Well, I’m trying to stick to my abstinence rule. No sex with men for awhile.
But I’m home alone for four hours last night and Idris calls and we chat for a while and bingo…we have another great phone bone session.
Idris comes from the South and his voice has a honey-dipped inflection. The nigger can say the word “Fuck” and get your dick hard. He guides me through a hot sex scene. I close my eyes and let his voice shape my imagination:
I come to his place, all sweaty and funky from ripping and running all day. He greets me. We are the same height. We kiss passionately.
Then he drops down to my knees and opens my fly. My long dick is straining against my gray cotton boxer briefs. Precum is starting to stain the front of my boxers. He licks at my peter through the fabric. Then he pulls it out and smiles in appreciation because it is so black and ashy. My dick is dying to be lubricated with his spit and massaged with his tongue and lips.
Idris licks at my balls and dick, inhaling the musty man aroma. Then he really gets to work and deep throats my dick,. The fantasy ends with me banging his tight, masculine ass as hard as I can.
“Damn, Idris! Goddamn nigga! Take this dick! You know you want it!,” I practically yell over the phone. I masturbate furiously with just my spit wetting my dick. I cum furiously, the semen running down my penis shaft and all over my right hand.
I hear Idris moaning. He cums just a minute after me. I lay back, just breathing. I hear his breathe on the other end of the line. We take a minute to savor the moment and come down off a good nutt.
“I got to go clean up,” I finally say as I jump up to go to the bathroom sink.
“You still owe me one more nutt,” Idris jokes. We laugh. He is becoming a good friend.
I guess phone sex is all I will be doing and that is cool as long as its with Idris or somebody as good. I’m really trying to stick to the no-hookup rule. I was soon put to the test.
This morning (Saturday) I’m walking the dog and texts start popping on my cellphone. The first are from soldier boy, who is back in town for the July 4th holiday looking to make some sexual fireworks of his own.
“What are u up to?,” he texts.
“Just chilling…I may go work out at the gym later,” I say.
“Are you going to work out or hook up? Who are you hooking up with?,” he asks.
I start getting peeved. “Why do you need to know?,” I text back. “I don’t ask you who you hook up with.”
He backs down. “I’m not trying to find out that.”
I text back to him that sex is getting boring and I want to take a break. He gets the message.
“Have a good workout,” he says.
“Thanx,” I text back.
Then another text comes. From a Trinidadian dude from New York I hooked up with last more than a year ago. He has a tight body, chocolate skin, dreads, a dazzling smile, a lyrical voice that makes you think of blue water beaches, white sands, and a strong mojito. Its been so long I don’t recognize his number so I call to find out who the fuck it is.
He is in town for the weekend to celebrate July 4th with his friends. The last time I saw him he sucked me off in his buddy’s living room while his buddy and his lover slept upstairs. It was hot because we could have been caught at any moment.
I don’t tell him I am on a sabatical from sex. I make up another excuse.
“It’s a holiday weekend and I’m doing family shit. If I can get away I’ll let you know,” I say. “There are also a lot of clubs here and all the beautiful people are hanging out this weekend. You should go have fun.”
“Okay man,” the Trinidadian answers. “Just let me know.”
He tries to sound nice and conversational but I know he is disappointed. Who cares. I have no intention of calling him and going through the tiresome rigamarole of finding us a place to hookup for a half hour of quick passion. I’m not the only dick in this metropolis. If he is worth a shit he will find some more good dick before the holiday weekend is over.