As Tuesday afternoon drew to a close, I was wondering whether Vim would put me off again. I was hoping that he wouldn't since that would mean either going home and having a quiet evening or going home and looking for sex, and we all know which of those I'd choose. Looking for sex often ends up in a really good time, as it had on Monday, but there is always an off chance that I won't find anyone suitable. Also, given how much fun Vim had been, there was the likelihood that whoever I ended up with would be not as much fun as he, perhaps by a large margin. I would estimate the probability of finding no one at all to be about 10%. And, assuming a successful hookup, I would estimate the level of enjoyment to be normally distributed around a mean of 50% as much fun as Vim, so if the expected value Vim is 1.0, the expected value of not-Vim would be only about 0.45. It is probably just as well that I only think of expected value calculations long after the fact. When I'm in the middle of a two-star encounter, I'm just having a lot of fun, and it's only a two-star counter after the fact. I blame the follow-up analysis on a secondary and post-secondary education that over-emphasized quantitative methods.
Anyway, I called Vim around 6, and he said that he was in the middle of his commute and would be home around 7, and he would greatly appreciate twenty minutes of post-arrival, pre-coital time. He may not have said it exactly like that. In any case, I told him I'd see him around 7:30, and he said that would be fine.
I got to his place just before 7:30, but apparently he had only just arrived, because after I kissed him at the door and followed him into the bedroom and watched him undress and let him undress me and kissed him some more and sucked on his nipples until we were both gasping, he leaped up from the bed and said, "I'm really sorry, but I haven't eaten anything all day, and I'm starving," and, well, he's the sort of person who cannot do anything without being adorable, so I smiled and relaxed for a minute, and when he returned, he tasted of sweet potato pie.
So, in addition to being only 24, Vim is only 5'4, and he weighs only 125 pounds, so when, some time later, he insisted on riding me, I could definitely feel my cock being gripped in the most pleasant of ways, but without having to support any additional weight. It must be what it's like to fuck a fleshlight, only I'm guessing that's a lot less fun, just because almost everything is a lot less fun than fucking Vim. The things that are not less fun than fucking Vim include making out with him and, most notably, eating his ass. And probably having him go down on me, though much more so when the him-going-down-on-me thing is combined with the my-eating-his-ass thing. Anyway, before the fucking and after the initial making out and the sweet potato pie, I kissed him and then sucked on his nipples until he could no longer resist leaping up and either a) going down on me (three times) or b) getting more pie (once). And then, on the third time around, I finally pulled him around so that I could shove my tongue into him while twisting his nipples. I did that until he sat up, and then I did it some more until he asked if I would fuck him. I would. I did.
We started out with him on top, facing me and bouncing up and down while I reached up and played with his nipples. He never likes what I'd call rough nipple play, but when he's being fucked, he asks for them to be pulled more firmly, and, hey, I'm a guest, I do what I'm told.
We fucked in a lot of positions and for a long time, and we both liked every one. Typically, my favorite was with him on his back. He's very flexible, so I could grab his calves and push his feet down over his head and get a really good angle on his prostate. In that position, most guys seem entirely overwhelmed with some combination of either pain or more sensation than they can process and sheer pleasure, but Vim's pleasure was unalloyed. He turned his head and closed his eyes, and smiled the sort of smile that you hope you'll see all the time in heaven. Bliss. Bliss is very intoxicating, so I kept pounding him for a long time.
Eventually I needed a break and he needed more pie, and then we resumed with him back sitting on my cock, but I felt surfeited with pleasure, so I lay next to him and we kissed, and I played with his nipples and, eventually, I grabbed his cock and began to stroke him while sucking his nipple and, after what seemed like a highly appropriate interval, he said, "You're going to make me cum," and I said, "I know."
And, of course, after that, there's always the post-coital let down, but there wasn't. We kissed for a while, and he smiled, and he eventually grabbed a towel and cleaned the ejaculate off himself, and we chatted about his (many, many) food allergies, and he went for another piece of pie, whose crust, apparently, was made with millet and spelt and something else, and he lay back down and ate it, and his skin is smooth and dark, and it glows, so the crumbs of the crust were apparent upon it, and I sucked them quickly off his skin, whereupon it became clear that he is highly ticklish.
He was telling me about his boyfriend and saying that we should probably finish up because he was hungry and he had to cook because he was too lazy to dress and go out, and he ended up telling me about a very good Indian restaurant in Silver Spring that I had not previously heard of, and I said that perhaps we could go there some evening after sex, and he said why not now, so we went. The food was great, and so was the company: he converses nearly as attractively as he smiles. It's just as well that he has a boyfriend; otherwise, I might become infatuated with him, especially since he seems very eager to have me come back, and I will not get attached to anyone so young.
I am not accustomed to being so attracted to youth, and given how much of my sexual activity and interest still revolves around men my age and older, I don't think it's Vim's youth that attracts me so much as his intelligence and smile and lips and nipples and ass (not in that order, but they're all really nice), and probably the fact that he's already attached. But there is something about the young, right? I mean, that something -- the innocence, the glow -- is generally overmatched by all of the annoyances that accompany immaturity, but in the rare case when they're not, and you've just had incredible sex with a guy who subsequently introduces you to an awesome Indian restaurant, and you're sated on lust and lamb saag, and you've had to ask for the checks because your very charming and perhaps even more sated companion is falling asleep while smiling at you, and you leave the restaurant, and he leaps up the parking garage steps two at a time, with a lightness and grace surely borrowed from some young gazelle, well, maybe you've had the best hook-up ever.
Or at least the best hook-up so far. I'm still young, after all.