homo superior blogs

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“Is there still cum on my face?” I asked Chris while wiping my mouth again, feeling around on my face for any patches of dried semen I might have missed. We were sitting on the benches outside hlavní nádraží, dishing. About five minutes earlier I’d take the biggest load I’d had in awhile out of a short, butch gypsy boy named Sasha. I’d had my eye on him for weeks and he had flirted with me from a distance, using winks and nods and querying eyebrows. The other day his performance included a couple slow crotch-squeezes and smiles. I gave in.

Sitting next to him on his bench, I asked him, in Czech, how much for biznis. He said something I didn’t understand but that sounded like, 1000. Uh oh. I asked him to repeat it and then he held up some fingers and said, 400. Um, wow, I thought, but no, I always at least give 500, and said so. I may be poor but I’m not that cheap. Then he held up three fingers and mouthed the Czech word for 300. I raised the price and he lowered it. What was he on anyway? I found out later. We made our way to the one of the private cabins at the sex shop near the station, chatting a bit as we went.

So we’re back to the cum-eating part. [ Sorry for the inelegant segue. I'm usually better at them. ] I didn’t just take his load. He made me take his load: Standing, jacking off in front of me after a long, mutual sucking/masturbation session in the sex shop, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me closer so that he could cum in my mouth. Then he pushed me back, came some more on my own dick, came some more on my chest and then squeezed even more out and rubbed it on my lips, my cheeks and my chest. Eyebrows raised and cum dripping off the end of a curved thumb that painted my lips with jizz, the calm but focused expression on his face said, “Feeding time! Open up wide, little birdy!” The only gesture that would’ve made it hotter and more pervy, and perhaps less comical, would have been if he had then kissed me.

But Sasha didn’t want to kiss me at all. I made one attempt to make out with him but he turned his hard cheek to my lips and I didn’t push it. It was just as well. Sasha sniffs glue out on the station benches most days and the stench had filled our little cabin, making me light-headed. It was only the sweet, slightly floral smell of his crotch, and the fact that my nose was in it for most of the time, that let me tolerate the odor.

He took a long time to cum, which was just fine because he got rock hard within 30 seconds and stayed that way while I used every worshipful cock-sucking technique I knew to get him off. Finally, I realized it was going to take awhile and so I just enjoyed letting his beautifully formed cock poke and fuck my mouth while grabbing his butt with both hands. Really, the best looking dick I’ve seen on any boy in a long time. I moaned a lot. I slobbered a lot. I had to back off my own dick so that I wouldn’t come. Sasha’s dick may even be more handsome than Marek’s, which has been my favorite up until now. Sasha’s is thicker, and longer-lasting.

And the pre-cum! Sasha kept giving me warm little tonguefuls, preludes to the big one that finally came and came and came.

I tested his hole a couple times with a finger but the farthest he let me in was a inch or so into his crack. As I got closer to the peach, he’d clench and force me out. He didn’t say anything; he just flexed his buttocks to give me the message. A real straight boy. Buns of steel, by the way. The rest of his body is just as hard and naturally muscled. Although his chest is rather flat, his biceps are not. They look great in the white wifebeater he usually wears.

I had a great time with him. Ever since our 45 minutes in the sex shop he’s been coming and sitting beside me on the benches. He’s bought me a soda, fed me candy and gave me cigarettes. A sweet kid, really, and one I’d be crazy not to do again. Just watching him saunter around the station, like the hot, butch street kid he is, makes me break into a big, wide, cum-eating grin.