LARGETONY Blog

I was so charged after that incredible football game. My blood was thumping through me like I had played the game myself. I mean, all do respect to the players and coaches, cause I had nothing to do with the story-book last second victory over a bitter rival in a record-attendance game. But when your blood runs Big Orange you take some ownership in the event. I felt like a king. I felt like a god! My blood was pumping….everywhere.

That’s right, something about the charge in the air from the game made me horny as HELL. I’m not talking ansty-gotta-pull-one-off horny. I’m talking snorting-growling-pawing-at-the-ground horny. It’s like you’re the Terminator…focused, on a mission, scanning for the right person to hit your sights.

Sometimes when I go down to Knoxville for the games I will park in this neighborhood just on the north side of campus. There is this gay bar that I walk by all the time to and from the parking. Sometimes I would stop in after the game and have a beer or two to let the insane traffic from the game die down before starting my hour and half drive home. I wouldn;t get home any earlier sitting in traffic. Well, last night I had parked in a different place downtown. I was major boned and needed to at least be around some men.

I didn’t want to go to the bar in my Tennessee shirt and sneakers. I had another shirt and some boots in the truck. I wanted to feel tall. So I decided to shuttle downtown, drive back towards campus (which wouldn’t be so bad cause all the traffic was LEAVING campus) and go to the bar. I know that seems like a lot of hassle, but my cock was talking. I was under its power. And I had plans for someone else to be.

So I get back to the campus neighborhood, change from my orange t-shirt to a wife-beater and a red button down shirt. Already had on jeans and switched to my boots. Now once you get to this bar, it has an entrance below ground, so there is a retaining wall that a lot of guys sit on (mostly hustlers) and you have to sort of walk this gaunlet to the front door. Usually I hate this, but this night I was on some high and didn’t give a shit. Let them check me out. Take a good HARD look.

So before I go in this short guy comes up to me and says “Hey tall boy, where have you been?” like he knows me. So I just sort of said “Been to the game”. He said “No, I mean where you been the last few months. You don’t remember me, do you?” I didn’t ..not at first. So there was this awkward, what do you say moment. Now, this boy is VERY cute. He looks like he’s in his early 20’s, and has a muscular body. Small, but muscular. Then it hit me. I did meet him back in the spring at this same bar. But before I could say so, he turned around and hiked up his shirt to show off his butt. “maybe this will help,” he said. I swear I hear angels sing. Near perfection. I would say perfection but I do know one person with an even finer ass. Only one. (If you are reading this, you know who you are.)

If ya’ll haven’t figured this out about me yet. I LOOOOOVE asses. I like those thick bubblebutts. Like two halves of basketballs slapped onto the lower back, potruding like a shelf. I’m talking nice pillowy handfuls of gluteal splendor…and I gots some big hands.

This guy is actually a cheerleader for UT. (Not him in the picture. But you get the type.)That’s why the compact muscle body. We met a few months ago when he dry-humped me six ways to Sunday next to the bar. That’s as far as it went though. I asked him why he wasn;t in uniform just after the game. He said he couldn;t wear it into the bar, and besides it would just end up on someone’s floor.

I remember that about him, He was so confident it was unnerving. I think that wigged me out before. But not last night. I don;t know if he knew how much fire he was playing with when he suggedted a six-block walk to his apartment.

So I suggested we go in and have a beer. And he said “Why waste the cover charge? I’m ready now.”

So I slighty lifted the tail of my shirt so he could see the beast straining to be unleashed and said “Me, too.”

His reaction was priceless. Bugged-eyes and slack jaw. He said, “Oh, I had forgot that about you.”

I told him he wouldn’t again.

And he won’t.

Shame I couldn;t stay all night. I’m too much of a gentleman to talk details, but lets just say I helped the cheerleading sqaud yell a little louder and improve on their splits.

Oh, yeah.. and it was one of the most perfect days of your life.

This entry was posted on Sunday, September 19th, 2004 at 1:59 pm and is filed under dating and sex. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.