"I didn't come to chat. I came to fuck ass. You dig." Straightforward, good. A little unexpected, but not an issue.
We'd had some good chats over the last week or so. Pretty nice guy on the surface. Chill, good outlook on life.
His profile picture was the opposite of what you'd expect. Most guys, if they're being a bit underhanded, post something years old or more flattering than in person. I find it disingenuous.
His stats were 23, 5'11", 180. Light brown hair, brown eyes. His picture was taken at a bar, a smile on his face, Georgia Tech hoodie. Handsome, he looked thin.
In person he was a bit more built. Leg day looked like every other week, but his chest, arms and back were a sight.
I just nodded in reply. He'd started getting naked when he'd walked into my wife's apartment and was on full display.
Two wings of hair crossed his chest just above his nipples which were a brighter pink than his tan chest. It wasn't straight across but curved upwards from either side and dipped down at his sternum. The look then tapered as it continued towards his lower body, finishing in an arrow pointing to his crotch, just below the navel.
His legs and groin were hairless. Correction, stubbled. It didn't look like he'd done it today, and if he were into discussion I'd give him pointers.
His wrinkled sack was pulled up next to his body, below his girthy and somewhat gnarled prick.
It was a good six and a half inches. He was uncut. His foreskin wasn't a uniform circle, probably due to his head being somewhat asymmetrical. His shaft had a distinct bend downward at the base and another stage left around the 2/3rds down. The longer side, on my right, was smooth. No veins or features. The left was snaked through with a pattern.
It was beautiful.
My first plan had been to chat for a few minutes, then some oral. If he lasted through it we could get to the buttfucking. I'm not bragging on my oral skills, it's just that I've found younger guys have a bit less stamina and way shorter refractory periods.
I just smiled and kept undressing. He said he had a jockstrap fetish but I didn't own any. A quick search online and I found a fairly fast shipping on some knockoff company called 'Jockmail' that produced more fetish-oriented stuff, and they had a sale.
The model I was in were dark and light blue, the straps starting at the top of the basket rather than the sides, as tradition would expect. It looked better.
Mostly I was ready. I'd prepped myself pretty well, including a girthier base plug, only removing it a few minutes before his arrival.
I placed my hands on the breakfast bar and silently nodded my head towards a bottle of lube.
He took the cue and I heard him apply it. A second later I felt a slick hand on my left hip and a slicker press against my hole.
When he said he'd wanted to fuck ass he wasn't joking. I inhaled as he pushed himself in a couple inches in the first press. "You're hot inside. I won't last long. This time."
