Sunday, 30 July 2017

A reunion, of sorts, then an ending...

Since we last met, the Swimmer has been in constant contact.  He's becoming quite possessive, and more than a little stalky - checking my profiles a number of times a day, sending repeated Whatsapp messages, then follow-ups complaining I haven't read the prior ones when "he knows I've been online".  As my time here comes to a close, I've been largely occupied with social gatherings (a surprising number of people wish to meet before I leave), and have had little time for hook-ups.  However, I do have an early meal one evening and am home at a reasonable hour when he messages me again, and we agree to meet.

He arrives, and initially wishes to sit in my lap and talk, then we begin to kiss, then we move to the bed.  He once again keen to get blown, then he flips me over and starts to slide his cock up and down my slot before suiting up and entering me.  He's pretty quick, and soon dumps his load on my back, thereafter leading me to the shower and washing me, all the while complaining that I am leaving just as we've met, and how different things could have been if I were to stay.

TBH though, things wouldn't be different.  His possessiveness, jealousy, and frankly ordinary bed skills are not enough to compensate for the enjoyable chats we have, and I've tired of it all.

It's now my turn to use monosyllables as responses, and when he messaged after midnight last night I didn't reply until this morning.  This apparently drove him nuts, and this morning I received a recriminatory phone call from him, questioning my movements over the past 72 hours, and wanting to know why I delayed answering him last night.  I tell him he doesn't really have the right to interrogate me like this, and he replies by asking me to delete his number.  I tell him to consider it done, wish him well and end the call.

Sunday, 2 July 2017

Sleepover, with a twist...

So I'm planning to spend the night at the Syrian's, but we're getting on for 8pm and he hasn't opened my messages.  I'm not sure what's going on, but I chill and watch some TV (The Leftovers - very good!).  The day has been trying - record temperatures accompanied by a glaring sky, and I'm happy to be in my air-conditioned aerie.  My phone beeps, and it's him, telling me he'd been sleeping, felt like crap, and would talk to me later.  Ok then.

An hour or so passes, and he messages again.  His fast is over, and after coffee and a shower, he's ready to eat and wants to visit a restaurant near my home.  He'll pick me up in an hour.

We go to the restaurant, in my head just two guys out together, but we're getting knowing looks from the stupidly hot Egyptian waiter, and I'm curious what he suspects - the Syrian is a regular patron, and was greeted with many kisses and declarations of affection by more than one staff member, but I let it slide.  We finish our meal (after being ushered to a 'better' spot for tea and cigarettes), and start a lazy wander around the souk, buying a few things here and there along the way.  Suddenly, the hot Egyptian is heading towards us through the crowd, smiling and waving, and I'm wondering what's going on.  The Syrian has recently expressed an interest in a 3sum, and I'm thinking maybe the guy has been lined up - however that's not the case.  We'd left a zippo on the table, and it was simply being returned.

We head to another spot for coffee, and then back to my place.  The Syrian immediately removes his jeans and flops on the couch, casually enquiring if I have any whisky, and we sit and talk as we drink and smoke in our underwear.  Eventually, he stretches and nods to the other room.  "Bed"? he asks, so we go inside.

He and I indulge in a few hours of kissing, sucking and rimming, the Syrian adopting some rather acrobatic poses, but his dick keeps going soft (highly unusual btw).  He complains of the heat, and I walk out to the living room to adjust the temperature (noting with interest my cock is more upright than I've seen it in a while), and I see that the thermostat is blank.  The damned thing has malfunctioned.  Suddenly the Syrian goes all manly, determined to repair it, and having replaced the batteries it springs back to life.  From a standard temp of 72f, it's skyrocketed to 87f in the flat, and we spend a little time just resting as the temperature normalizes.

Finally, things cool to a point where the Syrian is ready to play, and my own cock has stayed determinedly upright, so I ask him to climb aboard.  He suits me up, then slowly lowers himself onto me, grimacing a little, then bottoming out and smiling.  He leans forward to kiss me, but cries out and clambers off.  He suddenly 'must' have a cigarette, but I ask for another go at his ass, and he flops to his stomach and parts his legs.  I dive straight onto him, thrusting my cock into his already lubed hole, and start a gentle fuck, but he's squirming too much and I keep sliding out.  I flip him to his back, and throw his legs over my shoulders, bucking hard into him.  He gasps, then starts to tap his jaw.  I know that to kiss him there sends him to jelly, so I oblige as I fuck, and he's moaning in both pleasure and pain.  I get to the edge and withdraw, removing the condom and spraying my load over his chest, which has him in raptures.  "So hot" he keeps murmuring as he massages it into his chest, the occasional finger transporting some of my cum to his mouth.

I'm still straddling him, panting a little, when out of the ether we hear the gentle call of the mosque.  Imsek has been announced, and all observers must now re-commence their fast.  He bolts out of bed, desperate to get that last cigarette, after which we snuggle down together for sleep...