The lack-of-sex situation had gotten to the point where it was beginning to inhibit my ability to function, especially at work, where assignments would sit on my desk while I pondered (or wallowed in, depending on one's point of view) my horniness. The blame is fully my own, of course, but I am assisted by working at a firm with a very porous content filter, so it's easy to surf the net for pictures and/or stories of hot men having lots of great sex. Anyway, I was at work today, and it was Saturday, and I needed to get a lot done, and it just wasn't happening, so despite my total lack of free time and ability to host, I figured that if I could find a way to hook up, I should. I saw an ad on craigslist from a guy who wanted a massage, and I thought, "Well, it's something," so I answered it. We went back and forth a few times, and the information exchanged made the guy sound very familiar, so I did some searches in my gmail accounts (I have -- in terms that my grandmother might have used -- more gmail accounts than Carter's got little pills.) and it turned out that the guy who wanted a massage was a http://theneighborswillhear.blogspot.com/2007/07/not-so-slick.html whom I'd last seen about eighteen months ago. Have I mentioned that I'm not always so good about keeping in touch with people?
Anyway, I called S. and asked whether he was still living in the same place, and he said that he was, and I said that I'd be over. I googled directions, and they seemed weird to me. In fact, when I was driving over there, I briefly wondered whether I'd gotten confused and perhaps I had confused S. and another guy, because the drive seemed more like I remembered the drive to that guy's house. (And that would have been a disaster: I'd have had to actually give that guy a massage; S., on the other hand, would just want a romp.) But once I got to the address, I realized that I had just come from a different starting point before and that I was, in fact, at S.' house. He'd been having it remodeled the last time I was over, so when he answered the door, after I'd kissed him hello, I told him how nice the place looked. Then I kissed him some more.
And, truly, that boy can kiss. He has solid technique: he uses the tongue, but he doesn't overuse the tongue; he is mostly soft and languorous with moments of urgency; and he's obviously into it. And he also has great equipment. I was reminded of the moment in Diva (still my favorite movie after all these years, where Jules places the headphones over Alba's ears and says, "Ecoutes," and Alba, after ecouteing for a few moments gushes, "La voix qu'elle a!" Halfway into the session, I was lying side-by-side with S., kissing him, and I thought, "La bouche qu'il a!"
He also has the perfect cock: small, dark, and uncut. I took my time getting to it, of course. I got him on the bed right away, but it was so much fun kissing him, pushing up his polo and playing with his small-but-sensitive nipples, running my hands down his back and inside his jeans to cup his ass, and lying on top of him and pinning him to the bed, that getting him undressed just wasn't all that much of a priority.
Another thing about S. that's near-perfect is his dark, firm, small, plump, immaculately clean ass. Reader, I ate it.
The things that aren't so good about S. are his lack of experience and lack of initiative. He's pretty much mastered kissing, but he's not all that anxious to try anything else, so there's no way he's going to, say, suck my cock. In fact, if I want him to play with my rod at all, I have to grab his hand and put it on my equipment, at which point he'll play with it diffidently only until he's distracted by something else. Which doesn't take very long.
But nobody's perfect, and while he used to not want to let me do anything with his ass, I can now eat it, slide a finger up it to massage his prostate, and shove my cock against the opening. I still can't actually fuck him, but then he's very thin and very tight, and I'm not sure any amount of patience, relaxation, and lube is likely to overcome his physiology. And while he's eager to have his ass stimulated, he's clearly not eager to be fucked, so there's no point in pushing it. I was very worked up this afternoon, so I did put him on his stomach, wedge my cock in his crack, and dry hump him aggressively. He seemed to like that.
I only had an hour to play, and forty-five minutes of that was probably spent making out. Towards the end, we lay side-by-side again, and I grabbed him with one arm and we kissed moderately aggressively while I jerked myself off. I just needed to cum, and I figured that a) S. might freak a little if I got him off first, and b) it wouldn't take long for me to bring him off. I was very worked up from all the great osculation, and I was excessively horny, so the ejaculation was almost overwhelmingly intense. Also excessively voluminous, but the bed linens were plenty absorbent. I could have used a moment to recover, but he was still kissing me, and that was still feeling great, so I started to play with his cock again, and, as I'd expected, it wasn't long before he was breathing hard and then murmuring "I'm coming" into my mouth. I got a nice load out of him, too. (Nothing like mine, but then my nuts are probably three times as big as his.) And then we kept kissing for a while longer while I played with his softening cock. Really, that thing is hypnotic. I should probably be grateful that I'm circumcised: if I had foreskin, I might never bother getting out of bed.
We chatted a bit as I got dressed, and I told him to keep in touch. I'm pretty sure that it's really up to me to keep in touch, and I'm pretty likely to remember to do that this time.
Anyway, the sense of relief is almost embarrassingly great. I'm sure other people go a couple of weeks without having sex with another person and without falling to pieces. Then again, maybe they don't. The world seems to be in an awful mess these days. Just imagine how much better off we'd be if the geniuses who gave us interest-rate swaps and collateralized mortgage obligations had instead spent their time hunting for cock and ass on craigslist. Let's hope the Obama administration gets right on that.