Salads
- 3 years ago
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Salad Dressing free porn video
At the age of eighteen I got involved with Pierre, a man almost twice my age. Given the history of his former relationships I should have seen the writing on the wall, because by the time I was twenty-six, I had become too old for him. I was replaced by a nineteen-year-old, who was twenty-three-years younger than Pierre. Pierre only liked young meat. The bust-up was disappointing but not particularly traumatic, and my generous settlement assuaged my disenchantment.
I moved to a small town where I opened my own business, a gift shop. The shop was conveniently located on the ground level of the apartment block I resided in.
A few months later the business was doing rather well. I paid special attention to packaging, and gifts always left my store beautifully wrapped. It was a minor detail, which was appreciated by the locals, all of whom supported my business very well.
A short way down from my business on the opposite side of the road there was a pleasant pub, which I regularly frequented. Most nights I would simply have a drink or two, but on Thursday evenings, fish and fries night, I would always allow myself a weekly indulgence of unhealthy fried food. Fortunately, there was always someone interesting to chat with at the pub.
On a Thursday evening after I received my food, a really hunky looking guy entered the pub and sat around the corner from me at the L-shaped bar counter. After asking about the special of the night, the barman informed him about the fish and fries special. He presently placed his order with a side salad, like I had done. The stranger had a handsome but rather serious facial expression, and so I refrained from the usual chitchat.
When his food arrived several minutes later, he asked for salad dressing. Next, the bottle that was before me was relocated and placed before him. After picking up the container he began to shake it vigorously, splashing salad oil all over his shirt.
‘Oh fuck,’ I thought, I hadn’t popped the lid shut properly.
The barman immediately supplied ‘Hunky’ with a handful of serviettes, before accusingly turning to me and saying, “I wonder who forgot to close the lid.”
I began apologizing profusely, and for the first time a smile broke out on Hunky’s face. “It’s my own fault,” he said. “I should have made sure the lid was closed.”
“May I at least buy you another beer in recompense,” I offered.
“No, I’m driving,” he replied. “But maybe next time,” he concluded, in a friendly fashion.
“I’m Francis,” I said, embarrassingly introducing myself.
“I’m Jarrod,” he replied.
“Is that with one or two R’s?” I enquired.
“Two… why do you ask?” he questioned.
“Oh, it’s just a hobby I have. I write stories and am always on the lookout for different names to use,” I answered.
“What do you write?” he asked.
“Oh, just short stories. I am not a professional writer and it’s just a hobby,” I replied, shrugging noncommittally.
After a few more pleasantries I excused myself, and as I was leaving I gave my business a plug; “By the way, I own the gift shop diagonally across the road. If you are ever in need of a gift, I promise you a good discount to make up for the shirt,” I concluded sheepishly.
Upon arriving home I opened my computer. Several months before I had come across a gay website that published pornographic short stories. A month or so later, figuring what the hell, I decided to give writing a go. I always had free time to do so during the day when the shop wasn’t busy, or at night when the urge arose.
I immediately began to write a new story entitled, ‘Salad Dressing.’ Cheekily, I even used the names Jarrod and Francis in my story. In my tale, however, the characters did not part company at the bar, and a night of sexual bliss ensued.
The following day after a final edit, I submitted my story to a website called; Gaydemon, and I was elated when it appeared a day later.
Two weeks thereafter, just before closing time a hunky man walked into my store. It took me a few seconds before I realized that it was Jarrod, the ‘salad dressing’ guy. Jarrod then walked around the store complimenting me about the stock that I had on offer.
After a short while, he asked, “Where do you publish your stories?”
“Excuse me?” I queried.
“Your short stories… do you publish them anywhere?” he enquired.
“Ummm… well… actually…” I uncomfortably babbled before he interrupted me.
“Don’t be so shy. I’d like to read them,” he said.
I did not answer and hoped like hell he would forget the subject, but he persevered. “I must tell you about a site I really like. About ten days ago I read a really good story entitled: Salad Dressing, by an author named FJB. The site is called Gaydemon, maybe you’ve heard of it?” he questioned.
Forlorn and resembling a bright red tomato, I looked at Jarrod apologetically before he began to laugh.
“You write very well Francis,” he said, with an impish look on his face. “I feel honoured to have been immortalized in literature.”
After a brief silence, he continued, “The only problem is that I can’t remember the last two-thirds of the story.”
I stood like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Are you up for fish and fries?” he then asked, nonchalantly.
A short while later we were seated at the pub, swapping life stories.
I spoke first and then Jarrod followed; he was thirty-two and had formerly been married. After a year of matrimony he realized that although bisexual, his preference actually lay with men. Fortunately, as he put it, the union had not borne any fruit. Jarrod was the winemaker on an estate located about thirty miles away, and was not in a current relationship.
After dinner, he asked if I was keen to find out if the real Jarrod lived up to the fictional one. I smiled naughtily, and playfully replied that having messed up his shirt I really didn’t have an option.
“Wow, I have never felt so desired in my life,” he exclaimed, before we both began to laugh.
After entering my apartment with a bottle of wine that he had brought along, he poured us each a glass of the red wine, which was excellent!
Jarrod had a great sense of humour that contrasted sharply with the serious man I had encountered two weeks before, and when he told me that he had the names of a few kindergartens that I should pass on to my ex, I almost convulsed with laughter.
A short while later Jarrod invited me to sit next to him on the sofa. His kissing was gentle and tender and when we moved through to the bedroom, we sensually assisted one another undressing. Once naked, I realized that an edit to my story would have to be made. In my story Jarrod was cut and of average endowment. The real Jarrod was well above average and uncut.
Once on my bed, Jarrod moved over my body and continued kissing me. He was a great kisser and there was absolutely nothing rushed about his approach. Jarrod’s mouth then began to explore my body.
First, my nipples were focussed upon before my torso was investigated by his prowling lips. My cock became the next focus of his marauding mouth. I shuddered as he swallowed my dick, encircling it with his lively tongue. Alternating between my cock and balls, he suckled like a hungry lamb. Unable to hold back for too long and twitching in rapture, my milk sprayed into his ravenous mouth. Jarrod groaned with approval as he accepted my excitement.
After returning to my lips we feasted together, before Jarrod turned my body over. After suctioning onto my manhole he began to lubricate my gateway with his insistent tongue. He was a master of anal stimulation, and I again I realized that more edits would be required to compensate for my storytelling inadequacies. As I writhed in ecstasy, I begged him to enter me because I had to have his cock inside me!
As he closed over my body I could hardly wait for his entry, with my hole itching in anticipation.
“Stick it in, for fuck sake, stick it in,” I begged. His infiltration was firm, but the slight discomfort didn’t alter my pleasure in the slightest. I revelled in his knob’s displacement in my backside because his knob was fucking huge!
‘Oh fuck,’ I thought, never mind edits, I was going to have to rewrite my entire story.
As Jarrod humped into me I was afraid I was going to tear the cover off my mattress. On, and on, Jarrod rocked, stimulating me as never before and I wanted this blissful encounter to perpetuate for a lifetime.
“Are you enjoying my cock, baby?” he grunted, as string of fuck yeah’s flowed from my lips. As expletives also began pouring from Jarrod’s lips he began upping his tempo, really hammering into me. When he finally unloaded into me, we both grunted in unison. We did not move for a long while afterward, and I had been more comprehensively fucked than ever before.
After our session, Jarrod explained that he would have to love and leave me. There was a particular blend of wine that he was concerned about, which he needed to check upon before going to bed. He did, however, ask if he could take me to dinner the following Thursday, promising to definitely stay over on that occasion.
“How did the real Jarrod compare?” he asked as he left.
“Watch for the edited version,” I informed him.
“When should I check?” he inquired.
“In two days’ time,” I replied.
That Sunday, I received an SMS stating; ‘Well done, this was a great improvement.’
Alma
- 21.04.2021
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- Category:
- Gay Male
