if your hair is not becoming to you, you should be coming to us
back in new york. the city is covered with snow, and since it's still falling, it's still white and clean and pretty, which is rare for new york snow. it has a muffling effect, so the city is quiet for a first too. the city seems to be waiting for the new year. my puerto rican barber shop ("if your hair is not becoming to you, you should be coming to us" on the business card) is open and we exchange happy new years as i pay and tip for my skin fade, numero tres on top, don't shape the hairline.
i got lots of reading and re-reading done waiting in the san jose and salt lake city airports, as well as waiting on the runway to get back home to new york city. check this out,
daniel picked me up and took me to his house. as we went through his front door i was pushed against the wall and kissed violently. ideas flashed into my mind. is this what i'm giving off? am i constantly inviting harsh treatment? we seemed to move in one fluid motion from the hall to the bed, squashing me underneath him. he held my arms above my head, firmly staked by his huge hands and stuck his tongue deep inside my mouth. as he pulled out, he lifted his torso up over me, hovered, then lowered himself down and pressed his crotch into my face. this felt predictable but at the same time sent a spark deep into my stomach and seemed to prickle something in my balls. holding my wrists with just one hand and the heavy weight of his body, he opened his fly and groped for his dick. taking it in his hand he pulled it out. it was warm and smooth and smelt incredible. he pushed it up against my nose and in the sockets of my eyes. this felt reassuring. i understood his teasing so kept my mouth closed but i couldn't help but nuzzle round his shaft, his hair and balls. again the smell reached far inside me, overriding consciousness and thoughts. his softness and hardness turned me inside out. i became consumed, physical and responsive, sensitive and lost. now his dick prodded my mouth, lifting and teasing, pre-cum sticking and wetting. i wanted so bad to lick my lips, to open and swallow the whole of him. the grinding action of his hips pushed his dick slowly inside my mouth, not stopping to rest, but straight on down to the back of my throat. daniel groaned, 'jesus christ.' i wasn't going to stop him and i loved his response, him loving the feeling i gave him. all i wanted was him to carry on, to keep giving me the ability to give. fucking and fucking he attacked my throat, so much pain and all i wanted was him to carry on. i freed one hand and tried to control his hammering, but he seemed to only go faster with more aggression. i reached for my own dick and pulled it free from being wrapped, so hard, in cotton and pre-cum, so swollen and desperate and aching. i jerked and was taken further into the scene, now right with him, as far gone and mean. my own excitement allowed me more, to except (sic) more of what he was giving. now so close myself, i let go of my dick and got my hand around his arse and it was perfect and pumping and loving me, so smooth and solid and mine. i forced him against me harder and harder. he loved this and so did i. "fucking yeah, baby." he laughed and moaned, getting faster and wilder and ramming and ramming so far in, then crying, 'fucking hell.' he spasmed and jolted and froze where he was, as he burst in my mouth and came and came. i shook and trembled, swallowed and choked, my dick squirting as i gasped for air. i could smell his cum. i could taste his cum as i fell back into my life. daniel stayed just where he was for several perfect minutes, his sweaty crotch spreading his cum over my now slimy face. i was happy. pulling out of my mouth he rolled over, then jumped up with a smile and a wink, then gestured some kind of washing action and headed towards the bathroom.
but please don't assume that just because i quote something challenging or disturbing or sleazy, that that means i'm into it or that it reflects me. i don't receiving those concerned emails, but i like even less that i worry about them enough (so what if i am into this?) to issue this statement. make sense? posted December 30, 2000 in delivery, print, sex