Tuesday, 26 May 2009

Why Cell Phones Should Come With A Breathalyzer Function.

My friends and I were out celebrating one night, and the local gay bar we were in had a buy one get one free promotion on all drinks. We all got very drunk that night, and as I lay in bed at 3 in the morning I thought it would be a good idea to send Mr Silver a text message. Sending an ex a text message when you're drunk is a bad idea.

A very bad idea. I still had his number in my phone and sent him a message saying I hoped he was okay, that I had often thought about him and that I missed him. The message must have woke him up, because he sent one back immediately, saying it was good to hear from me again. He wanted to meet up.

I sent the text when I was drunk, so I had an excuse. When we met a week later, I was stone cold sober. I had planned for us to just talk. We met after work, and like old times he picked me up and drove me to his place.

We sat on his couch and talked. He told me that he was surprised to hear from me again. His company had sent him to India for six months, and he had only recently got back. He said that he had wondered into my workplace in the hopes of seeing me, but I had disappeared. I told him I was in the same place but had moved departments Of course talk went to the last time we saw each other, and how hurt he was that I had blanked him. I apologised and tried to explain the circumstances, that I had lost someone close to me and it had screwed up my head, but he dismissed my reasons and was more concerned with his own feelings. I realised that he hadn't changed, that my loss was a secondary concern to his bruised ego.

He wanted sex, it was the reason he invited me over, and I don't no how but ended up in his bed. He wanted me to fuck him, and I did. He lay on his back as I slid my sheathed cock into his ass and slowly pumped away. I think he wanted it to be like before, when I used to fuck him senseless whilst wearing my leather jacket, but that was in the past. I fucked him half-heartedly, as if it was something on my list of chores for that night. After about 10 minutes I pulled out, and removed the condom with a snap, which signalled the end of that particular activity.

After having sex he showed me pictures of his time away, describing the details of each picture taken. He then showed me one of him in bed with one arm around a younger guy. There he was with a younger version of me, telling me how nice this guy was. In showing me the picture it was like he wanted me to know that he was still desirable to young men, he could get anyone he wanted and I was nothing special. If that move was supposed to make me jealous, it didn't work. Instead I realised all his actions came from a place of insecurity. His fears of loosing his virility and growing old alone.

The only weapon I had at my disposal was sex, and I used it. We were on his bed, still naked, and I decided to pleasure him with my oral talents, showing him how much I had learned. What he didn't know was that I had two other lovers in the time we were apart, but I kept that quiet.

I sucked on his cock and licked his balls, running my tongue over them then pushing his legs further apart and probing deeper, to his perineum, then to his hole. I looked directly into his eyes as my tongue swiped across his puckered sphincter. His eyes widened in surprise and his breath quickened. This was the first time I ever rimmed him. In that moment I knew I had him. He expected more, expected my tongue to probe deeper, to continue rimming him. Or for me to go back to licking his balls and sucking on his cock.

But I didn't. I just stopped what I was doing. That would be the last moment of pleasure he would ever receive from me. I sat up and reached out with my hand to pick up my watch from where I left it on his nightstand. I put it on and got off the bed, saying it was late and I had to get home. I went into the bathroom and washed my cock and balls in the sink and rinsed my mouth out with mouthwash before returning to the bedroom to dress quickly.

He was too stunned to say anything, instead dressing and then dropping me back into the city. He tried making conversation on the ride home, trying to pin down another time for us to meet, but my answers were vague and noncommittal. He thought he had me back, but I knew it would be the last time I would see him. We were done.

I didn't have to worry about him popping into my workplace to see me whenever he wanted as I had taken a job with another company. Although, part of me (a very wicked part) wonders how many times he visited my former workplace in the hopes of seeing me.

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