GRUFF!!!

Boston Paul is back... and this time he's getting help. <g>

Paul seemed fine after our first shoot, but when he and I talked and he was scheduled to come back for something a little more intense than a solo, he flaked. That either meant he had changed his mind about the whole thing or that he was, well, a flake. Having had enough experience to think the former but hope for the latter, I decided to try and look past it. I came up with the idea of him doing a video with just me and the camera.

No matter his reason for not showing, that shoot would still be a step deeper in the pond but not a step so deep as to scare him in the "what do I have to do to him" department. I called him back, and almost needless to say, he flaked again. This time I was pissed. I called his number and his roommate said he was there... but after I'd told him who it was who was calling, he went and looked for him; Paul was "asleep." Sounded an unlikely story to me. I was even more pissed.

The next day Paul called and said that he'd gotten injured on his day job the day prior and that he could barely move. He elaborated and all the details seem to line into place, but I wasn't sold on the story. Nonetheless, being a major fan of big dicked hairy guys with cute accents, I decided I'd give him one more chance. If he didn't show for that, he was out. I didn't care how cute or hairy or Boston-accented he was. I need guys on whom I can depend.

So... we tried again. He showed, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Beginning our interview, I busted his balls a bit about his flaking but his moaning and walking revealed that the injury was real: At least the second time around, he had a real excuse! <g>

My friend told me that you were bullshit, too.
What? He told you what?
Yeah, that you were mad... You didn't believe him.

I was bullshit. I knew "wicked" as in a "wicked movie" or it was "wicked cold" but I never heard someone being "bullshit" when they were mad. Paul (and his accent) had pulled me in again... in under 30 seconds. <G>

Less than two minutes later, I was ready to go. <g>
"The first thing on our little list of activities is I'm actually gonna cut
your clothes off of you..."

I'd told him to wear clothes that could be destroyed, but I hadn't told him that I planned on cutting them up. Getting the scissors close to his crotch, it was a weird sensation, one involving excitement, trust, and a sense of power all at the same time. I didn't dwell on it, but it was cool in a liberating sort of way. <g>

Clothes cut off, near naked, sitting on the steps, I had him kick off his shoes... then well, I, uh... decided I had to start contact somehow. <g>

I went over and cupped his balls in the palm of my hand.
I grazed his pubes with the back of my fingers.
I lifted the shaft of his cock separately before again cupping his ample balls and lifting his entire package... in an obvious "just checking it all out" manner.

I talked about it to him briefly while it was happening ("So you ever had a guy grab your dick and check it out before?" "Nah, never."). And when that slowly ramping up was done, I told him a bubble bath was next. <g>

"Bubble bath?" he asked incredulously, in his adorable Bawston accent.
"Yeah, I know. It's not really your thing. You're not a bubble bath guy, but, uh, you'll look cute in it. It'll be good."

In the tub, things got more intense and my hand felt a lot of hair and growing flesh... but I'm not gonna tell ya about that. Ya gotta watch the video to see. <g>

Well, ok, okay, I will say that the tub starts eight minutes and forty-five seconds in. 25 More Minutes Follow in the video... 25 minutes is a lot of time to do lots of things.

Let's see... <G>

Here's 1 frame out of the more than 44,000 frames that those last 25 minutes contain:

And another:

And one more:

Boston Paul. A real guy venturing into SCM.

Wanna see the rest? Ya gotta watch the video. You know you want to. <g>

Damn. I LOVE my bubble bath tub stroking job! <G>