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SHORT SHORTS
His ass looked spectacular . . . two perfect globes, smooth and round . . . the peach emoji in the flesh. They swelled out over his long, muscular legs like generous scoops of gelato overflowing their cones.
The two globes flexed temptingly as he walked past the check-in desk towards the elevators. I was ten feet behind, with a magnificent view. There was the slightest hint of a jiggle as they flexed . . . I could imagine them in my hands . . . firm, muscular, just a bit of `give' . . . perfect to grab and hold onto.
His ass would have looked great on any guy, wearing anything . . . but on this guy . . . and in those shorts . . . obscene.
The shorts were gleaming white and very short, and they clung to his curves . . . snug at his narrow waist, snug across his swelling glutes, snug around his thick thighs, extending hardly an inch past the bottom curve of his asscheeks. The bare flesh below the shorts was a delicious caramel, the `caf con leche' of Latin America.
His shirt was an elegantly casual mesh, tantalizing me with glimpses of his smooth brown back and broad shoulders. His biceps stretched the short sleeves tight.
Miami is full of hot Latinos, but this guy . . . wow.
Despite his muscles he moved gracefully, as though at any moment he might start dancing across the hotel lobby. The small leather bag that hung from his wrist swayed in time with his stride.
I caught up with him at the elevator, and as we waited, I snuck a peek at his face.
He was shockingly handsome . . . movie star handsome, male model handsome . . . with perfectly proportioned features, artfully styled black hair and curated stubble. He was out of my league, no question, even though we pretty obviously like to play the same sport.
His eyes were green, so bright in his tanned face they seemed to shine with their own light. As I stared, mesmerized, the shining green swiveled towards me . . . looked right at me.
He smiled.
His perfect teeth gleamed, framed by full lips that made me think of ripe fruit.
"Hello."
His voice was a perfect match for his face and body . . . low and warm, with a noticeable accent.
"Hi! . . . Uh . . . Hi. I was . . . uh . . . admiring your shorts."
His smile deepened, and his eyes looked . . . amused?
"You like my shorts?"
"Uh . . . oh yeah! They look fantastic."
"You think they are too tight?"
"No! No, they're . . . perfect."
He leaned towards me, inviting me into a secret.
"They are really too tight. I can't wait to take them off."
He paused a moment, letting that mental image sink in. Then he winked, and the smile curved even deeper.
"You want to help me take them off?"
He eyed me playfully throughout the elevator ride, behaving himself for the security cameras. We traded names but otherwise rode in silence . . . stunned silence on my part. I mean, I think I'm a good-looking guy, and my dick is a lot bigger than average, and my body is in good shape for my age . . . but THIS guy was gorgeous at a level I had only ever lusted after from afar.
Up in Joao's hotel room his shorts came off easily enough without my assistance . . . and so did everything else he was wearing.
He made a little show of it, swiveling his hips as he drew the mesh shirt slowly up, letting his beautifully sculpted abs come into view, then his pecs . . . two succulent melons . . . each jutting nipple like a brandied cherry on a dollop of chocolate sauce.
Once he was bare-chested, he smiled mischievously and made a show of peeling off the white shorts, turning around at a strategic moment so I could see those two brown globes come into view. They were lightly wrapped . . . barely contained . . . in skimpy, silky, see-through white bikini briefs. Then the briefs slid down, and I had an unobstructed view of the most extraordinary ass I had ever seen in my life . . . smooth, delectable caramel curves, close enough to touch.
My mouth was literally watering as I fumbled out of my clothes.
When Joao turned back around, I saw the one unremarkable thing about him . . . but it was hard, and it had a tasty-looking foreskin, and I didn't give a flying fuck how big it wasn't.
His smile broadened, like he knew what I was thinking, had seen that look a hundred times before, and didn't give a flying fuck either.
He sauntered towards me, moving like there was a dance beat in his head.
He pulled me into a kiss . . . a meltingly wonderful kiss, made even more wonderful by the feel of his smooth muscles pressing against my naked body. His tongue explored my mouth as his hands explored my skin, stroking and caressing and gently squeezing.
He broke the kiss and dropped smoothly to his knees, engulfing my cock in his hot mouth. The suction of his lips, the way his tongue stroked the head and then the shaft, the way my cock sank deeper and deeper down his throat . . . he had me close to blowing in no time.
Maybe he sensed it, because he pulled off my cock, smiled at me, and playfully leapt . . . backward! . . . onto the king-sized bed, bouncing on the bedspread. He spread his legs, settled a pillow under his head, and pulled his knees back till they nearly touched his shoulders. The perfect brown globes parted, and a raspberry pink hole winked up at me. He tossed me a bottle of lube.
My mouth went dry.
"Uh . . . do you have condoms?"
His smile twisted.
"Yes, on the table by the bed, if that's what you want. But I want you bare."
"That would be great! Uh . . . just be aware I'm poz undetectable . . . on meds, tested regularly."
He smiled.
"And I am on PreP, and I want your milk in my ass."
I knelt on the bed, just looking at his pink hole. I brushed a finger across it, and it tightened, then flared open. I got my face close to it, breathing in his delicious funk. God, he even smelled perfect.
I dove in, tonguing his hole and slurping at the flesh around it. He moaned and grunted and urged me on, his ass undulating as I ate him out.
I grabbed the lube and slicked up his hole and my cock. I slid into him like a sword into a sheath . . . no resistance, perfect fit.
Joao gave a long throaty groan and pulled my body against his, grinding his ass onto my cock, pushing me in as deep as I could go.
I started rocking my hips, loving the way his hole gripped my cock, smooth as custard . . . loving the heat inside his oven.
I fucked and fucked him, making my movements bigger and more forceful till I was pistoning in and out, pounding the shit out of his perfect ass. I could feel my pelvis bouncing off his cheeks with every stroke. It felt delicious . . . incredibly hot!
I curled my head down and latched onto one of his huge nipples, sucking on it like I wanted his milk as badly as he wanted mine. I sucked and nibbled, shifting from tit to tit as he moaned louder and grabbed my head, mashing my face against his voluptuous pecs.
He pulled me into a kiss, and I slowed my fucking as I concentrated on the taste of his lips and tongue in my mouth, the warmth of his chest against my chest, his legs wrapped around me, drawing me close.
His body was so smooth in my arms, sweaty, his flesh so firm . . . I felt myself getting close, and I slowed my pace, savoring the fuck . . . but all too soon I was back to pounding, and before I knew it, I was gasping and blowing my load. I could feel my cock pulsing as it spewed shot after shot after shot of hot `milk' deep inside him.
I collapsed on top of him, panting. Joao hugged me, one hand resting on the back of my head, the other drifting lazily up and down my back, occasionally caressing my butt. We lay like that a long time, till I had caught my breath, and my sweaty skin was starting to feel chilled in the air conditioning.
Joao gave me a squeeze and rolled me onto my side. He stared straight into my eyes, smiling.
"That was wonderful . . . thank you!"
Another squeeze.
"Now . . . my apologies . . . I must kick you out. I have a client coming in half an hour, and I need to get ready."
Then he laughed.
"Of course, he will not be on time! He is a big hip hop producer . . . much too important to be on time. But he tips well."
He winked at me.
"And he tips extra well when I am already filled . . . `pre-loaded' I think he says . . . so thank you. I thought I would need to get milk from a room-service waiter. This was much nicer!"
He gave me a lingering kiss, then stared deep into my eyes again. His eyes were so green, and so beautiful, and so expressive . . . they seemed to be sending me a message . . . warm appreciation, mixed with ironic amusement.
I realized I'd just been . . . what?
Used? Taken advantage of?
And by a . . . whore' was definitely not the right word, but sex worker' seemed too clinical . . .
Fuck it . . . didn't matter.
I didn't feel used. I felt pampered.
I think, in fact, that I felt a little surge of pride that someone who could charge for sex had chosen not to . . . had chosen to seduce me.
I couldn't think of anything to say, but it didn't seem to matter. It felt good just to lie there, silently, staring into those beautiful eyes.
Eventually we did get moving. I dressed as he straightened up the room. He slipped the sheer white briefs back on, but otherwise he stayed naked. His ass, crme-injected, looked as stunning as ever.
When I was ready to go, he hugged me, kissed me on the lips, and said,
"That was marvelous. I don't have the opportunity to do that very often. I am very grateful."
"Are you kidding? That was fucking fantastic! I've never done it with a guy as gorgeous as you."
He opened the door, and I stepped into the hallway.
He lingered in the doorway, looking at me.
I lingered in the hallway, looking at him.
There was something sweet and sexy about our standing there, like neither of us actually wanted to say goodbye.
(Or was that just the bikini briefs and my overactive imagination, and Joao was politely waiting for me to get lost before his big tipper showed up?)
Like he'd read my mind, Joao reached out and grabbed my hand.
His smile seemed almost . . . shy?
"Can I have your number? I get back to Miami often, and I want to see you again."
"Yes!! Oh . . . wait . . . I live in Atlanta."
His smile broadened.
"I get back to Atlanta, too."
Fuck YES!