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Destiny Wins: The Continuing Adventures of Little Whore On the Prairie

Sometimes, no matter how fucked up the logistics of an arranged meeting become things work out as though it was destined to happen. Hooking-up with random strangers is fraught with peril and troublesome enough, but add to that the anonymity of the internet, the fact that you don’t know what a person looks like, and that the place you have chosen to meet is in the middle of nowhere, and the odds seem stacked against it ever taking place, let alone you having a good time. In such instances I operate on a kind of faith; an instinctual thing, and on occasion the universe totally awes me by making it all work out in spite of everything.

Take last Sunday as a perfect example.

Sunday afternoon, I am stuck, not sure what it is I want to do. I decide to get on-line and see if anything is happening. Logging onto my usual haunts, my prospects look none too bright. None of my regulars are on-line. Also no one is contacting me. I am really reticent to contact anybody I don’t know because I’m just in a mood. A couple of dudes hit me up wanting me to come over and top them, but I beg off; again, just not feeling it. Earlier that day, while cleaning my bathroom, I managed to find time to trim my pubes, chest hair and shave my ass. Nothing gets me hornier to bottom than having a smooth ass and in this case I took my time, getting it just right. It feels fucking fantastic, like the skin of a baby. So, I guess I really do have an agenda; I’m just not sure how I want to execute the task.

The weather is rather nice – near fifty degrees and sunny, so I definitely want to be outside, if possible. The Prairie is on my mind in a big way these days, even though nothing has leafed out yet. On a whim, I place a quick ad on one of the sites. If nothing else, at least I might get an email or two inquiring what it is I have in mind. The ad is short, sweet and tied to my profile:

“I just shaved my ass and am thinking about hitting the Prairie this afternoon around 3 pm. Check me out and hit me up.”

Of course I get hits from other bottoms / cocksuckers who want to know the location of the Prairie, but I’m not sharing with them. Who needs the extra competition? So I ignore those.

Then I get an inquiry from a guy whom I assume is new to the site. Or so I think. There’s no picture, no information in the stats section and he’s checked “ask me” for all of the required fields. All I know, based on his handle, is that he’s a top. He’s into the scene and something about his response to the ad makes me want to see where this goes. We email back and forth at a pretty quick clip. I don’t bother to ask him the basics – stats, pic, etc. Why bother? If they aren’t in his profile then he has no interest in sharing that information – asking for it is just going to kill the buzz. Even so, his emails intrigue me. I explain where the Prairie is in great detail, eventually sending him a map. We agree on a time and we’re off to the races.

I get to the Prairie in plenty of time. The weather is cooperating and I’m feeling pretty confident that in the event this guy doesn’t show (likely) that I will find myself a little something-something somewhere out here on the open range. I hang out for an hour and then decide that the guy either can’t find it, or had no intention of coming. Keep in mind I have no idea what he looks like. There hasn’t been anyone else about, so I’m pretty sure it isn’t a matter of him seeing me and deciding he’s made a mistake. But then I was also there early enough and have waited long enough to know this is also not a case of me missing him.

Tired of standing around, I decide to take a hike over to the other side of the railroad tracks. There is a spot over there that I was taken to once last summer. Now hang on to your hats (or whatever else you have in your hands) – I’m about to digress a whole lot, but bear with me. Once, last summer, this odd, bearded man kept hitting on me. I couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted until he finally just came out and said it. He wanted me to follow him over to the other side of the railroad tracks so he could fuck my ass. At that time, legend had it that on the other side of the railroad tracks there was a mattress that some tina-head had dragged out into the middle of a clearing. Here the tina-head would lie naked with his ass in the air taking on all dicks that dared to poke his drug-addled ass. Apparently, according to the former friend of said tina-head that I heard this from, all of the tina-head’s friends were horribly worried about him and that he had in fact been arrested by the cops once early in the summer. The cops took him in stark naked and stark raving mad. I hate tina-heads. They can all go to hell. Even the ones that manage to stop using, for they are never the same again. That said, I had and have no interest in ever actually laying eyes on that tina-head with his ass up in the air. Tina-heads and certain cocksucking trolls have one thing in common: they never seem to acknowledge the word ‘no’.

This bearded guy was a little strange, but did not strike me as a tina-head, so I followed him. All the while this bearded guy had been hitting on me, a really, hot, muscular, Hispanic dude had also been hovering around the periphery of my vision. I had the pleasure of blowing the Hispanic dude on a previous occasion and had also had the pleasure of blowing him on that day (yeah, I know – total whore). I was under the impression that the bearded man had also seen the Hispanic dude, so when I began to follow the bearded guy to the mattress across the tracks and the Hispanic guy followed me, I just assumed everybody was on the same page. Not so.

We get to the other side of the tracks, to this little valley where, sure enough, there is a large, thick foam mattress lying in the middle of it. As I approach, the bearded guy is already flinging off his clothing, getting totally naked. He stops short when he catches sight of the Hispanic dude. “Oh, no,” he says. “No way. I don’t share.” The Hispanic dude just shrugs and continues walking. My first impulse is to follow the Hispanic dude, but, no, I decide to stay. Bearded guy is now totally naked and urging me to do the same. All I’m wearing, besides my ball cap and tennis shoes is a pair of shorts, so I drop them to the ground and step out of them quickly. Bearded dude freaks out again, telling me that I have to take off my shoes. I tell him, “No.” We’re outdoors. I want my shoes on, especially if someone walks up on us. Pulling on a pair of shorts takes seconds, shoes are another matter. But he insists, walks over and begins to untie my shoes. That’s when it hits me – this isn’t going to happen because it doesn’t need to happen. I tell him, “No, that’s okay. I think I’ll get going.” He gets miffed, but you know what? I don’t dig controlling assholes. I really am a go with the flow guy, until someone else decides they need to make all the decisions for everybody. So I bail.

As I’m walking away I begin rationalizing my decision; dude is just okay looking, dude’s body is just okay, dude’s dick is less than I’d hoped for (you would think I’d check on that before following someone over to the other side of the tracks) and dude is really kind of fucked in the head. Maybe he is the tina-head of lore! But, no. Later, I check with a friend of the tina-head and turns out the bearded dude looks nothing like the tina-head of lore. In any case, I feel like I dodged a bullet. And that is how I discovered where the fabled mattress actually was. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming…

I reach the other side of the tracks and there it is, still snug and cradled at the bottom of its mini-valley – the big foam mattress. You would think that spending an entire year outdoors would be really rough on such a thing, but this one must be made out of some super industrial strength foam designed for all kinds of weather and butt-fuckery because it looks as okay as a foam mattress that has been left outside for a year and fucked on by all sorts of beasties can. It is amazingly clean. There is a little foam grit on its surface, no doubt due to the natural decomposition of the foam, but other than that it has held together well. I glance about me. Once things leaf out this will be an ideal place to get fucked, but right now it feels a little out in the open. I decide to climb the opposite ridge of where I entered the little valley. From this vantage point I can see the new bridge the Park and Rec folks put in that runs alongside the railroad tracks, as well as the eastern edge of the ball parks. I used to park over on that side before I got smart and bought a park parking sticker.

As I’m taking in the rest of the landscape, I see a lone male figure walking on the tracks. He’s wearing a dark blue sweatshirt and jeans and that is about all I can make out. I watch as the figure disappears from view, under the foot of the hill. Was he walking in my direction? Did he see me? Soon enough he reappears at the foot of the hill and my immediate reaction is to run and hide. I walk down the hill, my heart pounding, not from exertion, but due to a kind of mounting anticipation. Reaching the mattress, I turn around and peer at the ridge where I’d stood moments before. Sure enough, the dude in the blue sweatshirt appears. Momentarily, we both freeze in place, scoping each other out. I decide he’s not a threat, turn my back on him and move to the foot of the mattress. He comes down the hill and stops about two yards from me. Without exchanging a word, we continue to eye each other.

He’s younger than I thought, with a very handsome, rugged face which currently bears a very serious demeanor. He’s about my height, nicely filled out and obviously in good shape. His hair is a dull, brownish-red and cut in a moppish style. The whole look screams former frat boy; the boy being most evident in the tiny smile that shyly stretches his mouth on occasion, peeking out like the sun breaking through a grey sky. But the smile doesn’t stay long enough for me to get a beat on him and I remain unsure if he’s there for some fun. I also can’t tell if he’s interested in me. The notion that he could be a cop crosses my mind, so I remain extremely cautious. Taking a few steps closer to him, I turn around so he can get a good look at my ass. I’m hoping he will reach out and grab it if he’s interested, but I get nada. Glancing over my shoulder, I eye the crotch of his jeans, which is pretty much covered by the bottom of his sweatshirt, so I can’t tell what’s going on down there. His hands have been in his pockets the whole time. Usually, if a dude is looking for something, he will start playing a little pocket pool to make his intentions known, but, in this case, that’s not happening either. This has gone on for about five minutes now, which seems like an eternity when your fright and flight mechanism is working overtime. I decide to go for broke. Stepping closer, I stand so that my crotch is pushed slightly forward in his direction. Either he takes the hint or I leave.

He takes the hint. That smile that I had only seen a glimmer of before reappears in a big way. His hands come out of his pockets and move to undo the button and fly of his jeans. I quickly do the same; both of us hauling out our equipment at the same time. My equipment is definitely a little heavier duty than his, but from what I see, what’s not to like. A nice pink, bullet-shaped dickhead pokes out from the front of his open jeans and instinctively I go to my knees, pushing my jeans down as I go to expose my ass. As my mouth engulfs the full length of his dick, what to my wandering eyes should appear? But a mass of brilliant red pubes! OMG! I have myself an elusive ginger dick! His cock, though not huge, is quite nice and tasty. It may even be uncut, but he’s excited enough to where I can’t be totally sure. One thing of which I am sure, though, is that this dude likes what I’m doing. Sucking his dick, I let my hands wander over his body. He’s got a tight torso and a set of very sexy pecs. For fun I tweak his nips just slightly. Reaching down, he checks out my dick and then stands back up, pressing the back of my head firmly into his crotch. After working that dick over for a bit, he says, “I want to fuck that ass.” Music to my ears and he needn’t say it twice.

Flipping around to kneel on a corner of the mattress, I throw down the contents of my left pants pocket: two condoms (regular and xxl), a mini package of lube, and my poppers. My pants are still around my calves, so my legs are stuck together. My newfound friend also has his pants around his ankles, so together it makes for an interesting fuck. Turns out we work well with our limitations. In fact, it makes it pretty hot and tight. I take a hit of poppers as he enters slowly, after wisely choosing the regular size condom. As cramped as I’m feeling, this position turns out to have its advantages. I’m really grooving on the way he’s sticking it to my ass. When he pauses to catch his breath I decide to take over. Even with my limited range of motion, and perhaps because of it, I am able to power back on his dick with a fierceness that surprises and delights me. He’s liking it, too and it isn’t long before he jumps back into the game matching me push for push. We’re totally in sync and it doesn’t feel awkward at all – in fact, just the opposite is true.

“You’re going to make me cum,” he chokes out. “Is that cool with you?” “Fuck, yeah,” I say, without missing a beat. “Go for it.” We pick up the pace just a bit and soon he’s making those sounds I love to hear.

Having subsided, he pulls out and I whip around to pull the condom off his dick. It’s a habit I’ve started to develop. I think I just love the sight of that cum-filled reservoir tip, but I also want to be helpful. Standing up, we restore ourselves to order pretty quickly. Actually, not much time has passed, but then the lack of leaf coverage probably added a lot to the urgency of the situation – best to get off before getting caught and there’s nothing wrong with a fast fuck. I’m flush with the rush. I ask him, “So how did you find this place?” He grins. “You told me about it. Today.” I laugh. “So it is you. I wasn’t sure.” I then explain where the actual Prairie is in relation to where he found me and tell him how amazed I am that we just happen to find each other on this side of the tracks. He tells me he’s going to walk around awhile and we walk away from one another in opposite directions.

Heading back to the Prairie, I am still in awe of the fact that the hook-up worked. The odds were just not in our favor: two people who have never met before, a dude I have no idea what he looks like, a place he has never been before, an original meeting place selected and then abandoned, the fact that he was over an hour late, the fact that it was outdoors, the fact that no one else was around… you know, it really shouldn’t have happened at all.

But it did. And it was great.

I guess sometimes the universe wants what it wants and not even someone being an hour late or someone moving to a location not previously agreed upon or discussed is going to stop it from happening.

For that, I am grateful.

Trust the universe.

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