I love business trips. They allow me to have a hotel room all to myself, something I never get in my personal life. I pick the restaurants I eat at, bars I drink at and can set my schedule at my convenience which always includes plenty of "play" time.
My last trip was no exception. What was essentially a 2 hour meeting in the middle of the day turned into a 4pm arrival in Boston the day before and a noon flight on the day after the meeting. That gave me play time two nights in a row and with a late flight out, I could sleep in after a long night up.
Another thing I love about business travel is free wireless internet. I take my laptop and can do whatever I want online without fear of prying eyes. It has all my internet bookmarks and anywhere I want to surf, is right at my fingertips. Manhunt, chat rooms, X-Tube, you name it, everything is right where I want it.
About me. I'm a living, breathing cliché'. The married man who had a gay experience in college, then nothing for another 15 years, only to discover how much he enjoyed the man on man contact and had a preference for younger guys, primarily 20-something athletes. Blame it on that first time, maybe, always trying to relive the initial experience. Enough psychoanalysis, on with the story.
So here I am, middle of February in a hotel in Foxborough, I've had dinner and a couple of beers, called the family and begged off a long evening phone call because of "meeting prep" and settled in for a long evening of porn, chat rooms and possibly setting up a hookup.
I'm extremely picky. I know what kind of guy I prefer and tend to hold out for only that. As a result, very often I start and end the evening alone and spend my time masturbating like a teenager home alone. My ideal guy is 20ish, very athletic, smooth if possible, my size or smaller. They need to be versatile to a bottom, more submissive than dominant. They don't need to be hung well, but I do prefer they not be built like a pre-teen either. I'm nothing spectacular, 5'11, 205 lbs, shaved head with a goatee and hung 7 x 6 cut, but I've never had anyone run screaming away from me either. I get compliments so I guess I look pretty good.
My Manhunt profile spells out my tastes. I leave the Gay site chat rooms up and keep an eye on the profiles of guys entering to see if they fit my tastes. Some do and I hit on them, more often ignored and dissed, however, some will chat. Not all are open to meeting, some are way too eager. I'm OK with that since if not everything fits my comfort level, I back away too.
Again, so here I am in Foxborough, surfing the net, cruising online and my first night in, I'm not really seeing anyone that interests me too much. I've got Limewire up and have downloaded Falcon's "The Farmer's Son" and have just about given up on finding anyone for the night. Damn shame, got the hotel room and no one to come visit me. That damn Erik Rhodes in the video has me sorely tempted to expand my preferred type to the bigger, brawny types and his scene with Jason Adonis has me horny beyond belief.
Within 30 seconds of each other, I had a chat window pop up on Gay.com and a email come across on Manhunt. Both from NEPTE87. I checked his profiles and they were consistent, which is a good sign. He was 26 years old, 6'2, 235 lbs, ok, so a little bigger then me. Damn, check that, a lot bigger than me. The pics looked good though, muscles, a little hair but really toned well and the partial face pics indicated he was a nice looking guy. I was encouraged but after a little back & forth, it was obvious that he wasn't up for anything that night, so I politely played out the conversation while watching the video.
The final scene involved big Erik and Jamie Donovan and had me worked into a sweaty crescendo. Like I said, seeing the big burly muscle guys on the screen had me thinking "why not?" and NEPTE87 sure fit they type, from what I could tell. But it was late, he was offline and I needed to cum and when I finally did, I spewed well up my chest and felt drops of my cum hit my chin and lips, which I promptly lapped up. Why waste good cum, right?
The rest of the night was uneventful from a contact perspective and I crashed a little after 1:00am and was back up at 7:00am to get ready for my meeting at 11:00am. Done at 1:30 and I spent the afternoon driving around the area, hit a mall, sporting good shop, looked for a video place I'd seen online, not finding it. I think they only come out near dark or something. Finally, back to the hotel for a 2 hour workout and swim in the pool, finishing with a session in the hot tub. The hotel had a nice sauna too, but I figured that would be good for later.
The trusty 'ol laptop was still booted up and online, I had a few emails and hits to deal with and then I saw one from my boy, NEPTE87. He was asking if I was still in town tonight (yes I was) and if I was still interested (Hell yes I was). I fired back a note, told him to look for me online and we'd talk some more.
A light dinner and I was back in the room, hovering over the laptop. Different from last night, tonight there were several likely prospects online and remarkably, several showed interest in me as well. But for some reason, I was waiting for NEPTE87 to come online and see what might happen.
Sometime after 8, he was back. First an email that I replied to, then he opened an IM window and we were talking.
"Looking for some company?" he asked
"Might be," I answered "got some time to spare?"
"What you got in mind?" he fires back. I explained again the scenes I was comfortable with and what I liked to do.
"Sounds fucking hot!" he told me.
A little more chit chat and I was more confident about him, confident enough to give him my location and room number. He told me it would be about 15 minutes, I said OK and then he was gone.
In exactly 12 minutes, I heard a knock at my door. I looked through the peephole and all I could see was a massive chest inside a Patriots sweatshirt. I opened the door and looked up at my visitor and suddenly flashed back to the video from the night before. Nice. This could be fun.
"Come on in," I told him, "I'm Paul"
"Matt," he answered in a slight NE twang. "good to meet you"
"How much time do you have?" I asked, remembering him saying something earlier about a later commitment.
"Got an hour or so, let's not waste any time." he said, reaching out and stroking my crotch, his eyes fixed in front of him on my fly.
