I Know… I Haven’t Posted In Such A Long Time…

So here are the excuses:

School — Kickin’ my ass. 

This next post I’m supposed to be working on — very hard to write, because it basically involves the best sex I ever had. Yeah. Seriously. Ever. (Every time I start to write it, I get hard and have to jerk off… which kinda interferes with the writing.)

Lazy — yeah, of course there’s that.

Adopting a puppy — NO, NOT A HUMAN PUPPY, an actual canine animal doggie puppy. My bf and I pick him up tomorrow morning from the shelter.

So… while I work on these next chapters (believe me, trust your puppy… the wait is worth it… I’ve NEVER had a sexual experience like the one I need to write out for you…), check out a new blog: notverysexy.blogspot.com… Rob has only done one post so far, but I’m loving what I’m reading…

Your Faithful Puppy…

Maxx

Chapter 20: “Spider!”

Yeah, Jeff’s puppy was definitely ready for more.

Jeff roughly turned me over onto my stomach, and  this time I knew better than to raise my ass off the bed for him. Jeff rubbered up, moved my hands to the headboard (“hang on, Pup…”), shoved my face down hard into the mattress, and pushed his dick into me in one thrust. From committed top to eager bottom in the space of an hour. Well, at least eager to bottom for Jeff, that is.

As he fucked me, Jeff’s lips were back at my ear. “Good boy. That’s my good puppy. You like that boy?”

God yes. There was this rhythm to it… Jeff’s words in my ear, Jeff’s thrusts into me, my ass rising ever-so-slightly off the bed to get him deeper inside.

The next thing I knew, Jeff was perpendicular to me… still fucking me, never breaking the rhythm, but the hard upcurve of his dick was definitely finding new territory in my ass. I gotta say… I didn’t know what the hell was going on. Jeff still had the side of my head pressed down hard into the bed, but with one eye I could see that his body was at a right angle to mine. He saw the look on my face (panic? wonder?)… and I got the grin. If there was any panic, the grin erased it. But in that grin was a tacit command – “We’re not done yet. Trust me.”

And, after fucking me sideways for a couple minutes, Jeff continued his rotation.

“Oh… my… god… what the… hell… are you … doing?”

By this point, Jeff’s feet were on either side of my head; he’d made a full 180 degree turn in my ass. And knowing the anatomy of his wickedly upturned dick… well, I just couldn’t even begin to conceive the physical nature of what was going on inside me. But somehow, someway… I was accommodating it. Oh c’mon, let’s be honest… I was fucking LOVING it.

Remember how I said that I really didn’t get the whole foot thing? Like, why would anybody ever want to put a dude’s foot in their mouth? Well, lemme tell ya… Jeff’s feet were right there, next to my head, and you KNOW they went in my mouth. First one, then the other. And based on the amplified grunting it elicited, I was guessing that was the right thing to do.

Over the next couple minutes, Jeff completed his rotation, and his head made it back to my ear, still fucking me the whole time.

“What… the fuck… was that?…”

“Did my Pup like that?”

“God… yes…”

And, as he announced it… he did it again… a full 180 turn while deep in my ass…

“Spider!”

“Spi… der?…”

I heard his voice from down near my feet… “Think of seeing it from above… one body, 8 legs…. “

Jeff completed the 360, came back to my ear, and murmured…

“Now I want you to cum for me Pup….”

Cum?!

It hadn’t even crossed my mind. So here we were again… just like when Jeff fucked me in the basement. But this time I didn’t have the e-stim to blame it on. What the hell was going on here? Sex for me had always been about cumming. I mean, I was REALLY good at cumming. And it’s not like it wasn’t possible with Jeff… in fact, the very first time, in the stairwell, he’d gotten a face full of my load to prove it. (“FUCK YEAH!”).

He saw the look on my face and started laughing: “You’re not gonna be able to cum? What’s going on with you Pup?”  There was a little bit of taunting in his voice. Not bad, but enough to embarrass me. Not hard to do.

“I, um, I… I dunno… the last time I thought it was a side effect of the e-stim…”

Jeff pulled outta me, turned me over, and put his knees on either side of my head. His balls were hanging right down on my lips, right where they belonged. I was fucken HUNGRY for them. As Jeff jacked his dick, my mouth worked its way slowly behind his nuts… I was stretching my tongue as far as it could go. He got the idea; my pupDad’s a smart one.  And next thing I knew, he was lowering his ass onto my mouth.

Finally! My tongue where I’d wanted it from the beginning. From the first time I laid eyes on him at the Eagle. Pushing into his hole. Tasting him.

Then Jeff stood up over me, one hand on the wall over my head, the other furiously working his dick…and looked down at me with that piercing gaze (no grin, pure intensity) and just let it fly.

Massive gobs of his spunk hit my forehead, my chin, my cheek… and yes, Gentle Readers… you can fucken BET I opened my mouth wide for him. 

Jeff left about 3am. Here’s the email I sent him the next morning…

so the sheets are changed and all the evidence is removed — well, at least physical evidence — i def can still feel the results of the activities last nite (and not in a bad way, at all.) i woke up this AM with a killer hardon (duh) and came in about 30 secs thinking about you fucking me against the armoire… at least it’s not impotence lol — i’m now going on the theory that with the fucking, my body is under the impression that it’s already cum…

you know my thing for lists…so here’s a list i have going in my head… 

Parts of Jeff I Particularly Like:

ears — you knew that, but i forgot to take one for safekeeping before you hopped on your bike. you have the best ears ever.

piss slit — i know, kind of a strange thing to focus on. but somehow the tip of my tongue just fits perfectly in it. (ok, writing that got me hard.)

armpits — the smell, the taste, how you squirm just a bit when i lick them. you’re spectacularly beautiful to begin with… but when you raise your lef arm above your head and expose ur pit… no words to describe it. now we have to see if it works the same way with the left one.

lips — yeah, now we’re in more standard territory. it occurred to me when you were showing me spot #4, roof of the mouth, then running your fingers wet with my saliva over my lips. so last nite, running the tip of my tongue over you lips… perfection.

spit — i’m not sure if it counts as a “part”… maybe i should make a list of fluids i like of yours? and then a list of positions i like u to fuck me in (SPIDER!)

ok, i just had to get that out. you know i’m only following your instructions, right?   

Remember…… “Your instructions: Do not chill. Hope you read that right, pupdog. To repeat: do not chill. I like you all fired up.”  

it’s a good thing, b/c i’m really really bad at “chill” — i mean, i could do it if you told me to, but i’d probably have a heart attack trying to be calm…

can’t wait for more.

Your Puppy.

Brief (Clarifying) Update…

I got the following very sweet message from a loyal reader, and it made me think that I may be leading some of you astray with my posts:

if u are so obsessed with jeff, why wouldn’t u leave your bf for him, so is it just a sexual obsession and not love? is jeff obsessed with u too? i wish jeff could love u, i wish u two could be a couple, but i guess i will have to take what i get for now, the sexual part alone. u two would make an awesome couple. 

I can’t answer how this works for Jeff. I mean, I have a sense, but I wouldn’t presume to speak for him. On my part… I compartmentalize really well. Always have. No question… the sexual obsession stuff can bleed over into and masquerade as emotional connection. Sure, there was a bit of that, particularly at the beginning. But I knew, even as I was experiencing it, what it was, and how to keep it in check.

And, it’s really really important to remember here… Jeff has a partner he’s been with a long time, and, as far as I can tell, they’re devoted to each other. I’m in a similar position (I was going to say “same,” but not exactly — cuz Jeff’s partner knows precisely what’s going on with me and Jeff. My bf knows too, but only much more recently… THAT’s a whole ‘nother story. Which maybe we’ll get to.) But yes, I’m completely in love with and devoted to my bf. When I don’t want to kill him, that is. No, even then.

So, I guess to answer the question directly about my feelings for Jeff — No, it’s not love. I LOVE the sexplay I’ve experienced with Jeff… and I’m completely awestruck and ecstatic that we’re becoming friends (not only is he a fucking SexGod, he’s a thoroughly good guy)… but, for me, there’s a natural and inevitable distinction between the sex stuff and the friends stuff. Cuz otherwise, this would get way too confusing, and this pup might lose his mind. And Gentle Readers… you really wouldn’t want that.

OK — I’m workin’ on a post for you all this weekend. So check back. The next installment, which will be a continuation of the fuck scene in my bedroom of course, is going to be called “Spider”… if anybody can guess what that is or what it refers to before I post… well, I’ll think of a special treat for them…

maxxthepuppy@yahoo.com

Brief (Nerdy) Update…

So I’m reading Lolita for school (and, Gentle Reader, if you HAVEN’T read it — step away from your computer right now, run out, buy it, and get to work… IMHO, it’s the greatest novel of the 20th Century… it will change your life) and it occurs to me that, despite the disturbing nature of the relationship between 37 year old Humbert Humbert and 12 year old Lolita, it evokes the intense quality of masculine sexual desire more brilliantly than anything else I’ve ever read. 

Forgetting that we’re talking about a middle aged protagonist and his pre-adolescent love object… check this out:

My only grudge against nature was that I could not turn my Lolita inside out and apply voracious lips to her young matrix, her unknown heart, her nacreous liver, the sea-grapes of her lungs, her comely twin kidneys.

There you have it. Obsession. Need. Mania. The knife’s edge of sex. The fundamental impulse of fucking.

My only question is… is this a description of what Jeff would like to do to me? What I would like him to do to me? What I would like to do to him? All of the above? (I can only hope.)

Another chapter coming soon. Your puppy Maxx promises you.

Chapter 19: “Now I Know What It Means To Get Fucked”

Sorry everybody for such a long pause between postings. School stuff interfering with my blogging. I’ll try to be better about it.

If you’ve been following this blog at all, you know that the chapter headings are typically Jeff’s words, not mine. I’m making an exception to that very clever rule for just for this entry…  So where were we? Oh yes…

Jeff looked down at me, worshiping his dick, and said, “OK pup… it’s time.” He reached over to the table beside the bed, grabbed a condom and wrapped his dick, then slathered on some lube; with what was left on his fingers, he slicked up my hole. I raised my legs, thinking he wanted me on my back… but he shook his head (like a pitcher shaking off the catcher’s call). He turned me over onto my stomach, and I instinctively raised my ass up towards his crotch. Nope — wrong again. He bent over me, putting his lips next to my ear, and I heard him say, “I want you flat down on the bed… so when I push into you, you can’t pull away from my dick…” Oh god.

I did as I was told — pressed my chin, chest, stomach, and dick against the mattress. Jeff spread my legs open wider, and started playing with my ass. I felt his forefinger go into me, then it was replaced by his thumb, then it was his forefinger and middle finger together. Every once in a while I’d feel his weight on top of me, his lips finding my ear again, and hear, “You like that pup? You want that?”  The answer was yes.Yes. YES. This was new, this wanting, this NEEDING to get fucked. The fingers were an excruciating tease… it was his dick that I had to have. This state of wanting and needing obliterated any previous anxiety I’d had about pain. If anything, I WANTED the pain — pain would have to be better than this unfulfilled anticipation. 

Jeff slid a bottle of poppers under my nose and said, “I know you want it now pup… but trust me, this will help.” I inhaled as much as I could, and then felt the head of Jeff’s dick push against my hole. There was no clenching up, there was no squirming away; there was just the headrush from the poppers and my eagerness to have him in me. The pressure increased, and I felt his cock slip inside. At the same time, Jeff took my wrists, brought them together behind my back, and held them tight with one of his hands. “Good puppy.” 

It’s hard for me to describe if pain was even a factor at this point. In some way, it’s as if my relationship to pain, at least in terms of the specifics of Jeff fucking me, had shifted. We’d been here before. As much as I’d almost always been a “top,” and, in the few times that I had been fucked, been put off by the discomfort of it, this was radically new. Discomfort became hunger. Playing with Jeff the week before had expanded my level of trust about the triangle of pupDad, pupDog, and pain; what I’d been thinking of as categorically physical was actually highly psychological. Pain was connected with fear. And whatever fear I still had — for what Jeff might do to me, for the physical sensations that I was going to go through — was completely overwhelmed by wanting to please him. To live up to “Good puppy” as best as I could.

Before I knew it, Jeff was fucking me. I mean, it sounds so simple, right? People do it all the time. Hell, I DO it TO people all the time. But somehow a barrier had come down in my head, and Jeff, my pupDad, is the one that got me there. 

None of this is to say that it didn’t hurt. I think it probably did. But all I remember is that, rather than trying to shrink away from the pounding of his dick in me, I was pushing my ass up into him as he pushed into me, wanting as much of him in me as I could get. This was crazy to me! I was getting fucked — and LOVING it!

Jeff knew I was ready for more, and flipped me over onto my back, put my ankles on his shoulders and roughly shoved himself back into me. Instinctively I groped for his ass, wanting to pull him in as far as he could go — but he was fucking me so hard and fast that he sure as hell wasn’t needing any help from me. Getting fucked in this position, watching his face as he tore in and out of me, was just too incredible. Complete sensory overload. And then he completely pushed me over the edge — he grabbed my right foot, the one that was resting on his left shoulder, and ran his tongue slowly across the underside of my toes while he fucked me. The sensation was completely electric… and then, to make it worse (better?), he slid his entire mouth over all five of my right toes. I went out of my mind.

Now, I’m just gonna be honest here. I’ve NEVER gotten into anything with feet. The foot thing had never made any sense to me. I know, there’s an entire community out there focused on the eroticism of the foot. And I had always entirely dismissed it. But let me just tell you — if Jeff’s mouth on my foot is ANY indication, the foot fetish community knows something very important that the rest of us have NO FUCKING CLUE about.

With all these sensations happening, I honestly didn’t think that it could get any more intense. (Well, that kind of implies that I was able to think… yeah, highly doubtful.) But suddenly I felt something new going on while he was fucking me — like I was gonna piss myself. “Oh god… Jeff… I’m gonna… piss…”  Jeff slowed a bit, but kept fucking, and grinned:

“HOT!”

That did it — I just cracked up. Lost it. Jeff’s ability to make me totally lose my shit in the middle of sex is just fucking uncanny. My GOD is he fun. He is the definition of “fun.” Look it up — you’ll see.

“Jeff… I’m serious… and there’s NO WAY that… I’m gonna pee all over… my own bed!…”

Jeff agreed to a little break, but told me he was pretty sure that I didn’t have to piss — that it was just sensations that I hadn’t felt before and that my body didn’t know how to process. Guess what? He was right. The pupDad is always right. Jeff followed me into the bathroom, and continued playing with my ass while I unsuccessfully tried to go. Yup. No need to pee. Tried very very hard, just to prove him wrong — and couldn’t. 

As we moved back into the bedroom, Jeff pushed me against the armoire and said, “This will be fine right here,” and suddenly pushed his dick back into me. Holy shit! I literally saw stars. The side of my face and my right shoulder were shoved against the wood; my hands were gripping the sides of the armoire; my legs were spread, and about to buckle underneath me; Jeff had one arm wrapped around my waist, holding me up, and the other pressed against my back holding me down. Because I had my head turned to the side, I had a partial view of his face while he fucked me: I’ve told you how fucking handsome he is, I’ve told you I love his grin, I’ve told you about the look he gets on his face that makes me crazy — but THIS, this look of utter intensity, was almost too much to bear. And in that moment, I knew I was his “good puppy.”

Eventually we took a break and lay down on the bed together to catch our breaths. As soon as the sex stopped, I got right back to that nervous place where I often find myself with him… the “speechless” place, like anything I say is gonna sound entirely idiotic. But I had to tell him… 

“Jeff? You know how I said I’d only been fucked five times before you?”

“Yeah pup?”

“Well… I was wrong.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Jeff, I thought I’d been fucked. But ‘getting fucked,’ REALLY ‘getting fucked,’ is entirely different than having somebody put their dick in your ass.”

Jeff grinned. (God, that grin.)

“So, what I’m saying is… Now I know what it means to get fucked… What I’m saying is… You’re the first guy to ever fuck me.”

The grin stuck. Usually it’s just a flash. As much as I want to hold on to it, it’s typically a momentary gift. But this time, it stuck. And then Jeff grabbed my head, kissed me deeply, and said, low, into my ear, “So it sounds like my puppy is ready for more…”

 

Response to a reader…

Damien (DTNZ) commented: This is hot – but the fact that you are cheating on your boyf – kinda makes it really unhot. sorry – why are you cheating????

Well, no doubt about it, I WAS doing this behind his back. But relationships are weird things, ya know? My bf and I have been together a long long time, and no doubt will continue to be. I know he fucks around on the side from time to time; he knows that I do as well. We don’t talk about it; it’s just uncomfortable territory for us. (However fucked up that sounds. And is.) But “cheating” carries the implication that if my bf found out about it, he’d be shocked, upset, betrayed, etc. I don’t know if that’s the case at all.

But Damien… I encourage you to keep reading… cuz I actually end up telling my bf about (some) of what’s been up with Jeff… and, well, you’ll just have to see how all that turns out…

I really do appreciate your comments — but the only thing I’d say (and I’m trying NOT to be defensive) is just to be careful about judging anybody’s relationship… the same way you need to be careful about judging anybody’s kinks or perversions or fetishes. I made that exact mistake when I made a flip comment a while back about the whole puppy fetish thing (”I mean, finding your inner Jack Russell terrier? Uh huh. Right”)… which, as Jeff later pointed to out to me, was EXACTLY what some guys were into, and who the fuck am I to say that there’s anything wrong with that?

So my point is that everybody’s got different rules and understandings. What it looks like from the outside is often not what it is on the inside. What works for one person, or couple, or trio, or whatever, doesn’t work for everybody.

I’d love to hear thoughts from other readers…

Chapter 18: “So You’re A Little Ticklish, Huh Pup?”

So — Jeff’s first visit to my apartment was all about breaking me in as a bottom. Yeah, he’d fucked me on the floor of his friends’ basement the previous week. But when Jeff came over to my place, I experienced a whole ‘nother level. 

We left off last time with the two of us facing each other, next to the bed. Gentle reader, you have to try to understand the effect that this guy has on me. He pretty much leaves me speechless. Bereft of speech. At best, babbling like an idiot. Which is worse than speechless, just plain fucking embarrassing. It’s not an intimidation factor, or at least not exactly. And it’s not simply overwhelming attraction, although that certainly plays a role. It’s that his presence–in person, or even on the phone–seems to short circuit something in my head. My synapses stop firing. I’m like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Wide-eyed and frozen. I know, sounds really sexually appealing, right? Ugh. I gotta work on that…

Jeff said, “So how’s my puppy?” Due to the short circuiting in my brain, I’m not even sure I replied. I probably just blushed. That’s what happens. Luckily, the next thing I knew, he’d locked his mouth onto mine and was lowering me onto the bed with him on top of me. Good thing those arms were wrapped around me, cuz otherwise I’m afraid my body would have exploded on the spot…

As he kissed me, Jeff moved first one of my arms, then the other, above my head and gripped both my wrists in his left hand. I was pinned to the bed by the weight of his body and, in this position, my arms were pretty much useless. (And you gotta remember, the pupDad is pretty fucking strong.) He continued kissing me, and started exploring my chest, nipples, and armpits with his free right hand. Every once in a while he’d hit a spot that gave me that twinge of ticklishness. At first he didn’t concentrate on it… just moved on and kept exploring. I was kind of hoping he hadn’t noticed the little jumps he was getting whenever he found a particularly sensitive area. The same kind of jumps that my body had been giving when hooked up to the e-stim device the week before. But this was electricity right from Jeff’s fingers.

Uh huh — Jeff not notice. Yeah right. Nothing doing.

Not interrupting the kissing, Jeff switched the hand on my wrists to his right, and began exploring the other side of my body with his newly freed up left hand. Same routine. He pulled his mouth off of mine, looked at me with that fucking grin of his, and said, “so you’re a little ticklish, huh pup?” Shit.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh — You GUESS so? …  Well let’s be sure about it then…”

And suddenly I was in total fucking tickle agony. ARGGHHHHHH. A whole different version of breath control… because there was certainly no breathing going on, at least not on my part. And the harder I squirmed and tried to get away from him, the firmer he held me down.  Jeff was watching me struggle, and then, locked his mouth onto mine again. At this point my head just didn’t know WHAT the hell to concentrate on… getting away from Jeff’s fingers, or exploring Jeff’s fucking delicious mouth with my tongue. Complete brain-fuck. Agony/Ecstasy. Right on the knife’s edge, just where Jeff like me. The fucker.

Jeff pushed himself up so he was standing in front of me, undid the top button of his cargo shorts, and brought my face to his crotch. All that was exposed was his pubic hair and the top of his dick — I dove into it with my nose and mouth just like a good puppy. My hands were now behind my neck; Jeff was holding my wrists together and, at the same time, pushing my face into his groin. GOD did he smell good. Soap and sweat.  And, amazingly, the taste of his crotch exactly matched his smell. Yum. Maybe this is what it means to be a “puppy” — totally heightened senses.

I worked his fly open further with my mouth, trying to get to his dick. He was totally teasing me with it, of course. But I was nothing if not determined. When I finally got it free, everything that I love about Jeff’s cock and balls came rushing back to me. I mean seriously… it’s a beauty. Incredible, architectural upward curve. Large, very low-hanging nuts. And that piss slit… I don’t even know how to explain it. His piss slit is just perfect for the tip of my tongue (the way his dick, and the curve of it, is perfect for my throat). When I turn my head sideways, and push on his piss slit with the tip of my tongue, it opens just enough for me to taste what he’s got for me… piss, precum, whatever. I’ll take any or ALL of it. 

Then I moved down to his balls. Spectacular. Jeff doesn’t shave his sac, or, as far as I can tell, even trim it… but he’s got just the right amount of hair down there… totally sexy. I was taking one of his balls in my mouth at a time, trying to get both of ‘em, but I’m telling you… they’re really big. And then I got ‘em up on my face so I could get underneath and dig behind ‘em with my tongue. SWEET. I think all this snuffling around his balls got him going, cuz next thing I knew I was pushed back down onto the bed, and he was jacking his dick, standing over me,  looking at me intensely… And I just knew what was coming next.

He was gonna fuck my ass… and I really really wanted it.

Chapter 17: “God, I Can’t Wait To Be Mean To You Again.”

During that next week I’d been so excited by Jeff’s “Do Not Chill” email (were sweeter words ever written?) that I’d gone overboard and sent him a flood of responses: “OK, now my dick is so hard it hurts…“; “I just see ‘Jeff’ in my inbox and it’s like magic, insta-boner...”; etc. etc.

I was completely on overdrive, sending Jeff emails obsessively. And then my insecurity would get the best of me, completely freaking me out, so I’d send him another stream of messages telling him how embarrassed I was that I kept sending lame emails to him and then, of course, a whole ‘nother round of messages begging him to fuck me. Kind of like asking him to put me out of my misery, I guess. I told Jeff that I was “like David Sedaris licking light switches in ‘Naked’… total OCD… can’t help myself.” Which Jeff responded to with an email that still slays me. (Yes, just when you think sweeter words can’t be written, the universe taps you on the shoulder and proves they can). I don’t want to share the entire message he wrote, because that might ruin its special, intimate magic for me–it’s still the antidote that I turn to when I’m feeling strange about the whole me and Jeff dynamic, kind of like a magic talisman–but it ended with: “God, I can’t wait to be mean to you again.“

Holy shit, was he trying to give me a fucking coronary? Probably so. I have a sneaking well-founded suspicion that he really gets off on me squirming.

Well, we got the the chance for Jeff “to be mean to me again” a week to the day after the basement play. My bf was out of town, and Jeff confirmed for late, around midnight. Jeff didn’t know this at the time, but it was a first for me: I had never had anybody over to my apartment to fuck. And I didn’t know it at the time, but he was about to introduce me to some other significant firsts.

Jeff arrived right on time and called me as he locked up his bike outside my building. I came downstairs to meet him and found he was already waiting at the front desk. I said hello to John the doorman, who happens to be friendly with my bf, and tried to hustle Jeff out of the entryway as quickly as possible. It was just too weird… I mean, this ridiculously hot guy showing up at midnight (and not hiding his ridiculous hotness one bit in a tanktop and shorts, not that he could if he tried) to see me, and John the doorman thinking “Who the hell is this?And where’s Maxx’s bf?”  See what I mean… awkward.

So as Jeff and I headed up the elevator to my apartment, he turned to me and said, “You know, my name is Jeff…”

I looked at him blankly, and said “Uh huh?” 

“You called me John…” 

“What? When?”

“Just now… You said ‘Hi John’”

“OH! No, I said ‘Hi John’ to the doorman… Believe me, I know your name. It’s embedded in my head. ‘Jeff…Jeff…Jeff…’ It’s my mantra… By the way, John the doorman is probably watching us on the elevator videocam right now…”

Wrong information to give Jeff. He grinned (which you know I love — but in this case signaled trouble capital T), leaned over toward me, grabbed my crotch and glued his lips to my neck. As much as I wanted Jeff’s lips anywhere on me… CRAP! Not good. I mean, I don’t know what the code is between doormen and bf’s being cheated on… but I didn’t want to find out. I squirmed away from Jeff and tried to get him to cut it out (although of course I didn’t really want him to — I wanted to drop to my knees right there in the elevator and have him fuck my throat.) As the door opened on my floor, we were both laughing.

We got into the apartment, had a quick tour (there’s not much of a tour to give in a one bedroom NYC apartment), got some beer, and moved directly to standing beside the bed. 

So here we were. Here he was. The blood inside my head was pounding so hard, I didn’t know what I was gonna do. The good thing was, being the pup, I didn’t need to know what to do; Jeff was in charge of what to do. And he’s nothing if not creative…

To be continued…

(the long awaited) Chapter 16: “Do Not Chill. I Like You All Fired Up”

I know, I know… it’s not fair to keep everybody waiting so long. So here’s the excuse, pathetic as it is: I’m back in school as of the third week of August (yup… pursuing a Master’s in English) and I had this pretty intense 20 page paper to write. But I guess we should get back to me and Jeff…

Well, after I walked Jeff home that night (is it OK for the puppy to walk the pupDad home? it seems like it should be the other way around, but we were basically in his neighborhood, not mine…), I was completely obsessed. Remember gentle readers, I HADN’T CUM. Plus, it was pretty much the most mindbending sex I’d ever experienced. Rough combination, right? So the next day Jeff and I exchanged a couple of emails, and I decided to give him a list of what I’d like to explore with him:

 

Here it is pupDad, in no particular order:

*) Piss. My sum total experience is pissing on a guy in the basement of a bar in Paris (”uro night” — Paris is so fun… but then, I’ve never been to Berlin), and you pissing on my dick in the bathroom of the eagle, twice. 

*) Toys. You know my ass has pretty much been off limits. ’til now. *blush* We’d need to go slow… but… yeah.

*) Eating your ass. Well, we might as well just move this one right to the top of the list. And yeah, I’m good at it. “Eager” and enthusiastic. (Now the problem is, if I eat it, I might have to fuck it…)

*) Spit. Yeah, we did a little of that last week… but I want more. Like you on top of me, fucking me face to face, holding my jaw open and spitting in my mouth…

*) Whatever else you got in your bag of tricks. Cuz I like your tricks.

that’s just off the top of my head, i mean, i’ve barely even been thinking about it. yeah right.

let me know how the week looks…

 

Well, he told me he liked the list. And asked me if I’d be around on July 12th (2 weeks away at this point). No information, just if I’d be available. Uhhhh, yeah. I’ll make fucking sure I’m available.

The next day I got kind of crazy and texted him that the bf was away and I wanted him to come over; he was going to a movie and couldn’t make it, and I immediately felt like I’d gone too far. So I emailed him:

 

I hope it wasn’t over the line that I texted you… it was just that things got freed up for tonite unexpectedly and, well, I thought I’d take a chance… so, if it was pushy or presumptuous or whatever, just tell me to chill, OK? (and just think of it my eagerness as a tribute to, uh, your impressive skills lol)

 

I know, incredibly lame, right? But it just illustrates the insane zone I was in. The good new is that Jeff sent me the following reply:

 

Your instructions: Do not chill. Hope you read that right, pupdog. To repeat: do not chill. I like you all fired up.

 

Obsession was veering distressing close to complete and total sexual infatuation…

 

 

Some Interesting Feedback From A Reader…

I got this comment from “Spike” and I wanted to share it and see what everybody thought:

As hot as this blog may be to read, this has NOTHING to do with life as a leatherpup. You’re a bottom who likes to get fucked and who likes to be dominated; that’s cool. Nothing wrong with that. But I have yet to see one word about real puppy play in the posts I’ve read (though I confess, I haven’t read every single post). Try listening to the podcast from Sexual Heroes on what a real pup is. I’m concerned that newbies will read your blog and actually think being a pup is all about taking poppers so you can sit on someone’s dick. It’s ACTUALLY about acting and playing just like a puppy would: fetching, nuzzling, licking, barking, humping on things (and people… and other pups!), and making everyone on two legs smile. It’s human-animal roleplay, and can be combined with sex, but the simple fact that you actually talk while you’re playing – instead of barking or growling or whimpering like an actual puppy would – makes it clear that you’ve got a lot to learn about being a pup. No offense, but perhaps you need to learn it from someone else. Maybe you’re not actually a pup, and that’s okay too. But if you’re just an eager bottom, be honest about what you are.

Obviously, I don’t have tons of experience in this (hence, “puppy in training”) and, as I’ve said on here, a lot of this I’m doing for the very first time. So, essentially, I don’t know if I’m qualified to respond to all of Spike’s concerns. But some of them? Sure. As for “You’re a bottom who likes to get fucked and who likes to be dominated” — well, I’m actually a pretty committed top who happens to have found a guy, my Pupdad, who I’m into having fuck me and dominate me. I’m not up for that with anybody else (unless, of course, Jeff tells me to). So I think Spike’s insight on that is a bit off the mark. That being said, Spike’s right — the play that I do with Jeff isn’t mimetic of canine play. I don’t drink out of a dogbowl, sleep in a cage, growl and bark, etc. Well, at least not yet. We’ll see. But then, it seems to me that Spike is taking this puppy thing pretty damn literally — not that there’s anything wrong with that — but is it the only way we can understand the puppy/Pupdad dynamic? I mean, “bears” and “cubs” don’t typically get off on living in caves, hibernating in the winter, knocking over honeypots, and roaring or clawing your arm off when approached. Ahem. I totally respect Spike commitment to his version of the leatherpup fetish, but who gets to say what falls within a particular fetish and what doesn’t? The reason that I like the name “My Life As A Pup” and the idea of “puppy in training” is that it’s a good metaphor for the alpha/beta relationship that I’ve got going with Jeff. Plus, I like it cuz Jeff named the blog, and also named me “Maxx the Puppy.” And he calls me his “pup.” So when Spike says “be honest about who you are,” that kinda pisses me off. But not nearly as much as the implication that I should be doing this with someone who knows more about it (i.e., follows Spike’s rules) than Jeff. I wouldn’t do this with anyone other than Jeff. If that makes me not a pup, well, then the blog is misnamed. So goes it. Spike’s just gonna have to deal with his fetish being diluted and perverted (lol).

On the other hand, anybody interested in Spike’s version of leatherpupdom should definitely have a listen to the podcast he mentioned. I’ll put a link to it on the side. It’s pretty fascinating, if admittedly more extreme in terms of dogbreed identification than I could ever take seriously. (I mean, finding your inner Jack Russell terrier? Uh huh. Right.)

(And yeah… I know I owe you guys another installment of the story. Soon. Soon.)