Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Recently, I had an encounter with a Cambodian guy who contacted me through an older-for-younger board. He lives in Petaluma, a fair distance from San Francisco. We e-mailed each other a number of times and then spoke on the phone. He even used the M word, that is, Monogamy. I wondered how I could promise I guy I had never seen to be monogamous with him.
He drove all the way to SF to meet me, getting seriously lost. But eventually he found my house. He claimed to be 33 but looked 23 - the oriental optical distortion? Rather cute and *very* intelligent. After five years in this country he spoke English quite well.
He brought me a musical box as a gift. I invited him for lunch. On the way he told me that he liked women and . . . older men, especially their upper bodies. He told me I would be his first man. We had a pleasant lunch and an interesting conversation, mostly about Cambodia.
When we returned, I made coffee for us, and we chatted some more. Some thirty minutes later I persuaded him to join me in the sex room. While I stood in front of him naked, so he could admire my upper body, he was reluctant to take off his clothes. But finally he complied, and we made it into the bed. He refused to kiss - as we had agreed upon - because of an alleged cut in his mouth. Serves me right. I had lied about my age, he about kissing! He said he wanted to play with my body - lifting me this way and that, and fondling my muscles. He was extremely shy about his tiny penis but I finally took it in my mouth. For such a small instrument even I am a master blower. It took ten seconds, I exaggerate, five seconds, before he climaxed.
THE END
After the curtain fell, he didn't mind talking to me, but sexually he was spent and, probably, somewhat disgusted. He took a long shower, to cleanse his body and soul. I decided that I would be better off resting by myself, and bade him adieu.
Had my book "Dirty Young Men" not have been published already, I could have had another story. As I wrote in that book, I was well in my fifties when a young guy first used me as a sex object. I thought it would be fun, helping to enhance my self-image. Actually, all such encounters have left me empty.
He drove all the way to SF to meet me, getting seriously lost. But eventually he found my house. He claimed to be 33 but looked 23 - the oriental optical distortion? Rather cute and *very* intelligent. After five years in this country he spoke English quite well.
He brought me a musical box as a gift. I invited him for lunch. On the way he told me that he liked women and . . . older men, especially their upper bodies. He told me I would be his first man. We had a pleasant lunch and an interesting conversation, mostly about Cambodia.
When we returned, I made coffee for us, and we chatted some more. Some thirty minutes later I persuaded him to join me in the sex room. While I stood in front of him naked, so he could admire my upper body, he was reluctant to take off his clothes. But finally he complied, and we made it into the bed. He refused to kiss - as we had agreed upon - because of an alleged cut in his mouth. Serves me right. I had lied about my age, he about kissing! He said he wanted to play with my body - lifting me this way and that, and fondling my muscles. He was extremely shy about his tiny penis but I finally took it in my mouth. For such a small instrument even I am a master blower. It took ten seconds, I exaggerate, five seconds, before he climaxed.
THE END
After the curtain fell, he didn't mind talking to me, but sexually he was spent and, probably, somewhat disgusted. He took a long shower, to cleanse his body and soul. I decided that I would be better off resting by myself, and bade him adieu.
Had my book "Dirty Young Men" not have been published already, I could have had another story. As I wrote in that book, I was well in my fifties when a young guy first used me as a sex object. I thought it would be fun, helping to enhance my self-image. Actually, all such encounters have left me empty.
Labels: Dirty Young Men
