COCK BLOG OF THE DAY: The Great Cock Hunt

The Pillow Fight

Our business meeting went great. I’m certain we saved the client and we’ll probably get more business out of them too. We had a slightly rocky start when someone mentioned politics and Bethany started to go on about “poor Mr. Delay” and how he was being set up, “railroaded by partisan politics,” she said, but Hot Sales Guy deftly cut her off and brought the meeting back on track. But I know that you could all give a shit about the business; you want to know what happened with Hot Sales Guy. Well, the best way to sum it up is that it was weird.

After dinner with the clients Bethany turned in to call her kids and pray or something and Hot Sales Guy and I decided to go out for a few drinks. We ran up to our rooms to change and planned to meet back in the lobby. I put on my new Paper Denim & Cloth jeans which, if I do say so myself, make my ass look awesome. Like Missy Elliott says, I feel like they make my “ass go boom!” I also wore the Rogues Gallery t-shirt that Hot Sales Guy got me for my birthday that says Death & Co. on the front – I love it. When we met up in the lobby it was about ten and after some hemming and hawing we decided we were too lazy to go out and we hit the hotel bar.

We had a pretty good time except when some fat asshole in a cowboy hat with a massive gut hanging over what I must say was a totally hip belt buckle (although I’m sure he didn’t know that) drunkenly asked if us “girls” were having a good time. I ignored him but Hot Sales Guy turned toward him and said “What?” in a confrontational way.

The guy laughed a little but then realized that Hot Sales Guy was serious. “Relax mister,” he said nervously, “I just don’t always see such pretty boys.”I was like, “Just ignore him. He’s a drunk hillbilly.”Hot Sales Guy, his masculinity bruised, wanted to get into something but the guy was already looking the other way, no doubt dreaming up another stupid thing to say. So to take his mind off it I ordered tequila shots and pulled him into his seat. At around 11:45 the bar was pretty empty and the bartender told us it was last call. Hot Sales Guy and I were pretty lit and wanted to keep going. He wanted to go into town and find a fun bar to do some “cruising,” as he said. I was like, “Do you even know what ‘cruising’ is?”

“Sure I do. I’d lookin’ for chicks.”

“Well, I guess,” I said. “But mostly gay boys use it when we’re looking to get laid.”

“That’s cool. I’m looking to get laid.”

“By a gay guy?”

“Hold your horses there, big guy,” was his response.

Trying to think quickly and strategically while drunk, which isn’t easy, I managed to convince him that it was too much hassle to go find a bar and to get there and everything and that we should just go to one of our rooms and abuse the mini-bar. I told him my theory that we did so well with the business that Bitch Boss wouldn’t say anything about the bill. He said fine and we went upstairs. In the elevator I was like, “Whose room?” and he said, “yours.”

Inside we each kicked off our shoes and hit the mini-bar. There was a pretty pathetic assortment but there were three beers so that’s where we started. I turned on the TV and we flipped through a bunch of stations and then clicked off when we realized there was nothing to watch. I hooked up my little travel speakers to my ipod and we listened to some tunes instead. We talked about music, about Bethany, about Bitch Boss and about how he thought one of the clients was hot. It was then – if you can believe it (straight guys are so slow) – that he noticed that I was wearing the t-shirt he gave me. I of course was on the verge of mentioning it all night but I wanted him to notice. When he did I played it off like no big deal. “Oh yeah, it’s a great shirt.”“Yeah,” he said, his eyes a little droopy. “It looks good on you.”What? I was screaming inside. Nothing like a comment like that from him to knock some sobriety into me. I recalibrated myself and said as casually as I could, “You think?”

“Yeah,” he said, “I mean don’t let it go to your head or anything. I’d look better in it.”

“As if,” I said.

“Whatever, guy, you know I’d look tasty in it.”

And he smiled at himself and then downed the rest of his beer. That was already his second beer so there were no other left. He moved on to the twist-top wine.

“Dude,” I said, “you’re too old. You’ve got to be tight to pull this off.” Of course I was full of shit; he’d look good in a car-cover, but it was tantalizing to tease him like that.

Still standing by the mini-bar with his twist-top wine, he was like, “I’m totally tight man, Don’t give me that shit.” And he pulled up the bottom of his shirt to show me his abs. He slapped them a few times and I wished I was his hand.

I rolled my eyes and raised an eyebrow like only a really good bitch can do and said, “Seen better.”
“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? I’ve got it going on, dude. This bod brings in the ladies.”
“Well that’s good because you wouldn’t last ten seconds in a gay bar. We’re much more discerning,”
“What? You ain’t any better.”

I rolled my eyes again, dismissing him, and drank up the rest of my beer. I walked into the bathroom to get a cup so that I could partake in the twist-top wine and I heard him holler after me, “I do 100 crunches every fucking day.” And when I walked back into the room he had his shirt up again and he was punching his own stomach.

“Rock solid,” he said, “Rock solid.“Whatever, dude. Keep your clothes on,” I said meaning exactly the opposite.

“Dude you’d be lucky to get a piece of this.”

“I get much better,” I said. “Regularly.”

“How many sit-ups you do everyday?”He just wouldn’t let the stomach thing go; clearly I’d hit a nerve.

“Enough, will you chill?”

He walked over to me and put his palm against my stomach, judging my firmness I suppose. I had a massive boner strapped down by my tight boxer briefs. “Not so tight…,” he said.

“Is this a competition? Who’s more butch?” I said. I pulled my t-shit off and said let’s see what you’ve got to offer. I tried to puff out my chest as best I could and flex my abs while he unbuttoned his shirt. My heart was beating a mile a minute. He dropped his shirt on the floor and started posing like the one of the guys on the WWF. I thought I was going to cum in my pants. Then he started grunting and making weird faces as he flexed. Straight men are so banal.

“All right, chill out Hulk Hogan.”

“Dude, admit it, I’m pumped.”

“You’re drunk is what you are. But I guess I take it back: maybe there’s a gay guy who’d do you.”

“Maybe?”

“I’m sure there’s some overweight pervert with braces and acne out there who’d let you take his ass for a spin.”

He laughed and told me to fuck off. Then he took one of the pillows off the bed and hit me with it. I put up my hands to protect myself and then turned to the bed and dove for a pillow of my own. While I was on the bed and I threw the first pillow at him and reached of another. He got on the bed on his knees, towering over me, and started pummeling me with his pillow. I was holding one up as defense while I kicked at him with my foot. I managed to knock him off the bed and off balance and I was able to get in a few good pillow-blows to his face. We were both panting out of breath and laughing at the same time.

Then he charged me, wrapped his arms around me, and pushed me back onto the bed. He pinned me down sp that he was on top of me and he started hitting me with the pillow. I was too busy thanking god for putting me in this position – with Hot Sales Guy straddling my crotch – to fight back and he managed to hold his pillow down over my face. I was totally leaking precum and my cock hurt trapped inside my boxer-briefs and jeans. I figured he had to feel my boner, his thigh was resting against it, but he didn’t act like he noticed it. Trying to break free, I was grabbing at his back and arms, feeling their strength and muscular suppleness while sort-of trying to pull him off me; but not really trying very hard.

Finally I got out from under his pillow, wrapped my arms around his abdominals and got him onto his side. I had my arm up on top of his side and I was leaning against him, holding him down, and trying to win the fight. I was momentarily transfixed by the view of his pecs and his nipple, while his muscular arm was fighting me, and he somehow got out from underneath me and pinned me down again. Sort of surrendering, hoping he’d rape me or something, he got me face down on the bed and twisted one arm behind my back. He made me call Uncle before he’d let me go. Like I wanted him to let me go, please; I kept yelling “Aunt” instead. Every time I did he pulled my arm tighter and tighter until finally I had to say Uncle or risk seriously injuring my arm and shoulder. (I did think about risking the injury…).

He got off me and then off the bed. I turned over and watched as he walked back to the chaise lounge thing and slouched down into it. He didn’t put his shirt back on which was fine with me.

“You’re lucky I wasn’t trying,” I said, “Or I’d have kicked your ass.”

“Sure thing there big guy,” he said grinning.

We were both out of breath and my cock was pulsing so hard I looked down at my pants for a wet spot. There was none – thank god. I went to the bar and opened the other twist-top bottle of wine. We turned the TV back on and he surfed the channels for a little while. I was staring at the TV not really registering anything, I was just going over the pillow fight of my dreams in my head. Then I tried to turn my attention to getting the massive hard-on that was still throbbing in my jeans to subside.

I started focusing on the TV when a Bowflex commercial came on. They showed this ridiculously ripped guy using the machine and they were saying for just twenty minutes a day, three times a week, you could look like that. Bull-fucking-shit, I thought. That model probably sent half his fucking life at the gym and never ate anything other than raw fish and meat. I looked over at Hot Sales Guy to make some comment about the suckers that would believe that shit and he was totally passed out. His head was hanging back, in what looked like a really uncomfortable position, and his mouth was wide open. I called his name but he didn’t answer. I called it again louder, still no answer.

I got up and walked over to the chaise. He was wearing only his pants, belt, and socks and he was absolutely beautiful. His chest was rising with each breath and I was close enough o see the tiny hairs on his beefy forearms. He started to snore a little and I jumped, feeling like I had been caught. But he was out. I poked his shoulder and called his name again and got no response. The snoring continued and then stopped and then started up again. I went back to the bed rubbing my hard-on through my jeans and flipped through the channels for a little while. I kept turning to look at him and he kept being passed out.

I watched an old episode of the golden girls – I know, so gay – and finished the wine. My cock was pulsing – it needed to shoot off. I got up and went over to Hot Sales Guy and shook his
shoulder and called his name again. No response. He was out like a light. I went back to my bed and my heart was pounding, I was really nervous. Should I do what I wanted to do?
I unzipped my pants, pulled down my boxer-briefs, and released my prick. My cock was hard and dripping and red from all the excitement. I was leaning there against my bed, just a few feet away from him, and playing with myself. It was too much to handle: the visual of him and the feelings in my dick. I pulled up my jeans and put my cock away; I was so afraid of getting caught.
I walked back over to him and once again tried to shake him awake and got no response. So I just went for it. Like diving into an icy cold pool, I held my breath and unbuckled his belt. He didn’t move. I unbuttoned his jeans and he still didn’t move. I unzipped his jeans and almost had a heart attack I was so excited and scared of being caught at the same time. I pulled his pants open and saw that he was wearing regular boxers. Fuck it, I though, I’d come this far. I pried open the fly of his boxers and got a good look at his sleepy, soft cock. I touched his stomach below his belly button and ran my hand along the top of his boxers. I then took my hand and moved it up to his brawny chest and cupped one of his pecs and lightly grazed the nipple with my thumb. This was too much, I kind of felt like I was violating him and I had to stop.

I pulled his boxers open as far as I could so that I could see his cock resting there. Then I walked back to the bed and pulled out my cock. I spit in my hand and knew it would be like a five second stroke off. While staring at the more-than-half-naked object of my obsession I had the hottest and shortest jack-off session of my life. I shot like a fucking geyser while staring at his hard body. I came onto the floor and all over my hand and my jeans and the nightstand. I couldn’t stop cumming and right in the middle I imagined him walking up and seeing me and what he’d say. So fucking intense. After my orgasm was finally over, and I had a few aftershocks, I pulled up my jeans, wiped my hands on the bed, and went back over to him. I zipped his jeans and buttoned them again and I re-buckled his belt. He still hadn’t moved, he was still snoring, and I leaned over and kissed his lips lightly.

I put a blanket on him and went into the bathroom and got undressed. I was like, holy shit, and I couldn’t get my heart to calm down. I felt weird about the whole thing. Was I some pervert? Why was that so fucking hot? Was there something wrong with me?

I went back out and got into bed. I tried to sleep but my mind was racing. Eventually I must have fallen asleep because I was awoken at about 7:30 by a groan. I looked over at the chaise and he was starting to sit up, his head in his hands. He looked up at me and raised his eyebrows in a “hey.” I rolled over away from him and told him to go back to sleep; we still had a few hours before we had to get to the airport. He got up and I heard a whole bunch of rustling – he must have been putting on his shirt. He said he’d see me later and walked out the door

Oh my fucking god. The minute he was out the door I whipped out my cock and jerked off again.