Saturday, June 23, 2007

Back in the Saddle

After Thursday evening's multiple disappointments, I was tempted to lie low for a while. You know, I like that last sentence, but it's such a lie. Let's try again:

After Thursday evening's multiple disappointments, I might have been tempted to lie low for a while. Hmmm. There's still something not quite right. I think it's the subject of the independent clause. One more time!

After Thursday evening's multiple disappointments, someone else whose psychological make-up in no way, shape, or form resembles my own might have been tempted to lie low for a while. Well, now it's true, but it's awkward. The truth is awkward. The lie is elegant. I leave the choice to you.

Anyway, lying low, even had it been an option, would not have been an option because I had plans to hang out with C., my FWP from down the street a piece. I'd emailed him proposing "a drink, a romp, dinner, a movie, or any combination of the above." He replied, with typical succinctness, that he would keep the evening free for whatever.

I stopped at the TJ's near my office and picked up goat cheese, hummus, sesame thins, and mini pitas so that we'd have a nosh, then I came home and jumped in the shower. I was thoroughly soapy when the phone rang. It was C., sounding kind of tense, saying he'd just gotten home and that he could be over in about half an hour. I finished showering, dried, dressed, answered some email (other irons in the fire for other days), set out the noshes, chilled the martini glasses, and played some seal bounce (at yetisports.org: highly addictive) while I waited for him to show up. He took a little longer than expected, but I greeted him at the door with the usual ninety seconds of lip lock. He was in a much better mood after that. I got the gin out of the freezer, put the olives on the toothpicks, and poured the martinis. Then we sat on the couch and chatted for a while and nibbled. The food, that is, not each other (not yet). I had an arm around his shoulder and was very lightly rubbing along his shoulder blade, which he likes very, very much. Somehow, before long, he was straddling me, and we were making out with some urgency. So I took him upstairs.

I can't say how much I love having a top FWP. If I run into a bottom who wants two tops (This happens more often than you might think. Or perhaps just as often as you might think, depending on how you think.), I have someone to go to. And when it's just the two of us, there's never any question of anal sex. Now don't get me wrong. I love topping. And I love ass, generally. Mmmmmm, ass. But anal sex is something of a production, and on occasion it is very refreshing to be going at it full force without feeling like the ass fucking is the final destination of sex. There's more concentration on the kissing. And, with C. and me, more concentration on the nipple play and on all things oral.

We wisely didn't decide what we were doing for the rest of the evening before we got nakedly horizontal, so after the initial ferocity, I took my time on his nipples. I have found that men who are pleased by but not enthusiastic about nipple play can be made into enthusiasts by prolonged tongue work. I took C.'s right nipple in between my lips and began flicking my tongue rapidly back and forth across the nib. The key is always endurance. Unless a guy's nipples are dead (like mine: requiescat in pace), the flicking will eventually elicit a new level of response. In ideal cases, the response can elevate all the way to orgasm. C. didn't cum from my nipple work, but he got significantly louder and more agitated, and when I then traced my tongue up to and along his collarbone and neck, he was ecstatic.

After that, I went down on him for a while. I've been making an effort to improve my skills as a cocksucker. It seems only fair since I'm not willing to take it up the ass, and on the off chance that I'm ever in Dupont Circle or some place and someone yells "cocksucker!" at me, I want to feel like I've earned the epithet. Apparently I'm getting better, though I still didn't bring him off that way. My guess is that C. gets off pretty much only by hand or when he's buried in some bottom's ass. In any case, we were both enjoying ourselves mightily, and after another half hour of back and forth between nipple play, oral both ways, and then sixty-nine, we made out while he stroked himself off. Due to whatever combination of fatigue and poor diet (during the day, I'd had breakfast and no lunch and four donuts, and I think I was crashing from a severe sugar high: whatever), I was still hard but not close enough to ejaculation to make jerking off worth the effort. After he came, we cuddled for another twenty minutes, then cleaned off, dressed, and finished our martinis.

We decided to get dinner and then catch a movie over at the Rio entertainment complex in Gaithersburg. For many years, Rio was no big deal, but now it's a pretty hopping place on Saturday night. My initial plan for dinner was a pho place not far away, but it closed at 8 (fucking suburbs), so we had dinner at the bar of one of the restaurants at Rio instead. I had a Bass ale and some sort of composed salad that included chicken. Then we saw Knocked Up, which made me laugh until I cried. I think C. might have preferred Oceans Thirteen on the basis of superior eye candy, but he wouldn't actually come out and say that, and, in the end, he was happy with Knocked Up and Paul Rudd. The last time I chose a movie based on eye candy, I ended up sitting through Alexander, and I was bitterly disappointed on many fronts.

We drove home and said goodnight, and I was in bed by 2. The phone rang at 8:30. It was W. (hurray! a new initial!), a married guy who'd answered my CL ad earlier this week. I'd told him Saturday morning would be good and that he could call me relatively early. I told him I had to jump in the shower, and that he could show up any time after 9. I made the usual preparation (a quick spray of Febreze; picking up the dirty laundry; hiding the bloody axes) and jumped in the shower. W. had replied to my ad by saying "Did you find your guy yet?" to which I'd replied "You mean I only get one? Damn! Tell me more about you. If tonight doesn't work out, there are always other times." And he'd replied:
HI, 6ft 198 48 attractive mwm submissive cool laidback guy am married so
cant send pic over net but promise I am attractive and like your sensce of
humor. I know you dont like a lot of emails so I will talk fast. I am ddf
also if you are clean ddf and dominant I can come by today I am in the
Rockville area

What? I'm supposed to resist a guy who compliments my sense of humor just because he can't type and has no picture? As if!

Anyway, W. showed up at about 9:15, and he was exactly as promised. Well, you know, he might have been 5'11 instead of 6', and he really seemed more like 180 or even 175 than 198 to me, but attractive? Hell yes. Longish gray hair and fit. I backed him up against the wall and started kissing him. He said, "I've never kissed a guy before," but since he didn't say he didn't want to kiss and since he'd let me kiss him, I kept it up. Then I pushed him up the stairs, saying "nice tush" as I felt it up. Turns out he's a marathoner.

W. is a submissive of the very quiet and inexperienced variety. I really should learn to be more verbal with those guys, but I got other stuff on my mind than talking. He said "What do you want me to do?" and I said, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." I pulled his shirt off and shoved him backwards onto the bed, climbed on top and started kissing him again. Then I said, "What I really want you to do is relax," and he said that he was nervous but that he'd be okay.

W. has very thin lips, but he's a skilled kisser, and he seemed to have lost any reticence. We made out for a good while and I played with his nips with my fingers and then with my mouth. I was getting no audible response from him at all, but he was pretty hard, so I figured it was all cool. A while later, I pushed him down toward my cock. Pretty good cocksucker: a little bit of teeth but not much, and he appeared to enjoy what he was doing, so I encouraged him with "You like that, don't you" and -- having received a reply in the affirmative -- "That must be why you're so good at it." His technical flaws were very minor, and I was enjoying the blowjob, so I didn't see any point in complaining. Plus, he seemed like a nice guy, so why not throw him a bone? Literally, figuratively, whatever.

We made out some more, and then I told him to suck my cock from the other direction so that I could play with his ass. I'm pretty sure that he'd never been rimmed before. He seemed to enjoy it quite a lot, though his responses were always so quiet as to be comical. But when I pushed my tongue against his ass, he stopped sucking my cock, and I could feel his body tense and I saw his head go up, and that's generally the body language that says "Yowza!" I pushed him back on my cock, and we stayed in that position for a good while. Fun, fun, fun. He asked whether I wanted to try topping him, which made me laugh and say, "Do you have a plane to catch?" He said he had time, so I explained that I was certainly going to fuck him but that just at that moment I was having too much fun eating his ass to move on.

Not long thereafter, I did, though. First I put him on his back and moved him so that his head was off the edge of the bed and then stood up fucked his face from that angle. Again, no response, but probable enjoyment. Then I grabbed a condom and told him to "glove me up." See, sometimes I can use porn language. Generally, though, I'd rather talk about baseball than talk about what I'm doing, and I don't really even like baseball. Actually, that's not true. I love going to baseball games, I just hate talking about baseball. And I hate the Yankees, but who doesn't? Anyway, I don't much like porn talk. I will give the occasional heartfelt (or cockfelt) compliment, but usually if I'm talking during sex, it's about an unrelated topic. So usually, I'm not talking during sex.

Really, it didn't take him nearly as long to get the condom on me as it took you to read that last paragraph. I put him on his stomach (I had some classic French porn playing on mute, and he intermittently enjoyed watching that), and lubed him up with one, then two, then three fingers. Then I climbed on. I told him I'd go slow after he told me he'd only been fucked once before. But I also told him that I bet he was a natural. And he was.

After easing in, I sped up somewhat. He was saying nothing at all, so after four or five minutes, I asked if he was enjoying it, and he said yes, then after another couple of minutes, he asked me to slow down a bit, and then he asked me whether there was ever any bleeding when I fucked a guy, and I said, "You mean me bleeding?" and he (smiling, I think) said, "No, the other guy." I thought about it for a bit, but I couldn't remember a single occasion where I'd seen blood on my condom. I told him that that was probably more likely when there wasn't sufficient preparation. Then he said he was feeling more comfortable, so I began fucking him faster.

He had a really pretty ass, and it was a nice fuck, but he wasn't really all that tight, and I knew that I wasn't going to cum from fucking him. Since he'd only been fucked once before, I figured I'd show him some other positions. So I had him sit on my cock "I've never done this position before" and laid him back into the X position "I've never done this before, either," then put him on his back and fucked him imperialist religion mongering missionary style. I had to ease up on him because, like many runners, he wasn't all that flexible, so I couldn't push his legs as far forward as I'd have liked. Then I rolled him onto his side and straddled his bottom leg and pushed his top leg forward, and fucked him that way. Also new for him.

After half an hour or so of fucking, I decided I'd had enough, so I pulled out of him and put him back on his back. I went to kiss him, but he said he couldn't kiss me after my tongue had been in his ass. He apologized, but it was no big deal. I told him that his ass was very clean (true), and he said that he'd need time to process the idea. So I rolled him onto his side and spooned him for a while, and we chatted about our experiences. He hasn't had sex with his wife in fifteen years, and he's hooked up five or six times from CL. He asked if I wanted to cum in him (with condom, of course), but I told him it was no big deal and that I rarely came inside anyone except for b&c, and that I usually finished myself off by hand. He said that I could jerk off onto his chest, but I didn't really feel like it. He asked whether that was really okay with me, and I laughed and said, "Yeah. I'm going to cum eventually. It's no big deal. Is it a big deal for you?" He said it wasn't.

I was stroking his body while spooning him and asked whether it was ok, and he said that he'd liked everything I'd done to him and that he hoped we could play again. I said sure. I never count on a repeat with a guy like him, but apparently it's not that hard for him to slip out in the evenings, so he has both motive and opportunity. I think we probably will play again. He told me he had about ten more minutes, so we stayed in that position and talked some more, and then he got dressed and left. Nice guy, decent cocksucker, good kisser, not very responsive. I think I'm going to have to break my longstanding policy and give him 1.5 stars. He clearly deserves more than one star, but when I went out afterwards, I got a McChicken sandwich instead of a cheeseburger. No cheeseburger, no second star.

Anyway, we'll see whether I hear from him again. When I told him again how nice his ass was, he told me that he was just starting serious training for a marathon and that in two weeks it would be an awesome ass. Let's hope I get to verify that claim. I reckon there's a good chance that I can loosen his inhibitions somewhat over time if I'm given the chance. And even if I'm not, it was a great way to start Saturday.

3 comments:

Mark said...

Incoming pedantry! Hit the deck, hit the deck!!

Requiescant (instead of requiescat) would be nicer. Requiescant gets you "may they rest in peace" (as opposed to the "may he/she/it rest in peace" of requiescat).

Super entry, as usual, of course, you sexy eloquent dog.

The Neighbors Will Hear said...

I see your point, of course, Mark, but some time back I was playing with a guy who proclaimed my nipples "singularly unresponsive," and I assumed there were grammatical implications.

Mark said...

Nipples so unresponsive that they destroyed the grammatical system of a dead language. Awe, dude, awe.