I kinda wonder if this is what New York is like. I'm in Vegas and the sheer density of people per square mile, makes it so that my whole list of people on Grindr are either in my hotel or the hotel next door. And I've just walked the short distance from my hotel room to to this other guy where he was waiting for me on hands and knees in a pitch black room save for the glow of porn playing on his laptop, waiting for me to fuck my load into him.
He was a bit impatient. Or maybe he was sore. I wondered if he's load collecting mid-fuck as he's pretty loose and moist, too loose for me to be really hurting him fucking as hard and deep as I am. I'm a decent size, but I'm not that big. He flinches a couple times and pulls off. Then starts talking about wanting my load. I got the hint.
I didn't let him pull away next time and just hammered it into him, fucking the way I wanted to and the way I knew would get me off.
I blew my load and left.
And I honestly don't remember much about him. Someone close. Someone convenient. And far too efficient.
As I pass the streams of people across the casino floor, I do a shuffle with one of them to avoid walking right into each other. Half-smile. Nod. He's cute. I let my eyes linger for a quick second. Just a micro-flirt. Quick thrill. And as I wander past the density of opportunity makes it just too easy to have those little moments. And yes, sometimes those little moments involve quickly planting a load in a guy's hole.
3 comments:
Well, there's certainly a lot of eye candy on the streets of New York, and I suspect a lot of Grindr hookups are between guys within a very few blocks -- that's the point of it, right? In my day, we did a lot of hooking up in AOL chatrooms -- remember those? Maybe you're too young! It was a little slower than Grindr but it worked!
Paul, NYC
Some guys can't ask to be forced. Sometimes it is a game to get it, so it seems more real than a set-up. I know it all too well. And you're not supposed to remember much about him. The thing is - he will remember you. We always do.
That is a strangely alluring thought. Different extremes of perspective and memory connected merely by a momentary scene of flesh on flesh.
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