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26.Indian-afternoon


Indian-afternoon




Atlanta has a large Indian/Pakistani community, which is a boon for fans of South Asian men like me. There are also a lot of Indian students here on visas, though of course there aren't as many as there were a few years ago. A month or so ago, I decided to hang out at a university in the downtown area to see if I could find some action. Although I had had sex with a couple of Indian and Pakistani men before, I hadn't gone cruising like this and was unsure what the results would be. After a fruitless afternoon spent loitering the library and the campus, I decided it was time to give up and go home. By now it began to rain heavily, as it often does this time of year. I waited with a group of students just inside the doorway for the rain to subside. One of the guys standing next to me was Indian. He was a little older than most of the students, perhaps in his early thirties. He was about 5'7", had a stocky build, a dark complexion, and a neatly trimmed goatee. I turned to him and spoke: "I feel like an idiot. I left my umbrella at home." "So did I. I can't afford to get my books wet, either," he said, pointing to his backpack. As soon as the rain stopped he hurried off. I assumed that would be the last I'd ever see of him. This weekend I returned to the university library to spend another afternoon there. After an hour or so I ran into him again, this time at the water fountain. He nodded in recognition. I took my chance and approached. "Bring your umbrella this time?" I asked. "No, I left it at home again. I don't think it'll rain today, though." "John" (his family is Christian) was originally from Kerala, but his family has lived in the US for many years and he spoke without an accent. We chatted for a while about nothing in particular. Out of the blue, he asked: "Do you have a girlfriend?" I wasn't sure what he meant by it, but somehow I felt that this wasn't a good sign. "Uh, I'm not interested in women," I said. "I'm not either," he said, smiling. I grinned back. The two of us walked together out of the library. "So what do you like to do?" he asked. "I play it safe." "So do I," I said, relieved. I wasn't sure what to expect, picking up a stranger like this. He explained that he had roommates, so we agreed to go to my place. Once inside my apartment, we quickly stripped off our shirts and embraced, standing just inside the doorway. Our hairy chests pressed together; his skin felt hot to the touch. After standing like this for a few minutes, we sat down on my bed. "Do you like to kiss?" he asked. I nodded enthusiastically. In previous encounters with Indian men, this had not been the case at all. We smothered each other's faces with kisses. I loved the feeling of his lips and his bristly goatee brushing against my cheeks, ears and neck; it sent a shiver down my spine. I buried my face in his neck, which was lightly scented with cologne. "Do my ears," he murmured. I explored every crevice of his ears with my tongue and he moaned in ecstasy. I could have done it forever. Feeling through his shorts, I could tell that his cock was already throbbing hard. He likewise massaged my cock through my pants. We then took off our pants and stroked each other's cocks with one hand, fondling each other's balls with the other. I ran one hand over his hairy legs. "John" had a smallish cock (but I'm not particular about size) with a dark purple head and lots of overhang on his foreskin. "Do you want to suck it?" he asked. I nodded and got a condom from my dresser, adding a bit of lubricant to the inside for extra pleasure. I knelt on the floor, rolled on the condom and took his entire cock in my mouth, grasping his hairy buttocks and savoring the musky smell of his pubes as he thrust his cock down my throat. Soon he began thrusting faster; I could tell that he was getting close to the edge. "Wait--I want to see you cum," I said and had him take off the condom. I lubed up his cock with Albolene and stroked it along the length of the entire shaft, watching the foreskin slide up and down over his moist, purplish cockhead. He began to breathe more heavily and thrust his hips. "I'm gonna cum," he moaned, stepping forward a little and standing astride me while I continued to stroke him. He came fairly hard; one spurt flew over my shoulder and a couple hit my chest. I enjoyed the feeling of his cum dripping down my hand and wrist. Afterwards he wiped his cock off on my chest; I loved the sight and the feeling of his warm cum dripping down my hairy chest. Now I lay down on my bed and let him jack me off. He stroked slowly up and down the entire shaft, massaging my chest and stomach with his free hand. A powerful orgasm spread through my entire body down to my toes. One spurt of cum hit my chin; a couple others landed high on my chest. He rubbed the cum into my chest, mixing it with his. Afterwards we took a shower together--though my shower stall is really too small for two people--and soaped each other up. I served him some tea as we chatted a little longer. He was still somewhat closeted, and was under a lot of pressure from his family to get married now that he was already in his thirties. "I've got to get back to school," he said finally as he headed out the door. "What's your phone number?" I asked. "I'd give it to you, but I don't want my roommates to find out anything. Don't worry, we'll see each other again." I certainly hope that is the case.




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