Rewind

R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
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Moving makes you crazy. It also makes you forgetful. That’s not a stretch for me, considering I can’t always remember what happened ten minutes ago.
If you read my post ‘Lesbianism’ you may remember, The Illustrator. His actual name is Candy Mountain. Long story short: “Candy Mountain, Charlie, it’s Candy Mountain!” We met on St. Patty’s Day while my roomie was tryin’ to get her freak on, love her lil ‘facts of life face’ (she’s going to kill me for that). It wasn’t long after we made plans to hang out.
Meeting at the bar we had met seemed the easiest way to go about things. I dragged my roomie along, I just don’t think she drinks enough. We chatted and hung in the corner. I was the only one really drinking; I do so like a sailor on leave. My roomie only had one and Candy Mountain couldn’t drink because of an upcoming surgery. Getting his tonsils out meant no beer for a few weeks, but for better blowjobs in the future. That’s the saying, right?
I was glad I brought my roomie along until I realized that Candy Mountain wanted into my pants, which were ready to drop before we left the bar. Had we taken a cab and not the train it would have been a repeat of months before. Note: Giving rode head in a cab is tacky, but an effective form of entertainment. Eventually making it back to his apartment, which is incredibly close to my new apartment, we chatted for a bit.
I’m wary of guys that get my sense of humor. Remember, The Devil? I liked him because of the jokes and lowbrow banter. Learning from the past, I’m going less for personality and more for the shallow side of things: appearance! We started fooling around and something happened that’s never happened before. Even though there were no underwear present we were still joking around and having a good time. Typically I find the guys that are like; pants down, bite the pillow, and don’t squeal. This was the first surprise.
“Do you take a long time?” Candy Mountain asked me.
This was the second surprise. I was afraid to answer. I take a medium to long amount of time to finish my sexy business. In general, if I don’t focus on what’s in my hand or other places, I can take a month to arrive. Candy Mountain is the exact opposite. Too much excitement and he’s done. This will sound like a lie, but I’m totally attracted to that. I like knowing that he can get in and get right out. I’m a busy boy, I don’t have all day to be riding his candy cane. Now, when I say he’s fast, I mean he’s fast. A pinch of the nipple and a stroke of the pole and he’s done. I had to rush myself a little, but overall I’d give the entire experience a 9 out of 10 on the penis play scale.
We haven’t been able to hang out since our rendezvous due to his surgery, but I did see him at the gym recently. Had I not been in a dirty skank top and sweating like a pig I would have said hi. I’m looking forward to getting a beer with Candy Mountain, and I’m sure my roomie is looking forward to his lesbian friend’s next visit. I’m not sure if I’ve gotten her to the breaking point, but I figure between me and Candy Mountain we can break her lesbian cherry. Stay tuned!

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