"do i have a gut?" - quick fucks and body image continued

lately i've been hanging out more frequently with a crew of non trans gay guys of color ranging in ages from 20's to 40's all very apolitical not at all in the activist left leaning circles i usually run.  they are generally all good, kind caring guys and i have fun hanging out with them for the most part.

one of the first pieces i wrote for this blog was about body image and hook ups - "do i have a gut".  I've been thinking more about this lately due to this new crew i've been hanging with.  the incredible pressure that gay guys internalize around body image.

every single guy, except for one, in this group of long time friends has had some type of surgery to make his body closer to that stereotypical gay male ideal, in some cases more than one.  i had of course heard about gay guys and plastic surgery but i figured it was a wealthy white gay boy kind of thing.

These guys are not rich at all, they saved up thousands of dollars for these procedures.  from hair plugs (dude was in his 20's when he got them) to butt implants, calf implants, and pec implants to surgeries to lose weight like lap bands and lipo.  

while i have not had any surgeries i know that i am as sucked into the gay male body idealism as anyone else.  and i do believe it has gotten progressively worse.  i find myself more self conscious of my body when fucking then i used to be.  i used to think about how i look while i'm fucking periodically.  now i find its a pretty regular occurrence.  'ugh, it looks like i have a gut right now'...  and then it definitely intersects with my internalized transphobia, thoughts like 'he's probably looking at my hips and thighs'....

its gotten to the point that i've realized in some convoluded way sometimes i would rather not fuck dudes who are toned and cut because it makes me extra self conscious about my own body.

its become pretty clear to me that the sizeism of the gay boy world has brought me back to a place.  like many folks raised as girls for most of my childhood starting as young as seven and into my teen years i saw myself as overweight and unattractive.  please note this is only my experience, every trans guy relates to how they were raised and socialized differently i.e. some trans guys were socialized as boys.

in college however i was exposed to a politic that sought to fight the sexist, racist, sizeist ideals of beauty.  that centered a belief that everyone is beautiful and that what you wear or look like is not what's important but who you are, what you believe and what you do.  for many years i embraced this belief.

when i started hormones i definitely became more conscious of how i dress and look as a means to pass.  and no doubt there is alot of sizeism and body image pressure in the transmasculine world but for some reason it didn't impact me so much i believe largely because my core communities sought to resist this and held strong to a body positive politic.

but now the gay boy hook up world is definitely messing with my head.  i believe strongly everyone should love their body and everyone is sexy in their own way.  but applying that belief to myself has gotten more and more difficult.

holiday fuck

i was out of town visiting fam for the holiday.  i was getting hit up alot on all the sites - a wide variety of cuties.  however, i'm here to spend time with my family who i don't see often and it doesn't feel right to leave them alone while i go fuck some dudes.  i am in town for nearly two weeks though so i figure i'll give myself one day to play.  i decide on this one dude because he is interesting, into bdsm, lots of tats, brown skin, just a little taller than me so not a big guy but very cute.

however he is very, very persistent which is a flag for me, not always but often in my experience overly persistent guys either want more than just a fuck i.e. become stalkerish and/or want to be your husband after the first meet up or are desperate for a fuck for a wide range for reasons....(no judgement, just not my thing) but there is something about this particular guy that intrigues me.

we chat on and off for a few days.  i will be his first trans guy.  even though getting to him will be a trek i decide to go for it over closer options.    the day arrives when we have arranged to meet.  i tell my family i'm meeting a friend and head for the bus.  i'm still feeling unsure and nervous about this hook up.  i know that its largely because i'm not on my home turf so feel off my game.  there is also something about his look that is borderline hot/serial killer...  i mean he is very nice but aren't most serial killers nice at the start?  he offers to pick me up repeatedly which i decline, i always feel safer being able to get to a hookup on my own.  he seems to sense my uncertainty suggesting i take a picture of his home and text it to someone when i get there.  which actually makes me more nervous in some kind of weird way i.e. maybe this means i definitely should be nervous.

however i decide to proceed.  its a long bus ride and the bus stop is a bit of a trek to his place, i stop and pick up some beers on the walk.  i finally get there and his home reassures me, for some reason i was picturing a small house, with an empty yard and one car in the front, i don't know why that says serial killer to me...  but instead its a small home with no real yard, a kayak hanging in the garage, a couple cars in front (turns out he has a roomie), a mountain bike chained to the fence.

he lets me into his place which is neat and clean (a thing i have) and has a really nice view.  he is cuter than his pics in person.  he says his roomie is home but doesn't care.  i tell him i brought some beers to which he says he does not drink.  i immediately feel like an ass, i usually ask guys before i bring beer, so much of our communities are in recovery and all.  i apologize and say i don't need to drink and start to put the beer away.  but he say's no its cool, he has been in recovery for a while and doesn't have cravings anymore and he wants me to be comfortable.  he cracks one open and hands it to me.

i take a few sips.  he says you are so cute and sexy and runs his hands down my back.  i smile and put the beer down.  we start making out and he is a very good kisser.  i pull off his shirt and take off mine.  he has the most incredible six pack i have ever seen.  i lie back on the bed and he lies on top of me kissing and grinding.  he starts to suck my nipples which is always an immediate turn on for me.   i reach down for his belt, undue his jeans and stroke his sizable cock through his briefs.  he's hard.  i push him back and we both strip.  i lie back on his bed buck naked.  he says 'you are so hot' as he looks down at me.

i sit up and take his hard thickness in my mouth.  my tongue sliding up and down his length, my lips wrapped around his head.  he groans.  i go at him for a bit then he stops me and asks if he can give me a massage.  nice.  he turns me onto my back and begins to rub oil down my back, ass, legs, his sizable hands kneading my shoulders and moving down.  then he turns me over and begins kissing my nipples and moves down between my legs.  he licks at my clit with the tip of his tongue.  asks if its ok, i tell him to do it a bit lighter, which he does and it feels fucking amazing.  his tongue slides up and down the length of me repeatedly, slipping in and out of me.  i'm very wet and at this point i want more.

i stop him and ask if he has a condom.  he grabs one out of his dresser and puts it on the bed, but then pushes me back plunging his head between my legs.  i just can't get enough he says as his tongue circles my clit.  finally i really can't take anymore and i push him onto his back, grab the condom and slip it on.  then i mount him, slowly as he is a good size, i slide slowly down his cock until he is deep inside me.  we both moan.  i ride him taking the full length of him then pull him on top of me and he fucks me deep, his hips pounding between my legs our bodies rubbing tightly together my legs entwined with his.  we fuck hard and fast, i grab his ass pushing him deep with each stroke.  then he sits up so he's kneeling and can watch his cock sliding in and out of me.  he reaches over and grabs a vibrator from his dresser and places its tip on my clit as he fucks me.  the thrusting of his cock and the vibrations on my clit are bringing me very close.

then he pulls me over so i'm riding him again.  our bodies are slick with the massage oil.  i ride him slow at first, feeling his thickness, then faster, my clit sliding against him as i ride, until i cum collapsing on top of him.  he is still hard as a rock however, but he pulls out and wraps me in a spoon.   we rest for a bit and i look up and realize i've been there over two hours at this point and i need to go.  he says you have to go huh?  i say yeah, but you haven't even cum.  he says no worries, it was more than hot.

i feel a bit bad but not enough to be late to meet my fam so we both clean up.  he insists on at least driving me part of the way which i accept.  on the way we chat he is a really nice guy but i realize that my initial instincts were somewhat right on.  if i actually lived here i think he would have already had boyfriend visions in his head.  however this was definitely a hot fuck.  he drops me off and we part with a quick kiss.  

Caramel: My "Blue Balls" Story

We were supposed to have coffee, but opted for beers instead. It was a crowded bar and I wanted privacy; I had some questions to ask. Questions about the mechanics of what we were maybe going to do if this first "meeting" went well. See, I think it's important to clarify just how you're going to fuck before the actual event takes place. This is crucial.

Homeboy and I, after we were seated, started talking about the trivial shit we could care less about. He's a student, math major. Okay, that's kinda hot. As a proud, card-carrying nerd, I'm quite into fucking other nerds. Eventually, I just blurted out "so what do you think?" His hazel colored eyes traveled down my face, lingered for a second on my beard, moved down to my chest. "You're a dude" He looked at me then like I was supposed to feel complimented by his assessment.
"I know this. I mean, what are you into sexually?"
"Not dudes," he said and took another swig of his corona.
I grinned then. I don't know why, but there are certain nontrans guys I just love fucking with. The type who'll flirt yet still insist that I'm a girl. The type who'll message me incessantly, anxiously wanting to meet, yet when they encounter the realness of me, and the reality of their attraction to masculine bodies, will throw up some front. Alright. I decided to play along.
"Cool," I responded noncommittally, "then we're just 2 dudes having a beer." That's when he started sharing his "women troubles" with me. Women just don't get him. He was married for 10 years and she did him dirty. He's really into trans women, but responded to my ad out of curiosity.

"Tell me," he segued, "how can you be living as a guy and still be attracted to dudes?"
"I like dick," I responded, making sure to over-enunciate the K. My lightweight ass was beginning to feel the effects of the beer and I'm raunchy as hell when buzzed. "Do you like to perform oral?" he asked without missing a beat. Obviously, the beer was working on him too. "Do you?" I asked back. "Very much so. I'd like to see you without your clothes." I asked him if he was more interested in proving or disproving something else about my gender. "Maybe, but I also just want to see you." He flashed the same seductive smile he'd sported in his pic. The same pic where he'd been shirtless, a doo rag on, and his smooth, caramel-toned torso inspiring thoughts of the X-rated variety.

"Are you into rough stuff?" he continued. The negotiation had started and I was trying my damnest not to let my excitement show; negotiating sex acts is one of my favorite types of conversation. I wanted him to clarify what he meant by "rough". "I'm an aggressive top," he added with a sly grin. Oh yeah, I'm familiar with the type. For nontrans men it may mean they have to make the first move. They have to flip you around, contort you into various positions. They may talk dirty in your ear, pinning you down as they plunge into you. In other words, power - expressing it - turns them on. (I know this may sound scary to some, but power play during sex can be hot. You just have to talk honestly about what you will and won't do.) I'm not into pain and I mentioned this to him. Neither was he.

"You realize that you'll be doing all of this with a dude, right?" I reminded him, after we'd spent a few more minutes listing a few other activities we wanted to try together. He shook his head. "I can't see you that way while we're doing this." What the fuck?! "I see a dude in front of me now, but when we're fucking, in my head you'll be a..." He trailed off then and I knew what he was afraid to say. Shit. That caramel hue, smooth skin, and "fuck me" smile really had me wanting things to go down. But could I do it with a dude who refuses to see me for who and what I am?

I tried to tune out the rest of his rambling and quickly finished my beer. Snatches of his monologue, like "I can host" and "my place isn't far", inadvertently caught my attention. I had to get the hell out of there before my libido continued making decisions for me. I caught the waiter's attention and asked for the bill. "You're ready to go?" He asked. "Yeah, I'm going home, but this has been...nice." He looked surprised then. I said I couldn't sleep with someone who pretended I was someone else. I got up to go and he asked if I was sure about wanting to leave. I looked at him and, god, the lookist in me wanted to sit my ass back down. But I just couldn't let myself go there, so with that I wished him a good night and left.

My Boyfriend Hates My Genitalia

I dated this nontrans guy for several months. We met online and were really only meant to fuck a couple times and call it a night. Him: white doctor's kid from Oklahoma. I was his first almost everything. First black person he'd dated. First trans man he'd fucked. First leftist he'd engaged with on the daily. To say the relationship was froth with problems and misalignment would be a gross understatement. Our first fight was over whether or not racism still existed. Before hooking up with him, I'd totally forgotten how race, gender and class privilege can totally distort your idea of reality. I kept asking him what the hell a rich white kid from Oklahoma could know about the black experience in America.

Perhaps the most stymying thing of all was his dislike, no, aversion for my genitalia. We first met as he, newly out of the closet, was embarking on his then new life as a gay man. I was about to go back on hormones but felt unsure if the life of a gay trans man was in the cards for me. We met somewhere at the beginning of these new journeys and, granted, this wasn't exactly the ideal circumstance under which to build anything of consequence. The first night I went to his place, I was bugging out over whether or not I passed enough. As he cooked dinner and talked about his love for all things masculine, he kept sneaking peeks at my chest. This was before my work-out obsession, so the pecs were more tit-like.

After dinner, he jumped me on his couch. I felt awkward, like I was going through the motions and he was doing what was expected of him. That's when I noticed I was angling my crotch away from his. I didn't want the reality of my body to dawn on him. I wanted to keep the illusion going as long as possible. Yeah, he knew about me being trans. And yeah, I knew about his preference for cock. But somehow here we were, trying out something that neither of us knew shit about.

This moment marked our relationship. Every time we fucked and he touched my clit, oftentimes half-heartedly, I knew. Every time he'd rather I sucked his cock than do anything else, I felt it. Every time he gave some reason we couldn't have sex, it was obvious. He wanted nothing to do with my pussy. He was turned on by the physical changes brought on by T. The muscles. The deepening voice. "I'm a gay man," was his stock answer whenever I asked him why he didn't like touching me down there. "So am I," I'd respond. Is that all sexual orientation is about? Whether you prefer cock to pussy or the other way around? This question nagged at me throughout our time together. I wanted to respect his coming out process and his identity as a gay man. But what did this identity have to do with my genitalia?

Thankfully, I gained some perspective (too much) later and ended it. But I still think about this question of genitalia and sexual orientation. Through my experiences I've learned that for some gay nontrans men, my pussy is kinda like "trying a new dish" and for others it's no mans land - they may get turned on by the rest of me, but can't quite reconcile themselves to the juxtaposition of a masculine body and a vagina.

Manhunt and Adam4Adam

so my co blogger and i were talking about how we don't include in our posts the process of arranging the hook up so i thought i'd share what i do. this is just what i feel comfortable with, everyone has there own way, no judgement intended, much respect and luv for whatever folks do to arrange to fuck : ).

so to start i used adam4adam and manhunt alot. i've used craigslist in the past and gotten some good results, but i'm a bit lazy and craigslist is sometimes more work then a4a and mh. my profile on those sites explicitly says that i'm a trans guy however no one reads the profiles... i have a public pic up that show's some skin (no breasts or genitals though - i've heard mh and a4a will take it down if you do that, but i also know some transguys who have gotten away with it), its a torso shot, i've gotten much better results with that then when i had a clothed pic up. i don't publicly post a face pic.  again just my thing i know lots of transguys who post face pics. 

i very rarely hit up guys, i usually wait for them to hit me up, in hopes that they at least glanced at the profile, i'm all about efficiency and feel like if they're hitting me up its more likely to work out then the other way around - not into wasting time... and clearly not all of the guys on these sites are into trans guys. UPDATE - recently i have started approaching guys more.  basically A4A and MH both let you see who has looked at your profile.  so now if someone has looked at my profile and i find them interesting sometimes i message them before they message me.  i have gotten some good results doing this but have yet to close the deal....

when a guy hits me up the first thing i say to him is that i'm a trans guy and i explicitly explain what that means, that i was born female but now am a guy, that for me it means i'm on hormones and pass as a guy but i have not had any surgery, and i spell that out for them, i say that means i still have breasts and a pussy (i know that some trans guys don't use that term to refer to their genitals and i fully respect and get that, but i use it and i am totally ok with it).

in my experience either there is no response or the guys will be like yeah i'm into it/interested. expect a good amount of non response - that's the reality of the hook up scene especially for us trans and genderqueer folks. i have a friend, another trans guy who also likes to play, he gets down sometimes about the non response, but i believe you can't take that shit personally.

then there's some back and forth and negotiation - how much largely depends on the guy, my mood, his mood and sometimes just the time of day...

the majority of time i have to do some amount of trans 101, i'm ok with doing that, i know other folks are not - again its a personal choice.

almost always i say what i like to do and what i don't. i like to do that negotiation beforehand and not in the heat of the moment. and the online negotiation of that can be pretty hot sometimes... 

i'm gonna probably keep adding to this post so check back sometimes.

unsafe sex

So I hooked up with one of my regulars tonite, I don’t like to write about my regulars too much, but it was very hot, there is a category of regulars I like where I just feel very comfortable, no surprises, just good fucking. Basically I hadn’t fucked anyone in over two weeks due to travel and illness so I was majorly in need…. Now I’m home and I’m surfing the web. Not looking to play anymore tonite, just looking around…

So my co blogger and I are strong believers in Safer Sex. Though I will admit that there are times that I’ve been unsafe…

the time the condom slipped, my regular or two who I let fuck me without a condom, that I never use a condom for oral sex.... I say this because I think its important to be real and honest, while I would like to say that I practice safer sex 100% of the time, that’s not my reality.

I value my life and my health and I love and respect all my hiv positive family, most of the time I won’t fuck without a condom, at the same time I think its important to be real and I believe shame has never improved anyone’s health or life.

I believe in being safe, I believe in harm reduction, I believe in getting tested regularly, I believe no one should make you do something you don’t want to do, nor should you do something cuz you feel like no one else will want to fuck you, trans people are beautiful and sexy and there are lots of people who want to fuck us – this I know without a doubt.

Yet its complicated, when i let my regular fuck me without a condom, why do i do it? Sometimes shit happens, sometimes our beliefs and our actions don't align and i could lie and say that i'm always safe but I guess i'm looking for a sexual reality that's real - which at least for me means a little messy....

That said here is a really good resource about safer sex and ftm’s best one I’ve found. be safe : )

http://www.queertransmen.org/

Beaded Penis

He'd had beads inserted into his penis. When he showed it to me later, I was struck by the ordinariness of it. His penis was short and stump with these tiny sperical objects sticking out at odd intervals. Immediately, I could tell why he needed to adorn his dick with jewelry. Obviously he wanted something more than it could offer. "It enhances the sensation" he said with a smile and I smiled back, more out of politeness than anything. The color of his dick was pretty though. Reddish brown. Slightly darker than the rest of him. It brought to mind ovaltine and for that reason I wanted to taste it. I decided to call him "bumpy" and no, the beads didn't enhance a thing. Bumpy was alright in the sack, though "doggy-style" was certainly his piece de resistance.

Let me say a thing or two about doggy-style. One: rarely do I say "doggy-style" out loud without dissolving into a fit of giggles. It's just such a silly name and belies the seriousness of the act. Two: In my former life, I hated this position. It just seemed too vulnerable of a state to be in. Getting down on all fours, and allowing someone else to see all into your asscrack. My middle-class demure upbringing just wouldn't let me get into it! This was of course back when I set way too many boundaries around my sexuality, or rather when I allowed social norms to dictate how and when I should fuck. Well, here I am years later and I have to say "doggy" or "down on all fours" has become one of my faves. Not only does it make it easier for my g-spot to be stimulated, it also is just erotic as hell when a guy hangs onto my waist or my ass for leverage and pounds my ass. There's something so primal about the position which also adds to the appeal of it. And whatever Bumpy lacked in dick girth, he certainly made up in motion. Yeah, there may be a thing or two to that "motion in the ocean" adage.

Bumpy and I rendezvous-ed twice, which is my limit with most men I sleep with. I rarely ever cross over into thrice or we may as well be dating. I don't do "regular fucks". I figure if I've reached that level with a dude, then there had better be more than just fucking going on. In other words, I tend to get attached. It's the way I'm made up. Anyway, Bumpy and I did our thing twice and the 2nd time was even hotter. He hosted this time and his roommate, the ex-girlfriend (or so I was told), was out doing god knows what. He invited me into his giant soft bed and proceeded to lick the hell out of my pussy. That-is-what-I-am-talking-about. I may have said that out loud, in between bellows of "yes" and "god" and "I'm gonna cum". Yeah, it was good that 2nd time.

And there would have been a 3rd time if he hadn't gone and freaked out over the trans bit. By fuck session number 2 I'd started experiencing all the usual changes trans dudes experience. I don't know who he thought he was screwing. He must have blocked out the "I'm a trans dude" portion of our introduction. For some reason he'd look at the hair growing on my chin and chest, hear my deep voice, and still refer to me as "ma". After the umpteenth time of this I had to remind him. Well, lets just say, my usual "I'm a dude with a vag" shpiel is a bit of a mind fuck for people who aren't in the know. I understand that. After all, we all grow up hearing and believing so many untruths about gender. Hell, I hardly know what it is any more. I'm a patient dude. I can wait for you to have your epiphany and realize that actually there isn't a lot about gender that's set in stone or genetically predetermined. I do draw the line at pretending though. If you're turned on by this here trans boy and we're going to fuck, you'd better face up to what you're desiring. Bumpy couldn't, or rather, he wouldn't. Goodbye Bumpy!

Fucking Like There's No Tomorrow

I was recently approached by a friend to write for one of those political-social justicey type blogs. For days I pondered over what to write. I searched the depths of my various identities. Pooled together my recent experiences of life-fucked-up-ness. Many frustrating attempts later I resigned myself to the reality of my writing interests. I have no energy to delve into the many reasons life is much more complicated for us trans folks or us queers or us people of color. These days my mind is on other things. Like fucking and the many reasons life is much more complicated for us trans men who like to fuck bio-men. It's weird how this may in some ways be the focus of my life currently: sex. I spent many years afraid of what my body liked and desired. Shying away from any encounter that sexualized me (in the ways that I'd like). Now I seek out those encounters, almost relentlessly. My fellow TQ contributor says the appeal in the hook-up scene lies in the adventurousness of it all. Sure adventure is nice. Me? I just like to fuck. I like the pleasure of it. The anticipation leading up the moment when you first lay eyes on your fuck du jour. When your eyes take all of him in, compare the real thing to the photo that made everything kinda pretty or at least appealing enough to get you off your behind and board a train and a bus or head out to the middle of nowhere. Yes, the lure of the perfect fuck is what keeps me hitting those sites again and again. The disappointment of a bad fuck is merely collateral damage, because when you do find a great lay, it's like being reborn into a gentler, calmer you. A you that's able to breath and exhale unimpeded again. I like to refer to this particular moment as the post-fuck haze. I never allow myself to feel slutty for fucking or wanting to fuck as often as I can. Even saying, writing the word "fuck" is liberating. It represents the stark difference between where I was, the frigid fearful place I was anchored in for years, and where I stand now- able to look at my pussy and like it, able to drive pleasure from my engorged clit and boast about it, where before I might have felt shame. Able to say and get turned on by words like "cock", "cum", "wet", "horny".

How do you write about these things, people, in a social justice-y type blog like the one my friend approached me about? How do I show the empowerment that comes about from sleeping around? How do I also show the pain and befuddlement it also offers? The many nights of logging onto sites and waiting for a bite and nothing comes, because the ideas of a "guy with a pussy" is just too "kinky" for some. The many attempts at putting feelers out there, wanting someone to grab hold of something and give it a gentle tug. Having to explain over and over and over to gay men who haven't even so much as heard the word "trans" before that I have a pussy not a cock, that the only cock I do have comes with my strap and it's an impressive 9x5 inches, that when I'm fucking you with said strap you would hardly know the difference.

I'll admit the hook up scene can be a painful, lonely place for a trans man. When I first started exploring the scene, it certainly wasn't all milk and cookies. Like that night when I couldn't host, and me and that dude traipsed all over downtown trying to find a motel to fuck in. The last place we tried was the men's bath-house that barred me entry because I had "F" on my license. I was so eager to bust a nut by the end of that evening, so ready for shit that never even went down. Luckily, not long after, my roommate and I brokered a deal and my hosting situation changed. I celebrated by having a weeklong fuckfest. That was a damn good week.

So what else can I write about but these stories? So much needs to be said about trans guys fucking. I haven't even unpacked the many conversations I had with the men I have had sex with. Why they like the idea of a guy with a pussy. How many of them refuse to accept their complicated sexualities or sexual appetites. Now that's a good topic to explore in another journal entry...

motels...

I had been messaging with this guy for a bit and we decided to make it happen. He'd been with a trans guy before. We met at a bar near his place. My type, more attractive than I had expected based on the pics. Cute, brown skin, latino, medium build, beard. We chat some, or more so he talks non stop and he buys me a drink. He says so you wanna do this. I’m game.

So we leave the bar and he calls a cab, he says his place is a mess and he doesn’t want to go there tonite that he has another place to go. Cabbing it somewhere with a hookup is not something I normally do, but the vibe felt safe though I was definitely nervous. We chatted during the cab ride, ok guy. We pull up at a cheap motel in some random part of town. He pays for the cab. I’m still feeling a little nervous but decide to go with it. He pays for a room. Of course, the guy at the counter asks me to show ID (i look pretty young...).

We go up to the room, its your typical cheap pay by the hour motel room, everything is that slightly dirty color of beige, along with a flashing neon sign outside the window.

he kisses me, I unbutton his pants and begin sucking him off, he smokes while i suck his dick which i actually find really hot, we strip, this is when I realize he is less my type without clothes on, a total bear (no offense to bears just not my thing usually), but at this point, whatever, he sucks me off, grabs a condom and fucks me for a long time in a couple different positions, he’s a pretty good fuck, big guy which I like…

Afterwards we lie in bed and chat some about our lives, backgrounds, etc. He starts kissing me again, I feel him getting hard, I suck him off some more, he grabs another condom and we fuck again. Afterwards I tell him i need to get going so we head out.

He’s a total daddy type, insists on paying for my cab ride home, wants to see me again…… I have a taste for daddy types every once in a while.

hasidic DL

This guy was textin me the previous eve – hot texts about how he’s gonna suck me off and fuck me hard so I hopped on my bike and headed over. I walked over to the spot in the heart of the Hasidic neighborhood.

Called him and he tried to direct me to the right door – he wouldn’t just come out to meet me...took about ten minutes for me to find the right door, all the while with him giving me directions and refusing to come out.

Finally got inside and it was a real family home, kids toys all over the place, he’s a tall Hasidic guy, not bad looking, he offers me water then takes me down to the basement which is some kind of work studio littered with random shit. He apologizes saying the other place he had planned to take me was much nicer with a bed and shower we could have used.

He kisses me, he’s a bad kisser, we strip and kiss and he picks me up, which I’m into, i wrap my legs around his waist and we kiss and grind. he lies down on the basement floor and I suck him off.

then I put a condom over his dick, at which point he says, 'this condom is for black people', in my head i simultaneously laugh and think 'racist fuck', at this point though whatever, i'm not here to help him unlearn his racism.

he turns me on my back and we fuck, he fucks me hard, but he cums really fast, afterwards I jerk myself off with him inside me - pretty hot.

We get dressed and he tells me he’s been with trans women and had a trans girl friend but i'm his first trans guy. He says he has a few places that he uses to do this all over the neighborhood. I collect my shit, we go back up stairs, he goes to use the bathroom and tells me that if anyone comes in I should tell them I’m here for his business.

He offers to drive me to my bike, I decline so we leave the apt, he heads left and I head right as if we’ve never met. Later, he texts me to say I’m amazing…

Tall, dark, n' lovely.

He fucked me hard and deep. 6 feet 5. Locks down his back, formed into pretty long braids that he kept having to flip out of his face as he bent over me and entered me gently. He hadn't had pussy in 3 years and some change. The ideas of a guy with a vag confused and turned him on simultaneously. That's the reason he hit me up on adam4adam. That and the picture where I'm flexing my arms - one of my best features, by the way. He flipped my legs up in the air. Placed my feet on his chest. I could feel his heart hammering away. His big dick plunged into me and I gasped. He was gentle at first. "You're so tight," he whispered as he withdrew and entered faster this time. I closed my eyes and moaned. God he could fuck. God he was big. And I could no longer stop the sounds spewing out of my mouth. This is why I love Black men - the connection formed as skin comes upon skin.

"Hold onto my arms like that, baby boi. I got you," he said as he plunged in deeper. I grabbed his shoulders, now thinly layered by a film of sweat. It was almost too much. A sweet, delicious pain. I dared to look down to where the action was happening. "You see that dick?" he grunted as he fucked me faster. I did. I got wetter at the sight if his dick going in and out of me. This 6 foot 5 giant now cradling my ass with a gentleness challenged only by the ferocity with which he pounded my pussy. His eyes boring into mine. My mouth agape. Sounds I could barely recognize as mine escaping them. I thought, as he leaned down to wrap his tongue around mine, I am never fucking white men again.