Nintendo (flashback)
I have a secret for everyone reading my blog. I have found a web site that is more fun to browse than gay.com, and unlike Adam4Adam REQUIRES and INSURES that all of its registrants have accurate and up-to-date pictures. You don't have to worry about any more misleading statistics, because they verify height, weight, and even age! Are you excited? Don't get your panties in a bunch. Even if you find a hot brotha on the site you probably will think twice before you bring him home--the website is the Chicago sex offender registry (click for link).
Ok, I admit that I have a problem. I regularly view Chicago's online sex offender registry and cruise men. I look all over the city--but I pay special attention to the three police beats that make up my neighborbood. Yeah, it's sick. I know. Most of the guys look creepy--either they are overweight, balding, toothless, wide eyed, sport a Care Free Curl, wear coke bottle glasses, or look greasy. But occasionally I run across that guy who is fine--who is over six feet, and close to 200 pounds, and I fantasize that prison has molded his shape into a buffed-out "doing-it" machine.
And I look at their faces. Few of which "look" like they belong to a criminal. And I wonder what particular sex crime they committed. The registry indicates whether their victim was under 18. Did he have sex with a 16 or 17 year old who lied to him? Or did he get caught pulling an R.Kelly? And if they committed the crime, I wonder if they feel sorry. Whether they want to commit more sex crimes. Whether other people are looking at the registry. And I wonder whether we are safer being able to click and see the neighborhood ex-con.
Anyway--couple of years ago I met a guy--NINTENDO--on the telephone party line who lived in a high rise over on 47th and Lake Park. He described himself as being very attractive and that he was looking to fuck immediately. It took me a minute, but I rushed over to his place and was let in by the doorman. When I got to the door and he opened it, my mouth fell open. NINTENDO was about 5'10, 220lbs, 34w of light-skinned, tatooed muscle. Not only was his body nice, but his face was amazing--nice full lips that pouted and looked like they were etched in his face. He looked awesome.
I was nervous as hell. I always get nervous when I am around men that I think are fine. He invited me in and told me to sit down. He was masculine, kinda thuggish, and spoke with a lot of slang--but at the same time he was chilled and laid back. We made small talk and for some reason he told me that he was Jamaican and Puerto Rican. I didn't care. I am never amazed by the vast amount of supposedly mix ancestry black folks.
I took off my jacket and I was wearing a shirt that had a lot of Spanish on it. And he asked me if I spoke it. I told him that I knew a little. I asked him if he understood my shirt and he told me, "No, my dad never taught me Spanish." In what seemed like an attempt to impress me, he continued, "But I speak Arabic," and then immediately broke into a chant of some of the most affected Arabic I have ever heard--"La ilaha ill-Allah, Muhammad-ur rasul-ullah."
I nodded and smiled, but didn't comment. When he wasn't looking I rolled my eyes. I never told him that I also knew arabic--and that he mispronounced much of the phrase that, in English, meant, "There is no god but God (Allah) and Muhammad is his messenger." But I wasn't there to correct his Arabic pronunciation. I was there to speak in other, more unintelligible tongues.
NINTENDO walked over to the wall and, with his feet, pushed over a black plastic box/console that was sitting next to the television. It looked a lot like a Nintendo or an X-BOX video game console (which is why I named this guy NINTENDO). It was plugged into both the wall and telephone. I thought it was a little odd that his video game system was plugged into the phone, but I had just read an article about this new technology that allowed video game systems to download games over DSL and telephone lines. As a lover of tech gadgets and gizmos, I thought to myself:
Damn, this guy is hot AND he is technologically savvy. If the sex is good maybe we can hang out and chill from time to time.
We got naked quickly. He took off his socks and I noticed a sporty nylon black band around his ankle with a plastic buckle. It looked like a pedometer (step meter) to measure how far he walked when he exercises. NINTENDO seemed to take fitness seriously.
His sexual script changed from what we talked about on the phone line. He said that he had just masturbated and that he didn't feel like fucking--but after seeing my dick he said, "I wouldn't mind sucking on that dick though."
I'll be honest. Oral sex really isn't that big on my to-do list. I have always thought it was a poor substitute for fucking. And most guys don't know how to suck dick. Lots of teeth, or they suck it like it's a straw and their last meal is on the other side.
NINTENDO changed all of that. To this day, no one has ever sucked my dick like he did. It was as though he was nursing a bottle. His mouth was soft, his lips were soft, even his saliva was soft. I had to pull away frequently from him to keep from coming too quickly. Only two people had ever brought me to orgasm from oral--and none as quickly or as pleasurably as NINTENDO. I kept having him stop and start again. It was like he was in outerspace and my dick was his oxygen mask. At that moment I knew true happiness.
But then I heard a loud buzzing noise. It was ringing like a telephone. It was coming from the X-BOX/Nintendo video console. What was going on? NINTENDO got off his knees and ran over to the X-BOX, pulled a wire chord from the back of the console and stuck it into the plastic pedometer on his ankle. The buzzing and ringing stopped.
As he walked back towards me he said, "Sorry about that man. It's a bitch being on house arrest and all."
A wave went through my body and I started thinking:
The black plastic pedometer...an ankle bracelet?
The X-BOX...a house arrest monitoring device?
He got back on his knees and went back to his work. But this time I experience the joys of the dick suck through new eyes. I started thinking to myself:
So that's why he had this worked-prison tattoo body...
suck suck suck
Ahh, that's where his hard edge comes from...
more sucking and slobering
And no wonder he sucks dick so well...Oh, Oh, Oh shit.
I came.
Overall the sex act was spectacular (yeah he left a little puddle on the floor). When we finished I thanked him and hurried the fuck out of his apartment. A year later I was cruising the sex offender site and saw a picture of him. He looked as hot on the Internet as in person. It was almost easy not to notice that his sex offense victim was over 18. Almost.
Ok, I admit that I have a problem. I regularly view Chicago's online sex offender registry and cruise men. I look all over the city--but I pay special attention to the three police beats that make up my neighborbood. Yeah, it's sick. I know. Most of the guys look creepy--either they are overweight, balding, toothless, wide eyed, sport a Care Free Curl, wear coke bottle glasses, or look greasy. But occasionally I run across that guy who is fine--who is over six feet, and close to 200 pounds, and I fantasize that prison has molded his shape into a buffed-out "doing-it" machine.
And I look at their faces. Few of which "look" like they belong to a criminal. And I wonder what particular sex crime they committed. The registry indicates whether their victim was under 18. Did he have sex with a 16 or 17 year old who lied to him? Or did he get caught pulling an R.Kelly? And if they committed the crime, I wonder if they feel sorry. Whether they want to commit more sex crimes. Whether other people are looking at the registry. And I wonder whether we are safer being able to click and see the neighborhood ex-con.
Anyway--couple of years ago I met a guy--NINTENDO--on the telephone party line who lived in a high rise over on 47th and Lake Park. He described himself as being very attractive and that he was looking to fuck immediately. It took me a minute, but I rushed over to his place and was let in by the doorman. When I got to the door and he opened it, my mouth fell open. NINTENDO was about 5'10, 220lbs, 34w of light-skinned, tatooed muscle. Not only was his body nice, but his face was amazing--nice full lips that pouted and looked like they were etched in his face. He looked awesome.
I was nervous as hell. I always get nervous when I am around men that I think are fine. He invited me in and told me to sit down. He was masculine, kinda thuggish, and spoke with a lot of slang--but at the same time he was chilled and laid back. We made small talk and for some reason he told me that he was Jamaican and Puerto Rican. I didn't care. I am never amazed by the vast amount of supposedly mix ancestry black folks.
I took off my jacket and I was wearing a shirt that had a lot of Spanish on it. And he asked me if I spoke it. I told him that I knew a little. I asked him if he understood my shirt and he told me, "No, my dad never taught me Spanish." In what seemed like an attempt to impress me, he continued, "But I speak Arabic," and then immediately broke into a chant of some of the most affected Arabic I have ever heard--"La ilaha ill-Allah, Muhammad-ur rasul-ullah."
I nodded and smiled, but didn't comment. When he wasn't looking I rolled my eyes. I never told him that I also knew arabic--and that he mispronounced much of the phrase that, in English, meant, "There is no god but God (Allah) and Muhammad is his messenger." But I wasn't there to correct his Arabic pronunciation. I was there to speak in other, more unintelligible tongues.
NINTENDO walked over to the wall and, with his feet, pushed over a black plastic box/console that was sitting next to the television. It looked a lot like a Nintendo or an X-BOX video game console (which is why I named this guy NINTENDO). It was plugged into both the wall and telephone. I thought it was a little odd that his video game system was plugged into the phone, but I had just read an article about this new technology that allowed video game systems to download games over DSL and telephone lines. As a lover of tech gadgets and gizmos, I thought to myself:
Damn, this guy is hot AND he is technologically savvy. If the sex is good maybe we can hang out and chill from time to time.
We got naked quickly. He took off his socks and I noticed a sporty nylon black band around his ankle with a plastic buckle. It looked like a pedometer (step meter) to measure how far he walked when he exercises. NINTENDO seemed to take fitness seriously.
His sexual script changed from what we talked about on the phone line. He said that he had just masturbated and that he didn't feel like fucking--but after seeing my dick he said, "I wouldn't mind sucking on that dick though."
I'll be honest. Oral sex really isn't that big on my to-do list. I have always thought it was a poor substitute for fucking. And most guys don't know how to suck dick. Lots of teeth, or they suck it like it's a straw and their last meal is on the other side.
NINTENDO changed all of that. To this day, no one has ever sucked my dick like he did. It was as though he was nursing a bottle. His mouth was soft, his lips were soft, even his saliva was soft. I had to pull away frequently from him to keep from coming too quickly. Only two people had ever brought me to orgasm from oral--and none as quickly or as pleasurably as NINTENDO. I kept having him stop and start again. It was like he was in outerspace and my dick was his oxygen mask. At that moment I knew true happiness.
But then I heard a loud buzzing noise. It was ringing like a telephone. It was coming from the X-BOX/Nintendo video console. What was going on? NINTENDO got off his knees and ran over to the X-BOX, pulled a wire chord from the back of the console and stuck it into the plastic pedometer on his ankle. The buzzing and ringing stopped.
As he walked back towards me he said, "Sorry about that man. It's a bitch being on house arrest and all."
A wave went through my body and I started thinking:
The black plastic pedometer...an ankle bracelet?
The X-BOX...a house arrest monitoring device?
He got back on his knees and went back to his work. But this time I experience the joys of the dick suck through new eyes. I started thinking to myself:
So that's why he had this worked-prison tattoo body...
suck suck suck
Ahh, that's where his hard edge comes from...
more sucking and slobering
And no wonder he sucks dick so well...Oh, Oh, Oh shit.
I came.
Overall the sex act was spectacular (yeah he left a little puddle on the floor). When we finished I thanked him and hurried the fuck out of his apartment. A year later I was cruising the sex offender site and saw a picture of him. He looked as hot on the Internet as in person. It was almost easy not to notice that his sex offense victim was over 18. Almost.
posted by Bernard Bradshaw at Thursday, January 06, 2005
2 Comments:
Been there. Done that..but my guy wasn't that fine and he was in trouble for insider trading. Not nearly as exciting.
Bernard, an absolutely bloody brilliant post this! I will never look at an X-box the same way ever again. Hahahahahaha!
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