My raging hormones are on a hot guy reminiscing streak this week and I can't seem to get one more out of my head. About 2 years ago, I was invited to a small dinner party with 4 friends and once again I was the only guy amongst the girls. Until the host announced that a cute Spanish guy will also be joining us. At that point, I wasn't expecting anything because I was distractingly playing with her dog, and I remember thinking to myself: "How cute is cute?"
Then, the doorbell rang and he came in. Everybody gathered around the kitchen and introduced ourselves. The guy was hot, and oozes fraternity masculinity without a doubt. It took me a while to digest his looks although I didn't understand why. He was handsome, but somehow rather I didn't feel the immediate urge to pull him straight into my mouth, as I do with other hot guys.
D was from Andalucía, just months away from completing his Ph.D in aeronautical engineering. You could feel the effect and aura he has over girls. Everybody was engaged in casual chit-chat until it was time to sit down and eat. The intimidating hot Spanish stud took the seat right next to me. We were so close I could smell him. Throughout the whole night, I couldn't help but observe this guy like a famish hawk. He was worldly, intelligent, athletic, basically every check box a confidently attractive guy could tick.
My eyes caressed him in every way, and as a result, my neck suffered because I had to constantly turn my head to the right to look at him. He looks amazing from the side. Nice eyelashes, dark smouldering look, male model lips, arousing jawline and stubble. Damn, I was so aroused. The radioactive sexual vibe was just burning off him and right into my growing boner. I had to discreetly adjust my pants a couple of times because it was getting uncomfortable. He was so hot. Wait, he wasn't just hot, he was sex itself. Why didn't I feel this when we first shook hands? My primitive instincts were dangerously awakened and sitting right next to him gave me both torture and pleasure. I was sweating from within my own clothes.
The dinner was ending and it was time to leave. He decided to take a slow walk home. I asked if he was crazy because it was February, and it takes 40 minutes to walk all the way downtown in the middle of a freezing night. Apparently he enjoys cool night breezes and suggested that I join him because my flat lies strategically at about a quarter of the route he's taking. I agreed because the inner voice was ecstatic at the thought of being able to spend some time alone with him, guy and guy.
So the girls hopped into a taxi while I accompanied him on foot. We were walking through a heavily deserted park, and although I didn't know what to expect from this hot straight stud, but I casually brushed my right arm against his. I felt high, while there was no reaction from him as he continued talking. Maybe it's the alcohol or the breeze, but all I could think of was to taste those lips with my mouth and exchange nasal hot breaths in the middle of a cold winter's night. I want nothing more than to push him towards the dimly lit lamppost near the bush and please him with a blowjob. Then I will take him home and continue the love-making till the next morning.
My desires drove me to a point where I almost gave in to asking him directly if he fooled around with guys or if he was willing to give me his number. But the thought of severely embarrassing myself in front of a straight dude prevented me from acting out on my indecent urges. When we finally arrived at my building, we shook hands, bid each other goodbye and I never saw or heard of him again. Even though I was hoping very much that the opposite might happen. That he would have accepted my invitation to stay the night in my room. Until this very day, I still fantasise about passionate sex with him all the time.