Cristoph by Kinoshi

Cristoph

#3 of The Diary of Lucifer Stone

I went to go see Christoph again today. He's a pleasant old ram, alright.

Christoph was one of the first hookups I ever made on Craigslist, way back when my expectations were far less battered. I'd had a few legitimate encounters from time to time that I would meet somehow or another and they'd be about my age or so. On all the occasions, the sex would range from awful to â€˜meh' at best and I was beginning to wonder what it was about people my age that made them so god damned terrible at doing what seemed so simple. It was kind of irritating that after we'd be done they'd always have this look, and they'd smile, and they'd nuzzle me all affectionately and go on about how incredible the sex was and I'd just think to myself "...no, it wasn't."

The ad I posted that night was a call for an older partner. I don't remember what the age range was, but it was definitely older. Back then, I was surprised to see so many responses to an ad and I wasn't sure what I was going to do with all of them but eventually, most of the conversations just kind of died off as they went on.

The one I eventually met up with was him: a ram that was undoubtedly twice my age if not a little more. I really wasn't expecting much looks-wise so I wasn't disappointed when I arrived at the door (since he preferred to host). His fur was probably a nice shade of white or maybe a more vibrant gray when he was younger but now it's more of a dull gray. His fur has thinned and there's a patch between his horns that's balding a little, but he's surprisingly healthy despite being a bit overweight.

It was a nice house which was a little ruined by the fact that I was kind of on edge for a while. I kept looking over my shoulder or keeping him in my peripheral to make sure he wasn't going to try and chloroform me or something else you see done in movies. But he was nice in that kind of grand-fathery sort of way which made it really hard for me to imagine getting fucked by him at the time.

He asked me a couple of shallow things. Work. School. Hobbies. I suppose, in retrospect, he was trying to break the ice and looking back, I'm sure that it wasn't the sort of thing he usually did.

Eventually he kissed me and my brain started turning. I paid careful attention to his kiss and compared it to kisses I'd had in the past. I could taste red wine on his tongue but that was really the only thing that jumped out at me. His paws didn't really feverishly move over my body either; they pretty much rubbed up and down my sides as if he were admiring my frame more than anything else. In my mind, I was waiting patiently for him to suddenly start wowing me and wondering how he was going to be any different from my previous encounters.

He didn't actually penetrate me that night, though we did spend a fair amount of time grinding in his Jacuzzi. He told me later that he was nervous about being with me since he didn't know me and that explained why he wasn't able to stay hard enough. It actually didn't bother me too much; he finished in my muzzle and I finished somewhere between his and his paw. That was an honest surprise, because at that point, it was the best head I'd ever gotten even if he didn't have a lot of jaw stamina.

After I came, I was surprised at how caught up I had been in trying to get my rocks off because the moment the haze cleared, I became aware again that he really wasn't particularly attractive. Dick has a tendency to fuck with my head, obviously, but somewhere along the lines I think I expected him to be a lot frailer than he actually was. To be honest, blindfolded, I could have easily mistaken him for someone easily 20 years his junior based on how eager he was.

Anyway. Because it was one of the first hookups I ever had off that site, I hadn't refined my post-fucking etiquette which explains why I honestly told him I had no problems seeing him again in the future. I wasn't particularly excited to, but I also wasn't opposed to it.

I don't remember when that first time we hooked up was, but the sex steadily got much better. I remember the first time he actually penetrated me (a pleasant surprise while taking a shower... actually. Was technically my shower cherry). I guess once he started getting comfortable around me, he really was able to get into it because I'll honestly say that he's a good lay now.

He's got a pretty good understanding of my body by now though, he knows a lot of my spots in that way that most people attribute to a good lover. We've never bothered with teasing or anything annoying like that; it's always pretty straight forward, but it's always good now. His paws have found a pretty good balance between where he likes to touch me and where he knows I liked to be touched. He knows when to bite here. He knows when to pinch there.

The only real thing that causes any problems is his bum knee which keeps him from being able to put too much stress on it. I'm not even sure if that's really a problem anyway since I like being fucked from behind more than on my back so leaning over the edge of the bed suits me just fine. He's got a good dick for it, though. He's big enough to fill me out without making it too much work to enjoy. And he's both long and thick enough to actually get a full thrust in when he's going at it. Hell, a couple times, he's actually put his weight into his thrusts which was an amazing surprise.

But he's used to the way I am now, too. He stretches me just enough for me to be comfortable, hilts himself just quick enough, and starts fucking me just before I tell him to get started.

It's kind of funny, I guess. It's the closest thing to a normal relationship that I have in my life but it's so far from being one. And I really don't want it to become one. Yeah, the sex is good and I don't mind being around him; hell, if it wasn't for the need to medicate in the mornings, I'm sure I'd be staying nights with him by now. But there's a distinct difference between us. Somewhere along the lines, there's a disconnect between us that keeps us from being more.

He was older than I am now when my mom popped me out. Everything I go through on a day to day basis, he's seen to some extent and he's seen the end of it. He's seen how all the things that irritate me or seem huge end up being relatively meaningless or a smaller part of a big picture a midlife crisis down the road. But as for me? I have no idea what he goes through and I haven't bothered asking because what do I know about what it's like to wonder if you really are where you thought you'd be after 50? To think that maybe the clock's running down and wonder if you've accomplished enough?

And I've never asked, because on some level I really don't give a damn since the problems I'm going through seem to be enough of a headache. But he's never bothered to tell me. He's never bothered to really dig into what's important for me either. It makes sense that he sees it too. The sex may be good and he may be glad to have his younger fling with an endless craving for dick, but he'll never introduce me to his friends, and I wouldn't show him to the few that I have.

So we always part ways the same way--knowing eventually we'll hook up again. Usually at least once a month, but often more. He'll ask me about work and I'll respond half-assedly. I'll ask him the same and he'll do the same. We'll fuck like rabbits, usually more than once. And then I'll head home.

That's what happened tonight and hence I'm here now. But I can't help but smile since he finally caved and fucked me at his kitchen table like I've been bugging him to for a while now. He likes fucking on his bed--and it's comfortable, of course, but I wanted to... more for the sake of pulling him from his comfort zone. He seemed to forget all about it by the time he was hilt deep into my ass with his horns bumping somewhat uncomfortably into my shoulder blades. He seemed to really get into it, actually... it's not often that the warm thrumming feeling lasts even after I get home but I can feel it now while I'm jotting this down.

It was much more amusing when I creamed on his floor and his feral hound licked it up before he could get his bearings together and clean it up.

That's another reason that I remember our relationship is just about the sex and nothing more. I'm not comfortable enough to tell him that I really want to fuck his feral--which would be a huge no-no, I'm positive. But if he has his kinks, he hasn't shared them with me either.

On that note, I need to go rub one out and go to bed so I can get up for work in the morning; he brought his A game tonight and I'm still turned on by it.