Monday, July 27, 2009

Truck Driver on the DL

I was driving the other day when I heard on NPR the E. Lynn Harris had died. I had no idea who E. Lynn Harris was, but then I listened to the rest of the piece, and it turned out that he was an author who first brought the concept of Black men on the downlow to wider attention. A couple of days later, b&c, freshly back from Haiti, mentioned Mr. Harris' death and said that he had several of his novels upstairs. I mentioned that the NPR reporter had said that the novels were entertaining but had no literary merit, and b&c said that he concurred with that assessment. Novels with no particular literary merit and containing reasonable amounts of hot mansex are some of my favorite things, though, so I'll have to read one sometime.

I'm told that there are still plenty of men on the downlow, and I guess it's one of those cultural phenomena that I don't quite get. I mean, it makes sense if you're in, say, Alabama, but if you're an unmarried fifty-year-old in suburban Maryland, who are you hiding from?

I probably should have posed that question to Bounty, my Saturday morning hook-up. [A couple weeks back: I wrote most of this entry maybe ten days ago, and then I forgot. Sue me. I don't mean that literally.] He'd hit me up several times on Adult Friend Finder, but he'd always wanted me to come over to his place at an inconvenient time. Originally, I'd thought he'd said those were the only times his wife was at work when he wasn't, but he later said that it was when his roommate was out. He also never wanted to drive to my place, even though his profile says he's a truck driver. Of course, his profile also says that he's looking for women. And it said that he was Black, but his picture looked more like that of a Filipino. It's all very confusing. After having met him (and, especially, after having seen his apartment, which really, really looked like two single straight guys lived there) and having fucked and talked with him, I think the real story is that he has a roommate who doesn't know that he's gay. Maybe it's his brother.

Anyway. I got a message from him Saturday morning saying that he'd like me to come over, so over I went. He told me that he'd leave the front door unlocked. He lived in one of those multi-level condos that heavily resemble a townhouse that are so common in Germantown. I locked the door behind me and walked up the stairs and through the living room to another room where he was sitting at the computer, playing solitaire. Handsome. He didn't look at me, so I walked up behind him and ran my hand from his head down over his t-shirt to his nipple. It was nice and perky when I squeezed it, so I slid my hand inside his t-shirt and squeezed it a little bit harder. He said we could go upstairs. He stood up, and I followed him, pulling his sweatpants down as he ascended. He had a nice body, but I couldn't help noticing, with very mild regret, that it was more a white guy's body than a black guy's body. (He also had relatively light skin, but who cares about skin color? Unless maybe a guy's got jaundice, which is probably a turnoff. I've never had sex with a Celt, but I reckon blue would be okay, but there might be laundry issues.) By which I mean that the narrowing from the chest to the waist was not as pronounced, and his ass wasn't quite as bubblicious as one might have hoped.

But he liked to kiss, and he was skilled at it, so it was all good. I grabbed him and we tumbled together on the bed, and before long I noticed that he liked to kiss with his eyes open. This was unusual and, at first, a bit disconcerting, but I got to like it pretty quickly. He obviously liked the attention I was paying to his nipples, even if he wasn't especially vocal. As is so often the case, my inability to wait until I have a guy undressed before throwing him on the bed and going at him came back to haunt me, but neither of us was wearing all that much, so we got from clothed to naked with only minimal interruptions in the making out and nipple play.

At first he seemed hesitant to stop kissing, but once he started going down on me, he really got into it. He'd told me when we chatted on the phone that the only thing he hadn't done was have a guy cum in his mouth, and he seemed a little bit worried that I might be the first, but I reassured him that he was in no danger of that. And then I told him to let me eat his ass, and while he didn't stop sucking my cock, he seemed to forget everything else.

When he seemed a little overwhelmed, I pulled his head off my cock and up to my face, and we made out some more. I put him on his back and lay on top of him, my cock nudging against his nuts and then down in between his buttocks. We kept kissing, our eyes still open, until I felt precum all over his cock, and then I rolled off him, grabbed a condom from my pocket on the floor, handed it to him, and told him to put it on me and then have a seat.

It is always a good thing to introduce another guy to the X position, and he liked it as much as most men do. We wriggled together in the X for a while, then I pulled him up and he rode me a while longer, then I pushed him on his back, bent him in half, and gave him the full-on prostate pounding that I so enjoy until his eyes rolled back in his head. He didn't cum, though, and I eventually got tired, so I rolled off him, took his cock in my hand, and kissed him while I stroked his load onto his chest. I continued to play with the cockhead, and he shuddered, but he didn't stop me. Then I lay on my back, pulled him close to me, and kissed him and stroked myself until I shot onto his shoulder and into his hair.

We took a few moments, then he pointed me to a roll of paper towels, and, you know, whatever: I guess he doesn't like to do laundry. Even then he didn't say much except, "Maybe we can do this again sometime." I told him that would be great. I haven't heard from him since, but he seems likely to follow through eventually. Maybe when he's done with a long haul or something. Anyway, he was fun.

B&c's been around since then, so I haven't been hooking up very much, even though we've decided that I'm going to move out. My major concern about being single is that men are generally more attractive when they're coupled, so maybe I'll get less sex. On the other hand, there'll be a lot more opportunity, and really, there are plenty of guys who'd have more sex with me now if I were more available, so I'd guess the frequency will actually increase. It'll probably be at least three months before I'm in my own place, but b&c is travelling a lot between now and then, so there should be ample opportunity to play.

In particular, all of the members of my last fourgy expressed an interest in playing again, so maybe that will eventually become a regular Tuesday night thing. Like a bridge group, only more fun. I like bridge, though, so maybe I can find three other guys who want to play before they play. In the long run, I'd like to mix other social activities in with my sex life, so something like a poker night orgy would be cool. I suck at poker, but maybe that would compensate for how little I suck cock.


Will said...

You report moving out with no emotion. Of course it's none of my business, on the other hand you put the topic out there. I do remember the word love being used, so I hope this new development won't be too traumatic. You seem like a very resilient man, so I hope everything will go OK.

A Lewis said...

Truck drivers...yummy. I just finished a 415 mile road trip without a single good looking driver...and, believe me, I was looking.

Anonymous said...

I fancy to suck all these cocks up to the balls, one after the other, and swallow all their cum. Then they can piss in my mouth and face.