Sunday, March 31, 2013

Hotel visitors (3) and a bonus

A couple things occurred to me:
1. I've suddenly become appealing to guys over a decade younger than me.
2. Hotel visitors are easier to connect with but I can't seem to cum with them to save my life!
3. Fuck, I love playing with shorter guys.

So, I was chatting on Growlr with a flight attendant from the UK when I suddenly became keenly aware that I was a dozen years older than him.  And that's really not that big of a deal, except when the guy is fresh out of college and in his early twenties.  It's an age difference than more than half his life.  I came out pretty early (in high school) so I got used to being the youngest guy in my gay circles.  And I used to love "older guys".  I can't tell if it's because there just weren't that many out kids at that time or if I was just searching for something in someone older.  And back then, older meant guys in their mid twenties.  In college, it meant guys in their thirties.  Now, my tongue hangs out and drools for guys ranging from twenties to mid fifties.  So, it was just a bit of a jolt to suddenly realize that I'm being hit on as the older guy.  And I'm ecstatic about it since I've previously been invisible to that crowd for awhile now.

He was dead tired and jet lagged, but we had a good several lines of fun, playful flirting going on when he mentioned that he had a hankering for a Coke.  Well, I couldn't let the city of angels down and not play the good host and get him one, right?  Yeah, I think he saw through my real intentions there.

I jet over to the local 7 Eleven and get him a 44 oz. fountain Coke and a 32 oz. Coke Slurpee (for me, but I grabbed two straws 'cause I have a feeling he's gonna want a taste) and headed over to the hotel where he was staying for the night.

First thing he said after we said our hellos?

"God, that's big!"  I just love it when guys say that.  But of course, he was referring to the drinks.  "You're so sweet for doing that."

"Well, we do everything big here!  Besides, this isn't an import like it'd be in London," I replied.

He took a sip of my Slurpee, which he politely said "was different" while we were still standing.  I set my drink down and finally took him in.

He's a cub.  Just a large frame with broad shoulders and a body that filled it in nicely.  A really cute face with dark features, dark, short-cropped hair and dark eyes, but with a lightness behind it that counterbalanced his dark features, the same lightness to the easy, casual conversation and flirtiness.  My eyes, I'm sure, read differently.  He set his drink down when he saw them and I took a step in to close the gap.  My arms wrapped tightly around him but my head pulled back to search his for that moment where it'd be right, where we'd both meet halfway and our lips could touch.  A slight dart in, a pull back and then we were in sync and the void between us became a vacuum sucking us both in.

Those initial moments were perfect, our needs perfectly aligned, and then he started with the guppy face.  With our lips locked, he started to open and close his jaw in a rhythmic pattern.  Open, close, open, close...  in perfect harmony with a metronome.  But not quite perfect for me.  Nobody wants all tongue or just an open, lifeless and gaping mouth.  But it felt like he was going through the mechanics instead of focusing on how we responded to each other.

I pulled back to look at his sweet face.

"God, you're a good kisser" he said.

D'oh! Um...

"Thanks!" I replied and smiled.  And then I used this opportunity to rip the shirt off him and over his head, exposing a lightly furry chest that complimented his masculine frame.  I love a hairy body on a younger guy!

Lightly playing his chest hair, I maneuvered him over to the bed and pushed him slightly down.  I really wanted to nuzzle into his chest, but as his legs swung out from under him, I used that opportunity to take off his trunks and quickly disrobed myself before flopping on top of him, pressing my full body weight on top of him and made out some more.  Skin to skin, I felt his hairy body tickle mine with every move we made.  He loved his ears played with as a nibbled and sighed into his.  He wasn't so keen on me licking his neck or his large, sensitive nipples.  He really didn't want me to acknowledge his body at all.  But pressed into him.  Then kicked his knees apart and hiked his legs over my shoulders.  Grinding into him, I felt his body both tense up and invite me in every time the head of my dick glided passed his hole.  One of my hands was balled up into a fist next to his shoulder, the other pressing the opposite shoulder down into the matress as I leaned my weight into him.  On one stroke, I leaned back and changed the angle so the next time my cock would glide past his hole, it'd naturally find its target and press in.

His half-closed eyes opened and he sighed, "No, I can't..."  So I angled back and and ground some more into him.  At this point, I was able to grab his hard, thick uncut cock and stroke.  I picked up the pace a little and knew he was getting close.

"You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that."

"And what's stopping you?"

With that, I stroked three or four more times until his body violently shook and he let out volley after volley of cum.  One large squirt that reached out and wanted to grab his chest, and several smaller ones that dribbled over my knuckles   He slowed me down while I continued to stroke him and I'd see his glistening head poking in and out of his foreskin, slick with cum.

When I got back to the car, I noticed that I still had a little over an hour in the meter after having put in two hours worth.  It was fine.  I didn't get off (again!) but I hate being pressured to cum quickly after a guy half-heartedly tries to get me off since he's lost the mood.

So what did I do?  I logged onto adam4adam and found this other early twenties kid that I had been chatting with for quite a while, but never got the chance to meet.  He's a hot kid.  Shaves his head, with a little stubble and growth on his chin.  5'6" and built like crazy.  His pics online show him in profile with his arm hyper-extended, reaching down in front of him but past the border of the picture to presumably tuck him thumb down the waistline of his pants and expose himself.  And he has this mischievous grin on his face as if he's doing something naughty, which he probably is but he's cropped it out.  That playfulness is in contrast to his stud jock body.  That hyperextended arms shows his triceps and a guy with worked out arm makes my cock drool.  Solid smooth chest and abs that ripple in front.  He's a lot of muscle packed into a small frame.  It's a study of contrasts in a totally different way than the airline crew kid I just left.

Seeing as how we have chatted in the past for awhile now, we skipped the preliminaries.

Me: Lets play. Free now?
MiniJock: shure if you wanna come by and fuck some ass cum and head out i can be ass up lubed n ready
Me: Fuck yeah. What's the address?
MiniJock: [gives address] let me hop in the shower and ill hit ya up when i get out realy quick
Me: Sounds good. I'll start heading up...

Any other time and I'd think that the shower thing was a stalling tactic to then flake out.  Especially since we've tried and haven't successfully hook up before.  But this time was different.  I got his address and he was pretty good to note that it would be a quick shower, silently noting that he was serious and not just playing me.

I arrived at his place and tried the handle.  It was unlocked.  And true to his word, he was naked, ass-up and waiting.  It was dark.  Real dark.  But I could definitely see his pale skin and ass beckoning me closer.

I heard a low growl coming from the corner.  After my head shot in the direction of the noise, I could hear the rattling of a crate, keeping to dog in place.

For what I had in mind, the dog was right in trying to protect his owner.  None of the passionate tenderness as with the airline guy.  I wanted ass.  And I wanted it bad.  Raw, instinctual primal need.

I quickly threw off my shirt and pants to the first thing I could see as my eyes adjusted.  My cock, which had deflated in-between encounters, quickly chubbed up and I walked over there and let it land on his ass with a flop.  As promised he was pre-lubed.  Generously.  So I let my cock fall into his crack and lube itself up by grinding it against him.  Just like the airline kid but this time, I didn't have any intention of letting him off being fucked.  Just wanted to get lubed enough so my cock wouldn't chafe   I quickly debated whether or grab the condom out of my pocket and my little head won the battle and I pointed it and pressed in.  Fuck, I love the heat of his ass around me.  And I love feeling the initial resistance and then the flowering open as he accepted my cock into his hole.  Halfway through, his ass involuntarily seized up and I stopped, held still, and just let myself feel his hole murmuring around my cock as he worked to relax himself.  When I sensed he was good enough, I pressed in steadily until I bottomed out.

I needed this.

It felt so good, I collapsed on his back and let out a moan, which elicited another growl from the protective doggie in the crate.  I echoed the growl too, but low, and directly into the owners ear.

And then I fucked him.  Power fucked him and slammed it into his hole.  Grabbed his waist and felt the hard, rippling muscle underneath my fingers as I pulled him back onto my dick while simultaneously thrusting my hips forward.  I worked his hole so he'd feel every inch of me.  I grabbed his shoulders and used them as leverage to pull him even deeper into the fuck.  It was a hard, angry slap when pelvis hit ass every time.  Violent event.  I let go of his shoulders and pressed his head and back down to change the angle a bit.  Instead of a horizontal thrust, I wanted to fuck downward.  Feel my whole weight with every thrust.  I pushed him deeper and deeper into the couch he was bent over to the point where his head was completely buried into the folds of the padding.  As I picked up the pace and fucked him with the brutality of a hate fuck, I could see his chest heaving as he was panting for air.  Not sure if it was just the intensity of it all or the fact that he was struggling for air, but it made my cock swell even more.

Not wanting to cum too quickly, I grabbed his hips and pulled him out of the cushions.

"Get on your back," I barked.

Slight hesitation.  Maybe he didn't hear me.  Maybe he wanted to keep the allure of being fucked anonymously.  I didn't care which.  I used my height advantage to flip him over and onto his back.

Now it was my turn to hesitate.  He's fucking gorgeous.  His pics online didn't do him justice.  They didn't misrepresent him at all, but he's beautiful.  And the slightly furrowed brows pleading up to me and his rock hard, thick (and I mean thicker than country gravy, enough to split a bottom in two if he were a top) cock pointing straight up made me want to devour him.  Hiked his knees over my shoulders and plunged in.  I had my feet on the floor and was fucking down into him, piledriving him.  That wasn't quite enough.  Not sure if he could really feel me.  So I placed both hands around his neck, not anywhere near where I could block off his airway passages, but close enough to make him wonder.  And then I pressed down and put my whole weight into my hands as I fucked him.  Same panting, same heaving.  I wasn't going to last.  I tried to ease up by letting go of his throat and going down to my knees.  Grabbed his dick and stroked him a bit.  He took the hint and took over stroking.  With a few final thrusts, I blasted his ass walls with my cum and shook as violently as the airline kid did before me.  When he felt me start to load up his ass, MiniJock sighed and let out a huge shot.  The force of the shot not only blasted it past his head and onto the couch behind it, it made an audible thwack and it hit the fabric.  Not solid wall, but it made a thwack against fabric!  Enough for me to hear even as I was growling and shooting my cum.  And that made me shout even louder as my body involuntarily jerked and thrust in him deeper.  Just in time for his next shot.  His next shot hit him in the face.  The the following soaked up his chest.  The sight of all that extended my orgasm and it took me awhile to come down.  I was still trying to collect myself when he got up and started to clean up the mess he made, apologizing but noting how hard it would be to get it off if he waited.

"Fuck, do you always cum like that?"

"Yeah.  Usually.  It's the only thing I do well."

I didn't care that it wasn't necessarily me that made him shoot like that.  At that moment, I just became really, really sad.  The "only thing"?  Really?  It's one of those things that was said in jest but that had a hint of truth.  As if he really did think that he doesn't do anything well.  And I was sad I took advantage of a kid that thought all he had to offer was his ass.  I wanted to scoop this guy up in my arms and just let him soak up some tenderness, a tenderness that would be really out of place after what just happened.  And just scooping him up would probably set off some body image issues about his size.  Then I thought of the airline crew kid and how he didn't want me to acknowledge his body at all.  Twice in one night I made two younger guys cum pretty hard and both times I failed to nurture them a bit.  Two completely different guys, different encounters  different attitudes in the acts themselves, yin and yang, and I still somehow managed to get it wrong.  I kinda tossed out some responsibility in taking care of them in some respects and I just hope that they someday come to terms with how special they are on all the different levels.


Anonymous said...

This post was difficult to read, as it brought back memories of an old friend of mine. Too often, we go through life without realizing how our actions affect those we encounter. You wrote that you were 'hate fucking' this trashy kid-but then express how it puzzles you that he is so aware of his shortcomings. Much like my friend, this kid may have been looking for companionship-and if getting plowed with his face wedged into the couch was all be could find, that doesn't make him an insecure object. He obviously didn't mind sex since he put himself out there-but if nothing else, the manner in which you write about the experience fuels this cycle.

Soon enough, the feeling of a cock in his ass won't satisfy his need for human interaction-unfortunately for my friend, this was the point in which he gave up the fight.

Recently found your blog and I must say its very entertaining. Hopefully you keep documenting your escapades for your readers to enjoy-after all, in the grand scheme it probably wouldn't make much sense to be overly concerned with some troubled fuck here and there when hundreds-maybe thousands of readers are eagerly awaiting the next story.

Bruce Chang said...

And I think your reply was also tough to read. Thanks for sharing. I emailed the guy back letting him now how intense that was. That was all I could manage in my post-cum haze. And in my greedy, selfish self, I want more of him. But I'm just not sure how its gonna turn out. It might be just me over thinking it and I need to get out of my head, bringing up my own insecurities and projecting them on others, but I'm not so sure I can just let myself off the hook like that. In any case, even "just a trick" means that there's the potential for long-lasting echoes that pulls me back and that's just fucking beautiful. And I loved that he was able to bring that out.

Anonymous said...

The irony is that these individuals who project themselves as vessels-merely a hole to be filled-are often times otherwise highly intelligent people. They understand that with each encounter, their self-worth is diminished. And yet, their basic need to feel the touch of another-even when that touch manifests as a fist into their back as they're being fucked, or a slap on the ass accompanied by the words 'You like that you dirty slut?'-is so void that they subject themselves to these encounters. I once asked my friend why he would continue to subject himself to this treatment-especially considering he was, by societies standards extremely good looking-he replied that unless you've ever truly felt what the darkness of loneliness is like, you could never understand or rationalize.

My apologies for the lengthy comments. I guess in a way, I feel like I owe it to him since I wasn't able to help him when he needed me most.

Take care.

Bruce Chang said...

Apologize? Pushaw. At least the thought is well constructed and coherent, unlike my writing!