The night was getting chilly and my suit jacket offered little protection from the wind. I quickened my pace back to my decrepit hotel room. I had been wandering the city for two hours since my arrival. Just wandering around the streets, rather deserted at 10 pm on a Monday evening. The only point of interest in this city so far, had been a young handsome, black guy that I had found myself walking along with in the same direction.
My glances were noticed and invoked a sarcastic, "Ya see sometin ya like?"
"Maybe," I responded. "Hope you don't mind my saying so, but you are a very handsome guy."
He suddenly stopped and looked down a dark alley we were passing. I stopped too. I was suddenly jazzed by adrenaline at the thought of some danger that might be springing out of the alley, --or sudden attack by this young guy that I might have offended. But he just slowly walked down the alley, turned back looking at me, with a beaconing nod of his head. He walked only a few steps and stopped and peered --apprehensively I thought --down the dark alley.
I walked up to him, put on a smile, and said, "Getting real cold! Good to get out of that wind for a minute."
"Yeh man, I warm ya up" he says, as he moved behind me, put an arm around my belly, and started to hump my butt.
I worked my hand between us; and, My God! was he up and hard already! This was exciting, of course; but the situation was just too fraught with danger. He could have his hand on my wallet or a blade in my back in a moment. I fondled his joy-stick for a moment longer; then quickly broke away to the lighted street, and quick- stepped back to my hotel.
My room was little more that a closet, consisting of a single bed with some large pillows against the wall, a small dresser and straight-back chair, and toilet in full view of the open bathroom door. The room was half the cost of the room reserved by my company's travel office, and for which I would get fully reimbursed. I regularly changed to the cheapest room I could get, not only because my wallet sorely needed the change, but I didn't need a fancy room just for sleeping. Attending this two day convention was like a paid vacation for me, just to get away from the hum-drum routine and to explore and hunt a bit. I wasn't ready for the sack yet; and wondered if the bar might hold some adventure.
Bars are not my thing. I don't feel comfortable in bars. This bar was almost deserted. A few people were in one or two booths, but the long bar was completely empty. I like to people-watch and imagine all sorts of backgrounds for them, or encounters I would like with them. I'm also aware that people can see right through me, especially bar tenders. And here I was at an empty bar; too damn self-conscious to enjoy my drink, or bird-watching. And you know what? So many of us are the same; and would like to break through our shells to others!
Then this guy came in and sat down at the bar, one seat away from me. He was just an average looking guy, mid-twenties, maybe a couple of years younger than me. We looked at each other. I smiled and made small talk about the chilly night. He smiled back and made noises that I could not hear. I put a hand to cup my ear, --and moved over a seat next to him.
Maybe I was learning to be more forward (or brazen) and more trusting and with more feeling for others. Here was a person as open for chit-chat, or company, as I was. We quickly got into deep talk about life and meeting and trusting people. My drink was long finished and my buddy's beer was mere foam.
I had to stretch a bit and said how much I'd like to continue chatting --but not here.
"I have a bottle of scotch up in my room. Maybe we could have a night-cap up there?"
"Sure, why not. I enjoy chatting with you too," he replied.
The guy (I never did get even his first name) was attending the same convention so we had things in common besides our evident aloneness. We slouched lazily across the bed, propped against the wall, and slowly slurped our Scotch and slurred our slowing, but increasingly philosophical, speech. Our talk turned to our religious up-bringing (he, Roman and I, Anglican) and its increasing irrelevancy as we graduated to richer understandings of life. Of course, we had removed suit jackets and ties when we arrived at my room. Now we had rolled up our sleeves a turn or two, loosened a couple of buttons, and slouched, side by warm side, with entwined arms, hands clasped in friendship, and fingers writhing gently in warm affection.
I just had to pee! I purposely left the bath room door open, knowing I was in full view, whipped out my dick, pumped a bit to get going, noisily raised a frothy foam, then continued for much too long, milking the last few drops --as my dick raised his head in anticipation of coming events. As I returned, my buddy allowed as how he, too, needed relief; and proceeded to give me an equally good show!
As my buddy returned to our slouched and warm closeness, I felt invited to explore more and more. Wordlessly, he assisted as I removed his shirt. I pulled up his well-tucked-in tee-shirt and ran my hand up under and caressed his chest and nipples.
He "umm-ed," and said, "That's so nice."
I suspected and so asked, "Is this your first time with a man?"
"This is my first time with anyone. The first time with anyone, anytime, who has shown me any real affection," he returned.
"Well, relax and let me show my feelings for you. You are a really fine person."
That was the prelude to a half-hour of the most heart and soul warming, yet slow and gentle, man-to-man love-making I had ever experienced. I wanted so much to express my love; express my real appreciation for this person who trusted and welcomed my desire to know him and be close to him. I knew nothing would ever come of this fling. We were in a brief encounter, a one-night stand --if that long. But I wanted to give this very nice person the best possible introduction to sex that his upbringing had so denied him.
My buddy showed great appreciation. Assisting as I undid buttons and zipper. He 'Oh-ed' and 'Ah-ed' at all the right moments, as I experimented with every possible way to give pleasure to this person. His every feature was a treasure to explore. His manly smell became intoxicating. The texture of his skin was so nice and smooth. His crinkly pubes tickled lips and nose. His wrinkled balls had to be explored over and over as they churned a bit on their own. His groans gave me continued reward. Michaelangelo could not have chiseled a more beautiful cock: goodly sized with generous smooth head which gleamed tight when gently skinned back. Oh so sweet to the tongue tip as pearl drops appeared. And so many ways to work tongue and lips as it swelled to full glory and pulsed in anticipation. Sized just right to ply its way past vocal cords that were delighted in humming the goodness out of it. I would have been content to continue for another hour. But glands had been stirring and pressures building and all of nature working to climactic reward.
The sudden, inevitable hardening signaled coming events. Squeezing of knockers, quickening of bobbing, and more suction -- came to me naturally! The Holy Event us upon us!
My buddy went rigid and yelled "Stop! I'm gonna cum!"
I continued, almost frantically, and held him down with my right arm across his mid-section, as I worked full magic below. `This is great!' I'm thinking, 'I want to take it completely', as I hung on the cliff of anticipation.
"No! Stop! I'm cumming!" he shouted, and then immediately convulsed in orgasmic release.
I received his blessed blast as a sacred communion. How excellent it was --his gift to me --so nice in taste and texture. So much treasure to be slowly swirled for tasting pleasure and slowly swallowed as a soul food. Always before, I had hastened to spit. Now, on this occasion, his gift was sacred nourishment for my soul. Unfortunately, my moment of bliss ended immediately --and tragically!
"I told you to stop!" he shouted and jumped up. He was shaking with emotion. "You didn't stop! You sucked my seed out! Is that all you wanted!? All your words and high thoughts and that's what you wanted?"
The tears where flowing down his distraught face. He struggled and fumbled to get his clothes in order and buttoned --not very successfully.
I watched this drama in shock. I feared his outburst could be heard in adjoining rooms. And what if he got violent with me? My instinct told me to say not a word and maybe he would leave quickly.
He grabbed his suit jacket and top coat and ran to the door, yanked it open, hurried out, and slammed the door behind him. Whew! I made sure the door was locked. Hey now, I was shaking! That was a bad scene. How quickly the event had gone from bliss to bluster.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Someone was banging on my door. Oh God! What now? Better answer it. Might be a house cop. Surprise! It was distraught buddy again.
"You have my glasses! I want my glasses!" He rushed by me, grabbed his glasses from the bureau top where he had put them, rushed by me again and out the door.
He was slamming the door shut as I called out, "Pax Vobiscum" [Peace be with you.], but I don't think he heard me.
Now, how does a guy sleep after such a drama? What a guilt reaction! How would my buddy be able to live with himself until he could find a confessor? I had obviously, and grievously, misjudged his degree of graduation in life. Yet, I had achieved, gratifyingly, a higher degree of understanding myself.
The Hunter had snared his Bird, --and savored his First Swallow.
The adjacent elevator whined its motors and clanged its doors all night. That's why the room was so cheap.
[The author welcomes your comments on this true story.] [Piner at pinerb@verizon.net]