Making Time

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I saw him first at an opening at the Regional Gallery. He was laughing with someone.

Nice I thought, running an eye up and down him. Black hair, light tan, and I knew he had blue eyes. Nice definitely. It was a man he was laughing with, and then he leant forward and took the guys arm. He was standing close, a bit too close, a bit too looking in his face. A bit not straight. I looked more closely at him as he pulled away. A woman joined them, stood close to him, talked to him and led him away. He was with her as he left, the other man was forgotten after he said goodbye.

But he’d stood a bit too close, smiled and moved his hips a certain way. Hitched them in an arse easing way. He’d had a taste for the other guy. I knew he had.

I wondered if he could have a taste for me. I certainly had one for him.

My friend found out for me that his name was Nigel and that he worked as an investment advisor. I had a bit of money to invest. And I certainly had time to invest in him.

I made mine his last appointment before lunch. I arrived very late. Too late.

“Sorry,” I said, “traffic. Hope it hasn’t inconvenienced you.”

“No. No.” he said politely, confidently, “Why don’t you come through.”

“Look, Its my fault. Isn’t it soon your lunch time?”

“No problem, I often don’t get to go out. Come..

“No. It’s my fault, so I’ll shout OK, how about we go to the tavern. You can give me what advice you can there. If I need to know more I can make another appointment.”

I moved off, encouraging him to follow. He gave in and came with me, “Thanks,” he said, giving me a shy smile.

A dropped eye, gorgeous, god I wanted to fuck him smile.

We ordered steak, salad. I got big fat olives from a side dish and put them on my plate. I wanted something to roll in my mouth when I looked at him. Something salty to taste, while I lusted after him across the table.

“So what are your financial goals David?” he asked seriously, fixing me in his kind considerate, professional blue eyes.

“Oh, independence of course. Knowing I can retire early and live comfortably. Can you help me with that?” I asked him.

“That’s it?” he prodded, “there’s nothing you want to plan for in the near future? Children’s education, new home.”

“No I don’t have children,” I said, “I could plan to have great sex, long holidays,” I joked. “Find the man of my dreams,” I said brazenly, looking at him, pausing, letting what I’d said sink in Büyükesat Escort for a moment. “But financially no. Long term goals only, I’m a long term kinda guy.” I smiled at him, popped a big fat green olive in my mouth and rolled it about.

He looked at my mouth for a moment fascinated. I wanted my mouth on his balls. He, I hoped, was thinking about it too. I finished with the pit and neatly removed it and put it on my plate.

“Oh,” he said, suddenly coming back to earth. He looked blank. Too much input had overloaded him temporarily. “Oh.”

“And you,” I said quietly, “What about you? We’ve got time, would you like to see the apartment I’ve got in the Towers. Its empty now. Nice fully furnished investment, very comfortable, just a minute away from here.”

I fixed my eyes to his, held them. He moved slightly, a snake caught by my hypnotizing gaze. I moved my foot under the table, made gentle contact with his calf, ran my shoe up it a bit. I felt his leg quiver.

I stood up, “Come on,” I said quietly, smiling, holding his eyes still. Liking the nervous uncertain way he was looking.

I wanted him to, he wanted to. I knew he did, he’d just needed a bit of encouragement.

“Umm. I suppose I have a bit of spare time, before I have to be back..” he said, smiling. Still a bit cautious. A client. Perhaps he wondered if he should do it with clients. I wondered if he often did. Yes, I thought.

It was a short walk there, then up in the lift. I opened the door and closed it; he leant back against it breathing hard. He moved his hands to my chest, rested them on it, moved his face to mine. I moved into him glad he’d started. We kissed. Me pushing my tongue into his hot mouth. He let me have his mouth.

He wove his hands over my shoulders, my chest, down to my hips, around to my arse. He gripped my arse and pulled it to him, pulling my hips in, my stiffening cock coming up against his hardening one. I dropped my hands to undo him, opening out his pants. I pushed them down, his lovely cock growing up out of them, springing free. Him moaning now. Our mouths working hard against each other’s.

“I have to get back,” he mumbled into my lips, “One o’clock appointment.”

I went down on him, sucked him. A nice cock, thin, not too long. A nice mouthful. Easy to take in. It slid down to the back of my throat. I sucked and tongued it still as I pulled back, letting it run free through Elvankent Escort my soft, pressed hard about it lips.

He moaned. His legs gave softly beneath him. He pawed my head, pushed my head onto him as I let his cock slide back into my mouth. I was working my tongue about it, loving it, the feel, taste, hardness of it. He moaned and moved his hips and I let him, as I worked his cock in and out of me. I felt him tense and quake and buried my face in his soft pubic hair feeling his balls tighten against my chin. Felt his cock twitch inside my mouth, my throat, I nearly choked on him. I pulled back. Felt his cum shoot into my mouth. I swallowed as he came again, heaving his hips to my face, pawing my hair, moaning again. When he was empty I gave his cock up, freed myself to stand and attack his mouth again. He attacked me back and we wrestled a moment, locked together, mouth to mouth.

“When can I see you again?” I asked, as he tidied himself up.

He was smiling a groggy smile. I wanted to fuck him more than ever. See him smile a fucked lovers smile. See his smile when I fucked him, see him arch back with my cock buried inside him.

“Umm,” he gave a nervous laugh. “I’m married. Its hard to get away.”

“We can meet here anytime,” I said calmly, patiently.

“Ok, tomorrow. Four thirty,” he said tentatively, “I don’t have any late appointments.”

“Fine,” I said, “Here at four thirty.” I kissed him again, ran my hand down his back to his arse as he went out of the door.

I closed the door, leant back against it, pulled my own cock free and stroked it, thinking of his cock, his arse, my cock entering, pushing into, plowing deep in him. My breathing stopped, held, I came hard into my hand, coming to him, cum for him.

He was on time, neat in his suit and tie. We kissed as soon as he was inside, began pulling at each other’s clothes wanting to get naked, to go skin to skin. To have our cocks free of their restraint, to get to each other.

He was naked first. I bit his nipples. He moaned and gasped. I sucked them, then moved to his neck, his chin, then up to his mouth again. I shucked my pants, my shoes, he had got my shirt off. Now I was naked too. Kissing him. Embracing him. Our thighs, hips, arms touched, moved together, ground and sweated against each other. I dropped my hand and stroked his cock, his already firm, hard, lovely cock.

He moved his hand Beşevler Escort to my arse, I moved mine to his and gained a small, one fingered entry, while he was still tentative. He gasped, knowing he was taken, leant in to me. I moved him to the sofa. I lay him back on it, loving the look of his neat cock and balls set, pointing to his navel. I lifted his legs, moving his arse into my sight. He held his thighs for me. I knelt before his arse and worshipped his hole. Worshipped it with my gently lapping tongue, with my forceful hard tongue pushing into it. Worshipped it with my saliva coated finger entering him, feeling the inside of his flesh, stroking him there, feeling him moan and give to me. Two fingers entered him to worship his arse, to prepare it for my devotion.

He moaned as I stretched and moistened him, lubricated him, readied him for my cock to worship.

“Fuck me, please,” he was moaning. “Ohh, I want your cock inside me, god please fuck me,” he was gently pleading as he rolled his head, gazing at me from half closed eyes. I took my hard cock and rolled the end about his soft wet hole, eased myself into him. He arched and gasped as I did, as I passed that ring, that rim, that barrier of tight muscle hiding his depths from the world.

I pushed in further, leaning into him, my cock picking up the slickness I’d left in him, riding it deeper. He moaned and widened his thighs, his feet at my shoulders, opening himself for me.

His black haired pale legs entwined with my olive skinned arms as I continued to move in further. His hand was at his right nipple as I made my first deep stroke inside his bowel. He arched and moved his hips to me. A fucking move onto me. I responded with fucking strokes. My hips hitting his cheeks. We made flesh slappy sounds, grunts and pants, we began to sweat in the summer heat as I fucked him, taking my time. I had the time for him. He’d made the time for me.

Moaning, “Oh shit, Oh fuck,” he gasped. His hand working his own cock eagerly, hangingly on the edge. I watched, saw his face as he came, his cum leaving his body, his body giving it up, everything. I watched stroking inside him, on the edge. My hips meeting his arse softly now. He shot off up his belly, cum in his navel. He came again arching back, his cock throwing his seed across himself, and again weakly, till he was drained.

He was spent. I leant back, threw my head back. I beat my hips against his arse, slapping balls then tight squeezing feel running through. I buried inside him, came there, throbbing inside his arse, arching myself again, eyes closed.

We fell apart, both spent for now. I helped him stand and we wandered to the bathroom. We showered together slowly, taking time. Touching time, hands caressing each other’s body time.

I had a taste for him. He’d got a taste for me.

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