Monday, 13 February 2017

Reaping what you sow...?

So it's no secret that I'm on the apps often, or, to even the most casual reader of this blog, that I have a variety of sexual partners.  However, events of the past few days have sorta caused me to pause and reflect on my behavior (maybe), and wonder what I've become.

After getting hopelessly drunk the other night, I awoke to find a number of messages from the Driver, hoping to pass by.  At 3am...  Beyond this, I had planned a quiet weekend.  Until my phone beeped again at 10pm the next night.  It was the harus, desperate for a blow job, demanding I get in my car and go to him (he can't/won't come to me), followed by an awkward video call where he jerked off on camera, shouting "I know you like this" into the mike as he did so.  Just as I get rid of him, the phone beeps again, and it's the Soldier, telling me he misses me and can we meet again.  He then tells me he finishes at 1am, so he'll be with me by 02:00 if that's ok?  I tell him it's not.  He's put out, and starts sending me dick pics, before petulantly ending our conversation.  That his uniform was clearly visible was quite hot, but not hot enough.  Likewise, the Bro has been in regular contact, hopeful we can meet - again at odd hours - but our diaries haven't gelled.

Am I really 'that guy'?  The older go-to for a quick one?  Fuck I hope not - maybe it's a good thing my contract is up, perhaps I'm getting out of Dodge just in time...

New positions, old problems...

It's the weekend, and I've ducked beachhouse invites.  The Syrian, as always, is keen to catch up, and we agree he'll come to my place late in the afternoon.  This is my favourite time for sex - lunch has been digested, the 'hangries' haven't kicked in yet, and I'm not bloated after dinner.  Plus I'm horny as fuck.  My doorbell goes just a few minutes before he's due, and I open it with a flourish, wearing just a t-shirt and jocks, much to the surprise of the man delivering my dry cleaning.  Maintaining my cool, I grab my wallet, pay him, thank him, and vow never to do that again.  When the Syrian does arrive, I'm somewhat more demurely attired (or at least I'm in trackpants), and he enters quickly, sweeping me into his arms and we remain in the foyer, kissing at length.

We eventually move to the couch, I make tea, we kiss, we talk, we smoke and we watch bad TV.  Then he tells me he's not eaten, so let's have some fun then head out for a bite.  I'm good with that, so in we go to the bedroom, where he lands across the bed and I lie down beside him, prime for a 69, but I'm not letting him do that yet.  I want to pleasure him, so I sit up and kiss him gently, then drop my head to his lap, gently licking his balls, running my tongue over them and up his stirring shaft, nipping his inner thighs and repeating this until he's shuddering and spasming.  He grabs my head and drags me off him, flipping me to my back and climbing atop me, kissing me wildly as his hands roam my body, eventually dropping his own head down and beginning to blow me.  It's good, very good, and I wriggle myself a little to the left so I can take his own cock in my mouth and the 69 does begin.

He's all over the place, sucking, licking and biting me, then he cocks a leg into midair and dives into my ass.  As I arch back in pleasure, I see he's got one leg wrapped around my head, and the other resting on the top of the bedhead, perilously close to some artwork.  Acrobatic indeed.

He eventually gets me onto my stomach, and after suiting up and a good squirt of lube he once again wraps his arms around my chest and enters me.  As I said, I want him to have some fun, but it's really quite painful as I endure his thrusts, but I grit my teeth and persevere - he soon rolls me to my back, my legs around his waist, and begins once more.  I think this is one of our favorite positions - we can kiss as we fuck, I'm in no discomfort and he can bang as hard as he likes.

But, I'd seen something in one of the pornos, and I want to try it.  I sit him on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, then lie him back.  Facing forward, my hands on his knees, I lower myself onto his cock and sink downwards.  The roar and gasp from behind tells me he's enjoying, but I found it too deep for comfort.  Keen to experiment, I held position, riding him up and down a bit, leaning forward, backward and so on, but always that deep gut-stirring pain.

I climbed off him and turned around, straddling his hips and kissing him as I maneuvered him back inside me, and I began to rock back and forth on his shaft, kissing him and sucking his ears (gross, but he loves it).  He starts to buck and thrust, one hand on my chest, pushing me back against his drawn knees, the other jerking me off, and I have a full-on shuddering orgasm, striping his chest with my cum and leaving me breathless and gasping.

He quickly withdraws and unsheathes, and with both cocks in hand he milks the last of me and creates his own explosion, drawing me down into an embrace as we catch our collective breath.  We lie together for quite awhile, feeling each others breathing normalize, then he gently pats my rump and tells me it's shower time.

We bathe together and dress in relative quiet, exchanging the occasional kiss as our paths cross in the bedroom, then head out for dinner.

After the meal we go for a walk - my thoughts clouded with the old problem of the looming end to a relationship, his (I thought), by a need for caffeine.  We find a place back near my hotel, but he won't go in.  I mentioned once before what a classist society we live in here, and the Syrian is acutely aware of this.  For those who aren't from the region, it's remarkably easy to identify and differentiate between the various Middle Eastern nationalities and, despite his job and income, he knows where he's pegged on the social scale.

"They will look down on me" is what he says, but from the Lambos, G-wagens and Ferraris parked out front, I suspect any of us might feel the same.  I shrug and we move on maybe 50m, where there is a much quieter spot - an outside table is obtained, coffee is ordered and he produces some cigars.  We sit in relative silence for the duration, talking of frivolous matters occasionally, and as we settle the bill, he smiles wistfully and sighs.  "I shall miss you so much habibi" he says.  Then he wipes a tear from his eye, bids me goodnight and walks to his car without looking back.

I am devastated by this.  I chase him and ask what he means.  He looks surprised and reminds me I'd mentioned some time back my contract was almost up.  "So let us enjoy what we can, while we can" he says as he climbs into the vehicle and drives away.  I went upstairs and got outrageously drunk...

Sadly inevitable, and inevitably sad...

It seems my relationship with the Engineer has come to an end.  Despite agreeing he would pass by a week or two back, I didn't hear from him.  We had agreed some while ago (I thought), that as I was relatively free, he would let me know when his work/family/study timetable permitted us to get together, and I would wait for him to hit me up whenever he could.  It seems he had a different perception, and was waiting for me to invite him over.

After two weeks silence, and repeatedly seeing him on my grid as being just half a mile away, I dropped him a message and asked if I'd upset him.  "Yes" was his single word response, so I quickly replied, telling him of my sorrow at this and my version of our understanding (that I'd wait etc.), but I received nothing for 24 hours, at which point I got a torrent of abuse.  He feels I've "ignored and betrayed" him, preferring to "meet with others".  He lives quite close to the Syrian, and when I was there recently he saw me online, thus assuming I'm "dating others now".  Hoo boy.  I apologize again, but have received nothing from him for a week.

Initially I was kind of outraged that he a) had been stalking me, and b) demanded a justification of my behavior, but that's softened into a kind of sadness that hopes this jealousy is a form of perhaps his feelings for me?

I really don't know how to make this right, or even if I will.  I've been unofficially informed my tour in this godforsaken country will come to an end quite soon, and am merely waiting for the formalities.  Thus, after almost 7 years here, and 5 years of fun and, dammit, affection, it's unlikely I'll ever see him again.  To whisper 'sweet nothings' to sort this situation out, then to end it just a matter of weeks later doesn't feel right.

But he's clearly hurt, and I'm kinda sad about that...


Sunday, 12 February 2017

Double Head(er), part 2

After the Soldier has left, I confirm with the Persian.  He arrives at the appointed time, keen to watch some porn and to play.  At his request, I've downloaded a selection from "Men at Play", which he finds incredibly hot, bucking and shuffling on the couch before he reaches across and draws me into his arms.   We lay snuggled together for a bit, idly watching the film, the Persian occasionally commenting on 'how hot' certain scenes might be.  Before long he sits up and peels off his shirt, drawing my face to his chest and telling me to start biting and sucking his nipples.  This I do, his hands roaming over me and working their way into my trousers, squeezing my ass and roughly fondling my balls.

Soon enough, he wants to move to the bedroom, and we head in and strip off, falling onto the bed together as we kiss and grind our bodies together.  He's on a mission however, and my head (or more to the point, my teeth), are directed back to his pecs and nipples.  He wants to be licked, nipped, bitten and sucked in that area, even declining a blow job, so I work my way up, down and across, the whole time his body twitching and shuddering.  He has also intentionally draped his head backwards over the edge of the bed, telling me the ensuing dizziness adds to his pleasure.  It's kinda weird making out with what seems to be a headless body, but I get a rhythm going and he's quite vocal in his pleasure.

As I lie atop him, I begin to suck on his nipple, imitating the motions of a suckling baby.  This drives him over the edge, and as he clutches my head and bucks his body, I feel a sudden warmth and wetness where our bodies meet.  Yes, he's shot his load.

He's done, but I'm not.  He comes back properly onto the bed and sits me astride him, encouraging me to jerk off and shoot my load all over his chest.  I'm nowhere near this point yet, but he reaches down and begins to massage by balls as I stroke myself, his increasing roughness making me harder and harder, and suddenly that shiver runs through me and I drop a weeks worth onto his hairy chest.

He's delighted by this, rubbing the cum into himself and apologizing we never got to actually fuck, then it's time for him to shower and leave.  So he does...

It's not yet 10pm, and I'm still horny.  Hoping for maybe a triple play, I put out a few calls, but all are busy it seems, except for the Harus.  However, he's come over all shy and will no longer visit my hotel.  I live in a very structured society - my own security guys have correctly tagged him as 'rough trade' and treat him accordingly.  Thus, he only wants to have sex in the car, and that's a little too low, even by my standards...

Sunday, 5 February 2017

Double Head(er), part 1

So my week has been quiet (again).  A few hits on the apps, but nothing of interest.  All are either too short (sub 5'6"), or too heavy (200lbs +), and, far too often, both!  I'm neither shortist nor weightist - it's just a question of a good physical fit when doing the deed, so don't judge...

However, one guy has been persistent.  He's actually pretty nice on paper (28, 6'2", 185lbs) , and after some chat he sends through a pic, quickly followed by a face pic.  Dammit, he's handsome as well!

Turns out the guy is a serving soldier, and a bi-curious top.  He's keen to meet, and I've got bupkes happening, so why not.  The Persian guy is also messaging me almost daily, but the sex with him has been kinda hard work, so I stall him 'till I get this guy sorted.

After some chat, the Soldier asks "how about now", and as it happens I am just finishing at work so I agree.  We meet at a coffee shop v close to my place, and I point at my building and ask if he wants to head there or stay and grab a coffee, and he smiles and gestures towards my home.

As we walk, he tells me of his recent trips to France and the UK, and how much he loves the men there, and this chat continues as we ride in the elevator and into my living room.  Once the door closes, he's all business.  He grabs my shoulders and turns me around, pretty much frisking me, his hands lingering on my crotch and squeezing my ass, then he steps back and heads for the couch, requesting some water.  As he sits and sips, we talk some more, then I ask him what he'd like to do.  "Get my cock sucked" is his reply, so I gesture to the bedroom and he's off like a rabbit, stripping as he goes, and throwing himself onto the bed.  I likewise undress and climb onto him, but he won't kiss, preferring to continue his exploration of my body with his hands only, my head being eventually guided to what seems to be a pretty normal cock.  I do what I do, and it begins to grow.  And grow.  As I lick it, I actually run out of saliva along the length and have to start again, and as I lift my head, I see his tip is lying maybe an inch past his navel, so I'm not surprised to have to 're-wet'...

He knows it's a monster, and is pretty skilled at working it in my mouth without making me gag, and I continue to suck him for some time before he shuffles his body up the bedhead and starts to bounce his hips, finally pushing me aside and standing beside the bed.  As I sit n suck, he's got the back of my head in his hands, his hips bucking into me, but it's too much and I do start to gag.  So he drags me off the bed onto the floor, then lifts me to my knees.  Still standing, he jams his cock back into my mouth, and I manage to deep throat him, but after repeated thrusts I start to gag again.  He doesn't like this at all, and reaching down, he begins to spank me, the sound of the slaps echoing in the room as I mumble and slurp at my task.

He pauses for a moment to ask if I want to eat his load or wear it on my face, but then shrugs - "too late" he says as he unleashes in my mouth, his prodding cock forcing me to swallow a surprising small and taste-free load.

He then literally swings his leg over my head and walks to the bathroom, cleaning up, dressing and exiting without uttering another word...

As it's barely 5pm, I decide I can meet the Persian, and message him in the affirmative.