Glory Daze

Glory HoleOne of my fuck-buddies calls, asking if I’ve ever met the dude in my neighborhood who advertises having a private glory hole set up in his home. I’ve seen the profile dozens of time but have never checked it out: It just seems creepy, if not dangerous, and the only photo the guy offers is a close-up of his open mouth. My buddy agrees it may be a little weird yet, being the pig that he is, wants to check it out anyway. He wants me to join him, promising we can bail if it gets weird. I doubt the dude is going to let us both come over at the same time, so I agree. In less than five minutes my buddy is instructing me to rinse off and meet at the address in half an hour.

The things my dick gets me into, right?

I get there first and wait a few minutes until my buddy pulls up and parks in front of me. He gets out of his car—wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray ball cap—and walks over to my car. He’s tall, thin and blond, which usually isn’t my thing, but he has a huge dick which I’ve given up on trying to swallow and a great ass which, thankfully, loves getting fucked. He looks great tonight.

I roll down the window and he leans in. “This is crazy.”

“That’s why you love it,” hey says with a smile. “Let’s go blow our loads.” Continue reading

What happens in Vegas …

10en71yI’m wide awake at 7 am for some reason, even though my friends and I were up in the casino till 3 am. I glance at the other bed in our suite to see my buddy dead asleep. I’m a little hung over and seriously horny, so I log on to A4A Radar and find 14 other men within 300 feet and apparently in the same predicament. I love how many gay men stay here at the Cosmopolitan.

One guy catches my attention: 36 years old, bottom, decent shape, and looks like he may be Latin. I hit him up with a simple “What’s going on, handsome?” and find out that he is killing time before a 10am meeting, is horny, likes to kiss and be dominated, is 6 floors below me and needs 20 minutes to get ready. I have condoms and he has lube. I can’t remember the last time a hook up was orchestrated so efficiently and before I allow myself time to question it, I am showered and on my way down to his room.

He answers the door in gym shorts and a tight white t-shirt, looking nothing like I imagined from his photo: This boy is breathtakingly handsome with bright blue eyes, light brown hair and reddish scruff. He is 5’9” at best and is built like a gymnast on steroids. I run my hand through his wavy hair as a greeting, then close the door behind me and pull him in for a kiss. The connection is electric, and I know in an instant by his moan and the way he is clinging to me that he feels exactly the same way. I push him against the wall and kiss him hard and deep until we are both gasping for breath.

We finally pull apart long enough for me to pull his shirt off. I’m conscious that anything I say at this moment will sound completely stupid, so I just stand back and admire his defined shoulders and hard chest. He has just the right amount of light brown chest hair, which trails down his tight abs and under the waistband of his shorts.

He rubs his hands over my chest and down my arms. “Damn, you’re buff,” he says, making me laugh.

I can’t think of anything else to say other than “I want you.”

“You have me!”

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