Date: Thu, 13 Dec 2012 08:36:46 -0800 (PST) From: Anthony Palazzo <apalazzo198@yahoo.com> Subject: vintage thrills; 20. "Deep Set Eyes, Great Buns" Deep Set Eyes, Great Buns "Hello." "Er, oh hi. I, er, saw your ad, and I wondered if we could get together some time." "Oh, yeah, sure. Which ad?" "In the Voice. Last week. It said that you do mas..." Interrupting, "Right, right, right. Yeah, so when do you want to come over?" "Like, this afternoon would be good for me. How much is it?" "Sixty." "O.K. Where are you?" "I'm midtown. Forty third street. Just west of Eighth Avenue." He supplied an address. A pause. "It's a good building. There's a doorman." "Ahh, yeah. I guess I need your name? I'm Joe." "Uh huh. Well mine is Karl. But just tell the doorman 3G, and he'll ring up. What time is good for you?" "About 2 okay?" "Yeah, sure Joe. See you then." "Right. Bye." Waiting. Anticipating. Worrying. ID out of wallet. Minimum of cash in wallet. A $20 bill in shoe. Trying to concentrate on other things. Working. A little. Finally, it's 1:15. "I'm out for the afternoon, Maureen. You remember I'm going to get together with some potential customers today?" "Um, noooo. Will you be back?" "Nah, doubt it. Probably not. See you in the morning. I'll be midtown. I'm not sure how you could reach me. Do you want me to call in?" "No. Things'll be fine. See you in the morning." Subway ride. There a little early. I clear my throat, and ask the doorman to ring 3G. In a minute or so I'm in the elevator, and then smiling at a handsome young guy in shorts and a T shirt. Blond hair, cut very short. High cheekbones. Light coloring, light eyes. Tall, slim, but with a well developed chest. Maybe 23 or 24 years old. Smiling, open, friendly face. A little sleepy looking. Some reddish lines (pillow creases?) on one cheek. We walk through a large, nicely furnished living room, chatting. I look around. Things a little messy, but it's clear this kid has some money and has been settled here for a while. Karl offers juice or soda. I thank him but refuse. Karl gestures to the half empty glasses, filled ashtrays, pillows tossed around, and explains, with a little laugh, that there had been a party the previous night. I smile, and we move into the adjacent bedroom. There's weight lifting equipment and a bench near the door. A big bed, and not much else. Karl admits he was sleeping both when I phoned, and again just now when the doorbell rang. Result of the late party. He jumps up on the bed and begins to pull down a huge shade on the rear wall. I complement the apartment, and we agree that you can get a lot more for your money midtown on the west side. Karl is not defensive about the shitty neighborhood. Seems proud of the good rental rate he's paying for this nice big place. He mentions the doorman again, which he seems quite pleased about. As he chats, he strips off his T shirt and shorts, quickly, unselfconsciously. He looks great. I start to slowly undress. Tie tack first. Then tie. A lot more complicated for me than it was for Karl. As I undress, and neatly fold items and place them on the weight training bench, I'm watching Karl, who has ambled, nude, out of the bedroom and into the facing bathroom. Casually, he walks to the toilet, and stands in front of it, preparing to pee. I stare, fairly amazed, with admiration and growing lust. Perfect pair of buns. Just beautiful. Not overdeveloped, and certainly not skimpy. Medium sized, with a natural curvature of the cheeks. Karl shakes off the last few urine drops and returns to the bedroom. He watches me finish undressing, and provides an encouraging smile. The pace of the conversation decreases, and the amount diminishes, as I begin to slowly stroke Karl's arm. "You have a great body. It's easy to see that you enjoy using those weights." "No. Actually I just got them. I haven't started working out yet. I'm working up to it." Little laugh. "Really? Your chest is so well developed. I thought for sure you had been lifting for a while." "Nah. That's just my natural build, I guess." I've moved from Karl's arm to his thighs, stomach, and am now making little circles around one nipple with my finger. Karl smiles. He begins to caress my shoulder and neck. Soon we're stretched out on our sides, facing each other. I touch Karl's cock, which starts to grow. It's not very big for a hustler. About the same size as mine. But cut and with lighter skin. The pubic hair is light brown, straight and sparse. Karl begins to massage my dick and balls. I roll on top of Karl and kiss him. Karl returns the kiss, and it's followed by twenty or thirty more. Quick little kisses, some straight on, some facing one way or the other, some barely touching, some harder. Then my tongue tries to invade the delicious cave of Karl's mouth. No problem. Karl immediately parts his lips and meets tongue with tongue. I'm loving this. My earlier nervousness has dissipated and I'm now feeling good. I begin to cover Karl's body with kisses, tonguing each interesting crevice. Karl's very deep brooding eyes are very attractive to me. I tongue each eyelid, bathing the socket with saliva. If Karl is surprised, he gives no evidence of it. He seems content to have me do whatever pleases me, and matches much of my loving caresses with like gestures, although perhaps not with quite as much enthusiasm. A very nice, compliant, even generous, hustler. He has the courtesy and grace to treat this as more than a business relationship. Laid back. Enjoying himself. Or doing a very good job of pretending to. I'm on Karl's lovely cock. It's truly pretty. Just the right size. Nicely shaped. Great color and texture. Smells good too-- (talcum?). I lick the sides. I play with the head using the tip of my tongue. I massage the balls with one hand, while swallowing half of the dick. Karl makes an appreciative sound. After a little while, Karl gently lifts me off him, and lays me back on the pillow. He snakes down the bed and begins to suck me. It feels wonderful. I close my eyes and lose myself in the moment. As he sucks, he massages both of my thighs with his hands. It's a nice and unexpected gesture. Karl makes a lot of noise as he sucks. Loud slurping and suction sounds. I think that Karl is not behaving like a professional who does this all the time. (Could he be new at this? Maybe he just needed some extra money and decided to try it. Or maybe he's just very good at seeming clumsy and innocent, and has been actually hustling since he was 18. Well, if so, it's easy to see why he would be successful.) I begin to move around slowly, aiming to get into a 69 position, without discouraging Karl from continuing the most pleasant ministrations. I'm there now. Make contact. Begin to suck. Feel Karl's tongue circle my glans. I feel the perfect asscheeks as I suck. I run my finger between the cheeks and behind the scrotum. Tickle the balls. Karl is sucking harder and more skillfully now. Paradise. Suddenly Karl stops, moves away and we speak for the first time in fifteen minutes. "Sorry, I don't like that." "What?" I ask, puzzled. "I don't like to 69. I just don't like to do it. I'll suck you and then you can suck me, okay?" "Oh," I reply, a bit taken aback and disappointed. "Sure, okay." (And I thought it was perfection!) And so it goes. We suck some more. We touch, and as the hour wears on, I begin to feel that familiar feeling. I'm going to come. Too soon. Try to hold off. But Karl, now showing more professionalism and less awkward innocence, pushes me closer and closer, until I burst. The release is relieving and exhausting. As I recover, I look over at Karl's hard prick, disappointed not to have seen it shoot. I reach over and play with it. Karl, getting the idea, tries to cooperate. He takes over, and jerks his dick rapidly for 3 or 4 minutes. "Can't come," he declares. "Well, maybe you came too much already," I say, trying to hide my disappointment. "Not today," swears Karl. "I haven't come today. Yesterday, yeah. But I should be able to come again by now." His brow is furrowed with real or pretended puzzlement. "It's OK," I allow. "Don't worry about it." The phone rings. I'm startled. Karl leans over and answers it. Talks for a few minutes. Apologizing to someone. Somebody he was supposed to meet. Looks at his watch. Makes a date for 20 minutes from now. He hangs up. Karl and I are both wiping ourselves with a towel. The same towel. Karl doesn't offer a shower or a separate towel. Oh, well. He explains that the caller is a jogging buddy. They were supposed to go running together and Karl forgot and missed the appointment. "Believe it or not, he's a minister," Karl laughs. I do find that surprising, but not very.