The hotel room was cloaked in darkness and Henry and Thomas laid in each other’s arms contended beyond all measure. Thomas, just barely awake, inhaled the heavenly scent of the dried sweat and cum that covered Henry. Henry, with his head on Thomas’s chest, snored and twitched quietly while Thomas wrapped his arms around him seemingly to never let him escape. Every inch of their skin that could touch, touched. They were as close to being as one as possible, that is, without actually being “as one” a few hours earlier. Thomas was pleased beyond words—not only with the intense raw sexuality of the evening—but how he was able to teach Henry the joy of receiving pleasure by giving it. Thomas had never experienced sex the way he had that night, and more importantly, he never had a partner experience it the way Henry had. Thomas felt they had connected like he’d never connected with another human being before. Time would tell whether Henry felt that way as well, but the contentment on his face and tight embrace while he slept was a pretty good sign.
Eight Hours Earlier
Thomas’s travel plans had come together as expected and he and Henry agreed to meet Friday night for dinner at a restaurant near the hotel. Thomas had finished a long week in Dallas on business and was, ironically, staying at the same hotel where he spent 48 hours in the role of a submissive cumdump, taking over 20 cocks and 38 loads. Three months before, he had allowed himself, actually practically begged his two masters to use and abuse him for 48 hours. The weekend included an array of degrading sexual deviances including a 5-man BBC gang bang. That’s where Thomas and Henry had met; Henry being one of the “gang bangers". But they unexpectedly connected in a way that neither of them could explain. Sensing the connection, Henry had left his contact info with Thomas’s “master” in hopes that he’d sometime reach out.
They each thought about the other for the three months following the gang bang until, finally, Thomas contacted Henry to let him know he’d be in Dallas and to suggest they have dinner. Henry leapt at the chance and they both anticipated the evening with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Thomas because he had resolved to put the episode of submissiveness behind him, and Henry because he was struggling with a desire to someday be on the receiving end of a scene like Thomas had experienced. But their yearning to see one another outweighed any concerns they were bringing to the table.
The restaurant was close enough for Thomas to walk to from the hotel so they agreed to meet there. Once Thomas arrived, he stopped outside the restaurant door and took a deep breath. He was here to meet the man he’d been obsessing over for the past three months, and had no assurance that Henry wouldn’t assume he was ready to slide back into his sub role.
Ready to go, he brushed off the front of his sport coat and slacks and walked in with his head held high, searching for Henry at the bar. It didn’t take long to spot him as Henry, sitting at the bar, had been watching the door like a hawk and slowly rose to his feet when he spotted Thomas. Their eyes met and it was as if they were thrown back in time. If eyes could smile, they were both grinning like hyenas. Thomas bolted past the host’s booth, across the bar and straight into Henry’s arms. It was as if two were long lost fraternity brothers who had reconnected after 25 years apart. Thomas wanted to smother Henry with kisses, but he knew that would make it awkward for them both. But one thing was unmistakable that no one at the bar needed to know….as they embraced, Thomas could tell Henry was already hard as a rock.
For his part, Henry had arrived at the restaurant 30 minutes early just in case Thomas was early as well. He didn’t want to miss a minute of being with his lost friend. He could think of nothing but Thomas’s arrival all day, and he wasn’t disappointed when Thomas hightailed it to greet him when he arrived.
“You’re looking good,” Henry offered in an uncharacteristically submissive tone.
Thomas instantly picked up on Henry’s deferential tone and responded, “You’re looking sexy as fuck, my man”, subtly establishing his dominance. He intentionally addressed Herny as “my man” as that was what Henry had called him throughout the entirety of the gang bang.
And so it began. A mating dance in which Thomas had to prove (to himself and Henry) he wasn’t a submissive slut with whom Henry could do as he please, and in which Henry had to somehow hint, without degrading himself, that he wouldn’t mind a taste of what he saw Thomas experience that night three months ago.
Thomas immediately took charge and ordered them both a Manhattan to nurse in the bar before being seated. He was in no hurry and he wanted to savor the experience. To Thomas’s relief, Henry didn’t flinch when Thomas took charge. They both knew what they were here for, but they were equally intrigued with the other and wanted to learn more before they got to “the good stuff”.
Thomas’s guess was right when he learned Henry was an accomplished triathlete, finishing 1-2 Iron Man’s a year and hovering in the top 10 male athletes nationally. Everything about him spoke confidence, agility, and sexiness. What he didn’t know was that Henry was also one of the most sought-after litigators in Dallas. High profile, handsome, and extremely eligible. Likewise, Henry finally learned where Thomas got his incredible body from…CrossFit. Like Henry, Thomas hovered near the top of the pack of U.S. men and was religious about fitness. Henry had an inkling of Thomas’s professional background however. When being persuaded into joining the gangbang, he was told he’d be fucking the an unbelievably sexy CEO of a major company. That’s why Henry was so intrigued with Thomas when they met. How could a CEO who’s also a nationally recognized athlete allow himself to be used the way he did. It made no sense. And the very thought of it made Henry hard.
When Thomas was ready for dinner, without consulting Henry he paid the bar tab and walked them over to their table. Already Henry was feeling curiously comfortable with not being in charge. Usually it was him making decisions like Thomas was, but he was more than ok with this “new normal”.
Thomas stayed in charge, first by ordering wine, then by making menu suggestions, and leading the conversation. After the pleasantries of learning about the other, Thomas steered the conversation to their encounter three months ago. He wanted to quickly establish that the submissive role he exhibited that night was a “one and done” to clearly communicate he wasn’t the submissive slut that he appeared to be that night and to manage Henry’s expectations for the evening. Once established, Henry seemed strangely relieved, which Thomas found curious. Henry clearly didn’t want an encore performance from Thomas.
However, what Thomas didn’t expect was Henry’s intense curiosity about Thomas’s experience from that evening. Had Thomas ever done anything like that before? How did he know he wanted to try it? How did he meet his “masters”? And how was he able to endure it?
They were now a few cocktails and glasses of wine into the evening so it was easy for Thomas to lean into the conversation with more candor than he typically would’ve. These were questions that haunted him so he found it somewhat therapeutic to talk about it. As he shared the more lurid details of the weekend, Henry, became increasingly intrigued. Henry pummeled Thomas with questions like, “What’s it like to give up control? Do different guys’ cum taste different from one another? Do their cocks feel different? How does it feel to be publicly humiliated in front of other men? How do you manage to keep all that jizz up your hole? Did you have bruises and marks the next day?” Henry had kept up with Thomas in the cocktail department, so he was less guarded with his questions than he might’ve been as well and the conversation was getting increasingly erotic for Henry.
It finally became clear they needed to address the elephant in the room—Henry’s intense interest in submission. Thomas leaned across the table and said to Henry, “Sounds like the shoe may be on the other foot, my man.”
Not knowing exactly how to respond, Henry simply uttered, “It’s complicated.”
Thomas took this exchange as permission, so to speak, to begin his assault. He slipped his shoe off and gently but intentionally rubbed up and down Henry’s leg with his shoeless foot. Henry, with equal intention, shifted his weight into the wandering foot to indicate his approval and man-spread his legs with the hope the searching foot would find its way to his crotch. Thomas, clearly on the offensive, took the hint and dove into Henry’s rock hard crotch and aggressively massaged it with his foot while looking him straight in the eye and virtually daring him to resist. Resisting was the last thing Henry wanted so he simply leaned back into the booth, sighed and spread his legs even wider.
Fortunately, that exchange opened the door to what had brought them together in the first place…their fascination with the other’s sexual role. It gave Thomas the opportunity to explain that he had been, historically more of a top, although not really a dom, but had had a secret itch to scratch which led to the 48 hours of submission. He was fascinated by the entire thing and wanted to learn two things…would he like it, and more importantly, could he endure it. He didn’t answer the questions for Henry, he simply shared that he had learned a lot about himself that weekend and couldn’t escape the fact that he wanted to get to know Henry more. That brought them to tonight.
Now in the spirit of full disclosure, Henry shared that he’d participating in many gang bangs over the years, always as a top, but fewer and fewer over time. They just weren’t doing it for him anymore. Then he paused, as if he were deciding what to say next, and added, “But that night with you really made me think. I saw how you not only endured the humiliation and pain, but how you enjoyed it. A big, fucking stud like you getting thrown around like a rag doll. And I asked myself…what if…What if that were me? Could I do it? Would I do it? I still don’t know the answer to that question.”
Thomas reached across the table and put his hand on top of Henry to pull him closer, (all the while pressing his foot even harder into his crotch) and said, “I think we both have some questions that need answering. You’re coming to my hotel to figure it out.” And then quickly added, “That’s an order.”
It didn’t take long for Henry to pull his car around and Thomas to hop in the passenger seat. While he was getting in, he spotted what he believed was a leather overnight bag, presumably Henry’s. Referring to the bag with his eyes, he asked, “Is that what I think it is?”
Henry paused before he answered, “Busted….sir.”
“Bring it in with you. I don’t leave until Sunday.” Thomas said with authority.
If Henry’s cock could’ve gotten any harder, it would’ve. Likewise, his heart was beating so hard, his chest was nearly exploding.
Thomas sauntered through the hotel lobby, up the elevators and down the hallway as if he had all the time in the world, further torturing Henry. Henry, on the other hand, could barely stand up straight due to his erection and was panting like a dog in heat. Thomas was equally turned on but used this as another opportunity to take command. When they finally entered the suite, Henry was hoping Thomas would pounce on him, but he did the opposite. He casually removed his jacket and shoes, sat in the luxurious couch in the living room and casually ordered Henry to bring him a bourbon—on ice—from the bar.
Henry was totally turned on by the subtle degradation. He had secretly hoped he would experience the role of a sub and this seemed to be a step in that direction. Trying not to sound like a butler, but wanting to step into the role, he responded, “Yes, sir.”
“That has a nice ring to it, Henry. You going to take good care of your daddy tonight?” Thomas asked.
Henry, now mixing the drink, looked over his shoulder to Thomas, and with a huge grin (secretly conveying his relief), replied, “Yes. Fucking. Sir.”
“Good”, replied Thomas. “Now bring me that drink”.
Henry walked over and handed Thomas his bourbon and before it exchanged hands, Thomas added, “Now, very slowly, get those clothes off. I want to see that sexy mocha body of yours again. But this time, I’m calling the shots.”
Henry’s heart was beating so fast he thought his chest was going to explode. He quickly began removing his shirt, so fast in fact, that Thomas had to intervene. “Slowly, I said.”
Henry calmed down a bit and forced himself to drink in the eroticism of the moment. As his shirt fell from his shoulders revealing his glistening boulder-like shoulders, and sculpted abs, pecs and arms, Thomas smiled and remarked, “Very nice Henry. Last time we were together, I was….preoccupied. This time I’m going to really get to enjoy you. ALL of you.”
Sensing the affect this exchange was having on Henry, he pointed to his now-bulging crotch and said with a knowing smirk, “And what’s going on down there, my man? You got something you’d like to show me?”
“Yes, sir” was all Henry could get out of his mouth, and he forced himself to slowly, this time, slide his pants down and remove his shoes, socks and pants, leaving him in only a white, Coyote jock strap. He began to slide that down, but Thomas interrupted, “No…leave it on for now. You worked hard for that body and I bet that jock has been with you along the way. I want to enjoy you in it.” He then motioned for him to step between his legs as close as he could stand to the chair, “Now come here…”
Thomas inspected Henry while Henry stood there motionless, not believing this was really happening. To be inspected like a piece of meat, knowing he’d be used was beyond his ability to imagine. Just when the tension became unbearable for Henry, Thomas slid his hand toward the bulge in Henry’s jock strap and slid two fingers just slightly inside the pouch so they grazed his cock and balls. “VERY nice, little man”, he said.
The expression ‘little man’ wasn’t premeditated, but it made them both crazy. It’s what Henry called Thomas at the gang bang pluls it avoided the racist undertones of the more commonly used expression “boy” used in dom/sum scenes, which Henry appreciated.
“Now, get me undressed”, Thomas ordered him. Henry slowly unbuttoned each shirt button and carefully slid the dress shirt off Thomas, being extra attentive not to wrinkle it. He slid his shoes off and when he pulled his socks off, he made a point of putting them to his face and taking a deep breath.
“You like the way real men smell, don’t you Henry”, Thomas remarked, not as a question, but as a statement of fact.
He reached for Thomas’s belt and slowly undid it, pulled the pants down and off, again being especially careful not to crease them, leaving Thomas now in nothing but a pair of black bikini briefs.
Thomas, manspread on the couch in only his black briefs, Henry towering over him in his white jock strap, asked, “You like what you see, little man?”
“Oh…yes…sir..” he exhaled.
“Good”, Thomas responded. Now pointing to the floor between his knees he added, “On your knees. You know what to do.”
Henry couldn’t believe his good fortune. Thomas was the sexiest man he’d ever seen, much less been with, and he seemed to have a sixth sense for what Henry needed. To be owned and used, but with an undercurrent of respect, possibly even affection.
The night was young.
