Those wanting explosive sex with massive cocks in the opening paragraphs, this story will be a disappointment. If you like a story that builds a relationship before the ultimate plunge into sex, this story will not be a disappointment. This is a work of fantasy. The author retains all copyrights
Winter in New York - A Week in Seattle
Winter winds howled out of the north. My bedroom is on the north side of the house and taking the brunt of the storm. Trying to look out a window, all I saw was snow horizontally blown. I was glad that in my planning and design, I insisted on above code insulation throughout. I felt the warmth of the furnace as it forced air throughout the cabin. I wanted a wood-burning stove but new building codes would have added a couple thousand to construction costs; a retrofit is much less and in the budget for next fall.
I live alone after many years of marriage, 42 to be exact. We drifted apart after the kids grew and left home. One day I came home from a twelve hour long eight-hour day exhausted and stressed, knowing in my mind that something had to give. Age 62, working more hours than most of the staff and spinning my wheels was not what I expected after finishing years of doctoral study, writing a thesis on improving worker motivation, seeing it implemented throughout our entire global industry, and receiving no additional royalty payments - since I'm an employee. Fortunately, I did not turn over the copyright. This night, I snapped, told my wife good-bye, packed a few things and left.
I emailed my resignation effective immediately and withdrew permission to use my copyrighted procedures. I knew they had to continue using them and forced to pay me handsomely to consult, on my terms not theirs.
Months later I'm divorced, moved across country to a winter wonderland, and receiving huge royalties from my former employer and consulting on employee motivation in several countries. I'm working on my terms, have extended time off throughout the year and generally, my commute to work is bedroom, to coffee pot, to kitchen table where my laptop sits. Working twelve-hour days for my ex-company, I earned less than $150,000.00. Now I am earning seven figures working in my underwear and taking consulting trips eight to ten times a year, at their expense.
One such trip was coming up and I was anxious to go because I would be staying with a life long friend for a week. He had many plans for things to do while visiting and I wanted to curb his enthusiasm so we could spend time recapturing some of our youth in ways that didn't include crowded bars and pulse shattering loud music.
I gave him all the flight information and began packing for the trip. I am not a "suit," rather I am business slacks and knit golf shirts. Each business in which I consult knows my professionalism comes from years of research not from Hart, Shaffner & Marx. I pack a carry on with enough to wear and I am not ashamed to wash clothes when they need.
My taxi arrived on time. I use the same taxi company and request the same driver each trip. The driver, Ted, and I get along well, Ted knowing that the $12.00 charge nets him a $20.00 dollar tip because of his timeliness. Even better, he is good company on the drive.
Leaving from Northern Tier airports in winter is always an adventure. Fortunately, the storm of a few days ago only delayed movement for a couple days; leaving today was sure to be on time. Nice thing about airports in northern states, they are small and the TSA people are usually your neighbors or people you see often. Movement through the secure gates is a snap even when inspectors are overseeing operations. The only down side of small airports is that the aircraft operating into out of are small commuter jets that I've heard called Barbie Fun Jets.
I connected to a non-stop in New York and had a first class ticket to Seattle. David, my schoolmate, would meet me there. David and I have known each other since we were young teens of 13. Middle school and high school years went by quickly because of our close friendship. We stayed in touch by telephone and letter writing over the years, then with computer meditated communication and the cell phone, we stayed in closer contact.
Several years ago, David told me he was homosexual. He said it in a whisper as though not saying it aloud meant he wasn't. I forced him to tell me openly and in normal speaking voice because we were not going to start having secrets between us. David and I played high school football for our hometown school. I reminded him that we know each other's bodied by sight from all the after practice showers we took then and being gay was not a friendship breaker.
David is the same age as I, about the same height and physical build. We dated girls who were the cheerleader type - well they were cheerleaders. We were the kiss and tell type of guys although we didn't brag all over the school, we just bragged between ourselves. Did I believe his stories of conquest? Yes, is the simple answer and more detailed, we were often in the same room conquering at the same time if our dates were willing.
He is handsome, even in my eye, he is attractive somewhat rugged. He has as many women friends as men friends and won't ignore giving a woman a good time even though he is no longer sexually attracted to them.
Since my divorce, I have been mostly alone, avoiding relationships. From time to time, I will have an affair but never long term. Now, seeing David this trip and staying with him, I am considering having a long personal talk with him to discover what gay sex is like, tell him I'm curious. That will probably shock him.
I wasn't going into this blindly, mind you. I am a researcher, educated in research methods, unafraid to ask questions, unafraid to seek answers. I spent several months studying male anatomy, examining myself, and using toys to learn if I liked having my anus penetrated. After all the research and self-examination, I knew that being a bottom was something I wanted to try. This trip, this week with David, was the time I decided to take on the challenge of seducing my best friend.
The arrival at SEA-TAC was just a little late due to strong head winds over the Midwest. We had to climb out of the winds, over them, or fight buffeting turbulence. A little late is worth a comfortable ride. On deplaning, I made sure to thank the crew for choosing the more comfortable path, I believe it is important to let people know when I appreciate their efforts.
I passed through the security zone and into the main building. Standing off to the side was David with a broad smile on his face. "Martin! You old butt hole! Over here." He still had not given up his old high school nickname for me and before this week was over, I hoped it had a new meaning.
I guess old high school nick names don't die as I responded, "You old cock bite, why don't you have a drink wait for me?" I grabbed David in a tight manly hug that old friends share.
"Drink is on the table inside." He pulled me into the bar and sat me down to a glass of 25 year-old single-malt Scotch. At airport prices, that two-ounce drink must have cost a couple paychecks. He had one also.
"I was paying attention to the weather, heard you were routed above some bad wind, actually expected you to be a bit later," he raised his glass and took a sip.
"The flight crew was great, took us over the top then pushed the throttles to make up time. I had to tell them how much I appreciated it." I took my glass and sipped the Scotch letting it rest on my tongue so I could enjoy the full flavor. I locked eyes with David, "I'm glad we'll have this week together. There are some things I want to share with you." I did not want to get into any detail after just five minutes. "The night is young, what's the plan."
