The Fine Art of Fucking

While I prefer oral sex, there are certainly pleasures in fucking a man. Now, I’ve got friends that would fuck any ass that comes along, God Bless their little indiscriminate hearts, but I guess I’m a particular faggot and usually hold out for my kind of butt. Otherwise, like what’s the point?

For me, nothing keeps Mr. Peter stiffer than a nice beefy, furry butt and accompanying butthole, tight enough to feel good but not too tight that you need a stick of TNT and a gallon of machine oil to get in there. And that butt has to be attached to a regular guy, someone you’d bring home to Mother if you could, preferably in decent shape – no, not perfect – and definitely on the furry side. I want to fuck a man – if I wanted to fuck a girl, I’d fuck a girl. Period.

I also work best with guys closer to my own height – we’re just more compatible when it comes to getting our respective equipment in sync, though little 5 foot six me does get a kick out of fucking some six foot two slab of man.

And when you’re with a masculine bottom, you suddenly forget labels. You’re just two guys giving one another pleasure, each the way he likes it. I like to have that butt in my face for awhile, tonguing the fur around his hole, even sucking his tool,  before we move to the Main Event. And while fucking a guy from behind so I can stroke the fur on his butt while I screw him is hot, having him face me as he works my tits (which are hardwired to my cock) or his own tool and watch my dick tease his hole, going in and out, is truly Upper Ecstasy material. Soon, I’m carefully crawling up on the bed as he moves gingerly up, watching that Mr. Peter doesn’t escape, his legs (preferably hairy and muscular) slung over my shoulders, allowing me to plow him deeper and deeper with my 7 inch tool. It’s usually then that I feel the most affinity with my man as if we were both created just for this moment.

Having him a sling with his legs neatly harnessed and all his equipment – butt, cock and balls – there for my enjoyment, swinging him slowly back and forth as my cock slides in and it of his hole, makes fucking him true pleasure for both of us.

No joke – with the right guy and admittedly some pharmaceutical assistance, I can keep going for 45 minutes or more straight. I love the guys who want it too, and don’t wimp out fifteen minutes into things because their hole is getting sore. Gees!  These are usually the same guys who in their web e-mails wanted me to fuck them all night.

Throw in some dirty talk (“yea, man, fuck me, buddy, fuck me good!”), a mirror or two so he or I or both of us can watch, and, baby, well, let’s go to the video!

A gallon of gas five bucks? Iran starting a nuclear war?

Who the fuck cares?

Tomorrow: My Memorial Day Weekend Diary of a Pig

 

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