The Late Meal

The hour was late. I had eaten in this restaurant many times. This night they had stayed open just to feed me. The staff had gone home and a waiter was the only one left to see me out and lock up.

I was preoccupied with my own business. I suppose I did not even think about the people around me. The issues of my own life consumed me. My peripheral vision saw the water picture filling up my glass. I felt the hair on my arm rise as it seemed to do when some other body was near. I heard his baritone voice, a bit reedy rather than resonant, 'Are you finished with your plate, sir?'

I looked up and saw him for the first time, not that I had not seen him, but I had not noticed him as a person. His eyes, eyes of pale blue grey, quiet and at the same time intense. His blond hair and blond skin were set off by patches of high color on his cheeks. The lips were not very thick and colored a warm rose just darker than his cheek. Above his eyes were full brows angled in a peak like a French circumflex. He had a quirky humorous look, hair mussed in that practiced disheveled style of the young.

Words would have spoiled the moment. I rose and brushed my hand against his almost hairless cheek. He smiled and fixed those pale eyes at me. I drew closer till I could smell the Italian garlic on his breath. My nose touched his face and my eyes went out of focus trying to see his eyes at such a close intimacy.

I embraced him and felt his hands on my back. We opened our mouths and I tasted the spices on his tongue and mouth. My fingers ran through his hair dressed with some fragrant mouse or oil. Damp, I cupped the back of his neck in slipperiness and pressed our lips tightly together.

His nimble fingers started to unbutton my shirt. I started to do the same, but in my excitement I could not make them work. I grabbed the front and ripped it off. I stepped back, breathless and looked at the slender white flat torso. He was not an athlete, but had the boyish slim body covered in a soft fine layer of fat. He was no gym goer but appeared to get his exercise by walking to work and playing occasional pickup sports. I put my hand on his stomach. My hand still slippery from his hair, I felt the smooth whiteness of his skin. I wrapped myself back around him and down inside his pants to feel his round buttocks.

Somehow we fell in a pile naked upon the table. My nose sought out the ripe rich smell under his arm. Wispy soft blond hairs greeted me there. I licked his breast and gently bit down on the skin around his nipple. With my tongue I could feel the taut erection of that nipple.

His skin, his smell, his sight filled my senses. I lost track of myself and my feelings. Only he was in my attention. I reached down, first with my hands and then with my head and mouth, looking. I was searching for his penis. Down his flat stomach, grasping the dimpled depressions of is ass - there it was. Perched, erect, in the arrow made by his slender legs. He was natural, not circumcised, just a shade darker than the rest of his skin. No curves or hooks in his dick, but straight and pulled up tight against his abdomen. Not that big, but perfectly shaped and as straight as a cigar.

His balls were the kind that pull up tight in a bunch, high at the base of his cock. They were pulled up tight, excited and leathery, not soft and flaccid. I smelled the wispy blond hairs of his pubic area. There were no deodorants but the musky smell of his nature. I felt the spring of his penis, pulling itself toward his stomach as I sucked him in.

I worked and sucked and pumped as his body writhed under my hands. He would not give up his sperm easily. Finally his body seemed to start quivering and jerking and shooting into my throat wit a huge series of waves of cum.

We lay for a long moment as I swallowed and continued to suck at him. I looked up to see a soft gentle smile, closed eyes and peaceful tensionless relaxation. With a pause, he sat up to grab at his pants. I thought he was going to dress but he got something out of his wallet.

I followed him as he walked into the women's bathroom. I was mesmerized by watching at close proximity, his pretty moving ass. Each round dimpled bun moved on the other as he walked. He stopped at the women's fainting couch, turned and ripped open a packaged condom. I felt his adept fingers on my cock. He bent down to kiss the head of my penis, then sat on the couch with his heels by his ass, presenting himself to me.

I put each leg up on my shoulder and looked into his steely grey blue eyes. Looking down his compact and perfect penis which had retracted into his foreskin. The triangle of his package were there for my eyes to enjoy. My penis touched his anus. He looked right at me as I pushed inside. A bit of a wince was followed by a gentle contented smile. I was so excited by sucking him off and seeing him spread out in front of me, I was not long pumping at his ass.

I do not remember dressing or actually leaving the restaurant. I was in a fog of post coital pleasure. It was no disrespect that we never spoke, in sex. It was just what the situation demanded. Words would have messed it up.

One thing I will remember. No one has given themselves to me more freely or more completely in sex.