« In the Mood For Love | Main | Back room »
August 22, 2005
Plenty of P but not enough P
I went to Club Body Center last night. I went a few weeks ago on a Sunday night and had a really good time. Last night, unfortunately, was not very much fun. First of all, when I got to my room the door was open and the bedding was rumpled. The sheet and pillow case seemed clean, though, so I used the room anyway. I figured the attendant left the door open when he changed the bedding and someone co-opted the room for a couple of minutes. Big deal. Besides, the staff are so easily distracted at check-in that I figured something like this would completely baffle them.
The room was in a corner, not a bad location. Across from me were two guys sitting on the bed chatting away as if they were out on the street. It was incredibly annoying. Their conversation could be heard everywhere on the second floor. And they were talking about…decorating! “My living room is white. NO ONE sits in my living room!” Ugh. Nothing ruins the mood like chatty queens. I knew saying something to them would brand me as THE asshole of the night, so I endured it for about fifteen minutes. Then I went onto the deck to finish off a nice Excalibur 1066. The deck would pretty nice if the air conditioning exhaust didn’t constantly blow across it. Disgusting. Still, it was good to sit outside naked, smoking a cigar.
The video room was showing the same Active Duty video over and over. I love Dink but this one was a dud. The guy being jerked off was so drunk, he was completely zombie-fied.
One of the very few guys I was attracted to was a very cute, short, dark guy with a shaved head, nicely hairy chest and a goatee. When I passed him near the stairs he nearly snapped his neck trying to avoid eye-contact. And I wasn’t even trying! I mean, you’re cute and all and I’m sure you get hit on all the time but honestly, you’re in a bathhouse completely naked! People are gonna look at you. This guy looked at me like i was a bug or something. I have no problem with rejection but, please, don’t make a show of it.
When I got back to my room, Interior Decorating 101 was, thankfully, over. I know I’ve said before that Club Body Center was not the ground zero of Philadelphia crystal meth use but I may have to retract it. While I was cruising the halls I noticed a group of about ten guys who seemed to be together, darting from room to room and constantly chatting. The guys across from me were two of them. They pretty much all looked the same: shaved heads, shaved bodies, lean, a little muscular. Anonymous, in other words. The short guy might have been with them, too. Another one of them was a real standout. His hair was buzzed, he had stubble on his very cute face and trimmed chest hair and a nicely defined torso. He was wearing surfer-type trunks. He was a beauty. He walked by my room a couple of times and he’d always slow down and smile.
I resigned myself to lying on the bed, stroking. It was dismal. I swear, I saw no sex whatsoever going on anywhere. I gave myself a time limit of three hours, 1:00AM. If nothing happened by then, I would go home. [Beating a dead horse reference deleted.]
A fat, old man poked his head in. “How are you?” “Good. No thanks, though.” He edged in a little more. “No thanks!” He kept coming! “Can I just rub it?” He touched my dick!! “I SAID NO THANKS!”. He left. (I normally don’t say things like “fat, old man,” since I am one, but this moron deserves it.)
12:45: The surfer-shorts-wearing tweaker came in, closed the door and sat on the bed. He was fucking beautiful and extremely masculine but definitely someone I would never expect to be interested in me. He looked at me and said, “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” Trying to hide my intense disappointment, I replied, “That's cool. No problem.” This was indeed the icing on the fucking cake. Then a miracle occurred. It was like the last two sentences never happened. Instead of leaving, he reached behind him and started stroking my dick! I rubbed his furry chest. Then, “So, what do you get into?” I was nearly speechless. I said, “Whatever you got but I don’t get fucked.” “Do you party at all?” “Sometimes, not much.” His voice was just a whisper and he said everything really, really fast. I had to keep asking him to repeat himself and put my ear close to his mouth. He told me he was here with some friends. They were upstairs “chilling and partying” and he’d be back in a few minutes. Then he left. My hopes were not high but I had nothing to lose except my pride. I waited.
He was back within ten minutes. He came in, took off his shorts and sat down. He talked a lot through our entire encounter in the same whisper. It was really frustrating but he explained that the guys across the hall were friends and he didn’t want them to hear him. OK, Mr. Paranoid. I told him I liked to fuck but he said he wasn’t into that. He asked me if I liked groups, which I definitely do, and wanted details about where and when. He also had a lot of instructions: he will lie like this and I will kneel over him like this and he will suck my dick like this. It was typical tweaker behavior. He asked me whether I liked to shoot, smoke or snort, leading me to believe he was a slammer. He was a great cocksucker but, like most tweakers, he couldn’t do anything for longer than a few seconds without stopping to talk or adjust something. He did manage to deep throat me a couple of times. I fingered his nicely hairy hole which was lubed. I said “You want to get fucked, don’t you?” He said no, that he had a toy upstairs he’d like to use but made no effort to go get it.
As hot as this guy was, I was getting frustrated and I wanted to shoot and go home. Being high, he could have gone on like this for hours so I took control of the situation. I told him, if he wanted my load, I was gonna have to lie down. I wanted to feel his furry body next to mine anyway. He kissed me while I stroked myself. He was very good at that too. I told him to suck on my nipple and that did the trick. I almost exploded. He got down and swallowed it, licking my fingers and balls to get it all. He laid next to me again and continued kissing me. He said that he loves the feeling of having other men’s cum in his body and that he takes loads from all kinds of men, skinny, fat, young and old. I could see he was a closet pig. (Don’t tell his friends!) By then his beautiful fat dick was rock hard. I stroked it and he asked me to rub my goatee on his nipples. He said, “You like to fuck, right?” I reiterated that I love it. “Cause now I want it.” GODAMMIT! I said maybe next time. We made out some more while he stroked and I worked on his nipples and neck and slightly odorous pits. They were delicious.
He finally said he didn’t want to keep me from playing with other guys and I said I was probably gonna just go home and he said he wished I’d stick around. I told him I was tired. He stood up and put his pants back on. I told him he was really hot and he, of course, said no he wasn’t. We kissed goodnight and that was that.
Was he worth waiting three hours for. Not really. Maybe if he hadn’t been so high or I got to fuck him. It was very nice for what it was and I ain’t complaining but…
Technorati Tags: Gay Sex
Posted by HighStrungLoner in Sex at 11:42 PM
Trackback Pings
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.thehighstrungloner.com/cgi-bin/mt4/mt-tb.cgi/246
