We sneaked little boxes of wine into the dinner theater Saturday and giggled as we passed them back and forth surreptitiously between our seats. We laughed at how much we’d enjoyed the blockbuster and decided to walk across the street to a bar for another drink.
Standing on the back deck sipping more wine I tried to explain how I felt about our connection. It was light, airy, easy, sexy as fuck. “You’re like my sexual brother, but that’s an awful thing to say about someone you want to fuck.” His face broke into a huge smile. He knew exactly what I meant.
I met Chase 4 weeks ago off of Adult Friend Finder. His profile read much like mine: mind is more important than form, sex is an art, passion is a pursuit, etc. He also had a beautiful cock.
We emailed some and quickly discovered we’re neighbors and moved to text. There was something about him that drew me in, a wording here and there, a punctuation. We decided to meet on a Monday night and hours before the date he texted that he had more sex than he knew what to do with, wanted me to know as much, but was compelled to meet me anyway. I appreciated his honesty and there was an underlining humor to his situation that made me smile.
That night we drank cider and talked like old friends and shared stories about our lovers, past and present. I liked hearing how he worried his dick was going to fall off due to all the action he was getting; he liked hearing how David liked to try to kill me with his giant cock.
I slipped my bra off when he went to get our second round and he moved his chair closer when he sat back down. There was a steady glow growing between us.
Back at his house, we surprised ourselves with a passionate embrace. Clothes came off, cock in mouth, mouth on cunt, titty-fucking, vulva massage, fucking fucking fucking. He spurted hot jizz all over me then got me a towel to clean up. I laid there and began to laugh. He began to laugh too.
“I had no idea I could cum again,” he said. “What a nice surprise!”
I met with him two weeks later and all we did was drink wine and talk. It confirmed what I felt that first night, that he is a brother in arms in this sexual battle-dance. We necked a little in his car and I went home satisfied as I was.
He’s lost some lovers since we first met, things have fizzled out, but the bulk of his efforts go to a girl who is insatiable. I suspect that some time soon I’ll lose him to her entirely as she seems much more open to a romantic coupling than me, but he’s still mine to play with for now, and as we tangled skin to skin Saturday night under a dark purple haze of wine and weed I wondered how she was handling her time away from him.
I wondered if she’d care that he wrapped the reins of my hair around his hand and pulled as he rammed into me from behind. I wondered if she minded that he beat my flanks with his hand and bit my nipples. I wondered if she got as wet as me as he pounded on top of me. I wondered if she begged him to cum rivers on her face and tits.
I woke up yesterday with crusty eyebrows and a film of semen caking my chest. I was upside down in the bed; he’d put a pillow under my head, though he was at the head of the bed. I sat up and looked around the dark room and felt for him.
“What time is it?” I asked him.
“Six,” he replied sleepily.
“I have to go take care of my dog,” I said in answer.
I love the morning-after puzzle of Where Did My Clothes Go? and we patted around the bed for a few minutes finding bits and pieces. At least I still wore my knee socks.
I came and sat next to him and nuzzled his neck as he pulled me closer. “Are you ok?” he asked. “I was really rough with you.”
“Yes, I’m perfect. You were great. Thank you.” I kissed him on the lips, my sexy brother, and quietly left. His dark curls disappeared against the dark sheets, his pale skin bright in the darkness.
I hope I know him for a while.