I first caught a glimpse of him in person while I was looking over the balcony of the cheap motel I was at. Arms crossed, fingers drumming against my bicep in a rhythmical pattern: pinky, ring, middle, pointer and back to pinky over and over again. Yeah. I was a little impatient. Hell, I wasn't sure if he was really gonna show up. We've been chatting on the apps for over a year and he always balked at every attempt I made to seal the deal. It was always a rather specific yet polite decline in my offers, so I always felt like I knew where I stood so I didn't think of him as a time waster. Still, the first yes kinda took me back by surprise.
I saw him through the windshield of his car and honestly, I was thinking he seemed a bit bigger than what his pics online implied. When he stepped out of the car, it was confirmed. He was a stocky guy. But he was stocky in all the right ways. He carried his weight well.
But when we got together... Fuck. It's one of those times where you're so turned on that you have to pull back a little. But when you do, you see that same intense attraction mirrored in his eyes and you fuck full throttle again.
During those lulls in-between, I'd witness the same wit from the apps come cross over into real life. He's definitely a good guy.
And there are several moments that stick out in my head. Vividly. There's really no need to write them down 'cause my tongue is thick with the taste of memories. But here's a few:
When I complimented him, he said "Thank you" in such a sincere way that I felt his gratitude and his conviction that my words were earnest, despite his otherwise self-deprecating manners. The response wasn't coated in any sort of cockiness, but rather a burgeoning swagger. He had said at one point, "Ten years ago, I think even I would fuck me." Somehow, even that didn't come off as cocky.
He's a bit of a "low talker". Deep baritone voice softly escaping his lips. Reminds me of a Seinfeld episode... And reminds me of (Daisy?) from the Great Gatsby where she would talk softly so that men would have to lean in to hear her, a form of manipulated intimacy. Maybe it was a different Fitzgerald character. I forget. He also had a very slight lisp. It was a good mix of frustrated expectations and dichotomies. Deep voice, but softly spoken. Big football build, but slight lisp. Very direct in speech yet playful and witty. Tentatively masculine. I could see why guys usually want him to top. He kinda threw off that vibe. Yet, he admittedly is very clumsy at it.
He precums like fucking crazy. I think I swallowed more precum than he produced when he came.
When I sucked on him and fucked the cum out of him, he made me feel like the best thing since sliced bread. With his pubes tickling my nose and his dick tickling the back of my throat, I tongued the base of his cock and he nearly jumped out of bed. And he showed me he paid attention to everything I was doing by mirroring it exactly on me.
And when I was picking my tongue, trying to get his hair out of my mouth, he said, "Yeah, it's wall to wall carpeting." Back, front. Ass, chest. Arms, legs. All over. And it was really nice. Even his permanent five o'clock shadow that seemed to scrape off several layers of skin off my face when we made out was kinda nice.
Full of little moments like that. So much so that I saw him twice in one week. We played for about five hours the second time around.
And here I am. Arms uncrossed but fingers still dancing. This time in a staccato rhythm across this keyboard in front of me as I patiently try to form the words that pale in comparison to the memories etched into my mind. Pointer, pointer, ring, thumb, ring, pointer. ring... And a final ellipses...