ER, GREG
by Billy Jay Dee
"Okay, I'm here. I'm out back on the veranda. I'm wearing a red shirt."
My e-date's name was, er, Greg. Greg said all the right things over the phone about living close and being there soon. He seemed excited too.
Did I mention I wore a short sleeve red shirt? It felt kind of cool on this part of the deck in Seattle in May. (I was just passing through on business.) At the far end in a large sunny spot stood a big guy in work clothes -- blondish, stern and beefy. Did I mention I like `em big?
At 6'1", you've got to be really big to impress me. So, I strolled along the deck, skipped up the step, asked if he minded sharing the sunshine and sat down. From this angle, his highlight faded to brunette, the stern frown to a constant and friendly smile and he lost about 6 inches in height. (I'd had to step up to his part of the deck.)
But he was chatty and fun. We were gabbing away when a man mountain sat down with us. The guy stood 6'7" dressed in layers and wearing a Carhart jacket. He sported a curly back beard and fine head of black wavy hair, with just enough gray in each to give his hair a grizzled look -- odd for a guy in his 30's. (He also possesed a small forest of graying curls on his chest. I checked early on.)
"Cutter" and I introduced ourselves. "Greg," he answered to our names and hands.
He must be my date. He was tan, with broad shoulders and a lot less weight than he'd admitted to in his profile. Maybe he just carried it better than most guys. I enjoyed talking to him for half an hour or so. We discussed his "partnered" lifestyle and my "married" lifestyle. Then his cell rang, then mine, then the obligatory calls we just had to take, introductions to his friends, the arrival of his boyfriend, and finally the Friday night crowd getting thicker and louder.
Forty five minutes later I found myself sitting on the outside of his circle of friends thinking we might have lost that start of a relationship, the rapport we had known before the phones went off.
But when Greg returned to his seat, he centered his attention on me. His friends made me comfortable and included me in the conversation, but I hungered. In retrospect, I wonder what I hungered for specifically. Anyway, Greg knew a Mexican place and we went. The conversation followed easy and frolicking.
"Now what do you want to do?" he asked.
"What do you want to do?" I replied.
"Well, we could go some other place, or to your place or back to the bar?"
"Well, we could go dancing, or back to my place. We've been to that bar."
"Let's go to your place."
Once in the door, I fell into his arms. With a gruff burst of laughter, his massive body engulfed mine. His lips were soft. His breath and mouth were clean tasting, or maybe the salsa at dinner burned out our taste buds. Regardless Greg made me hot. He nuzzled into the small of my neck and began growling. I returned the favor with a snort, then pulled myself up to suck on his earlobe.
He laughed again. I took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom. We kissed again at the foot of the bed. My hands played across his broad back and felt up his hard small ass. We kept at the dry mouth kissing until I realized his stubby fingertips struggled at unbuttoning my shirt. I returned the favor on his belt. It didn't go well and we decided to undress ourselves.
"Gotta use the bathroom," he interrupted. He found me naked and stretched out face up atop the bed spread when he returned. Greg growled with a smile, bent to kiss me lightly and then his lips worked their way quickly to my twitching six-inch rod and engulfed it.
"Oh, yeah," I moaned as I tussled his brunette curls. He twisted my nipples. I managed to roll away from his hand.
"That doesn't do it for you?" he asked.
"Sorry."
"Gee, you aren't gay."
However, what he did with his dry thin lips was doing it for me, but it also reminded me that I needed to use the bathroom.
"My turn," I said.
I found Greg naked and stretched out, face-up atop the bedspread when I returned.
Even naked he didn't look particularly overweight. His chest hair spread south to about mid chest. His cock, though not much larger than mine, was hard! I straddled his thighs and we went back to kissing and growling. The latter a recent trick just taught to him, he informed me later. It worked for me.
With a little help from my bud, I managed to roll us over and get him stretched out on top. Our long frames pressed one another. Our hips stroked our cocks into one another's crotches.
Greg's long arms pushed off the mattress so he could see my face and bend to kiss me. Meanwhile, I got to play with his hairy chest and gaze into his eyes.
His slow rhythm thrusts got heavier and we bounced more atop the bedspread. I couldn't resist any longer. When his body lifted off me with the next bounce, I pulled my legs out from under him, lifted my knees towards heaven and rolled my ass into the path of his downrushing cock. He kept it there.
The brown head of his cock pressed against the entrance of my body, each slow stroke testing the resistance of my body and the craving in my ass.
"Got lube?"
I pulled some out of the bed stand and we greased him up.
"A little soft," he said. So he went back to rubbing it against my quivering body. His cock stood ready again in seconds. "There?" he asked, prodding forward.
" A little lower."
A stroke or two, "There?"
"Yeah."
And he pushed, pushed just the head in, and kept swaying above me. Just a touch of pain, then he pushed all the way in and kept stroking. I assured him it felt good as soon as I could. And it did!
Greg was a slow solid fuck like the waves working the shoreline. Slow and steady. It had been six months since I had a good fuck and Greg broke my ass in right. The juices started to flow. I lusted for this mountain of a man towering over me, the forest on his chest and the lightning bolt he used on my body. His brown eyes were glazed with lust.
"Sorry, I takes me a long time to cum."
"Not a problem," I assured him with a smile. First spreading my ass cheeks wider to give him greater access. Then playing with his nipples, brushing his hairy chest in delight. I could feel my pre-cum pooling on my belly. And kissing, kissing, kissing, until the saliva ran between us like a silver cord connecting our souls.
Greg's hips began to gyrate faster, the occasional growl became a loud panting, his shoulders pinned mine to the mattress as he drove away at my sloppy ass. He grunted, grunted and grunted. His orgasm was announced with a long, low growl. Then he collapsed upon me.
"Thank you, thank you,thank you. That was so good Bill," he whispered amid heavy breathing.
I assured him it was my pleasure. We headed to the shower to clean up. His partner expected him at home.
I laid in my bed and replayed our adventures in my head. I made myself come twice that night. I hope we can get together in August!