Superheroes: Wolverine

This one was super random. Last year my dad went to Cuba with a buddy of his. Being a tried and true hippy, they befriended a young lone traveler—the three men continued the journey together for about a month. Upon return, my father emails me and tells me about the guy. He lives in Los Angeles, he’s a photographer and having an art show of the work he shot while they were on the road. He said I should go. Okay, Pa. I’ll get on that.

Few days later, I looked up dude’s website and holy shit, he’s fine as gell. Milk chocolate skin (we really should come up with another way of saying black guy) and some of the best dimples I’ve ever seen! Why yes, I’ll drop by cutie pie’s show. Which happened to be the same night as my Photo L.A. show and the night I hooked up with Superman.

I went to the traveler’s show. I met him and told him who I was. There was obvious attraction. I bought one of his ten-dollar prints. His first sale ever. Not having change, he used a new app and my debit card. I was on my way.

The following day, I checked my bank account (for something unrelated) and saw that he had accidentally charged me a grand! My account was way overdrawn. Although the sale was pending. I found him on Facebook and messaged him. Poor guy was mortified. To be honest, he was rattled and doing a million things during the purchase (as happens on opening nights of shows). We back and frothed and eventually (a few days later) it was removed. No harm. And surprisingly, no bank fees.

Having zero shame, I told him the real reason why I went to his show. He said I was cute too. Yadda, yadda yadda, we made a date.

He had jury duty downtown, so on his two-hour break, we had lunch. I picked him up. He wasn’t as tall as I usually go for, but he’s not short either. Nice body and a cute, casual style. And that smile, Jesus. We had lunch at Pete’s Café. The bartender knows me and usually gives me a free drink (or two). Wolverine (since I was on a superhero kick, that’s what I named him) orders a Coke, says he shouldn’t drink. What? Jury duty?! I’d be hammered. He had a couple sips of my cocktail. He admitted that he’s not a big drinker. In fact, he was sort of surprised that I ordered a drink at lunch. Oh boy.

Lunch was a tad awkward, but we made the chit chat. Then it was time to drive him back.

“You know, I could do some writing and meet up with you when you’re done in a couple hours.”

“Sure, that would be great!”

“Cool, text me when you’re out. I’ll go back to Pete’s.”

Couple hours and 2.5 additional drinks later, he was sitting next to me at the bar. He ordered some food and a glass of red wine. He asked how many drinks I had had.

“Two point five.”

“Plus the two before?”

“Oh, right. Yes.”

“Wow, you don’t seem like you’ve had that many.”

Oh honey.

1.5 glasses of wine in and he’s tipsy.

“I get horny when I drink red wine.”

“Is that right?” Smirk.

“Yeah, I’ve got half a boner just looking at you right now.”

Fun.

“Can I come over to your place?” he asks.

“Right now?”

“Yeah, but I have to be somewhere in an hour and forty-five minutes.”

Hmmmmm. I’m not liking the idea of a weird rush first hook up, but fuckit.

“Sure. Fuckit, let’s do it.”

We paid up and he followed me. I called Erin on the way.

“Wolverine is following me. We are about to hit it and quit it. He’s got like a four-minute window. I’m insane.”

“Yes, and it’s why I love you. Report after.”

“Okay.”

We parked. I showed him the house. It was suddenly a little strange. We sat on the couch and looked at some of my art photography books. Awk-ward. As well as, tick tock. I put music on and brushed my teeth (lesson learned!). I went back to the couch. I kissed him and told him to come with me. We laid on my bed. More kissing. He’s a good kisser, but I don’t know. Something was off. I could tell that it was going to be one those hook ups. Not a great one. We got undressed, I went down on him. Gorgeous cock. He seemed uncomfortable with me down there. Weird. At this point I sort of just wanted it over. Already! I grabbed a condom and put it on backwards. Duh. Grabbed another one. Really paid attention this time. Condoms should be color coded for outside and inside. Voila! I lick my fingers and put some of my magic spit on my pussy. I wasn’t turned on.

I climbed on top. Sex proceeded. He felt good inside of me, but wasn’t much umf or spark. It was a strange warm up. I guess. We did the deed. Different positions. He was good at the sex, but the whole thing lacked luster.

“I want you to come on my cock. Come for me, baby.”

Sorry kid, not gonna happen. Clap clap clap. Not gonna happen. I was wishing he would come too, but…

“Baby, I probably won’t come. I don’t usually the first time with someone.” he tells me. Well, that’s different. I wonder how many times I’ve uttered this exact sentence.

“I guess we’re the same. I don’t usually either.”

Fine. Let’s end this. He pulls out and takes the Magnum off (which was tight on him). We kiss. He’s still hard. He strokes himself. I lick his nipples. He moans. I continue. He comes. Then immediately gets weird about it. Like I care. Dude, I’m happy! Everyone should come! Trust me, I would if I could. I skip to the bathroom to wash up. We get dressed. He leaves. So, that happened. I called Erin. I made some food. Then I jacked off.

About a month later I posted some ridiculousness about not getting great head when single, the emphasis on the word great. He messaged me, “Do I ever get a second chance with you?”

I didn’t respond. Couple days later I was with Frankie, having a Sunday funday when I get a text from him.

“Was I bad in bed?”

“Not at all. I’m about to go into a movie. I’ll expound later.”

“You can be honest.”

[post movie]

“Hey there, thing is, I just didn’t feel any spark. You’re hot, a good kisser and you have a beautiful cock.”

“Thanks hun, I think.”

He added some stuff about his ex-girlfriend.

“Thanks. It was definitely rushed, still had fun though. Thanks for your honesty.”

“I did too. You’re welcome. Takes balls to ask that question.”

“LOL. I know. Your recent posts really make me want to go down on you.”

“Ha! Maybe we’ll have to met up again. (Wink)”

What’s wrong with me? Oh, I know, the need for Magnum XXL’s. Shit’ll get me every time.

“Yeah. Definitely. I’m sure you taste amazing.”

“So I’ve been told. I have no shame.

And that was that. We’ve remained friends (online) but have not seen each other again. He’s reached out a couple times but I haven’t made it happen. I’m not really interested in mediocre sex. Not when I get paid to have sex. It’s not like I’m lacking sex in my life. Might as well find someone where’s there’s a spark.


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