Chatty

There's so many things that could have made the meeting a disaster, but sometimes the equation doesn't balance out on paper but in person, there's some unknown catalyst that makes it all come together like peanut butter and jelly.  Toasted.  On white with the crusts cut off.  First of all, he's a smoker.  He's blond (not really my thing) and doesn't have a car.  Then add to that, he's chatty during sex.  Not verbal, but chatty.  But goddamn if that wasn't the best three hours I've spent in a long while!  Of course, it didn't hurt that the words falling out of his mouth were all feeding the ego and he's the cutest 21 year-old, scruffy faced, sparkly-eyed little otter in miles.  No really.  I met him off Grindr.  He's really the cutest little thing in a 10 mile radius.

Luckily, though, he wasn't the type that was suddenly sharing with you his mother's recipe for chocolate chip cookies while you're slipping him your sausage.  He was actually very connected.  Sonic expressions of what he was feeling that just invoked in you a deep sense of acute empathy.  And just the right dose of encouragement that any top loves to hear.

It started when he broke from a kiss just to earnestly exclaim how I was a great kisser...  with just enough surprise in his voice that gave me room to tease him a bit.  His body was starved for attention and I made sure my hands traced every inch of him as I worked his clothes off.

"God, you have a magic touch."

And when my tongue found his neck and my teeth chewed on his beard, his knees buckled and he sighed.

When the heat of my breath landed on his earlobe, ironically his body broke out in chills.

"You know just where to go and are not the least bit shy, are you?"

That made me undress the rest of him and quickly disrobed.  I'll show him direct.  Worked his shorts down and swallowed his cock whole.  Pubes to nose, I snaked out my tongue to lap at the base of his cock, trying to reach his balls.  Then I sucked it in let it feel the tight constriction at the back of my throat before opening up for the withdraw.

"Fuck, I think I just learned something new."

Yeah, he's young.  But he's been out for awhile.  And I'm a bit sad to hear that he hasn't gotten this type of attention before.  His body is starving for the feel of another hand, aching for the warmth of touch.  And by the time I had him on all fours, finding out that the scrape of my scruff on his back elicits the same response as a hot breath tickling his ear, I thought I had him wanting me.  But he was tense.  Really tense.  Something wasn't right and I pulled back.

"I don't want to break the moment.  I'm...  uh...  Nobody has been back there."

A virgin.  And as much as I would love to be inside him, it just didn't feel right.  It's not what he consciously was looking for.  His body responded accordingly.  I ended up going back to what his body was responding favorably to and by the time he shot, I was slowly stroking him and he shot so hard he hit my headboard.  And the pillows.  And his own face.  And we didn't stop.

After more lazy groping and playing and chatting, I ended up taking his load down my throat.  He felt bad that he hardly reciprocated this session, but I stopped him.  His body openly told me what it wanted and he triple confirmed it with his soft praises.  My body, in turn, wanted nothing but to delight in his open need.  That was the conversation our bodies were having.  And it didn't need to be intellectualized.  This is where the verbal commentary was not needed.  But where I welcomed some commentary is him spreading word about my sexual prowess to others and subsequently feed my ego.  I was kidding, of course.

I think.