Tuesday, 31 December 2013

He likes it rough

The rusty entrance gate to the building slams shut behind me making a loud noise. I make my way up to the fifth floor by the narrow staircase illuminated by some cheap fluorescent tubes. There is only one flat on each floor and this particular door in front of me is shiney dark wood, distinctively newer and nicer than the rest of the building. I open the door and there he is, a few steps away on his knees, wearing nothing except a netted Andrew Christian jockstrap and a blindfold. I close the door, put my jacket on the table and let my semi out through the flies on my jeans. I remove his blindfold so he can take a good look while he starts sucking on my cock.

He looks gorgeous just like in the photos I have seen. He has the kind of nice features that let him get away with just about anything in life. But he is a sub boy really. He has been calling me "sir" on Grindr and telling me how eager he is to be my bitch. I don't have any experience with a sub boy, but I find the chat very horny and want to have a go. Can't be that hard to face-fuck someone.

I try my best to look like I know what I am doing. I let him come up for a snog and he goes for it like an excited puppy, wagging his tail. After the greetings it's time to get back to business which means blindfold back on and I cuff his hands behind him with a thick velcro restrainer he has ready on the coffee table. I'm glad it's not fiddly because I could just see myself taking ages to put them on like an awkward amateur. I am doing ok. I let him suck some more while I play with his nipples - he seems to like it and being smacked on his face/tits from the way he moans. I lead him around the sofa to lay him down with his head resting on a black, fluffy mini footstool/beanbag and sit on his face with a bit of leaning towards a 69'er. He rims my hole so enthusiastically I think he was enjoying it more than me. Sometimes I'd turn around to face-fuck him a bit with his head on the beanbag.

I can't remember when I took his expensive underwear off but he doesn't seem to like having his uncut cock wanked much. I think it's the kind with a sensitive head that has to have the turtleneck rolled down in a particular way or something. I release the buckle between the cuffs and let him play with himself while I fucked his face. Now he's sitting up, I ask him if he wants my piss. He moans in confirmation, with my cock still in his mouth. I tell him to stop sucking but my cock is still pointing down his throat - I just need him to lose the grip so I can start the flow. As soon as it starts his lips seal around my hose and he gulps down the oil. It feels funny because I am pissing, I am using those muscles, but I can't see or hear the stream. If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there...

I turn him towards the beanbag again but this time with his head down, ass up, hands behind his back. Sub boys love that position. I think. I start spanking his arse. I just want to see if it turns me on. As his cheeks go from pale to bright pink, his yelping gets louder and sounds more genuine. Ok not doing anything for me. I go for his hole with my fingers and some spit. He wails when I put the first finger in although it was an easy entry. He makes the same noise when I pull out. So with the next fingers I go in very slowly, making sure he has time to adjust with the help of some lube. I enjoy feeling around inside him. And he moans in pleasure when his cuffed hands have given up looking for something to hold on to. When I get to four fingers (I only go half way in and I don't have fat fingers so it's actually not much more than a big cock) he says with his mild french accent he wants to suck my cock. I take that as a signal to move on.

He turns back around and lays there while I go in and out of his mouth. I unbuckle him again so he can play with himself. He says he wants my cum. I start increasing the pace and tensing my core muscles. The thrusting action does it for me and I peel off his blindfold seconds before ropes of cum slide up his face, with a third of it bounced off and onto the beanbag over his head. I should have left his blindfold on because now he can't open either of his eyes. He comes on his stomach as I am still straddling his face. It doesn't last very long so when he's done with his orgasm I get up to wash my hands under the kitchen tap. He heads for the toilet to sort out his cum-covered face. By the time he reappears I am almost dressed. I am still very warm from the action. I give him a kiss (I wouldn't normally but he's cute) and make an exit.

He texts to say it was hot. The next day he texts again to ask if we could meet again (but I am not going to be free again before my flight home). Sounds like my dirty talk and dominating act wasn't too bad after all. But I wasn't that turned on by the role, probably because I was just putting all my effort into staying in character. It was interesting though.

When sex is the NSA kind of sex, it is just a game. But when there is connection between the two it is so much more. I still think about Brad every day.

Sunday, 22 December 2013

To be continued

They must be back in New York by now.

I had the chance to see Brad once last time before he left but I didn’t. I didn’t want him to feel any worse. I pray that God gives him all the goodness he deserves.

>…the thought of your gentle smile and warm heart torment me because my actions and desires are not mine to give at this time…
> I have had more than I could ask for in the last couple of weeks.

While Brad was on a plane, I sweated through the night with a fever. I sent Craig an email to ask for forgiveness but I couldn't promise never to let Brad touch my heart again. I couldn't.

Saturday, 21 December 2013

> It's not supposed to happen this way...

Brad is the sweetest man. Physically he is not at all the type I go for - I have the commercialised view of beauty which means a full head of hair, tallish, athletic build. He doesn't tick the boxes (except his package which is in a league of its own, hence "the Range Rover").

As I get to know him a little more, I am captivated by his heart of gold. He is an artist but he is nothing like the pretentious London hipsters who criticise everyone and everything. The way he sees beauty in the things he likes is unique and inspiring. I think he also sees a lot in me that I don't.

What I see is that when he smiles his eyes pull you in and there is no escape. Like the ocean, so deep, powerful and yet so very gentle.

Sorry this is all very cliched I know. I am an engineer. I can't piss poetry on demand. But every word is true.

We become intimate very quickly in our texts. I am counting the number of days before I can ask about the next stay-over, to avoid sounding too desperate. I manage to see him every other day but he would always have something on in the evening, and he would always ask me to forgive him. Five days after our night together he has to bail again.

> Don't feel bad.
> I feel bad for reasons we should discuss face to face. I am twisted in a knot thinking about you.

I know I have jumped into something I cannot easily get out of. But I didn't realise Brad is also stuck. It's not supposed to happen like this. I am only meant to be a friend with benefits. Craig is the reason we even come to know each other. That night, we are in our own beds but neither of us get to sleep much.

I keep telling myself that it's just a phase. It's just a phase. We finally meet up again at his work place, in a little office with three desks. It's relatively quiet on a Sunday. Brad says he doesn't trust his or my feelings at the moment, although he doesn't understand why over the years he still thinks about me. The reality is our lives are in different places in the world.  So there is no point in trying or even thinking. I know that. And we talk some more.

I feel a lot better after that. At least the outcome is not "let's not see or talk to each other again". He walks me to the bus stop in the rain. We hold each other's eyes for the last time before the bus pulls away and crawls into the city lights.


I should probably mention our fuck in the office. Fighting against our feelings is futile. There are no blinds on the windows so I have to believe nobody is watching. The room is also lacking in furniture. I straddle him on the office chair which I think would break if I put my whole weight on it. That or Brad's legs. We go bareback (which is very irresponsible and stupid, I know) because we don't have anything. I am surprised that it works and it wasn't painful. When I come he takes it in his mouth but even after that I don't want him to pull out. So he carries on, until he gets close. I honestly enjoy every second when we are connected and I will try my hardest to never forget it.

Saturday, 14 December 2013

How it started less than a week ago

I must have really left an impression on Brad. He carried on sending me messages saying how he’d like to spend more time with me next time I was back in town, and I would be welcome to stay in their apartment in Manhattan if I ever went. I thought it was the polite thing to say.

July 2012, I am in New York for just over a week to see the city and a friend who is there for business. But for the first few days I choose to stay at Craig and Brad’s apartment. They are both supposed to be back here in New York for a few weeks but apparently Brad is delayed by some last minute errands. Craig goes to his office in the morning and doesn’t usually come back until late evening. He is always sweet and treats me like a friend. Nothing more. We have sex once - not sure if he is actually keen or just doesn't want to reject me. I never see Brad or even speak to him over the phone. He is still pretty much just someone-I-met-once. But I am immensely grateful for their generosity and trust as a couple.

A month ago, I send Brad a Facebook message about my upcoming trip, addressed to both of them. A few days after touching down, I am invited over for dinner. We talk and drink until the wee hours, before our clothes come off. Like last time, Craig is happy to just watch sometimes while stroking himself. There was a lot of kissing and fucking but mostly only between Brad and I. I have a Range Rover up my back end and it seems to have endless stamina. Eventually, in a straddling position, I shoot all over Brad’s body up to his shoulder. And the sight of it sends Craig over the edge too.

Three men in their 20’s, 30’s and 40’s share a bed that night. Brad and I are spooning all night but separate from Craig – I think he’d rather be left alone to get some sleep.

The next morning, after breakfast, Craig leaves for work. Brad and I end up in bed again. We make out and he tells me about how good it felt last night, how much he adores me, over and over again like he can’t help himself.

Friday, 13 December 2013

The Range Rovers from New York

So I’ve taken a few weeks off work to visit my birth place, to get away from the cold and to see my friends and family. Despite the travelling costs and difficulty with taking such a long time off work, I try to visit regularly which is why I still have friends in the city. Near the top of the list of people I have to (and want to) see are Craig and Brad – a couple of expats from New York.

A few years ago I met Craig when I was in town on a visit. We hooked up and he was amazing and his kindness made him even more attractive. Unlike most I had shared a bed with, Craig was actually interested in me as a person rather than a nameless device of pleasure. At that time I wasn’t used to the idea of a sexual relationship with anything more. I knew he had a partner so it wasn’t “that”. It was slightly confusing but I enjoyed his company and really appreciated his attention – I didn’t quite understand why a good looking, clever and successful man would bother taking an uninteresting, awkward sounding (I probably stammered in front of him) student to one of his favourite noodle bars.

Craig told his partner Brad about me and we exchanged a few messages online. Brad was between Craig and I in age. I don’t remember the details but he always sounded very polite and said he was keen to meet me. About a couple of summers ago (roughly…my memory is shocking for a 20 something) I was back again and finally got to meet Brad and Craig together at their place. They were both incredibly nice and welcoming which I thought was a bit strange to see it from Brad – because I kinda had sex with his partner, you know. But he was sweet and gave me his full attention. Brad was about my size. They were hot and both had amazing drives. If I were a Polo (and I was no stranger to nice saloons) they would be Range Rovers – two of them, fucking my brains out. I kept looking to Craig for reassurance like a baby that got handed over to a stranger. It was my first non-1-on-1 experience.