Second look at Marek

Originally published on June 6, 2007.

In Pinocchio, things got a little more interesting. Marek loosened up. Considerably.

He asked for a beer instead of cola. He couldn’t take his eyes off the porn. He put his arm around me as we were sitting there. And. Kissed me. Sexily and uniquely, in a way I can’t adequately describe. He licked and sucked my lips from one side to the other, tongue-in all the way as he did so. Pulling back a bit, he licked his own lips and smacked them. Then he smiled and laughed.

Despite that performance I could tell he was still a little nervous about kissing me in public. Breederboy and my reader were deep in conversation, but they were still at our table. I needed to take Marek somewhere to relax if I was going to go deep into his sexual possibilities.

There’s a “dark room” off the main bar area in Pinocchio but I’d never used it before. It has rugs and floor pillows like a harem so I asked Marek back there, asked him if he wanted to go privat. He shrugged, grabbed our beers and followed me to the back.

He was on me as soon as we lay down and we were wrestling and kissing and rolling around. He was on top for a few seconds and then me. At the end of one of my reversals I got up on my knees, raising up over him. I clamped my hand down on his crotch. I wanted to see what he had and if it was working okay.

He surprised me again by being fully hard. Not big but not small either. I rubbed him though his pants for a few seconds, enjoying the look on his face: his mouth was open and he was staring at me doing it and breathing hard. I got his pants down then as fast as I could and started to suck him.

About this time, a punter who had been watching us from the room’s beaded curtain doorway came and sat down next to us, putting his hand on my ass. I laughed but told him “Ne, ne, ne!” then went back to sucking Marek. The punter didn’t leave. I had to stop sucking, turn to this guy and ask him to leave, in English this time. He answered me in a German accent, “I go?”

“Yes, please go.”

He got up, left. Marek thought this was hilarious. I thought that the guy wasn’t bad-looking, younger than me, and if I hadn’t already been so into Marek, wanting him all to myself, I might have consented if, say, we were in a sex shop or sauna.

I went back to work. Or rather, Marek did: He began aggressively fucking my face, grabbing my head and putting it where he wanted it. I liked the power play and I like that he wanted to do it. I just don’t like being aggressively face-fucked. I guess I’m a top even when I’m sucking. But I let him get carried away a bit before taking my mouth off his cock.

He eventually rolled over, raised up like I had, pulled his shirt off and then tugged his khakis further down on his thighs. Then he unbuckled me as quickly as he could — silently and with a great deal of focus — and when my jeans reached my ankles, he dropped hard on top of me and began rutting like an animal.

If I hadn’t been so turned on, it would have made me laugh.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he grunted. A couple minutes of that and Marek gave me my third surprise: just like černy Peter had done a few months back, except without the fingers up my ass, Marek flipped me over by the shoulders, pulled my ass up to his crotch and tried to put his cock in.

I considered it for a moment. His dick wasn’t big enough to cause me much trouble, and the image of this butch young gypsy fucking me silly… well, it was a very good thought that would likely prompt many more good thoughts for the rest of my life.

But I had neither lube nor condoms on me, both were in my bunda in the coat check. Either one or the other would have done, but believe it or not, the main reason I didn’t let him fuck me was that I didn’t think I could have lived down the story of getting fucked in Pinocchio, of all places, or having Breederboy or someone else I knew walk in on us.

I also figured we had plenty of time in the future to try whatever we wanted; I had “proposed” to Marek before we had gone back to the dark room. He’d taken a long drag on his cigarette, given me a sidelong glance, then smiled and said nothing.

Marek took my refusal well and went back to fucking my face. I’d had enough of that, so I pushed him down on the pillows and sucked him until he came. He’s one of those boys who holds his breath for a minute or so before popping off, maybe with a few sharp puffs in and out, and then lets out a huge gasp when he actually does orgasm.

His load was nice but not copious. We cuddled for a few minutes as we lay there, but he didn’t seem too interested in getting me off. I didn’t mind because I saw the event as merely a prelude and an experiment. If he hadn’t performed, I would have simply paid him for his time and sent him on his way. Let’s just say he performed better than expected.

I thought we should go back to the front bar before some other punter decided he wanted to join us. Breederboy and my blog reader, whom I will hereafter refer to as Jonny, (Why, I don’t know, mostly because it’s easy to type and remember.) were still chatting away — discussing intensely is more accurate — and seemed in no hurry to leave Pinocchio. I, on the other hand, was ready to go after getting a taste of what Marek was like sexually.

Jonny had already agreed to let Marek and I sleep, if not fuck, in his flat. But only I was impatient. Despite the late hour, the bar had begun to fill up. A former rent boy who likes 15 and 16-year-olds walked in with two on his arm. They were quite queeny, one white and one gypsy, but both very good looking — the gypsy boy, in particular. They were prancing around in front of their date, dancing and goofing off. The whole bar had a good, unexpected last-chance sort of vibe. I could feel it as well, but that didn’t make me any less irriated about waiting for it to all be over so I could get with Marek again.

Eventually the lights came on, even though no one on the dancefloor nor in the booths seemed ready to go. The bar staff had to kick everyone out. I can’t remember the last time this happened at Pinocchio. I’m usually long gone by then anyway.

But at last we were on our way to bed, and sex, I hoped. We said goodbye to BB and trekked off toward vaclavskě naměstí.

On our way through the area around the station, we ran into Roman, a Ukrainian boy I frequently refer to clients. (He’s been getting mixed reviews lately, however, for acting reluctant to get fucked, something he used to be very consistent about.) Anyway, I like Roman a lot, and when he told us how a punter had kicked him out earlier for poor performance (again, butt-fucking was the issue), Jonny suggested he come along with us and crash. Roman and Marek appeared to get along well, and they chatted all the way to the flat.

We were all quite drunk and tired by the time we made it back to Jonny’s. I immediately got in bed, one of only three beds in the flat — Marek and I would have to sleep together in one single bed. He first trotted off to the toilet.

Everyone else was in bed, and the lights were off. By the time he came back, I’d already drifted off to partial sleep. He woke me up by taking my hand and putting it on his hard dick. We turned into each other and began snuggling and kissing (I kissed him anyway) and jacking each other. He came pretty quickly. His cum was splattered and smeared all over his lower belly; I took a little and sucked it off my finger.

I came just a little later, and then we both fell asleep again. Sometime early in the morning — a wan light had begun to seep in through the blinds — he again woke me up with his hard-on rubbing up against my thigh. He took my head and pushed it down under the covers. The quick move made me dizzy, and I took it slowly. I don’t remember him coming, so I may have fallen asleep sucking him off. I do remember putting my arms around him during the night and occasionally feeling him up. He always had an erection.

I woke up before he did and just watched him, sleeping. Both arms were over his head, his hands behind it. I love arm pits but his were especially pretty. Just enough long black hair in a thin line cutting across his pit; not everywhere, just that line.

He smelled wonderful.

His biceps looked meaty even when relaxed. The rest of his torso was almost completely smooth except for a few strands around his nipples and the tiniest rectangular happy trail just above and below his navel. A gorgeous boy.

We spent the day together, along with Roman, and he used the 1000 Kč I gave him for biznis — not enough really, considering the amount of time he spent with me — to buy us all breakfast. He also bought Roman and me packs of cigarettes. A good thing, too, since that was my last 1000. We spent a good part of the day trying to pawn my digital camera. I am as lost as the boys are.

Later, Roman told me that Marek had asked for his opinion on whether or not he should accept my boyfriend proposal. Roman told Marek that I was a good man but that the decision was ultimately up to him. I really wish I hadn’t asked. How is this boy going to accept a proposal from a homeless guy who has no accommodation to offer him? I was careless and unfair, especially since I hadn’t told him about my situation; I was taken away, completely taken away with him.

I look at him and want to take care of him. It doesn’t hurt that he also seems to have the same need for multiple orgasms per day as I do. We went out to Rudolfa later that day and he drank a few beers, which was a relief; I can’t imagine being in a relationship with someone who doesn’t drink.

He was more affectionate than he had been at Pinocchio, but also showed signs of jealousy when I put my arm around my friend Albi or kissed the cheeks of my other bar friends there. A little jealousy is cute, though. Marek would punch me, just on the other side of gentle, whenver he caught me paying too much attention to someone else.

I arranged for him to sleep at Albi’s place because, as I said, now that I’ve proposed to him, had sex with him, and spent some time with him, I cannot bear the thought of him sleeping on the streets with no real friends here. Albi agreed. He sometimes takes rent boys himself, and I was aware they might have sex. It made no difference. I could stomach it as long as he was warm and safe in someone’s bed.

I’d already been trying to figure out how I’d be able to budget well enough to give him 200 Kč a day, the bare minimum for “taking care” of a boy. I know it’s not much money, but it’s an amount I’d be willing to give if he gave it back to me in companionship, not even sex per se. I haven’t felt like this since Bohdan .

That should give me reason to worry, shouldn’t it?

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