We have a routine. Not sure how it started, but it hasn’t changed much in a year of occasional hookups.
He lets himself in. L’il Bit walks into the living room as I’m tying the laces on my running shoes. I look up and he looks away. How long have we been doing this and he’s still embarrassed? He’s a fucking whore, get over it.
He looks hot: Jeans. T-shirt. The usual for him. I think he’s in high-tech. I don’t ask. I don’t care. I do care about his body. He’s built like a machine. Not over built—just tight as fuck. Unbelievable ass. Handsome face. Too handsome, if there is such a thing.
The issue with L’il Bit is that he’s short. 5’4”. Almost tiny. I know my nickname bugs him. I also know it turns him on. I tease him with it. If he hated it, I would probably tease him more.
L’il Bit walks over and drops to his knees. As he starts to pull off my shorts and jock, he says “hello.” It’s almost a whisper. Hell, I don’t know if he’s saying it to me or my dick. Do I care? No.
I know what’s coming, so I’ve got a chubby when his lips carefully take in my cock. Damn! Sweet lips. The guy knows how to suck: Right hand gripping my shaft, left at the base, his mouth moves down slowly. He gags a bit. I’m not sure if I’m really that big, but he gags every time.
It makes me harder.
L’il Bit pulls up with his mouth, quickly followed by his right hand in one fluid motion. I feel like my whole dick is in the most wonderful, moist heaven.
I lean back. I gently run my fingers through his hair. No need to fuck his face. I don’t grab at the back of his head. I’m loving the feel of his mouth on my dripping dick. The gentle slurping makes me smile. I love seeing his handsome face swallow my cock. He is loving it as much as I.
His left thumb is playing with my balls. Just a precursor before L’il Bit moves his left hand to my taint and asshole. He’s got good hands. Muscular, thin fingers. Elegant and long. Not long by most standards, but for him. They do the job right. I let slip a soft moan. I like to encourage him.
The motions of his mouth and hands go longer and repeat sooner. The fucker is going faster and slower at the same time. It makes my cock delirious.
My breath increases. I’m close. We both know it. My hands no longer run through his hair. Instead, I place my hand on his neck. I pull slightly forward. I’m going to cum. L’il Bit is going to drink it.
My back arches. I pull forward on his neck. He swallows my entire cock and my ample load. It feels like it’s going on forever.
I lean back. I’m spent. Fuck going to the gym. I got up an hour ago and I’m ready for a nap.
L’il Bit is still on his knees. Usually, he gets up and leaves. He doesn’t want me to touch him. I know the feeling. Sometimes, you just want to be somebody’s fuck hole. No problem on my end.
“I like this,” I’m positive he’s talking to my dick and not to me.
I grunt. My dick flicks involuntarily. I wonder if he thinks it’s responding to him.
L’il Bit looks at me, “I like blowing you.” He smiles and looks back down, “I like servicing you.” Again, I think he’s talking too my dick.
I want to say, “You’re still here?” but think better of it. In a non-committal fashion, I grunt again.
He stands and faces me. Sitting, I’m staring at his chest. I smile. This is usually where it ends and L’il Bit leaves. The song “Short People” by Randy Newman runs through my head. I don’t want L’il Bit to see me laugh so I look down. How could I never have noticed how big his junk was?
I say, “Jesus,” or “Holy fuck” or some such nonsense as he starts to move away. I grab his shirt and pull him back. I got six inches and fifty pounds on L’il Bit—he’s going no where.
“L’il Bit, what you hid’n?”
He begs me off. He does not want to be touched, but I want to see it. He’s wearing 501 Levi’s and no belt, so the work is practically done for me. One pull and out drops his junk. He’s hard. It’s curved. Seriously curved. TWO bends. It looks like an amusement park slide: big bump, slope and curve. Talk about having a “crank.”
He pulls away. “I don’t think we should do this anymore.” Fucking wuss.
I get up and catch him before the front door. He’s having trouble putting it back in. I apologize. I tell him it’s hot. I try to be kind. He wants nothing more to do with me.
“Fine,” I lean against the front door, “one last blow job and you can go.”
We argue. He wants to leave. I want a going away gift. What I really want is for this not to be our last time. L’il Bit says something that pisses me off. I grab him by his t-shirt and lift him up. He’s lighter than I thought. I outweigh him by 75 pounds…
I drop him on the couch. I realize by the look on his face this is what he wants. He doesn’t want to be sucked. He doesn’t want to have his dick played with. Ultimately, he wants what every fag wants: a straight guy. I’m not straight, but treating him like I am is the next best thing.
“Suck it, faggot.” I hiss. My cock is rock hard. I swear the big vein across the top is throbbing.
L’il Bitch does as he’s told. He takes it. I pull him forward. I shove my hand down the back of his jeans. L’il Bit has a hairy hole. Sweet. I want to tongue it, but he won’t dig it.
He tries to get me to stop, but his eyes plead for me to go on. I pull my dick out of his mouth and open his jeans. The snake jumps out. Before he can protest, I flip L’il Bit over and yank down his pants. I spit on his hole…
Condom. I do not want to stop… “Got a condom?” I know the answer. I don’t want to have to get off him, go upstairs, fuck.
“My left rear pocket.” Fucking whore.
Ripping open the packet, I mutter something about him being a whore. I roll on the Trojan and put the head up to his hole. I wonder if this might be his first time. He moves, so that he’s kneeling on the couch, hanging over the back, offering up his ass. His hole moves to my unit, ready to devour it. Definitely not his first time. I play with his crack, teasing it with my pulsating cock-head. A little more spit on his hole and I’m ready.
I push in. He’s tight. He groans. Pleasure. I push farther. He groans louder. I push one more time… I’m almost completely there. One last thrust and I’m all the way in his ass. I pull back and begin to fuck him hard. He’s groaning and begging for more.
I give him what he wants: my raunchy dick and my filthy mouth. I call him horrible names. I say nasty things about him. I reach around to feel his cock. He fucking loves every filthy word. His cock is rock hard.
L’il Bit is being fucked like the animal he is. I’m Thrusting and banging into him. I don’t care what he wants. It’s about my pleasure. My selfishness gives him pleasure.
I try to flip him over so I can see his face. He resists. I pull out. I back up. I grab his ankles and pull him back. In one quick move he’s on his back. His jeans are still bunched around his ankles so he can’t move. Nice. He’s even more my bitch.
His legs go back with a simple push. Say you don’t want it all you want, but when your legs fly back that easily, you’re a fucking slut. I slam my cock back in L’il Bit’s tight hole. He groans. That’s not pain; that’s pleasure. I smile.
“You like that, fucker.” The jeans around his ankles are blocking my view. I’m too lazy to take them off. I push his legs to the left. He’s on his side. I continue fucking him. L’il Bit’s got a smile on his face as I continue fucking him. He doesn’t just like it. He loves it.
I want to really slam his hole again. I pull out. I move him so he’s hanging over the back of the couch. His beautiful, hairy ass is offered up to me. I can’t resist, I kiss it. I get my tongue in there and chew about a bit. L’il Bit moans like a mother fucker.
I get back in there. I slide it all the way into his tight abyss and then pull all the way out. I hover before slamming it back in. L’il Bit loves it. He’s moaning and mumbling. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but he’s enjoying it.
Slamming my dong back in, I begin to pump and thrust. His tight hole grabs my cock as I slide back and forth into his steamy hole.
As I’m getting close, his voice is getting higher. L’il Bit starts to squeal that he’s cumming. It’s enough to put me over the edge.
I lean forward and reach around his neck with my arm. As the throws of ecstasy and orgasm take over, I buck wildly. The feeling of release is complete.
Our sweat running together as I lay on top of him.
“Great fuck,” I grunt as I push off him.
Stepping back, I survey the damage: jizz stains everywhere. L’il Bit is quite a spunk machine.
L’il Bit looks at the mess. “Did I do that?”
“You owe me for the dry cleaning.”
He asks how much. I shrug. L’il Bit starts to pull up his pants, grabbing his wallet. I stop him. I tell him I’ll take it out of his ass the next time he comes by.
L’il Bit shakes his head. He says he can’t come back. He’s feeling ashamed. Used. Like a whore. He is. His cock still isn’t quite tucked away. I grab it.
“You’ll be back. You can’t stay away.” He starts to get hard again in my hand. L’il Bit tries to pull away. “Admit it.” I tug on his hardening meat. He keeps his head down. He says nothing.
I grip harder. L’il Bit is hard again. He whimpers. I’ve got him. “Yeah, you’re mine…”
L’il Bit pulls away and goes to the front door while buttoning up his pants. I spoke too soon. I move quickly as he starts to open the door. I bump in behind him, slamming the door.
I grab L’il Bit’s hair, “Where the fuck you think you’re going?” He says he can’t do this anymore. He doesn’t want it. I reach around. His huge cock is again hard as a rock.
My chest is pinning his head against the door. I reach around with both hands and yank open his jeans. I hear a thud. It’s his cock slamming against the door as it’s released from his jeans. I grab his meat as I push against him with my body.
“Tell me how much you want to leave,” I hiss. His cock is dripping as I pull and tug on his foreskin.
He whimpers softly that he wants to leave.
“Say it like you mean it,” I shout.
He says nothing. I demand that he tell me how much he likes it. He still says nothing. But his cock speaks for him: my hand is soaked with his precum.
Pumping harder on his meat, I feel the curves and bumps as my hand slides up and down the thick shaft. “You gonna cum for me, bitch?” L’il Bit answers with a moan. I feel him thicken and get harder in my hand. He’s close. I tell him to cum for me. He moans. I tell him to show me how much he loves and worships me.
He cums so hard he simultaneously bangs his head and kicks at the door. He shudders slightly. He feels good in my arms. We stand there for a second silently breathing. I want to nibble on his neck, but I know it will ruin the moment. Instead I say “Thanks, fag.” L’il Bit murmurs something.
I step back from the door and start up stairs. I stop and sit down, my semi-hard dick hanging down. L’il Bit stands at the door. He’s not moving. He doesn’t want to face me. I need him to. I want him to suck me off again.
L’il Bit turns around, teary-eyed. Is he fucking crying?. Fuck. This guy is so full of shame. He looks me in the eye and tells me he’s not a fag. I tell him I know. I’m lying, but so is he, so my lie is justified.
He’s staring at my cock. I make it bounce. It’s getting harder. He moves forward. It’s like he’s powerless against the draw of my cock. He’s weak-willed and a pussy. I’d tell him so, but I’m afraid he might actually walk out.
L’il Bit kneels on the first step and takes my cock down. He works my cock; balls. For a small guy, he sure can swallow a big cock. He fingers my ass again, which feels awesome. I tell him I’m gonna nut in his mouth. I grab the back of his head to let him know. He swallows my whole load.
He pulls off and smells his finger. I ask him if he likes it. He says yes. L’il Bit tells me he wants to fuck me someday. I laugh. I laugh because his cock is huge and would hurt the fuck out of me. He thinks I’m laughing at him because he’s a pussy. I don’t correct him. He quickly pulls up his pants and starts to leave. I ask him for a kiss.
He’s not sure what to do. I nod for him to come back. He walks over slowly. L’il Bit leans forward to kiss me. At the last second, I turn my head slightly so he kisses my cheek. Embarrassed, he starts to pull away. I grab him and pull him close. I kiss his neck. As much as I want to kiss him it would ruin the illusion.
L’il Bit leaves out the back door. I clean up the mess in the living room and entry. I decide to go for a short run. On my way back, I stop by some of the neighbors talking in the street. One of them comments how much he loves Saturday morning. I couldn’t agree more. Saturdays are great.
Posts
