One always hopes that travel away from home will bring will bring new and exotic adventures, but reality rarely lives up to imagination. This is especially the case with business travel, which is how I found myself staying overnight just an hour or so away from home in a mediocre hotel. I was away for a brief conference and quickly experienced the boredom and tedium of life in an unfamiliar city. After my meetings for the day, I retired to the hotel and eventually made my way to a nondescript restaurant within walking distance to my room for dinner. I did what people do when on their own. I sat at the bar to order my food and washed it down with a drink while mindlessly staring at the TV mounted behind the bar.
Throughout the day and during dinner I stayed in contact with my wife by text, lamenting the dullness of the trip and frequently mentioning my desire to be home with her. We’d recently experienced a thrilling evening with another couple that was still fresh in our minds and the topic of much conversation. On that evening I’d witnessed Lillian, my wife, lose herself in a secret moment of passion with another man. I’d had my moments of discomfort and jealousy soon after, but the thrill soon returned, and we shared our enjoyment of the experience and fantasies about what may come next.
I’d even gone as far as writing up the experience in an erotic story I titled “Rear Window” and posted to a website that provided a forum for people with like fantasies to share and enjoy such stories. Time and honesty had left us in a good place with our sexual excitement and desire, and sharing the story was a good way for me to heighten the exhilaration by knowing the experience would turn on others as well.
An additional benefit had come from discussing with Lillian the other member profiles I’d viewed on the site. I unexpectedly found myself thrilled by some of the men who set up profiles and posted pictures of themselves. I’ve never considered myself to be gay or even strictly bisexual, but I nevertheless appreciated the possible thrills of the male body, especially those who possessed a certain look. Over the years I had gradually confessed this attraction to Lillian. She confirmed my love and appreciation of her soul by being understanding and encouraging of my personal sexual exploration. When I mentioned that a paid subscription to the site was necessary to directly connect with other members, she whipped out the credit card and urged me to follow my curiosity. So far, that hadn’t yielded much. I was timid and unsure of how to move forward, and, as a result, somewhat stuck waiting for others to “make the first move”.
As I sat finishing my dinner at the bar and ordered a second drink, I sent Lillian a message that I’d likely turn in early that evening. She replied that it was probably a good idea, though I should check for any new “messages” before going to sleep. I know she was joking, but it was meant to be encouraging and I appreciated her words. I was just thinking of pulling up the website on my phone when I became aware of a large group of people leaving a table on the other side of the bar area. I casually glanced up to look, and was about to return to my drink when I noticed one guy with the group. There was immediately something familiar about him, and I found myself staring as I tried to place him. Then it came to me. This was a guy I saw almost every day at my gym back home. Here I was, an hour away from anything familiar and feeling like the last man on earth, seeing someone I typically saw five days a week!
I placed him in his early to mid-thirties, about ten years younger than myself. He was a few inches taller than me, which, given my five-foot-six-inch frame didn’t make him overly tall. He had a pleasant face framed by longish blond hair and a sandy-colored beard. He had a trim, athletic build with a narrow waist, trim but muscular arms and chest, and well-defined shoulders. I normally wouldn’t be able to describe a stranger in such detail, but when you work out next to someone for a year, the details begin to stick. More than that, he seemed laid-back and friendly. He was dressed casually in jeans and a loose button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His appearance and demeanor all suggested someone comfortable and confident.
My “why-do-I-know-you” stare must have been felt, because he glanced up as he began to walk by the bar and immediately noticed me. Evidently, he paid attention at the gym as well. He tiled his head to the side and smiled in a gesture that said I was recognized. My seat at the bar wasn’t far out of his way to the exit, so he walked over and leaned on the chair next to mine as we exchanged one of those conversations reserved for people who know someone by sight but not name. He introduced himself as Glen and said he was also in town for business. He was a civil engineer that worked for the county where we both lived, in town to learn about projects the state would be funding in our area. I described my own business and mentioned he was fortunate to be traveling with a group. Glen dismissed this by indicating he was out dining with casual acquaintances from his profession but no one he personally knew.
I figured the only thing to do in this situation was invite him to take the empty seat and order a beer. He spent little time debating the invitation, sat down, and grabbed the bartender’s attention. I myself was finishing dinner with an expensive whiskey on the rocks, and Glen decided he would try the same. I’m not great at small talk, and had a moment of apprehension thinking I’d made a mistake and invited embarrassment. But Glen proved an easy conversationalist and we moved smoothly from talk of our workout to more personal exchanges. I described Lillian and her work, and Glen told me about the girl he’d been dating for the past year. After another round of drinks, we laughed more easily and the conversation grew more comfortable.
Glen rose to use the restroom and I checked my phone to discover Lillian had messaged me asking if I was back in my room yet. I told her of the chance meeting and described my conversation with Glen. She jokingly replied that I evidently didn’t need a website membership to meet men, to which I responded with a sarcastic emoji. It was likely meant as an innocent comment, but I felt myself flush at the notion. I hadn’t considered the conversation more than a casual meeting, but the drinks and Lillian’s reference to my online interests instantly conjured new images in my mind. I shook this off and reminded myself that Glen was just being friendly. I could explore other ideas later on my own.
Glen returned to the bar and I asked if he was up for another round or if he would prefer to call it a night. He responded that he could always go for more, but that he tended to cut himself off at bars because of the price. He was young in his career and on a budget. I said that made complete sense and I was content with what I’d had. But, as we settled our tabs, Glen pointed out that he traveled with a pint of a less expensive but still serviceable whisky in his bag. If I was interested, he was happy to open it and share. His travel bag was in his car out in the restaurant parking lot, and I pointed out that my hotel room was a short walk away. We agreed on the plan and left the restaurant.
As we walked outside, I found myself suddenly wondering about both my own motivation and his. My exploration of the erotic story website had taught me how many more people in this world shared my own curiosities and fantasies. That meant that possibilities could be around any corner. I surreptitiously glanced at Glen as he retrieved the whiskey from his car and wondered again what he might be thinking. Most likely he was simply used to casually meeting new people and had no interest in me beyond that. Still, a new heaviness in my body caused my heart to race a little faster. I reminded myself to be calm and make no assumptions.
Lillian was a different story. As we walked toward my hotel, I sent her a message explaining what was happening. Her reply this time was less sarcastic. She asked if I thought “something” was about to happen, and I said of course not. Whatever fantasies I’d explored concerning another man, I never expected to actually experience anything of the sort. She replied that I should make no assumptions. Guys, she said, rarely brought alcohol into a stranger’s hotel room just to watch TV. I had to concede that point, and asked what she thought I should do. Her reply, followed by a wink, simply stated that, whatever happened, she wanted a picture.
Glen and I stopped for ice and soon arrived at my room. Drinks were poured, and we pulled up chairs to sit across from one another and continue our conversation. We continued to chat about our personal lives, telling stories that brought laughs, more so as the level in the bottle diminished. He related a story about a colleague who got in serious trouble on a similar trip for charging hotel room porn to the company credit card. I asked why someone would pay for it when so much good material was free online. He agreed and mentioned that his personal favorite adult entertainment was the variety of stories all over the web.
This was an opening I couldn’t pass. I took a breath and, casually as possible, mentioned I had just written one and put it online. He seemed surprised and asked about the subject. I gave him a brief outline, that it was about watching my wife with another man through a window in our house. He asked if it was true or just fantasy and, after a quick internal debate, I confessed it to be true. Glen said he’d love to read it if I wouldn’t mind, and I reminded him it was online for absolutely anyone to see. I directed him to the website and gave him the title, and he began searching on his phone, apparently eager to start reading.
I picked up my own phone and messaged Lillian that he was reading my story. She came back quickly asking if I were serious. I made sure the sound was silenced on my phone and took a covert picture of Glen sitting across from me staring intently at his phone. Lillian replied that she thought he was very good-looking, and that I had a real opportunity on my hands. I was still unsure about that, but I nevertheless asked her what to do next. She then asked me what happens when I read stories like that myself, and I took her meaning right away. I glanced up at Glen and saw him engrossed in the story, phone in one hand and the other resting on his lap. I looked more closely and noticed a bulge lengthening in his jeans. As I stared, his free hand drifted that way and pressed against the increasing hardness in his pants. The sight caused my own cock to stiffen and required me to shift a little to allow myself room for the length of it to stretch out along my leg.
Mouth dry and heart pounding, I cleared my throat and asked Glen what he thought. He jumped a little at the sound of my voice and looked up smiling. He said he was actually reading it for the second time and doubted it would be the last time that evening. I decided to take the plunge and invited him to read it as many times as he liked if he was enjoying it, and to enjoy it in whatever way he liked. He thought this over for a moment before asking if I was reading one as well. I said I was, even though my phone was still open to my message thread with Lillian who was frantically asking me what was happening. I asked if he would mind me getting into the spirit of the story. He said not at all, and I began pulling on my belt, button, and zipper. Glen wasted little time doing the same. Soon I was freeing my fully erect cock and giving it an initial stroke. I looked over to see Glen’s own cock emerge from his open pants and paused what I was doing to admire the moment.
Personally, I bring the average six or so inches of length with a healthy girth that balances out a decent package. Glen, while maybe an inch longer, had considerably more girth than I possess. His cock was smooth and straight with a head that tended toward a point, and it was there he placed his hand and slowly began to move it down the shaft. I slowly caressed myself with my free hand while snapping a couple of seconds of video of Glen’s intense masturbation to send to Lillian. I wasn’t even pretending to read anymore, only staring at his gorgeous dick and debating how I was going to get it in my hand. I felt my phone buzz and looked down to see a picture of Lillian’s own hand buried in her underwear. She added the comment that she couldn’t help stroke herself after seeing such an impressive cock, and that I had to do something with it since she wasn’t there to do it herself.
At this point I looked up to see Glen staring at me, his own phone forgotten. His lips were parted as his breathing increased, and I knew this was my chance. I set my phone down, stood, walked to close the few steps between us, and sank to my knees. I had no real plan at this point other than to begin by fulfilling at least one fantasy—to wrap my hand around a firm, well-shaped cock. Glen’s knees parted slightly and I reached forward, putting my hand atop his. We stroked together for a moment before he pulled his hand away and leaned back as I took over. His skin was warm and smooth, and I took my time savoring the feeling of his rigidity. I lightly ran the tip of my thumb along the underside of his shaft before wrapping my hand around him fully again.
I was experiencing something in this moment I’d imagined for a long time, and it couldn’t have felt better or more inviting. For once I wasn’t overthinking my actions and simply allowed myself to be in the moment. I leaned in to allow myself a better angle, and as I did my own hot breath fell on his penis and Glen threw his head back in appreciation. Without stopping to consider, I moved my hand up near the head of his cock and leaned down to run my lips along the shaft near the base. His skin was soft and silky with a salty, musky scent. I let my tongue explore the length of him and reached the head with my mouth as my hand dropped to his balls. This was the part I’d nervously wondered about in the past, but I didn’t allow myself to hesitate. I opened my mouth and leaned my head down to take him inside me.
At first, I swirled my tongue around the tip and flicked it lightly. I then placed my tongue on the bottom and began to bob my head up and down, increasing the pressure with my mouth to stroke him with my lips. It became clear soon that Glen was becoming overwhelmed. I could hear his breath coming faster and felt his hips begin to move. I place my hands on either side of his hips and encouraged him to move as he wanted. He began fucking my mouth with his thrusts, and I moved my head accordingly to take him in as much as I could. I didn’t want to choke or lose the rhythm, and soon his motions began to pick up speed. I returned my right hand to stroke him while I sucked, and suddenly felt a new, slight sensation in my mouth. I sealed my lips tightly around him, opened my jaw to create space in my mouth, and pumped the shaft of his cock with my hand.
A flood of hot liquid erupted in my mouth, hitting the roof and back of my throat with a spray of his thick come. At first, I couldn’t taste anything and I concentrated on urging him with my tongue while continuing to stroke. The taste, when it hit me, was unlike anything I’d experienced. It was salty and slightly bitter, but not so much so that I was unable to handle it. The volume started to become an issue, and I instinctively swallowed a load as more poured in. As I tried to swallow again, my lips parted and much of his come, still hot from his own body and the temperature of my mouth, spilled out onto my chin and down the length of Glen’s cock. I resealed my lips around the head and licked the tip while slowly pumping him for the last drops, his come falling down both in and out of my hand.
When I swallowed again and finally released him from my mouth and leaned back, Glen lifted his head to stare at me. We both started to say something at the same time and both stopped, lost for words. We were both breathing heavily, and I suddenly realized my own hard cock was out and throbbing. I took it in my left hand unconsciously while my right remained wrapped around Glen. When he seemed to realize what I was doing, he leaned forward and brought himself out of his chair and onto the floor, kneeling in front of me. He took me in his own hand and stroked me slightly before shifting his body so he could bring my cock alongside his own. He was well-lubricated from my work moments before, making it easy to grasp both in one hand and begin to stroke them together.
I noticed immediately that he was getting hard again. It soon became obvious that keeping contact like this would be difficult with both of us upright. I felt myself leaning back and moved my legs out from under me to stretch out on the floor face-up. Glen shifted his legs between mine and leaned down. He was now leaning down over me, thrusting his hips forward to create friction between our two cocks. As I felt the warm, heavy weight of him slide against me, I felt my own eruption building between my legs. I began to lean harder against him and push faster. Glen was clearly in the same place. He brought his hand up and grasp our cocks again and stroked furiously.
I fortunately had the presence of mind to pull my shirt up to my chest because my orgasm let go from the muscles between my thighs, releasing the tension in my balls and my cock in a spray of my own hot come that sent warm jets along the underside of Glen’s cock and across my belly. Wave after wave seemed to release from my body as the tension slowly let go. Glen thrust forward once more and joined his stream of semen to my own. His first shot landed on my chest, and I had the brief thought that, had I not just moments before emptied him into my mouth, he would have likely made it all the way up to my face. He and I ground against one another as the last of our orgasms ebbed away, feeling the warm remains slide between us. I was nearly blind from the intensity of both my own orgasm and the immensity of pleasure I felt from handling Glen. He seemed nearly too stunned to breathe, and we both took a moment to settle our heartrates before even attempting to move.
Glen was finally able to regain his feet and fetched a towel from the bathroom to make an attempt at cleaning us both off. Once that was accomplished and our clothes were properly settled into place, I poured a small shot of whiskey for us both and told Glen I was glad he enjoyed the story. That broke some of the tension and we both laughed. I said this was my first time experiencing several things, and that I appreciated him being comfortable and accommodating. He responded that he enjoyed it and my company, and that he knew I probably wished to settle down on my own. His instincts were good, and we walked to the door together. I had an insane urge to shake his hand, which seemed ridiculous under the circumstances. Old habits are hard to break, I suppose. Instead, I simply said thank again and wished him a good night.
Glen left and I tidied up a bit more before sitting down to consider everything that had just happened. It was then I noticed my phone sitting where I had left it. I picked it up to discover nearly a dozen messages from Lillian, who was dying to know what happened. I smiled as I started to dial and describe my evening to her over the phone. My smile froze, though, as a sudden thought occurred to me. The following week I would be back home and at my gym. How would I deal with seeing Glen there? Would we avoid each other? Would we simply be friendly? Or had I just opened the door to something, not knowing where it would lead?
