Walking from the Louisville Water Tower park to the hotel literally across River Road, he was talking of his own struggles and "figuring things out".
He added that he was very self-conscious about his living with vitiligo (it's a skin pigment thing which causes patches light colour skin) and because of it was "afraid of women's reaction" and therefore didn't engage much.
I told him that I cared about him and his situation; him as a man, not blotches of light skin. This triggered something that I can't explain which manifest early on:
As I started to blow him, you could feel waves of his emotion. He started to 'sweet talk' in a way I have never encountered: darling; sweetheart; baby.
He began stroking my face and hair as I blew him. He was channelling me, in his mind, into a woman.
He was craving an intimacy that was both intense and emotionally charged.
In those moments, as he laid me on the bed and led me to spread my legs for him, I believe that he saw pussy and the physiological response in me was one of getting wet like a girl.
This straight man's dick felt like velvet when he penetrated me. He made a gentle and profound love for almost a half hour that was transcendent.
** I hesitated to post this, as I try to keep the content about the men, never about me.
I came to the conclusion that while this encounter is one that is not representative or characteristic of most of the content you see
(which is about my giving these guys head - think I’ve been fucked maybe four or fives times over the years), this experience happened and was chronicled towards the beginning of benevolentbjs and decided I should share it**
The Pinecrest Diner in San Francisco was the unlikely venue in which we met this dude. His debit card kept declining the purchase and I gladly “paid it forward” for him with no other intention.
That is, until we were shooting the shit outside the place and became beguiled by this humble man’s piercing brown eyes.
He politely declined at first but I could see the ‘straight dude wheels and cogs in his brain” bend and do gymnastics to rationalise his own opportunity:
getting his cock sucked as well as the psychological power trip of his dick as a profit centre.
A welder by trade, he walked with us back to the hotel and then just casually pulls down his pants.
In his merely his exposing his penis to me, that alone placed me in that ‘triggered’ headspace.
EVERY thing in that moment was about this man and his dick as if some natural order was playing itself out.
Mid blowjob I stop to just visualise his dick and he takes it in his hand and feeds it back into my mouth.
I suck, he begins to thrust; he grasps the back of my head.
Once he sees and feels that I'm completely impaled, his dick fully engulfed, it is only then that he unloads.
After I swallow, in an emotion laden voice I thanked him for letting me blow him.
I was rewarded beyond any emotion when he quietly responded “you did a great job”.
In that moment, my life was complete.