Sunday, August 4, 2013

Late Night Performance

During a recent sojourn in LA I hooked up with an actor.  I had no idea he was an actor when we first started to communicate, and he's not someone readily identifiable (read famous.)  It was only after we curled together, both wet with cum, that I learned this and a few other things about him.  It is interesting that some times I like the guy a hell of a lot more after sex, when we both let go and share personal information.  I used to be super evasive about personal facts, but if a guy trusts you to put your bare cock in his ass I think he's entitled to some reciprocal trust, even if it's just sharing some of who you are.

We'd connected on line via one of the sites and then migrated to text.  He was at work during the day; I was off during the day but had an early evening engagement.  It progressed (regressed?) to tedious ping pong.   I indicated I didn't know if he was interested and he indignantly replied he was very interested and would connect with me late that night.  Uh huh.

Well I got back from my engagement a tad early and had a text from him asking if I had gotten back yet.  I responded and then he indicated a. he'd just been near my hotel but had just gotten home b.  he wondered if I was tired.  I responded that it sounded like he was tired and that I wouldn't be heart broken if he didn't want to come over.  He indicated he wasn't sure about anal, hadn't showered since the afternoon, might just want some oral to which I responded, "you indicated that you like to bottom and I suspect you'll want to get fucked when you meet my cock, so you should probably clean out. " He demurred.  I indicated that perhaps we should just move on that life is "full of missed opportunities."  He asked if he could call, and I said "of course" (duh, you have my cell number bendeho) and when he spoke to me his batteries recharged (he later said talking to me made him super hard/guys tell me I have a sexy voice, but I don't think so.  Once in college I had an RD tell me that men wouldn't take me seriously because of my voice, which was clearly code for "you sound like a faggot."  Apparently I don't sound like a faggot as I've learned many years later, despite not being a macho man, but I also don't sound like James Earl Jones.)  Learning I was leaving the next morning he said "I'll be right over."

While waiting I packed, prepped (hand towel and lube on the night table; condoms in the drawer of the night table if he insisted) and grabbed a novel I was reading.  Soon I heard a mild tap on the door.

He is scruffy, and a bit chunky, both of which I like.  When he shed his clothes I found he was hairy but not too hairy, which I also like.  Dense pubes in his pits, which as regular readers know, I love.  And he had some nice manfunk in those pits, not rancid but "manly."  Otherwise little odor, including his balls.

This guy was seriously into making out, which I love.  Lots of sucking on each others' lips and tongues and exploration of each others' mouths.  Nice.  Then he went to my cock, to which he devoted tender attention.  Then I pushed him back onto the bed and focused on his genitals.  Mmmm, mmm.

A nice cut dick, almost as big as mine, nice low hanging balls, and a nice hairy hole.   I licked him like he was my new born calf and got him all slicked with my spit and crazied by the stimulation.  I was worried about his ass, but it had no unpleasant odor and seemed totally clean, so I dove in with my tongue.  He was pulling his cheeks apart and gasping and groaning.  I knew what was next.  Getting on my knees I straddled him and rubbed my cock up and down his now drenched crack.  As I massaged his hole with my cock head he pushed back -- all the invitation I needed.  I applied pressure, he gave an affirming grunt, and I pushed in a little bit more.  He was making it clear it as aokay.

I decided we'd both enjoy it more with lube and pulled out to grab it, but was concerned that my cock would be nasty:  it wasn't/completely debris and odor free.  I lubed us both up and eased in and gradually slip deep inside him.  We started a rhythm and he murmured "no cumming". I said "I won't come in you" and with a no nonsense look in his eyes and tone he said "I know you won't".

Well it progressed to a lot of thrashing about and switching of positions.  He wanted to straddle me (like all bottoms) and I reluctantly pulled out and was again totally clean, and remarked with surprise.  He said "well I did shower this afternoon."  Guess this guy flushes out when he showers.  Lucky me.

We made out throughout it; I think we both enjoyed the kissing as much, perhaps more, than the fucking.  I wanted his load; he wanted us to cum together.   I knew if we came together I'd never lick up his load:  I only want the other guy's cum before I cum.  After I shoot any appetite for his load vanishes.  This rule applied again.  We laid next to each other, pressed side by side, and stroked off.  I shot first, which thrilled him.  I enjoyed watching him cum across his hairy stomach and wished I was still interested in licking it up.  But, the moment had passed.

Post orgasm he was quite chatty and alpha; we ended up having more than a mutual interest in cock in common.  It was nice.  He went to the bathroom to wipe off and came back to lie next to me.  After I cum I remain hard for a long time (but can't cum for another 30 minutes, typically) and he remarked about it, but I'd relaxed a bit when he returned.  He turned to me and started to make out with me and to play with my balls and he started to get hard.  But it was late and we both knew we needed to call it a night.

He's interested in an encore and I have his number.  I get down to LA a few times a year.  I hope to share another encounter with him soon.  Perhaps I'll be savoring the taste of his cum in the future.

p.s. what is the deal with blogger anyway?  I have 706 followers on tumblr after joining in April; after 14 months I have 58 followers here.  I don't get why guys are so reluctant to follow each other here; I follow a wide array of blogs.  Strange.