The forgetful blond buddy

Everyone is a potential fuck buddy.  Well, what I mean by that is that everyone I hook up is potentially a person I'd hook up with on a regular basis.  But to the extent that we're buddies is probably as fictitious as any prop in the tv studios that pepper this city.  But even if kindness is feigned and superficial, as ostensibly shallow as any five-buck plastic kiddie wading pool, I'm a bit glad for it.  'Cause I really don't want to be more embarassed than I already am when I realize the specifics of the previous encounters with a repeat hookup isn't as vividly imprinted in my brain and I really don't want to be called out on the fact that I forgot what they did for a living.  Sometimes, all I know is that we had a helluva lot of fun.  And when the tables are turned and I see a guy struggle to remember, I'm likewise kind and gentle.

He and I met years ago when I was in his city for a conference.  He's a couple hundred miles away.  Not close enough to meet regularly by any stretch, but not too far to drop the occasional note when we cross each others' county lines.  For awhile, I was going to the conference annually but that stopped a couple years back.  I wasn't too surprised, though, when he dropped a note telling me he'd be in town for a conference himself.  Luckily, I had time to meet up.

Honestly, I typically don't go for blonds.  I don't know why.  He keeps his cut short, military-style, making him look younger than his years.  He curses me for the genetic gifts that he claims are bestowed on my ethnic heritage which keeps age at bay but he fails to realize that he's in the same boat.  I'd card him as a bouncer in a heartbeat.  That's another thing that kinda puzzles me as I'm generally into guys older than me.  But I do remember the fun we had together.  And I remember the freckles that dusted his shoulders.  The way he kisses that was just right in intensity, passionate enough to make me feel his desire but not savage enough to leave my lips raw.  Deep kisses that break with contemplative pauses, head cocked, lingering.

Throughout the week, he kept messaging me online in eager anticipation.  I figured he just wanted some horny chats when I realized he was fishing for information.  He finally asked what I wanted to get into when we got together.

"I'm going to fuck the cum out of you."

"Really? I'm not sure if that's gonna happen."

At first, I thought he was saying that he couldn't cum from being pounded without some manual manipulation, but as the chat progressed, I realize that he doesn't remember that he's bottomed for me every time we met.  In fact, I'm not sure if he even remembered what I looked like!  He asked for a pic and I assumed he wanted some cock shot to refresh his memory or to jerk off to.  But when I took a little too long to respond, he sent me a face pic of himself to egg me on.  Ha!  So I sent one back.  Followed with a cock shot to either make him grimace with fear or make his ass twitch in hunger.

So when I knocked on his door later that night, he opened the hotel room door and he beamed like a kid when the memories flooded his head into recognition.  It all clicked for me to when I pulled him to me and kissed him.  Tenatively first with a brief pause before I really went at it.  He was hard as a rock before I got his clothes off and that's when I felt a little embarassed.  I forgot how big his cock was.  Maybe an inch bigger than me and thick as hell, a big slab of meat and angry red.  I loved the weight of it in my hand so I couldn't help but hold it as we made out until he grabbed my wrist and panted, "No, not yet.  You got me so close."

"Really?!"  I was surprised he was that close.  "This is going to be fun."  I was going to love edging him.

And that was how it was for the rest of the night.  Frenetic passionate energy alternating with playful pauses as we giggled about the intense chemistry.

I let him suck me for a bit and though it was the best blowjob I had in awhile (no teeth and just the right tempo), my cock was eager to remind him how he took it every time we met.  I lubed up before grabbing him and hugging him close, rolled onto my back and made him straddle me while we were still intertwined.  My cock quickly found the target and I felt myself slip inside.  Each gasp he made coincided with a spasm of his assring around my cock as he struggled to make himself relax enough to take me in.  He finally hit rock bottom and started really riding me, but the curse of my curve and my relatively thinner base made me slip out everytime he got too enthusiastic.  Even though I kept on slipping out, he still had to slap my hand away from his meaty cock every time he got close.  But finally I had enough and laid him on his back.  Right leg over my left shoulder.  Left leg to the side so I can still grab his cock when I wanted.  Quick aim and I shoved in deep, giving his ass an assault that registered both agony and sweet bliss across his face.  I just watched his cock flopping around while I made him feel the whole length of my cock.  I wanted his ass to feel every ridge, every vein.  I wanted to imprint the memory of dick in his anal walls to make him remember the perfect fit.  Just a grab of his cock made him gasp and ready to shoot, so I slowed down and just enjoyed being inside him.  Grabbed his shoulders and pulled them to me to get in as deep as I could.  After a few moments, I grabbed his ankles, lifted them high, shifted so the weight of us both was on his shoulders and slammed him hard.  Then grabbed his hips and suspended him in air while I fucked up into his hole at a jack hammer pace.

Pause to just enjoy each other.  Over and over. until I had him with one knee to the side again and wanted to watch him cum.  I couldn't tell if he was reaching to stop me before he came or if he wanted to take over.  Either way, I didn't let him touch his dick and kept on stroking for him while I steadily fucked his hole.  Five big jets flew between us and soaked his torso and stomach.  A couple more dribbles down my knuckles.  And all he could do was laugh at the intensity of it all.  Before he could scamper off to wipe up, I smeared his load all over his torso to let it soak in.

I wasn't quite done.  He laughed some more as my hands ran over him and I loved feeling the laughter rumble up from his core.

"I have a thing for cum," I said. "So I wanna smell it, bathe in it, when we fuck again."

But I knew he needed a break.  I gently inquired about all the things I remembered about him.  The wound on his thumb from when he sliced it open before our last meeting has now turned into a big long scar.  His filippino boyfriend was doing well and they decided to finally declare an open relationship.  It wasn't long before he wanted to substitue the intimate pillow talk with some more physical demonstrations.

"I want to see you cum."

He started to stroke me but I stopped him and raised myself on an elbow.  With an evil grin I had him on his back again and teased his hole with my cock.  When I felt like he was ready, I eased it in.  Then I pounded the shit out of him with the sole purpose of using his ass to cum.  One leg was over my shoulder again with my whole weight on my hands, one hand being on his slippery chest wafting up aromas from his emmissions to push me over the edge.  And my weight holding him down.  I came hard deep inside him coating his insides with my spunk and continued to fuck in it just as I made him bathe in his own DNA.

I loved sharing that with him.

I was there for two hours.  And maybe it's all fake and we're just using each other, but I enjoy him being polite.  And he feigned enough interest in me that, on my way back, he called to let me know that I forgot my watch and met me downstairs to avoid the parking charges to give it back.  Not a text or an email, but a phone call.  Pretty rare these days.  Worried that I'd get in trouble, he stood in the cold hugging his shoulders while I made my way back.

And even if another two years pass, enough time to make him forget what happened that night or even what we enjoy doing, even if he needs me to send him a pic to remind him what I look like, I'm still going to consider him a buddy...  And not call him out on any of it.  If that's what people mean by LA being superficial and fake with pleasantries, I'm okay with being kinda fake like that.