Making Up for Lost Time

September 07

The Traveller's brief stay in the city was over. He headed back to his home town, and we kept in contact via IMs and text messages. We chatted most days, and I looked forward to each message he sent.

One thing was lacking though: Sex. I had missed out on nine months of bedroom gymnastics due to my self-imposed celibacy. Sleeping with The Traveller had reawakened my sexual appetite, and boy, was I hungry.

The Internet was once again my cruising ground of choice, I chatted online with several men and one of the guys that contacted me was the Mirror Man. My history with the Mirror Man is kinda complicated, and goes back a few years.

I first met the Mirror Man in 2004. I was out with a group of friends from work. We started out in one of the bars in the Gay Quarter and later headed to one of the gay nightclubs. Our group had fragmented into several pieces, and I was hanging out with one of my mates. Actually I had a secret crush on this guy, and was enjoying spending time with him.

Secret Crush introduced me to a friend of his, the Mirror Man, who he waves over to join us. I didn't think much of the Mirror Man when I first met him, though that was probably due to the fact I only had eyes for Secret Crush at the time. The three of us chatted for a while, but the Mirror Man didn't leave much of an impression, and soon I was with my other mates, drinking and dancing the night away.

Skip forward to 2006. I'm online on a hook up site, and I get contacted by a guy. We send messages back and forth, and over the course of our conversation I learn that I'm chatting to the Mirror Man. We exchange numbers and try to arrange a meet. In fact I remember once arranging a meet with the Mirror Man so that it would take place a few hours after one of my regular threesome hookups with Guy #1 and O.

The threesome took place, however the 1-on-1 with the Mirror Man did not. He texted me to call it off, complaining of a sore back. I sent a text back offering a massage, but he declined, so I made my way home. Later that night he texts back asking if the offer of a massage was still available. It was late, I was tired and had no intention of heading back into the city, so I said no. We tried to arrange a hook up a few times, but it never happened and we lost contact.

Back to 2007. The Mirror Man contacted me again, but is using a new profile name. I realise its him when he gives me his number. It comes up under his old profile name when I enter it into my phone. We arrange to meet on a day when he's working from home.

The day of the hookup arrives, and I get a text from him in the morning asking if I'm still free to meet. I reply yes, and tell him to expect me in an hour. I freshen up and am out of the door, heading towards the city centre.

When he gives me his address, I know it straight away. I travel down that road each day on my way to work. I interpret the address he gave as the large apartment complex situated on that road, and that's where I wait for him. However I'm mistaken. It turns out he lives opposite the apartment complex, in a former factory that had been converted into apartments. From the outside it still looked like a factory, so I had traveled past it each day without realising it was a place of habitation.

Luckily for me the Mirror Man spots me from across the road, and texts me to tell me where he is. I cross over and he opens the door to his building. I follow him through a maze of corridors to his apartment, and I feel that familiar throb in my groin as my cock swells in anticipation of the sex that's to come.

Sex with the Mirror Man would always follow a similar route. We would enter his place, I would remove my jacket, placing it on a chair. We would kiss, feeling each other up through our clothes as our tongues pushed into each others mouths. We would break from kissing and I'd strip out of my clothes, down to my underwear, my clothes placed on the chair with my jacket. We'd kiss again and he'd delight in the feel of my hairy body under his hands.

We'd take the short walk to his bedroom, he'd quickly strip out of his clothes and we'd make out on the bed. Soon we'd be naked and engaging in a little oral play, our underwear tossed to the other side of the room. We'd enjoy spending time sucking each others cocks. I'd reposition myself so I could squat over his face and let him rim my hole. The feeling of his tongue was amazing, and he would try to work that wicked little tongue as far up my chute as he could manage. Absolute bliss!

He would ask me to fuck him, getting up to reach for lube and condoms. He'd wrap me up, lube up his hole and slide down my cock, slowly bouncing up and down till he became used to it inside him. Then he'd get more adventurous. We'd find ourselves fucking on the floor, doggie style, in front of a large mirror (hence his name). He liked to watch as I pumped into him, and I must admit I enjoyed watching myself fuck him.

Eventually we would end up back up on the bed, him lying in his stomach, his cock pressed into the mattress with me on top of him. I'd wrap my hands under his arms and grasp his shoulders, giving me enough leverage as I pumped him hard. I'd cum, sometimes in the condom up his ass, or over him if he wanted it, and he'd cum straight after. We'd shower, dress and I'd head out of the door.

We fucked around once every few weeks in September, October, November and December that year, took a break over Christmas, and then had a few more hookups in January the following year. We lost contact again, until he texted me out of the blue one day in July 09 and we hooked up a final time, which I wrote about here.

A Change In The Relationship

During our 3 years together, there were periods where Mr Silver and I spent months apart. Within three months of meeting him, he went away to Australia for nine weeks. We kept in touch via text messages, and resumed where we left off when he returned.

As he was older, it is easy to think Mr Silver played the part of my Sugar Daddy, and yes there were gifts. But if you think the gift giving was all one way you'd be wrong. I gave as good as I got. Strangely whenever I presented him with a gift, it put me in mind of all those time I would show my schoolwork to the headmaster.

At my school, when you did outstanding work it would be appraised by the headmaster, who would then award you with a merit mark. That's what it reminded me of, the same mixed feeling of pride, nervousness and anticipation as I waited for my gift to be assessed. Standing there, gift in hand, I felt like a child again. I think that was one of the first times I felt there was an imbalance in our relationship.

Over time, the nature of our relationship changed. I felt that I was no longer an equal partner in our little sexual adventure, and that I was there merely to service him. He always came when we had sex, and the sex we had was more geared to him getting off. Instead of being his equal, I felt like a trophy, something he could show off to his friends to prove he was still virile.

One major turning point came when wanted to fuck me. I was open to trying everything, so we did try, on several occasions. He would press his sheathed cock head against the entrance of my lubed virgin hole, but it would clamp shut. Even sniffing poppers had no effect, the slight dizzy feeling I got when I took a hit would disappear as soon as he attempted to enter me.

I had trouble getting a lubed finger up into my ass, so an erect cock had no chance. He was always too impatient to spend time fingering me, opening me up to receive his cock. At times he would press very hard against the small of my back when trying to enter me, which caused me as much discomfort as him trying to push himself into me. He just wanted to get in there, and was frustrated when it didn't happen. Once, after attempting to enter me he gave up, angrily saying he'd wasted another condom trying to fuck me. We broke up for quite a while after that.

Looking back, the use of poppers may have had something to do with it. I noticed that when he sniffed them he became another person, his sexual gratification became top priority. He wasn't the man I had trusted to explore my sexuality with when poppers were involved. I was just a hole to be used, and it made me feel cheap.

We did get back together again, after quite a lot of talking and with promises that he would try to take my feelings into account. He did change for a while, but got it into his head that I should move in with him. I didn't want to, I liked things the way they were and didn't feel I was ready to take that step.

In the back of my mind I knew that if I moved in with him I would loose myself. Moving in with him meant moving away from the city. I would be living in his house, socialising with his circle of friends. He would dictate what we did, where we went, and how my time would be spent. I did not want this. I valued my independence. I loved my job and my friends, and was sure I would have to give them up if I moved in with him. I did not want to be a kept man. We fought about this, and ended up breaking up again.

Months passed and in the meantime I changed jobs. It was at my new job that I fell head over heels in love with someone I worked with. This is a story I will return too, after I have concluded recounting my relationship with Mr Silver.

My new job meant I dealt with the public on a day to day basis. One day, Mr Silver walked into where I worked, and spent time, watching me from a distance. I worked in a public place so I couldn't exactly say anything. Later that day he sent me a text, saying he was surprised when he saw me, and how sexy I looked in my suit. He wanted to meet up again, but I wasn't sure. We ended up meeting at his house, and I ended up in his bed. On the ride home I told him about the guy I was in love with, and he said he was happy for me.

Mr Silver would come into my workplace on occasion, to watch me from afar. However, the next time we crossed paths at work, it didn't go as he expected. Instead of greeting him with a warm smile, my expression was less than friendly. Someone very close to me had passed away and I was caught in a tide of misery. I couldn't afford to take time off and had no choice but to work, but everyone around me could see my heart wasn't in it.

When Mr Silver walked passed me, interacting with him was the last thing I needed. I could not deal with him top of everything else, and I guess the look I gave him warned him away from talking to me. That was the last time I saw him in over a year.