[A heart-felt thanks to Marc-1 for all the encouragement over the years in many ways and to Marc-2 who inspired this story and who I hope gets what he's looking for.]
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"Sure." That's all I said, but you can't believe all I had wrapped into that one syllable. There were literally years of my looking, almost desperately at times, for the right, safe situation for this to happen, and now it was about to. When he asked, my emotions were simultaneously terror of Murphy's Law and exhilaration like I was sitting on a missile. The latter easily took over the former, though. I tried to hide all this with a nonchalant smile and even in this alternative word I chose for "please - yes – please." His just got a huge smile on his face in return.
Somehow in the conversation leading up to this, after the three martinis -- four, I forget, I let it slip how I've been wanting more and more to try getting it on with a guy. I told about how I tried out a little mutual jacking off and even oral once in college, but nothing since. He said he had too, and we laughed and agreed that any guy who denies doing at least that much is a fucking liar. I told him about this gnawing desire, but the more it increased, the more there seemed to always be some reason why I can't, even when there's clearly a two-way connection. Becoming more reflective and analytical about it I even said, sort of defensively: "look, you see me. I'm not that bad looking. I'm a reasonably well built, six foot married white dude with normal hardware below. I still turn a head or two – women and men. Since I took care of my face, you even guessed me to be 8 years younger than I am." He just agreed and meant it.
He had this demur, I don't know, somber personality; not rude or anything. It's more of a peaceful confidence, and believe me, he has plenty to be confident about. Even at our age north of 40, he's fucking model material. I think he looked a lot younger because his blond hair hung down over his forehead to his eyebrows. He wore that slightly unshaven look. His eyes were almost navy blue. Even though we were still in our suits from work you could see great things in that body, particularly that ass when he bent over sideways to pick up something off the floor. I wish you could've seen it. It fit his frame; attached high on his back; and protruded round and muscular from his thighs. When he sat back up, you could see his dick rolling around. I don't think I could've dreamed up a much better looking dude to do this with.
Anyway, we ended up at the bar together by luck – accident -- whatever. I was there because I was rotating off the board of that professional group, and he was coming onto the board. I hadn't seen him for years and really didn't know him that well, although I remembered the body. Anyway, I'd had enough of this group and was sort of pissed that I had to be there. I go to this meeting room off the hotel dining room, and there are 103 people chasing 100 chairs. I decided to go take a leak and think about whether I could just bolt. When I came out of the men's room we ran into each other and said hello. He was pissed too about having come into town, paid for a hotel room and now had no place to sit. You know me, liquor and sex -- or the lack the latter -- rule my life. I spotted the bar just on the corner of the meeting space and suggested we go sit there, ostensibly to listen to the meeting program at a distance. I don't think we ever heard a word of it.
You know how you feel that unspoken connection with another guy and know what you're both thinking and wishing for. I felt it right away with him, even before the first drink kicked in. We talked about stuff, emphasizing some point of the conversation by a light tap on the leg or squeeze of the arm. Eventually, our legs made contact below the bar. It was too dark in the bar for anybody to really see any of this, and I was turned on as hell. Both of us kept returning the conversation to sex, and eventually he leaned in at one point so our arms were touching too and told me about this smoking hot, college-aged parking valet he'd seen earlier giving him the eye. As he described the young stud, you could see the lust growing in his face and hear it in his voice as he was reliving the moment in his head. I looked down, and he had a major boner, and that started giving me one too. He had to talk a big gulp of his 'tini to regain composure. He saw that I saw his boner as he did and said, "sorry," but then crossed his legs so I got a better view.
