We'd encountered this man, a coal miner from eastern Kentucky, shortly after the mine in which he worked abruptly closed and its management left him (and hundreds of others) literally out in the cold.
Having lived paycheque to paycheque, he now found himself in a tent encampment with others who shared his fate.
When pitched, his response of “a mouth’s a mouth and I never pass up a chance to get blowed” struck me as endearing.
At the hotel, a natural, subtle dynamic of control and submission evolved over the course of our interaction. His quiet dominance was such that I don’t know if he was even aware of it, it was so organic.
His dick was modest yet still utterly commanding to me; he had this dense pubic bush that advertised a virility and broadcast his scent.
I licked at his flaccid nub of a dick and started to blow the guy. As I was sucking him, he began tentatively thrusting which then gave way to his asserting a grasping control of my head with his hands.
His entire body shook; grunting and then “Dang, I'm gonna cum!”.
This man possessed an energy which defines a certain kind of quiet but palpable straight male masculinity.