The Security Guard

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Gay men are always complaining about being discriminated against, and I do sympathise, but they are not above a bit of discrimination themselves. For many in their world it is a crime to be fat. And I couldn’t disagree more.

For me there is nothing more exciting than being in a clinch with a fat man. Call them chubs if you like, but I like my men just plain fat. Anything from considerably overweight to obese. There is nothing like being in bed with a substantial hunk of maleness. Bears, of course, come into this category, but here I want to sing the praises of a big, smooth-skinned white guy I met last year.

Bob was a security guard who worked in the mall, and at first I didn’t notice him. But once when I dropped a handful of change on the floor he came over and helped me retrieve it. We were both on our hands and knees and when our hips touched it sent a shock of lust through me. Neither of us leapt apart, as you do when the touch is accidental and you don’t want the other to get the wrong idea. We had touched by accident but I liked it and presumably so did he.

After that we started saying hello when we met, and I was visiting the mall more often then was strictly necessary. I like the way Bob filled his shirt with that big stomach, and the rakish angle his trousers hung at below his gut.

Then one evening I was in a local bar. I’d just popped in for a quick drink on my way home. Bob was sitting in a corner looking at his phone, so I went and sat by him. We made small talk about the bars around there and then sport. There was a football match on that night (soccer, if you must) and the bar wasn’t showing it. Bob said he had satellite at home, which was nearby, and invited me to watch it with him.

I was honestly thinking about the football, not the company, and we breezed in his place casually enough. We sat on the sofa and watched the first half, and at half alsancak escort time Bob turned the sound down. He looked at me with that look that communicates more in vibrations than in vision. I looked back at him and it suddenly dawned on me that this could be a seriously fun evening.

Bob put his arm around my neck and pulled me towards him and we kissed. I was kissing his smooth fat face and his eager tongue was in my mouth. His free hand found my thigh and he squeezed it with the sort of masculine flourish that straight men use in a matey way, but when I put my hand on his leg he moved his big beefy grip up to my crotch. He felt my lumps and with the back of his knuckles he stroked my emerging erection.

Then he sat up , stretched and unzipped his flies. He rummaged around in his underpants and pulled out his complete package: balls and all. I glanced down at his cock, which was large and hard and nicely shaped. It doesn’t really matter how ‘characterful’ a cock is: gnarly, bent, menacing are all fine, but Bob had a beautiful penis. It was symmetrical, straight, perpendicular and generally photogenic.

Naturally I couldn’t resist his unspoken request, and my head dutifully descended into his lap and I sucked the fat guy’s cock. While I was enjoying that, my mouth filling with saliva as I devoured him, he was scrabbling at my jeans. This time it was my turn to sit up and make my goods available.

Bob’s big, fleshy hand took my knob and squeezed it gently, then began massaging my shaft.

“Let’s go to bed,” he whispered, inviting me to my feet and I followed him into his bedroom. It was dark, the curtains closed, and the sheets were black and silky. We stood by the bed and kissed and Bob undressed me. When it came to my lower half he dropped to his knees, pulled my things off, but left my socks on, and sucked me.

His altıeylül escort hands worked their way around to my arse and he squeezed my buttocks, then gave them a hefty spank. And another.

“Sorry,” he said. “You like that?”

Nobody had ever spanked me before and I wasn’t sure. He seemed to understand. He spun me round and bent me over and kissed my buttocks gently. Then the kissing turned to licking, bit dirty licks full of mischief, and finally his tongue was in my crack.

Bob licked my arse with strength and skill. His tongue was as muscular as his arms and legs, and he left my hole in no doubt as to his intentions.

Then he turned me around and pushed me back on the bed. I lay back and waited and to my nervous delight he lay on top of me. The sheer bulk of the man was intoxicating. I felt his stomach all over mine, his meaty thighs on mine, then slipping in between until his cock was prodding my balls.

Meanwhile, further up, Bob pinned me down with my arms above my head and kissed me rapaciously. That word sounds a bit like rape, doesn’t it? And in fact this felt a bit that way, because there was no way I could repel him, but I didn’t want to. Whatever he wanted to do was fine with me.

And what he wanted to do was penetrate me. He reached into a bedside cabinet and took out a tube of lubricant, squeezed a load onto his fingers and smeared it into my crack. Then some more onto his fingers and transferred to the head of his cock.

Preparations made, he put his hands below my bottom and lifted me. I instinctively raised my legs and instantly I was in position for him to fuck. He pressed his bulk against me and his cock plunged unapologetically into my anus. I was assaulted by a mixture of sensations and emotions. Pain, pleasure and a masochistic desire for more flooded my brain and melted my insides.

Bob altınordu escort pumped into me, his beautiful penis hidden from view as it rammed my depths. He grunted as he leaned down.

“Okay?” he whispered and kissed me. I kissed him back and the silent language of love and lust told him all he needed to know.

Bob ploughed me face to face, then he slipped out abruptly and turned me over. He lifted one leg so his foot was beside my hip and he was above me, then plunged his cock back into my desperate hole. He fucked me for a while like that before changing his mind again.

Without a word he had me on my feet by the bed and turned me around, pushed me to bend over and he fucked me standing up. I was enraptured by his sexual mastery, his confidence and the sheer solid, hard presence of his cock inside me. He pushed deeper and deeper and I was starting to feel I might come.

Then he withdrew again and forced me to my knees on the floor.

He knelt behind me and masturbated, and when he came, squirting his spunk onto my back and into my crack, he growled and said, “Fuck, yeah.”

The feeling of his semen in my arse drove me over the edge and I came in helpless torrents on the carpet.

But Bob wasn’t finished. We climbed back onto the bed and as he lay on top of me again, my erection returned. He clambered above me, turned around and sat his arsehole on my face. As he ground his musky essence onto my nose I licked him as best I could. Then he rearranged us again so he was kneeling and I was behind him.

‘Lick my arse,’ he commanded, and I did so gratefully and for ages. I must have licked his arse for ten minutes before he growled again and freed himself, laying me on my back and crouching above me as he began to wank. He launched his semen onto my face and I opened my mouth to take what I could get. As he hissed to a halt like a steam train I sucked his cock clean.

All I could think was that I wanted to do it again, every night and if possible every day.

“I’ll wipe you up, he said kindly, and, picking up his underpants from the floor, he wiped my face with them. I took them from him and pressed them to my nose. I wanted them as a souvenir.

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