THE BOSTON MARATHON Copyright 2000 Rob Robinson
Last year one of my client's in Boston requested that I come to Boston for an important business meeting. Cool, I thought. I love Boston in the spring.
I called the Hilton in Back Bay, near the Prudential Center, a place I've often stayed, and inquired about reservations. "Rooms are $350 a night," I was told.
"Why?"
"You are coming during the Boston Marathon."
Shit. My client has booked an important meeting on Monday, the day of the Marathon. Since I needed to fly in on Saturday to get the cheap airfare it meant I needed a room for Saturday and Sunday nights during one of the busiest weekends of the year.
"Check with some of the smaller hotels," the person at the Hilton said. I asked for suggestions. "Try the Chandler Hotel. It is mainly a gay hotel but it's quite nice."
Hmmmmm. This could be just what I was looking for. I looked up the Chandler on the net and found it right away. "LGBT Friendly," the web page said, "Plus, check out our bar called Fritz on the first floor."
So I called the Chandler and got the last room available for Saturday and Sunday nights. $135 per night, twice the usual rate. But, at least I had a place to stay.
So, I arrived at the Chandler, it's in South Boston, in the late afternoon. It is an older hotel that reminds me of something you'd see in Europe. Clean, friendly people, nice vibes.
I took a walk around the hotel and saw that I was in a very gay neighborhood. I saw an upscale bookstore and went in. Cool store. I went over to the magazine rack and they had every gaymag I'd ever heard of and a lot more. I bought a copy of Playguy, an old fave, and a copy of XY, a new, glossy twink mag I'd never heard of.
I went down the street and stopped in a Thai Restaurant. I was seated and put the bag with my magazines on the table.
"Looks like someone has been shopping," I heard a voice say. It was this beautiful young Thai boy say. He swished over to me and said, "Hope you are hungry."
I muttered back something lame, then ordered shrimp fried rice. The cute waiter kept coming back and posing for me. Tight black jeans hugged his ass. His bulge was soooo tempting. But, he was busy, so I paid for my meal and went back to the hotel.
I decided to check out Fritz, the hotel bar.
Even though it was early, about 7:30pm, a crowd was starting to build at Fritz. It is a gay bar with a sports theme. Hockey on the TV sets. Guys in uniforms. Definitely a jock place.
I went to the bar and ordered a glass of red wine. Next to me there was this neat looking guy. He looked so preppy and out of place in this jock bar.
"You here for the Marathon?" I said to him.
"No. Meeting my boy friend from New York who is here to run. You in the Marathon?"
"No. I'm here on business."
"Where are you from?"
"Minneapolis."
"Really?" Puppy dog look on his face.
"Yeah. You know it?"
"Well just that my favorite TV show is set there!"
Then he broke into song, singing the theme to the "Mary Tyler Moore" show. It was so adorable and funny. I sang along with him. (But didn't have the heart to tell him I hate the program.)
He said his name was "Bryan, With a Y."
Then, he said, "So you've got a room here?"
"Yeah."
"I've never seen the rooms here. Why don't you show me yours."
Hard to pass up an invitation like that.
As we rode up in the elevator, I got a better look at Bryan. He was about 5' 10", maybe 160#, nice longish brown hair in a ponytail, glasses and the coolest red suspenders I'd ever seen. He was in his early 30s and had a slight beard, sort of like Don Johnson used to have on "Miami Vice."
We got to my room and started flirting with each other.
"I just want to play," he said, "I saving my load for my boyfriend."
"Cool," I said.
And play we did. Like a couple of 14 year olds. We explored each others bods, walk around with bouncing boners, measured our cocks (he was 6.2", I'm 7.0"). We sat on the bed and played racecar driver using each other's dicks as the gear shift. All fun boy stuff.
I was sitting on the end of the bed and walked on front of me, ass towards me. He stopped. I leaned forward and kissed his marvelous butt. It was almost hairless and perfectly proportioned.
I kissed his ass again and he bent forward like a reed, giving a little sigh. His pink little asshole was right in front of my face, so I licked it. "Mmmm," he said.
Bryan must have prepared for his b/f because his ass was clean. I swear he had powdered his butt.
I devoured his boy butt. Sticking my tongue in, kissing and sucking. It was as wonderful as mansex gets.
I rubbed his balls and reached around and grabbed his cock. I don't know if I've ever felt a cock that hard. I kept doing his asshole while stroking him. Bryan turned around and leaned back up. His cock was pointing straight up at the ceiling fan.
I jacked him a few more times and he said "Let me show you something."
With no hands on it, his cock began to pulse and he began to shoot wads of cum without touching his cock. Fucking awesome! I'd seen this in videos but had never seen it in person. It was so fucking erotic. A cock about ten inches from my face shooting sperm like a fountain.
"You like that?"
"Yeah," I said, almost unable to speak.
I was so ready that I jacked myself about three times and squirted a huge load all over myself.
So, we cleaned ourselves up. Bryan said he had to go back to Fritz and meet his b/f. (Too bad b/f!) So, he left and I took a shower.
I had read on the net about another bar that was three blocks from the Chandler. It was called the Cafe something... I needed some air. It was warm outside and I enjoyed the walk over to the bar.
I entered and I was beamed into disco-boy-land. The place was packed with Marathon runners. Guys in their 20s, in running shorts, speedos and cutoffs. No shirts. Sweat pouring from the ceiling. Loud, loud disco music pulsing from everywhere. Dance, dance, dance.
There were lot's of big video monitors around the bar. As the DJ/VJ would change the music, the video would change. Sometimes it was a music video, sometimes footage of an all-male fashion show with nearly-nude guys on a catwalk, sometimes it was live images of dancers in the crowd. But always disco, disco, disco.
The boy-watching was excellent but I have a low tolerance for bad disco music. About the third time I heard "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred, I noticed a Budweiser sign in the back of the bar that said "Paradise" and had an arrow pointing to a corner. I made my way back to the sign and could see that it was beside a hallway that led to another room.
I don't do "dark rooms" because of the fear of STDs and rip offs. Plus, I like to see my sex partners in some light.
There was light on in Paradise, so I went in. It was a smaller room, the music wasn't quite as loud and the many video monitors around the room were playing hardcore gay porn flicks. Hot gay porn flicks.
Most of the activity seemed to be at the back of the room. A big group of guys were standing there, backs towards me as I walked their way. I got up in the crowd and saw why everyone was standing together: On a table in a semi-circular booth near the back corner of the room there was this guy who was naked on table doing it with four other guys.
He looked a little like John Elway (let's call him "Johnny") and he was nude, on his back on an oval-shaped orange formica table. Two guys were on the left side of the booth. They were both naked and sticking their cocks at Johnny. Johnny would suck one, then suck the other. The two guys were on their knees, hanging over the table. They were kissing each other.
Guy #3 was wearing jeans and no shirt and was jacking Johnny off. Guy #4 had just a jock strap on, with the jock pulled to the side, full boner jutting out. #4 was trying to get an angle on Johnny's ass, rubbing the head of his dick in Johnny's buttcrack.
Around the scene were about 20 guys in various stages of undress. Maybe five had their dicks out and were jacking off. A couple were playing with each other. There were hardons all around, including me.
I became transfixed on guy #3. He was the cutest of the guys, smaller than the others. Maybe 5'6" and a slender build. He had the distinctive goatee and mustache. And, he was sooooo eager. I seldom seen anyone that into sex.
#3 was working Johnny's tool, stroking and sucking it. Play with it like it was a candy sucker. He was worshiping that cock and I couldn't stop watching him.
Some of the j/o guys had cum. The room smelled of mansex. The guy behind me was dry-humping my butt. I had huge precum stains on my pants.
Then, Johnny exploded. Shots huge wads of sperm into the air.
There was collective moan in the room. Even a little applause. Several other guys came at the same time. I'd never seen anything quite like it.
I kept watching #3. As soon as Johnny rolled off the table, #3 moved on and laid down. One guy undid his fly. Another guy helped pull down his pants. The whole crowd moved closer as every guy wanted to touch the hot blond boy. His tool was sticking in the air with three different guy's hands on it, all stroking him at once.
Then, a couple of loud voices were heard. "Come on, break this up, you wanna get us shut down, take it somewhere else, put your dicks back in your pants, yada, yada, yada." It was a couple of the bar's bouncers, just doing their jobs. The scene quickly dispersed.
I suddenly got a grip back on reality and realized that I was covered with moisture and felt like I was going to faint. I left the bar by the back door. I walked by a circle of guys in the alley that were smoking a joint, talking about the incredible sex scene they had just watched. The night air made me feel so alive.
I walked back over to Fritz. I must have looked a fright. I decided to have another drink. Fritz was crowded but seemed tame compared to where I had just been.
I saw Bryan. He was sitting on the lap of some hunky-looking guy who was wearing a runner's shirt and shorts. Bryan looked at me and smiled. I smiled back at him. Laughed a little actually, knowing that I had gotten the load earlier in the evening he was supposedly saving for Mr. b/f.
I went back up to my room alone. I took out the copy of Playguy and XY and looked at the pictures. And I beat off thinking about what had happened to me in the past few hours.
My business meetings went great and by late afternoon Monday, I was on the plane going back home still in my Boston Marathon dream.