My regulars had conflicting schedules, so I decided to get on Grindr to see who was around, once again wishing that Blendr worked as well as Grindr. Before too long I started chatting with a guy visiting Vienna. He was cute and wanted to bottom. After exchanging more pictures I sent him my location and started looking through my music to figure out what would be on the playlist this time.
Not quite sure what I wanted to hear, it took me longer than usual to put the list together. I knew time was growing short, so I hastily finished compiling the list, knowing I could at least have the music playing before he got to my place since he still had to buzz downstairs before coming up to my flat.
And then the doorbell rang—the one at my front door, not the one downstairs. The damn construction workers must have left the door unlocked again, I thought to myself as I quickly hit play and went to answer the door, grumbling to myself that the guy must have heard me start the music.
The guy had said that he was really horny and wanted to skip the small talk. Since I was at least just as horny, I was also amenable to getting right down to business. I let him into the flat, showed him where he could leave his coat and shoes, and told him I’d wait for him in the room, already starting to strip off my shirt as I walked away. By the time he traipsed into the room a few moments later, I was already naked, my hand playing with my cock.
“Get me hard and you can jump on for a ride,” I said as he hungrily eyed my cock, sitting on the edge of the bed and slipping his hand between my legs, cupping my balls in his soft hands. When my cock was semi-hard he turned and flopped onto his stomach, grinding his ass in the air slightly as he used his eyes to indicate that I should straddle him.
I put one knee on either side of him and played with his ass, teasing him as I slid my dick along the upper part of his crack. I let the music guide my own gyrations, and soon enough my cock was hard.
“One sec while I put on a condom, “ I said as I reached to the small table beside the bed to grab a wrapper. Ripping it open, I pulled out the condom and rolled it on my cock with one hand as I reached for the lube with the other. He glanced around and saw me preparing to slowly stick my dick inside his tight ass, reaching around with one hand to grab my cock, his gaze relaxing when his fingers felt the condom.
That’s odd, I thought, I told him I was putting it on and the music wasn’t loud enough to cover the sound of the wrapper. But with that nice butt staring up at me, I barely gave it a second thought. My cock dipped in slightly before I pulled it out only to insert it again, this time a little deeper. He didn’t moan, but from the way that he began to work his body in rhythm with mine, I could tell he was enjoying it and that I was being gentle enough to let him relax into my dick.
A few times I said something to him as our dance progressed, my body changing to suit whatever song was playing in that instant. But not once did he respond. In fact, he didn’t even give any indication that he had heard. Not being a big talker during sex myself, I didn’t think too much about him not responding. But there was something unusual about him not even acknowledging that I had said something.
As I held onto his hips to thrust deeper inside of him once we had passed the point where I no longer had to be as gentle as in the beginning, I realized that his rhythm was not the same as mine. The music played and I chose a beat to follow without even thinking about it, but he never followed my lead, choosing instead to follow some other rhythm, almost as if he were listening to a different song.
At first I brushed it off because not everyone fucks to the music like I do, but then it became apparent that he was hearing the same song; but no matter what song was playing, he always followed the base.
As I pulled his hips toward me while continuing to fuck him from behind, sweat glistening on his back and starting to roll down my chest, it dawned on me. Immediately I had images of T.C. Boyle’s Talk Talk in my head, of the first time that Bridger saw Dana dancing in the club, her back as close to the speakers as possible, barefoot as she danced to the beat she could feel since she couldn’t hear the rest. Like Dana in the story, I was pretty sure this guy was deaf.
But I wasn’t about to stop in the middle of sex to confirm it.
Instead, I adjusted to the bass, glad that I had readjusted the settings of the speakers to increase the bass just a few days before. And just like that our bodies were in sync. As the song changed I pulled out and flipped him over onto his back, pulling his right leg over my left shoulder, bracing myself with my left hand on the bed and my right hand on his left shoulder as I pushed my cock inside of him again, grinning at the look of pleasure it brought to his face.
Our panting increased as I fucked him harder, pulling out until just the tip of my dick was inside of him before submersing my shaft inside his ass again. The bass beat was slower than the beat I would have otherwise picked, but I kept my thrusts in time with the bass nevertheless, slow but hard, 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8… repeat.
And then came the point where the music didn’t matter, when I was close and needed to pound his ass, moaning as I felt cum burst out of my cock. Pulling off the condom I fell on the bed beside him to catch my breath.
Once my heartbeat had slowed I sat up, running my fingers through my hair with a grin from ear to ear. “You want to take a shower?” I asked, and his eyebrows crinkled in confusion. I repeated the question, this time speaking slowly and making sure my lips were facing him. He still didn’t seem to understand and said something, but the words were less than a whisper; this time it was my turn to look confused. Rather than repeat the question I opted to stand up and mime a shower. He shook his head and said something, again in a voice quieter than a whisper.
He didn’t seem to want a shower, so I headed out of the room and grabbed a hand towel to give him. He cleaned himself off and picked up his discarded clothing, and I took a moment to collect mine as well, only slipping into my boxer briefs since I intended to shower after he was gone. Dressed, he headed to the entry to put on his boots and winter coat. I waited until he had turned to face me and then slowly said that I had had a good time, making sure to enunciate my words so that he had an easier time reading my lips. But he didn’t seem to understand what I had said, and I found myself wishing I knew sign language—or that I at least knew which language he could lip-read better.
He smiled at me but said nothing, and I moved to open the door for him. As he stepped out of the door his fingers slid over my underwear and he winked at me before heading to the lift. Smiling to myself, I closed the door behind him and went to take a shower.