I had a great date with Ridiculously Compatible last weekend, and it came not a moment too soon. I hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks because he's never available, and I was beginning to think that he'd lost interest, even though I knew that he hadn't lost interest. In fact, he'd said that he really wanted to see me, in an email about how he was going to be out of town for the weekend and so couldn't see me. And, you know, when I'm with him, he always feels really interested (and really good). But what the mind knows, the body sometimes forgets, and as much as I like and appreciate RC's mind, what I hunger for is his body. I don't think much about him when we're not together, except perhaps to notice, a week or ten days later, that I haven't heard from him, so our interaction is very much about the intense physicality of the moment. I would say that it's very Zen, but I don't really know anywhere near as much as I should about Zen. Can anyone recommend a good comic book?
Anyway, RC emailed (or perhaps texted ... I have consulted my iPhone: both emails and text messages were involved) me late Friday to say that he was available Saturday evening, after all. I replied the next morning that I was free, and he texted me to say that he would happily come to my place at 6:30 to play. I texted him back that he could come to me right then instead, but he, naturally, was on his way to a meeting. Patience is a virtue. Virtue is overrated.
Anyway. By the time RC arrived -- right on time: I love punctuality, except, of course, when I'm having people over for dinner because then it's never ready when I think it's going to be ready, and I'm usually still drying myself off from the shower and getting myself clothed when the appointed hour arrives, which is fine (or maybe more than fine) for a hook-up, but not so great for dinner guests -- I was amazingly horny as a result of having played with three guys between Friday night and Saturday afternoon, all without having shot a load myself. RC appreciates the volcanic ejaculations, though, so that was probably a good thing, but before I forget, let me give you a brief rundown.
Friday evening, I met a very cute, very fit thirty-two-year-old Pinoy virgin who had never had any sexual contact with a man (or a woman, for that matter). He told me that he didn't kiss on the first date, and I said, "How do you know?" I love it when superior logic allows me to suck on the plump lips of a cute guy. As with most first timers, he was plenty nervous, and, as with most first timers, the best plan of attack was to grab him and kiss him the moment he walked in the door, overwhelming him with lust and tumescence before he had too much of a chance to think about it. I had him upstairs and naked very quickly, and then I began to take my time and enjoy his lips and his nips and his abs. He was fairly insecure about his appearance (needlessly so, he really was cute) but he was justifiably proud of his abs. Lots of sit-ups, apparently. One supposes he was sublimating his sexual energy, though he did allow that he jerked off a lot.
J. was a real live wire, and I settled into a rhythm of lightly running my index finger up and down his small cock while sucking on his nipple, teasing him a bit by bringing him to the edge and then letting him slide back. When I took a break from that to wrap him in a bear hug and kiss him some more, he grabbed my cock and started to stroke it, saying that he was worried about being able to take it. I was worried, too. Lots of guys say they won't be able to take my cock and then there asses part like the Red Sea, but this guy was extremely thin with narrow hips. But I told him not to worry about it, and then I rolled him onto his stomach, lay on top of him, sucked on his ear lobe for a minute and then very slowly kissed my way down his spine, pausing as I reached the small of his back to spread his cheeks wide with my hands, then letting the tip of my tongue run down to his asshole. He shuddered, and then he began to moan when I pushed my tongue more firmly against his ass. I kissed his cheeks for a while as I worked one and then two fingers into him, but then he was begging me to fuck him, but also saying that he couldn't take my cock, and I was telling him that two fingers wasn't enough, and he was telling me that I needed a condom on my cock RIGHT NOW, so I handed it to him, slowing him down considerably, but it was still not very long before he was lubing me up and then attempting to sit on my cock.
And let's give him credit for effort. He did, in fact, get the head in, at which point he told me that it hurt but it felt good all at the same time, once again illustrating the fundamental paradox of anal sex (which is sort of like the fundamental theorem of calculus, only very different). I did my best to get him to relax, and I got maybe two inches into him, but then he tensed up again and said he needed a break, and when he got off my cock, he saw a small amount of brown (really, a very small amount of very light brown, which was nonetheless surprising given how clean he'd seemed when I was rimming him) and freaked out. Thank God it wasn't blood, I guess.
Anyway, I calmed him down as best I could, but he was starting to get nervous about being out too late because the family he lives with doesn't like him driving after dark, and I told him that, really, at thirty-two he's entitled to a little bit of liberty, but I also played with his cock and his nipples and got him off and wiped him up and then we cuddled and talked a little bit, and it was very nice in the way that things that are unlikely to be repeated can be very nice. He did email me a day later, and he seemed fine, but he lives in Upper Marlboro, which, for those of you who don't know the area, qualifies as something of a hike. Plus, I reckon he's experiencing that post-first-fuck (or semi-fuck) thing that sweet, inexperienced guys go through. And he didn't actually leave my place until well after dark, so he may be experiencing some adoptive family issues. That whole last part is just too weird for me to contemplate, but he's very sheltered and innocent. How is it that I attract so many sheltered and innocent guys, anyway? Better not to look a gift horse in the mouth on that one, right?
The next morning, not long after RC told me that he was on a train and so could not swing by for an early play session, another young, innocent (twenty-seven, as it happens) guy asked me to come over to his place, but he lived in Northern Virginia, and regular readers will recall that there is only one guy I think is worth going to Northern Virginia for, and this guy was not that guy, so I told him he should come see me, which is always wise if a guy lives in Virginia because then if the hook-up turns into a debacle (always more likely with someone who lives in NoVA), the other guy's the one who's wasted all the time. Besides, I had a lot of cleaning to do.
The guy showed up an hour later, and he, too told me that he did not kiss on the first date. (I know, right? No one ever says that, mostly because I tell them that kissing is de rigueur, and now two guys in two days. It's like an epidemic among our youth. Someone apply for a grant.) He wanted to get right upstairs and immediately naked, and then he wanted to go to the bathroom, which cannot be seen from the bedroom and which has a door that does not easily close (The bottom needs to be planed. That sounds like a sentence that could be a double entendre doesn't it?) but that he nonetheless insisted on closing. Then he came back and asked me to stand at the foot of the bed with him, and I held him close for a minute while he played with my cock. Then he dropped to his knees and began going down on me, and he was pretty good at it, but, naturally, I wanted to make out, and, come on, "I don't kiss on the first date?" I picked him up and laid him down on the bed and lay next to him and began squeezing one of his nipple, and when he gasped, I leaned in and kissed him, and he kissed me back, and, yikes, an obvious smoker. Why does a tall, slender, smooth/shaved, fair-haired young man (he is the exact opposite of RC, but they are both dead sexy; as it happens, RC smokes, but you can't tell from his breath until you've been making out with him for an hour, by which time you're really beyond minding) who is obviously going for (and achieving!) pretty want to go and have smoker's breath? It is to weep.
Anyway. I instead concentrated on his nipples, sucking them until he was moaning and playing with his cock, but that brought him pretty close to the edge very quickly, so he pulled away and started to go down on me again. I let him suck on my cock for a few minutes, but then I told him that I wanted to play with his ass while he was sucking me, and he seemed confused by the concept, only bringing his ass to within arm's length. When I pulled him farther around so that my head was between his knees and began to eat his fine, firm backside, he stopped sucking my cock and gasped. After another minute of that, he pulled off and said that no one had ever done that to him before. Then he said he needed to go to the bathroom again, and I heard the door scraping closed again, and then I heard the shower running, and then he was back in the room, only with his clothes on, and he was apologizing profusely and saying that he never hooks up and mumbling something about Catholic guilt (B16 sure has a lot to answer for, doesn't he?) and apologizing profusely some more. And I was just lying there on my back, with a look of befuddlement on my face and my cock standing straight up in the air, and, well, RC was coming over later in the day, and I had a lot of cleaning to do, and this guy was already doing his own penance, and in situations like this, especially when the guy has acted out of ignorance instead of malice, there is one thing always to keep in mind: he is fighting a great battle. Try saying that the next time someone does something you don't like: he is fighting a great battle.* It works wonders in traffic.
There's this local Latin guy who's also fighting a great battle, and he and I had had this very strange on-again, off-again correspondence since I'd answered his craigslist ad perhaps a month earlier. I figured he was playing with me, especially after he emailed me Friday and accused me of giving him a false address. I have never given anyone a false address, and, indeed, my policy is never to give anyone my address unless I've talked with them on the phone. So I went back through my email correspondence with him (thank God, once again, for gmail) and verified that I had no idea what he was talking about. He eventually said he must have been thinking of someone else (this seemed unlikely) and apologized, but since I had already told him that I was done with email correspondence and had given him my number if he was serious about getting together, I let his apology pass without comment. Then, Friday night after midnight, he emailed me again to say he was back from DC and drunk and wanted to get together and it was too bad that I hadn't responded to his last email. Oh, whatever. Then he sent another email saying he wanted to call me but he was too drunk to come over just then, and, oh whatever-ever-after.
But around one the next day, after the guilt-ridden young'un had departed, he called me, and, hey, I am not one to hold a grudge when a guy finally comes to his senses, provided, of course, that I'm already horny and that the guy in question likes to kiss, and this guy said he liked to kiss, so I told him to come on over. He said he lived about ten minutes away, and he was at my door in fifteen minutes, trying to explain that it's hard to pick my driveway out and that if you miss it, you have to go around a very long block to get back to it, but I was already kissing him, so a lot of that explanation was something that I really just extrapolated from his few pre-osculatory words, with the help of existing knowledge.
As is often the case with Latin men, he had very nice lips. He was about four inches shorter than me, and I stood there, leaning down and kissing him until he abandoned all thoughts of speech, then I turned him around and pushed him towards the stairs. He was wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, so it was pretty easy to just pull the shorts down and then follow the visible butt cleavage up the stairs. I am not a big fan of the flip-flops, but they undeniably speed disrobing, and he was fully naked and stretched out on my bed in nothing float. He'd said he was thirty-six, and I'd guess he was more like forty-two, but he was very cute and smooth, with nice nipples to match his nice lips. I put him right on his back and straddled him, pinning his arms over his head, and he moaned softly as I kissed him, then not-so-softly as I began licking his nipples. I heard "Harder," as I took them between my lips and pulled, so naturally (I am above all a gracious host), I complied and bit down on them. Juan had gone along with the kissing when we started, but after I chewed his nips (not all that hard, really) for a bit, he kissed me back with real hunger, and everything got hotter by a level or two. He'd said he was in a bit of a hurry (having to start his chores, or whatever), but he didn't rush me when we were making out, and he waited until I pushed his head down toward my crotch to go down on me. I just soaked it in for awhile and made appropriately appreciative noises, but I really wanted his ass, so I soon pulled him around, and he did not share the previous guy's reticence.
You know me, readers: time stands still when I'm eating ass (or sucking nip, or kissing), but I'm pretty sure it wasn't as long as it might have been before he was asking me to fuck him, so I handed him a condom and some lube, but he didn't like my lube, so he got up and got his own, and, well, whatever, I was a rock at that point and not much was likely to bother me. He got me sheathed and greased, and he mounted me, facing the other way. I grabbed his hips and eased him down, relatively slowly, but he said he was having trouble, so I told him to face me, and that made things easier. He was tight but by no means impenetrable, and with a little bit of nipple work and one or two strokes of his cock, I soon had all of my cock in him. I grabbed his hands and then lowered him backwards into X position, and he liked that, but when I started to play with his dick, he told me it got him too close, so I told him to lie on his back next to me, and then I got up and grabbed his ankles, pushing them up and back until they were nearly even with his ears, then I lined my cock up with his asshole and slowly, slowly pushed in. His eyes got so big I was afraid they'd explode, and then he just started panting and moaning and "Fuck me!" as I increased speed and pounded him harder and harder. Eventually it was too much for him, and we both wanted a bit of a break, so I pulled out and lay behind him, playing with his nipples. Before long, he was ready to sit on my cock again, bouncing up and down on it for a few minutes and getting ever more excited as I tweaked his nipples and ran my finger over the ridge of his cockhead.
At some point he stopped and said, "You're not even close, are you?" I shrugged, figuring that I could explain the whole thing after I got him off. He said he wanted to feel me cum, but I told him that I was going to make him cum, and he bounced up and down on my cock and I began to jerk his cock rapidly, and his load was shooting on my chest in less than thirty seconds. He collapsed backwards and just lay there for a minute, and then we started chatting, which is always weird but usually good, and he was significantly more articulate than I would have guessed from his emails, which is always good and not weird. I explained that I didn't really need to cum because I'd certainly be cumming later, and that I'd had a great time regardless, and he lay next to me and we kissed a little more and then we discussed real estate prices and he slipped back into his clothes and was soon on his way. He's only in town for a few months, but I reckon I'll hear from him again, though perhaps not for a few weeks. There are some guilt issues there, too, but they are not worth thinking about. He was a lot of fun and he lives nearby, but he's not the kind of guy who's worth missing if he doesn't show up again.
At this point, I would definitely miss RC if he didn't show up again, but I am still (still!) waiting to get into his ass. He was better rested and more energetic than usual (he's always good, though), but he said that he had been to see his dermatologist and that his condition was not contagious but would heal better if he waited another week before getting fucked. Then he told me how much he was looking forward to sitting on my cock, and then I kissed him and sucked on his nipples, and he forgot how to speak again. We were in bed by that point, but we'd started out with a nice session of necking on my new couch.
I reckon we played for ninety minutes in total, at least sixty of which were spent kissing and with me working his nipples. His desire for having his nipples played with is as inexhaustible as my desire for playing with his nipples, so that works out really well. He's also very cock hungry, at least for my cock, and he gives really, truly great head, so I spent a significant amount of time enjoying a really good bj, but I can never do that for too long without wanting to kiss him or play with his nipples. He really, really wanted me to cum, and I was extremely worked up from our session and from the three previous guys, so I was only too happy to gratify his desire. After an hour and a half, we lay next to each other and kissed as I finished myself off. I did my best to keep the cum on him, where he likes it, but I'm always a big shooter, and even more so when I'm worked up like that, so some of my ejaculate did end up on the curtains. Well, they're machine washable.
And then, after some post-ejaculatory cuddling, I asked him whether he'd eaten, and he hadn't (yay!) so we went out for Tex-Mex food, and the food and the conversation were really great. Sex followed by dinner is really the perfect date, especially when the guy's both sexy and intelligent. As it happens, if the guy's both sexy and intelligent, dinner followed by sex doesn't work all that well for me (although it can still be a great time), but that's another story.
Logically, I should be interested in pursuing a relationship with RC (he's smart and stable; he's a good conversationalist; he's kind; he is fighting a great battle; and OMG, the nipples!), yet I'm not, or at least I'm not interested in pursuing any relationship more involved than a friends-with-privileges one. He seems to be on the same page as I am on that score, and I don't know (nor really care) whether that's because his emotional reaction to me is similar to mine to him or just because he's too damned busy to pursue anything more serious. My emotional reaction to him, for the record, is that I like him a whole lot, especially when I'm with him, but I'm not swept away: there is not that sort of inability to keep the lid on my emotions that I believe to be an essential element of love. And in the past, whenever I've fallen in love (not always wisely), I've had that loss of control fairly early on. I know that some people are friends for a long time before they come to love, but it hasn't really worked that way for me. Maybe when I first met RC I was still so recently out of the relationship with b&c that I simply wasn't emotionally available and so missed my window of opportunity, or maybe I need the feeling to be reciprocated for it to exist in the first place (chicken-and-egg much?). Again, I don't know, but then, I have never given the attention to (nor had the success with) love that I have given to desire. This could, I suppose, be seen as a character flaw, but a) I don't see it that way, and b) I'm wise enough to know that it's the sort of thing that can change if the right man comes along at the right time. Not that I'm holding my breath or anything.
*The full quote, translated, apparently, from the Greek is something like, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle." It is often attributed to Plato on the Internet, but my research suggests that it was probably said by Philo of Alexandria.
A few evenings ago, I was lying in post-ejaculatory repose in OA's bed, watching him buzz about his bedroom in post-ejaculatory non-repose and explain to me about how his old friends who still live in the hood will never get out of the hood because they have only three kinds of role models -- NBA players, drug dealers, and rappers -- and these three sets of people are really all the same because each of them wants to be the other two. He explained it to me in great detail, which I can't remember at all now, and it all made sense while he was saying it: it was very like having the best seats imaginable for an August Wilson play.
The sex had been very good, too, of course, leaving me to wonder yet again whether a) the inevitable tension between two tops creates the best sex or b) I'm just besotted with his body and skills. I'm not sure it matters. It was his fantastic body that got me in trouble a minute or two later when he stood up to do something (the boy knows two speeds: full and asleep), and I said aloud how pretty he is.
In an unrelated but related matter, I recently spent about four hours proofreading EFU's thesis, and most of my criticisms had to do with word choice. Apparently, pretty is a bad one.
OA launched into a long explanation of why he hates being called pretty, and then we went through a series of other words that he doesn't like, and I think the only thing he agreed to was "handsome," though in retrospect, I didn't bother pitching either "hot" or "sexy," both of which are probably acceptable. OA wasn't angry at me: he was mostly just rolling his eyes at what he considers my rhetorical excess. I, in turn, was rolling my eyes at his horror of anything that smacks of femininity.
In fact, I hadn't heard from OA in about ten days before Monday. The last time I'd texted him, he'd said he'd be out of town for the weekend, and when I didn't hear from him the following weekend, I figured he'd lost interest when I hadn't been forthcoming with the bottoming thing. But then he texted me and asked how I was, and I replied, and he mentioned how much he'd like to get into my ass, and I said that I liked him and we had great chemistry but we could have great chemistry without ass fucking, and he said it wasn't the same thing, and I told him that the white bottoms with ample backsides who'd be thrilled to bottom for him were legion, and he told me that he liked me because I was "all man," and I thought, but didn't text, that maybe he wouldn't think that if I bottomed for him, and I asked him if he was free, and he said when, and at seven, I was pulling up to his place, and then two hours later, I was calling him pretty, and I guess I won't do that again.
I told OA that he was overly concerned with appearing non-feminine, and he said, "You're probably right," and I said, "Probably?" and he said, "Yeah, probably," and then I kissed him, and he made fun of me for liking to kiss so much, and I told him he shouldn't have such soft, fat lips if he didn't want them to be kissed, and he smiled, and I told him that he should really just understand that if I call him pretty, which I guess I won't do again anyway, it's just a compliment. When he started back in on the connotations, I told him that any word you use to describe someone carries another side: a primarily complimentary word carries a dark side; a primarily insulting word carries some positive connotations. I explained that when I said cute, I was focusing on the physical attractiveness; he told me he was focusing on the adolescent connotations. Then I told him that "adolescent" was also a mixed word: he was focusing on the immaturity side, but there was also the youthful energy side, but he, having never once in his life lacked youthful energy, couldn't quite get there.
And then he had to do laundry, so I got dressed and kissed him goodbye. I sure hope OA is a wave I can ride for a long time, but then again, when I thought he'd lost interest, I wasn't particularly upset. Too many fish in the sea, I reckon.
In point of fact, I have been having rather a good run of luck with attractive Black men lately, and while none of them has quite the combination of charm, energy, intelligence, and cis-positional tension that OA provides, they are all delicious, pretty even, and the rest of them have the virtue of being bottoms.
Ubercute, twenty-fourish Victor appears to have moved on, or perhaps I've moved on: it's not always easy to tell how things whimper out with fuckbuddies. He had encouraged me to call him to get together on a couple of occasions and then blew me off, and I decided that I preferred not to be the one doing the asking any more. I have seen him show up on more sites lately, and there are plenty of people on those sites who must be happy to pursue him and who are more available and closer for booty calls. I am often thwarted by geography, and surely the same thing will happen eventually with Zach, who eventually cannot help failing to appreciate the half-hour it takes to get to me.
For now, though, he doesn't seem to mind the drive, and when he was over last week, I took his usual moderate submission a step farther and buckled the wrist restraints onto him. I have decided to leave the wrist restraints tied to the ropes and the ropes tied to the bed posts on an indefinite basis. It's so much easier, and there are so many guys who accept them without protest. They further excited Zach, who got a little bit loud when I proceeded to put his ankles on either side of his ears and pound. Heaven.
Speaking of loud, I worried about hearing damage when I finally got a return visit from an exceptionally sexy married guy who had been with me a few months earlier. Prior to meeting me, he tended to go two years between hooking up with guys, so I reckon three months is something of a conquest. I also slid his wrists into the restraints and then proceeded to chow down on his nipples, and he began growling into my ear, and the growl grew into something of a shout, but not into a "No" so I just adjusted my position to protect my eardrum and kept chewing. He has a very interesting cock that's thick in the shaft but then much narrower at the base, so it's almost like a fruit on a tree. It's almost always fun to make guys cum when their upper bodies are restrained and they only have legs free to thrash. And it was certainly fun in this case. He had stopped growling by then, and I was kissing him when he shot. Awesome.
Speaking of awesome. In response to a craigslist ad, another drop-dead-gorgeous brick shithouse of a Black guy showed up at my door wearing a t-shirt indicating that he had once wrestled for an Ivy League college. The t-shirt turned out to be authentic, and while he said that it had happened a "long time ago," he appeared to have only improved with age. There had been some delay in communication -- I had thought that he might not be coming -- so he ended up getting to my place late. It was a Saturday night, and he slept over, but as it happened he had an engagement to play the piano for a church service the next morning, so he had to leave early, and there wasn't time for a morning fuck. Which was a shame: he had an ass that wouldn't quit, and he was a great kisser. Also moderately submissive, an educational consultant for the government, a former high school music teacher and choir director, and a really nice guy. Now there's a guy I'd date. Or I would if he weren't geographically and otherwise unavailable. He barely has time to hook up, let alone date. And to be honest, I don't know if he'd be interested if he did have time. Still, he appears interested in hooking up again, so maybe we'll do that again when our schedules align again. In 2012. Oh well.
Speaking of long intervals between drinks, Dennis emailed me in response to a similar ad. He was in Seattle, where he lives with his partner, but he had to come back to the area to attend his father's funeral and clean out his house. He'd lost my email address, but had, apparently, been watching CL, hoping for my ad to appear. He's very happy with his partner, who is a dedicated bottom, but Dennis wants to bottom occasionally (very occasionally), so he was excited about the prospect of playing with me. I was equally excited: I first played with him ten years ago, when he was in college, then I hadn't seen him for years after he moved away, and then we reconnected a few years back. He gets more and more handsome with time, and he's thirty now and has an amazing body. He had expressed some doubt about whether he'd be able to take my cock, but I knew from experience that I could open that ass. It was a very passionate session, and he, too, spent some time in the wrist restraints, though not until he'd gone down on me for an extended period, encouraging me to tell him what a good cocksucker he is.
Not everyone appreciates the restraints, and sometime last week a young (twenty-three or twenty-four, I think) guy whom I saw on one of the hook-up sites came over, and after we'd made out for a long time and I'd fucked him for a similarly long time, I decided to restrain him and get him off. He didn't resist, but I sensed there was an issue, so I asked, "Are these bothering you?" and when he replied, "Kinda," I took them off, then resumed sucking on his nipples and stroking him off until he screamed and came.
Yesterday, I had another hot dark-skinned guy in the same position, though without the restraints, since we were in his bedroom in Rehoboth, he having contacted me on Grindr (I hate that spelling). I had just installed the app, which I had not really expected to yield any results other than unproductive chatting, but this guy turned out to be all that plus a bottle of Tequila. (Speaking figuratively, of course: I am among the very few who go to Rehoboth and don't engage in any significant drinking.) He had a looooong cock, and after we'd made out extensively and I'd chewed his nipples to the point of screaming and tenderness and he'd gone down on me, I put him on his back and chewed his nipples some more while I stroked him until he screamed and screamed some more and then shot a huge load all over his stomach and my face. He was hard again half an hour later when I finally left, but almost immediately after he came, he got up to fetch a towel, and I asked him to either let me use it or find another way to get the cum off my face, so he licked it off. Then we cuddled for as long as he could stay still (not very long) and then he insisted on giving me a massage and then I told him that I really had to get on the road and then we kissed a little more and then there was the looooong cock, all erect again, but I had to leave. He wants to see me again, and I got an email inviting me back for an entire weekend. He's a composer, and he's grrrrrreat! in the sack, but, well, that's a long way to go for a romp, and: traffic. We'll see.