Thursday, March 13, 2008

Weekend Twofer


So here's the deal. I'm tired. Tired means incoherent. Therefore, you need a soundtrack for this entry. I don't embed audio, so I insist that while reading this, you imagine that you're listening to the B-52s "Butter Bean." If you are so unfortunate as to not be familiar with "Butter Bean," you can go ahead and run "Love Shack" through the dark recesses of your mind.


Anyway, let's step into the wayback machine and revisit this past Saturday afternoon, which finds me sitting at my desk, reviewing tax returns, and counting down the hours until it's time to pick up YFU and head home. But then

Yeah, if you go down to Athens, G-A
And you're driving in your car
You won't get very far before
You hear people shoutin' out!
What's that?
Butterbean! Yeah!
Gramps and grannies
Kids in their teens
Junkyard dogs and campus queens
Yeah, everybody likes butterbeans



Do you like how I create suspense, readers? The implication is that something momentous happened. But really, I just got a call from YFU asking me whether two of her friends could sleep over. Just one week after the sleepover birthday party from Hell. I said no, and I went back to my returns for a little bit, but then

Don't you wait, don't you linger
Butterbean don't slip through my fingers

Pass me plate full, I'll be grateful
1-2-3-4
Pick 'em, hull 'em, put on the steam
That's how we fix butterbeans
(Fix 'em hot hot hot)
(Yeah, make 'em jump outta the pot)



You guessed it: YFU called back to ask whether she could sleep over at someone else's house. I told her it was okay, and suddenly, the evening stretched out before me, as open and inviting as a freshly douched asshole. ("Freshly douched assholes," by the way, would be a great name for a band. They would probably all be angertwinks. Their music would suck, but they'd get a lot of gigs by doing sexual favors for club owners.)

There's this guy who's answered a couple of my craigslist ads. He always acts all hot and bothered and ready to blow (me), and then he fades away when it gets to the point of setting a time. He'd been apologetically bugging me for another chance for a while, and I'd been telling him he was a putz, which, naturally only made him want me more. So I e-mailed him to tell him I could probably accommodate him that evening, and told him to call me. And he actually did call. We chatted for a while, and I told him I'd email the address, so I got off the phone and went back to work. An hour later, I got an email asking whether my failure to send the address meant I wasn't interested. I emailed back to say that I was still thinking about it, given his past history of douchebaggery. He replied that he'd be happy to drive to my little exurb, call me when he got there for the address, and then come over. It was maybe 4pm then, and I'd told him I didn't want to play until 9, so I figured he was just full of it, but then he called me again, and when I said, "You're going to drive all the way from Northern Virginia to my little town without knowing the address?" He replied, "Yes, sir."

I was so so so tired that I really figured I had nothing to lose. If he showed up at 9, I'd play with him for an hour and then crash, and if he didn't, I'd just crash. So I told him to go for it. And then I went back to work. But then

Come here you little butterbean you come on!
Butterbean-butterbean
Butterbean-butterbean
Butterbean-butterbean
Butterbean-butterbean
Butterbean grows on the vine



Well, I might have taken a break to check out the postings on craigslist, and there was a guy in a Rockville hotel who said that he wanted one or more tops to fuck him, and he was 48 and fit, so I emailed him, figuring that telling him I liked kissing would be enough to turn him off. I might also have sent him a crotch shot. Who can remember that far back? Anyway, he replied that he loved kissing and that he very much wanted to play. And he may (who can remember that far back?) have sent me a dorsal view picture of him that may have made me hungry to dive into his ass with one or more of my body parts. In any case, we agreed to 6:30. I knew I was really much too tired to be fucking two guys, but I figured that maybe I could get away without spilling a load with the first guy and then I'd be revved up for the second.

Hotel sex is always better than the same sex at somebody's home. There's something automatically illicit about it that adds spice. You know, open relationships are great, but there's a downside: it's pretty much impossible to have an illicit affair when you have permission to fuck whomever you please. I'm not saying that cheating is a good thing, but it's certainly fun. Anyway, I parked in the garage of the hotel and took the elevator up to his floor. I knocked on the door, he let me in, said hello, and I started kissing him. The guy was just a great kisser. He'd said he was bi. Bi + hotel room = married. Married = great kisser, at least in general, and when they'll actually kiss. He was wearing a robe over a t-shirt and briefs, so I pushed the robe open and slid my hands up under the t-shirt to gently rub both nipples.


This guy was very vocal, always telling me what he liked, which was pretty much everything, and what he most liked was having his nipples played with. We stood there in the doorway for three minutes making out with nipple petting, and then I reminded him that I'd said I really really needed a shower, so he pointed towards the bathroom, and I went in and spent a few minutes under the water and so forth. When I came out, he was on the bed, in just his briefs, and I joined him.

This guy was just a total champ. I knew that what he really wanted was to be dominated and fucked, but I was soooooo tired, and his kisses were so good that they made me just want to melt into him. And he went with that for a good while. And, really, is there anything better than making out for the first time with a guy who's a skilled and eager kisser? I would have done that for hours and fallen asleep in his arms.

But he wanted more, and I'm pretty sure that he was on a schedule and expecting another guy later in the evening. He never rushed me at all, and I think we were at it for ninety minutes in total, but he clearly wanted to go down on me. And when he asked, I gave him my usual response: "It would be rude of me to say no, wouldn't it?"


He was a pretty good cocksucker, if, perhaps, a bit too eager to show off his skills. He kept deep throating me, which, sadly, I find neither necessary nor particularly helpful. But since he didn't mind me lying back and enjoying, I lay back and enjoyed for a quarter hour or so. Then I pulled him back for more making out until he told me that he really wanted to suck me some more, prompting me to tell him that I'd only let him do that if I could play with his ass at the same time. Not, I must say, an especially difficult negotiation.

We were there for a while, me with my tongue up his ass, him with my cock all the way down his throat. Eventually he pulled off me and pulled me up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He stood up, and I sucked on his nipples for a bit, and then I pushed him down to his knees so that he could go down on me a bit. It was what he wanted, both the being pushed down and the cocksucking.

A few minutes later, I pulled him off his knees and laid him sideways across the bed, on his stomach, climbed atop him, and wedged my cock between his thighs. I slid forward and back and bit down lightly on his shoulder, and that made him very, very happy. I'm sure what he really wanted was to be fucked, but I would go from hard to semi-erect whenever he left off sucking me or when I stopped thrusting between his thighs. I was sure that I wouldn't hold up under a condom, so I just let him go down on me some more, alternating with more making out and nipple play. Again, I'd have been happy to do that all night, but he was clearly a man with an agenda, and probably a schedule. He told me that he wanted to get me off, and I said sure, but that I probably wouldn't get off from him sucking me unless he had another hour. So he asked me if I'd jerk off and give him my load. I put him on his side, put my left arm around his shoulders, started to kiss him, and grabbed my cock with my right hand, stroking.


Because I was so tired, it took me a few minutes to get myself to the point of climax, and when I was very nearly there, I pushed him towards my cock, and he got very, very close to it and opened his mouth to catch the first spurt. Then he sucked the rest of the load out of me. We chatted a bit while I wiped up and got dressed, and then I said goodbye. I got a little reversed, so it took me a minute to find the elevator, and when I got there, there was a guy in a black leather jacket loitering around and looking expectantly at his cell phone. I thought he was probably waiting for a call from room 617. I got in the elevator and he didn't, but then he jumped in as the doors were closing and rode it down with me. I walked out to the parking lot, but he headed upstairs to the lobby. I figure he was going to wait another couple of minutes before giving up. I hope that the guy called him and that Mr. Elevator bent him over the bed and pounded him for the next couple of hours.

Some people are fat, some people are lean
But I want you to show me the person
Who doesn't like butterbeans
Yay!

Well, you can have your yams
You can have your collard greens
But if you want to please little ol' me
You better fix butterbeans




Anyway, it was about 8, and I still had to get home, clean up again, and get ready for the next guy. I wasn't far from home, but I really couldn't figure how I was going to be ready to go again. I so rarely have the problem I had with the first guy that I don't have much of a strategy for dealing with it. And I rarely schedule trysts so close together just because I want to be sure to be ready to go again. The upside was that the second guy, I was pretty sure, really just wanted to suck cock. Still, he'd said that he also likes getting fucked, and I wanted to be ready.

So when I got home, I went for b&c's stock of pharmaceuticals, which he keeps on stock for those rare occasions when he decides to find a guy whom he wants to top. He had Viagra and Cialis, and I really didn't know which would be better, so I just decided to take a half-pill of each. I don't think that's dangerous (though, in retrospect, it was probably excessive: that stuff really works). I've read interviews with gay porn stars where they say that when they show up for the shoot, they get large doses of both.

About half an hour later, the guy called me to say that he was in my town. So I gave him the address, and he said he'd be there soon. He was. I jumped him, went for his nipples, and pushed him up the stairs. We started making out. He had a bit of smoker's breath, but it wasn't ashtray breath, so it was ok. I got him undressed and pushed him down on the bed, and we spent a few minutes rolling around, kissing, with me working his nips. Luckily, I got erect pretty quickly and strongly. But I kept checking. Still hard? Yep. And then he wanted to go down on me.



So for the next forty-five minutes, I pretty much just lay back and enjoyed. Every once in a while, I'd grab his head and push it up and down or thrust forward with my hips, but it was mostly me prone, offering mild verbal encouragement. He seemed happy just to focus on my cock. As with every cocksucker, though, his eyes were bigger than his stomach, and after half an hour or so, he was clearly having trouble keeping his mouth doing exactly what he wanted, so he increasingly substituted stroking, which he also did very well.

When I want to cum from a blowjob, it helps me to ramp up the verbalization and the thrusting. The downside of this is that the cocksucker often thinks that ejaculation is imminent when it's still ten minutes away. I thought he might be getting a bit impatient, but he kept at it, and when I finally came, the first shot flew about eighteen inches, off at an angle. Not really a very impressive shot in the context of my cumshots, but it seemed impressive to him. He swallowed my cockhead and sucked the rest of my load out. He'd been working me pretty hard for a long time, so my cockhead was extremely sensitive, but I gritted my teeth and let him suck as much as he wanted, without complaining. Then he thanked me, got dressed, and left. And I watched the first 2/3 or so of Into the Wild.

2 comments:

Lewis said...

All of that happened....in ROCKVILLE? Oh my god. I think I stayed at Ramada Inn out in Rville....in about 1980. Was that the place?

The Neighbors Will Hear said...

Well, the hotel part happened in Rockville. I live a little farther out than that.

And Ramada? Oh hell no! It was the Hilton. I got class, man.

(I kid. I've hooked up at the Ramada, too.)