I recently went to the club, Paddles where HandsomeNYC was having their usual Wednesday night party. This particular night, they were having a cowboy-themed night.
Being as picky as I am, sometimes me playing at a sex party doesn't happen as soon as I walk in the door. This was such a case. It had been quite awhile into the party before I wound up in a hot and heavy make-out session with a Latino.
Somehow, in the midst of that make-out session getting more and more intense, my always-multi-tasking mind saw someone there I hadn't seen before.
He was a good-looking, tall, slim white guy. Some guys were going down on him. During that time however, he kept looking over at me. I found that unfair to the guys going down, and tried to avoid eye contact. However, during any split second where me and my Latin playmate weren't fucking each other with our eyes, I did find myself driven to look over his shoulder, and check out the white guy.
Even though it was a mutual attraction, it was getting to my conscience because I believe that if you can't focus on your playmate/partner, then you shouldn't be with them. I guess it was telling me that my Latin playmate was not worth the time...because we ended our make-out session because after telling me that he was going to call it a night, he stayed just as long as I did,... Leaving with someone else.
But not to worry. Because what happened between the time the Latino left me and I actually wound up leaving as well?
When the make-out session between the Latino and I ended, I went to another area in the club. There the white guy was there getting blown again. I watched, and again, he kept looking at me. I tried to stay playing voyeur, but he then invited me to join him. And while he was getting sucked, he turned to kiss me. This made me feel a tad uncomfortable, but I am slowly coming to lessen my angst over how most gay males don't view sex (namely, blowjobs and fucking) the way I do. They compartmentalize guys where some are guys you just let suck, and other guys get to suck and fuck. With this guy, the tall Asian sucking him was the former, and I was the latter.
For soon after kissing him, the white guy directed me to his cock. It was huge. Making it quite obvious as to why all the guys were swarming him. I didn't suck him for very long before he pulled me back to my feet to kiss me passionately and say to me, "I wanna fuck you".
"And I want you to. So take it", I replied.
I laid down on the structure behind us while he put on a condom, and I put lube in and on my ass, then on his condom-wrapped cock. He thrusted a few times into me. The deeper he went in, the more his long dick began hitting that spot every long cock hits inside a bottom. That spot inside that guys who do poppers claim to use them to relax. When truth be told, it's all in your mind. I know because I did it myself. So once I relaxed that spot in myself, his cock went in even deeper. Unfortunately, a couple of thrusts after that, I heard this loud moan come from him, followed by these slight throbs of his cock, stretching my hole just a tad each time. I asked a question I was knew I was going to have a Love/Hate relationship with if the answer was "Yes".
I asked him, "Did you cum?"
He replied, "Yeah, I did. Your ass is tight."
I could feel even though he had came, his dick was still hard, and pointed that out to him. He tried fucking me a little more, but I could feel him very slowly shrinking. Not to a point where he would be totally flaccid, but enough that he could not stay in my tight ass tunnel and thrust.
My tight hole from doing my Kegels once again milked a guy of all he had.
My Love/Hate relationship with a guy coming so soon after he enters you is because while it says your ass is well-maintained, which I LOVE; the HATE is due to how it also makes the sex over way before you're ready for it to be done. And unless your playmate is multi-orgasmic, guys like me run into this situation a lot. For most guys are not multi-orgasmic.
I could use poppers to open up my hole enough to make the sex last longer. But that's not going to happen. Because:
1) Poppers don't work on me. Well, at least not for the purpose many have been misled to believe. Because like I said, it's all in your mind. Every try of poppers has never made me relax my ass. During sex, I give my soul, body, and mind to the sex on my own, because I dedicate myself to the pleasure. The pleasure of myself and my sex partner. And I feel the breaks to huff disrupt the rhythm of the sex, and are therefore unfair to my partner. With that being the case, a chemical like poppers never succeeds in its intended purpose. It only gives me a headache. Which leads to;
2) Sex is like a music composition. Hence my poem titled "The Symphony of Sex". And as the sex progresses, your emotions gets heightened, much like what happens to us the further along a music composition we like is played. Well, imagine how it feels when your emotions are rising when a song you like is being played, then suddenly, the track is stopped. And when the track resumes playing, you have to get your emotions back to that spot before the music was stopped.
Well that's what poppers are like to sex. They interrupt the rhythm and rising emotions, then the user expects you to continue on like that break in rhythm ans rising emotions never happened.
Well, the point of the story is that like I view all of my sexual encounters, it's quality, not quantity that should motivate you. So I will say that while I didn't have a lot of sex that night, that one fuck was very brief, but fuckin' mind-blowing.
And I have my tight ass to thank for it.