A Theory Proven

One of my regular fbs John wanted to have a late night session as he messaged me at around midnight, asking if I was around and free to have some fun. Of course being the horn bag that I am, I said yes and hopped in the shower and got ready.

Just as I was getting groomed, I called and booked a cab. I could have easily driven, but John lives in an okay part of a still sleazy neighborhood and I didn't really want to have anything to do with car vandals. Grabbing my stuff and keys, I headed out the front door.

There was a cab letting out two passengers who have just clearly paid for their fare. I thought that was booked cab so I waited and once the passengers alighted, I got in.

Bingo. The cabbie was a young cutie.

He greeted me politely and asked me my destination and I gave it to him, after which he made some small talk, as cabbies tend to do. I told him I'm on my way to a friend's house for a late night party. Keeping it generic. Oh good for you, lucky you can party and not have to work like me, he said. I replied that I was sure when he gets his time off he has time to spend it with whoever he wants to.

"Who me? Who would want to have a party with me? I don't even have a girlfriend with the odd hours I keep," he volunteered.

I cocked a sideways glance at him. Clearly I knew what the next question was going to be.

"Do you have a girlfriend you party with?" he continued prodding.

"Nope, I am gay. And the guy whose house I am going to tonight, is with whom I hang around with when I want to have fun," I added. It was clear that fun and party after midnight didn't mean dinner and laughter.

He didn't seem shocked. I don't think anything shock taxi drivers anymore nowadays. He drove in silence but there was a side smile to his face that I could see in the mirror. I have never picked a taxi driver before, so I didn't know what the protocol is here. Clearly he was interested but respective, so was I expected to make the first move? But what about John?

"Where you from?" I asked.

"Iran," he replied. Hmmmm, nice dark hair with just the hint of a growing goatee about to run amock. He was in his early 30s and by the ripple of his thick forearms the color of mocha that gripped the steering wheel, I knew that he was supple and fit underneath his clothes. He asked me what part of Asia I was as he drove and I informed him, and his standard reply was "Oh that's nice, I have many friends from your country and they are all fun." Well I'm glad we're all getting along well with each other multiculturally, aren't we, I thought. I wonder if fun for him was generic or should my evil mind read more into it.

We reached my destination and I paid him and he took his time finishing the transaction and giving me a receipt, at which he deliberately brushed his hand on mine and kept a distinct eye contact. I gave him my best after midnight moonlight smile and wondered if he can see how dilated my eyes were in the half dim of the cab which indicated that he aroused my interest and that I wanted to return his sexual vibe. For half a second we both smiled back at each other, both doing nothing, just sitting in the cab, and looking at each other in the eyes.

Then my phone buzzed in my jeans pocket with a text from John saying "Where ru now?" That snapped me out of my reverie and I reluctantly opened my side of the door and stepped out, but not after thanking cabbie boy profusely. He said "No problem and have a great night." John's buzzer wasn't working so I had to call him inorder for him to pick me up from downstairs. As I fished my phone out of my jeans and started to scroll to his number, I noticed the cute cabbie was still there, and still staring at me through his window. I wondered if John would like a three way? I smiled at the cabbie and waved, to indicate I was alright and that my friend would be coming any minute now. Maybe he was hoping that the party was off and I needed a ride back home?

By the time John got downstairs, the cab had driven off. I told him the anecdote of the interested cab driver, and he said I should have invited him up. Anyway, John and I have been fb for a long time now so we went into our usual routine, which was socialize with house drinks first, kiss, suck, fuck and then he would fall asleep and I would quitely let myself out of his apartment while he was still in slumber. Nothing that night deviated from it.

As I left John's apartment, two hours and one orgasm (his) later, I still felt a nigging in my stomach. The cab driver incident woke up something in me that night. Lust is in the air so surely, there must be other wolves out hunting at 3 am? So I flicked open my iPhone and tapped online and surely enough, a fish caught the bait not even a minute after.

I have found that hook ups that happen between the hours of midnight and dawn are the most successful and usually the least to flake, because of obvious reasons - guys are horny and need to get off - now!

It turned out the new guy, Joe lived in the same street as John. Just a couple of doors up. Freaky. Joe was, in one word a hunk! Actually make that an uber hunk. He looks like Boris Kodjoe (google him), only he was white. 6'1, 180 lbs, with a footballer's build. And very, very sexy legs. Chunky and muscular. Legs you would pay attention equally as you give him head. Which is exactly what I did five minutes after he showed me into his apartment.

Unfortunately another one of my borrowed theories was proven that night. That very handsome men are lousy fucks. He did fuck me alright with his big 7.5 uncut dick, but truth be told he was an average lover. However the session was more about him, or rather me having to worship the perfection that was him. In short, he was one of those selfish tops, visually adorable but sexually leaving you flat, and dare I say, unsatisfied.

I went home later that morning as dawn broke from Joe's place thinking about the Iranian cab driver. What if I started the night with him? After all average to mid average looking men are the best fucks in life.