Fucked by the Fire Inspector

He was here.  I saw him maneuvering his government issued vehicle and backing into my driveway like he always did.  I briefly thought back thinking of how many times this guy had come over and fucked my ass and buried his seed in me.  I had first found him via a Craigslist ad.  It was titled something along the lines of “fuck and seed my ass.”  I normally got flakes off this particular posting, but this guy was not a flake.

He insisted on fucking me anonymous.  I was naked, cleaned out, and lubed up.  I would be face down on a sleeping bag in the middle of my garage waiting on him to fuck me.  What he didn’t know is that I would watch through a crack in the fabric I had hung in the garage window.  That helped me minimize my “down time” face down ass up on the garage floor waiting for his thick latin dick.  Every time was the same game.  I would watch him back in and then I would slip some more lube in my ass and get face down on the sleeping bag.  I kept my end of the deal and never directly looked at him.  He would walk in to the garage and strip down out of his uniform.  Carefully putting his uniform on a chair that I had nearby for him.  He was Latino, probably Puerto Rican or mixed Spanish/White.  He was hung with a 7.75-8 inch thick cock and he liked to fuck.  Hard, Deep, and long enough to bust a nut, but not so long as to make me bored.  It was always dick in ass, pounding until he nutted.  No talking, no kissing, and no looking at him.  Always no looking at him.  For a while he was in the routine of fucking me a couple of times a week.  I knew roughly what time and I basically had to be ready when the request came in.

He was like a freight train in some ways, silence preceding a storm of fucking, followed by silence after he left.  I quickly made my way across the garage floor.  I hated having dust on my feet, so I stopped to wipe them quickly on the towel on the floor before getting on the sleeping bag.  Dirt on the sleeping bag always found it’s way into the lube on my cock.  I love to jack off while I’m getting fucked…..

I set the lube on the cement block I used as an altar during sex.  I jokingly call it an altar.  It is always in front of me and has a bottle of lube and two bottles of poppers.  One is a primary and the other is a backup in case the primary spills.  I then quickly grabbed the primary and inhaled deeply.  I felt the poppers take hold, loosening my hole.  I always called this moment “descent,” as I descended into sex.  One breath isn’t usually enough.  So I hit the poppers two more times.  Holding the last breath deeply to ensure maximum impact.  I then assumed the position.

Seconds later the door opened and in strode my latin cock freight train.  He slipped the door quietly behind him and strode over to me.  Without a word he undressed and got on his knees behind me.  He reached over me and grabbed the lube, helping himself to a handful that he rubbed on his manhood.  He set the lube back on my altar and then swiftly maneuvered himself behind me with his cock pushing against my hole.

One thing I always appreciated is that he knew what he was doing.  He was an incredible intense fuck.  He slowly inserted himself in me in one motion bottoming out with his balls against my hole.  I took another deep breath on my poppers while he was going in.  I told myself this had to help make it easier.  He paused for a moment once he was all the way in and then pulled out 3/4 of the way.  At about 3/4 of the way out he abruptly stopped and started pounding my hole.  Bang Bang bang bang bang…. drilling it with his thick cock.  By this time his arms were mixed in with mine.  While he wasn’t into kissing on the lips he would often lick my neck and ears and nibble on my shoulders.  He continued this in what I call the fag missionary position…. ass up face down, top above me.  After about 10 minutes he would speed up a little bit and then blow his load deep inside me.  Most of the time that was it and the show was over.  He would pull out, stand up, wipe off, and get dressed.  After he got dressed he would mutter “Thanks.”  I would normally reply, “You’re welcome.”  At which point he would walk out the door, letting it slam behind him.  He would hop in his government vehicle and pull out just as quickly as he had arrived and backed in.

This general pattern went on for about a year.  I don’t remember precisely what happened, but at some point we stopped hooking up.  I remember the hookups pretty fondlly and thought it would be fun to share on my blog.  It’s been quite a bit and some of the details were changed, but the core of it did happen.