Wednesday, 21 June 2017

Quiet, gentle passion...

The Civil Servant unexpectedly drops me a line.  He's back in town visiting, and is keen to catch up.  However, family obligations during the fasting month keep him busy for a few days, but we eventually identify a date to meet.  He arrives as expected, and again I'm surprised at how handsome he is (and how short..), but it's great to see him again.

In just one of the many, many inconsistencies observed during this month, he declines alcohol so we drink copious amounts of tea as we talk.  He's been experimenting with yet more drug related 'healing', and tells me at length of the experiences (physical, emotional and mental), he underwent in a candle-lit Brooklyn warehouse, before moving on to the details of his newly founded business.  It's actually a really nice conversation - I find my time with him somehow invigorating, and we in fact talk for hours.  He goes to the bathroom, and on his return he pauses behind the couch I am sitting on and begins to gently massage my shoulders, asking if perhaps we'd like to move 'inside'.

We lazily strip as we continue talking, each climbing onto the bed from opposite sides and meeting with a kiss in the centre.  There's no hurry, no urgency, we simply continue to chat as we kiss, hands roaming, his cupping my balls, mine gently stroking his butt cheeks, and we end up spooning, my cock pressed into his slot, my breath in his ear and my arms wrapped around his chest, when he rolls back and kisses me.

As we do, I am now on my back, and he begins to assume a more dominant and active role, his beard dragging across my face as we kiss, the feel of his cock against mine, and he works his way down my torso, eventually licking my balls and repositioning himself so that we are in a 69.  We continue with this for some time, then he breaks away and comes back to kiss me on the mouth, his hands stretching out to the nightstand for lube and condoms.

Suiting up, he keeps me on my back and draws up my legs, telling me that he wants to look at me as we fuck, then he slowly enters, dropping his head and kissing my chest as he does.  It's a strange sensation - he's inside me, yet outside me as I hold him, the connection somehow deeper than merely physical, and our bodies seem melded.  He's gently undulating his body, never leaving my embrace, and all too soon he pauses and shudders, eventually withdrawing and taking the loaded condom to the trash.  He returns, then notes the time.  He has but an hour to get home and eat before his fast starts, so it is with regret we bid farewell...

 

Sunday, 18 June 2017

Standard meet, but... (2/2)

Over the next day or so, the Swimmer sends me a few messages, calls once or twice, then invites himself over that evening.  I've already arranged to meet with the Indian guy, more for a catch-up and possible sex than anything else, and we're on the couch together talking and drinking for hours.  I delay the Swimmer as I don't want the Indian guy to get the 'bum's rush'.  He's a nice guy and I genuinely enjoy his company, and I'm kind of toying with the idea of a threesome, but it doesn't go anywhere.

As always, the Swimmer is right on (delayed) time, but he enters, and stares at the Indian guy.  I kiss him in greeting, and tell him the Indian guy "is cool with that", but it's somehow awkward and the poor Indian decides to leave.  I feel pretty shitty about this, and as soon as he's left, the Swimmer asks me the last time I had sex, not so subtly implying that I'd already had a session with the Indian.  I tell him otherwise, and he's mollified.  I ask if he got all his calls sorted, as he seemed quite stressed, and he replied "yes, you know why", but I don't, and he won't elaborate.

So we sit and chat for a bit, then he stands and takes my hand, leading me to the bedroom, jokingly telling me not to look as he strips - he's "quite shy", then he roars with laughter.  We get horizontal, and as we kiss, he tells me, in a serious voice, that he was horrified I had had sex with someone else, that he really feels we shouldn't be seeing other people, and the thought that I might have had another mans cum on me was abhorrent to him.  I'm then informed there must be "at least" 48 hours between my last meet and seeing him!  A bit much from a guy who's on Growlr almost constantly, but he's a local and they're just weird.

He has no interest in anal sex tonight, just wanting me to suck him off (again), and I'm getting a little tired of the non-reciprocity, so we conclude and after some further chat, he departs.  Tonight he does call me, telling me he wants to 'wank me off', and he can't wait to see me cum again, and we agree to meet over the upcoming weekend.  I have already agreed to meet the Syrian, so tell him of this, and nominate another night.  He's unhappy, but agrees, however on the day sends me a 'can't come' message, with all subsequent communications bordering on monosyllables...  I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, and presume he's busy, so don't put too much store in this.  Let's see what happens after the weekend...

Standard meet, but... (1/2)

the Swimmer arrives right on time, and as he enters he pauses to take a large inhale.  He loves the fact my apartment smells faintly of cigarettes (a fact I wasn't aware of, and find mortifying), as it reminds him of the shisha bars he frequents.  Apparently, only 'boys' smoke cigarettes, and 'real men' take the pipe.  Ok...  Having said that, one of the things I like most about him is his idiomatic English.  He clearly speaks it fluently (3 years in the Midlands apparently), and he's able to moderate his voice to deliver sarcasm in an entirely appropriate fashion.

Anyway, we blob around on the couch for a bit, catching up and chatting, then he climbs over the couch and sits astride my lap to kiss me.  I like this, and it goes a long way to resolving our height difference, but he soon wants to hit the bed, and we duly go to the bedroom.

As previously, we kiss and talk a lot - he's very much the top, not touching my cock, but happy to kiss after I've blown him, so it's maybe a little one-sided, yet we persevere.  He delights in teasing me and finding new sensitive spots (I'm rather ticklish), again telling me 'only boys' suffer from this, and that 'men' don't, but it's all delivered with a cheeky grin, so I let it slide...

Eventually, I drop my head to his crotch and take his cock in my mouth, easily swallowing it and using a spit lubed finger to massage his hole, and he starts to pant, clenching his ring around my digit and mouth fucking me briefly, before he arches his back and unloads a torrent in my mouth.  I suck him dry, then move my mouth up his body, kissing and nipping as I do, when he grabs my head and drags me up to kiss, working his tongue into my mouth and sucking the saliva out.  So he's happy to snowball, but won't touch me?  Hmmm...

Flopping back beside me, I'm instructed to jerk off as he rather roughly massages my balls, but I'm really not feeling it, so I tell him not to worry.  He's disappointed, and I shrug, telling him I'd already had sex that day and it was ok (I didn't mention I hadn't shot though).

At this, he's seemingly electrified, and climbs out of the bed, heading for the shower.  He emerges, and dresses, then picks up his phone.  Frowning, he tells me he has 5 missed calls and literally runs out the door, with barely a farewell.  His habit is to call me from the car and talk some more as he drives home but when he doesn't call me tonight, I'm surprised/not surprised as I assume he's catching up with the missed calls.  But no...