Housesitting

Last week I posted a CL ad on a lark and had a number of bites.  Some seemed feasible, but there was also the standard myriad of people who failed to respond with pics, as I'd asked; or who advised me that they couldn't host, after I'd indicated that I couldn't; or who wanted me to drive an hour to hook up.  You'd have to think like such guys to actually understand their behavior, so it's important to feel thankful rather than irritated and attempting to figure them out.  However, it's a time suck, but then you invite it when you post an ad.

One response came from a toney town close by, and the respondent got to the point.   When I read the out of region area code I suspected I knew who it might be, but the town in question wasn't where I remembered (a deliberate plausible diversion on his part.)  When I called to get the address it was a deja vu moment ; albeit, a good (well "goodish") moment.  I liked that it was 15 minutes away; I liked that it was a good neighborhood; I liked that I know the guy likes to get bred but is clean; I liked knowing what to expect.

We'd last connected two years ago, several times, when he was housesitting at this same address.  Afterwards he'd called me several times at inconvenient times (like when I was at work in the middle of a meeting) and seemed bruised when I couldn't take the call, assuming I wasn't interested.  Other times when he called I was out of town on business, or in a restaurant with friends (it's called texting guys/it is less intrusive.)  Anyway, we lost contact.

When I called he only vaguely remembered me (I wasn't bruised) but felt secure inviting me over.  When I arrived I saw that he'd shaved at least 10 years from the age he indicated in his response (come on:  5 is expected; 10 makes you worry about what else he's lying about.)  A fittish, 60+ guy with a shaved head and a stylish chick teaser (for an otherwise decidedly unstylish guy.)  He looks like a vet and this was confirmed by some VA paperwork on the floor; he's some how in technology sales, divorced with grown kids and has a current middle aged woman friend.

He wasn't into kissing, which about kills half of it for me (okay, you are going to suck my dick and let me bareback fuck you and shoot my load into your hole, but kissing is too intimate?)  I think in this case that kissing might be actually be admitting wholeheartedly enjoying gay sex.  Not kissing, I inferred, might leave him the illusion of being a  guy who just happens to like sucking cock and getting fucked but is still "straight."  Whatever...

Among  his quirks (and, yes, we all have them) he saves his crotch (which I hate/it looked absurd, like the cock and balls of a 13 year old attached to an older man.)  His cock never got fully hard (a function of age and a hernia operation that I learned about today.)  It's probably nice on the occasions it get fully hard, but then it was like sucking linguine al dente. At the same time he likes (practically demands) that you work both of his nipples throughout.  The foreplay definitely wasn't doing it for me.  So I rolled him onto his stomach and started to eat his ass.

Kudos to him that as a "straight" guy he flushes his ass out properly (usually "straight" guys don't know how to do it properly and withdrawing you end up with skid marks/a definite buzz kill.)  I was getting off on how he was responding to getting rimmed, but was getting irritated that he wanted steady nipple tweaking throughout, which kind of made me feel like a mechanic.  When we got business he reached for some Vaseline (yikes!)  Fortunately I had proper lube in my cargo shorts.  I gradually eased in and he was enjoying it but it was one of those fucks where the bottom is constantly clamping his cheeks together and thrusting back instead of letting the top do the fucking.  Fortunately I hadn't cum, the switch quickly flipped, I dumped my load and gracefully got up, sponged off, and got out.

Today I went through a string of fuck buddies (one clearly not in the mood after suggesting this morning and then getting pissed off when I called him on it; another who didn't text back/another story; the Arab has company; another had roomies home.)  I wanted to get off and thought, give the house sitter another try (okay, I was looking for a clean warm hole; I admit it!  Mea culpa!)  So I texted him and got an immediate call back and had to remind him who I was (not Alzheimer's/he didn't recognize the number) and he was hot to trot.  So 30 minutes later I was there.

It was more relaxed this time.  He embraced me and began to kiss my neck and to suck on it.  He laid back on the bed and clearly wanted to be sucked and was quite responsive, but the noodle was pretty limp despite my working his balls, stroking his taint, and pressing my thumb against his hole while working the uber sensitive nipple.  In other words, I pulled all the tricks out of the bag.  From the responses you'd think he was steel hard, dripping and ready to paint the ceiling.  At a certain point we got into a 69, which isn't my fav but I wanted to see if we could improve the experience and was determined to be patient.

Well I thought, it's time to take care of me.  I rolled him on his stomach and gave him a killer rim job.  He was now putty in my hands and I grabbed the lube I brought, slicked us both up and g r a d u a l l y eased into him.  He exhaled with gusto and then curled his head back and pressed his lips against mine and pushed his tongue to my mouth and then accepted mine in his.  Progress!

He let me fuck him today, and it was nice.  He refrained from the manic clenching of his ass and allowed me to find his prostate and then work it with my cockhead while he thrashed and moaned underneath me.  So he let the top be the top and both of us were happy.  I decided not to prolong it and let it go when I felt my load rising; I found it interesting that he immediately knew (probably my cock got harder and my thrusts changed as I came yesterday so it wasn't like he was getting a 1/4 cup or anything.) Then he bent his head back and kissed me again (!)  He wanted me to stay in him and I remained penetrating him supported by my arms and hands and as my cock began to gradually grow slack I pulled him onto his side to spoon.

At a certain point he tried to remount me, but I was then soft.  He then astonished me by curling around and starting to suck my cock (so I knew he had to be clean and clearly knew what he was doing.)  Still I didn't get hard; it was much better than last week, but the scene wasn't entirely pushing my buttons.  He was mellow, got on his side and engaged me in small talk.

I was really ready to don my shorts and tee shirt and get out, but I thought I at least owed him the civility of conversation.  It was pretty boring, but he's a nice guy and was clearly working at it.  While we discussed mutual travel I noticed out of my peripheral vision that he was stroking himself (but still soft.)  He gradually started to stroke my thigh.  Then after a good interval he curled around and started to suck me and I willed myself to get hard (actually with little effort.)  He then got on his knees and straddled me, asked me to work his nips and started to vigorously stroke his essentially soft cock.  I looked up at him and noted that he was in very good shape; defined pecs, broad shoulders, muscular neck, narrowish waist.  Twenty years ago he surely turned heads.  His eyes are brilliant blue and it was a pleasure watching him writhe in pleasure massaging his guts with my cock.  It was working for me and I was imagining the possibility of giving him a second load, and then I saw his eyes roll back and watched as a large load oozed out of his not hard dick (I have seen this before and it always astonishes me as I need to be steel hard to cum.)  After his spasming he lifted himself up and dismounted (clearly not a lot of practice as he didn't ease off and I could tell he regretted it that he'd not eased off me gradually; I practically heard a pop sound when it came out and he grimaced.) 

Next thing I noticed he was grabbing a pair of boxers and heading to the bathroom to get me a wash cloth; hysterical.  A guy isn't in a hurry until he shoots his load, then it's "I've got stuff to do."

Well, I was aokay with that.  I could have gone for a second course (and later did elsewhere) but it's no fun unless the bottom is the instigator.  Anyway, I was glad I went back as it proved my memory wasn't flawed.  And, better yet, he's housesitting for another month and it is very conveniently on my commute.