I went out of my way to see this dude. It wasn't as far as I thought, but still a good bit of distance. I only go that far for very special reasons and he'd presented a number of them. He met me a few blocks from his crib, walking his dog, which looked more wolf. It scared the crap out of me at first, seeing this giant part-wolf/part-dog lumber towards me, pulling this cocoa-colored dude. "I'm Stan." He stuck his hand out and tried to give me daps but, folks, I suck at giving daps. I never know know which way to go. Daps differ from region to region, you see. After we got past the daps mishap, he introduced me to his dog...whose name I forgot 3 seconds later. We walked (well I walked and he kind of sauntered which was hot to watch) to a nearby park so the oversized pooch could pee and poop. Stan and I leaned against a sad looking rail and talked. The park had the hallmarks of your typical dilapidated-park-smack-down-in-the-middle-of-the-'hood: barely standing swing set, deep cracks in the pavement, irregularly shaped patches of grass, the works.
He was recently out of jail and trying to adjust to life on the outside. His PO was constantly on his jock though - we'd rescheduled a few times because of PO appointments. He'd fucked men while he'd been locked up and emerged from prison with a complicated sexuality and a broader idea of gender.
"I don't like to see myself as gay or straight or anything even. Yeah, I like dicks. Yeah, so what? I can't get into dudes and I don't like masculine types."
As an afterthought he added, "I like fucking FTMs though; that shit is hot," then laughed, looking at me and I chose to believe it was a "I wanna eat you up" look.
"If you're not into masculine types, how's this gonna work?" I did a Vanna White gesture at my body.
He looked me over and smiled, "see that's the thing. To me you don't look masculine. Yeah, you look like a dude but masculine? It's all relative. I mean look at me!" And I did look at him. This mutha was built. I'll admit that's one of the reasons I was fascinated with him. Bearish and broad, wide-as-hell shoulders, footballers stature, and my favorite accessory on a dude: a black fit-it. His was cocked to the left. Sexy? Hell yeah. But being big and black and masculine strikes fear in the heart of many. I thought about how different our experiences were given our very different body types: his big hulking figure versus my small compact build. For the umpteenth time I wondered how he ended up in jail. I didn't ask because it's none of my damn business.
He yelled at his dog who was becoming very interested in a pile of poop made by another dog. I laughed then, not just because of the dog eating poop thing, but because of the juxtaposition of that image with the sexuality conversation we were in the middle of, the ridiculously unkempt appearance of the park we were hanging out in, and the reason that propelled me outta my apartment in my first place. All of that just seemed so, for lack of a better word, absurd. Sometimes life just trips me out like that...
As we walked back to his apartment, I remembered the picture he'd sent me of his dick. In the picture, his erect cock was going toe to toe with a big remote control. They were the same size. Imagine the remote control to end all remote controls. The type of remote that you can use to turn your tv on if you were in a high speed jet plane flying 30,000 feet over your house. And that's one of the core reasons I decided to go out of my fucking way to see him.
Back in his tiny box of a room he told me to get comfortable on his tiny bed. I wondered how we were both going to fit. Then he stripped down to an A shirt and boxers, an image that quickly brought me back to the here and now. I stared and probably had this lewd expression on my face. His hairy legs, with the strongest looking calves I'd ever seen, where so fucking hot to behold. I imagined them in between mine. He caught me staring and grinned. For some reason I became embarrassed...what the fuck. He put on a movie and got in bed, which creaked in protest and I wondered again if we'd both fit, but he pulled me into his arms and made me snuggle really really close. My ass was right up against his crotch. His dick was hard as a rock already and it jutted through his boxers, straight into the ass of my pants. I pretended to be engrossed in the flick (which I could tell you neither the title nor who the fuck was in it) and pretending was quite a feat considering this dude's hard dick was just poking into my ass. It was the hardest thing in the world not gyrating or reaching behind me to grab hold of it, but, for the moment, I chose to just savor the delicious torture of waiting. Eventually his hands started caressing my shoulders and slipped underneath my shirt sleeve, making its way to my chest, fingers slowly encircling a nipple, squeezing it between finger tips. I rubbed my ass on his crotch in response. He leaned over and sucked on my ear lobe, tonguing my ear, and his breath tickled. God I was getting really hard.
"Take your clothes off." Even though he whispered into my eat, it was an order loud and clear. I got up and complied. Back in his bed, he held me tight and licked my neck, tongue trailing down my chest and encircling my nipples. He bit down gently then hard and I squirmed, but he held me tighter and licked and bit. He pushed my legs apart roughly and sucked his way down my stomach, till his head was between my legs. "Mmm...your clit..." He trailed off as he sucked all of me into his warm wet mouth. I moaned loudly." Shh...my moms asleep. " Yeah, he lived with his mom...
He sucked me off good, my legs spread wide, his giant hands cradling my ass gently and lifting me up to his face and mouth. After a while, he got up and moved to my head, dick poised on my lips. I opened and he slipped in. "Mmm..." He looked me in the eye and gently placed one hand on my face when his cock slid deeper. I started jerking my cock, because I was so turned on by what we were doing and the way were doing it. "Suck that dick good, boy" and "mmm...yes. Like that," when his dick reached the entrance to my throat. But there's no way I could deepthroat this one. He was muthafuckin big and I was barely able to fit him in my mouth.
A little bit later he pulled out of my mouth and laid on his back, gesturing me to get on top of him. This was one of those times when it was hard to think about fucking with a condom. Seeing his raw dick, sticking straight up like that. I just wanted to sit on it, feel the bareness of it and look down at the ecstatic expression on his face. I wanted to ride that shit, get it wet from my pussy and feel it buried deep in me, but I reached in my bag for my magnums.
He guided his dick into me one I climbed on top. He squeezed my ass cheeks and pushed me further down on his dick. I put my hands on his broad chest for support. It was definitely his show, gliding me up and down his dick, controlling the rhythm, the depth and the motion. I just let go and let him lead. When he started fucking me faster, I could no longer stifle the moans and his poor, poor mama.
He flipped me on my back, restraining my hands over my head and fucked me slowly, mouth by my ear, whispering the dirtiest sexiest shit ("Mmm...you jus' squeezin my dick so nice"), tonguing ear and neck, staccato-like breath tickling that side of my face.
During doggy he hung onto my ass for dear life and drove his dick into me, his small bed creaking loudly. Then he placed his body on my back, froggy style, his legs opening mine wider, while his dick reached in deeper and moved faster. I was so close and, as if he knew this, he reached around to my front and grabbed my dick, whispering "you're so hard" in and sticking his hot wet tongue in my ear. That did it. I came and this warm tingling sensation just radiated through me. I could feel my pussy walls contracting around his dick. Right then he let out some deep guttural moan and fucked me uncontrollably as his orgasm hit.
All through the train ride back home, I had this dopey, blissed out smile plastered on my face. That was one for the books!