Dallas specifically asked me to write up this encounter. He says it's the nastiest I've been with him, and he still enjoys watching the video we made.
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The roar from the engine as the rpms peaked reverberated through the frame of the motorcycle, slightly shaking me in the seat as the wind stream contoured through the vents in my helmet, tickling my face with cool air. I was on my way to Dallas's apartment in the mountains of a rural prefecture in the middle of Japan, excited about what would happen. Dallas was a hyper-verbal muscular gay daddy, twice my age. We had met when I tried to buy his motorcycle a month ago prior, and because I'm young and impatient, I just blatantly signaled to him that I was interested in him. He reciprocated, and we had been seeing each other every weekend since. This would be the third time that I had visited him at his apartment.
Once I arrived, I knocked on his door, holding my motorcycle helmet in one hand, my gloves deep in my leather jacket's pockets. In response, I heard the creaking of wood floors bending slightly as some approached from the other side. I stepped away from the door as it slowly swung open towards me, Dallas's muscled arm holding the door open.
Dallas was wearing a tight brown v-neck t-shirt that outlined his muscled arms and chiseled chest. Trimmed salt and pepper hair adorned his handsome avuncular face. A little chest hair peaked out of the shirt collar and his angular tattoos spiked out of his sleeves. His blue jeans likewise stretched to fit over his toned lower body.
"Hey slut. Glad you could make it," Dallas said, one side of his mouth grinning wryly, motioning me inside his apartment with his other hand.
"Why don't you wait until I'm naked to start calling me that?" I giggled in response, breaking eye contact as I stepped into the entrance and bent over to start unlacing my riding boots.
"Okay. Tesh it is," Dallas said, closing the door as he lustily examined my ass, which was pitched up at him as I took off my boots.
Finally out of my boots and my motorcycle helmet safely perched on a hat rack near the door, we both walked into his apartment, me in my socks and Dallas barefoot. The floor paneling again creaked as we made our way to his small living room, where Dallas had fucked me good the last two times I had come over.
"Take a seat and I'll get us some beers," Dallas said as he moved off to his kitchen, which was actually part of his living room. The sepia light of the sunset streamed through the windows, casting a scarlet tinge on everything in the room.
"Hey Dallas. The drinking laws in Japan. If we're drinking, then I need to stay the night. Is that okay?" I asked as I sat down onto Dallas's soft and old couch, looking around at his apartment. The sofa creaked in response to my weight, indicating its age.
His ratty sofa was the same as last time. The glass doors out to the balcony were still slimed with some of the dirt that blew out of the watermelon fields behind his apartment. His TV set was something from another era: antenna slunk out of its back and the rotating disks were probably broken. The small table between the sofa and the TV had the same wine glass stain on it from last week.
"You wanna stay the night? Good. I was hoping so," Dallas said, his back turned to me, fishing a couple of beers out of the back of his tiny refrigerator.
"Oh yeah. That'd be great. Thanks," I replied, smiling at my luck.
Dallas sauntered over to the sofa, a Japanese beer in each hand, and then sat down next to me, evincing another groan from the furniture.
"You got a change of clothes?" Dallas asked, handing me one of the beer cans.
"No. You mind if I borrow some of yours?" I asked, reaching out and taking the can, which was cool to the touch. I opened the tab and it popped and fizzed alive, the sound of barley dancing.
"Yeah, I'm sure there's something back there that will fit you," Dallas said as he popped open his own can and then reached it forward toward me.
"Kanpai," Dallas and I said simultaneously and then tapped his can against mine, the metallic ring loud in the humid air. (Dallas would not turn on the AC!)
We both took a long swig of the cheap Japanese beer. Dallas eyed me sideways as he continued to drink. I placed my cold beer on the table in front of us, the condensation already forming along the bottom, likely to leave a nice wet circle on the top.
Dallas smiled as he placed his can next to mine on the table. I smiled back. He leaned into me. We started kissing on his sofa. His arms snaked around my waist and pulled me into him as I took off my jacket and shirt. My hands wondered over to his chest, and then down to his pants, which contained the behemoth waking from its slumber beneath. Dallas took his shirt off too, revealing his toned stomach and defined pecs.
The humid air already had both of us lightly perspiring, and a thin sheen of sweat decorated Dallas's chest. Its salty taste greeted my tongue as I snaked it all over him. I started sucking his nipples, which I loved. He had shaved his chest since last time, so he was smooth, but his skin nonetheless maintained the texture of old sexy sandpaper.
After a few minutes of me nibbling his nipples and licking his chest down to his abdomen, Dallas bent me backwards and mounted me on the couch, our half naked bodies heaving with desire, his crotch throbbing into mine as he deeply kissed me. Letting me catch my breath, Dallas started licking my neck, chest, and nipples. After a few moments, he came back up to my face and started tonguing my mouth, demanding my eager attention, which I was happy to give.
