So, the the thrill of the chase makes me pass up offers from bottoms that are eager to meet even though these eager bottoms end up being the better lays. And yet, I still hunt after the ones I know will end up being a little unsatisfying. I can't blame it on attraction. The eager ones can be just as hot as the one I chase... at least in a two-dimensional, digital format. In person, the chemistry with the ones I hunt is like oil and water taking a lot of effort to emulsify at best and like the repulsion of similarly charged particles at worst.
I casually fired up Grindr and was browsing when a guy not too far away was hitting me up. His headline said "visiting" and with a shirtless pic and sunglasses on as a feeble attempt at discretion, there was no mistaking what he was after. A simple hookup. He was close enough that I took the bait. Even though he messaged me first, his later replies were short and terse. I couldn't get a good read on whether or not he was truly interested, so I chose a really direct approach. Within a few messages we established that we were both tops but down for some oral play, only about a couple miles away from each other and that we were both showered and ready to meet. But that was it. Never got an invite to come over, so I solicited one. Not wanting to get stranded in front of his hotel without a room number, I prodded for that information as well. Poke, poke, push. Not in a good way. Just for more information. I figured that he had cast his net pretty wide and was sorting through the responses before he committed to one. Surprisingly enough, though, we decided to meet in about half an hour.
I got there and was met at the door with just about the same amount of indifference I got online. But I'm not gonna lie. What held me in place instead of making me bolt was the fact that he was one of those rare breeds where the pics just don't do him justice. He had a shirt on him that was a perfect fit. Fitting him snugly around his shoulders and chest and falling away through a trim waist. Some stubble from not having shaved yet. Buzzed hair cut close all around.
We were the same height and weight. Usually, I think I'm taller than I am. Maybe it's me being a little cocky or something, but when I go in for a kiss, I usually find out I'm wrong. Not this time. We looked at each other at eye level and when I walked into his space for an embrace, everything lined up. And fuck was he a good kisser! Lots of give and take. Confident enough to let someone else take over and then took the lead the next go around. Not all tongue. Not all lips. Varied and alternating, a skilled exploration of limits and desires.
There was no mistaking the fact that he was turned on, despite the rather cold initial welcome. My cock rapidly swelled up and was straining against the fabric only to feel his cock bulging right there with me. They'd collide with every movement from side to side and I couldn't help but grab his ass to pull him deeper to grind against him. We fumbled our way to the bed, extracting clothing from our bodies along the way. It was a rather steady stumble aside from a momentary double-take after I peeled off his undies. Beautiful cock. About my size but thicker with nice veins bulging out. Definitely a top's cock.
And once we were on the bed, that's where things eventually fell apart. Perhaps it was me being a bit pushy in testing his boundaries. He didn't let me spread his legs too far when I settled in to lapping at his meat. I couldn't even get him to let me taste his taint. Barely lapped at his balls before I felt him try to wiggle out from under me. He moaned and gasped from my attentions on his cock, but I could tell he was a ways off from shooting no matter what I tried. Slow, fast, additional hand movement, more spit, deep throat... none of it brought him close to the edge. Unfortunately, he didn't fare that well on mine either. Teeth perfectly timed to the wrong moments, not as deep as I'd like and the speed was off.
So we went back to the only thing that worked: making out. Lots of groping, grinding. Me nuzzling against his fuzzy chest (which was a huge surprise given the fact that his pic showed him smooth). until we ended up in a tangle of limbs with him on his back and my grinding against him while he jerked himself off (we gave up trying to jerk each other off... that wasn't working either). There's a moment when you're making out with someone where you know he's about to cum and you can't tell if you want to keep going to bring him over the edge or just pull back and watch him let it fly. I opted to continue, feeling him go from active kisser to passive... losing control over what his lips and tongue were doing and then felt his body contract as his first shot stretched out over his fuzziness. The rest oozed out over his fingers as his body continued to convulse.
My left hand reached out and tried to pick up some of his slime, only to rub it deeper into his fur. I had enough, though, to use as lube as I started to pound one out. With my right, I reached down to his hand that was still wrapped in a loose fist around his cock. I slowly brought it up to my face. One long whiff of his scent before I licked each finger clean and shot my own load to coat the rest of his stomach.
He barely wiped off before fishing for his designer trunks and practically pushed me out the door. I left wondering what just happened. How did I spend well over an hour with a guy that was basically trying to rush me out the door? I mean, that's a long time to basically just do a pathetic two-man circle jerk. In the end, I think we both compromised and worked with what we had. We'd both rather be tapping ass, but snogging with a guy that was serious about meeting up was better than nothing. He felt amazing under my fingers though and I think I secretly wished that, from his perspective, I was going to end up being one of those better than average lays from an eager pursuer. But instead, I think we both got a "meh". Thank god he new how to kiss!