Rudy.. first 9/11 and now this

I was in Nyc rhis week, but made it back to dc b4 the snow. One night we left the client's office early and a friend told me he had a ticket he could not use to a political fund raising dinner. Did I want it? Who is it for? Rudy in 08? Well.. it is a free dinner, even though I find him sleezy, but then again. who isn't?

So I, along with my cynicism, made it over to the Sheraton for the Rudy Giuliani fundraiser and campaign event. The lobby was filled with a gaggle of 18 yr old high school students on their way to a bway show. I only spied two future drama queens hehe.. All Southern and pasty white

Speaking of pasty white... the lobby was also filled with silver haired Republicans, most of them with American flags in their lapels. Oh how people love to wear their patriotism and affiliations on their lapels. I, coincidentally had a white shirt with red and blue stripes from Zara, so I sort of fit in with the theme.

My table was a pleasant one, we made chit chat, talked about politics. No mention of Iraq. No mention of the Atty General. No mention of Scooter.

Bingo. I finally spied a nice Asian guy in a navy suit. A little uptight, slightly hot, slightly nerdy, perhaps tasty,

I made my way up to his table before dessert and introduced myself. What brought him here? I will leave that part out.. but we had some laughs, talked about work, the NCAA's. What did I have to lose? I asked, "Hey, didn;t I once see you at a Log Cabin party?"

Silence. He just smiled... I am just toying with you, I added


The party favors were a Rudy baseball cap and plastic cup (tumbler). (Speaking of tumblers, did I mention how their was a whole truckload of firefighters in the ballroom near our table in full firefighting gear)

I said, Look at the firefighters.. Something must be on fire. Defintely not Rudy, but maybe it's you, he said. This time, I was the one who smiled.

Can I be forward?, he asked. Was he going to ask me out?
Can I have you Rudy 2008 baseball cap?
Sure, I replied.. on one condition.
What?
That you also take my plastic Rudy cup and fill it with your tasty liquid lust.
Silence and I smiled.

Sounds hot, he said, but how?

Let's head up to another floor, hit a men's room, and do the deed.
And so, hats in hand, and cups in tow, we zipped out of the main ballroom and figured how to go to an upper floor where there was an unattended quiet men's room. The I unbuckled his belt (Hugo Boss) and pants (not sure of the brand). He was already hard and uncut. I stroked him over his underwear, feeling the outline of his cock from the outside of his shorts.

Hold the cup, I ordered, and I proceeded to quietly lower his underwear as I sat on the toilet seat, and stroke him with my hands and lips. His cock grew warmer from the attention and as a droplet formed on his head, I just stroked unidirectionally, downward, right hand after left had after right hand. As his smooth, mostly smooth, thaighs tightened and he shifted his feet, he bent his knees a little and began to thrust in and out of my hands. He placed the cup into position and POE, filled it with four long streams of creamy love. Not bad. Almost enough for a jigger,.

I took the cup, placed it on the floor, patted him dry with some toilet tissue. He lifted his shirts and pants and buckled his belt.

Mind if I drink from the chalice? I asked.. Be my guest, he replied.
(I didn't.) I washed and dried the cup, he took both cups and hats, and we parted ways

My luck continues at Bookstores

Last weekend, I was browing the stacks at a bookstore near duPont Circle, wasting time, looking at bookcovers, looking up to see if there was any eyecandy. I spied a cute guy looking at a copy of "Mississippi Sissy" by Kevin Sessums (sp.). It is the autobio and partly recreated story of a young man facing life tragedies and his effeminate ways in rural Mississippi in the 1960s and 1970s.

How many Asian guys browse books about sissies? How many cute Asian guys do this? Perhaps I was in luck.

I made my way over to that stack and stood near him, picked out another books, waited to see if he would make eye contact with me. He didn't. Grrrrr.

I would have to be more aggressive. He was engrossed in the book. I spoke up. "How do you like his writing? I think he writes for Vanity Fair?"

"Yeah," it says that on the back cover, he replied.

"It sounds like it is a classic Southern story," I continued, "I think his father died, then his mother died, all before he was a teenager. And his mother supported and cultivated his sissyness."

"Yeah," he replied.

Can I take a hint? Nope. Now it became a game.. a competition. I was going to make him show some interest IN ME, DAMMIT. Maybe just as u can;t take food away from a hungry dog, you can;t distract an avid book reader from his paper-and-ink prey.

"I have to admit," I added, "I really don;t know what differentiate a southern novel from a non-southern one."

His eyes met mine, and he explained, concisely, what the southern genre and the works of Tennesee Williams were like, and what made them 'Southern.'

"Excuse me for prying," I said, but do you have a Mississippi accent?

"No," he said, it's more Georgian and Cajun.

"An Asian Cajun?," I asked. "Would that be a Cajsian?"

"Not quite.," he replied. But a good try.

"So I guess you are not a Mississippi Sissy?," I queried.

"Like I said, I am not from Mississippi," he said smiling.

"Hmmm... I think I will need to process the potentially covert meanings of that reply. If you want to know on which page the author writes about his interesting masturbatory techniques, let me know, I'll be over in Business Books," I said, and then walked to another section.


I wasn't playing hard to get. I was just leaving the door slightly ajar in case he wanted to pursue me.

A few minutes later he appeared in the Business section. "Hey," he said. "Hey," I replied with a big grin. "My name is xxxx", I added. "What page was that?" he asked.
Actually, I told him.. I am not really sure. I only heard about the book and how he discusses his parents' deaths, the murder of his mentor, as well as how he likes to jerk off.

"Hmmph," I replied, "I was curious if there is a way I do not already know about."

"Well," I said, "I am sure you know several ways. There probably isn't too many other ways you probably did not already try. Maybe we should compare notes, some day."

What do they say in RENT?. he asked. Don't they sing that there is 'no day like today'?

"How could I say no to such an endearing Southern accent?," I replied.

"Are you scared to be seen walking around with a southern sissy?" he asked

"Not quite." I said.

To speed the story along... we walked around the hood, got two lattes, and walked some more. He invited me to his place in Adam Morgan. I told him how I like his place. Did he hire a decorator? NO WAY. He did it himself. I liked his colored accent wall.

He looked a little like a member of this boy band. The guy on the left, with a tony bit of delicious love handles.


"Let's compare notes" he said.

What?

"Notes. compare notes. Remember you said we could compare notes."

Oh yeah. I said. But maybe it is better to show each other than just to talk about it.

He pushed me from behind, pushing my shoulder forward into his bedroom. He pushed my down onto his bed, I lied down on my back, and he started to take off my socks, my sweater, and unbuckle my belt. He was one HUNGRY sissy

I began to undress his as well, and soon we were in our underwear. But I am skipping one illuminating moment.

What's that? I asked.
Oh, he said. I wear this for protection.
Are you Mormon?
No, it is Catholic. It is associated with the Virgin Mary.
So in addition to his thin corss that dangled from a light thin chain, he wore an extra sort of waist underwear.
He removed it

Let's compare, I said, but first, I just have to check your chest. It is amazing. And I begin to kiss and caress his chest, and the pic here shoes u what developed.

As he nipps hardened, I looked down his treasure trail, and watched as his cock began to harden as well. Nice. Very nice. I worked my way south.. and reaching his wasit, I slid off his briefs. He slid off my boxers. I was hard and already no longer contacted by and peaking out from the slit opening in my striped boxers


We were both naked, and aroused. Now we could show and tell.
SHow me how you do it I told him.

He was on his back and lifted his knees and spread his thighs and began to stroke up and down with his right hand. I carressed his shaved balls with my fingers and lips as he proceeded.

Okay, I said. Show me another method.

You first, he replied.

So I straddled his torso, and began to stroke with my left hand and then glide along his stomach and chest.

Your turn.

He got on all fours, butt in the air, and stroked with his left hand , and touched his cheeks with his right

Your turn.

Hmm.. do you have a banana skin, I joked.

Instead I borrow one of his pillow and slid myself between the pillow and his comforter making a smooth, butt like, trail that I thrust in and out of.

Nice, he said. Can you do it more like a piston. I tried.. faster and deeper, while he massaged my back and stroked himself

More later...