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Handyman- Scriptwriter - Ass Fucker
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Handyman- Scriptwriter - Ass Fucker Handyman- Scriptwriter - Ass Fucker Be sure to check out my FAQ post here for more detailed aspects of what I interested in. Affairlook deletes odd words, phrases and n•mberz. Please forgive any odd sentences or constructions.  Like all meetings of dubious opportunity, sketchy personas, and unclear agendas, I met this gentleman on craigs list. He checked all of my boxes: Married, straight, over 35, Black, and wanted a blow job. But exchanging emails, photos, and subtle innuendo does not always lead to satisfactory sexual encounters, much less an ass fucking that leaves your knees shaking - but this one did. Eventually. He drove over and knocked on the door. He was wearing gym shorts, a white t-shirt, Nike shower slippers. Taking off his sunglasses, he walked in and introduced himself, in a manner that indicated that he had a headshot, an agent, and had pitched an idea for a sitcom on Fox in the early 90s.  In one move, he sat down while dropping his shorts to the floor. He stretched both arms out on the back of the cushions of the couch and leaned back. His dick was half-hard, his balls of average diameter, his dick of above average length. His body was slim, toned, lithe, and nearly hairless. His skin was a cliché of mid-century, middle brow American literature: cappuccino colored, a permanent beach tan, a mixture of heritage, history and hidden truths. “Put it in my ass,” he said in a high, whiney voice. He wanted me to finger his ass while I blew him, but his request was a not a demand, order, or command. He was pleading for me to take a digit on my right hand, usually my index or middle finger, lube it and finger his hole while he got a wet, sloppy blowjob. His hole was hairless, tight, but not virgin territory. And then he let out a keening moan that was a cross between an adolescent squeal and an asthmatic wheeze. He trembled and came in my mouth.  We repeated this same scenario a few more times, each time him begging me to finger his hole. He’d talk about the script that he was shopping to various production companies, his family, and he would offer his handyman skills - for a price, of course. He had the same ease and grace that he possessed the first time I met him. Every room was a red carpet interview about to happen, a paparazzi pic about to be taken, a fan summoning up the courage to ask for an autograph.  The final time we met, he wanted to fuck me. I had thought that the way I fingered him, now with at least two fingers in his hole, he would want me to fuck him instead. This time we only hung out on the couch for a few minutes, before he stared removing all of his clothes and mine. He put one long, yoga-stretched leg out on the edge of the bed and kept one foot flat on floor and begged me to finger his, “pussy.” Was he really going to fuck me?  My doubts grew as he made the odd, high-pitched, non-sexual-yet passionate whine, as I fingered his hole and sucked his dick. I licked his pits, sucked his tight tits and fell into bed. And then something changed. The screenwriter/handyman with the ever expanding hole, began to finger my ass. He put me in a light choke hold and worked his thumb into my hole, spitting in his hand to moisten my butt.  I got on all-fours and he pulled me over to the edge of the bed. I was lubed, opened and ready to be fucked. He was no longer making the finger-my-hole whine, but breathing heavily and encouraging me to open my ass. As he edged his dick in my hole, he grabbed my shoulders and slowly pulled me back on his cock. He’s done this before.  He fucked me hard, forehead sweat falling on the small of my back. We got into the bed and he put me on my back, fucking me fast, slow and never stopping. He took a breath and rolled me on my side, and fucked my hole while holding one of my legs up the entire time. I felt my leg shake and my hole release any tension it had ever felt. For the first time, in a long time, I could feel no resistance, no pain, no tightening - my hole was completely open and grabbing his dick. He rolled me again on my back and fucked my hole hard as I grabbed my ankles.  He pulled out of my now gaping ass, and shot a load that covered my face and chest. He shook and yelled as he came. He took his cum off my chest and face, and without asking, wiped the load into my mouth. I never came and could have cared less if I did. My legs shook and my knees buckled. It took me two days to recover. I’ve never been fucked like that since.  We wiped up and got dressed. He made one more pitch about his handyman services —“ sure I could fix that window over there,” — before leaving. I don’t know what has become of him. When I called him the last time, his were in the<b> background </font></b>and, “this was not a good time.” Did he sell his script? Is he available for “repairs” on NextDoor? Or, did he leave his home in the North Hollywood/Burbank area for better opportunities and easier days?I don’t know, but I still look at the craigs list section of services offered. I search for handyman in the 818 and wonder, wish, and hope. |
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