My Partners are Holiday Gone Pt. 04

(This is the final, and reasonably short)

My hopes for Saturday were quashed. Hookup apps were dominated by bots, fakes and flakes. I decided 'fuck it' and went to the gym. Later, I got a call from work that sidetracked me for a while.

The dude right near my gym was unavailable, so my night was spent watching 'Shin Godzilla' with the dog.

Sunday it wasn't much better. I did find out that a butcher shop I occasionally visit in Atlanta was open and had some interesting steaks. I mapped the 35 minute trip and set out.

Of course my libido woke up as I neared the bathhouse. I had four hours till the butcher's closed.

The spa was absolutely packed. The steam room, sauna, pool and most of the 'activity' areas were crowded with all sorts of play going on. Some guys are jacking each other. Some were blowing. Four guys congregated around a young black man getting spit roasted by two others.

There were seats available in the steam room, so I took one. I was fortunate as I was directly across from a young guy, a tapestry of tattoos from neck down, going down on a solid fellow about my age, bald with a generous mustache and goatee.

The man performing the oral was astonishing. He was sucking the older off in the 'actual' manner. Backing off periodically with a flurry of tongue action, spending most of his time nose to groin.

I was erect instantly. Visual cues drive me nuts. I can keep my cool around nudity, like the Friday night party, but if I spend any time around genuine erotic displays, I'm hard faster than a peach in liquid nitrogen.

Where I'd sat was somewhat near a white guy in probably his mid 30's, a bit taller than me and a bit heavier than average. He wore his towel tightly around his waist and was seemingly ignoring the generous bulge underneath it.

Personally, I stripped off my towel, folded it and placed it on the boiling tile seat.

Only a few minutes after I arrived, a slender black guy somewhere in his 50's sat directly next to me on the other side, our thighs making contact. I glanced at him and nodded, taking in his appearance.

A bit over six feet tall, well built but still skinny. Powerful legs, he gave me the impression of a cyclist. His hair situation was the same as the guy getting blown in front of me.

He'd done the same thing I had with his towel, but where I was pointing at an almost exact 45° angle and just under 6", his half-hard uncut prick had an inch on me and was leaning in at 30° off horizontal. It was gorgeous.

I'd taken all of this in over the course of three seconds while nodding 'Hey' his way. Ten seconds later his hand went to my cock.

The first step everyone should examine when performing oral on anyone of any gender is to check into what their trigger points are. Spend a few minutes trying every technique you can think of and pay attention to their reaction. That's your focus.

It works with hands too, and this guy was deft. Varying pressure, exploration with his fingers. Quickly, he was fully hard. He didn't get any longer, most just a bit thicker.

Which I could tell, now that I was gripping him. He was into light, delicate finger work. Any attention to his head, particularly when you pulled his foreskin downwards, was a sharp inhale.

As I was just thinking about going to my knees in front of him, he dropped to his. I went between his lips quickly and...it seemed...urgently.

He was very good with his hand. He was better with his mouth. I leaned back and rest my hands on the warm seat, letting his technique lull me into a glow.

A few seconds later I felt someone touch my left hand. The guy on the other side had slid closer to watch. The towel was removed and his decently long, thin prick bobbed with excitement.

When he saw me glance at it, he took my hand and placed it on him. He was probably just under seven inches, with a tapering head, and wrinkled, loose circumcision scar. My hand rubbed along him and felt his varying erectile width below the outer flesh of him.

My first impression was that he had the perfect cock to teach someone anal. Tapered just right and with enough detail in his width to let you practice your 'grip'.

The guy around my dick was very, very good. Not good enough to get me off, hardly anyone was, but good enough to keep me going.

I have this psychological thing when it comes to getting head. It's not that I don't love it, quite the opposite. I absolutely love it. It's one of those sensations that when you couple it with the mental element... like, here's you. There's a person in front of you, on their knees or any other position, and you're the sole focus of their sexuality at that moment. They may have a vested interest in something more selfish, but in that moment, they're worshiping your flesh.

Sure, it's hyperbolic, but that's where my head goes. I don't cum from it because I want it to go on forever. It's the moment where all that exists is the pleasure that I receive.

A few long moments passed. The guy next to me moved his hands to his chest and began to pinch and pull at his nipples. His prick surged in my hand at the sensation.

The man blowing me had picked up his pace. I felt that it wasn't for me. His attention to my trigger points had gone in favor of something more visceral for him.

My suspicions were confirmed as I felt a warm splash of thick fluid against my ankles and feet. He pulled away from me, still jacking himself as he stared at my prick.

My attention moved to the guy next to me as his labored breathing picked up and I felt him twitch in my hand. A viscous glob came out of him and rolled over my fingers. A second, then a third as I continued my slow pace.

Immediately after the fourth he grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away, "sensitive!" He whispered urgently. I nodded.

He followed with a 'thank you', stood up and left. A second later the man still on his knees said, "Yeah man, thanks!" Then he stood and walked away.

If you've read anything I've written, mostly I bottom. This is less because I prefer it and more that it usually is 1. the position my partner prefers and 2. the better story.

My destiny this Sunday was to be a top.

I watched the guy who'd blown me and subsequently blown on me walk out. Turning back towards the action across from me, where the tattooed man now rode the other with a terrifying pace, I saw a new guy standing next to me. Someone who'd been lost in the dark fog.

He was thin to the minimum requirements of 'healthy'. Just to where you weren't scared for his life. He was also one of the shortest guys I'd seen in recent history, nearly a foot shy of my 5'9". Dark skin, dark eyes and dark hair that only existed on his head. High cheekbones, delicate lips.

In fact, that was the word that fit, 'Delicate'.

His erect prick was out of proportion. Not overly large, but of average length and slightly above average girth. He was such a small guy that his cock looked huge. Uncut, his head was completely hooded with some to spare.

Once he was inches away he reached down to my groin. His hand was slick, "You fuck?" I nodded.

Thinking he'd sit on me, I didn't move until I noticed he'd knelt intimately close on the tile bench.

As I stood, the heat nearly made me swoon. It kick-started my awareness and I took position behind him.

His ring looked practiced. Not a tight bud like mine, but not a gaping thing either. Somewhere in the vast middle area but closer to me.

My shaft in hand, I pointed home.

He spread easily to take me and just as my head entered, he relaxed and cinched around me. He pushed back lightly as I complimented with a press.

Two times he pulled away and went back to get a better fit. Moments later I was fully inside.

My boyfriend Tyler is a pretty stout guy. When you fuck him, there's definitely a place to keep your hands on his hips. Mel is a curvy gal but the situation is similar.

What my hands on this guy's hips felt like was a girl I'd dated some twenty years prior. She'd been small and delicate as well, but could take a pounding.

Clearly, so could this guy. He began punching backwards onto me. Well, I can give a good as I get.

I took control, pushing him at least three inches away every time and yanking him back hard, feeling my sack slap his taint hard.

It felt amazing. Tyler is tighter than this guy, but there's an element with Tyler that changes the act. With this guy there wasn't anything like that. I could go at my pace, with my own thought process.

The thick fog of the room muffled the noises between us. The contact of my hips and his ass, the wet noises as my shaft slid away, the little grunts as my fast pace took a toll on my heated head.

But it got me close. I have a smart watch, so I couldn't wear it in and had no idea what the time was, but it felt like I'd been going for only minutes when it started to hit me. I was gonna cum. And soon.

He just seemed so...pliable. He felt so small underneath my fingers and moved exactly the way I wanted. His clear experience belied his age. I've been with an almost embarrassing number of people in my life, but rarely has someone had this balance of 'submissive' and 'need'.

So the psychological as much as the visual, my shining prick vanishing into his hole, as much as the physical, his grip on me, the clear ability to manipulate his muscles, parts of his body that are normally involuntary, even his breathing. All of this contributed to the moment.

My hands dug into him as I yanked him into me. I felt everything as the shot rolled down from my body, through my shaft, the threshold of my head and exploded inside.

I couldn't count the number of times I pulsed as I pulled him tighter and tighter towards me. His asshole clenched desperately while the waves crashed downwards.

His left hand came away from the wall and reached to my ass, pulling me into him as if I could go further. Somewhere in the midst of that I pushed his chest against the wall as I leaned.

A moment...too soon...later my head swam. The heat, the effort, my skyrocketing blood pressure. I pulled my hands away and abruptly pulled out, near staggering out the door and into the shower room.

I existed in a post-orgasm haze all the way back to the cubicle they consider a 'room' and glanced at my phone. Somehow I'd spent almost an hour and a half in the place. I had 45 minutes to get to the butcher's.

My pants were just on as the young, waif-like guy walked by and into my room, shutting the door.

"I've got to get a shop real quick. I'd love to..." was all I got out.

"Can I see your phone?" his voice was as soft and lilting as he looked. I unlocked it and handed it to him. He entered a number. "You need to call me sometime. You're the best I've had in months."

He stood on his tiptoes and kissed my cheek. "See you soon!"

I glanced at the number and name, Luis.

I might call that number. I'd have to see.