Administrators rawTOP Posted January 31, 2010 Administrators Report Posted January 31, 2010 Click here to see Adam's original blog post... In order to protect identities and important relationships, I've had to take a few more liberties than usual with certain details here in the first half of the events recreated in this entry. You'll probably notice. You can still get off on it, so enjoy! When we last left off our catch-up fucktales, I had just taken two loads from a drop-dead gorgeous, horse-hung Ivy Leaguer. It was a really active period - I was going out a lot, keeping really active, was in a downsizing company and probably was setting myself up pretty obvious health consequences that were going to follow. HIV+ guys have to take care of themselves, especially when not taking medicines, as I was not. But I thought I could live completely as before. It just wasn't true. But the Monday after the studly double-dumper, I sure didn't know that yet and I had one hell of an awesome time - after a rocky and irritating start. At that time, I was very casually seeing a guy (I'll call him "Austin") who lived in my neighborhood and worked as an actor in a Broadway show. We'd have coffee at Starbucks, go to his place or my place, suck each other off, and he'd go off to work and I'd go to the gym. I barely noticed we had become so regular, frankly, but it was becoming more than just friends with benefits or fuckbuddies. One Monday night there was a big fundraiser for an important cause at a Midtown hotel, and Austin asked me to be his date. We went. He is a bit shorter than me, a dancer and really good at everything but topping. He has sandy blond hair and rosy cheeks and a smaller-than-average penis (the better to fit into a unitard, I guess). As such, I didn't have much use for getting fucked by Austin, and since he was HIV- we tried to do a lot more with hands and mouths than with asses. But his ASS was amazing - it's really too bad I hadn't hit my stride as a fledgling versatile cause nowadays I'd be ready to practice my technique on that thing. I was a few glasses of open-bar wine into the evening and was secretly picturing Austin blowing me in one of the elevators when he introduced me to a friend of his. The friend was a finance type who worked in a nearby building and was quite attractive - he was probably in his late 30's, with salt-and-pepper hair and an obviously good build under his suit. He had thin cheeks, which made me wonder if he was poz (the older medicines cause the face to lose fat) or if he was just a runner. When I shook his hand, it was like rock. The conversation was odd, and I couldn't help but feel like "Vernon" was trying to seduce me away from Austin, which I found sort of sleazy. But he was still hot in a muscle-dad-meets-Anderson Cooper kind of way and I found myself repeatedly locked into his steady blue gaze. Eventually, Austin said he had something to show me (because that wasn't an obvious "let's find a place to hook up" line in a room full of gay guys - later I realized that was his way of making clear to Vernon that I was Austin's, not Vernon's) and he dragged me down a set of stairs into a linen closet where he proceeded to kneel and blow me until I was really close to spewing a two-day load down his throat. But then we heard whistling and decided to stop and head back upstairs to avoid getting caught and thrown out. A very friendly custodian instructed us to use the other stairs to find the restroom. The rest of the fundraiser was uneventful except for the fact that a bunch of gay people and their supporters got progressively more intoxicated. We weren't any better. Finally we headed out to Therapy to have one more drink to polish off the night. Austin ran off to pee and I immediately felt Vernon's strong hand on my thigh under the table. "You're super adorable," he said. My dick stirred, as did my guilt. "You're super drunk," I said, trying to move his hand away. He held tight and I let my hand stay there and my thumb started rubbing his hand. Oh shit, I'm flirting, I thought. "I'm not, actually. I can hold my liquor. Are you two exclusive?" the man's hand began to massage my thigh, higher and higher. "We're not, but you're his friend and I'm not a big enough asshole to hurt him by hooking up with you," I said, tugging at his hand again. My hand brushed against the hair on his forearm, where the sleeve of his dress shirt had pulled up. He grabbed my hand and pulled it onto his thigh. Oh fuck, I thought. This can't end well. And yet, despite my better judgment, my hand reflexively started to massage the rock-hard muscle this man had built in his legs. I noticed his blue eyes getting closer and realized he was coming in for a kiss. My heart was pounding in my chest in anticipation... Here was a square-jawed man's man from a major investment bank wanting to kiss me, with plump, perfectly-formed lips surrounded by the beginnings of the next day's beard. I didn't let him. I pulled my hand back and politely asked him to stop. We tried to move onto normal conversation but when Austin returned he immediately noticed the tension. "You hit on him, didn't you?" he sighed at Vernon with exasperation. He turned to me. "Just so you know, that doesn't mean you're anything special to him. He just gets off on ruining any chance I ever get with anyone." Which led to a minor argument and Austin storming off. I started to go after him but the bartender had my credit card... Shit! It should be said now that I hate hate hate hate hate unnecessary drama. I hate hurting people's feelings, I hate having my feelings hurt, I hate seeing other people's feelings hurt by other people - it's just unnecessary in almost all cases. Like this one. I called Austin to calm him down - oh, fuck the details, long story short ("Too late!"), I ended up annoyed at him and ready to go home. Vernon apologized after we left and we walked for a ways and talked. For some stupid reason I decided that the proper response was to make out with him there on 52nd and 8th. My dick started to stiffen in my pants as my hands groped his strong back. He broke off the kiss and said, "You're coming with me." He led me a couple blocks to a mid-rise office building right off Times Square. He walked through the door, waved a card, said hi to the night watchman, and warned me to be on good behavior in the elevator. His office had a solid wooden door and a spectacular view of the Hudson, and all the lights were off since the cleaning crew were done with his floor. It was breathtaking and I felt his lips on the back of my neck as I took it all in. His powerful arms encircled me and started unbuttoning my shirt. Soon I was naked and he hoisted me onto his desk, where my cock jutted up towards him. We made out like crazy as I shoved and pulled and yanked to help get his clothes off. When he was naked, he lay partly on top of me, pressing my back onto the cold desk. He kissed me violently and I gave it right back to him. A mounting wave of passion started to build, and I realized I was breathing almost like I was in the middle of a hard uphill run. The passion took on an angry edge too as it built - there was frustration as well as desire in the way he slapped my ass and the way I pulled his head back to lick his neck. I think this is my first anger-fuck! I remember thinking. I hadn't gotten a good look at his cock, but I felt it brushing around the outside of my pucker and I knew he was a top. Before I could even reach down to tug or stroke or anything, he spit on his hand, lubed it up and eased it in. "Oh, yeah," he groaned. It wasn't too thick, but it was long and he kept spitting and rubbing as he pressed most of the way in. But this wasn't going to be a methodical fuck. It was uncontrolled fuck-fury. He's marking his territory, I thought to myself. At first this thought combined with the partial discomfort to make my dick go soft but as he got into it - and finally asked if it hurt ("No," I lied) - I started to get hard again. He didn't plow deep, but he plowed hard. He jabbed, rammed, grunted and corkscrewed my ass and I found myself grinding back as hard as I could to get it in. Rage and cumlust pounded in my chest and my gut. I wanted that fucking load. "Fuck yeah, give it to me!" I grunted unevenly against the quick jabs of his cock. "You like that? You like it?" he whispered. "Try to keep it down, though, man." So for about 30 more seconds he fucked me with astounding violence and passion, when finally he pulled out and started emitting this high-pitched, annoying sound. You've got to be kidding me, I thought. He proceeded to spray his seed all over my balls, my cock and my abs, and not a drop near my ass. All the while making those woman-sounds. This made me instantly soft. "That was hot," he panted, coming down from the high. Um, until you wasted that load, I thought. I scooped some cum up and massaged it into my ass in an effort to get myself worked up again. I was starting to feel guilty, so I decided to just mop up the rest of the mess and go home. I began to feel like a real asshole as I walked the couple of blocks to my apartment. But I also realized that Austin overreacted and that he and Vernon had an unhealthy friendship if one of the two felt compelled and entitled to constantly cockblock and undermine. So I decided to forget about it. I got on the A train on 42nd St, took it to Chelsea, and walked to Gym Bar. That's when all of what led up to it became 100% fucking worth it! Check in soon for the rest of the night. And if I don't get around to it before Thursday - have a great holiday. More...
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