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Disclaimer: basically just a collection of short stories and thoughts. It’s easier and at least I can complete my stories. 

How old is your love? - Part 1

 

Back in NS when time was the only commodity I had in abundance, I used to while it away on dating apps. 19 year old me was hot-blooded and eager for romance. Being gay can be lonely at times, and while one can certainly be happy by himself, I could not escape the occasional yearning for a kindred soul. In seeking my grandiose romance, I’d spend the days swiping on Tinder, or dragging down the Grindr homepage to reload it. 

 

This story will be about someone I met through Tinder. I’ll call him ‘Andrew’. Andrew, if you recognise yourself in this story, fret not, I’ll never expose your identity. 

 

Andrew was one of those guys whose profiles made my eyes light up. He was a doctor and studied at a good JC, with quite an appetising picture of himself at the gym. A hottie with brains is a no-brainer, and I worked hard to put my spell on him.

 

My mantra is that all good things should come in moderation. Be radiant, but never too bubbly; enigmatic without being cold; be interested but never give the game away. Of course, never veer too far off your actual personality. The narrative flow from text to meeting must be smooth. 

 

To put it plainly, Andrew was a nice guy to chat with, and I was smitten. Before we ever met up I was jerking off to fantasies about the hot doctor from Hwachong. 

 

It so happened that we met some time before my birthday, providing just the right amount of runway before we finally met up to help me celebrate. 

 

That night was special. He fetched me to a lovely cafe, and we made small talk in his car. Smiling was usually a tedious task during meetups with guys, but it felt easier with Andrew. He was pretty much everything I could desire in a boyfriend: successful, handsome, filled up his shirt with his puffy muscles, a great conversationalist. I was so happy I felt like I was glowing. 

 

At the cafe, Andrew offered to treat me to dinner. ‘Aww, thanks!’ I said. But in my mind that was a given. It was my birthday, and his financial prowess far exceeded mine. Not that I wasn’t thankful. I got chilli crab pasta and made a show of refusing drinks. They were expensive, I complained, which was true. But the point was to virtue-signal and appear that bit more attractive to Andrew.

 

Now at this point some of you may be dismayed, thinking that I’m an inauthentic prick who would eventually fail to keep up his ‘act’. Except, I wasn’t really pretending, because I wasn’t planning to spend Andrew’s money frivolously once I got him. And what exactly is our ‘true personality’? We all act differently before different people, and the first few dates with someone calls for us to show the best sides of ourselves. Our most authentic, uncontrolled selves are usually appalling, and refinement of our behaviour shouldn’t be a bad thing.

 

My little tactic worked. ‘No la, just order. It’s really not that bad,’ Andrew coaxed.

 

‘Are you kidding me? That’s like 2 chicken rice if I bookout. Maybe we could get a cheaper drink later elsewhere.’

 

I was playing the endearing heartland kid card, and it worked. Andrew pursed his lips with a resigned smile as I shut the menu with the tiniest tinge of regret. 

 

‘So how long have you been using Tinder?’ I asked Andrew.

 

‘For about a year maybe. But I’m not on it often because I’m usually busy with work.’

 

‘How’s your luck with it so far?’

 

‘Mmm...I’ve made a few friends. But most people there just want sex.’

 

‘So have you found anyone you liked?’

 

‘Haha - I’m attached.’

 

I felt my gut plunge and my blood freeze as my neurons fired off repeatedly: don’t drop the smile, don’t drop the smile, don’t drop the smile. The status quo had to be retained as I figured out the next step and the right reaction.

 

I can’t even remember what nonsense I talked about, but I steered the conversation away from Tinder and relationships. 

 

How could he not tell me on Tinder?! And why did I ever think I had a chance to get such a guy?! I oscillated between anger, embarrassment and disappointment, but none of those tangled emotions made it near the surface. My demeanour was otherwise calm and breezy - I was afraid of what Andrew might think if he detected that I was upset. After all, I didn’t think I had the right to be. I was a lowly NSF who had reached far beyond my league. What a fool. 

 

While eating my pasta I suddenly felt pathetic and wished it hadn’t been a treat. Beneath my smile I wanted to flee the cafe, and for some unknown reason, I wanted to cry.

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How old is your love? - Part 3

 

Thinking back, there were many warning signs that I refused to heed. Andrew was attached and 10 years older. From our chats after the first meeting, I found out that he and his boyfriend were the perfect poster gay couple. They had met in university while pursuing their medical degrees, fallen in love, and gotten together.

 

I was pursuing the faintest of possibilities and knew it, even if I didn’t want to admit it. But what was Andrew doing on Tinder if he really was happy? If he was, why did he allow that night to happen? Enamoured and inspired by puppy love, 19 year old me was determined to find a chink in Andrew’s relationship. Finding that sort of connection on Tinder had been so difficult, and I didn’t want to lose it. The only way not to, was to progress. Casual flings would have led nowhere.

 

The only problem was that more warning bells were about to be rung. On our second meetup Andrew told me that his relationship had lasted 8 years. It made sense, given his age then. But that was something I had never calculated, and to hear it from his mouth was unnerving. 

 

Our second meetup ended in orgasms just as passionate. 

 

I had lied to my parents that I would be back late as I was celebrating my friend’s birthday at a chalet. The truth was that, near 11pm, I was camping outside Andrew’s flat with him. We were waiting for his father to fall asleep so that we could use his bedroom for our rendezvous. It was lame but thrilling, like we were exploring the beginning of something special. Already, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other on the stairs.

 

When Andrew decided it was finally safe to enter, we carried out the operation carefully. He was the first to unlock the gate and enter, thereafter texting me to come in quietly. I was so fearful as I tiptoed through his living room, which was lit by the soft red glow from an altar - what if his father decided to take a piss? Luckily, as instructed, I made it to his lit bedroom without fuss and shut the door. I heard Andrew shutting the main gate outside.

 

Andrew then came in and shut the door. He noticed me looking at his desk - I am a naturally inquisitive person. His desk, unlike mine, was neat and organised. Like me, however, he paid attention to detail, but in a different way.

 

Andrew slipped his arms around my waist in an embrace and rested his head on my shoulder. I turned around to look him in the eye.

 

‘What if I moaned too loud and your father heard us?’ I asked cheekily.

 

Andrew smiled in a way that made my heart ache. ‘Then you deserve to be punished.’

 

With that, he leaned in toward my lips, and never had I been kissed so tenderly. 

 

We stumbled clumsily and fell on the bed, where our clothes were flung on the floor like they were a nuisance. Andrew rested my back on a pillow against his headrest as he attacked my nipples - my favourite spot of pleasure. 

 

He did it like an expert, sucking and nibbling on one while flicking the other with his finger. I was moaning with my eyes tightly shut. 

 

‘Mm...you like that?’ 

 

Lost in ecstasy, my only viable response was to moan even louder as I ran my fingers through his hair. 

 

‘Fuck yeah...I love your moans,’ Andrew said in a raspy voice.

 

And I could only writhe and call out in bliss, like one of those boys getting pleasured in Japanese porn. 

 

 It only got better. Andrew’s mouth soon traveled lower, and my back arched involuntarily when he tongued the left of my hipbone to my right. Never did I know that that part of me could be so sensitive. Doctor Andrew was schooling me on the human body.

 

But my favourite lessons were still the ones I had learnt before. I knew what was coming up when I felt a tongue lick the slit on my hard rod and then around its cap. When the lips wrapped around my cock, I sighed in relief. Andrew went slow at first, licking me as he went up and down. And down he went, using his throat to do things to me that I couldn’t fathom. 

 

Things got serious, fast. Andrew was soon slurping on me like the recoil system of a machine gun, rhythmic and fast. His hands reached up to fondle my nipples. I opened my eyes and it was a sight to behold. This doctor was working so hard to make me feel good, and this itself made me incredibly horny.

 

The stroking of his lips against my dick head made me slowly realise I wasn’t going to last too much longer. 

 

‘Eh, if you keep going, I think I’m going to cum.’

 

My warning fell on deaf ears.

 

‘You really want me to cum ah? Eh!’

 

Still no response as Andrew’s head bounced up and down my cock. Seeing this man want my cum so bad filled my chest with an inexplicable sweetness, and I wanted to fulfil his wish. In moments, I was past the point of no return. I moaned quite uncontrollably, thrusting my hips into Andrew’s mouth as I shot jet after jet of my essence down his throat. It was an orgasm so intense I swear white spots dotted my vision while my eyes were shut.

 

I felt almost like I had given birth, heaving weakly while I lay still on the pillow. Andrew’s Adam’s Apple thrust downward - once, twice as he swallowed the liquids I imparted him. 

 

Blowjobs had never been my favourite way to cum. In fact, I’ve barely ever came from one. So as I bathed in the afterglow, and in the dim light from the table lamp, I felt all my doubts disappear. I allowed myself to be enveloped in a feeling I never had before. 

 

I pushed Andrew down and clambered on him. Looking down into his eyes, I told him, ‘I really like you.’

 

‘Me too.’

 

I buried my face in his neck - it was his turn to cum. 

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  • 10 months later...
On 6/4/2020 at 8:36 PM, PretentiousWriter said:

How old is your love? - Part 3

 

Thinking back, there were many warning signs that I refused to heed. Andrew was attached and 10 years older. From our chats after the first meeting, I found out that he and his boyfriend were the perfect poster gay couple. They had met in university while pursuing their medical degrees, fallen in love, and gotten together.

 

I was pursuing the faintest of possibilities and knew it, even if I didn’t want to admit it. But what was Andrew doing on Tinder if he really was happy? If he was, why did he allow that night to happen? Enamoured and inspired by puppy love, 19 year old me was determined to find a chink in Andrew’s relationship. Finding that sort of connection on Tinder had been so difficult, and I didn’t want to lose it. The only way not to, was to progress. Casual flings would have led nowhere.

 

The only problem was that more warning bells were about to be rung. On our second meetup Andrew told me that his relationship had lasted 8 years. It made sense, given his age then. But that was something I had never calculated, and to hear it from his mouth was unnerving. 

 

Our second meetup ended in orgasms just as passionate. 

 

I had lied to my parents that I would be back late as I was celebrating my friend’s birthday at a chalet. The truth was that, near 11pm, I was camping outside Andrew’s flat with him. We were waiting for his father to fall asleep so that we could use his bedroom for our rendezvous. It was lame but thrilling, like we were exploring the beginning of something special. Already, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other on the stairs.

 

When Andrew decided it was finally safe to enter, we carried out the operation carefully. He was the first to unlock the gate and enter, thereafter texting me to come in quietly. I was so fearful as I tiptoed through his living room, which was lit by the soft red glow from an altar - what if his father decided to take a piss? Luckily, as instructed, I made it to his lit bedroom without fuss and shut the door. I heard Andrew shutting the main gate outside.

 

Andrew then came in and shut the door. He noticed me looking at his desk - I am a naturally inquisitive person. His desk, unlike mine, was neat and organised. Like me, however, he paid attention to detail, but in a different way.

 

Andrew slipped his arms around my waist in an embrace and rested his head on my shoulder. I turned around to look him in the eye.

 

‘What if I moaned too loud and your father heard us?’ I asked cheekily.

 

Andrew smiled in a way that made my heart ache. ‘Then you deserve to be punished.’

 

With that, he leaned in toward my lips, and never had I been kissed so tenderly. 

 

We stumbled clumsily and fell on the bed, where our clothes were flung on the floor like they were a nuisance. Andrew rested my back on a pillow against his headrest as he attacked my nipples - my favourite spot of pleasure. 

 

He did it like an expert, sucking and nibbling on one while flicking the other with his finger. I was moaning with my eyes tightly shut. 

 

‘Mm...you like that?’ 

 

Lost in ecstasy, my only viable response was to moan even louder as I ran my fingers through his hair. 

 

‘Fuck yeah...I love your moans,’ Andrew said in a raspy voice.

 

And I could only writhe and call out in bliss, like one of those boys getting pleasured in Japanese porn. 

 

 It only got better. Andrew’s mouth soon traveled lower, and my back arched involuntarily when he tongued the left of my hipbone to my right. Never did I know that that part of me could be so sensitive. Doctor Andrew was schooling me on the human body.

 

But my favourite lessons were still the ones I had learnt before. I knew what was coming up when I felt a tongue lick the slit on my hard rod and then around its cap. When the lips wrapped around my cock, I sighed in relief. Andrew went slow at first, licking me as he went up and down. And down he went, using his throat to do things to me that I couldn’t fathom. 

 

Things got serious, fast. Andrew was soon slurping on me like the recoil system of a machine gun, rhythmic and fast. His hands reached up to fondle my nipples. I opened my eyes and it was a sight to behold. This doctor was working so hard to make me feel good, and this itself made me incredibly horny.

 

The stroking of his lips against my dick head made me slowly realise I wasn’t going to last too much longer. 

 

‘Eh, if you keep going, I think I’m going to cum.’

 

My warning fell on deaf ears.

 

‘You really want me to cum ah? Eh!’

 

Still no response as Andrew’s head bounced up and down my cock. Seeing this man want my cum so bad filled my chest with an inexplicable sweetness, and I wanted to fulfil his wish. In moments, I was past the point of no return. I moaned quite uncontrollably, thrusting my hips into Andrew’s mouth as I shot jet after jet of my essence down his throat. It was an orgasm so intense I swear white spots dotted my vision while my eyes were shut.

 

I felt almost like I had given birth, heaving weakly while I lay still on the pillow. Andrew’s Adam’s Apple thrust downward - once, twice as he swallowed the liquids I imparted him. 

 

Blowjobs had never been my favourite way to cum. In fact, I’ve barely ever came from one. So as I bathed in the afterglow, and in the dim light from the table lamp, I felt all my doubts disappear. I allowed myself to be enveloped in a feeling I never had before. 

 

I pushed Andrew down and clambered on him. Looking down into his eyes, I told him, ‘I really like you.’

 

‘Me too.’

 

I buried my face in his neck - it was his turn to cum. 

So did he?

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