One Bite of the Apple

The guy was hot. A cross between a DILF and a muscle Daddy. There was no question. He pushed every fucking button on the list. Tall? Enough. Muscular? Definitely. Nice cock? Absolutely. Great ass? Oh, yeah! And then some. The problem was the baggage.

The first time we met for coffee, went back to his place, and wasted no time getting down to business. And it was glorious. He hadn’t been fucked for a while and really wanted to get nailed. He’d been to the gym earlier, and was wearing those Nike workout tights that fit like a second skin, showcasing his packed thighs and sturdy, muscled butt. We were standing face-to-face I let my fingers slide down his back, slide down his crack, finger his hole a little bit and he was moaning like you wouldn’t believe. Ohhhhh, oooooo, ahhhhhh. He’s a big guy, but he moans and does that semi-masculine whimper as he gets fingered, even through the tights. Mmm-mmmmm! Boy, did his legs come up fast. And he’s ready for it, nice and clean, partially lubed, and a nice quick slick entry. As soon as we get going he’s humping back. And when we’re finished, quite successfully I might add, we rest in each others arms, and nuzzle a little, and then he wants it again, this time bent over the bed. He’s hot, I have no trouble getting it back up. And he’s verbal. “Oh yeah, make me your bottom bitch, Fuck me, fuck me!” I’m a little surprised, but I go with it. He’s older, but he’s fucking hot.

It’s afterwards that the weirdness sets in. Not while I’m there, but later when I want to get together again. All of a sudden he’s full of excuses. One after the other. I hate being the needy guy. Not my thing. But I like him, and I want to see him. I had a lot of fun; I think we could have a lot of fun together. We text and the texting is okay, but as soon as I ask if I can come over or suggest getting together - no response, radio silence. I see him at the gym and he’s all over himself being friendly and knowing me. So I blend vulnerability, honesty, and stupidity together sufficiently to tell him that I really like him. He tells me he really likes me. I suggest getting together. He says he doesn’t want to do anything too fast, he’s weird that way, that’s his thing. Standing close to him, I want to touch him so much. Jesus!

He has a health issue, about which I listen. He has a recent breakup, about which I listen. He has an annoying ex, about which I listen. I try to make sensible remarks, and helpful suggestions when appropriate. But mostly I listen. I can’t help thinking that he may not be a hundred percent in the right when he describes some of the interactions with his ex, but hey, he’s here, I’m not a judge, and did I mention, he’s hot.

I text, asking if he wants wants to get pizza. An hour later he responds, he’s just eaten. I ask if he wants to get a beer. His phone has died. Except it hasn’t. The Green Dot tells me he’s active on Grindr. Not that I can tell if he’s actually doing anything. But still.

I know he’s up early, and my drive to work takes me reasonably close to his apartment. When he says he’s down, I offer to stop by and snuggle for a few minutes, no strings, no expectations. No response. A day later he texts, saying that would have been nice. WTF?!

I tell him I’d just like to hang out. I know that bottoms can be anxious about spontaneous sex. I sent him a message, “I don’t want this to sound as if I have too many expectations but without getting too graphic I don’t mind if we hang out and don’t have sex so I don’t want your not being prepared at any given time of the day to be a reason for us to not see each other. I’m cool with whatever happens. I’d like to spend some time getting to know you more.” He replies, “No worries.”

The obtuseness reaches epic levels when I use the timer on my phone to snap a great selfie of me chopping wood. The timer gets me mid blow. I send it to him, saying, “Working off some steam, wanna grab a beer?”

His response, “Looking good. Great arms.”

I want to hurl my phone across the yard.

Without any big plan, I clear the decks for him; I tell my regular fuck buddy I want to take a break for a while. (He’s cool, we periodically do this to each other.) I gently put off the sweet little bear cub who’s been sniffing around, telling him clearly that I appreciate his interest, but I have something else going on already. The trouble is, nothing is going on. Not only am I not having sex, not with him, not with fuck buddy, not with bear cub, I’m not beating off because I want to have a nice big load ready to go, if he calls. This sucks. It totally blows. (The irony is not lost on me that those two phrases also mean something that’s the exact opposite.)

I see him at the gym again. He asks me, “How are you doing, what’s up, what’s happening?” He seems so open and friendly I decide to try it one last time. I tell him I really like him, and I keep a smile on my face the whole time trying to keep it light, not heavy, not serious, not threatening. I tell him he’s got me confused, that I think he’s super hot, that I like him, and that I’d like to get together. He squeezes my bicep, pulls me in for a hug, and tells me he feels the same way, and that he’ll call me or text me. Days go by.

I look myself in the mirror while brushing my teeth (and flexing my pecs), and tell myself how stupid I am, and I don’t let myself text him. Not even an emoji. I do think about him, while I’m driving, at work when it’s slow, lying in bed at night. I’m not in love. I’m mystified, that’s what I am, mystified. I can’t figure it out. It was such a good fuck. I know it was. Maybe that’s what life is like sometimes. You get one bite of the apple and then you still don’t know anything more than you did before.

One short text is all it takes and fifteen minutes later sweet little bear cub is at my door, hot and leaking for action, ready to slobber on my knob and skin down his stretched boxer briefs and eagerly spread his fat little furry rump. And I’m happy to give him every bit of attention he deserves. I’m balls-deep when my phone buzzes. It’s a text. From someone. I don’t know who, but I’m not stopping now.

Let me know if you enjoy. Or if you've experienced something similar, LOL. Happy reading! Petr