As a gay man, it is always known that there is some "risk" involved when someone wants to ride the Hershey highway. This story from a few years ago always haunts me back when I begun being a pretentious slut. I was browsing the guys on more then one app looking for someone to have some fun with. Bingo, my eyes found the perfect man. After hitting it off on the app, we decided to meet and go out for a drink.
Once this was done I was on my way to town. Meeting up with him, he was one of those rare specimens that are actually better looking in person then they are in photos. I thought to myself that I had scored. From here, all the slightly boring small talk turned into more drunken chat which ended up with him asking me if I wanted to go back to his place. I willingly accepted and we were on our way.
After a few more drinks we decided to go to bed and finally I got to see this beauty in all its glory. Of course he was hung like a horse, as well as looking like a God. Boy I was in for a good time. After him sliding it in, with me sitting on top, we got going. It was amazing, potentially the best sex I have ever had... until the smell came, the smell of regret, the smell of the butt truffles. It was horrid. The smell wafted around the room and I instantly went silent and stopped. Embarrassingly, I had to get off, clenching my butthole as hard as I could, hoping that there was nothing, but expecting the worst. It was the worst. Soft serve. Although it wasn't everywhere, it was on him. He quickly ran to the bathroom and cleaned it off with me directly behind him doing the exact same thing. Luckily for me, he wasn't that mad and said a saying that will always stick with me. "It comes with the territory of being gay." However from now I always rigorously clean out the junk in the trunk before having sex, and we actually ended up seeing each other for a few months which was great because dick in this town is few and far between.
- A power bottom