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2012/01/06

Hey Nineteen: Never Again!

Hey Nineteen
No we can't dance together
No we can't talk at all
Please take me along when you slide on down
- Steely Dan


This is one of those cases where you go into something fully knowing the outcome, but damned, if you didn’t do it anyway. I have never specifically sought out people younger than myself, as I prefer my men to have a little mileage on them. Typically 34-60 is my age range of choice. Every once in a while a real sharp 25 year old will slip through and I will even agree to see them more than once if they demonstrate to me that they are more than handling the situation.

This tale actually starts a week before I met this particular individual. I was sitting in my car, cruising the ads on Craigslist, when I spotted the kind of ad that just royally pisses me off. It was a 35 year old dude who was seeking a bottom – an 18-20 year old bottom! Usually when I see this I just check to make sure that there are no offers of money involved, as in claiming to be “generous” (which translates into sex for money). But something about the arrogance of this particular poster got to me and I had to write the person and tell him to grow the fuck up.

Turns out, based on the return email address, that this particular person and I had a run in on-line years ago. And this time, once I had written him, he would not stop emailing me, explaining away his legal, but reprehensible practices. I simply pointed out that what he was doing was a kind of pedophilia (only sort of true), that he needed to look at his behavior, and that healthy, mature adults do not exclusively seek out teenagers to bang. Suggesting that his behavior was a sign that he was stuck in a pre-adolescent state did not sit well with this dude. And – okay – I admit it – it was none of my business, but I also find it odd that this dude turned out to be the same guy I took issue with five years ago!

Ultimately, I wrote him back and told him that he could continue to send me all the emails that he wished and call me whatever names he liked and defend his behavior however he wished, but that I would no longer be reading his emails and that upon receipt, any future emails would be promptly deleted, unread. Then I told him to grow the fuck up, get some professional help, and try to develop relationships with men his own age before he finds himself buying a white van and cruising elementary school playgrounds. Yeah, I know, real mature on my part, right. But that is how I feel.

So, of course, the universe just has to butt in and teach me a sound lesson by giving me a taste of my own medicine. This occurs in the form of one plucky, sweet, nineteen year old kid that for the sake of anonymity I will call Houston. Houston hits me up two weeks before Christmas via one of my latest discoveries – SCRUFF. His profile pic is a black and white, upper torso/face shot with him wearing a dark suit and his hair slicked down and back. The skin on his face is so smooth, it looks incredibly tight. It is impossible to tell how old he is, as this info is also missing from his profile. According to GPS, he is not very far away from where I happen to be parked. He is sweet from the get go; very flirtatious, using lots of lol’s and winky/smiley faces. I send him a face pic thinking that will be the end of it, but he likes what he sees and remains persistent. He sends me a dick pic and an additional face pic. I send him more of me. We discuss what he’s into, I discuss what I’m into and it seems like a good match. Then I find out he’s nineteen and I put the brakes on.

Turns out he works the drive thru window at a nearby fast food joint. Houston wants me to drive through and come see him. Immediately suspicious, I ask him if this is a set up and if, when I arrive, he will just throw a drink in my face and laugh at me. He assures me that is not the case. The conversation then turns to my usual grilling of anyone who wants to meet me who also happens to be under the age of 30, which basically boils down to: why do you want to fool around with some old troll when you could be having hot sex with dudes your own age? I warn him that when I show up and he sees me in the flesh he will be very disappointed and that in my limited experience, these kind of age imbalanced hook ups usually end badly.

He’s having none of it. Buttering the roll, he lets fly with some awesome compliments and continues to plead for me to drive on over. I look at the time and actually consider doing so, but, as it turns out, time is on my side – I have choir rehearsal in less than half an hour so I tell him we will have to meet some other time. End of story. No, of course not.

Throughout the next two weeks Houston says “hi” via SCRUFF. I wish him happy holidays and a happy new year. He still wants me to come for a visit, to his place of work and I tell him why I think that is a horrible idea. Then he tells me how he can’t wait to get naked with me. Fortunately my holiday is pretty booked and there seems to be no opportunity where that could happen.

But then, the holiday ends. And I’m off work and sitting in my car a few miles away from his place of business. He hits me up and once again, insists I come drive through the drive thru window and visit him. I ask him if dudes do that and then flash him their dicks. Houston likes that idea. I send him a couple of pics of me and he tells me he’s hard. I tell him that’s what I want to order when I drive through – with extra special sauce (yeah, lame, so shoot me.) He tells me to come now. So… I tell him I’m on my way.

Good to his word, he’s in the first window. He is really tall, really thin, very cute, and very, very young. Very, very young. He has acne, for Christ sake! He’s very sly, rolls his eyes and tells me there are people in the hallway behind him, before leaning out the window and asking me to show him my dick. I am about to do just that when a car drives up behind me. I tell him I’ll just drive around again.

I go park and put on a cock ring. He seemed to be okay with me, so I figure what the hell. He then texts me. He thinks I’m cute and can’t wait to see me naked, lol, winky face. So… I text back: meet me In the bathroom. And he’s game! I quickly make my way to the restroom, figuring we’ll play looksie’s at the urinals. Turns out there is only one urinal and a brick stall with a wood-paneled door. I check my texts. Houston tells me to go into the stall or something, so I do. Once inside I realize that the stall is very deep and that no one can see me. I leave the door unlocked, drop my pants, and take off my shirt and t-shirt – for all intents and purposes, I am now standing naked in the mensroom of a fast food restaurant waiting to be walked in on by a 19 year old dude with acne. I text I’m there and he has already texted that he is on his way. The main door opens and he stands outside the panel door to the stall. I open the door and he comes in. He is hella tall, his eyes grow large at the sight of naked old me, as his hands quickly undo the front of his pants. He whips out a semi-hard dick that is just breathtaking to look at… the skin is so pure and unmarked. I sink to my knees and before I am even down to the base, the kid is rock hard. Like his body, his dick is long (9”) and thin. I run through my arsenal of oral tricks until I find the one that gets him gasping.

Pulling me up off the floor, he tells me he wants to fuck me. Without thinking, I turn around and bend over. He rams the full length of his rock hard dick right into my hole! No warning, no teasing, and – most importantly – no lube! This sends me jumping right off his dick, as I do my best to squelch the sound of pained anguish reverberating through my body via my ass and out my mouth. The pain is so great that I am sure I looked quite the sight as I bobbed and weaved and groaned. Houston eyes go wide, but his dick is harder than ever. Once I recover enough to tell him that in the future he needs to enter all asses slowly, I get back on my knees and see if I can rescue his load. Fact is, I really want another shot at his dick going in and out of my hole, since it has been over three weeks since I last got fucked and I want a little something something. But that is not to be, for within a minute of my mouth working his dick he tells me he’s about to cum.

I keep the head of his dick on my tongue, as I kind of want to feel that first shot hit the roof of my mouth. Instead, it flies right over my head. Before the second volley, my mouth is on his dick and he finishes his orgasm with my throat wrapped around the full length of his cock, my lips kissing the base where dick-meets-body. I spend a few moments making sure I have every last drop, for, as with most young folk, his spunk is as fresh and totally delicious. He quickly zips up and tells me he has to get back. I grab his face and give him a closed mouthed kiss before he leaves the stall. His lips are tight and a slight peck is all I receive for my efforts. Without a word more, he washes his hands and leaves.

I dress and get ready to leave, but before I do, I pause long enough to wipe up the glob of jizz that flew over my head and landed on the floor. I smell it. Intoxicating. Ah, youth. I make my way back to the car, catching sight of Houston standing at the main counter as I exit. He doesn’t look at me. Understandable. He’s talking to a co-worker of his, who has his coat on and is standing on the customer side of the counter. The co-worker eyes me and I flee.

Once in my car I check for texts. Nothing. Nothing on SCRUFF from him either. I send Houston a text, explaining that had I known we were going to do that I would have pre-lubed and that I hope we can do that again sometime. No response. I wait. I text him, by the way, you are beautiful. I immediately regret it – what a trollish thing to say. No response. Then the co-worker comes out and eyes me sitting in my car. Am I imagining it, or did he just give me a dirty look? I head back to the park I was sitting in when he first hit me up.

I give it 48 hours. The entire period, I replay the events and remind myself that I warned him that things would not end well. And you know what? I know better. I do. He may be of age, but I’m the adult! This will never happen again. I resolve to no longer hook up with anyone under the age of 25. Then I text Houston for the last time. “Message received. Sorry. Good-bye.”

I’m still kicking myself.

As I probably should.

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