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On this blog you I am going to share my world with you. What can you expect to find here -- First of all lots of sexy men, off all shapes and types, something for everyone, as I can find beauty in most men. You are going to find that I have a special fondness for Vintage Beefcake and Porn of the 60's, 70's, and 80's. Also, I love the average guy, and if you want to see yourself on here, just let me know. Be as daring as you like, as long as you are of age, let me help you share it with the world! Also, you are going to find many of my points of views, on pop culture, politics and our changing world. Look to see posts about pop culture, politics, entertainment, sex, etc. There is not any subject that I find as something I won't discuss or offer my point of view. Most of all, I hope you are going to enjoy what I post. ENJOY!

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

I DRANK SCOTCH WITH NICK OFFERMAN (AND HE ATE MY ASSHOLE)

From: Manhunt Daily

 Lea Michele’s “Cannonball” is playing. It is just starting to rain outside. I haven’t left my bed for a week. After you've closed the door on filthy, no-rules, aggressive sex with a Twitter comedian, you begin to wonder if you can ever truly fly—fly, like a cannonball, ever again.

But my sexual freedom came to me by a man, a man named Nick Offerman. You may know him as the mustachioed Ron Swanson on TV’s Parks and Recreation, but I know him as the man who ate my asshole, scratching the sensitive edges of my hole with his unkempt facial hair.

Nick knocks on my door. He’s wearing a stained Lou Reed t-shirt, he’s holding a bottle of Lagavulin, and he’s grabbing his already-hard dick through his vintage Wrangler jeans. I tell him to come in, and to have a seat. I grab two glasses, and he pours us both a double—neat. It’s the only neat and tidy move that occurs from here on out.


He sips his glass, massaging his cock through his pants—the whole exercise is both sophisticated, yet raunchy. He tells me to sit where I am, and really take a deep sniff of what’s in my cup. I tell him I’d rather bury my face in his crotch and get a whiff of his balls. He smirks cockily, and tells me to be patient.

He is getting off at teasing me, and I’m getting harder with every sip. I find myself drinking faster, because I’m so impatient. But he teases me even more, cherishing every sip, his hand grazing the thick indentation of his dick. It feels like cam sex, but with the understanding that there is a payoff. I am so turned on.

Nick takes his final sip, and excuses himself to the washroom. My instinct is to fumble with my clothes, so I am naked when he arrives, but he’s been so cool about everything that I don’t want to scare him off. When Nick enters the room again, he is wearing nothing but white briefs. He tells me to come over and presses his scotch-scented lips on mine, pressing hard so I can feel the bristles against mine. He presses his firm cock into mine, making me even more anxious and ready to get on my knees and choke so far down on his cock that I’ll never stop tasting it.


He forces me to my knees, but refuses to take off his briefs. He presses my face up against his sweaty balls, and I deeply inhale, and I feel like I couldn't be any harder. I start kissing his sack and cock through his fitted briefs, looking up to see his reaction. But Nick isn't looking down—he satisfyingly pulls at his right nipple, and his face is looking up, while he tells me to suck his fat dick.

Like Christmas morning, I couldn't unwrap the package faster. Fresh out of the box, his penis is thick, firm and smells like a gentleman’s club—the kind that used to deny women and always smelled like fine cigars and aristocracy. I paint his shaft with my tongue, hoping to get a taste for him. When you’re not used to fine wine, you usually start with something cheaper, but when Nick Offerman offers you his hot cock, you suck and serve and do basically anything he tells you to.

He tells me to get on my stomach, so I do. He starts tracing my back with full, aggressive kisses—the kind that leave scratches in sensitive skin. He moves further down my back, all the while reaching with his farmer’s hands to my ass, grabbing it firmly as if to note that he’s going to make me beg for it if I’m going to get him inside me.


Instead, his face slowly makes its way to my asshole, and he isn't gentle. He grinds his shaggy, bearded face into my hole. It hurts, but it is a good hurt. It’s the kind of hurt that tingles, and then mellows, but I didn’t want the tingle to end, and neither did he.

His tongue penetrated my asshole, and his hairs teased the outside of my hole, opening it up for what I hoped was going to be his cock. It felt like he was down there for hours, and all I could feel was my cock getting harder and my asshole pulsing.

Feeling like a million dollars, Nick comes up for air. He flips me over and kisses me firmly, and all I can taste is him and the sweat of my hairy ass. He comes closely to my ear and asks, “Do you want to get fucked?


I can’t even breathe, let alone talk, so I nod, but not too excitedly (even though, I mean, come on). He tells me that if I’m going to get fucked, I need to work his cock until he is rock hard. Without hesitation, I nod again, and he straddles my chest and drops his cock on my chin. I tell him to fuck my face, and he grins.

And there I was, Nick Offerman fucking my face, making me choke, and the both of us getting so hard we could knock shit off tables. He pulls out, my spit coating his dick, and he reaches for a condom. After he puts on the condom, he forcefully flips me over, and slowly tongues my hole one last time before he slides in.

I’ll say one thing about Nick, he’s a passionate man—he starts slow. And he is such a tease, in the best way. At first, he gets me comfortable with his cock, working my hole slowly before pounding so hard that his balls smack against my ass. And then, as if part of his arsenal of moves, he begins pulling all the way out and going back in. It’s as if every move is a tease to get me off, and I am so close and so is he.


I play with my nipples and tug at my balls as Nick goes in for the final act. He isn't a porn fucker. He fucks hard, but in a way that is in complete control. I moaned constantly, hoping for him to pull out and cum all over my face. And so when he grunted that he was about to cum, I told him to shoot all over my beard. I flipped over, pulled off his condom and eagerly awaited his load to get soaked up by my face. And then he shot—a total screamer in the hottest way.

Nick kisses me, licking up the cum he just shot all over me, and that got me so close. I asked if I could return the favor, and he lied down on the bed, his chin just above the tip of my cock with my balls hanging over his nose. I hadn't cum in a week. I coated Nick’s face with thick, white cum. We kissed aggressively, massaging each other’s love handles, while I sopped up what I had left on his face.

We slept 12 hours that night.


This sexy tale was not inspired by true events. Look forward to more erotic fan fiction in Daddy Mayonnaise’s upcoming book Fucking Celebrities.

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