Experience and maturity, one hot black cat

Experience and maturity, one hot black cat

WARNING

This blog does contain adult and gay material. If you are under your country's legal age (18 or 21), do not scroll down and leave this page now.

Thanks

By Richard de Orizaba

I met Carl Johnson when I was advertising in the local tennis club for a partner to play tennis once or twice a week.

We met at the club for brunch and he impressed me as being one very energetic and accomplished dude. He told me a little about himself and I in turn told him about my professional life as a journalist and where I came from. I am always avoiding the imminent inheritance and the extent of my family’s wealth. I don’t like to flaunt it because I think it is sort of disingenuous to do that.

Carl was a retired air line pilot who now has a small flight training school in nearby Ellington field, just off I-45 and he told me that he also acted as an independent contractor to an aircraft manufacturer to deliver newly purchased or renovated aircraft. He seemed to be on solid financial ground.

When he told me where he lived I nearly had a cow. He had purchased a beach front lot back in the seventies for a ridiculous sum. He built a house on it and it is now worth over a million dollars. Of course, the only problem he has is that the house is not insurable because of the hurricane threats. But he said that he owns it outright and is not too concerned as it sits pretty high up the beach bluff.

He told me he was divorced and had three teenage kids. He then pulled out a photo from his wallet and showed me the kids who were very light skinned and then he explained that his ex-wife was white and a former flight attendant. He described her as a “trophy wife” who didn’t cook, didn’t do housework and was one of these “me, me, me” types. He seemed to be very affected by this break up which he said had been recently. I then assumed that Carl was straight. There wasn’t one trace of gay or any indication that he was anything other than a card-carrying, practicing heterosexual.

We went and played tennis right after that and he beat the crap out of me. The following week he couldn’t play because he was delivering a plane. But the week after that we played again and once more he gave me a humiliating defeat. The guy was a good tennis player.

After the game he felt bad for me and tried to smooth my ego by inviting me to the airport and look at his small operation. He owned a couple of planes for the flight school and a jet for his personal use. He said he seldom had a chance to use it but that he wanted me to come along the next time he took it aloft.

Carl was charming and intelligent. At age 52 he was the picture of a very energetic man, a successful dude and I almost envied him.

We played again twice the following week and this time I gave him a run for his money, but I still lost. The loss was not as humiliating this time and I think he was proud of me.

Two months went by and Carl finally asked me if I was going to be free that weekend because he had to be in St. Louis and was taking the plane along with a couple of paying passengers and he asked me to come along. I accepted.

We arrived in St. Louis and went straight to the hotel which was near the airport. He had to go and take care of some business and left me by the hotel pool. I had to entertain myself for a few hours.

When he returned he had a very broad smile on his face. He said that the meeting had gone very well and that he was “blessed”. I took that to mean that he was a religious man who was appreciative of his good fortune.

I was sitting by the pool and he came to get me. He said that we should have a drink to celebrate. He ordered a bottle of champagne and we returned to the room to drink it. They delivered it right away and then he started to undress. He did so deliberately and slowly, right in front of me as if he was performing for me. I suppose that my eyes never left his body since with the shedding of each article he was showing his beautiful body. I mean, this guy in his fifties had a better body than most men half his age.

I kind of wanted something to happen between Carl and me, but I thought it was just a dream, the guy never gave me an indication otherwise; and now he was standing in front of me after doing a strip tease type of undressing and he said: “Tell me Richie, do you like what you see?”

Me- “uh, well, ah, it’s, ah, uh” and as articulate as I usually am, I just could not find what to say. I was in a state of shock, surprise and at the same time desire and lust.

Carl made it easier: “Would you like to suck my dick?”

He then walked over towards me and just stood in front of me, no more than three feet away. The sight of this virile man was so incredibly tempting. He had muscles everywhere, all well defined and in the best possible physical shape they could be.

Carl just sort of put his arms behind his head and did a body builder type pose. He contracted the muscles and then it was the arm to show the biceps. When he lifted his arms, the underarms I was looking at were incredible: tufts of black hair in small clumps and so terribly alluring. I was now anticipating and imagining how I was going to lick and suck that beautiful torso.

Then Carl made a turn and he showed me his back, by now he had pulled down his skimpy g-string type underwear.

The ass before me was monumental. I can’t describe it otherwise. You know how black guys tend to have that extra curve, the well defined indentation in the lower back which makes the butt stand out even more? Carl had that and it was glorious!

Carl turned back around and got even closer, now his cock was less than six inches in front of me and the mother fucker was huge. His was uncut and thick. He was as big as me if not bigger but a lot thicker. I just had a thought through my mind: what if I can’t take that big cock up my ass? I remember Hans and how it hurt and left me bleeding for a couple of days every time we had sex.

I wanted to suck that cock and then go up the perfect body, the chest that was unshaven, not smooth like these twinkies have today and the icing in the cake would be the armpits. I was hoping that Carl didn’t use deodorant, or at least he had washed his armpits so that the taste of the deodorant would not sting my taste buds. Carl didn’t and he smelled like a man should. The scent was not overwhelming, just that faint hint of masculine prowess and sensuality. It was a total turn on for me.

I know that Carl’s face was not pretty. He was no Gentleman’s Quarterly model. He had burrows on the side and worry lines on his forehead. His nose was gigantic, thick and imposing. But Carl had the rugged appearance of a very masculine man, not a pretty boy, not a model, not skinny, for sure not anorexic. He was mature and the many years of working out at the gym were showing their result.

Carl understood my fetish. He knew how a guy’s pits could turn some people on, he had a little of that himself and when I started to lick his chest, he put both hands under my armpits kind of rubbed them and then brought them to his nose to smell them. He just uttered: “ahha, ahha”

It was then that Carl finally kissed me. He was one of these dudes that when they kiss you they just take all of your energy away, he just sucked my soul out through my mouth. This was starting to be one of those sex encounters that would stay in my mind forever. I wanted it to last but I also was giving in to the urgency of passion, I was totally surrendering myself to this man.

Because I knew that he knew what he was doing, I just let him take the lead. He was providing me with the greatest degree of pleasure as he was making expert love to me.

Carl’s overwhelming physique was not all there was to him. He also smelled like a man. I could not help but look at the armpits and go after them again, such was the scent of man that just kept me coming back.

Then there was his pubic region. The way the little tufts of hair, black and curly framed the gigantic dick was too much to ignore. The balls were hanging so low, almost independent of the rest of him self contained in these flexible hanging sacs.

I went to lick them and was able to take one into my mouth while the brother testicle just fell to the side a considerable distance. His balls were that abundant and unique.

But if these were tasty and big, Carl’s cock was the cock to end all cocks. It was extra large, bigger than mine, surpassing me by at least two inches and the girth as well. This cock is what we commonly call a donkey dick.

Even when flaccid it hung a good 8 inches and it dangled and swung. When it got hard it appeared as if Carl had a third leg. It was almost the size of his forearm in thickness and just as long.

I looked at Carl’s hands and they were big. I looked at this dude’s feet and they were like row boats, then I looked and confirmed that he had a big nose. No, he had a huge nose. You know what they say about that, and in Carl’s case it was true: big feet + big hands + big nose = big cock.

Carl finally made his move. He reached with his hand and started to massage my pucker. Then he introduced one finger, then two. Next thing I knew he had turned me around and was eating my ass.

I guess eating pussy all those years made Carl an expert ass eater. All I know is that with every lick of his tongue, followed by a small bite I was at the point that I wanted him to fuck me. I still held out, not saying anything until I finally blurted it out: “oh, oh, yes, eat my ass, oh, that is so good, ah, ah, fuck, yes, oh, fuck, fuck me, yes Carl, fuck me, I want you to fuck my ass”

Carl had worked my boy pussy to a state of relaxation in such a way that when his gigantic 13 inch cock penetrated me all I felt was a tickling sensation, no pain whatsoever. He was a little surprised I think because he said: “don’t worry, it will only hurt for the first minute or so”

But I told him that it didn’t hurt, to just ram it in. Carl did, very pleased that he could because when a dude is so well hung he has difficulty finding a bottom that could take the whole thing.

Watching him fuck me was in itself a trip. Carl was now sweating and I couldn’t be happier, because of his masculine scent and because he was just plowing my asshole. Such was the pleasure that I came not only once, but twice. The first load I wasn’t even touching myself, and the second it was because Carl was jerking me off. When I came the second time so did he. His exuberant moans were butch and like music to my ears. “ugh, ugh,awrh, awrh, awe, awe, oh, oh, shit, oh, oh, fuck, oh, your mother fucking ass is milking my cock, oh, awe, awe…you’re going to make me cum…aaaaaaaahgh, aaaaaaagh. Ohhh”

Carl would come and play tennis some mornings and we would end up in bed. I must say that the fucking was always as exciting as the first time. Then the hurricane came.

Hurricane Alicia, (August 18, 1983) Alicia was the first hurricane to strike the Continental USA since Allen in 1980. It was the longest period in this century that the U.S. mainland had gone without a hurricane landfall (though tropical storms did hit within that time). Alicia was a small- to medium-size hurricane. It reached a minimal Category 3 status as it hit land. The center of Alicia moved over the Texas coast about 25 miles southwest of Galveston on August 18. Aircraft observations indicated that only a 60 mile section of the coast, extending northeastward from Freeport, Texas, experienced hurricane force winds. Despite its small size, Alicia caused over $2.4 billion in damage (in 1990 dollars).

Carl’s house got totally trashed. As I said before he carried no insurance and the repairs ran more than $50,000. It would be a few months before he would be able to move back in. I asked him to stay with me in the meantime. I gave him the upstairs bedroom.

Carl was very methodical and extremely clean. He would pitch in and help whenever he could. He also ran around in these skimpy bikini underwear and it was eye candy for me. So many times we would end up fucking because he paraded in front of me and got me all turned on.