In September 2000, I was on vacation in Los Angeles. I was supposed to meet this guy I had been chatting with for a couple of months. From our conversation, it was clear that we were going to do it, but I was not prepared for the intensity.
He arrived 4 hours late and although I was pissed, we still went out. He took me to the Santa Monica pier and we walked all around. The stars were out and I think it was a full moon. We were walking along the water's edge and suddenly the moment became very romantic. We kissed under the stars, right there on the beach in Santa Monica, in front of God and everyone.
I was staying at a shitty little EconoLodge back in downtown LA and we headed back there as fast as we could. Back in my room, we explored each others bodies and he shivered every time i touched him. When I first started playing with his ass, he shreiked and put a pillow in his mouth to keep from screaming to loud. He was a great kisser and loved straddling me so he could kiss my lips and neck while I fingered him. That only made me want him even more. He produced alot of lubrication (the kids call is santorum now, after the anti-gay senator), so much so that the bed was literally soaked. I didnt have to use any lube when I fucked him.
Entering him for the first time was like putting on a pair of tight gloves. He started crying and I thought I had hurt him, but he told me he sometimes cried when it felt really good. We fucked all over that room, in every position. When the sensation got too much for him he would collapse under me, a problem I solved by making him kneel in a chair so he couldn't get away. I fucked him for so long in that chair that my leg got numb. His screams got so loud at one point that the manager knocked on the door because of complaints. We even knocked the headboard off the wall.
We spent the whole week together, fucking in the hotel room, at his aunt's house, foolling around in my rental car and at the Griffith Observatory. It was more than just sex though, we had a really good time in each other's company. He was smart and funny and literate and if we lived on the same coast, we both knew that we would be together. We were logical though, and knew that we had to enjoy it while it lasted.
And so it was, that in the summer of my 29th year, that I experienced my first, and so far only, summer love affair.
1 comment:
b, that was among the coolest intimate stories I read in quite a while. thanks for sharing.
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