So, yeah, I haven't posted here in a while, and I don't really have any compelling reasons for the silence. Non-compelling reasons include the following:
1. It seems like it's harder to swipe pictures off flickr these days. I mean, I get the whole intellectual property thing, but it's not like I was making money from using those pictures. Also, it's probably still possible, so that probably boils down to:
2. Laziness. You'll note the lack of pics in this post. Sorry. I like them, too.
3. I really like writing about my sex life, but after a while it started to seem like all my sex sounded the same. You'll notice that about both fictional (which mine is not) and non-fictional (which mine is) pornography in general, I think, and it kind of makes sense. If you find practices that reliably give you great joy no matter how many times you do them (I'm guessing at this point that I've eaten a couple of hundred different asses over the past nine or ten years, and the two I ate on Tuesday were every bit as good as the ones I ate when I was first starting out. Not that they're all that great, but a good ass is timeless.), then you're going to keep doing them, right? I mean the Hare Krishnas don't get up some days and say, "Hey, let's chant the preamble to the Constitution today for a change of pace!" Or at least I presume they don't. Anyway, I don't generally find good sex in any way monotonous, and when I do, it just means that it's time to fuck someone else for a session or two. Which reminds me:
4. I've been dating the same guy since November, and he's been taking up a fair amount of my time. And I don't really want to write about my sex life with him, just because I'm pretty sure he'd see that as a betrayal and tacky. Mostly tacky. I will mention, though, that this guy (whom I generally refer to as That Guy) has been warning me since about the second date (Which, arguably, could be the third date since apparently he and I hooked up about three years ago when I was still living with b&c; when we met again this past November, I remembered him, but I didn't actually remember the sex. Oops.) that if things between us progressed to a certain point, then he would demand exclusivity. I am extremely ambivalent about this notion of exclusivity. On the one hand, That Guy is the bomb. He's extraordinarily attractive, and I sometimes refer to him as Catnip just because when I'm in his presence I almost invariably feel intoxicated (and not just because he's always plying me with cocktails and I'm not much of a drinker). On the other hand: exclusive, really? I just honestly don't see the point of it. But it's very clear that That Guy sees the point and that it's very important to him. Or that it would become very important to him at some point. He and I have very different views of sexuality. I would characterize his position as more stereotypically feminine. He has not, for instance, had sex with anyone else since we started dating. I had been pretty sure of this fact (without wanting to bring it up because I just don't want to encourage him to utter the E-word) since about a month into dating him, but he told me so explicitly a couple of weeks ago. Also, he has a slower arousal response than most guys, including -- especially -- me. By which I mean that for the first couple of months we were dating, it was sometimes difficult to get him to bed, presumably because he wasn't emotionally invested. Now if I'm over at his place on a weeknight, I'm lucky if I can get out of there at 11 (having arrived at 8) and without fucking a third (or possibly fourth; I lose track sometimes) load out of him. Anyway, we've always gotten along terrifically out of the sack, and the sex has been getting better and better (two or three months ago I'd have said that I'd never agree to an exclusive arrangement just because the sex wasn't all that), and I do find it very hard to say no to any bottom who knows nine languages, so we'll just have to see how that goes.
But the exclusivity thing -- if it ever arrives -- is clearly in the future, so I've continued to be fairly active, sort of like I'm having a clearance sale. Everything must go! So, for example, when I took my post-busy season quickie trip to NYC, I was in the city for less than forty-eight hours and had seven different guys, a couple of which weren't even quickies. (I have noticed, however, that NYC guys are on a much faster pace in all areas. At least five of those guys told me that they didn't usually come that fast but that they did because I was just so hot. Oh, puh-leeeze. I think even the guy who spent the night used that line on me. Twice.)
A more recent example: I believe it was this past Monday night. I had just gotten home and was doing a couple of household chores before heading over to That Guy's house for the evening, and I got a text message from David, an extraordinarily cute twenty-something Chinese-born local resident. He wanted to play, and I told him, sure, but it'd have to be a quickie because I needed to leave for That Guy's house by 7:30, and he said he would wait for later in the week, and I said, "Are you sure? You can have a lot of fun in twenty minutes," and he said he'd come over.
David, frankly, is not that great in the sack, in part because he's very inexperienced, and in part because he's convinced that he's a top. I have not yet had time to disabuse him of that notion, so while he occasionally will play with my cock as a matter of curiosity and/or jealousy (his own cock is quite small), he doesn't go down on it, and I don't get to fuck him. On the plus side, though, his body is pretty much a live wire, and the fact that his experience is mostly confined to drunken furtive fucks at the end of parties that he attends with his cousins (who -- he says -- don't know he's gay) means that he really appreciates (loudly) my experience, skills, and full range of bodily stimulation. Also, he has nice lips and kisses well. And, of course, there's that extraordinarily cute thing. But he never stays for a second orgasm, even though he's in his mid-twenties, and he doesn't make any real effort to get me off, so half an hour of him is usually just about the right amount of time, and twenty minutes is plenty.
In this particular case, I started eating his ass on the stairway up to the bedroom, and he started moaning. I moved him to the bedroom, finished undressing him, and put him down on the bed, where I went after his small but very sensitive nipples. We made out briefly, and then I had him sit on my face. I continued to run my fingertips lightly along the sensitive parts (i.e., all) of his body, while I shoved my tongue deeply into him. Vocal writhing ensued. Eventually, I shoved my thumb into his ass and banged it hard against his prostate while I sucked on his cock. He got louder. A minute later, I swallowed his load. Small but sweet, kind of like his cock -- and him. I was still, mostly, in my work clothes. We chatted for a bit, I saw him out, and then I showered and headed off for a significantly more adult interaction with That Guy. David is a lot of fun in his way, but he's very much an amuse bouche. With time, he might progress to an appetizer or maybe a pasta course, but every time he comes over, I figure it might very well be the last, and I won't especially mind.
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