The Ballgame
I woke to hear the shower. I was in a bed in a hotel room, the sheets rumpled, and the early evening lights coming through the drawn curtains. The shower ended, and from behind the frosted glass emerged a man, older than me. He reached for a towel, and dried his chest and back, then wrapped the towel around his waist.
"Hi," he said, "That was very nice."
He came into the room, towards me, standing over the bed, gray haired and quite handsome. I smiled.
He sat on the edge of the bed, leaned down and kissed me full on the lips. "You are a good lover, Patrick."
We had met earlier that afternoon, at a ball game of all places. I had noticed him walking down the aisle, could not avoid it actually, his full head of gray hair, striking good looks, and tall, slender figure. "Is this number 25?" he asked. I looked at the seat next to me, and nodded yes. Sitting, he extended his hand to shake mine, and introduced himself. "I'm Richard." Taking his hand, I blushed slightly, to his apparent amusement, and told him my name. "Cubs or Giants?" he asked, naming the two teams we were to watch go at it that day. "Cubs," I replied, having followed them since the day I first became aware of them about 20 years ago at age 5. "I'm a Giants fan," he said, "in town for a few days from San Francisco, so I thought I might catch a game here at Wrigley. I've always loved this ballpark."
We talked throughout the game, and towards the end (the Cubs won on a Rizzo homer in the bottom of the 9th inning) I could feel him drawing a little closer to me, and his knee touched mine when he leaned over to talk, and remained there for a little longer than one might expect. I found myself flattered that this older man would pay attention to me, and I thought, "Is he really trying to seduce me?"
That took more shape after the game ended, when he told me he was staying at the hotel across the street from the park, the Hotel Zachary, and asked if I would join him for a drink. I accepted, and we walked across Clark Street, and sat at bar, and ordered. "Gin and tonic for me," he told the bartender, "Patrick?"
"I'll have the same, thanks," I replied.
When the drinks arrived, he held his in a toast, "To baseball, and a new friend." We clinked glasses, and sipped our drinks. Our conversation continued as it had at the ballgame, easy and relaxed. I told him of my life, college and a series of uninteresting jobs since, he of his life in San Francisco, his work, and his travels.
He asked about my girlfriend, and I told him it had been awhile since I had one. "And you?" I inquired.
"I have a partner back home, he's about my age, we've been together for almost 30 years now."
I must have looked a little surprised, and he said, "Yes, I am gay. I thought you might have picked that up at the game." I said no, flustered, and said "That's okay though." Laughing, he said "I am so glad you approve." I fumbled with an apology, and he laughed again, his hand on my shoulder now, and said, "I'm just kidding, it's alright."
I smiled too, relaxing again, and asked about his boyfriend. "We're about the same age, late 60's. He's about my size, but bald, with a gray beard. We have a good time together, and I we have a nice, solid relationship. But we agreed that we could see others too, if we were so inclined. I think that is why we are still together -- we have each other, but we can still sow our oats, so to speak."
He looked at me when he said that, and neither of us spoke for a moment.
"I am so inclined now, with you, Patrick." He put his hand on my leg, and started to move it up my thigh. "Let's go to my room, what do you say?"
My mind reeled a little at the thought that this very nice looking man wanted to sleep with me. I had had a few experiences with men during college, nothing serious, but enjoyable. It had been three or four years though.
He stood, took my elbow and raised me from my seat. We did not say another word, but headed to the elevator. The doors closed on us, alone in the car, and I felt his fingers run along my back, from my neck to my waistline, and I shivered a bit. The door opened, and he led me to his room. Unlocking the door, he ushered me in.
It was a large, nicely appointed room looking directly over at Wrigley Field. There was a sitting room, a few chairs and a couch and coffee table, separated from the bed by a wall with a television. I walked to the window, looked out at the ball park, and turned to face Richard. He took my face in his hands, and kissed me, gently at first, then more insistently. His arms came around me, and he pulled me close. "Mmmm, you kiss well," he said, and kissed me again. By this time I could feel his hardness pressing against me, and I imagine he could feel me as well. Reaching down, he grasped my buttocks and gave them a light squeeze. "Let's take a shower first, get cleaned up, okay?" I nodded, and he took my hand, leading me to the bathroom.
We undressed, watching each other, both clearly aroused. "I have not been with a man in a long time," I said. He told me it was okay, he would take it slow if I wanted, and he'd be gentle. Holding me in his arms again, now both naked, he kissed me, and said "We'll just have fun together, no pressure, no expectations."
We got into the shower together, feeling the warm water running along my body, Richard behind me. I felt his soapy hands on my back, massaging and washing me, then his hands around my chest, lightly across my nipples. I was very turned on by this older man. His hand found its way to my erect cock, and gently stroked it, his lips on my neck, other hand running between my cheeks. He was a skilled lover, and I had all of his attention.
After a few minutes, I turned towards him and said, "Let me clean you now," and he smiled. I soaped my hands, and began to rub his chest, his stomach and then held his cock in my right hand. Looking at him, I saw him smile as I moved my hand back and forth, my other hand cupping his testicles. After a few moments, he kissed me, and then pulled away, taking the shower head to rinse me off. "Okay, you get yourself dried off, and meet me in bed." I did, and lay down, dry and clean now, anticipating him.
Richard came out of the bathroom, himself now dry, and lay beside me. He stroked my cheek, kissed me, and said "Hello there." I said the same, and his arm went around my shoulder, pulling me towards him. He kissed me again, longer, his tongue now in my mouth, exploring. "Do you like that?" I just nodded, my eyes locking on his, and our lips met again.
My hand was on his hip, moving over his skin, so soft and warm, and I felt his leg go over mine, our legs now interwoven.
"Have you ever had a man inside you, Patrick?"
"No, never."
"Well, I would like to be your first. Is that something you'd like too?"
Reaching down, I took hold of his cock, feeling its length and girth. He was large, but not to large, and he was not too thick. I had long fantasized about this when I masturbated.
"Yes, I would, but please be gentle with me."
"Of course," he said, "You can tell me to stop whenever you want. Let's try it with you on top, and you lower yourself at your own speed, okay?"
He lay on his back and beckoned me to straddle him. I did, and he moved his cock along my crack. It felt electric, and I knew that I would soon have him inside me. Leaning down over him, my hands on his chest, I kissed him and told him I was ready. Reaching into his nightstand, he took out a small bottle and a condom. He held the packet up to my mouth and told me to open it. I took the end in my teeth, and he pulled it, tearing it. He smiled, and I back at him. He reached around me, and I could feel him unrolling it on his erection.
Next, he squirted some lube in hand and told me to stroke him, get him very slick. I did so, feeling his hardness. By that time, I wanted him badly and told him to fuck me. "Let's take it slowly," Richard said, clearly amused by my impatience. "Let me get you ready."
He put some more lube on the fingers of his right hand and reached behind me, spreading it along my hole and pushing a finger inside me. I jerked a bit, and he stopped, asking if I was okay. I said yes, and he very slowly moved his slick finger in and out for a minute or so, until he could tell I was more relaxed, loosened. He removed his finger, held my by my hips. "Let's start," he said, slightly lifting me, and I pushed myself over him, back towards his cock. Then he gave a slight push down on my hips, telling me to move down on him.
I did as he wanted (and as I wanted too!), and felt the tip of his erect penis touch my hole. He held me there for just a moment, the two of us looking at each other, and then I pushed down, trying to have him enter me, feeling the resistance. And then it happened, his cock head moving through my stiffness and into me. He held my hips, telling me to stay still for a moment, get used to the feeling. He asked if it hurt, and I said, yes, it did. "Wait a bit, relax, and the hurt will go away, and it will feel great."
I did, feeling his hands move over my thighs up to my waist and back. I slowly relaxed, and told him I wanted him inside me deeper. Smiling, he said, "Okay, lover," and he pushed up while I pushed down. Soon, he was all inside me, and I felt his legs against my bottom. I moved up, the length of him rubbing my inside. It felt so wonderful, and I arched my back, my right hand on his left leg, and then back down again, feeling him penetrate me once more. Soon, we were in a rhythm, me moving up and then down, he holding my hips, his eyes closed, his breathing quickening. I reached behind me, cupped his sack, and felt it contract. Opening his eyes, he said, "I'm going to cum," and with that, I felt him spasm as he let out a loud groan. He smiled, eyes closed, and I could tell he I moved back and forth a few more times, feeling him soften inside me, until I stopped, and then felt him slide out. I moved off him, lay down beside him, his right arm around me, my head on his shoulder, right hand on his chest. I felt his breathing subside, and he kissed my forehead. I knew he was pleased, and I felt great too. I rubbed his chest, over his nipples.
"Would you clean me up, Richard?"
I think I knew what he wanted, and I kissed both nipples and then down his chest, his stomach, until I reached his now flaccid cock. Removing the condom, I licked his slick cock, taking it in my mouth, swallowing his cum, and making sure I got every drop. "Thanks," he said, and climbed back over him. I kissed his again and again, my new lover.
"Why don't you order some room service for us," he said, as he headed for the bathroom. I did, and fell into a light sleep.
I heard a light knock on the door, and Richard opened the door, a towel around his waist and another around his shoulder. The waiter wheeled in the cart, and seemed a bit chagrined, looking at Richard and then over at me in the unkempt bed. He smiled knowingly, and Richard said, "Thanks," giving him a large tip. "Thank you, sir," the waiter said, again looking at me, with a wry smile on his face. He turned and left.