Hetero Grudge Fuck
So this guy calls me up from Aria Hotel in Vegas. Asks me to come see him. Says he’s a sub. Says he’s short on cash. Asks me for a discount. I say no. Says he’s with a friend. I say no. Says please come, Miles. I say ok.
I get there. I’m waiting at the guest elevators cuz I didn’t have a key to get past the fat fucking concierge with an attitude (racial slur held back). I make a mental note then to ask the client for his extra room key. I’m sick of going through this shit at Venetian and the Aria. Finally, I’m seated on one of the couches fucking around on Twitter when the client gets off the elevators and walks into the elevator lobby. I stand up. He sees me and nods at me. I join him and we hit the elevator.
On the elevator he’s standing really close to me, despite there was plenty of room aboard. We were on there with 3 girls in their obvious early twenties. All of which I wanted to bang right there and then but I didn't want to upset the client so I just kept my mind on the business at hand. We stopped once to let the girls off and then the client moved to the other side of the elevator. From there he just kept staring at me. It was a bit off-putting because he was so obvious about it. He stared so long, I finally just said, “You okay?” He said, “Yeah.”
We walk to the room and I fall about 20 paces behind him on the trip. He was a fast walker. I almost told him to slow the fuck down but I didn’t. I just let myself fall 20 paces behind him and followed him to his room. As he was unlocking the door, he looked back and watched me walk slash catch up to him. I took my time and just walked toward him. He asks me, “Why do you walk with your arms like that?” I said, “Because I’m trained to. As an officer I had to wear a tactical gear belt. You keep your arms slightly away from your sides so you don’t make a shit ton of noise walking.” What the fuck? I consider leaving.
We get in the room. I get him aside. He’s looking right at me and I can see he’s not completely captivated by me. I’m like, fuck. He grabs my dick rough in my jeans which just makes me mad. I’m like, fuck. He says, “You seem a lot bigger in your ad.” I’m like, fuck. “What the fuck? You mean taller?” “Just larger than life,” he says. “Yeah, taller I guess.” I consider leaving. I tell him to get on his knees figuring that would solve the problem. I forgot to mention this little badass was an inch shorter than me to begin with. A muscular short guy like myself.
He responds and drops to his knees and proceeds to give me some of the shittiest head I've ever had. I try putting him on ball duty. He’s not into it. I put him back on the cock with some instructions this time on how suck a dick, but he’s not really listening. I’m losing him, doctor, I’m losing him. I consider leaving.
I stand him up. I'm like, 'Get up.' Right then I notice his dick is sticking out of his jeans and rock hard. There he is. All five-foot-motherfucking-seven inches of him. All dark and tough, all moderately hairy and irritating. What the fuck? He says, “Will you suck me?” I say, “Dude, I’m outta here.” I start leaving. He says, “Wait.” I ask, “Did you even read my ad? I don’t suck dick.” He says, “I know. You’re a top.” I say, “No I’m NOT a top. I’m straight. Interactive straight male. That’s my scene.” I’m irritated. 'Professional Homophobe. That’s my hashtag. Look it up.' He says, 'What? Really?' I ask him, 'Did you read my reviews on Daddy’s? What the fuck?” He says, 'So...you’re straight?” I exhale hard, all exasperated and shit, and I say, “Yeah. I guess so. I guess I'm straight.' He's says, by 'who's guidelines?' I say, 'By the guidelines that I’ve never even given a handjob, let alone had a dick near my mouth or ass.”
Suddenly, his entire mood changes. He stops looking at me like the five-foot-eight inch disappointment I was before. He drops to his knees and pushes me gently onto the bed at the same time. I sit on the bed. My feet in sneakers hanging off the side. From the floor he takes off my shoes and socks and starts kissing my feet with the passion of the Christ or something like that. Okay, dirtier than that. More tongue. The ankles. The legs. I get hard pretty fast then. My pants come off. He devours my dick like it’s his last fuckin meal. Before I know it, I’m making him look up at me every thirty seconds so I can spit in his mouth. I'm using my fingers to open his mouth and I'm spitting in it. Let me tell you, spitting sans pre-discussion is always a risk. Some fags hate it. But I feel the odds have shifted in my favor at this point so I run it on him. Right in his throat. I tell him to look up each time and when he doesn't look up fast enough I just spit on him. Before long he begs me to fuck him. I oblige. I can’t wait.
I get a rubber on and lube up and I don’t even touch his ass until the head of my dick finds him. One, two little nudges first and then I go for it. What happened after that wasn’t exactly rape scene material. I thought about taking it there, but that wasn’t where I went. I’d call what I gave him a 'sophisticated and well-earned grudge fucking'.
I banged him out for about twenty minutes and halfway through he starts asking me to hug him. What the fuck? Hugs? I consider leaving. I don’t know what the fuck to do so I just dropped all my weight on him. All five-foot-mother-fucking-eight inches of me. I’m all muscle now so I know the little punk was really digging it. Not to mention, being hetero pretty much guaranteed me the front seat in this fuckers ride. I was good. Why leave now? I wrapped my arms (not hands, mind you) around his neck and just plowed his little pussy all passionately for the finale. I start whispering sweet demeaning nothings into his ear. The word fag gets used a lot. A whole lot. He asks me several times to cum on his face. On his chest or something. I can’t remember now. I said, “In your mouth.” He said, “On my face.” I said, “Okay. Fuck it. In your ass then.” And I fucked him till I blasted while fucking him. And here’s the best part. When I was done, he got all emotional and started kinda half-crying. It was all I could take. He begged me to stay inside him so I did. Then he kind of rolls us over so he’s lying on top of me, his back on my chest and we’re skewed a bit in position so he can turn his head and look at me. So he just stares at me with my dick still inside him, jerking off for like 2 minutes and he cums. I get out from under his twinky punky demanding ass. Wanted to push him off, but I was nice. I consider leaving but usually if I can rinse my dick off before I leave a scene, it’s easier to live with myself on the drive home. I take a shower and when I get out, he’s in the room and he goes over to pick up my t-shirt. Would you believe the little faggot started dressing me? Puts my tshirt over my head. I was still figuring out what the fuck he was doing as he did it. I thought, Jesus fuck, this punk is sick with respect for the str8 cock. - crazy. Unbelievable. How he turned. How my grip on a situation can be so loose one second, and then air-traffic-tight the next. As he's pulling the shirt over my head, he gets real close. I say, 'Dude, do not get any cum on me.' He swooned. I'm not even kidding. In the cartoon version of this scene I want little hearts going up.
I took over from there and dressed myself the rest of the way. He says he wants to look me up on Twitter. He says he wants to do it while I was there. He says, 'Miles, will you help me find you?' I helped him. He actually just needed help spelling Previtire. Pronounced it right though, which is weird. I noticed some money on the night stand we just fucked by. I go for it and say, “This for me...” He says, “Yeah, it’s for you, Miles. You’re really wonderful. Really hot.” I say, “Let me know if you need me.”
And I leave. The valet pick up at Aria Las Vegas is nice and close to the exit doors. As I walk out, I remember that I forgot to ask him for a godamn room key.
Apr 25, 2015, 10:04 pm