The e-mail bounced back and forth. Normally I don’t endure that kind of crap. Not sure why I did with him. But I did. And for once, it paid off.
My Gmail account reconciles with 64 messages from him. And I sent him 59.
Iowa turned out to be a hotbed of nothingness. Standard operating procedure for me is to post a brief Craigslist ad notifying locals a top blogger who likes to write about my encounters will be arriving soon. I don’t mind the curiosity seekers who result. It exposes my blog to dozens of new readers.
I will normally get one or two new loyal jerk off subscribers and at least one new death threat. By the by, the death threat arrived right on time yesterday. The jerk wad usually waits to send it after I return home and posts it anonymously. Interestingly enough, it’s usually somewhere in the middle of the pack of stories.
I imagine him, cum drying on his fingers in that post-ejaculation moment of guilt, knowing he’s been thinking too hard about cum up his ass, when he writes the rant to me, how much he wants to kill me for stealthing some unsuspecting bottom. At the same time, he’s recalling that time he wakes up, still a little drunk from the night before, wondering heat really happened the night before, and going to the bathroom to piss. He has that sensation and farts. Only to find it’s a shart. Only to look on his underoos and see a white stain, not a brown one. He can’t recall his name. He doesn’t remember too much. But he sits on the toilet and tries to push out the milky liquid in his ass. Surely he was raped. He would never knowingly take a raw cock. Never.
Anyway, I get sidetracked.
So I announced my arrival and several checked me out. Two or three email me back about how hot my blog is. One is an 18 year old. He somehow misses the fact I’m 42. The barebacking doesn’t bother him. The age does. If I were three years younger, I would be acceptable. But not 42. Just a little too old.
The other somehow misses the fact I bareback. “I blast inside” isn’t a hint and the stuff all over my blog gets somehow missed.
My pen pal keeps plugging away. Never committing to come see me. Never saying he won’t come.
Once I arrive, the blogger ad comes down and the usual “come over and get fucked and filled” ads go up. I get the usual, “I just suck” and “can you make a condom exception for me cause I’m sort of hot?” responses. But there’s enough barebackers for me so I’m good.
Pen pal keeps showing up and we keep chatting. He’s got a boyfriend. Can we threeway? My answer is yes but I will still only bareback. Can I come to their place? No, I don’t have a vehicle. Are you sure, he just went to bed? No, seriously, no car, not from here.
I suggested sneaking out.
“But I haven’t showered,” he said.
By this point, it was getting close to midnight central time, which from Alabama I knew was close to impossible to get anyone. So I answered, “That’s fine. I don’t care. You don’t have to suck me after I fuck you.”
Magic. He was on his way over.
He arrived and followed my instructions, stripping just inside the door. I was naked on the bed, the room mostly dark. He sucked me. It took him a moment to adjust to the angle of my cock and he never really got a good hang of it. His oral skills were above average but not exceptional.
I pulled him up and got a better look at him. Mid-30s with a little balding but he took the right approach and cropped his black hair short. With a long oval face, he actually seemed similar to me — one of those unassuming guys with that dark underbelly of sexually energy that never ended.
His cock never got particularly hard, which never needs to be an issue with me. His chest had been clipped close and both tiny nipples were pierced with equally tiny rings
He spit in his hand and slicked my cock, easing it into his ass. Of course, knowing he’d split to cheat on his boyfriend made me rush to orgasm, but I let him ride for a while — a good three minutes before I busted my nut inside his guts. He made sure to work my cum up in him deep before rolling back and jerking off into his own mouth.
Yes. He made it interesting. Iowa boy jerked off into his own mouth. Points for the cornfed boy.
Then he suited up and left.
I had the sense he was a bit disappointed I wasn’t a bit more dominant or demanding. That I didn’t guide him or slap him around. Fuck that. I was tired. I wanted to lay back and be served. Completely. Cum quick. He’s lucky I let him cum.