I've written about William, the boy I had tied to my bed Thursday evening, before. We'd played around two or three (but not one or four, I'm sure) times prior to Thursday. He's always fun, but he's always weird about getting together. We last hooked up, apparently, in December, and since then, we've gone through the usual process where he says hello to me online but then comes up with excuses as to why we can't meet. He's recently moved from DC to Bethesda, so now he's just a few blocks from my office, and that would be great, except that he now has a straight roommate, and he has, he says, agreed not to bring guys over. Which, given the difficulty he has in following through, is probably not so tough. Anyway, on Thursday early afternoon, I apparently had gay.com running in the background, because when I minimized one window, there was a gay.com private conversation window, and William had posted several messages to me. He definitely responds when I play hard to get, so when I finally saw the window and responded, he was -- metaphorically -- ravenous.
I told him that I could pick him up on my way home and then drop him at a Metro station after I was done with him. He asked me to come back on later and make further arrangements, but I told him to be at the CVS at 6:30 or forget about it. He started asking a bit about specifics, but as soon as I expressed impatience, he stopped and said that he'd do as he'd been told.
The last two (or three) times that I'd seen William, he'd had me over his DC studio apartment, and he'd always been on the bed, in his underwear, in a darkened room, so while I could make out the shape (very pleasing) of his body, I didn't get a really good look at his face. When I pulled into the parking lot at 6:30, I knew who he was, and when he got in the car, my first thought was that he looked a lot like Richard Blais (who bears a passing resemblance to, but is not as attractive as, this guy) from Top Chef. William was wearing blue basketball shorts, a white t-shirt, and a very loud pair of Nikes. He looked good. His hair was beginning to get some gray in it, but I guess he's probably 37 or so by now, so that makes sense; besides, it looks good on him.
Anyway, it's kind of a long drive from Bethesda to my exurb, and William attempted, at first, to make small talk, but I mostly grunted in reply, and then occasionally I'd twist one of his nipples through his t-shirt, so he shut up, and then he dozed off. I wasn't trying to be rude, but I knew that engaging him in conversation was the wrong mood, and, besides, I knew that he'd be a lot more conversational afterwards, and it's a fifteen-minute drive to the Metro, and he really doesn't have fifteen minutes of worthwhile chat in him. Or at least not fifteen minutes that he'll share with me: I know so little about him that he might be a genius, though the available evidence certainly suggests otherwise.
When we got in the door, I pointed up the stairs, and as he began to climb them, I pulled the waistband of his shorts down below his ass and began to squeeze his buttocks. He whimpered a little. William is an amazingly quiet lay. Spank him, tie him down, pinch his nipples hard, and the most you're likely to get from him is a whimper. If you've been working him too hard, you might get a very quiet, "Baby, please," which means that I need to ease up a bit. If he comes right out and says he can't do something, it means that he wants to be forced. He's entirely counterintuitive, but at least he's consistent.
When we got upstairs, I kissed him for a minute. He doesn't especially like kissing, I don't think, but he's good at it, and if I grab him by the hair and pull his head back, he whimpers and then he likes it a lot better. I pushed him down on the bed and began licking and chewing his nipples through his t-shirt. More whimpering. After a bit more of that, I fetched the blindfold, put it on him, pushed him on his stomach, covered his head with a pillow, grabbed the camera, and began removing his shoes and socks. I tickled his feet as I went, and his body shook, but he said nothing. Then we made out some more (he also likes it better when he's blindfolded), I took off his t-shirt, and I started to restrain his wrists. One of the few coherent comments he made during the session was to ask, just then, whether he'd be able to get his poppers. I told him not to worry about it and got both of his wrists into restraints. Fortunately, they, along with the ankle restraints, were still tied to the bed from Mike, on Tuesday. William's a couple of inches taller than Mike, so the ropes going from the restraints to the corners of the bed weren't as short as they should have been, but the overall arrangement was only a little bit looser than ideal.
Before I got to the ankles, though, I had to pull off his shorts and his somewhat ridiculous underwear. When I did that, I saw that he had leaked all sorts of precum, so I gathered some up on my fingertip and rubbed it on his nipples. Then I got some more on my thumb and put it in his mouth to suck on for a moment before I kissed him. He was starting to get a little worked up now, and it was pretty fun. I wasn't aroused, exactly, but I did enjoy seeing him drip all that precum.
I got his ankles into their restraints and then I spent a little longer tickling his feet, watching his body go tense and then slack, occasionally tugging hard enough on his nuts to elicit a whimper and make his cock rise up, leaving more trails of precum to fall to his stomach. I put a clothespin on each nipple, then I folded my belt in a loop, stroked his face with it, and began lightly brushing the clothespins. When he whimpered more, I began lightly spanking the soles of his feet, which made him writhe (again) and drip precum (again). Then I took the clothespins off his nipples (removing the clothespins from a tender area, apparently, is more painful than putting them on) and put them -- plus one more: all I had because the others are, inexplicably, in the trunk of my car -- on his scrotum. He took all that pretty well; I took pictures.
I wanted to drip some hot wax on him. It took me a while to find the candle, and then it took me a while to carve off enough wax so that it would stay lit, but making a blindfolded submissive wait is all part of the fun. He wasn't expecting the wax, and that makes it a lot more effective, but it also makes it kind of cruel, so when, after the second drip, he said, "Baby, please," I only let him have a third and fourth drip before I stopped.
All of this was fine, I suppose. He'd said that he wanted "ruff" sex, and I'd spanked him, restrained him, worked hard on his nips and nuts, and dripped wax on him. It was all interesting, in an academic sort of way, but I wasn't all that engaged, and I sensed that I'd reached the point of diminishing returns with William, so I (carefully: I'm not vicious) removed the clothespins from his nutsack and tied his nuts tight with a shoelace. Then I unbuckled the restraints and told him to suck my cock. He asked for poppers, but I told him to wait. He started to go down on me, and he did it pretty hungrily. I was getting harder, but it was still going slowly, and I didn't know whether it was fatigue from the aftereffects of my cold or just a lack of engagement, but it didn't really matter. I'm more used to getting wood as soon as I kiss a guy or as soon as I start sucking on his nipples, and I didn't with William, but the oral did it soon enough, and as soon as I was hard, I grabbed him by the hair, pushed his head up and down on my cock and began to talk dirty to him. He liked that a lot, as he did my wrapping my legs around his head and fucking his face.
William loves the submission, but his greatest physiological response always comes from rimming. After he'd been going down on me for a while, I pulled his ass around, put his knees on either side of my head, spread his asscheeks with my hands, and dove in. I warned him before I started not to stop going down on me, and he was pretty good about that. He got overwhelmed by the sensation once or twice, but a stern warning from me was enough to bring him back. He asked a couple more times for his poppers, but I told him to wait and went back to eating his ass.
We were both having a great time with my tongue up his ass and my cock down his throat, but eventually, I was ready to fuck him, so I grabbed the lube, and I told him he could have his poppers. He took the blindfold off to find them and then came back to the bed, where I had him get back in the same position. He played with my cock while I started pushing lubed fingers into his ass. I'd press down hard on the prostate, and he'd whimper and take another popper hit. Then I told him to face me and sit on my cock.
When he started to lower his body onto my rod, he was going very slowly. I grabbed his hips, but he resisted, so I grabbed his hair with one hand and slapped his face with the other. The slaps were hard enough to cause some very mild pain, but not hard enough to make his face red, and he whimpered still more as he allowed me to pull his hips down until I was all the way inside him. Him astride me is not really the position he wants, but he was happy enough to be getting fucked that he started to get a little more verbal, which mostly involved him saying, "Fuck me." For a couple of minutes, he bounced up and down, and I pushed up, and then I stopped him when he was all the way down. I grabbed his hands and lowered him into X position. We only stayed that way for a couple of minutes, and then I put him on his stomach and started to fuck him from behind. I fucked him flat on his stomach, then I turned him sideways and pushed one of his legs up, straddled the other one, and fucked him more. It was a very submissive position for him, so he got still more verbal.
We kept that up for a long while, until we were both covered with sweat. I needed a breather, so I lay back on my back and told him to sit on my cock again. He did, and I twisted his nipples and slapped his face a few more times, and he got very excited, so that when I pulled his face down to mine, he kissed me hard, and like he really meant it. Pulling him down to me had pulled him off my cock, and I grabbed the longer free end of the shoestring and began tugging on it. Then, I bit down lightly on his neck and his nipples, and then I started licking the sweat off him. After a while doing that, I let my head fall down for a rest, and he moved back so that he was sitting between my legs and started stroking my cock.
That was very pleasant, so I let him do that for five minutes or so, until he said, "I don't think it's going to happen," meaning that he didn't think I was going to cum. This was a clear challenge, and I couldn't let it go unanswered, so I replied, "It's going to happen, all right. It's going to happen right now when I fuck you again." He started to tell me how he really couldn't take any more, but that, of course, just means that he wants to be forced. So I got up and shoved him down on the bed. He resisted a little, but it wasn't very hard to muscle him into a three-quarters position: basically on his stomach, but with one leg bent and his body slightly sideways. I straddled his leg and pushed back into him, and he immediately began egging me on. It took a while longer, but it felt really great, so I plowed him harder and harder, until I came. Then I collapsed next to him. The sheets were soaked.
After a minute or so, he got up and headed for the shower, and I started to strip the bed. When he was done and drying off, he said, "Damn, you really are one kinky bastard," to which I replied, "What do you mean? I didn't even get the hamsters out of their cage." (I let the bastard part go, but, for the record, my parents had been married ten years before I came along, and nobody who has met them and me can have any doubt as to my parentage. I suppose he was speaking metaphorically.) He laughed and then looked at me and said, "You are joking, aren't you?"
I jumped in the shower for a quick rinse, then I threw on some clothes and drove him to the Metro station, and then I went to get a cheeseburger. All in all, it was a pretty good time. I'm ambivalent about the bondage and the spanking and the wax and the clothespins, but he was a great fuck, and sometimes it's good to cum while I'm fucking a guy rather than while I'm thinking back over the encounter. Not that I didn't cum again while thinking back over the encounter, of course.