Sunday, 18 June 2017

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...

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