His lips were soft. Possibly the softest lips I have ever kissed.
It is not like he is effeminate in any way, but just the softest that have ever touched my own mouth.
The irony was not lost on me, as we were in a brief set of woods, slated to do the nasty. Yet here I was - doing, and about to do, two things I normally refrain from during most of my hook-ups: kiss and fuck.
He and I had been chatting for a long long time - and how he wanted my load. He is one of the few bottoms I chat with that actually turns me on by his stories. I don't like to live vicariously through other bottoms, and I am not, but his tales do make me stiffen up.
He was coming through town, but only for an hour or so. I made arrangements to meet him close to the airport where he could get away and still have time for his final destination.
I knew of a cemetery bathroom to use, but as I was waiting for him, I found a nearby set of woods that didn't seem to be used. I even took a stroll back there waiting for his arrival and scoped it all out. I think we'd be fine and we'd be able to hear them coming from a long ways off.
He eventually showed and I escorted him back into the woods and then into a clearing. That is where our lips touched. The soft lips. While they didn't last long, we'd revisit each other's lips during our encounter.
Our time was limited and we had an agenda - he'd get my load, but I'd get his too. I'm too much of a bottom just to give up my dick and my load without something in return. I'm selfish. I fully admit it.
The guy (no name) turned me around so he was behind me. As he was mostly a bottom (too), he struggled a little to maintain an erection to get it into me. Of course I was understanding, as I know that has always been my lot in life and would be again - in about 10 minutes.
Trial and error, but he got in and up me. He warned me days ahead of time, he would be quick. He's not accustomed to fucking and the associated stimuli. True to his word, it was not a long fuck, but I think it went longer than either of us thought - at least based on the information he provided.
He groaned as his swimmers went into my ass. Now it was his turn.
I think I'd make a decent top with two things - the mental status of wanting to be one and if I took viagra. If I could keep my cock hard, a whole new population of homos would love me. And while the drug would override (I'm assuming) the mental aspect of me not being a top - it's just not where I want to be.
I think if you read other blogs, guys are clearly one or the other. Some are truly versatile, but those are few and far between, even if they write that way. You can see a pattern of who they are; what they prefer.
I prefer bottom, but I made a promise and I would do my best to fulfill it.
I would get very hard as we worked our way to penetration, but I always have trouble at that point and that day was no exception. Our verbal foreplay helped. I know things about him - his early sexual experiences, that right or wrong, turn me on.
That talk is what would get me hard, we had to keep up the discussion to keep me hard. After I was in, I think we were golden.
I lasted quite a bit longer. Actually, I was having trouble getting past the brink. I could feel me getting to the edge of that proverbial cliff, but I couldn't jump. For the life of me, I don't know what finally did it, but I went.
...and I shot....and shot....and shot. I had build up quite a load over the days prior to and I made sure he got everything I had stored.
We left the small bottle of lube back there. We left the handi-wipe he brought back to clean off our dicks (what a boy scout!). Anthropologists from the future will know exactly what took place back there - at least to a certain degree.