Monday, October 8, 2007

Pecs Again

A yellow hanky means just what you'd expect it to mean, but I think these boys look better dry.
I was -- where else? -- at work on Saturday afternoon, and it began to look like things were under control, or were at least close enough to being under control that I could finish them off Sunday late afternoon, when I'd already planned to be in the office. I was working somewhat desultorily, so I decided to go on just for the heck of it, and I was instantly accosted by Pecs.

I know I've written about Pecs before, but I don't recall what name I used then. I can't use my normal naming convention, because I can't ever remember his name, even though he's the only one of my fuck buddies who's a fellow MIT alumni. We were even there at the same time, though we didn't know each other then. Anyway, when Pecs is available, it usually takes us about thirty seconds to agree to hook up and then for him to tell me his address, again. No matter how long it's been since the last time, I can't remember exactly where he lives. I did at least have the street name right this time.

I bet that if this guy were going to Italy in three days, he'd have an itinerary already.
I didn't have a lot of time for a hookup, but I figured I could be in and out of his place in under forty-five minutes. Pecs is a lot of fun, but his repertoire is limited, and we've hooked up enough times now that I pretty much know what to expect: he's always going to talk about wanting me to fuck him, but he's never going to actually open his ass for my cock. And so on. But, hey, he's a good kisser, and he's into nipple play: what's not to like?

When I got to his place, he told me that, in fact, "they" (meaning his partner and I have no idea who else) had called and that "they" were on their way back, but that he could "still suck [my] fat cock." I asked him how much time we had, and he said half an hour, and I laughed: I can do a lot more than he and I were going to do in half an hour. As much as I love long sessions, fast can be a lot of fun, and I thought to myself, "fifteen minutes, door to door, tops."
So far, my itinerary is to see Michelangelo's David and to drink some wine.  But I hear there's a lot more going on over there.  I don't even have a gaydar profile!
In my experience, it's the expectation that determines whether you're satisfied with the amount of time you get. If you're ninety minutes into a session and you only then find out that your trick only has ninety minutes to play, you've got a problem. If you know in advance, it's no big deal. I remember one hook up with an extremely hot, young, inked, insatiable bottom over in Catonsville (I worked there some years back). He was the kind of guy whom I could easily have enjoyed for two hours, but we both knew before I got there that I had no more than thirty minutes. In that time, we managed to get in sufficient amounts of making out, cocksucking, nipple play, rimming, fucking, and cleaning up, leaving both of us extremely satisfied. You can get that done if you a) minimize the amount of time between knocking on your hookup's door and having him naked in bed, b) have very intense foreplay so that he's very worked up by the time you get around to fucking him, and c) express your enjoyment of the situation verbally and enthusiastically. But mostly it's a matter of knowing, before you grab his nipples and kiss him, that there's no time for inefficiency. With that attitude, thirty minutes is quite a long time.

And fifteen minutes is more than enough time for Pecs. I pushed him to the bedroom , took off my clothes while he was taking his off, pushed him onto the bed, jumped on top of him, started making out with some ferocity, and grabbed his nips. He was making his usual appreciative noises, and I was, as usual, ignoring them. After about three minutes of kissing, pinching, licking, and biting, I figured I'd take him at his word about sucking my cock (something he usually does very little of), and I pushed his head right down to my crotch. I think it was only the last time, or the time before that, we hooked up that I came to understand how much he appreciates a firm hand, and, having been pushed, he gave much better head than he had in the past. For thirty seconds, anyway. After that, I gave him a similar amount of oral pleasure (easy to do: not a very big dick), and then I wedged my cock between his thighs (he was on his back) to simulate face-to-face fucking, and started to pump. He started to give me the usual spiel about wanting -- someday -- to ride my cock "all night long," and I growled or something. He grabbed his cock, I grabbed his nips, he stroked a few times, I pinched harder, he stroked a few more times, and he sent two long strings of cum up across his chest.

I find it safer to keep my currency in my billfold, but you have to admit that this method provides easier access, if you need your cash in a hurry. Also, it shouldn't take him long to get through security at the airport.

I lay next to him, put my left arm around his head, pulled him into a kiss, and jerked myself off for another forty-five seconds. B&c had jerked off together earlier in the day, so while it was still a nice load by most standards, it wasn't the heavy artillery shot that I've become used to unleashing of late.

Anyway, he jumped up, grabbed a towel, and handed it to me. We chatted as I dressed, and I was out the door, thirteen minutes after I'd arrived, happy with both the experience and my efficiency.

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