Another Scruff hookup last night. This was the opposite of the one the day before. We told each other our names. We engaged in conversation. He was cute.
It was just what I needed. It was sweet and nice and dirty. He rung my buzzer. I went downstairs to let him in. I was very pleasantly surprised in the way that I rarely am when I open up the door for an online hookup. Rather than his pictures looking better than he did, it was the reverse for once - this person was way more attractive than I had thought. I walked up the stairs ahead of him to my apartment, a huge smile on my face he was unable to see. I offered him some wine and we sat on my couch and talked as Kurt Vile played in the background. We smoked some weed at some point and kept talking and talking.
This is what turns me on, conversation. I was stoned and smoking a cigarette out my window when I told him this.
We eventually started making out. Clothes were shed. We had sex in my bed and the air conditioning on the other side of my apartment was doing little against the heat of the summer night, little against the heat of our bodies pressed together. I buried my face in his armpits, in his ass, in his neck. I inhabited various worlds, lost myself in smells and moisture.
So this guy is close to my age, really cute, likes dirty sex, doesn't wear deodorant, listens to good music, and smokes weed - can it get any better, you may be asking. Well, yes, my friends, it can: he is also the type of guy that brings poppers with him.
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