The falling snow made it difficult to navigate the sparsely lit street. The ad I posted said: “Looking to suck a cock tonight. Clean, DDF, expect the same. Pic gets a reply. I come in, you pull it out, you come and I go.”
I needed to suck a cock. I’m not into kissing, or cuddling, or other bullshit, every now and again, I just need a hard dick in my mouth. I don’t care for the taste of cum—except my own. I quite like the taste of my own cum, but I’ve yet to find another man’s cum palatable.
I found the house number through the falling snow: 204. I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. I have a little ritual: I leave my keys and phone stashed in the car and I text a buddy of mine to let him know where I am—you can never be too careful. I got out of the car and approached the door. No turning back. The guy’s name according to the “From” line in the email was Larry. I really didn’t care about his name, though, and that he was 39, 6 feet tall, 140 pounds, and was [sporting 8 inches](http://i.imgur.com/8PhR53A.png).