Just in case you ever need to know, if you're ever reading a hook-up site in Montreal, and you see "Je ne peux pas recevoir" or the literal English translation, "I cannot receive," it doesn't (necessarily) mean that ass of the guy in question is too tight to accommodate your cock: it means that his wife, partner, or roommate isn't cool with him trying to accommodate your girth in their house or apartment. AKA, "I can't host."
Although I wasn't able to post an ad on Montreal craigslist -- because of a bizarre computer glitch -- I had mentioned on another hook-up site that I would be visiting the second-largest primarily French-speaking city in the world, and a number of men had contacted me to ask whether I would be able to receive. Sadly, there was no meaning of the word for which I would be able to answer the question in the affirmative. My hotel room was on a different floor from the room YFU and EFU was sharing, but I didn't fancy the idea of bringing strange men back to the hotel and up the thirty-eight stairs to the second floor. Besides, the bed was so terrible that I was only managing to sleep on it with the assistance of two camping mats. They were rather slippery entities, so I was pretty sure they wouldn't hold up to any manner of energetic sexual activity.
Fortunately, there was one guy in particular who seemed interesting and who had his own apartment not far from a Metro station. He had written me in English and asked whether I spoke French, and I had painstakingly written him back with reasonably correct grammar and accents to say that I would happily speak French with him and read his French e-mails but that I would prefer to write in English. He turned out to be a translator, so that was no problem. He also said that he was a submissive bottom who liked "uncomplicated" (i.e., NSA) sex, and that was even less of a problem.
I didn't want to cut into my time with the girls, but they were in the habit of retiring to their room by about 10 to read, watch TV, surf the Internet, etc., so I told Jean-Claude that I'd happily come to his place to play so long as we could do it either late or in the early morning (the girls rarely woke before 11). He was busy in the mornings, but we settled on Wednesday night as a time that was suitable for both of us.
I was later getting started than I would have liked, so I ended up taking a cab from the hotel to his place. Montreal taxi meters go up by increments of 5 cents, and they, not surprisingly, do so very quickly. The fare is, apparently, based on both time and distance so that if you're at a red light, the fare increases by 5 cents every four to five seconds, but if you're speeding down a main thoroughfare, the increments happen every two seconds or so. This didn't seem like an unfair arrangement, but it was very distracting.
Anyway, I had gotten out of the cab, paid and tipped the driver, and been buzzed into the apartment building, and Jean-Claude leaned out of his ground floor apartment door to beckon me. He was still dressed, but nobody's perfect. He said hello, and while it was clear to me from our correspondence and even a half-second's glance around his apartment that he was a person of considerable education and refinement, I still pulled him to me and began to kiss him immediately, just as I'd have done if we'd hooked up at my place back home. It is, of course, important to follow local customs, but when you're dealing with a submissive, it's more important to establish toute de suite that you'll be setting the agenda.
J-C was a responsive if not enthusiastic kisser. I wondered briefly whether the extreme lingual reticence was a cultural phenomenon that's widespread among Montrealers, but it seemed easier to just keep kissing him and not worry about the limited tongue contact. Lots of American guys are way too eager with the tongue, so it's not such a big deal if Canadians like to keep their tongues more to themselves, I reckon. I stopped kissing him long enough to let him declare himself pleasantly overwhelmed by my forthrightness, then I ushered him into the bedroom and pushed him down to the mattress resting on the floor.
I was kissing him again and working on his nipples with my hands, and he expressed a desire for both of us to be naked, so I started to undress him and then let him undress me. Voilà: naked. Then I went back to kissing him, soon moving to licking and sucking his nipples. He seemed very unused to that as well, but not at all ambivalent in his appreciation. Around this point I began to hypothesize that J-C while cute, was probably somewhat shy with men and probably didn't have nearly as much sex as he ought and perhaps had taken the opportunity of a visiting top to try something he wouldn't often experience otherwise.
Certainly, he was an eager but not especially skilled cocksucker. And when, sometime later, I told him I wanted to eat his ass while he went down on me, he acted like a child being offered a new and especially desired toy. And, of course of course of course, I loved eating his ass. It was a bit on the small side, but it was very firm, and he really got into it.
A little bit later, I worked a finger into his ass, and it was immediately apparent to me that I would never get him to loosen up enough to receive my cock, so I went back to working it with my tongue, then I pulled him down on me to kiss him some more, and after a bit more work on his nipples -- I could tell they were getting sore: awesome! -- I lay next to him, and we kissed while we both jerked off. When he was very hard, he was still a scant five inches and not at all thick, so I couldn't resist sucking on his cock. As usual, though, that became thoroughly resistable after about forty-five seconds, and we resumed the side-by-side jerking position. He came first, of course. And he watched with awe as my load shot all over me. I used the last of his Kleenex trying to clean it up.
We lay there for a minute or two, and I attempted to chat with him, but I could tell he wanted to get to sleep soon. I rolled over to start getting dressed, and I noticed that he was reading L'Elegance de l'Herisson, a recent French novel that even I had heard of. He offered me some water. I accepted it and remarked favorably on his very comfortable, very crowded living room. He had a painting that made me smile and somehow reminded me of Virginia Woolf. It was a gift from his sister.
Then I asked him for directions to the Metro station (Guy-Concordia), which was not far away. He was fun, but he was only worth a one-way taxi ride. Besides, it was a nice night. I took the metro back to Berri-UQAM and walked the five or so blocks back to the hotel.
I cut the cockring pictured above off a guy who was in my bed at home, but I didn't take the picture until I was in Montreal. I had stuck the ring in the pocket of my shorts at some point, and then I was in a Montreal buanderie (laundromat) where my clothes were in one of the dryers, and when I looked in, I saw the rubber O, upright, running along the tiny ledge at the back of the giant tumbler, like a hamster on its exercise wheel.
The guy I cut it off had answered a craigslist ad that I'd placed at the last minute when it turned out that my daughters were going to be spending the Friday night before we left on vacation at their mother's house rather than over here. (B&c was in Colorado, visiting his daughter.) I texted my buddy Pedro, who'd been asking to come over when I could host, and he said he'd come over, but also asked, as I'd expected, "How many guys will be there?" He's a more is more kind of guy, so I told him it might be just me, but I'd see what I could do. So I placed the ad.
By the way, I tried to place an ad in Montreal, but my ancient laptop couldn't display the graphics that CL uses as a spam filter. Alas, but I really didn't have time anyway. I did manage to hook up with a guy who had contacted me from a site dedicated to that sort of activity, but that's another story.
Anyway, I had the usual collection of serious and non-serious responses to the ad. I'd told Pedro 8:30, which is what I'd told the other two guys who seemed most likely to show up, but Pedro texted me around 7:30 to say he'd be getting there closer to 9, and John, who was coming from all the way out in some place like Upper Marlboro, called just before 8 to say he was running early. He was about five minutes away at that point, and I told him to come on.
John had told me that he wanted to be dominated. And, well, let me be blunt: I'm not getting any younger, and these days I mostly feel like dominating a guy when I've had plenty of sleep. What I mean is that it's always fun to pin a guy down on spank his ass or work his nipples until either he's begging for mercy or I can see that he wants to beg for mercy but won't. It's a desire that's always inside me and can be induced. But it's not active, without induction, when I'm sleepy. In those cases, I'd really rather make out some and then maybe get a nice blow job and jerk the other guy off while I'm eating his ass. Or something like that. Still, even though I rarely get as much sleep as I should these days, I might place the ad during a particularly wakeful period when I'm more in the mood for domination. And, in any case, when I say I'm dom, I always get a better response, so it usually just seems like the way to go.
And dominating John was pretty easy. He was furry and fleshy, without being fat, and he had pretty nice nipples, that I had my hands on almost as soon as he was in the door. And he kissed well, and he gave amazing head. And he got very excited when I answered my cell twenty minutes into our session to talk to one of the other guys who wanted to come over and needed directions, and he heard me say, "Yeah. I'm great. I'm getting some really good head right now." When I had him pinned to the bed again, he told me that he'd never had another guy come and join him during a session. "Guys tell me it's going to be a threeway, but then nobody ever shows up." I explained, in between bites on his nipple, that men who respond to craigslist ads are notoriously unreliable so that it may have been that the other guys who had arranged group sessions had simply not had other guys show up. But I also opined that men who post ads on craigslist are also notoriously unreliable so that they may simply have lied to him about the threeway in the first place. He didn't really say much, but that may have been because my teeth on his nipples seemed to make it difficult for him to concentrate.
At some point, probably after the second time I complimented his truly fine oral skills, he told me that when he was twelve, his stepfather had made him go down on him. I was a little shocked, even though I probably shouldn't have been, but all I asked him, after a brief hesitation, was whether he'd liked it. He said that he had. And now, of course, I wanted nothing more than to learn more details about his sexual history, but it seemed like the wrong time to bring it up, so after asking whether his stepfather had ever fucked him (he had, but only a few times, whereas he'd asked for -- and gotten -- oral sex on a weekly basis), I just went back to pushing his head up and down on my cock, which was, in its own way, very gratifying.
I'd been eating his ass (always a pleasure) for a while when the phone rang again, and it was Pedro saying he'd be just a little bit later. I told him the door was open. John said that his cockring was getting uncomfortable and began to try to remove it, but then asked me whether I had a scissors to cut it off him. I happened to know, from recent cleaning activities, that I had no fewer than three pairs of scissors in my top dresser drawer, so I leaped up, got a pair, and carefully snipped through the rubber that he was holding away from his cock.
We were making out some more when the doorbell rang. At first, I didn't bother answering it because I'd told both of the other guys who were coming that the door would be open, but when it rang again, John worried aloud that the other guy would leave, so I headed downstairs, figuring that it was the new guy (hereinafter "Fourth") because surely Pedro knew by then that the door is always open during a group session. Well, unless someone who comes in locks it, which happens from time to time, but I knew it wasn't the case this time. But it was Pedro at the door. I was a little bit exasperated, but I just pushed kissed him and pulled off his clothes and then pushed him up the stairs. He and John were immediately taken with each other, so I let Pedro climb on top of him for a while and make out with him while rubbing cocks (Pedro loves the frot above all else.) before climbing up behind Pedro and rubbing my cock along his ass crack. John thought that I was fucking Pedro, and that made him (John) really hot. "Oh yeah, Daddy's fat cock is fucking you now." Whatever, but it was fun.
We'd been at it for a while when Fourth appeared in the bedroom and undressed. At the time, Pedro was going down on me, and John, who magically became versatile when Pedro showed up, was standing next to the bed and fucking Pedro. I pulled Fourth down and started to kiss him, and John and Pedro moved to the side of the bed. Over the next twenty minutes or so, they took turns fucking each other while Fourth went down on me. Then, when John was lying on his stomach and Pedro was rubbing up against him, I pulled out of Fourth's mouth, and this time I did fuck Pedro, albeit briefly.
John and I had been going at it for nearly four hours when he finally came in Pedro's mouth. He hung out very briefly, but then he got up and went to the sink to wash off and began getting dressed. I was making out with Fourth, and Pedro was behind me. At one point, he acted like he wanted to fuck me, but I told him, "Dude. There is no way that's going in me. I never get fucked, and if I were going to start, it wouldn't be with something that big." He laughed. All he really wanted to do was rub his cock up and down in my crack anyway, so I let him do that for a bit, and then I pinned him down, and rubbed my cock against his while I kissed him. It only took a minute, and he came. He left shortly afterward.
Fourth was going down on me again, and when I said, "Damn. You really like sucking cock, don't you," he replied, "Yeah, but I like getting fucked even more." And I was all, "Good luck with that, bud. I've been going at it for almost 2.5 hours, and I think I'm too tired." But I was mistaken. Fourth went down on me with renewed vigor, and a few minutes later, I had him on his stomach, and then on his back, all the while ramming into him as if I'd just woken up after a full night's sleep. But I hadn't, so we only went at it for ten minutes or so before I pulled out and kissed him while I jerked first him and then myself off so that there was cum all over him.
And then I really was pretty beat. It was all I could do to follow him into the shower and then dry him off and watch him dress and make sure the door was locked after him when he went down the stairs and out. I was still wet as I stumbled to the bed and fell asleep, content the way you are only when your loins have been freshly emptied.
There's this Latin bi (meaning gay but in denial: bi doesn't always mean that, but this time it does) guy who'd been saying for nearly a year that he wants to hook up with me, but who never followed through, usually citing work as an excuse. And I guess he does work a lot. He's a veterinary tech, and he works two jobs, but I'd offered him the chance to come by after his late shift, even if it meant coming around at 2 am, and he always found a reason not to. I figured nothing was going to happen, but I reckon he got hornier and hornier until his need for dick overcame his reticence. He'd been asking more and more insistently over the last few weeks, when I couldn't play, but this past Sunday, b&c was driving his mother back to NJ (she'd been down for a visit at the same time his son and daughter-in-law and infant grandson had come up from Atlanta, and my ex-wife needed YFU to do something for an extra couple of hours, so I told Migs that I could play. He said that his car was in the shop, but when I volunteered to pick him up, he said that would work.
Migs lives in the next town over, but out in the exurbs that's a hike, so after I went and picked him up from his parents' ginormous place (five acre lot, I reckon), I got to fondle him while driving him back here. I was relatively subtle about it, mostly working on his thighs and barely brushing against his briefs, but he was all wood right away.
Migs is a smooth, slightly chubby, early thirties guy, and that's something that really works for me, especially with Hispanic men. I drove in through the garage, since b&c was out, and squeezed his shoulders as I maneuvered him towards the stairway. I moved to his ass, of course, as he started to climb the stairs.
I barely broke stride to remove my glasses and cellphone before pushing him down on the bed and climbing on top of him. Nice lips, and the sort of good technique you expect from a guy with a girlfriend who probably doesn't let him go all the way with her. And eager? Oh my, yes.
But also quiet, so I had to go by subtle cues. I certainly prefer a man who's vocal with his appreciation when I bite lightly (or not so lightly) down on his nipple, but the quiet, sudden intake of breath and the slight stiffening of the body, particularly when followed by eager kissing when kissing resumes, also gets the message across.
We only had about an hour, and I figured it might be difficult, given how long it had been since he'd been fucked, to get him opened up, but I still took my time. I waited until the second time he went down on me before I got between his legs and buttocks and began to lick and then tonguefuck his very hot, very clean ass. I worked a couple of fingers in, and I could tell it was one of those asses that's very tight but still opens as wide as I need it to.
His lack of verbalization continued when I started to fuck him, and I had to decide for myself how quickly to push into him by watching his face and the tightness of various muscles. I pushed it a little faster than I might have, but, hey, he didn't say anything, and when, after the initial round of penetration, I pulled out to give him a break, he asked me to fuck him again "only not too hard," so I did. I had him on his stomach at first, then with him astride me, then on his side with one leg bent to his chest, and then on his back with both ankles pushed towards his ears. He ejaculated some that way, and it's always hot to fuck the cum out of a guy, but I figured he had more, so I lay next to him and jerked him off while we kissed. He came very quickly, and with much more volume. Then I jerked myself off most of the way, stopping to let him pull the trigger. Volcanic.
We got in the shower and played a little more, and then I drove him home. He got almost chatty. I reckon I'll see him again, but it'll probably not be any time very soon. That's ok. I'm patient. Patience is a virtue, right?