07 March 2011

What's Up, Chuck?

Horrified. I was completely and utterly horrified.

I went on a date with a gentleman caller named Chuck last weekend. He had a few red flags on him I overlooked as he didn't think they were big deals; why should I? He lived a good 50 miles away and he was about 10 years my junior. Now, I love a younger guy - who doesn't? But when I have been in the "LTR" mode, practicality MUST be a priority. In addition, a 23 year-old who has not come out of the closet yet, nor has ever been in a relationship isn't someone who logically would work out when looking for an everlasting love.

In any case, I gave it the old college try. Yet, within five minutes of meeting him, I knew it wasn't going to go any where. When he immediately asked if I wanted to "toke up," I chalked this up to a hook-up. He also had a "mumble and giggle" I wasn't appreciating all too much. In some circles, it can be offensive.

DeeCue's Friend: "Hi, how are you?"
Chuck: "Mumble mumble mumble. Tee hee."
DeeCue's Friend: "Excuse me?"
Chuck: "Tee hee."

It just wouldn't work.

But I backed myself into a corner: I wanted to hang with him so badly for whatever reason that when he said he worked the 3am to 11am shift in pathology, I told him to come over, stay, and then head to work. I know, I know: who cares if he is driving over an hour to see you , will be at your place at 9pm, and will have to just turn back around thirty minutes later - you just do not make commitments like that. But I did. I'm usually the type of dater who opts for the coffee or drink versus the dinner. There's just an easy out at least. What the fuck was I doing?

But I caved and there I was - stuck. We made out, fooled around, and consummated our hook-up all by 11pm. Then it was down hill from there. Naturally, I was ready for bed. He on the other hand, was operating on his "3-11 shift" time, was touchy feely, and to put it bluntly was annoying. I do want that - eventually - but not from someone I wasn't vibing. At four o'clock, I woke up to Chuck giving me a blow job. It was good. Seriously. I was groggy, enjoyed it, and felt a tad aggressive seeing as how my blissful slumber was interrupted, albeit by a decent cocksucker.

Some background before I continue: a guy I have been hanging with on the regular lately, and whom I will blog about next month, does this total dominant move where as I'm sucking him off, and he then holds my head still when I get down to the base. He proceeds to lightly tap my cheek and say in a guttural whisper: "yeah, that's my boy." Sigh and swoon. Of course, I decided to use this move on Chuck. I put both hands on his head, guided him down slowly, and held him there. As I was about to tap his face, Chuck's throat tightened and I let him go. He came up for air . . . and vomitted all over my cock.

He looked up at me like a dog who greets you at the door after having chewed up all your 9 inch dildos or 9 inch heels in your closet. He apologized and ran to the bathroom to fetch a towel. As he cleaned up, I teld him not to worry because it happened to me all the time.

It really doesn't. I have no gag reflex and have a trick jaw. (Shameless advertising.)

Point of the conversation: Always have a moist towelette handy.

- DeeCue

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