His online profile noted that he was more interested in “soft sex and more about kissing, touching, and feeling each other”.  He immediately caught and held my attention.  Then he continued, “I like cuddling and nipples, very much!”  My attention now firmed and confirmed: I wanted to get with him….no, I needed to get with him.  With a bit more back-and-forth we both knew we really must meet.

The photos he shared to me presented as a nice looking guy, not overly handsome but one with keen piercing eyes and a sweet smile.  In one pic, the rolled sleeve of his shirt allowed a glance at a haired forearm.  From all of my experience, I knew that a haired forearm often meant haired legs also, a most welcomed factor which quite greatly heightened my eagerness for him.  His having told me his height and weight, I quickly calculated and envisioned him to be in the ilk of a slim, hairy-legged, basketball player – of the type in the photo up above, though his actual facial features were in accordance with those Viet ones in the photo down below.

I was to be in Hanoi during the following week and we agreed on a convenient evening.  With both of us wanting to assure the other that we were good boys, we further agreed we would meet at my hotel, for just a coffee and a chat.  Then possibly, if we felt comfortable, we might move on to my room.

He rang upon arriving in the hotel lobby.  Anxiously, I hastened down stairs.  Stepping out of the elevator, I saw him sitting relaxed on a sofa in an alcove of the lobby.  He wore a long sleeve shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, just like he had in one of his photos.  And, he wore shorts revealing those hoped-for slim, hairy legs.  He stood; we shook hands; and casually moved on toward the roof-top terrace for a coffee.

I was immediately attracted to him, physically.  And, after a bit of conversation the attraction was aural.

We feel into a good conversation and were quite comfortable with each other.  Although we were not too rushed, we both knew that we were on a good track, and one which was quite likely to lead up to my room.  And so, after a while of cute eye grins, dancing eyebrows, and fingertips playfully touching each other’s hands as we made our points in happy chit chat, I asked if he’d like to move to the room.  The sparkle in his eyes said conveyed a ‘yes’.  Quite anxious to experience the “touching, feeling each other, kissing, the soft sex” that he had said in his text to be his want, my nipples firmed-up with anticipation. 

Unfortunately, the room’s furniture was limited and had no sofa.  I offered him the “comfortable chair”.  I sat in front of him on a smaller chair, with a small coffee table aside us.  As we continued our chat, his allure was strong.  I wanted to sit next to him and touch with easy grazes as we talked, but it was not possible due to the furniture arrangements. 

Soon, I just could not wait longer.  As he was quietly speaking, I leaned forward on a line toward one of his nipples.  It had been firmed, hard, and pointed since I had first seen him, and it was clear to me that it needed my touch.  Remembering that he had said he was interested in “gentle touching” (and that had been one of his strongest beguiling charms), I ever so lightly brushed the nip’s tip with a soft swipe.  He immediately stopped speaking and his eyebrows burrowed to a slight frown.  It chilled me to think that I had offended him, but I continued because his frown conversely was so sexy and tempting.  There were some small seconds of silence and then almost in an apologetic whisper he said, “I can’t speak while you do that.”  And then, the softest sexist sigh….

I reached for his other nipple as he reached for both of mine.  His fingertips hovered hardly a hair above my firm and pointed tips, but that bit of infinitesimal space was filled with electric pings.  We pleasured and tortured each other with playful, gentle, and loving nip touches, flicks, and pinches. 

We each opened our eyes and slowly tilted heads together and then held the pose with our mouths just a fraction apart but languidly open to the other.  We breathed each other’s breath.  Our mouths touched.  Our lips gently sucked and our tongues met.  We breathed heavily with tiny gasps.  We continued to firmly pinch the others nipples in unison.  A duet of moans filled our intimate space.  Our heaving chests added to the pleasure.  We released the others tongue and lips after one more mouth suck, then we stayed mouth close and just shared little puckered pecks, so sweetly and so gently, Being the soft sex guys that we were, we found in each other that which we so seldom found in another.  We caressed and gently loved.

Moving to the spacious bed and reclining, we found the pleasure of leg cuddles, the rub of his leg hair hugely arousing.  We held each other in full body hugs with our hands gently and softly exploring all the carnality the other offered.  His explosion was volcanic, the largest I’ve ever witnessed.  I joined him.

In afterglow, we continued to lay and caress with gentle brushes of our fingertips, and we talked.  We were so easy together, right for each other, and had so fully enjoyed each other.  And thus, at the time for his leave we stood at the doorway, shared a few gentle pecks and light squeezes.  Since, I have longed for his gentle spirit and touch, though I’m not likely to see him again, but I remember.

Copyright 2021 Travels with Gay Papa

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