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TIGHTY WHITIES FOR GARY M.

 

I told you I’d make a post specifically dedicated for you.  I believe it is way time for me to dig into my tighty whities files anyway. How bout it ?😏

pup scooby (PART 2)

      Link: pup Scooby

 September 23, 2023

                   Saturday

               9:15ish pm

        

After turning off the hotel lights and replacing them with my red ones, the atmosphere is switched and the sexual tension is rising.  As I stand behind Scoob, I tilt his head back to kiss his forehead. Even on his knees Scoob is pretty tall.  I don’t have to bend much to reach his forehead. 

There is absolutely no way to avoid having some contact with his lengthy beard.  It is very much present.  And it is very much an object of my attention.  I run my hand up to his bearded chin as my gloved hands reaches his lips.  I prompt him with my fingers; testing his reaction.  He does exactly what I hope for.  His mouth invites my leather clad hand inside.  He begins to moan as I go deeper.

"I love it when my boy's mouth is full."

He moans some more as I probe deeper.  He obviously loves my hands down his throat.  His moans makes me hornier and he is fully aware of it. 

Although I commanded his hands behind his back, he finds a cleaver way to feel the touch of my body.

As I am standing behind him violating his throat with my fingers; I feel movement on my thigh.  He is totally copping a feel.  Whether it is deliberate or subconscious, he is definitely testing the waters to see what the response will be.

I know many kinksters who would dare a sub to touch any part of him without his permission.

I actually welcome touch.  I don't even mind the testing of what the sub can get away with as long as he understands that when I say "enough" he complies.  For me it is more about exploration than restricting various access.

As I continue to probe his mouth and grope him all over, his moans get louder.  His hands also creeps higher.  He finds my bulge and plays with it the best he can with his hands behind him.

I grind my hips into the flow of him fondling my erection.  He enjoys groping me almost as much as I do. But it is time to bring this to a halt.

Hands behind your back I whisper.  He lowers his hands. 

I walk in front of him.

"Take your shirt off."

I grab hold his beard, pull him to me and give him a kiss.  Gently I guide his head down to take a sniff of my crotch.  He lowers his lengthy body down; hands still placed behind his back, to begin sniffing and licking my stiff crotch area.  He loves looking up at me.  It is as if he needs to be there on his knees looking up at me.

"What would you like?"

"Please show it to me Daddy."

"Can you say it louder?"

"Please show it to me Daddy," he cries out.

"I can't hear you."

"Please! Please show it to me Daddy!"

"Good boy," I replied.

"You want to see it?"

"Yes. Yes Daddy, please!"

"Unbuckle my pants please."

He begins to wrestle with the first button.

It takes awhile for him to get it unbuckled.

My tight ass jeans don't help the situation.

My weight fluctuates and I'm sure I'm at my highest weight so far.

"I'm kind of chunky so... " I honestly joke.

He pays it no mind as he focuses on getting into my pants.

He finally gets them open.  Underneath is my black jockstrap. 

“Would you like to sniff,” I ask.

“Yes Sir. Please.”

He takes in the aroma of my crotch.

Blissfully he responds, “Thank you Daddy.”

“Good boy.”

He wants to do more than smell it. He begins licking my bulge getting my jockstrap nice and wet with his saliva. His warm mouth feels good on my cock. I’m ready to feel that mouth without the clothing barrier.

I give him a choice, “I’ll let you see it, only if you take it off me with you mouth. You cannot use your hands.”

Pup Scooby eagerly gets to work on getting his snack as he gnaws on my jockstrap; pulling them down for his treat. 

FACT #19

   

The moniker Daddy Scruff derives from The Scruffy Black Guy; a series of real life sex stories on my male photography blog. The concept came from a funny yet accurate Black editorial on how White men can get away with the “scruffy” look while many Black men are banished to the fashion police.

The Scruffy Black Guy was my tongue-in-cheek rebellion of that article. I’ve used the name for years up until 2021when I started my BDSM journal; giving birth to the name Daddy Scruff.

HISTORY

Originally posted on my previous blog. 

                                       February 2021

When we talk about Black History, we think of many great figures such as Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, Fredrick Douglas, as well as current figures like Barack Obama and the list goes on. 

Someone we don’t hear about are the unsung heroes of Black History.  The heroes I’m talking about are the one’s in our own lives; The Family.

When I think of Black History I think not only of the public figures that has impacted my life, but the direct people who molded me and shaped me into the man I am now.

My Father 

As I mentioned before , Every little boy at some point looks up to his father.  

Even though it can be tough to break through to that sentimental center that allows him to express his feelings, I know he loves me.  He taught me by his example; that if I want something all I have to do is go for it. 

My dad spent 25 years in the military, worked two jobs to provide for his family.  He got his degree in Aeronautical Engineering in which he spent the majority of his years working in that field.  Even now in his seventies he works helping veterans get the proper benefits due to them.

What I've learned from my dad is that there is nothing that cannot be achieved if you are willing to put the work into make it happen.

It wasn't an easy road.  But he never let the color of his skin, nor his age, or what people perceive of him become a stumbling block for him to reach his goal.

My Mother 

Worked two jobs as well.  

She was the one who gave me my cooking (survival skills) on that fateful day she came over and caught me eating Ramen noodles. 

She nearly passed out when she opened the counter to find thirty five packets of Ramen noodles.  

Taking about a conversation of all conversations! 

At my defense: They were assorted flavors. 

She and my sister are the ones that helped fix my place up so it didn't look like a holding cell.

My Sister

We have had so many deep conversations.  But no advice  has ever hit me a hard as this simple charge she gave:

"If you find yourself somewhere you don't want to be; Get out."

"It may take a few days, a few months; hell, a few years! But whatever you do, always work on getting yourself out of situations you don't want to be in or that's not good for you."

I was probably no older than eighteen or nineteen when she said that.  But it has stuck with me to this very day and it is something I live by.

As I observe Black History month; this is how I choose to celebrate. 

If you are a man, woman or trans person of color, take the time to share about the heroes personally in your life.  We all should be heard because we all have done something positive to contribute to history whether large or small.

As I proofread and edited this post that was posted on my previous blog, I wrestled with whether I will post it this year or just wait for next February since I haven’t really acknowledged Black History Month once this year.  

In my observation, many of the readers really don’t pay much attention to these types of posts anyway.  

Black History really doesn’t concern many that they don’t identify with.  I’m actually okay with that. I really didn’t post it for the majority that read this blog for my sexual escapades anyway.  

This post is for “everyone” with the main focus being for myself and for my POC. 

(People of Color)

We often dwell on an island where the surrounding body is often a sea of indifference to our experience.  It shows in the analytics numbers I read.

It shows in how media promotes Black History Month and in everyday conversation.

Not only did I battle these factors but also reposting this material and knowing I’ve done this before. 

When I repost my older material, sometimes the flat out anger of not having my previous blog over some bullshit makes me wonder if I even want to go there again. (Blogger I will never have the respect for your blatant disregard of your patrons. And I will read you for filth… FOREVA!)

But here I am, and as long as I am blogging I will continue to express myself how I see fit. Even if I have to say it twice.  Three times even. 

DADDY ISSUES POSSIBLY?

Originally posted on my previous blog.

October 16 2021

I never knew what it was or still is about him that intimidates the hell out of me.  I never cease going back to being that eight year old boy that looks up to his father like he was the biggest, strongest, baddest mofo on this planet; and yet still having this barrier between us to really knowing what this man is about.  Having a sense of respect but also a sense of total fear when he starts to shout. 

 “Don’t make me have to raise my voice!”  

That warning sparked palpitations when raised.

There are some people that earn respect.  And then there are others that rule out of sheer fear and obedience.  My father ruled with a little bit of both.

I’ve always believed that those who taught others to fear and obey could and would always gain one’s obedience but never gain one's full respect.  My dad  when raising me; gained both. 

He was loving, kind and provided for his family.  We also knew when he said do something, it better be done.  There was never a dichotomy between the two.  They seemed to work hand in hand hence the great respect.  

The ironic thing about the whole scenario is I was always the good boy who hardly ever got in trouble. (With the exception of not doing my homework.  My grades were terrible.)

My sister: she was always getting into trouble.  My dad and her butted heads like two rams.  Get two alpha personalities in the same household and you got yourself major fireworks.  I would stay in my room in total silence while my mom came out to make sure no one killed each other.

My dad really got on my sister.  He disciplined the hell out of her.  But she held her ground and said what she was going to say no matter what the outcome was.  With me he never really disciplined me much.  Hell, he really didn’t have to.   I’ve seen the shit that went down in our household and I was cool with not acting up.

Even though my Dad was on my sister like white on rice, my sister got away with saying things to both my mom and my dad that I only wish I had the balls to say.  But even though they would literally throw down in times of turbulence, my sister and my Dad had a bond that never could be broken.  

She was and is to this day, Daddy’s girl.  As I was growing up I always related to my Mom.  Was I a Momma’s boy?  I really can’t say.  I just know if I really wanted the latest video game or something I knew would take some major coaxing, Mom was the one to go to.  Okay we both knew who we could work over to eventually get our way.

Even though I was, okay I’m going to say it; a Momma’s boy, I always felt the great need to really know my father.  I felt like my sister really got him and for some reason I couldn’t even get through the first layer with him.  To this day I swear whenever we talk on the phone it is usually a maximum of 10 minutes.  That's on a good day.  Whenever he's on the phone with my sister no less than an hour.  But I know he loves me and I love him.  I just wish I knew what is under all those layers.  There is a man in there.  A man that has seen plenty of things good, bad and ugly.

When my sister calls she shares how important it is to make sure we are checking on him because he’s recently windowed from his second wife. (Not my Mom) he lives by himself and there are a lot of  things going on with him physically that he is not sharing.

“Like what?”

Oh boy when my sister spilled the tea!  I was like “What the fuck! Get out of here!”

Some of the things my sister told me literally made my head spin.  But how did she know so much about his life and I didn’t?

What I realized is that intimidation that I had of my father prevented me from really getting to know him.

It was and is why we can’t spend more than ten minutes on the phone before It’s “time to get off the phone" because we have “a lot of stuff to do.”

I always envied:  Not as much envied as I longed to be able to talk to my dad like my sister does. 

My dad a few years ago just out of the blue said, “ You know my current wife thinks I treat you differently from your sister. She thinks I don’t spend enough time with you.”

He continued with this very old school reasoning, “She’s way off. It’s just different between girls and boys.  I never felt I needed to discipline you as much.  I just let you be, well you.”

I wanted so much to say, “That’s bullshit.  And I’m going to tell you why that’s bullshit.  Every little boy looks up to his father.  He wants nothing more than for him to love him, be proud of him and yes even push him when he needs to be push.  What’s most, that little boy wants to know who his father really is.”

But that’s not what came out.

What came out was, nothing. I kind of just nodded my head and wished for the 5 minute conversation to be over.  

I am an extremely sensitive and very expressive person.  But with my Dad I often just put up this wall and say, "Yelp" or "Nope."

 It is really how we are used to communicating.  So the issue is not only the wall my Dad has.  It is also the wall I have built up as well.  And that wall is not exclusive to him.  I have various walls built with lots of people.  It just depends on their level of crazy and how it interacts with my crazy.  That ultimately determines how high and thick that wall is going to be.

About a year ago my sister revealed something so elementary.  Something that was in my face all this time.

She revealed that my silence intimidates my dad just as much as his “In your face” approach intimidates me.  He has witnessed my silence with various people in my life and knows that that silence will build up to me either having one of those “Let me tell you about yourself” conversations or it could be the ending of a relationship with you.  The thing about it is with my dad neither of those things would ever be possible.  Well, maybe one day the “Let me tell you about yourself” conversation.  But I stress with extreme caution.

Recently I got a serious laugh from a blog post I read Conversations with My Father: Summer Visit Edition.  I couldn’t help but crack up at the cool banter that went back and forth and how explicitly open Mr. Steed was with his father about his dating life.  As funny as it was, it made me realize just how much of that I would long to have with my father.  

My dad; shit, my whole family loves my husband to death. 

When asked how he’s doing I just say, “Oh he’s fine.”

I just have grown so accustomed to providing as little information as possible.  I never wanted to throw my “gayness” in their faces all the time.

Everyone to this day including the man that wanted me to procreate to make little Daddy Scruffs has fallen in love with my husband. So why the walls?

Fuck! I don’t know! You tell me!

I guess the one thing that matters above all else is that my dad loves me and I love him even if we have a unique way of showing it.

Yep! Definite Daddy issues! 

But I’m so grateful I have him in my life.

TODAY'S PICK

Masturbating my hole brings a totally different pleasure than masturbating my dick. But both leads to an amazing endorphin release. I save the juicy details in Stroke 5.

HAIRY CHESTED DADDY

                             The year of 2004

 Link: HAIRY CHESTED DADDY 

It was the year of 2004.  I don't remember the time of season but I do know it was in the area of late afternoon; maybe around 5:30pm.  There was a popular phone chat line I used to use to hook up.

I was checking my voice box when I heard a message from a man that seemed pretty sexy.  In the message he mentioned that he thought my voice was sexy and that he would like for me to come to his place.  I checked his profile message. 

It went somewhat like, "Forty-five year old top into younger smooth guys… "

Of course he had some sexy clever line in order to get his prospects thirsty for him.  I have no recollection of what it was.  But it worked.

He mentioned he was equally intrigued with my profile message.

Mine was similar to, "Thirty-three year old versatile guy looking to explore bottoming more."

When I was younger I was much more versatile. I loved both being the guy on top as well as having a hot guy on top of me filling my insides.  And if we switched and took turns, even better.  But there were just times when I just wanted to be fucked.

We exchanged numbers and chatted.  He gave me his address.

I got to his place and knocked on the door.  He opened the door in some blue shorts and a short sleeved white button shirt with some type of design.  He was a good looking 45 year old White guy with medium brown hair with a sexy splash of gray in his hair and beard that gave him a very sexy daddy look.  I was in my blue jeans white T - Shirt and a black dickies jacket; Nothing new.  Although I didn't have on any baseball cap. 

I find it amazing the details I can remember from 20 years ago and yet other details remain fuzzy.  Even with our attire it is hard to pinpoint the time of year this took place.  I discovered the actual year by mental back tracking, various events, hairstyles I had and special milestones of that time and how that would relate to finding that year and hook up. It’s a strange process to explain but it works. 

He invited me in.  We talked for a good while and got to know each other a bit.  I always feel like I have a better time when I can spend a little time getting to chat with a person.  I love the tension as we talk and bullshit.  It makes the intention of jumping each other's bones more powerful.

I do remember being on his couch and with a smile he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

I leaned in grinning from ear to ear as he began to kiss me.  He laid me back as he got on top of me.  I was in bliss.  I pulled my pants off as we lay with our boners rubbing each other in our boxers.  He began to pull my down my boxers.  Slowly he began to go down on me.  I began to moan.  

He started from the tip all the way down the shaft to the base.  Licking up and down my dick he traveled lower to my balls.  I began to really moan and shiver.  He paid very good attention to my balls, going lower to my taint.  This has always been close to uncharted territory for me but not something I was totally against; when he started licking my taint as well as my butt. 

It sent me into orbit.  

He giggled, "I see you don’t have that happen much."

 

I embarrassedly confess , "No.  I don't."

That's when he dug in like a hungry monster and started munching.  I am sure I screamed like a little girl and was convulsing like I was possessed.  He laughed some more.  He was really getting a kick out of my reaction.  I would say he may have had a bit of a sadistic streak in him but in a very playful way. 

After a few minutes of him torturing me with his tongue he moved up to my face and and whispered, "I want to take you to my bedroom."

 

I followed him as he lead the way.

We stripped naked and for the first time I got to see his full body.  He had a chest full of gray and sandy brown hair all over his torso.  

I quickly migrated to his chest, kissing down to his torso, lower to his hairy bush.  I opened my mouth to take in his cock.  He had a nice body.  He also had a nice size penis. 

I was enjoying it rather nicely.  I didn't enjoy it for very long.  He grabbed me and turned me over so that I was face down.  He definitely was an ass man and he loved eating it.  He rimmed me from this new angle.  It felt much different from when I was on my back.  It was much more unbridled and primitive. 

Once again he had me out of control.  I could feel his warm slobber dripping down the side of my butt cheek as he spit right in the hole.  With perfect aim he punched my hole digging his tongue as deep and with as much vigor as he could. 

I felt the cool air hit my exposed hole when he let up.  

I looked back and saw him reach for a condom.  He lubed up and wet my hole. 

 

He began to push his way in.  I began to flinch.

"Relax,"he whispered in my ear as he started to go in.

 

 He took very slow pumps with me.

"Don't worry baby, I'm going to take my time with you," he said as I felt his warm breath on my neck as he talked.

Thank goodness he was a nice size for me.  I still felt him overpowering my insides.  He could tell I wasn't used to his invasion but he kept pumping in and out at a mellow pace.  Each time he grabbed  my hips to collide into me, I had to breath out.  

"Maybe we can get me on my back and I might be more comfortable,"  I suggested.

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