It was a pleasure to just look at his pics. There was never a hint of sex between us, just a casual conversation, maybe a friend, a guy who loves men and women, and who happens to have a fantastic body [because he relentlessly works at it]. He responded regularly to my comments on GRINDR, and we continued that connection.
I learned that he was due to make a major move in a few weeks--out of the country--, but I also knew that we could continue to chat, and have that friendly relationship. But, I was eager to meet him...not for sex, just to say hi, chat, listen to what he really sounded like, and experience him as a real person and not just a photo. It is not unusual for me to want the real flesh and blood. I just find it to be such a different and usually better experience.
We went along for several weeks, sending the occasional message, and, in the process, learning more about each other. I won't reveal information that might identify him, but I will say that the more I learned about his past and his current direction, the more impressed I was. During one exchange, I was getting a little bolder and started chatting about fucking and BJs, even sending him a photo of me being sucked by a buddy. When his response was, "Hey, that's my job.", our relationship moved to a new level. I was giddy with excitement.
At the invitation of a friend for a weekend visit, I was going to pass within a few miles of him. I had to ask to meet. Just for coffee or a drink or whatever, but to meet with no thought, guarantee or even a suggestion of sex. [Yeah, I wanted it, but never dreamed that it might actually happen.] I was excited when he agreed. Like I said, I really enjoy meeting other nice guys for discussion or anything. Due to a last minute change of plans, he was in a hotel very close to me...checking in about the same time I had to leave town. I changed my plans, last minute, to spend a few hours with him...at his hotel, one of those old grand hotels with the two story lobby, grand staircase, all dark woods, and fancy carpet.
I was a bit disappointed that he wanted to meet in the lobby and not in his room, but not overly so. After all, our meeting had never been assumed or alluded to be sexual in nature, just a get together to know each other a bit better. I called his cell as instructed to tell him I had arrived, "I'll be right down to the lobby. I am wearing a white shirt with green shorts".
The next few minutes were nerve racking for me. I had thought about what he probably looked like [photos don't ever fully prepare you for the first meeting], how he would greet me, and, of course, I had spent way too much timing thinking about what to say. The elevator opened, and out walked the fittest man I have ever seen in my life. He had nice tennies on, great looking legs, a pair of shorts that perfectly fit his very trim waist, and a shirt that was tight enough to accent a chest that never quits. And his smile, was/is infectious. I am pretty sure I just stood there staring for WAYYYY too long.
I finally recovered, shook hands, greeted each other and we started looking for someplace that was at least semi-private to sit and chat. Nothing else seemed to work, so we ended up in the hotel bar.
I had a few beers with him, mid-afternoon where we talked about everything from kids to politics to world peace. He is one of those guys who makes you feel so very comfortable being with him. He oozes a comfortable confidence, and makes one feel at ease. Quite often, my mind would wander as I looked at him, his face, his lips, and imagined what it would be like to kiss him. After two beers, and a lot of great talk, a lull in the conversation proved it was obviously time to end the meeting and move on.
With two beers for courage, and the knowledge that I may never see him again, I just had to ask him if I was going to get to try out that kiss. I expected the worst, but he just looked at me and said, "Yes".
It took way too long to pay the bill, but we finally got through that, left the bar, and moved on up the grand staircase, to the main elevators. I followed him like a puppy to his room, past other guests, past the maids, and he greeted them all like a he had known them for years. He opened his door, as I went on in, I walked past him a bit and stood in the entry hall. He locked the door and turned around and stood in front of me. Not a word was spoken as our lips grew closer together. It wasn't a vicious attack, but a natural coming together, tongues gently fighting each other. With neither of us backing off, it was at least five minutes before our lips parted from that first kiss. We finally broke apart after what seemed like 20 minutes, after some groping, and then kicked off our shoes, moving on to the bed.
I typically keep my hands as busy as my mouth when I am kissing, I was rubbing and squeezing his back, his arms, the back of his head, and of course his ass cheeks. I could not find one bit of loose skin to pinch...he was all muscle. Finally, he got up to get something in the bathroom, and came back bare naked. A breathtaking sight.
And, he wanted my cock, "Let me see" he said. Finally, here I was, bare naked on a bed in the middle of the afternoon with the fittest, most attractive man I had ever seen. He wanted my cock and my cum, and I wanted to give it to him in the worst way. But, it was not to be...he had a time commitment that he could not miss. Then, my performance anxiety set in. Despite the best blowjob that I have ever experienced, he was not going to get anything but some pre-cum from me today.
I knew he had to leave, was worried about the time, and just couldn't go on. As I was getting dressed he made me promise to give him two loads the next time...I owe him one from today, and the next one as well.
I am not even a semblance of the physical specimen that I need to be to play in the same park as him. As much as I want to spend time with him, a part of me is ready to accept that we will never do that again. I will continue to try, to be available, but most importantly, he has made me more resolute to get into the shape I need to be in. Every time I reach for an unhealthy snack, I think of him and I don't eat it. Every time I feel too sore to get up for my run or walk, I think of him. Every time I know that I just can't make it that last 1/2 mile, I think of him.
Someday, I may have a chance to meet again, and next time, I will be more than ready. In the meantime, I have those memories, and I will revisit this often to keep things going.