Thursday, September 27, 2007

What We've Done

WARNING: The first part of today's posting is meant to be read to the tune of Linkin Park's "What I've Done". If you don't know the song, you can find it on the Internet. If you just don't care, well, read it in the more mundane manner.


In this hello
See your face
As you sit and cry
I've not one regret
From this fuck
Or our previous times

[Pre-Chorus:]
So why get mad now
the drama flows
What we've done

[Chorus:]
We got naked
To take cock as you well knew
My hot fuck toy
Hookup is all we've done

Put to rest
What you thought we'd be
While I drop you flat
With your hands getting so needy

So why get mad now
the drama flows
What we've done

[Chorus:]
We got naked
To take cock as you well knew
My hot fuck toy
Hookup is all we've done

For what we’ve done
I start again
To find another hot fuck toy
Today this ends
I'm not willing to date your hole

[Chorus]

What we've done
Forgetting what we've done


As you may have noticed, last nights fuck ended spectacularly. Yes, that is slight sarcastic.

The hot boy from the gym on base, married unfortunately, got weird on me last night.

I went to lift, hoping he would be there but not overly expectant, and ran into him during my second set. We talked briefly, quickly deciding to work out together. Now, even when there is a large disparity in what one partner can lift in comparison to the other, the mere presence of someone to impress and work with always helps your lift. At least, it does for me.

We went through the routine (biceps, back and abs), each choosing a few of our favorites to do a combined, hybrid workout. We finished, went to the locker room, grabbed our shit, and left together. Quickly.

We didn't speak at the gym regarding plans following our lift, but as we headed to our respective cars we both knew without words that he was coming over and getting fucked.

Hard.

We got to my place and barely made it through the door before he was on me. By this time I'd fucked him 3 times (this was to be 4), and he claims (which I believe) that I'm the only guy he's putting out to.

I didn't even need to pick him up. Before I could even close the door, he'd jumped on me, arms clamping tight enough to make my ribs crack, legs entwined around my hips and his mouth trying to suck the air out of my lungs.

I stood there, groping blindly at the door, finally getting it shut, and opened my eyes, staring at him as we sucked the fuck out of each others tongues.

I was hard. I was horny. I was ready.

I was wearing my typical gym garb, tank top and mesh shorts, while he was wearing some track style pants (no underwear included, I noticed) and a tight t-shrit. I moved, slowly, towards the table in the alcove of my kitchen, unwrapped his legs, and plopped him onto the table on his back.

I grabbed his waistband with my right hand, yanking the pants down to his ankles, then over his shoes. He lay there, table straining, a huge grin on his face, legs up and spread, naked from the waist down. Minus the shoes still on his feet, of course.

I stepped away, reaching for my easy pour bottle of Olive Oil (Bertolli, extra virgin which I'd used for a olive oil, pepper, Italian seasoning and balsamic vinegar dipping sauce the night before) that was sitting on my counter. I pulled my shorts and jock down a few inches, my hard cock and balls out and aching to be put to use and pulled off my tank top. I poured a generous dollup of oil onto my cock and turned back towards him and his hole. Before he could utter a word, I had my cockhead firmly against his rosebud, gave it a slight nudge and in went my head.

I sat there, enjoying the warmth, he had a hot little hole with just a bit of hair that always tickled my shaft, for about 4 seconds. Unfortunately, I wanted more and I didn't really want to wait.

I put my right hand on his shoulder, my other hand groping his cock, and shoved.

Hard.

His hole swallowed me without a hint of hesitation. Just the way I like it.

I gave an inward sigh, knowing it was dumb to fuck the guy bare, but trusting (or hoping more like it) that he was and is clean as a married Marine who claims to take cock only from me.

The fears were quickly pushed out of my head as he started to slam his hole against my groin, and I leaned forward, grabbed him harder and railed the fuck out of his hole.

It didn't take long, between his hole, the fact I was fucking him bare, and the use of Olive Oil (lots of friction), before I was getting close.

Some part of me was still thinking, and I pulled out of him, spraying my load all over his chest. It'd been awhile (2 days), and my nuts were pretty full. The first 3-4 shots covered his face and chin before it calmed down and simply coated his chest and abs.

I collapsed on top of him and lay there, kissing him, my cock dripping down his sides and onto the table top. The table groaned under the weight of both of us, and I quickly picked him up.

Standing there, looking at the jizz coating us both, I smiled at him. We went to the shower, where he rinsed off my cock and blew me. He got me going enough that I turned him around, and pumped his hole again, right there in the shower. Between the water, the fact it was, again, bare and little oil still lubing his hole, it took me only five or so minutes before I could feel my jizz rising. This time, as I got close, he refused to let go, clamping down on my hips with his fingers and thrusting backwards so that I impaled him fully.

I couldn't hold back; 7 good squirts shot deep into his bowels. He took my load, the fucking whore.

We finished up, got out of the shower, and lay on my bed, talking quietly in the afterglow of good sex.

At this point, it was about 2130, and I was beginning to wonder to myself what the little woman would be thinking about her husband not being home yet.

Almost as if on cue, he decided to admit that he and his wife were having serious marital problems, were in counseling, but that he was likely going to leave her.

Then, to make matters worse, he admits he loves me and wanted to leave her for me.

Shit, fuck and holy fucking donkey crap.

Now, someone who is obsessed (lets be frank people, if you are admitting to loving someone after 4 fucks and a total of maybe 6 hours spent with them, there is no other word to use besides obsessed) and in the service with you can be a complicated thing. If you shun him, he could go berserk and do something rash (i.e. stupid and out you both in spite) or just be a complete asshole and make things unpleasant, for revenge.

Either way, my mind whirled at the implications as I told him I was flattered, and thought he was a great guy, but that I couldn't really live with myself for being the reason to break up a marriage. The fact that I didn't even know he was married the first time we fucked helped alleviate the guilt (a little).

I agreed to meet him later in the week, and that it would be best, for now, for us both to take some time and process things.

Holy fuck.

So, now I've got a hot stud of a man who wants to leave his wife and be my BF. The problem is that while he's a great fuck, I have zero interest in him beyond that. Intellectually, interests (other than the gym), hobbies... we don't line up at all. He's a dude; a hot, in shape, good-looking, fun to fuck but dumb as a box of rocks kind of guy. Not my type to date. Plus, while I was on the thought, my stud of a pilot is coming out next weekend, and if I am dating ANYONE in the near future it is DEFINITELY going to be him.

I escorted him out, giving him a last goodbye kiss, and watched his taillights disappear into the darkness as I tried to think of ways to get myself out of my latest mess.

Goddamnit, why do I get so many crazies?

~Mike
Send Mike an E-mail

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I like ur blog but it seems u have a loveless lonely life and just meaningless sex i hope this pilot guy works out cause u need something real in ur life besides that dog shade ( hope u not touchin that dogs hole)

Anonymous said...

ha! love that you used Linkin Park. yeah, obsessed much? good luck with that.

Baltimorean said...

anonymous #1: what a weird comment...why would you even suggest something like that?!

and good luck, topmarine, with the married guy. kinda sad, though

Google Search

Google
 
 
Twisted Blogs