I am learning way too much about my friends’ sex lives on this trip. Who knew, when we set off, the four of us, that sex would even be a thing. I’m not attracted to any of these guys and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. Again, Mish doesn’t discriminate, but even he, I think, would draw the line with one of us. Unless someone else was involved, anyway, from what Liam has told me.
Somehow we got talking around the fire tonight about our strangest encounters. Somehow, Mish’s tentacled friend didn’t even make the cut. Maybe because he couldn’t see them. I’d say Quinn wins the contest. Sort of surprising. I wouldn’t have said Quinn was the most adventurous out of the four of us. He sort of stumbled into this one.
As he tells it, Quinn went out with some work friends to a bar, a new place. Not a gay bar, but friendly. He was there with work people, not trying to hook up, but a guy at the end of the bar kept looking him over. He wasn’t Quinn’s usual type. He goes for the geeky look with the lean bodies. This guy was big, broad, with a slightly unkempt beard. Dark hair, but light eyes. Green. They caught Quinn’s attention because they stood out in his sun-darkened skin. He was wearing worn jeans and a t-shirt that was tight across the guy’s shoulders and stomach because of his size, not because it was a clingy fabric. Quinn said it looked actually vintage, not just distressed.
When the work friends called it a night, one of them nudged Quinn and told him he should go say hello to the guy who had been checking him out all night. Quinn usually likes to vet his dates through friends or friends of friends, but this guy intrigued him – Mischa interrupted to say something crass about the guy’s dick being intriguing – Quinn shook his head, like he was trying to shake off sleepiness and glared at Mish.
Before Quinn could make a move, though, the guy came to him. His last friend said goodnight but Quinn barely heard because he was distracted. The guy asked to buy Quinn a drink but wasn’t put off when Quinn turned him down. He’d had all he wanted to already. The guy only smiled and held out his hand, instead. Quinn took it and the guy led him to the bar. He ordered Quinn a water and himself a beer. Quinn settled onto the stool next took him and they made small talk for however long it took him to finish his beer. Quinn wasn’t sure what they talked about, but he remembers them laughing together. Which, humor is like catnip to my boy Quinn.
When he was done with his drink, he asked Quinn to go home with him. And this is where the story veers into the unusual, at least for Quinn. Mish? No doubt he’d leave with the guy, though they might not make it all the way home. But Quinn said yes and went with him. I sort of remember the night because Quinn texted me an address and said he’d call me or text me later. So he wasn’t completely insensible.
The guy walked him to his place and Quinn went up to his apartment. He said it was simply furnished, a little sparse but clean, which he approved of. And they talked for a while longer before Quinn kissed him.
They stripped in the living room but made it to the bedroom where Quinn found himself stretched across a big bed with lots of blankets and pillows. He joked about feeling like he was in some kind of nest or cave, but the guy was good to him and they settled in, Quinn on his hands and knees but with lots of pillows supporting him, which apparently he needed because he, and I quote, “fucked the marrow from his bones.” I guess that’s a good thing?
Quinn said he’d come twice and was slowly moving toward a third when the guy finally started to reach his peak, but when he did, Quinn said it felt like he added some kind of toy or something. He was too blissed out to be able to turn and look, but suddenly he was stuffed so full it was like the guy couldn’t even move, just sort of pulse. If he hadn’t been so well-fucked, Quinn said he would have been uncomfortable, but instead it kicked him into his third orgasm of the night. He said the guy howled as he came.
The weird part… Quinn tried to pull away to get out of the wet spot, maybe turn over for a cuddle, if the guy would allow it, but he couldn’t. He was stuck. The guy’s dick was actually stuck inside him. The guy groaned when Quinn tried to move. He said he couldn’t help but squirm. It was a really strange feeling. Not painful, exactly, but he was feeling a little trapped.
The guy apologized, said sometimes that happened, but if Quinn would stop squirming and just hold still, the swelling would go down on its own in a couple of minutes. Quinn said it was way more than a couple of minutes, but the guy was sweet, petting his back and complimenting him.
Finally the guy’s dick deflated enough that they could separate. Quinn ended up staying the night. They exchanged numbers and they’ve texted a little, but he hadn’t gone out with him again. Quinn blushed at that, but not the story, so I wonder if he actually likes this guy with his incredible inflating cock. Because the thing was, there was no toy. It was all him.
Now I’m wondering, if I met this guy, what would I see?