“Elise just called,” I told my husband as I rounded into the spare bedroom he uses for an office. Since I retired I’ve offered him the study a million times; he always refuses and says he prefers his more secluded space than the big bright study on the front of the house which is my domain.
Kent looked up from his laptop and as always he took my breath away. With a dick-straightening grin he said, “And after you two caught-up she said Ron wanted to say hi; and now you’re doing some work for them.”
“That pretty much sums it up,” I told him with resignation and flopped into one of the very beautiful and very trendy retro easy chairs he had in his small spare bedroom turned office.
Kent got up and moved to the other easy chair. “You know I have a good week on this engagement I’m working; but if I had a couple three days without distraction I could knock it out.” He rubbed his dick.
We were both naked; we always were at home. In the closet he kept a selection of very becoming button-up shirt for Zoom calls. I did the same in my study but I also had shorts; call me more cautious. Also my study is closer to the front door. But him rubbing his growing dick made clear what the distractions were he alluded to: me!
“Where is it? I could fly out from here and meet you Saturday morning; Friday night if it’s close.”
“Miami,” I told him and his eyes lit up. Kent loves Miami, Coral Gables, Miami Beach …
“I hope you told him ‘yes’ and I hope he’s paying you a shit-ton of money.”
“As I recall this job you’ve got going with Barrons is paying a shit-ton for yourself,” I told him, remembering well the fantastic amount he’d negotiated to again do a job for a financial group he didn’t enjoy working for.
“How long?” Kent asked. Then he followed it up with a sad look. “Not that it matters with … “
I’d put my hand on his hairy knee and stopped him. It was still rough for us with our best friend having passed away. Without Sasha bounding about the house hadn’t been the same. The only silver lining was the long trip we had scheduled to Australia and New Zealand in the fall.
“It could be through August into September,” I told him and his eyes narrowed. “I know; we leave at the end of September.”
“I was just thinking about all the fun we’ll have in Miami for a couple of months!” Kent said now grinning again. His dick was growing too.
“Uh I can see that!” I said with a roll of my eyes. “And about that money? It’ll pay for our entire trip down under, after taxes …three or four times over.” Eyes wide Kent pursed his irresistible lips and whistled “Why don’t you put those lips to better use?” I said with a naughty grin.
He laughed and leaned over and kissed me. It was settled … and his finishing of his white paper was delayed for a couple of hours while we enjoyed each other for the last time we’d be able to until Saturday. It was after our second fuck when I’d feasted on his sweaty hairy hole and then flipped him and was about to return the favor and fuck him that Kent got serious. “Enjoy yourself Al. You know what I’m telling you; just remember to tell me every dirty detail when I get there!”
That’s how I came to be sweating my ass off despite fans at an outdoor dining table in South Beach that evening. I honestly didn’t pay a lot of attention to the oppressive July heat and humidity; the heart meds I took made the heat very welcome as I was cold all the time.
A stunningly handsome man I assumed to be Cuban pleasantly interrupted my gazing at the variants of studs and other humanity that passed on Ocean Drive. I looked up at this tall and broad-shouldered sculpture of a stud. “Good evening,” I said before he’d said anything.
“Good evening Mister Sherbourne” he replied.
I was surprised and showed it. “I am clearly at the disadvantage,” I said warily.
“I’m your concierge at Loews; Gil. I made this reservation for you,” he answered.
“Good memory,” I told him. “You must see hundreds of guests every day.”
“I do. And I remember the handsome ones; I particularly remember the sexy ones,” he brazenly answered. “I remember you and your sexy husband in April twenty-twenty-two too.” We’d splurged on a for-real-retirement trip when I’d finally actually done it.
I held up my left hand and waved my wedding ring at him. “I’m still … “
“Dining alone; at least only until I arrived if I’m lucky,” he said. “And I do recall two years ago that one of my lucky acquaintances met you and that sexy husband in a … club and greeted the sunrise with you from your ocean-front suite,” he brazenly continued. “May I?” he asked and gestured to the empty chair across my small table. Damn indiscreet SoBe stud, I thought.
“First show me your ass!” I ordered in a very firm voice but quieter voice to avoid the attention of nearby diners. Any high ground I had was illusory and now we were posturing.
He smiled and straightened his posture. Then he turned slowly around and pointed down Ocean Drive. With his very ogle-worthy bubble butt in my field of vision he said loudly, “Just a block in that direction,” and pointed. He looked around at at me for response and my eyes finally left his very appealing ass.
“Join me?” I offered and gestured to the empty chair with a smile of my own.
And thus I found myself in this young stud’s very well-appointed ocean-front apartment after a post-dinner walk.
Gil had pinned me to his elevator’s wall on the ascent and had leaned in and waited with his lips separated from mine by less than an inch; I accepted the invitation and clasped the back of his neck, pulled him against me, and left him panting when the slow elevator made the top floor. “Wow!” was my reward along with a shy smile.
“Mmmmmm,” I agreed and hoped nobody was in the hallway to see my obscene tent at my crotch.
He told me on the short walk to his door that he was recently tested, clear, and had not had sex since three weeks before the test; that surprised me and he sensed it. “I have a patron (he pronounced in the proper Spanish way like the tequila) who is not into the sex but is into possession. I rarely push the limits of our agreement. You are a worthy transgression.”
I’d already seen the building, the doorman, even the halls and elevator were opulent. The “patron” explained that and the opulent apartment when we entered; I thought about whistling but I can’t whistle like a college stud like my husband.
I was flattered for the “worthy” comment and said so looking the much younger stud over. Gil was magnificent … and still clothed. His hard body against mine in the elevator was every bit as arresting as the formidable ass, packed crotch, and Cristiano Renaldo looks. His very manly scent was icing; and I wanted a piece of that cake.
Without hesitation he walked through to a large master suite and turned by the bed. He pulled his expensive button-front printed shirt over his head and cast it down like refuse. His chest could have sold-out any muscle, fitness, or porn magazine; the very dark fur over medium-dark skin over mounds of muscle was the perfect fodder for a romance novel cover.
I stood facing him near enough to inhale his heady stronger scent now with the shirt gone. I slowly unbuttoned my own shirt. “I must tell you that my upper body is not appealing like yours Gil. I understand if you … “
He stepped to me and shushed me with his long thick fingers on my lips; with his other hand he pushed my shirt back and off my shoulders and let it fall. He stepped back to arms length with his one hand now caressing my neck and his other hand slowly running from the top of my “racing stripe” as I call it to the bottom. After a pause he moved those fingers down my the last of my abs to my waist and brought his other hand to unbutton and unzip my slacks. His eyes widened when he saw I was wearing a jock-strap. “Not only guapo but macho!” he said and ran his hand over my very distended pouch; then he took hold.
I was humbled by his comment and by his interest in me; the absence of the d-word (daddy) was in my mind like a bubble ready to burst. As he grasped my throbbing shaft and his hand caused my slacks to fall he leaned in and kissed my thoracic surgeries’ scars and kept kissing them up and down.
I found myself bucking into his grip and clasping my hands in his thick black hair to hold his lips against my skin. Eventually I guided him to his knees and his face replaced his hand against my distorted pouch. His hands found my hairy ass and legs and slowly felt me up as he rubbed his face against my hard-on and chewed on my shaft and head through the stretchy pouch fabric.
I could have been tearing out his thick hair so strong and desperate was my grip on him. I released it when I was aware of the force and he abruptly pulled away and looked up at me. “Me gusta Al,” he said with eyes smoldering and pulled my hands back to his head with his and he went back to worshipping my dick. I resumed my grip, he moaned, and he redoubled his facial adoration of my pouch.
“Take it off me. Please,” I told him huskily.
Gil took hold of the wide waist-band of my traditional jock but held it and looked up at me. “Al if I take you inside my mouth I will not stop without your leche. You will still fuck me?” he asked.
“I might need some time to recover but oh yes I will most definitely fuck you Gil,” I answered honestly.
“My luck that it will last then,” he said with a fully naughty grin. And he released my hard-on and went to work.
It wasn’t gentlemanly to have him still inside his pants while working me to a (much needed) release when we’d come here for some mutual play. But I face-fucked and throat-fucked him without holding back; he was a pro without question.
Gil was not only skilled he was also sloppy and loud; both of those were working-up my load in my balls. If he had known to grab and pull my balls I would have already dumped my ball-load in those few minutes. “You’re so big!” he complimented me when he took a sudden break.
I took the opportunity to step back and control myself by metering my breathing; I’d literally been one of his slurps away from blowing my load and wasn’t entirely certain I wouldn’t still. “Get. Naked.” I panted and backed away more when he tried to retrieve my bobbing hard-on.
“I really wanted that wad,” he pouted. “Necesito leche papi,” he feigned a whine.
There it was; the dreaded “daddy” I really hated. “I’m twice your fucking age! You can go four or five times tonight; I may have only one,” I lashed him with my words.
Meanwhile the hunky young man had unbuttoned his very form-fitted slacks and was pushing them down his muscular thighs. He was commando and his long veiny dick was being revealed inch-by-inch-by-inch-by-inch-by-inch and yet no sign of his fat head; I knew it was fat from the protrusion in his heavy khaki fabric. I watched mesmerized as his dark-furred muscular thighs were revealed like a banquet to a starving man. And then finally like a beast freed his thick head popped out and his entire thick shaft sprung forward.
“Nice one,” I nearly whistled and my hole twitched.
He took hold of my throbbing rod and squeezed. “Mine’s no papi slab like this but I’m glad you like it.”
“My turn!” I told him and scrabled to engulf him in my salivating mouth. It was thick throughout and the heavy veins on my tongue reminded me of a junior version of my husband’s. The taste was completely different of course; and not solely because he tasted of a long day and maybe a workout following it. In other words delicious.
“Fuuuuuuuuuck!” he groaned when I had his big knob in my throat. “Not many can do that Al!”
I was gratified to leave papi/daddy and return to my name. I showed it by taking his dick even deeper. “OH FUCK! You could make me cum right now!” he moaned and pushed on my head as if to push me off. The gesture lacked commitment; it didn’t matter because I was intent on taking his first sperm-load that way and my grip on his boy balls was thus firm and unyielding.
I sucked hard and fully and swallowed each time his head breached my throat. I hummed around it when swallowed and he squirmed and cursed in Spanish. He was by then no longer pushing me away; he was pulling and pounding. With a final loss of rhythm and much trembling he finally let out a loud cry and I felt that big dick pulse.
The first hard shot of his juice hit my throat opening at the back and I felt it run down my throat. I wanted the flavor of him and pulled off enough to suck his head aggressively and was rewarded with several thick blasts and then lesser pulses that left my mouth so full a cock-sucker of lesser experience might have made a mess. The taste was medium strong and the consistency was plenty thick; my balls churned and buzzed with the excitement of it.
I suddenly came off him with my mouth still full and spun him around before he knew what was happening. I pushed him over at the waist with one hand and had my face in his crack immediately. “Oh ay!” he cried as I shoved my tongue in his musky hole and then spit his lid into it. “Ay Al oh my god!” he cried and I heard him slap the wall or a table with his hand. I just kept tonguing that delicious ass; if only Uber Eats delivered musky ass with strong cum sauce!
He not-slowly escalated from “Ay dios!” to “Mete la polla!” to “Por dios mete su verga señor!” I looked it up later but I admit that the “señor” got me at the time and I gave him what he wanted.
His hole wasn’t slack but it was receptive. After an initial shove I continued until half of me was inside. “Fuck man you are big!” he growled without a hint of his Cuban accent … just like he’d spoken at the concierge desk. He was panting and very tightly clamped around me; but he surprised me when he pushed back hard and took another quarter of me. “I want all of it!” he again said without the accent.
I slammed the last two inches into him and he grunted when my hairy groin slapped his smooth brown ass. “Yeah papi! Now fuck me hard and do not stop until your leche joins mine you spit inside mi culo!”
It’s impossible to describe the mix and slip between accents; incongruously at the moment I remembered Madonna’s quixotic British accent when she was Mrs. Richie. It certainly wasn’t for lack of interest in Gil’s jock-butt.
“Fuck me!” he yelled and began to fuck himself on me in frustration. I guess that mental trip off topic was longer than I thought.
He was still very tight but he obviously wanted it so I gave it to him. Without any ramp-up I went straight to long merciless pounding with each pull stretching his hole and threatening to pull my throbbing head free. His cries went back and forth in and out of Spanish and English until they weren’t words at all any more. His hole never got looser and my climax built in a shorter time than usual because he’d already had me there earlier and by then his sweat got stronger in the air and had my head spinning.
“You want it deep inside you?” I snarled.
“Please Al. Quiero su leche!” he moaned with the first intelligible words in a while.
“Milk it out of me. I’m close,” I told him as I grunted through the relentless pumping of his depths.
He grunted loud and I felt the tightness increase. His long grunts were echoed by pressure which increased the already verging on impossible heat from the friction. With a score more thrusts I was grunting through my own explosive tumble over the edge; my dick pumped the big load my balls ejected and each pump was matched with an affirming cry from Gil as if he felt it inside him.
I collapsed onto his sweaty back and we both heaved breaths. I reached around him once I was coherent enough to do so and felt for his dick thinking I would get him off. “I came again,” he sighed. “Sin manos. Without touching. That was intense.” Another mixture of accents and languages. But I was surprised I hadn’t known.
We disengaged and his hole allowed a large plop of our mixed loads from his stretched hole. “Hurts more coming out,” he said with a laugh. I saw when he turned that the bed he’d been bent over was splattered and dripping to the floor as well; he really had cum again and I hadn’t known. I realized I’d doubted his honesty.
Gil had turned and was facing me. “Kiss?” he asked.
Honestly I would have preferred not but the guy just did let me fuck him. Apparently my hesitation was his answer.
He stepped away and climbed up and flopped onto the bed. “‘S okay,” he said smiling. Honestly I was relieved.
“Mind if I clean-up before I walk back to my hotel?”
“You are welcome to stay,” he said almost formally. “I can take more,” he added with a grin and gave his slack dick a squeeze.
“You’re a gracious host,” I said and went into the attached bathroom.
I finished and found him sitting on the side of the bed facing me when I exited his bathroom. He’d carefully laid-out my clothes and when I approached he leaned over and kissed my groin. “Un beso de gracias,” he said and then flopped back onto his elbows. His body was perfect … and made me think twice about staying.
But I had to be at my former boss’s regional HQ tomorrow morning. I hadn’t worked now for a long while and rest would be useful as I was unaccustomed to the exertion. Also another good workout in the hotel’s very well-appointed gym would start my day right; I had to keep my aging body in shape for my young stud of a husband when he got here. And thus an idea.
“When my husband arrives we should get together again.”
He grinned. “If get together means,” he made the universal index finger into thumb and index finger motion, “then I would like that.”
“It means exactly that Gil,” I told him as I finished getting into my shoes. And then I leaned in for a long kiss which both surprised and obviously delighted him. After that I turned and left without a word.
