B&c jetted off to Bogota yesterday. Or I presume he did. He called me from the Miami airport to say that his flight there had arrived on time and that the flight from Miami to Bogota was scheduled to leave on time, but then I got three different pre-recorded calls from the airline saying that the flight time had been changed. First from 5:15 to 5:45. Then to 7:15. Then back to 6:00. Why I need to know all this is beyond me, but I'm glad at least that these calls no longer come to my cell phone in the middle of the night. We'd had a relatively relaxing weekend, including a very good production of The Road to Mecca at Studio Theater. We saw it Friday night. I didn't know what we were seeing until I got to the theater, and when I picked up the program, I gave a long sigh and said, "Oh. Fugard." We'd seen, at the same theater, a rather tedious production of Fugard's My Children, My Africa last year. Or, more likely, we saw a decent production of a rather tedious play. In any case, The Road to Mecca suffered from no tedium. The themes are timeless and universal, and the actors were terrific.
Anyway, b&c left Sunday morning, and I found myself immensely horny. Horniness is not an unusual state of being for me, but I was significantly more horny than usual. I think, in general, that when I'm in such a state, I'm probably a danger to myself and society, but I still had a few things I had to take care of at the office, so I drove in, started working, and threw up a craigslist ad. The hits come quickly on Sunday, and there was a promising, beefy young man (BYM) who was willing to host only a short drive from my office, so I called him and then drove over.
I'd specifically asked BYM whether he liked to make out, and he'd said that he did, "quite a lot, actually," so when he opened the door to his apartment and I grabbed him and kissed him, I wasn't surprised at how willing his mouth was, but I was surprised that the rest of his head seemed very unwilling. He melted into the kiss and then snatched his mouth away, with a sort of a growl. So I went for his nipples while pushing him back in the apartment, then I grabbed his head, and we had another very similar kiss. It was weird, but he just said, "Do you want to go somewhere more comfortable?" I think that was the last thing he said while I was there. Or at least the last words. I suppose if you count snarls and grunts, he said quite a bit more. I'll let each of you decide for yourself on that one.
Anyway, I followed BYM into the bedroom, pulled his shirt off, and pushed him down on the bed. Then I climbed on top of him and started to kiss him again, and he growled and turned his head away. For a moment, I considered walking out, but I was there and I was all horny and I was surprisingly turned on by the whole thing, so instead, I grabbed both sides of his head by his short hair, held his head in place, and kissed him, hard and deep. Apparently that was exactly what he wanted. Again, his lips and tongue were very eager. He kept trying to pull his head away, but I wasn't having it. I tightened my grip and kept kissing him. Then I went for his nipples, hard.
BYM growled some when I bit down on his nipples, but he was clearly having a good time, and having a better time when he was struggling and I was holding him fast. Or at least he was hard and leaking. I wasn't leaking (I rarely precum), but I was for sure hard. Every time I went from his nipples back to his lips, I grabbed his hair and kissed him harder, and every time I got more excited.
Eventually, I relaxed my grip, and BYM broke free and stood next to the bed. I just gave him a look and told him to suck my cock, and he knelt next to the bed and went at it, hungrily. And not all that well, frankly, but sometimes the price you pay for aggressive cocksucking is teeth. I grabbed his hair and shoved his head up and down on me, and he growled more. He stood up and bent over to continue sucking me off, and I kept one hand on his hair and used my free hand to slap his ass. Repeatedly.
I pulled BYM back up on the bed, on top of me, and started to kiss him again. He resisted less this time, probably because it would have been hard for me to compel him physically from that angle. But when I put him back on his back, the resistance started up again. It lessened temporarily when I looked at him and said, "You can pretend that you don't like it, but we both know how much you like it, boy." He growled again, but then he kissed more acceptingly. I decided to reward him by straddling his chest and fucking his face.
All of this was physically very tiring, and I kept wondering whether I'd be able to keep a full-on erection through the workout, but when I rolled off BYM and told him to suck my cock again, I looked down, and I was standing up at attention. I was thinking, "Well, damn, maybe it is kind of big after all," but I didn't say that, of course. I just pushed him down. He moved around so that his chest was between my legs, and when he started sucking again, I wrapped both legs around his head, pulled down, and pushed up.
At some point, BYM got back on the side of the bed, looked down at my cock, and slapped it. Not hard, and there was no pain, but I knew that a response was called for, so I grabbed his hair again, pushed his head down hard on my cock, and pushed a finger up his ass until I could shove down on his prostate. He started sucking even more avidly, which was cool except, again, for the teeth.
I was really worked up, but I knew I wasn't going to cum from a toothy bj, so I pulled BYM off my cock and started to stroke it. He kept his head down near my rod and cupped my balls. I grabbed his hair again with my free hand, and every so often, I'd push it down on my cock, then pull it back again. We weren't in that position very long though, just because I was even more worked up, and I soon started to shoot thick ropes of cum all over his face. After all that, I'd been expecting an intense ejaculation, but it was way more than I'd anticipated. I collapsed and ignored him, and he started to jerk himself off. By the time I felt like reaching for the towel to clean myself up a little, he was shooting a big load out of his small dick.
And nothing more was said. I finished toweling off, put my clothes back on, made sure I had all my stuff, left, drove back to the office, washed up a bit, and did some more work, all with the satisfaction of a man who's fully and aggressively emptied his loins.
There are times -- not many, but some -- when I wish that my tastes were more vanilla. I mean, I do plenty of vanilla, especially with b&c, but it disturbs me a little that sex that was bordering on violent was so much more satisfying to me than a lazy blowjob or a simple fuck. Or at least it was more satisfying in a visceral way. Having to work so hard for the kissing was less orally satisfying, and I found myself wanting to eat everything in sight for the rest of the day. I suppose that could have been simple hunger since I hadn't eaten very much earlier in the day and I refrained from actually eating most of what was in sight, but I can't help but think that it's all connected somehow. Not that it really matters: I like what I like, and there's no reason to change that so long as nobody's getting hurt. And as long as I can get all of what I want, over time.