Monday, February 1, 2016

The Trip of Small Cocks: Couchsurfing Host #1

This is not one of my old posts, but one by Pervertically Virtuous
In the process of recovering my own old posts via email I discovered some of hers. Like me, her old accounts have been terminated, and she seems to have disappeared from the internet. This is a damn shame since I consider her one of the best sex bloggers I've ever had the chance to read and follow. I'm reposting her old posts as a historical archive, and if she ever returns to blogging I'm happy to hand them back to her. 
To be clear: the copyright on this work is hers, and remains with her - I didn't write it and I make no claim to it. (FYI: some links in this post are dead)

Pervertically Virtuous posted: "My most recent professional trip took me to the West Coast. As I usually do, I decided to arrive a day early and stay a day late to check out the new city I had never been to. And, as I usually do, I decided to couchsurf. Couchsurfing for conferences is "

recovered post on Pervertically Virtuous

The Trip of Small Cocks: Couchsurfing Host #1

by Pervertically Virtuous
small_cock_Latino
(stock photo, not person described)
My most recent professional trip took me to the West Coast. As I usually do, I decided to arrive a day early and stay a day late to check out the new city I had never been to. And, as I usually do, I decided to couchsurf.
Couchsurfing for conferences is not necessarily the best set-up: Most people are staying at the conference hotel and it can be both inconvenient and socially isolating to be staying elsewhere. But I'm so averse to paying for hotels and so enjoy couchsurfing, that I still do it. At least, having learned my lesson in my early days, these days I look for hosts relatively close to the hotel, a 15-min or less walk or bike ride away.
Going, as usual, for combining couchsurfing with cocksurfing (thanks Hyacinth for the word), I found the cutest guy I could in a 15-min-biking radius of the conference hotel. He wasn't super hot, but lived in a nice apartment complex close to the hotel, had a bike for me to use, and, based on his photos, was fuckable. Probably near the lower limit of fuckable, but fuckable nonetheless. Five days before my trip, he told me an unexpected trip came up and I could only stay with him for the first three days of my stay. I was in the midst of chaos right before my trip, and also, moving places in the middle of my conference was going to be a pain in the ass and I wanted to avoid that. So instead of looking for an alternative, I decided to take a chance and rely on my charm. 'Once he sees me and plays with me, there's no way he wouldn't let me stay there while he was away' I thought to myself. It's certainly happened before. And if it didn't work, I was gonna figure something else out.
The night I arrived, he picked me up from the airport after his late-night soccer game, still in his gear and with a couple of cuts and scratches on his legs. He was a couple of years younger, a master's student from Mexico, cute face, but a few inches shorter than me. He didn't have any extra pounds, though despite playing sports five times a week (including soccer, tennis, and basketball), he didn't have a 6-pack or a super hard body. As I had predicted, he was on the lower border of fuckable.
We went back to his place, a small one-bedroom apartment in an apartment complex that also included a gym, a pool, and a hot tub. After my long flight and his rough soccer game, the hot tub sounded really good to both of us. We got to the pool area downstairs, only to realize they locked it after 10 PM. Undeterred, we jumped over the 6-foot fence and into the warm, bubbling water. It was very relaxing. We sat close to each other in the large, 15-people tub, and I was wondering whether to take things to the next level.
He was being flirtatious, but cautiously so. Fucking in the hot tub surrounded by about a hundred of apartments and potentially many curious eyes was very appealing. But it was 3 AM for me and I was actually really exhausted. I was also not that attracted to him that I couldn't resist. I knew it was going to happen, but I thought maybe I could push it back a day. So I didn't make a direct move, nor did I give him a clear sign that it was OK for him to make one.
After 30-40 minutes, we went back upstairs. I had the choice between the narrow and not-too-comfy-looking sofa in the living room and his queen size bed in the bedroom. I didn't hesitate to ask to sleep in his bed, and he didn't hesitate to agree. The minute we got in bed, our bodies touched and we started making out. I was really really tired, so I offered to give him a blowjob and leave the rest for the morning. In a sense, I was investing in my future, here. He seemed OK with that. I pulled down his pajamas and was greeted by the first of four small cocks for my 6-day-long trip.
After a decent amount of work (more than I expected), he came in my mouth and I promptly passed out. The next morning I was woken up by his stiff cock poking my ass through my thin, see-through night gown. He was on top of me before I was even fully awake. It was kinda hot. He fucked fast and furious. I came a few times before he did.
He went to class and I went for a nice long swim in the pool. This was going to be fun, I thought.
And it was. For three days, I went for an early-morning swim, explored the city with him, biked to the conference and back, to the beach and back. In the middle of day three, a few minutes before I was to give my presentation, I got a text from him saying that, after much thinking, he could not let me stay in his place while he was gone. The following morning, on his way to the airport, he would drop me off wherever I needed to go.
I couldn't believe it. I called and practically begged him to reconsider, but he wouldn't. There was no explanation why, he just wouldn't do it. I was livid. Of course, he had every right to do it, but it was highly inconvenient for me, and I'm not used to not getting what I want. (And yes, I realize I'm spoiled.)
I came home late that evening and didn't say a word to my host beyond "hello". I packed up my things and went to sleep as far from him as I possibly could in that bed. My fall-back plan was my gay colleague and best friend who was staying at a cheap hotel (not the conference hotel) nearby.
In the morning, I woke up really early and went for one last morning swim. In the elevator with me was a tall, sexy black guy in his gym clothes, his big arms bulging out, clearly on his way to the gym.
"How you doing this morning?" he started the conversation.
"Pretty good, on my way to the pool," I said. "You?"
"Gym," he nodded. "Gotta stay healthy, right?"
"Gotta keep those lovely arms big and strong, too," I took it up a notch. We didn't have too much time.
We walked out of the elevator and I couldn't help but touch his arms. They were hard as rocks. A tingling sensation started in my chest and snaked down all the way to my thighs.
"You don't swim?" I asked.
"Nah, my people don't swim," he laughed.
I laughed back as we reached the point where are paths diverged: The pool and the gym were just opposite one another. But then I realized I didn't bring the key to the pool area. He was just about to walk into the gym, so I ran up to him, grabbed his arm, and asked if he could let me in. He responded by putting his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
"You are so sexy," he whispered.
"You are too," I returned the compliment and kissed him, pushing him back against the door to the gym. I pressed my entire, almost naked body (except for the swimsuit), against his and could feel his erection almost immediately. I ran my hands across his 6-packed torso then his crotch giving his cock a little squeeze. He was not impressively big, but not nearly as small as my current host.
A (somewhat crazy) thought started forming in my head that could potentially solve all my hosting woes while adding some extra excitement to my trip.
"I have an idea," I said. "Do you live here?"
He nodded.
"Would you like a guest for the next two evenings? My friend who I'm staying with is leaving town and I can't stay with him anymore."
"Oh, damn. I would love to, but I can't," he said, clearly disappointed. "I don't live alone, if you know what I mean."
"I got it. Too bad..."
"Give me your number and I'll come meet you wherever you are," he offered.
"It's not gonna work, it'd be too complicated," I said, as it really would've been. "I guess you I should go for that swim now."
"OK, get in," he said as he unlocked the door to the pool area. "Quick before anyone sees me near the pool, they'll take away my Black people's card."
I laughed out loud, gave him one last kiss, and jumped in the pool.
40-min later I was done with my swim, and I walked by the gym looking for him. He wasn't there. I went back upstairs. My host drove me to my friend's hotel where I dropped off my stuff, picked up my friend, and my host generously drove both of us to the conference. Still angry at him, I barely managed the decency to hug him goodbye and thank him for everything.
This trip was going to be more adventurous than I thought, and I was actually OK with it.
Stay tuned for Part 2.
Pervertically Virtuous | February 1, 2014 at 1:54 pm | URL: http://wp.me/p3F90k-xD

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