Options

Another hotel – this one is in Toulouse. It’s some place I picked because I get points for staying there, and it was close enough to the airport that I didn’t need a car. That’s about it. Everywhere else is just some other building a place whose language I barely understand. It’s been a lot of road time for me these last few weeks, and it seems like I hardly ever get to sleep in my own bed. Most nights, it’s as simple as going upstairs and passing out, but this is not one of those nights. I’m out of sorts and bothered, and nothing is going right for me. I’m agitated. In short, it’s a vodka night.

I’m at the bar in a suit, no tie, and sipping on a cold glass. Each sip is punctuated with a long exhale, the chemical burn blasting out of my breath and into the empty space. It’s a ritual, really. The repetition and the pain start to bring a pace to my scattered thoughts. Some people work out…I drink vodka.

It’s my third glass when I finally have company at the bar, and he looks every bit as exhausted as me, his short silver hair is combed straight back and he’s about half a day overdue to shave. He waves to the bartender, and orders a vodka. 

“You too?” 

“Eh?” 

I point to my glass, and he replies with a weary smile. Yeah, him too.

Conversation starts. He’s older than me, but lower on the corporate ladder. Both of us have had way too much shit dumped on us lately, and our passports are the same color.

When all you have is vodka, this feels like a real connection.

The first pause in conversation hits, and his eyes swing around the empty hotel bar. “No women here.” He looks down at my wedding band, slightly embarrassed. In vodka veritas, right? 

“Yeah, I know. I have the privilege of permission and virtually no chance to use it.” He grunts.

“Lucky bastard.”

“You ever been married?” I ask.

“Nah…never liked a woman enough.” There’s an implication in the air.

“Guess it’s good to have options then.” What? Where did this come from? I take another sip of vodka. As he suddenly eyes me again.

“What does that mean?” I take a deep breath…this is in “major creep or best night ever” territory now. 

“It just means that my wife allows me to indulge in people, not just women.” I take a big sip of vodka. It tastes like courage. He takes a long breath, the implication hanging in the air.

“It would be good to have options.” 

“You do.” I reply. Another pause. I look at the bartender, who is at the end of the bar, very lost in thought. I wave at him. “Can I pay please? Room 408. His too.” 

The bill comes over and I sign it, and take one last sip, finishing my drink. I give my head a slight jerk, inviting him to join. Bottoms up, and we walk over to the elevator. 

In the elevator he starts to speak, “So…” I turn and grab him, kissing him, feeling his beard on my face. It’s a relief for me, to finally fill this craving I have carried for so many years. The elevator stops and we walk to 408. The door beeps, and we step inside. As the door closes behind he assaults me, kissing, and pushing my coat off. I suddenly realize where I am, what I’m about to do, and what barrier I am going to burst.

In for a pence, in for a pound…

My hand goes to his slacks, and i feel the erection in my hands, and his hands go to mine, my cock surging up to meet his touch. He pushes full length against me, and I can feel him pressed against me, and his throbbing in sync with mine. My hands go to his belt, tugging it open. As I pull his pants apart, his grow slightly still, letting me take the lead, no idea how foreign this land is to me. My fingers make their first touch on another’s man’s skin. His sharp exhale bleaches the doubt form my mind. I kneel. One last breath, and then I kiss it. Do I break in slowly, or…my tongue darts out under the underside and my mouth opens. In a flash my mouth is full. He twitches as my teeth graze the skin. Concentrate.

Another deep breath, this time his scent fills my nostrils. My jaw opens and my lips close, and my breath draws in as I start to suck. His caught breath rushes out in a groan and his fingers delicately go through my hair. I start to work my head up and down, getting used to this new sensation. Almost unconsciously, my hand is moving along the rest of his shaft. As I start to get into it, the recorder in my brain flips on. My first cock – MY first cock. I want to remember this. As I start to think more about what I do I feel his tension rising, his voice coming out. I realize what is happening only as feel him spurt in my mouth. I’m struggling to swallow without closing my jaw…it’s so much. The taste…

I’m only starting to appreciate it when he is already fading, his breath heaving. I take a last swallow, trying to empty my mouth, trying to accept this. He looks down at me, his face contorted in a weary smile. I smile back, as I get up and start backing onto the bed…