He saw me and walked towards me.
‘Hey, you going home now?’ he asked, oddly friendly. Tipsy, perhaps.
‘Yeah, it’s time to go for me.’
I decided not to ask about Marc’s absence. I was hoping they had a big fight.
‘Do you want to grab a quick drink together before going home?’
My eyes were wide open. I was taken aback. I believe I wanted to; I wanted to have a moment with Jake together. Unfortunately, as soon as I was about to utter a word, my Uber stopped right next to me.
‘Maybe some other time, then,’ he said, then waved.
I got into the car not saying anything. Why I still loved such a man who hurt me so much, I couldn’t understand. But there I was, leaving a potential reconciliation to head to a man who was about to channel all of his sexual frustrations onto me.
The Uber stopped just a few roads past Hammersmith station. I got out of the car and banged my head on the roof, hard. I wasn’t sure whether going to a random sex date that drunk was a good idea, but alas, I was already there, and I had chewed on gum for the whole car trip, so my breath situation was hopefully under control. Carlos gave me quite a lot of instructions to get to his flat, which would require at least an alert level of drunk, which I wasn’t too sure I possessed. I was on a mission to make the whole ordeal as quick as possible, so I could go to bed, where it wouldn’t be an issue if my head was spinning constantly. I rang the buzzer which automatically opened the gate. It was one of those complexes made of multiple buildings, and I had no clue where to go. Flat 78 seemed far, and the numbers didn’t seem to make sense in the dark. I walked straight, or as straight as I could, so that I could at least get to the higher numbers. It was around midnight, and I could only hear my own steps. No one was around. I started walking faster, as I wanted to minimise the time I’d be spending by myself outside. Sometimes London at night can be scary. Finally, I heard a voice coming from above me.
‘Leo?’
I looked up and a short man with only a few tufts of hair around the sides of his head was standing at the top of a flight of stairs.
‘Hey!’ I shouted.
I was walking up the stairs and I couldn’t help but analyse his looks. Big round glasses, a silk robe and a pair of leather slippers.
‘Come in, quickly,’ he said in a Spanish accent.
At least we seemed to agree on the ‘quickly’ part. I got inside the house. It was a quaint little flat. The door opened onto a living room, with a big paisley red and beige sofa. A lot of artwork was hanging on the walls, with the common element of red. The house was filled with little objects, an inconceivable amount of stuff, probably gathered throughout the years as souvenirs. Cabinets upon cabinets of what seemed like Spanish War memorabilia.
‘Would you like to drink something?’ he asked politely, while removing my jacket and hanging it.
‘No, thanks,’ I said.
Yes, I said no.
The more I scouted for clues about this man’s life, the less I wanted to get naked with him. ‘Have a seat,’ he said, while pointing me to the sofa.
I was nervous this was going to turn into him illustrating a set of rules with a PowerPoint presentation. I sat down and noticed from accolades and photos in the room that Carlos was a teacher, or must have been a teacher in the past, judging by his age. He walked towards the sofa, and I was expecting him to sit down next to me, but I wasn’t so lucky. He quickly unzipped his trousers and pulled out a fairly short dick surrounded by grey pubes. Not fully erect, but right next to my face. No one had been so direct before, but I guess I was bound to find different personalities. I was just about to open my mouth, when he grabbed the back of my hair and shoved his dick into my mouth as quickly as he could.
It tasted unwashed but didn’t smell like it. Or maybe that’s just what old cocks tasted like. He was thrusting and trying to push it as far as he could, something that would usually bother me, as I had always had a terrible gag reflex, but this was a very innocuous penis, so there wasn’t much struggle there. He then took his robe off and removed his trousers completely. He slapped me on a cheek a few times to open my mouth and said ‘good boy’ more than I cared to hear.
On second thought, I wasn’t drunk enough for it. I kept on sucking until he slapped me again to get up and then he guided me to the bedroom. I only had a few seconds to notice my surroundings. This man was very fond of religious figures. The bedspread was rough, like it was made of thick wool. I’d usually sleep with the window open and a fan in front of my face. I doubt I could ever sleep in wool. He pushed me on the bed, abruptly. He turned me around so I could lie on my stomach and then pulled my arse towards him. I wasn’t sure what was happening. I had a bit to drink, sure, but I wouldn’t allow this old man to fuck me bare. But that was not what was about to happen. He wanted to spank me, hard. I was glad he couldn’t see my face, baffled, weirded out.
‘Yeah, mother fucker!’ he shouted between spankings.
It hurt. A lot. And he’d spank the same bit, over and over. I tried to make sex sounds each time, but it was getting more and more painful, and he seemed to enjoy it a little too much.
He didn’t disclose that he wanted me to be a submissive bottom during our chat. I would have asked for more money, or not showed up. Fuck this guy and his issues. I decided to take matters into my own hands and speed up the pace of this bullshit encounter.
‘Fuck me, please,’ I whispered.
I knew that limp sausage wasn’t going to hurt anywhere near as much as his hands were.
He was ecstatic. It was clear from his stupid smiley face that he thought he was some sort of Hispanic sex god. He quickly jumped onto the bed, back on the frame. I proceeded to remove his t-shirt for some reason. Not sure why that’d be better, but at least I could bite his nipples hard if he got trigger-happy with the spankings again. He pulled my head and put his balls in my mouth. Big, hairy balls.
I couldn’t wait to brush my teeth once I got home.
Meanwhile, he grabbed a condom from a drawer in his nightstand and attempted to put it on his little noodle. There was way more latex than flesh to work with.
Good.
I immediately abandoned my position between Ballsville and Musty Buttholeland and jumped on his waist, with my hands on his man tits. I had to take charge. I wasn’t going to be this man’s little bitch, regardless of what our economy dynamic actually was. I lubed up my hole and sat on his little dickie, ready to ride it as quickly as possible, until it would prematurely release itself. That’s exactly what I did.
‘Slow down,’ he muttered, but I wasn’t listening.
I went faster and faster and not even three minutes later his lament graced my ears. Carlos was done. His decrepit little swimmers were now in an oversized condom and I could finally fuck off home.
‘Sorry,’ he said.
For the spankings? For being such a weirdo? Or for coming too soon? The last one was a blessing.
‘So hot,’ I said, to make him feel better. I was getting worried as I hadn’t seen the cash yet. ‘Time to go,’ I announced.
He put his robe back on and grabbed his wallet. ‘I’ll call you an Uber.’
I didn’t expect that, but I couldn’t say no. It would have been a bitch to get home at that time of the night on public transport.