Napping

During my Northwestern sojourn I reconnected with my Indian friend (subcontinent, not indigenous.)  He is an interesting sort.  Passionate in bed, but laconic and almost aloof.   Early in our hook ups he bemoaned my not living nearby as he would have liked a relationship with me.  But, the last two or three times we have connected it has purely been no strings maintenance sex.  He's passionate when his clothes come off, but once he comes, or it is otherwise time for him to leave, he is totally detached and mentally gone as he's pulling on his clothes, with a cursory peck at the door.

The last two times I was in town I contacted him through the sites and he said he was seriously interested.  And, I got calls on my phone that were from a "unnamed" caller.  I was otherwise occupied (not necessarily fucking either, you smart asses) and then unable to reach him on the phone and inconveniently didn't find him on line.  As both were cameo visits this resulted in missed opportunities.  Disappointing, but it's not like I didn't have (and avail myself) of other opportunities.  However, the sex is comfortable and always pretty damned fine with this guy.  So I wrote him and said "it might facilitate matters if you left me your phone number:  after all,  I am not going to stalk you or share it and we're both discreet." 

Well, wonder of all wonders, he called and it was a disclosed caller.  However, I didn't recognize the number and didn't initially recognize the name of the heavily accented caller (he uses a European pseudonym:  probably both a function of discretion and American ignorance in refusing to master an Indian name.   My mechanic is Persian and was astonished by my calling him his actual name in Farsi; it's not like it's hard to do.  We don't need to homogenize everything.  However, I digress once again.)  But we set up a date.

Unfortunately I succumbed to the siren call of the Gamey guy (earlier recent entry) when I was supposed to connect with my Indian pal that evening; but having shot two afternoon loads I wasn't up for an encore that evening (and probably wouldn't have produced a load.  I have learned that bottoms, particularly guys who like it bare, want to experience the sensation of the top cumming; it's sort of a victory for them and receiving your load in their asses is their reward.  It's not just about that cylinder of flesh stretching them open and doing the prostate massage.)

My Indian fb was cool when I cancelled; we ended up connecting early evening two nights later.  He is a very handsome early 40's guy:   beautiful eyes, a head of dense ringlets, and body taut from regular exercise with moist dark bronze skin.  His cock is medium to small, but lovely.  However, he's not particularly interested in it being sucked or stroked:  he's there to get fucked, to have a warm load deposited in his rectum, and to spoon and cuddle afterwards.

As usual, the introverted man discovers his inner child when he strips off his clothes and  playfully runs across the room, rips up the covers, and dives underneath them, shyly grinning.   This is after we met at the door, we make out, and he opens my robe and grasps my engorging member.  I, in turn, drop the robe pull back the covers and climb into bed with him.  We make out under covers while we mutually stroke each other.  Wordlessly he rolls onto his stomach:  I know what he wants.  I pull back the bedclothes and proceed to eat his always immaculate ass and then to tease him with my cock head.

He's silent throughout:  changes in his breathing are his substitute for language:  I can tell when he wants me to penetrate him, both based on his breathing and how his body suddenly yields.  I hold still after penetrating as my cock is naturally pulled into him and then based on his breathing I gradually monitor when to feed more of it into him.

It was pretty evident it had been a while since he'd last been fucked; he was tight and I could hear some light gasps of discomfort that advised me to take it slowly; I eased out and applied more lube and went back in and we got into a rhythm.  However, it was evident he was pretty sensitive and getting sore.  He told me he didn't know if he could take it that much longer; so I eased out most of my cock and just left three inches inside him and very slowly massaged his entry:  gently pulling back and re-penetrating him.  His ass lightly gripped me and there was some nice friction for my cock head.   Just before I imagined he was going to call it quits I felt the switch flip and a load was spurting into him; shallow enough that I imagined it would be soon leaking out of him. 

He purred and pushed his back against my stomach and chest; we enjoyed the sensation of my softening cock in his now wet ass, and I wrapped my arms around him as I sucked on the back of his neck.  And then we both fell into a sound sleep.

For me, I suspect, it was a cat nap:  I don't imagine I was out any more than 20 minutes.  But my partner was seriously sawing logs:  I was listening to his snoring:  first soft and then with gusto.  After awhile the weight of his head was making my arm go to sleep so I very gradually adjusted my body so that I was still holding him but restoring some circulation.  At that point I wasn't entirely comfortable but I was enjoying it nonetheless as it was so sweet to feel his silky warm body and to listen to him enjoying his nap (shit, he was full on asleep.)  At a certain point, after he'd been out for over an hour I moved a good deal more:  I had to get up early the next morning and frankly I was tired of being immobile.  He woke up, looked at the clock and was astonished at how long it had been.

Without any thought to getting off, he jumped up, dashed to the bathroom to expel my load from his butt (discrete, but audible and apparently substantial.  While you'd like the bottom to want to keep it inside this was understandable, he was going commando) and was then quickly pulling on his clothes.  There was a chaste kiss at the door and he murmured about getting together the next two (my last two) nights in town.  However, it didn't happen.  He didn't check my messages on the sites, and I didn't choose to call (his voice mail is disabled) and he didn't ring me.  I did get a message from him a couple of days after I got home indicating he'd sought out a massage for his aching back and had nursed it but also hadn't checked his messages.  I am evidently on his mind as I noticed he was checking out my profile on one of the sites yesterday (when it occurred to me to tap this entry;  I suspect we were simultaneously on each others' minds.)

I haven't quite figured out his story:  I am imagining he must now have a boy (or girl) friend with whom he doesn't live:  hence, the serious caution about his phone and messages (though he has profiles on two of the sites, but then so do a lot of married and  "monogamously" partnered guys.)

Clearly I enjoy our time together, but it is definitely just all about getting that itch scratched.