Encounter Bay Anal

A True Story

I preface this by saying I’m more attracted to men sexually than physically. I like real older men 60+ with a belly and grey hair, or no hair! I like curves and bumps and chest hair. I like character and faults. As long as they are kind, look after their appearance and are clean and smell nice I’m a potential candidate.

He is one of those rugged mature guys who fits my profile not too hot but hot to my eye; but on this day he's there with a crisp collar black shirt, styled forward silver hair and a freshly trimmed beard, creating this impression of a washed-up rockstar propped up at the bar with his RayBan sunnies clipped to his shirtfront, sipping on a lowball glass of whisky.

The clunk and crackle of the ice as he placed the glass back on the counter and a smile sneaking into the corner of one side of his mouth as he recognised me walking in, not to over-react and break character, but welcoming me with a firm handshake and immediately ordering me a matching drink and pulling up a stool to join him. It still felt like meeting my silverbear for a fuck, but this time it was out in the wild and I with this get-up doing nothing but impress, I was more than motivated to by at his side.

We usually just hook up at his beach house and it was down to business. He’d greet me in a robe with a Viagra-charged cock rearing behind the white toweling, so this presentation was a side of him I hadn't seen before. The whole rugged-handsome package punched my buttons almost as hard as I wanted him to punch my wet gay fuckhole. Lets face it; it wasn't just admiring his looks I was there for.

The need for public discretion necessarily curtailed my enthusiasm and his almost method actor-like adherence to this silver foxstar persona allowed us to have a stiff drink as just a couple of guys at a bar (with a 20yr age difference), him to drop a tip to the barman to affirm his lips remain sealed and slip away relatively incognito where I followed his car back to his – like him- understated but fantastic holiday house on the spring sun-soaked Fleurieu coast.

I think I almost undressed myself because I can't remember him doing it. My recollection is that soon after the door closed and I'd followed him up the stairs to the panoramic living space overlooking Encounter Bay, I was knelt before him on the floorboards with his belt flapping open and his jeans pulled down enough so that his beautiful cut cock was hardening in my mouth. Eagerly I sucked him and he cupped my head in his hands and guided his thickening penis down my throat. I sucked him like some fanboy sucking the lead singers cock backstage after the show, or more accurately like a tribute show tour and a former fan from his heyday getting to finally taste the formerly unattainable flesh.

As it had before, his reliably randy cock was quickly as thick and turgid as modern science permitted and I was lavishing his swollen tool between my lips, inhaling his sweet clean manly aromas and exerting all the forces of oral craftsmanship I could muster to please and summon his passion for me. His knees bowed slightly in approval as my tongue raced around his bulbous knob and into the eye of the cock I was now focused on being buried 8 inches into my smooth hungry arse. We kissed and I was lusting all over him. By contrast he was measured and in control. His calmness controlled me.

My nakedness made for simple prep of my already moist and partially gaped arsehole, with his fingers detouring via my mouth to find the target between my pale cheeks and pressing double digit deep to rediscover how much of a hot and rampant boy- box I have. He pushed me onto the large luxury white fabric couch and he alternated from my arse to my mouth building up his digital presence in me, prising my pussy open and willing me to arch my back and welcome his opening act on my anal stage.

He shoved me around roughly and gripped my hips. I sensed the sudden increase in tempo and playfully smirked, knowing I had aroused the beast inside him. The beast I knew was there from the previous encounters. He spat and rubbed his saliva into my yearning hole, jammed and twisted them into me and told me how much he enjoyed using my juicy cunt. I felt him align me from behind, ready for docking, and in a solid push or two he penetrated me and I whimpered slightly at the sheer pleasure of his body entering mine.

He buried my head forward into the couch cushions and set to work on my hole. His trademark verbals began as he called me his pathetic fucktoy and asked me what kind of a whore lets a 68yr old married man he met in a bar sodomise him and ejaculate in his arsehole? It was a fair question under unfair circumstances!

After all, he'd been fucking me on and off for almost a year now and I'd come to this luxury seaside holiday home an hour from Adelaide like a vyo escort, arriving dutifully to have my bum used and pumped full of sperm, them turned around and sent home with minimal emotional connection and I'd done it completely free of my own will. In fact it was the disconnect and that lack of emotion from him that made me want him even more. But to ask me that right at that moment, as his gorgeous mature cock ploughed its way into the depth of my willing younger arsehole, was completely unfair! "Because I'm your fucking whore" I panted, or something like that, desperate to be his whore even if it was with no more reward than the title and a bum full of cum to take home as my payment.

His cock sunk balls deep in and he fucked me with strength and determination to find the angle that made me flinch then press back against him wanting more. My arse gave in to him and opened up, slurping for air at times as he hollowed me out from behind, then maneuvered me on top so we could kiss breathlessly as I learnt forward and he parted my cheeks and invaded my hole from underneath. I sat up and leant back so all of him was inside me and I felt him wrestling his cum-demons as his balls tightened sporadically trying to avoid unloading in me. With this encouragement I milked at his dick with my experienced cunt and took away some control from him long enough to see the pleasure on his face that my fuck hole was giving him.

From back to front, top to bottom and side by side, my mature cockstar played his solo to beat of his cock hitting my bass drum and I found myself hard and leaking from my own cock, as it waved around like a poppy in the wind, unable to touch it for fear of bringing forward my own crescendo. How good did he feel inside me? My body was running its own book on that and my hard dick was taking no further bets. Banging away at my gay-spot any control was gone and as he slammed me side on with my knees raised up enough to get the angles mathematically correct for his knob to tenderise my prostate and in a few moments there goes my cum in uncontrollable ropes all over the white couch and I ejected his cock from my arsehole like a gay cunt catapult.

His hand moved to my neck and he directed me to lick up my own sperm from his precious couch, then his glistening glazed hard cock appeared at my face demanding to be sucked clean, tasting all that musky cooze and arse cream as he made it very clear that the favour he'd done me didn't come without return. I rarely finish first. If at all. I’m a bottom guy in the true sense that’s my relative pleasure. So it was a precious moment, if that, to clean up my own salty briny mess and taste the triumph on his sloppy shitty beautiful tool before returning to my duties as his fuckhole cum dump.

It was time to open my gaping hole wide enough for the star of the show to build up to the finale, so I positioned myself head down bum up and on the floor and pleaded with him to fill me up with his goo. As he moved behind me I sensed a moments hesitation then the sensation of warm liquid and the realisation he was pissing into my arsehole. OMG at that moment I think I nearly came again, his timing and the way it caught me off guard was so erotic and shamelessly lusty. As his warm stream filled my raw insides I didn’t think long enough to hesitate and just turned around and opened my mouth to take his piss straight into my mouth. Here I was a desperate and pathetic married part-time gay slut drinking my mature lovers piss in his million dollar home with my arse dripping piss and aching for more cock like never before!

He sat me up on his cock on the couch and I straddled him like a big gay daddy pose with his pole squarely in my horny bum. We kissed deeply and he asked me if enjoyed drinking his piss. I nodded. Did I enjoy it really? Fuck yes! I was in the shameless zone, and the sexy beast was pushing me further down to his solo performance. I wriggled and swayed my hips and his cock found its way every millimetre into my aching cunt. He guided my hips and I rode him in a concert of anal harmony where I put in my best hot arseslut performance.

i rode and writhed and he pushed me back to the couch with my head down and bum up so he could stand and enter me doggy style. His cock rammed at my bowels and I screamed out for no apparent reason than this was just such a hot fuck that I felt the need to yell it from the rooftop. I pushed back against him I just desperately wanted his sperm inside me it was all I could think about. "I want your cum in me!" I shouted. I just about begged. He was right on time and pumped that warm cum into my depths with a guttural moan. I could feel it pumping away as his balls hit their rhythm and fully seeded my hole. He pushed down on my shoulders to keep me there and hold that cock of his into the pink of my bowels for him to fully impregnate me.

It was an exhausting and utterly satisfying fuck. I couldn’t help but giggle as I fell away and his cum and piss leaked from my destroyed pussy, the gape large enough to feel the cool air contrast with the warm jis in me. What a mess! He just looked at me mouth open sweat gleaning his forehead; “Fuck!” was all I think he said to me. That could’ve been fuck that was good or fuck what a mess. The floor was wet with piss and the couch stained with cum and sweat. I apoligised and he insisted it was fine. Of course it wasn't. I went in for a reassuring kiss and he pushed me back, still claiming his breath. Or so I thought. And there was the disconnect.

This rockstars performance had concluded. The show was over. No encore would be had at this performance. It was time for this fanboy to leave. I'm hoping to be back for the next show tho, once the new dates are booked and the venue secured.

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