public bathroom, and a naked woman sitting on the toilet with a bullet hole in her forehead. Yet, I am not as fucked up as you might think.
I learned about masturbation from a neighborhood , who also liked to “play” with his sister under the covers, at their house. I think we were in Junior High School but it may have been sooner. For a while, I did it wrong, but still managed to get myself off. I think the first two times, nothing came out, then I hit that big moment when there was actually ejaculate to witness and dispose of. Shortly after that, I began sneaking peeks at nude magazines and watching late-night Showtime and HBO, hoping for the sight of more than a pair of boobs.
I don’t remember sex being explained to me, clinically or otherwise. Watching movies, and listening to people talk about it, I understood what needed to happen, and it didn’t gross me out or mystify me all that much. It did scare me though, and I wimped out of an opportunity to lose my virginity once or twice. Simply chose to break up with the girl instead of join her at that next level. I wasn’t so much afraid of sex, I was just frightened of maybe doing something wrong and getting laughed at.
My first sexual experiences were really with boys my own age. They were actually friends that I could manipulate into doing things to/for me. These were the times when I was attractive to no member of the opposite sex, but still had desires as yet unexplored or unsatisfied. I would channel those unanswered wants into some time in juvenile detention, after writing nasty sex notes to a woman on my paper route, but that’s another story for another time.
I did not lose my virginity until I was 18 years old. That’s right; 18. I wanted to be in love, even though I was desperate to perform many sexual acts, and so I waited. Not in all the years since, did I decide that I would only have sex with one gender. I’ve always known I would date and fall in love with women, but also knew deep down that I would wind up being intimate with more men. I can’t explain the reasons why this is so, but if I gave my opinion it would probably offend many of you. So, I’ll save that for later as well.
I knew that I was kinky at a very young age. I used to spank the girls from across the street – there were three of them, and they were absolutely adorable – long before I even understood why it felt so good to do it. I remember we would also pee together. Not on each other, but we loved to watch each other. I wonder if those girls ever grew up to be perverts?
I did not enter the world of kink until I was in my early 20’s, and found it so boring at the time that I quickly pulled myself right back out. Munches, negotiating scenes, and most of the rules/etiquette/attitudes that seemed to go with the BDSM folks/scene did not fit me at the time, so I chose to seek kinky partners outside of that community. I did rather well, and met some crazy people. There are plenty of stories to tell there as well.
I have been married once, to a stripper, and we were divorced shortly after I got out of prison. Go figure. We were both sex freaks while we were together, but she still felt the need to “cheat” on me by being dishonest about the things she was doing. I can’t stand being with people who are bad, simply because it feels good to be bad, but I understand them. I was once one of those people, and can still be guilty of it from time to time, but hopefully on levels that are much less destructive to myself, and others. The rules I break now involve smoking a bowl or getting a blow job in the basement at work, not carrying on a relationship with two women at once without either of them knowing about it. I’m not trying to be that guy any more.
Growing up, my cock was average length and width, but through the use of a cock ring and regular “exercise” I gained length, girth, stamina, control and strength. My prick is what it is today, not because I was born with it, but because I worked for it.
That’s just a taste of my sexual story. There’s much more to tell, so stay tuned…
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more oral in the basement
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Posted:Sep 17, 2012 6:52 pm
Last Updated:May 2, 2024 10:38 am 34730 Views
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My day at work was quite taxing, and I still have some video editing to take care of before I’m officially done for the day, so this post isn’t going to be very long. I am one tired fellow.
Thursday afternoon my cock sucking friend paid me a surprise visit while I was working the sales floor. I finished helping a nice old lady and then once again led him across the street, and down into the basement of one of the warehouses. This time I had my cock out, and in his mouth for about three minutes before my business phone rang. I didn’t tell him to stop, and he barely hesitated before continuing to suck me off while I talked. He kept his hands off of my cock, doing his best to only give me his mouth and throat, and after finishing the phone call I did my best to relax and get some use out of him. I always have to keep one eye on the stairs, and my ears peeled for the sound of footsteps, but the excitement factor more than makes up for the small amount of risk. I get off on not only getting my dick sucked during work, but also by the possibility of being discovered. Being bad feels so very good!
I really did my best to enjoy his mouth and throat for a while, but eventually I had to relent, and unload. He swallowed every drop, and I’m sure would have sucked me to completion again if I’d commanded it. The guy has skills, there’s no denying that. He also enjoys himself, and I know this because he came back the very next day to do it again. I was unfortunately very busy with a project that I could not get away from, so I had to send him away without dumping a load in his throat. My hope is, he’ll be back later this week, as I could use another helping of that…
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"The EsKape" on WTNRradio
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Posted:Sep 16, 2012 6:36 pm
Last Updated:May 2, 2024 10:38 am 33959 Views
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Unlike last week's show, this one is as diverse and unpredictable as always. It's less about cohesion and much more about spontaneity and diversion. I call the show "The EsKape" because I hope people will tune in and feel like their being taken for a ride. Sometimes the ride is dark, languid and abrasive while at other times it is a wild, bumpy, frightening mess. That's probably not the way most DJs would want to describe their show, but I'm not most DJs. Tune in and find out why I say that...
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Fuck Away the Frustrations of the Day
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Posted:Sep 16, 2012 4:50 pm
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2012 6:28 pm 34270 Views
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Where I work, we deal with quite a diverse array of male and female customers. On any given day, the number of beautiful women that are spotted in the store can reach double digits, and I don’t mind telling you that us men will often call and alert each other about a particularly gorgeous sighting. I’ve had my coworkers rushing up stairs, across a street, and through half the store just to get a glimpse of a set of legs, or tits, or whatever. We like to joke and call it an unspoken and unrecognized benefit that the company we work for doesn’t even know it’s offering. The majority of these women are married, and most of the guys at work have girlfriends, so it’s just a bit of harmless objectification that can keep us going for hours.
For years I worked in porn shops, and you can imagine how horny I probably was most of the time, when I went home after an uneventful graveyard shift. Working at the place I do now, it’s sort of the same thing. Sometimes I go home so damn aroused, I literally walk in the door, strip off my clothes, grab my girlfriend, bend her over the nearest object and fuck her until I have emptied the days’ aggression either into or on her. It being summer right now, the frequency of these occurrences has been up a bit lately. So much lovely flesh on display!
Thursday, I rode home in a very excited state. I didn’t necessarily plan on having sex right when I got in the door, but I knew that I wanted to have it within the hour. When I arrived, I climbed the stairs to the main level of the townhouse, and immediately peeled off my bike pants, as is usually my habit. It’s been so hot recently that I’ve been making the trip without wearing a shirt, so beyond the pants I was only wearing shoes and socks. I ride hard, and the last few blocks before home is up hill, so I am usually sweaty no matter what time of year it is. The first thing I want when I get into the house is to cool down, and the quickest way to do that is to get my clothes off.
On Thursday, I peeled off my pants and socks, and gave my girlfriend a kiss and hug. Being sweaty doesn’t make me wonderful to embrace, as you can imagine, so it was brief but full of love. My body has been benefiting from not only the bike riding but the heavy lifting at work, and I think on this particular day I was looking very muscular and endowed. Sometimes the ride home can get me a little erect too, even if my mind isn’t on sex, but on this day I think it was a combination of both. My girlfriend made some flattering comments about my physique, and began to get a certain look on her face that I recognized as unabashed hunger, and moments later we were standing face to face in the kitchen, fucking. Now, she is almost a foot shorter than me, but we have found a way to fuck facing each other, while standing up. Most of the time it happens in the shower, but on this day I wanted to do it in this particular position because of our body heat. I knew I was going to be fucking, so I didn’t want my body hovering over hers, or hers over mine.
We stood, face to face, with my cock penetrating her at a very odd and severe angle, and I took out my lust and aggression from the day on her twat. Grasping one amazing ass cheek in each hand, I stared into her eyes as I pulled her towards me and pounded away at her pussy with both enjoyment and anger. She looked fantastic right there in front of me, and made some wonderful faces of erotic discomfort while I did my worst to her cunt. Never once did we deviate from this position, and eventually it started to get really painful for me. As good as it felt, I had to bring the fun to an end by allowing myself to orgasm. Dumping my seed into her, I pulled out, wiped off, and went right to making myself the usual after work snack I normally prepare, when I get home. My girlfriend cleaned herself up, and went back to working at her desk in the living room…
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pardon the absence (an explanation)
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Posted:Sep 12, 2012 7:17 pm
Last Updated:May 2, 2024 10:38 am 33276 Views
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It’s always important to me that I don’t sound like a fool when I put up a blog post, but this often means I spend too much time composing, and not enough time actually putting up things for you to read. Right now, there are at least four mostly finished bits of writing on my desktop that just aren’t good enough yet. It’s silly, I know, but I’m hoping you’ll forgive me when I am suddenly absent for several days.
To give you an idea of how much free time I actually have to write, compose music, work on my radio program, and enjoy a moment with my girlfriend, I’d like to tell you what my daily life is like. Maybe that will also help you understand why I will often go several days without posting here. It’s not that there’s nothing going on, or worth sharing, it’s that there’s too much!
6:40am - Wake up
6:40 to 8:30am – Breakfast, emails, shower, prepare for bike ride to work
8:30 to 9am – Ride to work, change into work clothes
9 to 5pm – Work
5 to 5:30pm – Ride home, change out of bike clothes
5:30 to 6:30pm – Prepare and eat dinner
6:30 to 10pm – All the activities that I listed when I was talking about “free time” plus things like working on my adult video business, keeping up with people on Facebook, and other simple and relaxing activities like watching a movie or reading a book. I am lucky to have around 3 hours a night to do those things because…
10 to 6:40am – Sleep!
Sleep is important, especially since my job can so often be very physically demanding. I also ride to and from work five days a week, and don’t stop doing so when the weekend arrives. My body seriously needs time to rest, so I do my damnedest to give it what it needs. This includes a pretty clean, decent diet, so I am looking pretty damn good for my age.
My weekends are usually very busy, as you can imagine. In addition to catching up on all the things I simply cannot accomplish during the week I try to find a large section of time to spend with my girlfriend. Incidentally, she and I will be “breaking up” and moving out at the end of this month, but that’s not what this post is about at all. More on that in a few days…
Right now, it’s 7pm. That means I’ve worked a full day, rode the bike home, cooked and devoured dinner, and now I’m trying to catch up on the blog. Once I push the “Post” button I will likely log out, check a few emails, and then either look for a place to live, work on my radio program, or perhaps do some more writing. I know I need to start putting up some more pictures for you to enjoy.
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"The EsKape" on WTNRradio
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Posted:Sep 8, 2012 3:22 pm
Last Updated:May 2, 2024 10:38 am 30814 Views
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For over a year I have been a DJ for WTNRradio, producing a two-hour show every week. Up until today, the name of the show has been "Our Ruinous Music" but that will hopefully be changing shortly. That I am renaming my show does not mean that I am going to change the way I DJ. You will still find the same eclectic mix that I always provide, unless I am highlighting and artist, genre, or uploading a live show that week.
Today's show is all about dungeon music, and it will be available for your listening pleasure on my channel, for the next seven days. Next Saturday, I will be uploading a new show, which I guarantee will be much less focused. You can visit my Archive any time you want and listen to or download any of my past shows, for free.
The address is on the picture. If you can't get that to work, just look for "K" while you are visiting WTNRradio. That's "K", not "DJ K".
Tonight, I will be doing a live set for my friend NaughtyMinXXX, who runs a kinky party every month at a place called Sindicate in SE Portland. More about that party in a future post...
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about me section (2)
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Posted:Sep 8, 2012 3:03 pm
Last Updated:Nov 22, 2013 12:54 pm 30669 Views
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Before I start sharing all these crazy stories about me, my life, my sexual escapades and so on, I should probably give you the basics about who I am. I've never been good at this, so forgive me if I ramble or get totally off track.
I was born the first day of December, 1972, in Walla Walla, Washington, which means I will be 40 years old in a few months. I pretty much grew up in, and have remained very close to, the Pacific NW, living in cities like Seattle, Spokane, and of course Portland. My mother's side of the family was mostly American Indian, while my father's was primarily of European/German/Polish descent. When you look at the history of the Polish, and the American Indians, you can see why my friend Dewaine dubbed me a very unlucky race. Throughout my public school education, my grades were excellent, but I was often bored and mischievous. I made it through the 11th grade before quitting, so I could just go out on my own and get a job. I would later get my GED, earning it with an honors score, while facing a few years in prison. Yes, I have been to jail many times, and to prison twice, but I'm not going to tell you any more about that right now.
I am an introvert. Antisocial, but only because I learned many years ago that people are mean-spirited jerks you simply cannot trust, that will talk behind your back and otherwise disappoint you many times during your so-called friendship. See, I'm rambling. As stated in my profile, I am artistic and creative, and hold a very special place in my heart for music. I love to go see live performances, but also appreciate ballet, theatre, opera, and many other forms of more primitive entertainment. Going to the arcade and playing video games is a guilty pleasure of mine, as is bowling. My musical taste is vast, and it's often easier to just say I haven't found an appreciation for much Country or Pop music, then try to list the kinds of music I like. I try to remain open to almost anything. In addition to listening to music, I am also a DJ, both online and for local kinky parties. I also write my own songs, and have an album out for sale right now.
For the past 10 years I have been a bicycle rider, and when I say this I mean that it has been my main form of transportation. During an average year, I will rack up nearly 1000 miles, and don't stop riding no matter what the weather is like. That means I can be seen out in the snow and ice too, and I suppose that makes me a bit loony. Thankfully the winters in Portland are only severe once in a great while. Riding keeps me fit and in shape, at least from the abs down, and my day job takes care of the rest. I won't reveal too much about where I work, except to say I am in both sales, and the warehouse side of the business. This means I often spend many hours a day lifting and moving heavy objects, which keeps my upper body looking pretty good as well. All in all, I get enough exercise during my daily routine that I don't really need to visit a gym. As it stands, I like my physique, and hope you will enjoy it too.
Sex is important to me, but so are love and friendships. Being an antisocial introvert means I do not have many friends, but seriously cherish the ones I do. It also means that when I fall in love, I fall hard, get serious quick, and often revolve my world around that person. That's probably not the healthiest thing to do, but it's who I am. I've never been in love with a man, but I've certainly loved my male friends, so that should make it pretty clear to everyone that my interests lie in the opposite sex. Romantic love is reserved for the ladies, but love in general is for all.
This is just another taste of who I am - keep reading for learn more.
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penis pic
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Posted:Sep 6, 2012 7:19 am
Last Updated:Jan 28, 2013 7:51 pm 28816 Views
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It's early Thursday morning, and I don't really have time to make a decent post, so I'm just going to put up a picture of my beautiful cock and leave it at that. Maybe I will come home from work and write something...
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stealing cars to move to Portland
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Posted:Sep 4, 2012 6:51 pm
Last Updated:May 2, 2024 10:38 am 43177 Views
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Many years ago, I lived in Washington State, and during that time found myself in a relationship with two very attractive women who were the polar opposite of each other. One was tall, quiet, calm and seemingly sane while the other was small, loud, dramatic and clearly insane. I got it in my head to move them both to Portland, and having little money at the time, needed to find a way to transport us, and our belongings there. I won’t say I was so broke I couldn’t afford to rent a moving truck, but I will say that transportation in general was something that needed to be addressed before the move could take place. Living where we were in Washington, I hadn’t really needed a vehicle, and truth be told I wouldn’t need one while living in Portland either, but it was the getting there part where it was going to be at least convenient, if not completely necessary. At that time in my life, I was not averse to stealing whatever I needed, and came upon a simple but effective scheme to acquire a vehicle.
This was many, many years ago – so many that I won’t be talking about using the computer to search classified ads – but I’m sure the scheme would be just as easy to pull off today as it was back then. Using a local periodical that was focused specifically on selling cars, trucks, boats, motorcycles and so on, I found a car that I thought would have no trouble making the trip to Portland without breaking down. Using a pay phone, I contacted the owner, and arranged to meet somewhere close by so that I could test drive the vehicle they were trying to sell. The very first person I called agreed to meet me, and thirty gut-wrenching minutes later I was sitting in the passenger seat of a Volkswagen I was supposed to steal. The owner/seller drove around briefly, explaining something complicated about the exhaust system to me, while I sat and tried to get the tension to leave my body. When we pulled into a parking lot so I could get behind the wheel, I knew what I needed to do was jump in the car and take off before the owner could get in on the passenger side, but I couldn’t do it. I chickened out, telling the driver that I was no longer interested, and then quickly walked away.
The next time I set up a meeting, it was also to check out a Volkswagen. I don’t know why I was so enamored with the vehicles, except to say that I thought they would not be flashy, or draw attention, and that there were plenty of people driving them in Portland at the time. If I was going to be in a stolen vehicle, I didn’t want to stand out, and getting a Volkswagen seemed like the answer to that. I remember showing up at our meeting place, just as nervous as I had been the first time, but determined to pull it of nonetheless. Greeting the owner with a smile, I suggested we make our way off the main road, and do some cruising through quieter areas of town. I hopped in the drivers seat immediately, and we were off for a very short but tense drive into one of the nearby neighborhoods. I tested the breaks and steering, asked ridiculous questions about the car that made it sound like I was seriously interested, and then finally pulled over and stated that I would like to look under the hood. Without putting the car in park, or even undoing my seatbelt, I reached over and grabbed the door handle, throwing open the door and acting as if I were preparing to step out. Maybe the woman sitting next to me wasn’t paying close attention, or perhaps she was just anxious to be polite, but she stepped out of the car, and into the street without even hesitating. I remember she did the most perfect thing in the world too – put the proverbial cherry on top, if you will – and shut the passenger door behind her. I watched her take a couple of steps, looked down like I was pretending to search for the hood release lever, then pulled my leg back in, and the door shut behind it. Without so much as a glance towards the owner of the car, I pushed down on the gas pedal, and sped off. I only looked in the rearview mirror once as I pulled away, but what I saw, was the woman waving her hands in the air like she’d been shipwrecked on an island, and was glimpsing a rescue boat for the first time in weeks.
I used the Volkswagen to begin moving girlfriend #1 to Portland the very next day. I think it actually took us two trips back and forth, to get everything shifted from one place to the other, but we managed to do it all in a car that was very hot. The car was also not in the greatest shape, it turned out, so when it came time to move girlfriend #2 to Portland I decided to ditch the Volkswagen and get another car. This time I chose something that was still non-descript, but had a value of over $10,000. The first person I contacted this time around set up a meeting with me, but on the day of called to cancel, explaining that someone the night before had taken it for a test drive and hit a deer. My ride out of town had sustained serious damage and would need to be repaired before it could be put back on the market. Of course, I wasn’t interested in stealing something that had been in a wreck, so I went back to the paper and found another likely candidate. This time I agreed to meet the people at their home, driving the Volkswagen and parking it a few blocks away before approaching the house on foot. Getting introductions and pleasantries aside, we made our way across their front lawn, to the vehicle waiting at the curb. It was a Mazda this time, and I’ll never forget how good the car looked after driving that Volkswagen nearly into the ground. The sight of it gave me confidence, and that is how I proceeded.
The owner got in and started the car, to let it warm up a bit, and this time I asked right away to see the engine. He pulled the hood-release lever, I lifted the hood, and after a few minutes of quiet contemplation stated that I was ready to take it for a test drive. The driver’s side door was open, but the passenger’s was not, and I recall leaving the chore of closing the hood to the owner, so that I could get in and get his door locked before he could reach it. That is exactly what I did, and this time I waited until he was at the door and trying to get in before I drove off. Unlike the woman, he only threw his hands up into the air once, with what I am guessing was either confusion or resignation, and then I was taking a corner and driving away with another stolen vehicle. Karma or bad luck played a role in the selection of this particular vehicle, though, as I began experiencing problems with it right away. It turned out the owner had been in an accident, and not only was the airbag completely missing, the vehicle was also having electrical problems. Sometimes it would start, but sometimes I’d have to pop the hood, get out, jiggle the battery cable, and then try it a few more times before it would finally come to life. This was a minor inconvenience I would learn to live with during the very short time it was in my possession.
With the Mazda, I moved my second girlfriend to Portland, and then made the mistake of keeping it for a while. What I should have done at the time, was park it on a busy street and leave the keys in it, so someone else could take it and get caught with it later, but instead, I continued to drive it. Months later, I would get pulled over near the Oregon Coast, and wind up in jail for Grand Theft Auto, but that’s another story for another time.
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oral service in the basement
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Posted:Sep 3, 2012 4:49 pm
Last Updated:Sep 3, 2012 4:51 pm 40254 Views
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I am a member of a site that helps men hook up with other men, the name of which I will not reveal here. For me, these meetings are of a strictly sexual nature. I’ve not come across an authentically kinky man who is into, or interested in, the lifestyle. As I am a very sexual being though, and need a variety of places to spend my sexual energy, I stop in regularly to see if anyone is expressing interest in me. The site tells me who has viewed my profile recently and allows me a limited amount of communication because I am not a paying member. It’s usually more than I need, as I am not shy about sharing my personal email address with people who I think are worth my time, and seem at least mildly sane. Asking them to contact me away from the site is a good way to weed out the fools who aren’t serious about getting together, or are indeed too mentally unbalanced to follow basic orders. You have no idea how many bright prospects suddenly become incoherent, or disappeared off the face of the earth, when I asked them to email me at my private address. Strange behavior I’ve come to realize is actually the norm.
Anyways, this site has rarely failed to deliver a good time. Actually, it’s not the site that delivers, it’s me using it and being the sexy, confident, demanding, dominant cock that I am that does it. There are always plenty of new members, so I never have to go very long without one of them offering to suck my cock or something along those lines. So many offers come through, in fact, that I quickly began to not only weed out those that had difficulty following simple orders, I also made an attempt to only visit those who could truly give me a memorable experience. Getting my dick sucked quickly became getting a back and neck massage, followed by some rimming action, then deep oral until I was satisfied. In times of great confidence and abundance, I began to demand a tip, or tribute, just to sweeten the deal and make me feel that much more powerful. If I was going to get a blowjob, it was going to be a long, selfish ordeal with lots of deep throating, and little acknowledgement of the guy giving me the pleasure. Using this site, I have been selfish to the core, and probably passed up some pretty good opportunities to meet interesting and intelligent people. In the end, it doesn’t fill me with much regret though. Men are, as I will regularly remind you, mostly sexual objects to me. Just like women. Men will never be love relationship material, but I’d absolutely love to find a male best friend to share some existence with. But I’m getting off the track here…
Two weeks ago I began communicating with a guy who liked to suck cock, felt he was good at it, and was willing to come to me in order to enjoy the privilege. Monday thru Friday I work a 9am to 5pm job, and this was unfortunately the only time frame in which he was available, so I was never going to be able to take advantage of the cock sucker. After a few more messages back and forth, I decided he seemed trustworthy, and gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse. If he wanted to visit me at work, I would take him into the basement of one of the buildings and feed him my prick. He immediately responded to the idea, expressing his enthusiastic interest, and a few days ago showed up unannounced, while I was assisting a customer. He simply said my name when I made eye contact, and when nothing else came out of his mouth right away, I knew who he was. Finishing up with the customer, I told the cock sucker to follow me, and lead him from the building. We crossed the street together, and moments later entered a warehouse at the opposite end of the block. Making our way down a flight of stairs, I took him into the basement, where I hoped we would not be disturbed. We made our way to the end of an aisle, where boxes and racks of product afforded us a little bit of privacy, and then stopped.
When I turned, the little bitch was already on his knees. Of course, I’d unbuttoned my pants while walking down the aisle, so it was only a matter of reaching down and pulling my prick out, to get it in on the action. I did so, and the man at my feet leaned forward, taking my full length down his throat the very first time. It was a wonderful shock, and I believe I gasped with surprise and pleasure. Keeping one eye one the cock sucker, and one eye on the basement stairs, I did my best to relax and enjoy myself. He was a good bitch – very attentive, deep throat, gave the right kind of attention to my balls – and I found it hard to not explode in his mouth right away. Being nervous and distracted helped a bit, but also took away from the experience. At one point I dropped my pants down to my knees, sat back on a pallet of boxes, and spread my legs a bit more to really enjoy myself. He was getting tired, and beginning to use his hand more, so I instructed him to get back to giving me his mouth and throat. He obeyed promptly, taking his right hand from my prick and moving it down to my leg. His mouth opened up a bit more, despite the obvious fatigue it was experiencing, and he went to work, making me very proud and satisfied.
I dumped my load in his throat, and he swallowed every drop without so much as gagging. The head of my cock gets engorged, and when I am excited I generally shoot a pretty big load, but he took it like it was no big deal. As soon as I could, I slipped my throbbing, and now quite sensitive prick from his mouth, and put it back in my pants. He got to his feet, bid me farewell, and did what any good bitch should done when done satisfying me; walked away. I made it clear that he could come back and do it again, any time, and that is exactly how the situation is being left. The element of surprise is intact. Some day, weeks or months from now, he’ll show up and make my morning or afternoon. We’ll go down into the basement again, he’ll swallow my load, and we’ll both walk away very happy. That’s the way I want my life to be right now.
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