Leather Skin Biker

I had met this guy from Rhode Island online who seemed interesting. He was into boots, leather, role play, and me and my slave. He was going to be in Chicago on business, and invited me and my boy to have dinner. I thought that was a good idea, so we made a plan to get together for dinner. We met at the Fireside restaurant in the Ravenswood neighborhood in Chicago. That place has a nice outdoor “tented” dining area in back, which is used year round.

Me and my boy arrived first, got a table, and ordered something to drink. The Rhode Island guy, to whom I will refer as “Rhode Island Pig,” or “RIP,” arrived shortly thereafter. He was as he appeared in his photos. He was of average build, about 5 feet 9 inches tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and bearded. He had short, but not cropped hair. He wore jeans, a black T-shirt, and black harness boots. I found him mildly attractive, and not unpleasant. He was an academic and had that air about him, which is fine. He was bright, which is always a plus, and seemed nice enough. We had a nice dinner, and afterward decided to go to the Eagle for a drink.

Since he had taken a cab, he rode with us to the Eagle. He had his luggage with him, as he was going to stay at a hotel near O’Hare overnight, and catch an early flight in the morning. At the Eagle we ran into some friends who often host me and my boy for dinner, as well as for various parties held at their home. boy mick was also there that night. It was a good night, and I introduced our out of town visitor to my friends. One of my friends, the one who was half of the dinner hosting couple, was suspect about RIP. This friend is often very blunt with his commentary, which is a quality I admire. And that night was no exception. He said that RIP seemed stuffy and boring, and wanted to know why did I have dinner with him. I then asked my friend to tell me how he really feels. (By way of back story, this “friend” had once wanted to be my slave, and we had played once or twice.)

So I added my friend’s assessment to that of my slave’s, who had decided he didn’t like RIP. My slave believed that RIP had designs on me, and little interest in him. That was quite possible. Sometimes that set of circumstances amused me, but irritated my slave. If he was interested in me, it was all for naught, because I already had a slave, and wasn’t at that time entertaining the idea of adding a second slave to the household. In any event, after a while me and my boy gravitated to the back bar and the back room at the Eagle. It was a Friday night and the place was fairly busy.

Me and my slave managed to squeeze into the backroom. It was very warm and humid in there, with hot bodies pressed up against other hot bodies in the dim, muggy compartment. All around us there were sub boys on their knees servicing men. We navigated our way to one of the walls, on which I leaned comfortably, legs spread, zipper open, cock out. I had my slave go down on me while I surveyed the goings on around us. After a very short time, I saw my new best friend RIP. Considering that we had just had dinner together, and that we’d been corresponding for weeks, I thought it would be good to find out what kind of cocksucker he was. He was close enough to me that I could reach out and push him to his knees.

It was easy to get him down there on the floor. It seemed very natural for him, and that pleased me. So I pulled my boy off my cock, and put RIP on it. He gave okay head, but I had to stop him a couple of times because he was giving me teeth. Bad form, in this case. He may have been good at getting himself published, but giving head, not so much. I guess men can’t be good at everything. Meanwhile, I noticed that my boy had found a tall shaved head dom to service. The shaved head dom was kind of hot looking, and I saw my boy sucking him. It turned me on, and it made me thrust in to RIP’s throat that much harder. Without warning or any signal from me, RIP pulled off and moved over on his knees in front of the shaved head dom my slave was servicing. That fag was trying to get a taste of the shaved head dom’s cock, and the fact that my slave was sucking on it mattered not.

This had all kinds of implications, especially for my slave. Basically, RIP had pushed my slave out of the way to suck shaved head dom’s cock. What the fuck was that? An effort to endear himself to my slave? It was no big loss to me, since instead of great head I was getting teeth. But it just seemed really un-cool considering we just had dinner with the guy. My slave was back on his feet almost instantly and was furious. He asked me if we could go back out to the front bar. I told him, of course we could. So that’s where we left RIP, sucking shaved head dom’s cock. In time, he would come up for air and find us out in the front bar.

From there things could only go downhill. My slave made a point of not talking to him or looking at him. At one point RIP was standing right next to my slave, my slave was ignoring him, and at the same time talking about what a jerk RIP was to another one of our friends. I have to admit that I found it kind of amusing, but clearly I had to do something. I couldn’t let this continue. I decided that we needed to go, and put an end to this situation. I had committed to giving RIP a ride to the blue line, and I was not going to blow him off. My slave considered RIP’s offense to be much greater than I. So we grabbed our jackets from the coat check and headed out.

It was an awkward ride south on Lake Shore Drive. RIP made conversation with me on the way to the train, but my slave said nothing. RIP thanked me for getting together for dinner and for the ride. With that he hopped out, grabbed his bag out of the trunk, and disappeared down the stairs leading to the subway platform. Me and my slave had a post mortem in the car as I drove us home, which took no more than 10 minutes. Once we got home, I fucked my slave, which seemed to help him forget about RIP. I heard from RIP again, and he seemed oblivious to the fact that he had offended my slave, or else chose not to discuss it. This is no revelation, but just goes to show that with Internet “dates” sometimes the outcome can be good, but sometimes it can be a waste of time.

This entry was posted on Thursday, June 5th, 2008 at 6:38 am and is filed under Backrooms, Fucking, Groups, Sucking, Unwrapped.