I saw Camron online and immediately saw a cockiness in him, something I'm drawn to being who I am in bed.
"You like cock on the low for sure. I get a sense you still like pussy as well," I told him via message.
He admitted to both, expressing his deep request for discretion and I told honor'd honor it.
"Discretion is assured from me young man, but what you fail to realize is that you have an account soliciting hookups online, and that anyone, with the right frame of mind of snooping, could find you, and always expose you," I told him.
I might've said a bit much to him, but he understood and carried on conversation with me after reading my profile, which entailed me stating that I loved sucking dick, and eating a nice ass with the occasional urge to poke at the age of 65.
"Puerto Rican cock here guaranteed to fill you up," I also wrote, as that was something he'd harp on.
"You look good for an old man," he told me.
Old man? Old man, he said?
I being five foot eleven, 210 lbs., worked as a postal clerk delivering mail in some of the rougher parts of Portsmouth, Virginia proudly, as each day I walked miles in whatever weather to ensure folks received their bills or checks among other items. I also didn't smoke and barely would sip alcohol, as this combination in whole caused me to look good for my age.
"Let the number fool you and you'll be the fool," I told him.
"You must be from Harlem," he said in response. "Just this thought in the pit of my stomach."
He was absolutely correct as my brash New York City demeanor, even over the internet was on full display, and my hunger for something considered taboo would not be challenged as I already felt he was coming over to get dicked down (I claimed versatile, but leaned more in topping guys 90 percent of the time). I'd learn that he, too was from the Big Apple as he was raised in Queens, and that enticed me more, as the six foot tall, 180 lb. former basketball player carried a swag I recognized but couldn't pinpoint until he mentioned his origin.
"Southside Jamaica. I'm in the Navy," the 27 year old mentioned.
Jackpot!
"What are you doing up here this morning outside of teasing this 'old man,' as you call it," I asked.
"Just got off duty and before I hit the road for holiday break, I wanna get a nut," he told me.
We chatted back and forth a bit more and I passed him the address to my apartment in Newport News, as I happened to be off the route he was driving.
"Let's work on getting you a nut, or two perhaps, before your fine ass goes home," I messaged.
An hour later I was just walking out of the shower when my doorbell rang, and so I rushed to dry off then slip on my robe in order to answer the door. It was him.
"Come on in," I told him, as the young man, with his fresh haircut and trimmed beard, and jewelry hanging down his chest on top of designer clothing, had a nervous smile as he stepped through the door.
"Have a seat, son," I told him.
He'd sit on the couch with this goofy smirk on his face as I stood a few feet in front of him, studying him, seeing if this was a mistake.
"You want something to drink," I asked.
"Nah," he said.
"Something to eat?"
"Nah."
I chuckled and walked closer while pulling the string through my robe to make it fall to the floor, as my own eight inch python was eagerly engorged.
"So what do you want," I asked with my hands on my hips.
"This right here," he said as he removed his hat, then leaned forward as if he invited me to his mouth.
Usually my radar could smell out bottoms and tops but Camron was a little bit of an enigma since the wannabe thug came off hard until he wrapped his lips around my tip. I rubbed his wave patterns in his shiny hair while he blew me like the undercover trick he was, showing off his deceptive skill.
"You do this often," I asked.
"Not too much, but when I do I like to make it count," he said to me in that city drawl.
