baltimore-7

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Subject: Baltimore Part Seven Please give a few bucks to Nifty. Baltimore Part Seven (formerly entitled No Plot, Just Filth) Josh I am going to mention a boy who was different than many in the neighborhood, his name was Josh. Somewhat older, Josh showed up around some of the other boys that I had relations with and quickly asserted his position before anything intimate happened between us. He actually challenged one of the other boys with a declaration of “No, no he’s mine.” I was taken aback that he would be so open about claiming me as his but Josh was self-confidently direct in many ways and other boys gave him no grief, a deferential respect that was surprising to me. I would guess that Josh was gay but he never made any statement to that effect, he just pursued his interests and that was having sex with someone he knew would be amenable, me. Josh was dark haired and physically attractive; not an Adonis, just a handsome lad. His personality made him a pleasant company and, aside from his desiring sex with a man, his sense of fashion gave the only outward indication of what he was going to be, but only to those who could see the signs. Josh wore what was “fashion forward” at that time; wife-beater, khaki pants and Timberlands; definitely not what white kids were wearing, even those attuned to urban trends in this city. I remember these accoutrements well; in the few weeks that Josh visited my apartment both played a memorable part in our rutting. Most of our encounters involved Josh getting inside only as far as the living room before he was bent over the arm of my couch as I yanked his khakis and boxers down to his knees allowing me to take him with alacrity. I had him on the couch a few times, on his back, with his pants bunched at his boot tops. The weight of his footwear easily kept his legs up around his ears and gave me a ready handhold for the deep penetration that ended our copulation. There were two occasions where Josh wore his boots only as I took him against the wall; I think I still have the bruises on my backside to prove it. He loved those boots. And my cock. I wouldn’t venture to guess which he loved more. I don’t believe I was his first but I may have been the first man that had his ass. What I remember about Josh was true for most of the boys who izmit escort wanted to be fucked, the emotional and physical stages of taking a cock that came across their faces, often a half dozen changes in a matter of a few moments. With a virgin, the fear and pain of ass fucking can ruin the experience for both parties but, given some prior experience, the entire gamut of sodomy can pass over the boy’s face; the vacillation, lust greater than the fear of being penetrated by a thick cock, the same swing from pain to gratification. We had sex about ten or twelve times in just under a month and it was intense. Josh made it known he wanted to come over to my apartment and when we got there I asked what he was interested in and he bluntly said he wanted to “have sex” with me. I asked if he meant that wanted me to fuck him and he said yes. I pushed the table that sat in front of the couch aside and told him get on his knees and suck my cock right there in the living room. He had sucked cock before, it was obvious. He went at it with a hunger and was making gratified sounds that were quite arousing. I only let him go on until I was half hard; it is easier to slip your cock into a tight ass if you are not super swollen. Maybe I was hornier than usual that day but I ordered him to stand and take a position bracing himself with his hands on the arm of the couch; I wanted him immediately. I tugged down his khakis and flannel boxers, not even loosening his belt; possible as Josh was a lean, fit teen, though it took a number of yanks as he was fiercely erect and his prong caught on the fly of his underwear. But, with a determined effort, I got his pants below his knees piled in a bunch above his boots. I could smell the smell of teenage boy. Not a dirty boy like Henry, Josh was just a hormone factory; his heady, potent scent wafted, another charge to my lust. “You sure?” I asked. “Yeah.” I spit on my fingers and went for his cleft. The boy moaned. I felt my cock swell in response; I was losing the battle to keep myself half hard. Back and forth I rubbed the soft, pliable skin covering the ring of muscle below. This elicited gratified moans. “Oh … Oh!” I pressed two fingers against Josh’s hot pucker and it quivered beneath my touch. His buttocks tightened and he began small thrusts, yahya kaptan escort pushing his anus back, seeking more and greater sensation. “Oh, yes!” He was near begging for it. “Lean forward.” I skinned back and put the leaking tip of my cock to his juiced up, ruddy boyhole. I pushed my phallus down with my fingertips seeking a better angle and eased into the young flesh. “Uhn!” “Let it in, Josh, let it in.” The teen tilted his ass and worked for my cock, grunting and exhaling with his determined efforts. When the Zeppelin-like mid section of my cock stretched the boy’s anus to its fullest, Josh cursed with pained gratification. “Ohh! Fuck, Alex.” Once past the greatest girth, I fed Josh the rest of my rod, pausing to let the boy gather himself. With my cock baking in its hot furnace, I repeatedly slid my hands over the muscled flesh of the boy’s back, pushing his white, thin ribbed, wife beater higher over the flare of his youthful lats. The tactile sensations of the boy, within and without, are the rare pleasures of an aficionado, usually lost to coarse, animal coupling. “Okay, Alex. I’m ready, fuck me,” declared the youth most directly. So much for rare pleasures. I began slowly, allowing the boy to dictate the pace and vigor of our union. Josh was not reluctant and I was soon driven to full thrusts. Moans, mostly Josh’s, grunts, mostly mine, and sounds of moist, sweaty flesh slapping filled the room. “Oh … Ahh … Oh, fuck … Yeah … Give it … Oh, yeah … Oh, yesss!” Near the climax of our rut, with Josh’s hands gripping the cheap fabric arm of the sofa tightly, the verve with which I applied myself to my task resulted in the furniture walking a couple of feet across the room in a series of noisy, half-inch hops. The boy came spontaneously, with no reach around, and I emptied my load, neck turned slightly, in a rigor of orgasmic restraint. It was but a minute before my organ slid from the dilated muscle, its corona caressed by the smooth ring for an erotic instant of mental and physical bliss. “Where’s the bathroom?” Josh was not a time-waster. I pointed down the hall and watched as he waddled, pants around his ankles and squeezing his ass tight. That was sex with Josh; direct, quick and a flare of passion, before a gebze escort return to the commonplace. No reflection whatsoever for the boy; a magnificent but transient state of Youth. Oddly, Josh was very self conscious during sex and abandoned himself to sensation only temporarily, becoming self-aware, as if he wanted to take stock of the moment and observe in an objective manner. After orgasm, one big squirt followed by a series of smaller discharges, three or four in number, Josh would finally relax in a soporific state for a just minute before he was back to his literal, determined self. I did suck Josh off before most of our sessions. It allowed him to last longer before coming a second time while I sodomized him. I loved the smell of his underwear in summer heat. He had a long appendix scar that was sensitive to the touch. Josh didn’t like me to touch it but I did so, to tease him and relax the boy. Pulling his boxers down revealed a dark cock and a darker scrotum. Josh had a goodly amount of dark black pubic hair for a boy his age, dark like the hair on his head. A long vein led like an arrow to the wrinkled ring of his tight foreskin. Licking the pissy, salty fleshy tip opening was a special treat. When Josh’s boyhood was limp, which honestly was hardly ever, he had a nicely uncut cock of about two inches or so; a nice dark package against creamy flesh. But, Josh would, soon after he had gotten his pants down, already have a half to full erection. It was a beautiful spiked organ, tapering to a point. When Josh masturbated, he did so without retracting his foreskin. His erect penis barely doubled in length but from base to pointed tip, it swelled in a gorgeous French curve, forming a swollen “belly” of turgid boyflesh. His mostly hair-free scrotum was full and, when excited, marvelously corrugated like furrows of a well-tended garden. I couldn’t resist lightly running a fingernail across these wrinkled ridges for my delight and amusement. Josh was a visitor, as I said, for little less than a month. I believe he went to stay with relatives in the late summer but, no matter, I didn’t see him again before I left the city in the early fall. I’ll remember him in several ways but every time I see someone wearing Timberlands it gives me a peculiar and particular smile. There are still a few boys who deserve a chapter. Kirk probably should be next. He was a recent �migr� and trying to be a good boy in his new country and for his hard working mother. It didn’t work out that way. Copyright 2018. All Rights Reserved.

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