Yesterday I met a guy I had sex with more than once: 3 or 4 times, I’d say.
He is really attractive, half american half italian, I love the way he talks, I can’t stop watching him in the eyes – or better, I don’t look too much at his eyes because I like them too much – I like the way he dedicate himself to my body and pleasure.
Yesterday the sex was amazing, I don’t want stop thinking about it, I believe I’ll think about it and masturbate myself for the next days.
First time I met him, it was quick and rough. It was night, I was going back home, we chatted just a few lines and he told me to go to his apartment. I went inside and he was on his bed, lights off, I closed the door, I took off my pants and he blew me until I came into his mouth. I saw him briefly while he was to the bathroom to spit and I noticed his blue eyes (plus a big map of the world on the wall that I liked). We commented the map, still in the half-dark and I went away.
Second time, at least one year later, he asked me if I wanted to go running with him (I had a mention of my passion for running in the profile), and talked about sport and sex in the teasing way which it is so common on chat. I didn’t that we already knew each other, we agreed that it would have not been so fun running together – different distances, different speed – and he proposed me to give me a massage. I went to his apartment in the middle of a sunny morning. We saw each other properly, he was more attractive than I imagined: did he recognize me? I never asked. He had prepared everything for a proper massage, I took off my shirt and jeans and laid in my briefs. It was completely relaxing and erotic and slow and long. I stayed in a balanced mood between enjoying the moment as it was already perfect and wanting something more. He started stimulating my ass, my balls, my cock, just with soft movement of his fingers. Then stop, then again. I was completely at his mercy. He told me to turn on my back. My hard-on was out of my brief, he took them off and started blowing me. I was fucking his mouth, but he could have asked anything and I would have agreed. I came into his mouth. When I was dressing, he asked my how old I was, I told 38, he said that I had such a beautiful body, he couldn’t believe that I was so fit.
Third time, again in the morning, but it was me proposing a massage. He agreed. Nothing less relaxing and exciting than the previous time, just quicker, he said how much he liked my body and he took off my briefs while I was still on my belly. He started rimming me and again he could have done whatever, I just didn’t want him to stop touching my body. He wanted to suck my cock. We kissed. I rimmed him. I fucked him, but not too much because it hurt him, I finally came into his mouth. We stayed in the bed for a while after sex – which is always difficult for me since I feel awkward and partially guilty – but we liked watching each other body and I wanted to give him pleasure. I really don’t remember if he came or if he told me it was ok. This time we also talked briefly about our jobs.
In the following weeks Facebook suggested him as a friend: isn’t it weird this way of Facebook of sneaking into your life? We had common friends.
One day I asked him to meet me again, he said yes, then after a while he said he didn’t feel like it. Another day, no answer. I thought it was over as it may easily happen when you want to keep really casual casual sex.
Yesterday I saw him online, a different profile, a different picture. We chatted a little, he recognized me and told me to go. He asked me what I wanted to do: what about me coming in, taking off my pants, coming and going away? Ok, I know this plot.
We did something really different.
We went to his bedroom, he put his hand inside my jeans to get me hard and I started kissing him. I’m not sure if it was the first time we kissed, but we just couldn’t stop. I held him as tight as I could, he grabbed my shoulders, we undressed without stopping kissing.
On the bed I stood on my knees and he started blowing me, I slowly went down on him and started to reciprocate. I wanted his ass and went forward to lick it. I played with my tongue laying over him and listening his pleasure growing. He sucked my cock and licked my ass: they both gave me pleasure.
He asked me to fuck him doggy style, he was completely wet, me too, still it hurt him and every now and then I had to stop. When I went out of him and started kissing his neck, his ears, his shoulders, I noticed that he had freckles, beautiful freckles that I wanted to kiss. He tried with some popper and started blowing me again, even if I had fucked him. I fingered his ass and came into his mouth.
When he came back from the bathroom I was still naked and excited in bed and then the sex that we had afterwards was so perfect that it is still in my mind.
It is for my vanity of staying super excited and completely hard in the 30 minutes that we spend together after the sex, his longing for my cock that he couldn’t stop blowing, him saying how beautiful it is my body again and again, my desire to see him coming (have I ever seen him coming?), me fingering him again, and then penetrating him again while laying beside him and kissing and kissing and kissing, playing with the lips, the tongue, biting sometimes, laughing out of embarrassment for compliments, talking a bit. And then I noticed that talking was what really turned him on. And so while we was jerking off and I had still a finger in his ass, I started saying all the bad things I wanted to do to him, all the rimming, all the fucking, all the coming inside and the fucking again, and one finger, two fingers in his ass, and coming bareback and feeling my sperm on his legs. I felt completely dominant to be slave to his pleasure.
He was about to come a couple of times, but still he didn’t: do you have any problem with this my beautiful boy? I don’t care, I can wait and play as long as you can do.
When he saw me out, he said that we couldn’t imagine that I was so dirty, that he wanted to see me again and get fucked this time. We kissed and said goodbye.
I know what I have to do: I have to wait. I have to wait days and weeks, I have to stop thinking of him with intensity, I have to consider that he may change his mood, I have to imagine that it may not happen again and still that what happened was perfect.
I’m not looking at his profile. I know what I have to do to make it happen again.
It is so difficult to wait for the beauty.