travel – Page 3 – Grindr Fantasies

Takuya

Takuya. He looks kind of the character from Heros whom I had a major crush on. Only with better abs.

He’s been in Canada only a few weeks, and he returns to Japan next year. Small talk is impossible. He asks me to repeat myself three times when I comment on the weather. In my hotel room, we smile at each other and he politely strips for me. His cock is thick as bratwurst and his glans seems to be ready to bust out of its foreskin. I drop on my knees in front of him, and start to lick his balls. I grab his hands and place them on my head. He gasps at every motion I make, so it’s clear I have to take it easy. I take my time working my way to the tip, and when I swallow him he sighs appreciatively, and sits shifts to sit down on the bed.

Despite the initial gasps, nothing is really happening. I do enjoy looking up his fat-free abdomen. Never mind abs, I can see every supple curve carved out of his obliques. They shift when he moves like a milk chocolate sheet of satin. He motions for me to come up to him, so I do, and then he parts his lips and we kiss.

A kiss is hit and miss with me. With Takuya, it feels right, and my cock stirs in my briefs. I run my hands over his hard body and I squeeze his ass. We tumble playfully, and I end up on top of him, fighting a hot tongue war, while he wrenches down my underwear.

We tumble again and now he slowly kisses his way down my belly to my crotch. He looks up at me questioningly. “Is OK?” He asks.

I nod. “Yes, please suck,” I tell him. It is rare that I allow someone to return the favour. I simply get more pleasure out of giving. But I was beginning to wonder if it was a cultural issue. Perhaps he could not allow himself to cum until he had pleased his host.

But – oh yes, this is nice – it has been ages since I’ve been in such softness. His mouth feels so good, I can’t resist thrusting a little. He gurgles and gags, valiantly trying to please me.

When he looks up, I ask him, very clearly enunciating the words, “Do you like cum in your mouth?”

“Yes cum. I swallow.”

“How about we 69? OK?” I spin around in the bed. He smiles in agreement, then lowers his head and upside-down kisses my lips again. After more making out, he climbs up on top of me and his thick cock hangs over my face. I crane my head back and suck it.

He is sucking my dick, gagging and gurgling. I am very pleased to have his dick in my throat, but he is not really doing anything with it, and from the bottom, there isn’t much you can do if he’s not thrusting. I massage his cute balls, silky soft ping pong sized, the palm of my hand, and run my fingers along the plasticy smooth wrinkles of his anus.

I think he really wants me to cum first, so I resolve to oblige. At the next opportunity, I spin around again, then paw his head down to my cock. I moan and thrust, and not hurrying at all, enjoy the feeling of his mouth on my cock. I run my hands through his spiky black hair. I love watching him, sucking so hard he’s fishy faced. I raise my knees up on either side of his ears, and face fuck him.

My legs fall away and I mash my crotch up into him, curling my toes as I feel myself cumming. He swallows it all, licks his lips and smiles at me.

“Thank-you,” I tell him. When he stands up, I’m afraid he might leave, so I tell him, very clearly, “Now it’s your turn.”

He smiles and lays back down on the bed, and I flop down between his legs, resting on my belly. When I get my mouth around his dickm I immediately I notice the difference. He has satisfied his host, and now it seems he is ready to take the pleasure that I offer him. I move my head up and down, and he slowly bucks his hips. He brings his legs closer together, as every muscle tenses.

“I cum now,” he informs me, and I feel a flood fill my mouth. This load is huge, and keeps coming in waves, even dwarfing my encounter on Monday. It is delicious, and as I’ve never had so much before, I notice that it burns slightly when served in such quantities. Finally, he shudders and orgasm stops, and I let him pop out of my mouth with a slurp, and swallow his thick load. It goes down and tingles like fire in my throat.

I get up and start to look for my underwear. But I hear him call. He’s still laying there, hand around his cock. He motions to me with two fingers, bringing them to his mouth. “Kiss,” he says. “More. K-Kiss now?”

I grin at him. Sure. I leap onto the bed beside him, reach around, and bring my lips down to his. His kiss is electrifying, so soft and wet, I am happy to keep going as long as we can. I press down, move more of my body over his, stealing his lips for my pleasure.

Thats when I feel the first spurt hit my elbow. I look down in shock and see another missle, white as cream and thick as honey, shoot from his cock, as he pumps it furiously between his thumb and forefingers.

Immediately, I move down to it. His knuckles bang against my chin as I bring my lips over to his slit and suck in air, as if using a drinking fountain. I see waves of tension release as an orgasm again rips through his body, and I do my best to capture as much as I can through my lips as his pleasure slowly dies down. At last, he releases the head to me, and I suckle it slowly, as much as I dare, before his sensitivity sets in.

“You like?” he laughs.

I look up at him. “Yes. Yes I like!”

He lovingly brushes his finger against my cheek, mopping up a quivering glob of his seed, and holds it out for me to lick.

In a moment, we are embraced again, kissing, sharing the taste of him. Our bodies press together and we tumble in the bed, entwined with the pure pleasure of release.

After he’s showered and dressed, he points to the corner of my hotel room and tells me, “I move in here tomorrow.”

“Oh, really?” I say, smile faltering. I’m going to have to bolt my door when he leaves. I didn’t think my blowjobs were that good.

He cocks his head a little more, looks around, as if trying to find the words, and points to the wall. “K– Queen street. I moving to Queen street tomorrow.” He smiles at me.

Well, that’s a relief. “If I’m ever in town again, I’ll look you up!”

Threesome at the Hotel

I’m waiting in the tiny lobby of the Pantages hotel in downtown Toronto. Unlike the Sheraton, the elevators here require a keycard to work, so this makes arranging a threesome a little more interesting. I wonder who will arrive first?

A young guy, Eric, messaged me in University Town yesterday morning. When I told him I’d actually be in Toronto for the week, he enthusiastically told me that’s where he was from. I had already made plans for the first night of my trip, but they quickly changed to a threesome.

At 6 pm, I see him walk in the door and I make eye contact. The 20 year old had warned me twice that he was stocky. When I reassured him that it was cool, he sent a terribly lit bathroom photo with love handles spilling over his tight underwear. Fine! I was prepared for anything. It’s hard enough to get three people to agree to meet over Grindr, so you can’t be choosy.

In person, though, he looked like a different guy. He is strong and trim. With some confidence, and a new photo, he could do well.

“Hey,” he says, shaking hands with me before he sits down on the chair facing me.

“Sorry we couldn’t meet earlier,” I told him, “I went out to dinner with a friend.” During dinner, he had messaged me, pleading to meet earlier, but since I was out, I had to tell him no.

“It’s OK,” he says, looking slightly pained as leans back in the chair, and presses his hand against his bladder.

“We just have to wait for Jack now… Actually, I think that’s him.” It has been 13 months since I’d seen Jack’s face, but I instantly knew him. Last July, I was over at his apartment for my first threesome. After his wedding, however, he had given up playing around. Still, he sometimes pops up on Grindr, and quickly agreed to meet in Toronto. The threesome was his idea. Jack is incredibly fit. His dark shirt covers his perfect V-shaped frame.

Back in my room, the air is musty and hot. I only had time to throw my bag down when I arrived this afternoon. Jack tracks down the thermostat and turns it on for us.

“I think Eric has something he’d like to do first… desperately.” I say, winking.

“Yes,” he exclaims. We quickly get out of our clothes on the way to the bathroom, except Eric keeps his shirt on. He stands in front of the shower, holding his cock.

I’m on my knees, and Jack stands in the doorway, watching with curiousity. But with Jack nude now, we are both transfixed by his perfectly toned body. Apparently, volleyball can do wonders for your physique.

“I might have to go too,” he says.

“Hmmm… Shall we make Eric wait?” I say, and here our young friend gasp.

“Nah, that’s too cruel. Go ahead”

I turn to face Eric, and very slowly move toward his flaccid penis. He pulls back the foreskin a little. I wrap my mouth around it, and he lets out a sigh as he relaxes. Too quickly, the flood is unleashed. I can’t swallow fast enough, and some spills out and down my chin as I close my mouth. Last night, Eric had bragged that he would have about one litre for me. As I gulp down each mouthful, I feel my belly quickly filling, and I wonder if I’m going to have to stop. But I can’t stop because then I’d be drenched. Instead I have to keep gulping it down as quickly as he can piss it out. When he is finally done, I suck the last few drops straight out of his dick.

I turn to Jack who’s been watching with curiosity.

“Well now it’s too late. I’m hard,” he says.

We laugh and stare at his dick, sticking straight out at me. I can’t resist and plunge my mouth over it. He gasps and holds my head as I start to blow him. I’m in candyland; on my knees in front of two dicks.

“Shall we move to the bed?” Eric asks when I finally let go to breathe.

The two men lie back on my fresh white hotel sheets. I reach under Jack’s thighs, pull myself up to him and go down on balls and cock. He gasps as I take him into my throat.

“Wow you’re good at deep throat now,” he exclaims appreciatively.

I’m excited by the praise and suck on him with more gusto. But I remember all those months ago he came very quickly, and by the way he is bucking his hips up, history might repeat, so I have to back off.

You taught me how,” I tell him. “By force, as I recall!”

I will never let him forget that.

Eric has been watching patiently. I look into his eyes and start to work on him again. His cock is slippery with precum. He moans appreciatively, and I feel the underside of his dick hardening.

I’m kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, and I feel Jack grabs my cock and starts to jerk it. Then I feel the hotness of his body behind me, and something warm and hard pressing against my butt crack. Jack is lightly humping my butt now, It feels so arousing. I have never let anyone inside, but just the feeling of him sliding further between my cheeks as he pleasures himself, while I suck on Eric’s penis, makes me feel like a whore. It is awesome.

Eric is enjoying my enthusiasm too. He starts to thrust up into my face, moaning.

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum,” he gasps. Then he holds his breath and plants his large hands on the back of my head, holding me in place, while he takes over the thrusting. I am so turned on I am high. I can’t wait to taste his load. He thrusts faster now, still holding his breath.

Finally, he gives a sexy grunt of release, and jabs himself against my throat, holding me there. I feel his cum forcing its way out and down my throat. Immediately I know there is going to be a lot of it. I feel like I’m about to choke, but thankfully he relaxes his grip on me and I’m able to back away slightly. With each pulse he squirts out a wave of cum and it fills my mouth. As the pulses die down, I suck him as long as I can, until he starts to soften, and then carefully pull back. I taste the huge wad of his jizz in my mouth, roll it around my tongue, and then swallow.

Eric sighs and collapses into the bed, spent.

I turn to Jack, and he is already laying beside Eric. He presses his cock out toward me. A clear drop of precum sits on his slit. I lap it up, and then start to suck on him, moving my lips back and forth over his sensitive head with reckless abandon.

“Oh yes!” gasps Jack and when I look up I see that Eric’s mouth is clamped over Jack’s nipple, and he’s running his hands over Jack’s perfect abs.

Jack moans as he experiences the pleasures of two mouths on him at once. His legs, which are hanging off the side of the bed, shoot up. A few seconds later, his cock pulses and the taste of sperm again floods my mouth.

As I suck him clean, I think that I really have to get more guys next time.

Jack reaches for my cock, so I get up onto the bed. Unfortunately, hand jobs rarely work for me, so I lay down with them and take over. As I stroke, their hands are everywhere, playing with my nipples, and my balls. A moment later, I lift my ass off the bed and shoot into the air. I feel some land on my face and chest, and more on my abdomen. I keep going.

“Wow, that is really a lot,” remarks Jack.

“It is indeed,” agrees Eric.

I look down at the puddle and grin proudly.

That was the first night.

Morning Wood in Montreal

I’m in Montreal for a few days. Tonight, I’ve told my business colleagues I’m doing some shopping while they have dinner. The truth is: I’m horny. It’s been a three month dry spell at home. I flip on grindr and just walk.

At night, Sainte-Catherine Street comes alive with glowing purple lights and street performers, as they crawl out their shipping container dressing rooms and prepare to perform to beer-gulping Montreal tourists. Further on, the clothing boutiques give way to poutine diners and Starbucks cafes. Soon I reach the gay village. The boundary between straight and gay is well marked. Hundreds of pink plastic balls are suspended over the street, in a giant cavernous spectacle. They seem to glow with an inner light. Under here, they seem to say, you’re safe. Come, join us. You belong.

I can never belong. I made my choice long ago, when I met my soul mate at the end of school. She saw past my shyness, and became the first person I dated. Now, we have a house, mortgage, kids, and seemingly everything is good. But I crave a physical connection that she can do without. For years I lived the lack of it using lonely porn, until I discovered that I was not entirely straight. With discretion, and a dose of guilt, I could have the best of both worlds.

I’m walking down the middle of the street, which is blocked off to vehicles all summer. Upscale pubs and restaurants spill their patios onto the street, full of diners sipping St. Ambroise craft beers and delicately forking up fancy french fries covered with a mess of gravy and smoked meat.

I look at the patrons and try to decide if they’re gay. Men sit with men, and men sit with women. Lost in thought, I almost crash into a lanky gray haired man, wearing a tank top far below his age. His loose leathery skin hangs off his arms in a display of pride. After tasting me with his eyes, he smiles seductively and continuous his brisk walk.

The establishments have open fronts, like a life sized gay diorama. A shirtless bartender, illuminated by red lights lazily pours beers for the small crowd of bearded bears around him. I pass Sebastian the Barber. Inside the chrome filled barber shop, a punk (Sebastian?) gracefully dances around his barber chair, putting the finishing touches on a brown guy in business attire. The two men could not have been more eclectic.

On my left I see a store with its window boarded up. Paradoxically, the above sign is lit and shining brightly. Black letters cast a silhouetted shadow of red. PRIAPE. From the Greek god of the penis, and the etomological root of a medical condition, priapism – a persistent and painful erection. I look through the open door, but I can’t see anything. I relent, and enter.

“Salut! Hello!” The clerk, a red-bearded bear of a man greets me.

“Just looking!” I exclaim, and I scurry behind a display stand of faceless black rubber masks. I can buy very little here without raising questions from my wife. Maybe some underwear. I try on a couple of pairs of PUMP briefs, admiring my body in the tiny change room. Shit, I can pull these off now. The smallest size hug my balls and make my ass look shapely.

When I emerge fully dressed again, the clerk is standing outside the curtain. “I would like to invite you to my basement,” he tells me, winking. “It is where the fun is, yes?”

I start at him blankly, wondering how he could proposition me so easily. Then my cheeks grow hot when I notice the stairs down to the other half of the store.

“I’ll have a look. Thanks.” Downstairs, a giant black sex swing hangs from the ceiling, holding piles of discounted latex penises. The premium models are impossibly sized and have testes attached, each wrinkle permanently etched in silicon. I consider getting one, but then realize that would be mad. Nothing has ever been inside me. I’ll start with a finger, one of these days.

I make my purchase and head out into the chaos outside. Grindr is useless here. Everyone on the screen is less than ten feet away, but they are busy, and it changes too quickly.

On Jack’d, I see the image of a cute twink. Shirtless, he rakes his hand through his tussled hair, as if he’d just woken up. He smiles infectiously. I message him, and a couple of others, but get no response.

The night seemed full of possibilities, but all I’ve got is $70 worth of spandex. Resigned, I board the metro at Beaudry station and rejoin my colleagues for beers in old Montreal. I remember little else from that night.

In the morning, I spring awake at 5:30. It will be hours until I have to report to work. I flip on my phone and browse. A message blinks at me. The twink from Jack’d has responded just now. We efficiently negotiate the details. He doesn’t want to come over, but I’m welcome to go to him. After I decipher the metro map, I’m soon walking toward his building as the city of Montreal awakens around me.

He answers the door in only a green tank top. At only 51 kg, he has no body fat, but a great body nonetheless. He is not overly thin, and I can see tight bulges on his arms marking cute biceps. He flashes me a sleepy smile as I come in. “Leave your shoes on if you want,” he says and stumbles back into his large studio apartment. The hardwood floor is brightly lit by the morning sun.

Tired, he walks zombie like and falls onto a black leather couch. “Sorry I just got up,” he says. “What would you like to do?”

I stare at his cock, cut and still sporting his morning wood. “If you don’t mind, we can get right to it.”

“Knock yourself out.” He spreads his knees, rests his head back on the couch and closes his eyes.

His balls are beautiful like a firm round softball sitting under his small cut cock. I slide my tongue under them, lift them off the salty couch leather, and massage them. His member pokes the bridge of my nose. When I engulf him in my warm softness, he moans and runs his hand through my hair. He is waking up now.

“How about you lay down, and I’ll get on top?” He asks.

“Sure! That’s kind of my favourite position.” I take the opportunity to strip and show him my new underwear.

“Where’d you get them?” he asks.

I tell him, but he balks at the price. I get onto his bed and kneels beside me. He reaches over and stuffs some gray pillows under my head.

Then he flips a leg over and towers over me, looking down. I run my hands up his legs and over his body, enjoying the smooth feeling.

“Suck my balls,” he orders. I open up and he lowers himself in. The the skin is soft and I mouth them, squeezing his testes gently between my lips. He gasps.

I watch his face as he grabs a small brown vial from the nightstand, opens it and sniffs it. Instantly he relaxes, moans, and lets down his weight.

“You like my balls, huh? It feels so good.” He jams his nuts into my mouth so hard I can feel the tendons under them pressing against my jaw. I chew them, suck them, licking off all of the delicious flavour while he takes another hit of alkyl nitrite.

He tosses the spent vial into his blankets, then falls forward over my face. All I can see are his rippling abs curving overhead. His balls pull away, and his penis, shiny and pink, juts millimetres from my lips. I’m anxious to take it.

With a thrust of his hips, he obliges, and I feel his cock slide into my mouth. “You’re a great cocksucker,” he moans.

He fucks me, and I raise my eyes, tilt my head back to get a look at his face. Resting on his elbows, he grips the pillow in his fists, like a panther clutching a doomed rabbit. He stares back into my eyes, enjoying the sight of his own his dick invading me. His slight size means I can breathe comfortably and I reward him by moving my tongue in the swallowing motion I’ve perfected.

He pulls out and raises his body up again, staring down at me in ecstatic wonderment. “Yeah chew on my balls.” Again he teabags me, enjoying the feeling of his balls being serviced. I moan at him to express my pleasure.

He grabs his dick and shoves it in my mouth, gives a quick thrust of his hips and jabs it in deep. “You like that, huh?” He thrusts again. “You like it when I fuck your mouth?”

“Mmmm hmmm” I answer.

“What’s that? You want it HARDer?” He stabs it so hard my lips feel bruised against his unpadded bones.

“Oh man, fuck that’s good.” Thrust. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and slowly let’s it out. “uuuuhh… yeah… I’m soooo close!”

He plants his hands behind my head, holds me in place, and starts to mouth fuck me quickly. “Oh fuck, oh man on fuck… I’m gonna cum I hope you want it oh fuck!”

He slams into me full on and I feel the syrupy thickness erupt into my throat. He holds me there, and I learn the secret of his firm balls as their contents fills me. He tilts his head and stares at me grinning while I struggle to gulp down his impossibly large load. At last he lifts his knee of my chest and settles back beside me on his haunches, completely drained.

“That was so good,” I tell him. “Thanks I’m glad to meet you.”

“Yeah me too. How long are you here for?”

“I’ll be here the test of the week,” I smile putting on my sandals. “Maybe we can do it again? If you want..” I add hopefully.

“I’d like that,” he says, falling into the pile of pillows. “I’m probably gonna go back to sleep now though.”

I make my own way out, glad to have met this guy, and take the metro back to my hotel for breakfast. He became my Montreal morning routine for the rest of the trip.

His Fantasy

It’s my last night in Toronto and I’m eager to get out after a hard day of business tripping. I step out of my hotel and just walk, aimlessly, joyfully, as the setting sun paints the metallic towers and sidewalks gold.

I’ve had enough fun the past two days for a while. But when my Android buzzes I can’t help looking. This time, it’s Jack’d. Back in University Town the app is populated by the same 28 guys. Here, the grid is full of exciting possibilities.

His profile says he’s Filipino, and the 21 year old’s mysterious smile is hooded by a nearly invisible moustache. I send a quick greeting back and stuff my phone back into my tight jeans.

It’s dark now but Yonge street is awash in colour and the throngs still rush by with renewed restlessness.

I pass a delicious pizza place. Should I go in? I poke my head in and check the slices, taking a deep breath and smelling the doughy cheesiness. The owner looks at me expectantly, and I leave. What if there’s something better in the next corner? I can’t commit. I won’t know if this will quench my craving until I’ve checked out the other side. I’ve made that mistake before.

My phone keeps buzzing and I respond automatically, not really paying attention. Face pic? Sure here you go, unlocked for u. My stories are making you horny? Great to hear, and hey they’re fun to write lol. You have a car? Well that’s nice but I have a hotel room, much more fun. Lol haha and fuck he’s gonna be knocking at my door in 40 minutes.

When I finally look up, the people are gone and all around me are steely dark office buildings. Belly rumbling and full of butterflies, I let Google be my guide through the darkness.

On the way, I pick up a Starbucks to keep me going.

I make it back to my room in time to throw some water on my face and pick my socks off the floor before he knocks. Heart racing, I take a deep breath, smile and open the door.

He matches his picture. He stands in the hallway looking a little nervous.

“Come in,” I say, beaming. “I’m glad you could make it! Make yourself at home.”

He takes off his shoes and soon he’s standing in front of my bed, wearing nothing but a shirt, right red boxer briefs, and a hard on.

“Is this where it happened?” He asks, referring to my last story.

“Yeah, right here on the bed, he was watching TV for a while.” I tell him.

He’s a little shy. I smile and try to make him as comfortable as I can. “So, what were you thinking of doing today?” I run my hands over his tan legs.,

His eyes meet mine. “I’ve always wanted to cum in a guy’s mouth. But I’ve never found anyone with enough patience.”

“I’m glad you found me then.” My hands move to the thin cloth holding in his erection. I slowly stroke it, feeling it’s length. It yearns to spring out.

He relaxes and spreads his legs, and I finally gaze into his eyes. “Do you make out?” He asks.

I notice his lips are soft and thick. His skin was so smooth and soft. I lean over him, touch his lips with my finger, parting them slightly. I’m drawn to them.

I can feel his hot breath through his nose as we kiss. I’m aware that I have coffee breath but he doesn’t seem to mind. My hands make it down into his briefs and I wrap my fingers around his penis. When released from its fabric confines, it springs up, and he playfully bites into my lip. While our tongues fight for dominance I stroked him slowly along his length.

He’s breathing fast now through his nose as I end our long kiss. I lay back on the pillow beside him to have a look at my prize in hand. He’s cut. That’s all I have time to gather before he swings his leg over and gets on top of me, straddling my belly.

When grasps my shoulders and pulls himself up, I rejoice. He has been reading my stuff! I get comfortable against the headboard and open wide. He looks down at me, straight into my eyes as he carefully presses his dick into my waiting mouth. He thrusts gently at first, and I feel his perfectly sized dick squeezing toward my throat, teasing it but not cutting off my air. Size matters. I could do this forever.

Too soon he stops, moves away down over my legs. I follow the cock, eager to fill the void in my mouth. He sits on the bed and I lick his balls, moving further and further down, until I’m tonguing his smooth hole. He holds onto his knees and enjoys it.

“Sit on my face,” I tell him. I shuffle to the middle of the bed and lay face up, expecting him to settle over me. He does, but unlike the two men who have done so before, he faces my feet. Looking down his back, he gingerly lowers his ass over my face. I lick him earnestly, enjoying watching the reactions in his face.

He turns away, and I feel his hands reaching inside my pants, pulling out my own penis and stroking.

But we both know what he’s there for. Soon I’m chest down in front of him again as he lays back on the pillow.

“Do you have any porn on that TV?” He asks.

“No sorry – want to use my laptop?”

“It’s fine, I’ve got my phone.” He swipes a few times and soon, holding the phone with one hand, stares into some fantastic scene while I suck on him.

He moves his other hand to his penis, pushing me aside as he begins to stroke himself. Firmly, I take his hand and chastise him. “Patience! We have lots of time.”

I’m able to get him all the way into my throat, comfortably, and still breathe. Soon, I try some things I’ve never done. I make a wave with my tongue, sliding along the underside while swallowing, and he suddenly gasps. “Oh yeah keep doing that,” he says. His phone dangles unseen in his hand.

Gladly! I feel like I could suck his dick forever. I show him my excitement by repeating the movement, improving it with practice. All the while he moans delightfully. His hand restlessly squeezes his inner thigh, clearly unadapted to being so useless during such pleasure.

His other hand holds his phone out in front of him, but his eyes are closed. When he cums, it is unannounced. His chest arches to the ceiling and his pelvis thrusts up, trying to impale. With a gasp, his sperm gushes thickly through my closed lips, six, seven, eight spurts joining together into a delicous wad that fills my mouth. A moment later he makes a sound between a laugh and a cry of pain and jerks his body away from me. It’s over. His few raw nerves that remain, having been cut away at birth, leave no transition between the ecstasy of release and the pain thereafter. I glide his load around my mouth and swallow it thickly.

He leaves quickly, as one should, after uttering his heartfelt thanks. Me? I feel great. The tiredness of the day is gone.

It’s late now and my belly growls, so I order some cake from room service. It comes on a square plate, gooey with salted caramel. I decide to have my cake in bed, and I eat it slowly while I chat with my wife about our kids’ days on Facebook.

The Chase

The lobby of the Toronto Sheraton is ostentatious blend of redwood pillars and polished granite. At midday, suited business travellers either stride purposefully through it, or sit sipping Starbucks lattes and read on their phones while they wait for their comrades to arrive.

Me? I’m just looking for the bathroom. “On the second floor, at the top of the escalator. See you at 12,” my lunchtime appointment had told me.

“Can you send a face pic please?”

There was no response, so I’m waiting, feeling conspicuous, as I lean over the polished chrome railing. I carefully watch the the people below me from my perch on the second floor mezzanine, looking for some sign of him. A few meters away, a constant stream of well dressed men emerge from the conference centre hallways and push open the white door to the men’s room. Although there’s a lot of activity, it could still work in theory. I had inspected the facilities earlier. The stalls were fully enclosed.

It’s 12:10 and nobody’s approached me. I wish he’d sent that face pic.

“Am I in the right building?” I text. I’m convinced everyone is watching me as I take and send him a picture of the restroom door.

“I’m in the washrooms there. But I’m coming out. It’s too busy. We’ll find another.”

“OK”

“Just follow me discreetly.”

“What do you look like?????!”

“I’m wearing blue. Asian guy with glasses.”

Dropping all pretence, I stand there and watch the door. A group of five asian men wearing blue with glasses walk out. None of them even glance at me, but soon after, a young guy wearing an off-white dress shirt darts ahead and speed-walks away. I jog after him as I try to get a closer look. Did he have glasses? His shirt’s a little blue, maybe, if you look at it under the right light.

I jog until I’m close enough then break into a fast walk, but he charges on ahead down the hall and rounds a corner. Shit, a meeting room empties, and he’s lost in the crowd. I’m blocked by a throng of suited, silver-haired executives as they shake each-other’s hands and rape the refreshment table. The shortest of the men is six feet tall.

“Oh, excuse me,” one says as I brush past him. “Sorry, sir,” a smiling septuagenarian apologizes after I elbow him in the groin. Did I mention I’m in Canada?

Thankfully the narrow hallway turns right, and I emerge into the great hall. I look around quickly, but I don’t see my quarry anywhere. Fuck! He’s probably the wrong guy. Why the hell didn’t he send that face picture??

I see some bathrooms to my right, but I decide to keep looking for him. The great hall is filled with people and refreshment carts. I make my way across the gold carpet to the other side. That’s when I see him, sitting on a bench, hunched over his phone.

I get as close as I can, but I can’t see what’s on his phone. Instead, I stand on the other side of a column and check mine. There’s a message waiting.

“Follow me into the washrooms.”

I have no idea when it was sent. Is this text leftover from before, or could he be watching me right now? My heart races as I text him again.

“Are you the guy sitting down?”

“Yeah.”

“Lol.”

“Ok let’s try to go straight to those washrooms.”

The young man on the bench stuffs his iPhone in his dress pants, gets up, and bolts across the room. I don’t bother being inconspicuous this time. I speed walk right behind him. I can’t let him get away again, because frankly, it would be embarrassing. This is supposed to be a hookup, not Mission Impossible.

Suddenly a man in a tie darts out in front of him and slaps him on the shoulder. “Hey John! You’re always in a hurry,” he chuckles. He stands there with his arm out, confused, as we keep going.

At last, we both enter the washroom. This one is less populated at the moment. Without even looking at me, he heads to the last stall and closes the polished wooden door. I hear it latch shut. I pretend to use the urinal as I wait for a Gordon Gecko lookalike to leave. True to character, he pisses, straightens his tie in the mirror, and walks right out the door.

Uncertainty overwhelms me again. Maybe I was texting the wrong guy back there. All I had were the texts. The man I’ve been following hadn’t even acknowledged me once since we started.

But then, he had gone from one bathroom to another. Buoyed by this tiny piece of logic, I take a deep breath and knock quietly on the stall.

The door unlatches and he lets me in. At last, we are alone. I sit on the toilet and look up. Finally, I get to see my hookup’s face. He’s twenty-one, and his slightly-blue dress shirt’s too big for him. He raises his finger to his lips and signals for me to not speak. Then he lets down his pants. I pull down his grey boxer briefs and unleash his cock.

His dick was the only picture he sent me, and it was enough to start me on this hotel chase. His balls are large and perfectly smooth, and his cock is thick and straight. It feels comfortable in my mouth, like it belongs there.

While I suck, he leans forward and keeps looking through the crack in the door. I’m focused on my job, but find it is difficult to do without making it obvious to everyone in the room that there’s a wet, smacking blowjob going from the next stall. The conditions are hard, but the thrill makes up for it.

That is, until I hear a loud voice right outside our door.

“OKAY GUYS. GAME’S OVER.”

We both freeze and try to peek through the crack in the door. I can see a man’s face outside. Time stops, the hairs on the back of my neck levitate and I want to be anywhere but here, but there’s nowhere to go.

Another voice answers.

“Looks that way. I’m going to shoot Michael an email about the PDP.”

I breath a sigh of relief. We’re free to continue, but he’s deflated. I start from scratch.

Eventually, though all the toilet flushes and listening to backroom deals, I manage to coax out his load. After he zips up, we whisper to each-other. He might visit University Town soon. It would be nice to show him what I can do when I don’t have to be utterly silent.

But today, the thrill was in the chase.