I'm a gasoline gut with a vaseline mind
He had one of those filty AOL names. He messaged me with "affectionate hairy guy here, too" obviously having read my profile. I said "hey" back as I loaded his profile. As I read through what was clearly not my cup of tea, he complimented me on my pic. Well, can't hurt to talk, right? Next, he sends his pic, and I immediately recognized him as that fuzzy hot guy from the West Village from many many months ago. Neither of us wanted to leave our air-conditioned apartments, but he left it at "if you change your mind, message me, I'd be very into it". A few more pleasantries, including "I might just do that" and I signed off.As I tried to busy myself with other tasks around the apartment, the details of that encounter came to me. Good kisser. Great hands. Nice fuzzy balls, good tongue, someone who could easily alternate cuddling and face-fucking. We even fell asleep together, still sticky; and when we woke up at 2a.m., he brought out 2 big bowls of ice cream. We had sex again, we napped some more. Ahhhhh.
Back online, I found his screenname, messaged him, and he seemed pleased. 10:30, apt #24, etc etc. 45 minutes later, after climbing the stairs, the door was ajar. Dark but for Bruno playing on the VCR, I walk in, and see he's already on the bed, his face in someone's crotch. Oh shit! This I didn't expect; I was really looking forward to having this affectionate hairy man to myself - he had even messaged that I was welcome to stay the night! Trying hard not to be an old fuddy duddy, I figured I'd check it out, I can always leave. I begin to remove the walkman, and then my shirt, and the buzzer goes off. He gets up, buzzes someone in, plants a long wet kiss on my mouth, then my ear, then whispers "I hope you can stay after they leave, I wanted to surprise you". My shirt's off, this other guy walks in, starts to pull out his wanger, and a 5th guy walks in, smoking a joint, offering it around. After 2 hits, my mouth is busy on a different joint.
Later, just the two of us, we snuggled, and his soft but firm hands caressed various parts of my body for the longest time. I was falling into that "massage zone" where you no longer feel particular parts of your body feeling good, just your entire body, and mind, feeling really good and taken care of. He used his beard like a sextoy, and he mumbled little satisfied grunts and groans. I made motions to leave twice, both times he urged me to cuddle a little longer. We even talked a bit, and while he plans on leaving the country for a few months, he wants to see me again before he leaves. Woah. He smells really good. He feels fantastic. He's a warm, affectionate slut! It's very confusing, but in a very cool way.
Le Tigre's disc in my walkman, I bounced my bike all the way back to the eastside at 2 a.m, then rode around aimlessly for awhile, bompalompalomp-ing to the beats. Grinning like mad, his aroma mixing with my sweat as I enjoyed the hot night's ride.
