Twelve empty chairs formed a circle in the modern hotel room suite. Tick-tock; soon the chairs would be filled. Click-cock; with horny men eager for virgin ass.
The main room was large with lots of southern California sunshine streaming through the two sliding balcony doors. Unnecessary furniture had been removed to create as much play space as possible. It was nearly empty and echoed with screams of possibilities.
Sitting atop the building on the 21st floor, the suite and it's balcony provided a bird's eye perch above the other buildings in that part of Los Angeles and even had the slightest view of the ocean some 6 miles to the west as the condor flies. It was 3pm and the day could not have been more idyllic, the view more welcoming, and the room filled with more warming light.
Ari sat in one of the chairs, completely naked, and he was trembling. He had turned his back from the window and the distant welcoming ocean. The sun's rays streaming through the clear glass should have warmed his bare shoulders and spine but his body seemed to be rejecting the heat choosing instead to listen to Ari's sudden trepidation. "Aye, the moment is nigh," Ari whispered to himself with a medieval executioners accent hoping it would relieve the tension but it didn't. Uncertainty overwhelmed him and he felt completely alone and exposed and it was his own fault. He cussed at himself for embarking on this journey and frankly for executing the plan so well. He thought he was ready but he wasn't. He needed more time. Six months ago he lurched forward with this idea almost as a lark; a dramatic opportunity to satisfy several of his repressed fantasies. But now time was speeding toward him with the force of a tidal wave. He tried to control his breath. He put his hands on his knees to try to control the trembling.
He looked around the circle. For Ari, the twelve chairs became the marks of a clock face. Soon it would become a living timepiece as men would file in, take their seat in the circle and trap him in a temporal cage of his own design. Ari planned to move around the circle exactly two times, visiting with each man twice, and not being released from his sentence until he finished what he promised. Twenty four acts of depravity. "24 chairs - 24 hours," he thought to himself. "It's just like one day - only one day - one day is over in the blink of an eye," he rationalized and tried to talk himself into calming the fuck down.
Six months ago he had placed his first ad.
He typed the advert into the little white box on the screen. "Older married man, bi-curious, interested in hooking up with another man to pop his gay cherry. Location St. Louis. Please send picture and describe your own personal situation and how you might manage our first date. Discretion is required." He stared at it.
Ari had zero knowledge about the gay scene in St. Louis and he certainly had no idea what it was like to go to a gay bar and pick up a guy. The concept seemed dangerous, random and potentially highly disheartening if his graying hair, slight body fat, and weathered lines of experience was deemed a turn off to the presumably youthful bar scene. An ad, he reasoned, was safer and gave him options.
He entered the temporary email address he had created for the lark and then hit enter. He waited for the response.
It came. At first they trickled in and then trickled some more and then they stopped. The pickings were uninspiring. After the 'Jesus loves you' types, the transexuals, male prostitutes and losers that were unable to form a single intelligible sentence were eliminated the pickings were less than slim. The small glimmer of hope came from a few responses that seemed to indicate that a 48 year old virgin was unique and that some people might find it particularly erotic. One male prostitute even joked that he should be the one to pay Ari for the privilege of witnessing the look on Ari's face as he was introduced to the ways of homosexual bliss; the first time he came with a dick up his ass. Then the prostitute indicated his own price tag and Ari deleted the email with a laugh.
He was a bit disappointed but tried again, this time on a larger website with a national presence, although he had no idea how he would manage a hook-up with a man from New York. As could have been predicted the same inadequacies in candidates were presented - just in much larger volume.
Still, Ari sensed that some men were interested in the rarity of what he had to offer and that encouraged Ari. One inquiry suggested he create a video of himself and it also offered a few alternative websites to post the self produced porn for gay men. Ari realized he needed to step up his marketing.
****************
During a week that his wife was out of town Ari turned his attention to the creation of such a video recording. He conceived something beyond a headshot as he considered fondly his own likes and dislikes when it came to amateur porn. He wasn't a teenage girl seeking a schoolboy crush. Ari decided that if was going to sell this, then he was going to do it right. He was looking for a man to take him and he wanted to prove to that man that he was desperate and longing for what had so far eluded him his adult life - a hard, hot, thick cock.
It ultimately took Ari over thirty takes in various positions to get the raw video footage he wanted. After the first couple of takes he watched what he recorded and was surprised. He had never done this before and he found himself getting turned on by seeing his naked body as it writhed and flexed for the camera. He was by no means a young stud, but still when the light caught his well defined shoulders and equally defined ass just right, or he heard himself grown in satisfaction in response to his own masturbatory techniques, his cock twitched. He found himself groping at his half erect member and sagging balls while the video footage played.
He pawed at his crotch as if he was scratching an annoying itch and just when he was about to go into full stroke mode and splatter his seed over the video playback tablet he would catch himself and stop. Over several days he would stop and start like that and it made completing the video pleasantly slow. Once he slapped himself on the face in an attempt to quell his desire but to his surprise his dick twitched and didn't release the blood cells; it kept them as welcome prisoners. He slapped again and had the same result. He stopped the self-abuse for the sake of completing his 'art' but noted his reaction.
With each take he made small adjustments. He removed items in the background he felt might be distracting. He added some teasing warm-up scenes. He perfected and played with himself and experimented with various ideas until he was happy and worn out. He edited the scenes together into a 26.5-minute masterpiece. Then he cut it up into individual videos. He planned to post them over time to build up some suspense and increase interest with potential candidates.
He watched the first video before he posted it. "Just to make sure it's perfect," he lied to himself. The viewing had more to do with the growing hypersexuality that included bringing himself to that wonderful entrance to bliss when his cock was at its hardest, his balls were at their tightest, and his breathing at its deepest only to find the door slammed in his face and his body pulled back from release by the invisible hand of his own discipline. It left him panting and restrained, but not entirely unsatisfied. Ari found the experience oddly satisfying.
The first video started with a low-moderate bass beat setting the mood. This wasn't some young punk dance beat or hipster's rockabilly. This reflected the slow, relentless pounding of a mature man that finally decided to go the distance.
Opening credits:
"I have never . . .
Been with a man . . .
Been filled by a man . . .
And you can be that one . . .
That sees my face the first time I'm taken . . .
That feels my body yield to your penetration . . .
That watches as your cream fills me and bathes me in your sin . . .
You want it. You want me. The forty-eight-year-old virgin."
The words moved across the screen as background video of Ari's body parts flexed and glimmered in sexy close-ups. Oily skin and harsh light reflected back reminiscences of Greek manliness. His firm, tight ass flexed and tightened in protest to some unseen punishment. Well-defined biceps and shoulders rotated slowly as if throwing a discus. Massive thighs with muscles that bulged underneath light fur combined with thick 'peasant' calves to form legs that could roll Sisyphus' stone up the mountain. The imagery was tight and close-up and erotic even though it failed to reveal the steel chin, his defined abs or the oiled up appendage sliding between his thighs. But it did feature hands exploring ass cheek and bicep or thigh in slippery and oily delight.
