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It was a mid-February evening and a major snowstorm was hitting the Montreal area. It is the sort of evening one should wisely remain at home to cuddle in front of a fire with someone special. It certainly was not a night to go into town.
I still do not know what exactly compelled me to want to leave the comfort of my apartment. Maybe it was the fact that I was very lonely and felt strongly that I had to do something about it. In any event, I shaved, showered, douched and got dressed. I decided to wear blue jeans and a fuzzy white angora turtleneck sweater. Wearing fur or angora always makes me feel sexy and I privately enjoy the sensuousness of its caress on my skin and it never fails to arouse my very sensitive nipples. Then I laced my boots, zipped up my Kanuk winter parka and put on my fur lined aviator hat to keep my cropped head warm. I headed out.
The snow had started to fall more heavily and the wind was picking up. Stopping in my tracks, I began to reconsider my decision to go out. After a short pause, I kicked myself for wanting to wimp out again. I took a deep breath feeling the cold air fill my lungs and tightly pulled the fur trimmed hood of my parka on my head to shield my face from the blowing snow. Eventually, I found a taxi willing to drive me to the “Village”.
Being a week night and the winter storm forecast, the streets were deserted and the bar I stopped in was fairly quiet. It was my first time in that establishment and I was a bit nervous as it catered exclusively to an older homosexual clientèle. Again, I had to remind myself why I was there. I was 50 years old and the New Year caused me to reflect on my desperate need to explore my sensibilities and maybe, just maybe, meet that special someone, my man. Until recently, I had lived with a much younger woman while engaging in a monogamous affair with an older male lover. After many years, he had decided to end it a few years previously. Depressed and stifled, I later found a way to cowardly drive the woman away from me.
As time passed, I was feeling more wanting. I had gradually come to terms with my sexuality, accepting that I preferred a man’s sexual companionship. I needed a confidant, a sensual and passionate lover. A man to make me feel desired, cause me to drop my inhibitions and allow my sexuality to freely blossom. That night, without much hope, I left the comfort and security of my apartment wishing that this person would find me.
Sitting tensely in a corner booth leafing a free local gay publication, I attracted some curious glances from a few patrons but, wrapped up in my shyness, I did not acknowledge anyone’s interest. After almost an hour, I was already finishing my third inferior scotch and was feeling a bit light headed. Congratulating myself for my effort, I decided to retreat to the safety of my home. I started to slide out of my booth, when there, standing in my path, was a tall and handsome man that I had failed to notice. Our eyes met, held their gaze, while he smiled warmly… I froze.
“Hello” he said, his voice melodic and deep. Like a fool, I looked around as if to make sure he was talking to me.
“Yes, I’m talking to you,” he said. “I hope you’re not planning on leaving just yet.”
My stomach knotted up and I mumbled something about having to go before the snow would make it impossible to find a taxi.
“Nonsense.” he said sitting down and blocking my path. “I’m sure it’ll still be fine by the time we finish getting acquainted over a drink.”
I looked at him a bit more closely. He was wearing a stylish business suit which flattered his masculine built. He was clean shaven and wore his graying hair short. His eyes were very dark and his look was very intense. But it was his lips that captivated me, they were full somewhat pouting with distinctive corners that curved slightly upward. They were the most perfect and sexy lips that I had ever seen on a man.
I was immediately smittened by him for some reason. I felt flummoxed in his presence and realized then that he was speaking to me again.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”, I asked.
“I said that looking at you sitting alone here intrigued me. I felt a connection, an urge if you like, to join you.” Then, as an afterthought, he added: “If you allow me of course.”
I was a bit unnerved by his forwardness and began to refuse “Maybe some other time when…”
“Please.” he interrupted while putting his hand on my shoulder. “I think that leaving now would be a mistake that would cause you to forever wonder what may have been. You and I both know that you are sitting here hoping for the right man to come along to seduce you. Now that you have dispensed with the pretense of wanting to refuse my offer, we can forego any further debate on the matter as it would only make it more embarrassing for you.” After pausing he added: “I know what you need.”
I was in turmoil. This stranger, this man, had seen right through me. Feigning indifference, I relinquished: “OK, just one drink.”
He güvenilir bahis signaled for the waiter, asked what I was drinking and ordered us each a scotch… doubles.
Turning his attention back to me, he caught me staring at him and smiled. “Do you like what you see?” he said more than asked. Without pausing, he extended his hand out to me. “My name is Christopher but please call me Chris.” he said his grip totally masculine.
“Ah… yeah… I do” I replied feeling myself turning red; I couldn’t believe what I just said.
“You’re very cute when you blush.”
While I tried to compose myself, he added: “By the way, I really love your angora sweater. It’s very sensual. Men aren’t usually audacious enough to wear it and I’m glad that you do as it makes you look terribly sexy, almost feminine and yet not. I sense that there lingers an interesting duality under your very masculine façade. I find that quite endearing.” he said still holding my hand in his. “And you are?…” he asked.
“André,” I said and glanced down at my hand still held in his.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, André.” he said releasing my hand.
Without saying a word, he placed his hand on the inside of my thigh. A moment later he gently began stroking while holding my gaze until I lowered my eyes to stare at my glass of scotch.
After about a minute he ventured: “You must be a bottom.”
His statement really startled me, and I turned to look at him but before I could think of a reply he said, “It’s not my intention to be deprecating, in fact I’m quite pleased. The reason I know that you’re a bottom is that since I began caressing your thigh, you’ve made no attempt to stop me.”
He was right; I had made no effort to stop him. He went on to say that I should stop, and correct him when what he said was incorrect. He continued… “I bet that you’re longing to sexually submit to a man.”
I sat there, speechless, as he got more assertive and asked me if I wanted to touch his cock. Before I could answer, he took my hand and placed it directly on his manhood, and just like his caress of my thigh; I said nothing.
Instinctively, I began stroking the length of his cock feeling it grow with every stroke. Soon he had a full raging hard on, as I continued to coddle his manhood through his dress pants.
His penis felt very large and I began to picture it in my mouth and fucking my ass. I was mesmerized while he just stayed there smiling and looking like he was reading my mind, because, before long he said:
“You obviously like to fondle my cock, because your face is flushed and you’re tenting your jeans. Submissive bottoms just love to feel their man’s cock, don’t they? You’re caressing it so gently and lovingly that I bet your gay fantasies are all about a man romantically, and passionately making sweet, tender love to you. Do you also yearn to be kissed like a woman gets kissed by a man? All romantic and passionate bottoms want to be kissed by their man.”
With his right hand still feeling my thigh, he brought his left hand to the nape of my neck and gently pulled me to him.
Our mouths met and electricity seemed to surge through me, through us. I let out a soft sigh and found Chris slipping his tongue between my lips. As he felt me yielding, he pulled me closer to him. He was a man that knew what he wanted and went for it. He wanted to conquer me and now he knew that I would surrender myself to him.
Chris pulled back leaving me wanting. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and had me nestle up against him. After the waiter brought our drink order, we sat like that enjoying the strong liquor until he gently rested his hand over my breast. I held my breath. “Look into my eyes and bare your soul to me”, he softly said.
I lifted my gaze and he smiled knowingly. Then I felt Chris slide his fingers gently over the soft wool of my angora sweater until he found the tip of my nipple and gently rubbed it. The affect was immediate, a moan escaped from my lips as a jolt of sexual tension shot through my body making me twitch and snuggle ever more closely against him.
“I believe that I’ve found an on-button,” he said, smiling triumphantly at my reaction.
“Uhhhh, mmmmmm,” was all I could get out of my mouth. Chris lowered his head and warm breath drifted on my face, the slight smell of scotch on his breath, but not unpleasant. Very slowly he came in for a kiss. It was soft and delicate, an exploration.
When Chris broke our kiss, he took a last sip from his drink and then brought his lips back to mine. He slid his tongue in my willing mouth and shared with me the last of his scotch. My head was spinning and I felt my body drift in wanton desire to give myself to this sexy man.
“Would you like to come home with me, Angora? Do you mind if I call you Angora?” he asked. I could only nod, I was in total awe.
My body lusted after him and my mind was in turmoil.
“Angora, tell me what you want”, Chris whispered.
“I’d türkçe bahis like to go with you”, I answered softly.
“No, Angora, there’s more to it than that. You must be unreservedly honest with me. You must open your heart and allow yourself to share your deepest feelings and desires. Allow your conscience to unburden itself, let go.” Chris insisted. “I sense that you have in you a passion, a power, a tinder smoldering and yearning for someone to fan into an intense fire. Obviously you already know that only a man can fuel that fire or you wouldn’t be here. If you allow it, I will be that man, Angora.”
Chris caressed my swelled nipples which made me purr.
I looked into Chris’ eyes and bared my soul: “This is what I’m meant for, made to give and take pleasure with a man. I need to relinquish my body, my soul and my heart to a man”.
I paused gravely and added: “Are you really that man, Chris?”
“Angora, I very sincerely believe that you are meant for me.” Chris said reassuringly.
“Yes, I love the sound of that.” I said.
Unable to resist, mind blank, my eyes still lost in Chris’ intense gaze our lips touched and for endless minutes we remained there, tongues dancing.
Chris moved his hand down between my thighs and grasped my manhood as if to let me know that he was taking possession and control of me. Finally we came up for air.
Taking the lead, of course, Chris helped me out of the booth. He grabbed my coat and held it open for me to put it on. While I zipped up and put on my hat, he slipped on his cashmere coat.
With his arm possessively around my waist, Chris led me out of the bar and the eyes of those around us spoke volumes as Chris led us out. I was with him and heading to his house to meet with what I knew to be a new life. I wanted to be with him and nothing else mattered.
The snow was coming down more heavily now and muffled the city. While Chris led the way with his arm around my waist, I pulled up my fur-trimmed hood to shield my face from the wind.
We turned into a parking lot and he pointed to a Porsche Cayenne buried under a foot of snow. He engaged the release of the automatic rear hatch and pulled out a snow brush. After clearing the snow from the vehicle, he threw the brush into the rear and closed the hatch. He then walked up to me and looked intently into my eyes, questioning.
“Take me away, Chris.” I said smiling at him. He pulled me tightly to his body and kissed me passionately. It was exhilarating. Our faces were intimately cocooned in the thick fur of my hood shielding us from the wind as our tongues conveyed our growing passion.
When he released me, my body swooned. I was lost.
He opened the passenger door for me and I climbed in his vehicle.
We pulled out of the parking lot and headed out of the Village in the direction of the bridge which would take us to the south shore. We were quiet in the car while soft blues played on the audio system. This was the first time since coming into contact with Chris that I actually had time to stop and think. Suddenly realizing how far I had allowed myself to go, my old apprehensions re-emerged.
I finally broke the silence: “Where are we going, Chris?”
After giving me a thoughtful glance, he said: “Are you nervous and having second thoughts, Angora? Are your easy and safe boundaries and inhibitions causing you concern?” He paused then said:
“Let me confide in you. Somehow I feel a very special connection with you, a bound if you like. There is an element of lust and physical desire of course but much more. I feel that you and I are meant to explore and delve into our obvious mutual attraction. I was drawn to you and truly feel that we were destined to meet at that bar tonight, during a snow storm nonetheless. Now, if you say that you’re not ready and that you want me to drive you to your home and go our separate ways, I will. But I would do so with much regret.”
Pausing for a moment, Chris added: “In answer to your question, I live on the shore of the river just over the bridge. I sincerely hope that you will like my home and that you find it cozy, if you let me take you there”.
“Would you mind if we had a drink and relaxed once we get there, Chris?”
“I insist on it,” he said as his hand gently kneaded my thigh. “I have a nice selection of scotch and a very private veranda to enjoy the drinks in.”
Even with the blowing snow, the drive to his house was shorter than I had thought, taking us out of the city and into the suburbs. He pulled off of the main road and down a narrow street.
“Where are you taking me, Chris,” I asked nervously.
“To my den of iniquity where I will torture you until you go insane,” he said smiling. “My house is just up ahead Angora, and I promise to be the perfect gentleman you want me to be.”
“Ok…Chris,” I said.
“There is no need to worry. Nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen.” he assured me. “If you’re really güvenilir bahis siteleri uncomfortable Angora, I can still turn around and take you wherever you like.”
“No, please, I want this. I want to be with you!” I said trying not to sound desperate, he smiled his approval.
We pulled into the garage of a large house with a wraparound porch.
“You have a nice home Chris”, I said staring at the house.
“Don’t move, stay right there Babe,” he said and quickly exited the SUV, walking around the front to open my door.
True to his word, he was a complete gentleman, offering his hand to me as I slid out of my seat. Again like at the bar, he walked me up to his front door with his arm firmly around my waist.
“Welcome Angora. I hope you feel right at home.” he said while stepping aside so that I could walk in.
Chris shut the door and slipped past me into the living room as I unlaced and removed my winter boots. Opposite the entry in the living room stood a marble mantle ornamenting a large fireplace in front of which laid an oversize sheep skin rug. It was furnished handsomely and very masculine in suede and leather with designer tables and couches.
I stood still as Chris slipped my coat off, hanging it neatly in the closet while I took in my new surroundings.
He returned to stand before me. Lifting his hand, he touched my shoulder and sensually stroked my soft angora sweater. I felt the heat of his flesh and quivered under his intense gaze. Chris then put his hand behind my neck and gently drew my body to him. I couldn’t resist, mind blank, eyes still lost in his gaze I came closer to him. Our faces were millimeters apart. Chris’ warm breath tickled my chin as he tilted his head. Our lips touched softly, and I sighed and returned the kiss giving him access to my mouth.
For endless minutes we stood there, tongues dancing. Chris moved his other hand down my back, feeling my skin tense under his touch while my arms came around his body in a gentle hold. The nature of the kiss became more passionate as Christopher opened his mouth wider attacking my tongue with his. With his lips tightly closed over my mouth his tongue stayed on the offensive forcing me to swallow his saliva and inhale his spent air – with each intake of breath, I grew dizzier, more and more drawn to his masculinity.
When he finally came up for air, Chris pulled back a little, peering into my face. I felt flushed, breathless and totally overwhelmed. Chris watched me panting with desire.
He drew me back and gave me what I needed, letting me suck his tongue back into my mouth. He started to feel his way up my body as we kissed, touching and caressing my swelled pecs enjoying the contrast of the softness of my sweater against the stiffness of my nipples.
I moaned and sent my tongue on the offensive, feeling out every corner of Chris’ warm and delicious mouth. Chris’s hands roamed sensually over my sweater, enjoying the tremors coursing through my body. He returned to my nipples, gently brushed them to tease my hard nubs. A groan trembled through my mouth and then Chris pushed me back leaving me panting again with a string of saliva on my chin. He smiled slightly letting me know that he was in charge.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked nonchalantly while walking to the fireplace to ignite the gas fire.
“A Speyside scotch would be just perfect.” I said, wiping my chin and staring at him as he moved about his surroundings switching on soft lights and adjusting the volume of the ambient music. He grabbed two glasses from the bar and poured two very generous helpings of Balvelour.
He came back and handed me my drink. Looking intently into my eyes he extended his glass in a toast: “To kinship.”
“And awakenings.” I added returning his gaze as our glasses connected.
After taking a sip from our drinks, he took my hand to lead me on a tour of his home showing me the layout then up the stairs through the loft area and finally the large master suite.
The bedroom was breathtakingly sultry. It was appointed in black and white and shades of gray. The furniture was modern and a deep pile carpet covered most of the area. But what really caught my attention was the king size bed; it was beyond anything I had dared imagine in any of my fantasies. The bedspread was sensual and luxurious silver fox accessorized with fur and alpaca throw pillows of all sizes. I felt myself flush with excitement and took a long sip from my glass while fighting to regain my composure.
Finally, trying to sound very casual, I said: “You have a beautiful home, Chris. I especially love the decor of your bedroom.”
“I had a feeling that you would.” he said smiling conspiratorially.
As my gaze remained fixated on the bed, he deposited his glass on the dresser and approached me from behind. Placing his left hand gently on my left hip and lifting his right arm up under my shoulder he held me intimately with my back to his chest and his groin pressed against my backside. With his chin just over my left shoulder, I tilted my head slightly as his lips brushed against my earlobe making my skin tingle.
“Angora, I want you to tell me exactly what you like about it.” he whispered.
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