I worked pretty late (after 10) Monday night, and I didn't get to sleep until almost 1, and then there was some pre-dawn cuddling leading to an aborted bj (because I fell asleep when b&c was going down on me; this has happened so many times during tax season that neither of us is at all bothered by it any more), and then I had to be up by 6:30 to get back to work, so I was pretty tired yesterday. But there was this fifty-something bear (6'4, 220, furry, goatee) who'd been wanting me to dominate him, and he was free last night, so I left work at the scandalously early hour of 6:45 pm and dropped by his house. As you may have gathered, I'm not much for preliminaries, so when he opened the door, I walked in and grabbed him.
I left my coat on the couch and my glasses on the kitchen counter en route to the bedroom where I kicked off my shoes and shoved him down on the bed. I went on kissing him while I pushed his shirt up. He'd told me that he'd had some recent medical tests that had required him to shave his chest, so there was razor stubble all over it, and that was kind of hot. I'm agnostic on the subject of body hair, but this guy had very pronounced nipples, and they stuck out all the more because of his temporary near smoothness. I, of course, was entirely entranced with them. They had clearly had a lot of work over the years, and I was about to give them a lot more.
Mark was a quiet guy. He'd said that he was shy and submissive, so I'd expected that. When I began to work on his nipples harder and with my teeth, he started to moan and then grunt, but it was a very sexy grunt and it urged me on. I continued to separate him from his clothes, stopping occasionally to straddle him and pin him down or kiss him or work the nipples yet again. I took a very quick break to get naked, and all of his clothes ended up on the floor in a pile with mine.
When I got back on the bed, I pushed his head over to my cock, and he started to work on the head. I figured that I should get a little more verbal, so I made the requisite "cocksucker" comments, and he responded well. I grabbed his head and pushed it all the way down on my cock until he gagged, then I pulled him off me, pushed him on his back, and got on top of him and kissed him more. He was still gasping for breath, but he was clearly enjoying himself. I gave him another go at my cock and pulled him around so that I could slap and then finger his ass. It was not quite clean enough to eat, but nobody's perfect.
I was horned up and in something of a hurry, so I'd probably only been there for half an hour when I went for the condom. His ass hadn't seemed especially tight, and it was a lubricated condom, so I figured I'd just go for it. He didn't complain, and he resumed the rhythmic grunting (which, oddly, never really got much louder), but I wasn't able to get all the way in him, so I asked for some lube. He got it and lubed both my cock and his ass, then I put him down on his stomach and entered him from behind again.
I was getting in deeper now, and I started thrusting harder, knocking the headboard up against the wall. He reached for it to hold it away, and I was thinking, "Hey, at least we're in a house, no one can hear anything. But I had forgotten that he actually rents out half a house with a separate entrance, and I later realized that the bedroom wall shares a wall with the other house, perhaps their living room. Well, maybe they weren't home. Anyway, he had an ample ass, and I still wasn't getting quite the penetration that I wanted, so I turned him on his side and had him pull one leg up, and then I was able to go deep. I planted my fists on either side of him and started to plow hard. He was making the same noise, but with an increased frequency to match my thrusts.
I was clearly very worked up because I probably hadn't been doing the hard thrusting for more than five minutes when I felt an orgasm building. I slowed down, but his ass kept clamping down around my cock, so I figured WTF and resumed thrusting, and I shot pretty quickly. I didn't pull out, though. His ass was still squeezing and releasing and squeezing again, and I wasn't getting soft, so I continued to fuck him slowly for the next couple of minutes until I was well and truly spent. Then I rolled off. He went to fetch a washcloth a minute or so later.
We chatted for a bit while he got dressed, then he mentioned massage, so I told him to take his shirt back off, and I put him on his stomach and gave him a few minutes of shoulder, back, and neck work (I got the same grunting out of him, but maybe a little quieter) followed by a little more making out. He seemed very relaxed but also ready for me to leave, so I got dressed and took off. I'm pretty sure he had a good time, but I'm thinking I wasn't demonstrably enough dominant for his tastes. Or maybe he just wanted to watch TV. Who knows? He's definitely the sort of guy I'd do again but wouldn't go out of my way to do again. Fun but forgettable. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Then I headed home, grabbing a cheeseburger on the way, figuring that b&c wouldn't have bothered to make me dinner since I'd told him I'd be late. But when I got there, there was veal stew and polenta left for me. And because I'm the kind of guy who's willing to suffer for my relationship, I poured myself a glass of wine and sucked it up and ate a second dinner. I mean, it was delicious, but still. B&c sat at the table with me and he was in a very good mood. It turned out that someone who'd been embroiled in a minor political scandal yesterday was someone for whom he'd once worked and who had given him a hard time. He told me that he was suffering from schadenfreude. I laughed and told him that schadenfreude isn't something you suffer from: it's something you enjoy. I put that concept into practice during the rest of the evening, surfing between The Real Housewives of Orange County and A Double Shot at Love. I'm still convinced that civilization will soon be crumbling around me, but I'm a creature of appetites: give me empty nuts and a full bladder, and the world can't do me no harm.