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By *rgeo OP Man
1 week ago
WOLVERHAMPTON |
His flat was one of six penthouse apartments on the top floor, to all appearances quite immaculate, with a large open plan kitchen/living room, two bedrooms and a small shower room. I took it all in very quickly. He closed the door to the smaller bedroom, saying it was a mess, but it wasn't really, from what I saw from the hallway.
He led me into the bedroom and immediately started kissing and undressing me, nibbling my neck as he unbuttoned my shirt. The windows were the floor-to-ceiling type with a view over some rooftops below and on to another building across the way, offices probably. I wondered if anyone there could see us kissing because he made no attempt to draw the blinds and we were standing in the full light of the late afternoon sun.
"How old are you?" he asked.
"How old do you think?"
"About a hundred," he said, straight-faced.
"Near enough." I laughed. "And you? I reckon you could be twenty?"
"Twenty!? You'd sleep with someone that young!?" He seemed amazed at the thought.
"Obviously I would. I'm here, aren't I?" I laughed again, tickled by his logic or lack of it.
"Actually, I'm twenty-five," he said seriously. "And I need to know something." He smiled. His face lit up, the first real smile of our meeting. "Do you know how hot you are?"
I smiled back, taking him only half seriously, but pleased at the compliment. I knew it would be tacky to compliment him back, but didn't know what else to say.
"I think you are very beautiful," I said. He leant in and kissed me hard, his teeth touching mine.
"You want to fuck me, don't you?" he whispered.
"Probably!" I said. "Would you like that?" I drew him closer to me and held his face between my hands.
We stopped talking for a while after that. He removed the covers from the bed and we lay next to each other. By now I was completely naked. He was wearing only a pair of bright yellow briefs. They contrasted nicely with his dark smooth skin. Since we'd met I could smell an expensive type of after-shave but now I became aware of other odours: sweat from his arms, the oils in his hair, the faint taste of spices from an earlier meal. We kissed and cuddled and fondled each other, me nibbling his flesh and stroking his nipples, him biting playfully at my nipples and my lips.
Suddenly I remembered what he'd said earlier about the playroom. Is that it in the smaller bedroom? I wondered. I sat up and looked at him.
"So how do you like to play then?" I asked. "You know, in your playroom."
"This is the playroom," he said. "I'll show you." He opened the bottom drawer of the bedside cabinet nearest the window. "Look!" He was holding a pair of handcuffs. They were leather-padded but looked very much like the real thing as far as being able to keep someone restrained. |
