Brain vs. Body, Workout Buddies, and Muscles

As I age, I'm fully aware of the effect that the years have on a body.  Joints creak, muscles fade, extra padding accumulates in way too many areas.  I struggle with the battle between knowing that some of this is a part of the process, and being just vain enough that it bothers me.  The extra weight I'm currently carrying, the grey sneaking in (ok, it really isn't sneaking, more barging through the door with a bunch of friends) to my hair, the hair sprouting from my eyebrows, ears and back...I guess the outward signs of aging bother me more than the knowledge that it's happening.

I feel youthful and vibrant in my brain.  My body sometimes doesn't get that message, and tires out easily or doesn't react very quickly to what I want it to do.  But I learn more and more what all the older people told me all along...I don't "feel" over 50.  My brain doesn't realize it, save for the experiences and knowledge that it holds that is SO much greater than when I was 20, 30, or even 40.  So I have to figure out how my "young" brain can comprehend this aging body.

The self-analyst in me wonders if that's part of my lust for youth.  I don't get to do it often, but to hook up with a young, nubile, thin to muscular younger man, or a very fit mid 30s bodybuilder (that only happened once, but it was SOOO hot), I can't stop desiring to look, smell, taste, and feel that body next to mine.  Run my hands along a thin waist, feel some definition in the shoulders and back, grab onto that nice tight ass...is it me reliving my youth, when things were more where they were supposed to be?  Or is is more simple, an appreciation for the male form, and enjoying what it has to offer?

What I'm finding is how difficult it is once you're out of shape, to get back to where you should be.  After I recover from our big family event, I'm going to get going.  Treadmill, jogging and walking, hoping for a few weights (I'm smart enough to know that's what helps burn the fat) and while I haven't been over indulging, watching more closely what goes into my mouth.  Maybe I need my friend BlkJack (http://blkjack-blkjack.blogspot.com/) to come whip my slightly flabby ass into shape.  Motivation and a workout buddy would do wonders for me.  Any local takers?

In reference to the note above...and I know you're wanting to hear that story...I was on one of my Chicago business trips.  As usual, perusing the A4A, Manhunt, and Craigslist.  I don't recall if I placed an ad this time, or if I answered another.  Regardless, I found myself talking to a mid-30s guy, who claimed to be very muscular and fit.  I've been burned often enough to not get my hopes up for that, but he was engaging enough, and we clicked with what we were looking for, so the invitation was offered to come to my hotel on Michigan.

We made arrangements to meet in the lobby at 10pm.  At 10:15, I had sent a quick note and was figuring it was yet another time that I was set up as part of a game.  (I never understand that game, how someone can get off on leading a guy on, then not showing.  But that's a story for another post.)  I did get a response, something something running late, so with nothing better to do, I waited.  Another email, another running late response, sorry, will be there soon.

At about 10:45, he did arrive.  And, holy shit, he was as advertised.  6 foot 1 inch of worked out, tanned muscle.  Big, wide smile, short cropped black hair, and well dressed, making me feel self conscious in my Hawkeye baggy shorts and old t-shirt.  No problem, though, and after exchanging a couple pleasantries, we headed up to my room.

We wasted no time in getting out of the clothes, me staring at him the whole time, taking in the beauty of that body.  And if it wasn't unfair enough, a nice thick 8" slab of meat looking up at me.  He was confident without being overconfident, cocky without the annoyance of bragging.  He knew he was hot, and for some reason, was crawling into bed with me.

What stuck me, as we were talking, making out, and feeling the magnificent musculature he possessed, I asked him why.  Why, when it appeared he could have so many younger, more fit, and better looking guys than me, did he come here?  He said he loved the "beefy Iowa farm boys", that we were so much fun in bed...

Well, that certainly changed some of my perceptions.  About attraction, stereotypes, and more.  But mostly, it challenged me to live up to the hype.  So I devoured his cock hungrily, chewed his nipples with fervor, licked up and down each and every one of those abs.  He returned the favor (minus the fluff covered abs), and readied me to be fucked.  Ass up on a pillow, he crawled on top of me, and gently eased his dick into me as he kissed me deeply.  God, I love kissing, and especially while I have a cock in me.  Slowly at first, knowing I had to adjust, then harder he pumped, and this time I took it as a compliment that within a couple minutes, he was emptying his balls.  I wanted it to last longer, but it was so hot...it was incredible.

And, too add even more to the mix, he rolled off and laid by me, arm across my chest, and we talked.  For a half hour or so, discussing his travels across I-80, his love of small towns (hey, I live in one!), and my experiences in the big city.  No better end to a fervent fuck than to decompress with a great conversation.  It was one of the better hook up experiences I've had.

As most hook ups go, thought, he soon disappeared into the dim light of the hallway, never to be heard from again.  I long to duplicate that experience, and probably, that's what drives me to keep looking.  How many bad ones can I endure between the greats?  Hopefully I'll find enough good ones to never know the answer.