8 1/2

I know that my (few) regular readers are waiting with 'bated breath to know about my weekend activities, so I'll get right to the point: yes, I did get the grass cut. No, I didn't find a hottie on CL to do it for me. That might be because I didn't post an ad, but I prefer to think that it's a fundamental flaw in the design of Craigslist. After all, what kind of website doesn't anticipate its readers needs? Aside from this one, I mean.

(Really, someday I am going to post that ad, just to see whether anyone replies. You know that somewhere out there is a guy who pines to play the teenager in the teenage-neighbor-cutting-grass roleplay, even if he's a forty-five year old orthodontist. And, hey, I'm perfectly willing to leave my glasses off and see the forty-five year old orthodontist as a hunky teenager if it means my grass gets cut. I worry, though, that I'll get some sub who'll purposefully cut the grass wrong so that I'll have a reason to punish him. Men.)

Anyway, I didn't cut the grass until Sunday afternoon. Friday night has already been covered. Saturday morning, I got up fairly early, checked my email to make sure my afternoon massages were all set, grabbed a breakfast of champions (an Egg McMuffin and a large Diet Coke) from the McDonald's drive-through window, and headed off into The Land That Time Forgot (Northern Virginia) to visit my once and future fuckbuddy R.

R. said that it had been two years since we've played. I'm not sure that it's been that long, but it's certainly been at least a year, and that was a sobering thought because it meant that I'd gone more than a year without visiting the most agreeable pair of nipples I know. It also just made me think about that whole tempus fugit thing, but y'all know how I feel about introspection, so I concentrated on the nips.

I was a little bit early for our rendez-vous, and I was surprised to find R.'s door locked. In the past, he's always left the door to his condo open, and I've walked in, locked it, and gone to his bedroom where he'd been waiting for me, naked. It was weird having to knock, but I knocked, and he came to the door in his clothes. I seemed taken aback by this, which made him laugh. Anyway, since he was standing there, I grabbed him and started to kiss him and held him tightly against me, and he made appreciative noises (He's a very appreciative guy: it's one of his best qualities. Well, that and the nipples that never say die and an ass that's so clean that you wonder whether he ever eats.), and I pushed him toward the bedroom.

While we were getting undressed, he mentioned that a chat buddy of his wanted to watch us on his cam and asked whether I minded. I was a bit nonplussed, and I had a brief image of myself showing up on YouTube. I don't generally think of myself as an exhibitionist, but I could see where the cam was pointed, and it looked like it was going to be easy for me to keep my face out of the frame, so I decided just to go for it. It didn't really turn me on to have an audience, but it wasn't inhibiting, either, though I checked the cam feed fairly frequently throughout the session to make sure my face wasn't showing up.

Sex with R. is always somewhat (or more) athletic, because I get carried away with his nipples and he gets carried away with my cock, and each of our enthusiasm further fuels the other's. I knew that before long, the hard fucking would start, and we only had a limited time (I'd arrived at 9:30, and I had to be back out the door at 11), but I was determined to sample all of him, so I pinned him down and started kissing him. R.'s a great kisser. I think he's probably the first man who ever sucked and tugged on my lower lip in a way that was all wow and no ugh. But his body is an embarrassment of riches, and the pull of the nips was too strong to resist for long, so after an intense but perhaps neither thorough nor long enough round of kissing, I went for the nips. Intensely and thoroughly.

I could probably have done that for the whole ninety minutes we had, but R. had other ideas, and he pushed me over on my back and dove (not so much a figure of speech where R. is involved) for my cock. He is a truly talented cocksucker, and on another occasion, it might have been nice simply to lie back and enjoy that for a half hour or so, but I was pretty worked up, so I pulled his body around, put his knees on either side of my head, spread his cheeks, and shoved my tongue in.

God only knows how any man can have such a clean ass. I half suspect that he autoclaves it, but I can see how there would be logistical problems. In any case, it's as sensitive as it is clean, and my tongue in his ass always makes him pull off my cock, gasp, and dive back down on my cock, taking it deeper.

I'm not sure how long that went on. There's a sort of time dilation effect when I have sex with R. I do remember looking up at one point later in the session to make sure that my face wasn't in the screen and seeing that it was almost 10:30 and that we'd been having sex for an hour and feeling like we'd only just gotten started. Of course, at that point we were actively fucking, so it should have been obvious that we'd been at it for a while, but it seemed like no time at all.

Anyway, what R. always really wants is my cock up his ass, and he likes to ride me. That works for me because I can pull hard on his nips or sit up and bite them while he's bouncing up and down on my rod. Also, he's doing most of the work that way, and while I am really not a lazy fuck, I'm a lazy fuck. R. had been actively and with audible and frequent appreciation riding me for fifteen minutes or so when I decided to change the pace up and go for the X position.

I reckon that everyone already knows the X position, so telling you about it is something like saying, "and if you really want to make a guy feel good, put his cock in your mouth," but on the off chance that somebody doesn't know (and because I enjoy writing about it): to get to the X position, you start out in the riding position, where the bottom is astride the top, with the top's penis (since we're being semi-clinical, but if you don't like semi-clinical, ignore "penis" and substitute "hot throbbing manmeat") firmly inside the bottom's bottom. Then the top (after grabbing the bottom's hips and stopping him from moving, if necessary, and it's always necessary) takes the bottoms hands in his own and slowly lowers the bottom backwards until the bottom is lying on his back. At this point both the bottom and the top are on their backs with their heads pointing in opposite directions. (Really, it looks more like an asterisk than an X, I suppose, but whatever. Mostly it just looks like a couple of happy guys.) The top maintains his grip on the bottom's hands. The bottom's position forces the top's hot throbbing manmeat to exert a pleasurable pressure against the bottom's prostate. The pleasure can be maintained and intensified by some understated writhing on the part of either or both partners. The hand grip makes the motion easier and keeps the penis deeper inside and the two bodies firmly engaged.

R. acted like this was something new (and wonderful) to him, even though I'm sure that I've done this move with him on multiple occasions in the past. Still, I'm not one to question appreciation or enthusiasm, so I just lay there, understatedly writhing, for a while.

Then I pulled him up, pushed him down on his stomach, and entered him from behind. Then I flipped him over on his back and pushed his legs up towards his chest. And so on and so forth: the point is, protracted pounding in multiple positions. At some point we were interrupted by an urgent call from R.'s office, but it was probably good for me to get a two-minute breather. You couldn't call R. high maintenance, but he's certainly high effort.

As much fun as all that fucking was (And it was great fun, believe me; the intense pounding was hot, but so were the times when he was riding me and he slowed down and we talked about whatever; at one point he jumped off me and started to suck me again and he said that the first time we'd fucked, he'd done that and I'd said "ew." It's hard for me to imagine that I'd done that, even though sucking on a condom never strikes me as very appetizing. But he's probably right. The first time we got together might have been as long as seven or eight years ago (right after I got separated, whenever that was), and fin de siècle Teddy was quite the naif.), I was feeling pretty soon into it that I probably wasn't going to shoot while fucking him. To do that, I usually have to have the guy flat on his stomach, and for some reason that position wasn't working as well for us as the him-riding-me, X, missionary, doggie, or spooning positions were working. No matter, really. When I saw that I was really pushing hard up against our deadline, I took matters into my own hand, and he watched closely. When I was right at the tipping point, I grabbed his hand and put it on my cock, and he pumped and swallowed the head and, shortly thereafter, my load. I had told R. about the previous evening's threeway, and he was impressed that I had pumped out such a voluminous load twelve hours later. I'll take his word for it. It was certainly an intense orgasm, but I didn't actually see what my volume was.

R. never ejaculates unless I specifically ask him to, and since he seems equally ecstatic whether or not he cums, I didn't ask. It was almost eleven, and he had a lunch date with his mother at noon. I had a massage coming at noon, and I knew that I'd need a shower when I got home. Even on a Saturday morning, it's more than a half-hour drive home around the beltway from TLTTF, and I needed to stop on the way for some supplies.

Anyway, I've officially upgraded R.'s nipple tolerance from an 8 to an 8.5. I don't generally approve of half-point ratings, but I reckon he's earned it, and we can always pass it off as an homage to Fellini.

I need to ensure that he and I don't wait another year to play again. I'm sure he's game for another go or fifty. He said that for the next few days, every time he sits down or his shirt touches his nipples, he'll remember me and smile. I think he gives me a lot more credit than I deserve, but it would be foolish of me not to at least attempt to earn it.