It was always the same when we got together. He didn't want me to be seen pulling up to his cushy condo in the Northwest quadrant of the city. God forbid someone in the press snap a photo of me parking my car and walking into his building. No. Instead, he always sent a car to my place to pick me up. That way he could plausibly claim that I'm a staff member coming over for an emergency late night work meeting.
All this Cloak and Dagger bullshit because I fell in with a politician. I guess "fell in" is a little bit of a misnomer. It makes it sound like our thing just randomly...happened to me. Like a freakin' meet cute where we'd both reached for the same head of lettuce in the Produce section of the grocery store and then chuckled and blushed when our hands touched. Random isn't exactly how it went down. I'm not proud, but the truth is I sought him out. I mean... A stud ex-military man in his late 50s all alone in the city while his wife and family were back in his home state? It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
Don't get me wrong. I don't fancy myself a homewrecker. Unless the guy's hiding his band from me, I don't typically fuck around with married men. But again... Warren McCutcheon was too hot to NOT take a shot at. Against all odds, I'd ended up hooking him. We'd started out as a once a month thing, but over the past couple years, it had been more like once a week. No one in my personal life knew. Certainly not my family. I couldn't imagine telling my country club snob parents and sister about him and the circumstances surrounding our involvement. I hadn't told any of my friends either...not even my closest, Brandon. I was borderline paranoid that Warren would somehow find out that I'd blabbed and he'd end things with me.
When he'd reached out earlier in the afternoon to ask about seeing me, I'd initially turned him down. I'd just gotten back home from a work trip and I thought I'd be tied up all day hanging out with Brandon. When he understandably ditched me for his high profile football coach FWB, I called Warren to see if he still wanted company. It could've been seen as the act of a desperate man, I know. But listen... If you'd seen the good senator nude and been on the receiving end of the talents he has in the sack, you'd have called him too!
That's how I found myself sitting in the back of a hired car as it pulled up outside of his secure building. I grabbed the "for show" binder full of papers that Warren insisted I carry with me, climbed out of the back seat and jogged up the four stairs to the landing where the doorman opened the front door for me.
"Good to see you again, Jason," he grinned at me as I walked past. I suppose I should've taken the fact that I was here so often now that the guy knew and remembered my name as a sign that I was in way too deep for my own good.
"Likewise, Clint," I responded with a smile.
He walked with me to the elevator and pressed the Up call button. While we waited, he turned to me. "Business on The Hill must be crazy, huh?"
"It can be," I said vaguely.
As the door slid open and I stepped on, he continued the casual conversation. "As often as you're here after business hours, I hope you're getting paid extra."
I searched his face for a knowing expression that told me we were talking about Warren and I having an affair without actually talking about it. Instead, I saw sincerity which made me feel like a cad for the briefest of moments. Plastering a good-natured smile on my face, I shot back quickly. "Trust me, man. I'm getting my just rewards for all my hard work."
As the door started to slide shut he stuck his hand out to stop it, startling me. "Almost forgot! The big guy called down and wanted me to tell you to come on in when you get upstairs. 'No need to knock' he said. The door's unlocked."
Stifling a laugh, I managed to croak out, "Thanks, Clint. Good night!"
"Good night, bud," he responded. Before the door finally slid shut, he called out at the last moment, "And have a good time tonight. You deserve it!"
I guess it doesn't matter how discreet you think you're being. Nothing gets past a doorman who sees everyone coming and going all day every day. Now alone in the car as it crept upward, I finally let loose a soft laugh. Even though Clint apparently knew what my weekly late night visits to Warren's penthouse suite were all about, he couldn't possibly know that Big Guy was my nickname for him because of his rather plentiful package.
The elevator opened in front of the double doors leading to his living quarters. I crossed the hallway, grabbed the handle and - true to what Clint had told me downstairs - I was able to push it open and walk in.
"B.G.?" I called out softly in case he was on a work call, but loud enough that he could hear me.
After a few moments, he strolled out of the hallway leading to the master bedroom, beaming from ear to ear when he saw me. Without a word, he crossed the room to met me where I stood in front of the door, brought his hands up to my waist and leaned in for a soft kiss. After our lips parted, he sighed with content. "Damn, I'm glad to see you."
I grinned and then teased him as a I ran my hand up the front of his dress shirt and across his broad shoulder to play with the second button on his dress shirt. "I should go away on business more often if that's how you're going to react when I get back."
He smirked at me then blushed as his hands slid around to cup my ass. "When you say things like that, you make me think I don't properly show you what you mean to me, J."
"Trust me. I know where I stand," I said as I popped the button loose on his shirt letting some of his salt and pepper chest hair out to play. I knew it was a non-reply reply that could mean a lot of things. And I guess it was my passive-aggressive way of letting him know that I knew I wasn't first, second, or even eighth on the list of things and people he most cared about. Truth was, he wasn't exactly high on my list either. But my list of best ways to pass a slow day? He was damn near the very top...and for good reason!
Before his mind had time to travel to the idea that I might have meant what I'd said in a negative way, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his for an extended kiss. When we parted, he gave a soft grunt and readjusted his pants. I grinned and reached down to feel his growing boner already starting to lengthen down the right side of his slacks. "Someone's ready to go!" I teased him.
"When you're around, always!" he smiled at me. "But that'll have to wait. I just got finished ordering us dinner from that fancy little eatery nearby that we like."
I popped open another button on his shirt and played with more of his fur, loving the feel of the worked-out mature muscle of his upper chest. "Nothing says we can't have a little fun until the food gets here," I countered.
He smirked at me. "I DO love foreplay."
"You're the king of it, Sir," I stroked his ego as I continued to stroke his cock through his slacks, remembering our phone conversation from earlier when I was at Brandon's when he'd insisted I call him Sir.
"Unf!" he grunted. "You know exactly how to turn me on, don't you?"
"I've learned a few things for as long as we've been getting together," I demurred.
He ran his hands from my ass up my back until he cradled the back of my head with his right one. "Now that you say you know where you stand with me, I can't wait until after dinner so I can show you where you lay."
With that, he leaned in and kissed me again, this time more passionately than before. As our clinch continued, I felt his tongue press against my lips, prompting them to open and let me in, which I gladly did. I wanted to battle with him, letting my own tongue chase his back into his mouth, but I know the senator likes to be in charge so I struck a more passive posture and let his tongue claim my mouth as its own.
When we parted, I tried to collect the air he'd taken from me while he ran his hands under the hem of my shirt and felt up my torso. Finally able to speak, I halfway feigned disappointment. "Kinda makes me wish you hadn't ordered dinner."
"You know what? Me too," he echoed. As he looked in my eyes, I saw unbridled lust in them and letting silence hang in the air for only a few seconds, he pulled me to him for a quick kiss. "Oh, fuck it. Dinner can wait!"
He pulled away from me and then extended his hand for me to grab. When I took it, he led me to the bedroom and walked me over to his bed. "Give me one moment," was all he said before he picked up his phone off of the dresser and began fiddling with it. When he put it up to his ear, I took the opportunity to walk over to him. As he carried on his conversation, I began unbuckling his belt, pulling it quickly from the loops of his slacks, and set to undoing and unzipping him.
"Hello, Maurice?....Yes, this is Rafael Santiago." Funny that he used his most despised colleague in the Senate as his fake name. "I just placed an order for delivery a little less than 10 minutes ago......Right." He glanced at me and grinned. "Something's come up and I'm afraid I need to delay it. Can I do that?........Perfect!......Oh, say about an hour. Would that work?........" Right about that time, I'd gotten his pants and underwear pooled around his ankles and had been slowly running my fingers up and down his steel hardness jutting up and out from his pubic hair, causing him to bite his lip. "Uh, Maurice...better make that an hour and a half.......Great. We'll see your delivery man then!........Thanks. Bye!"
When he ended the call and tossed his phone back down on the dresser, he smirked at me before pulling my shirt up and over my head by the hem and then wrapping his arms around me. "You are a VERY naughty man, Jason. Teasing me like that while I'm on the phone."
Not backing down, I finished undoing the last couple of buttons of his shirt and pushed it off of his shoulders so that it hung halfway down his back and stuck below his muscled biceps. "Like you said earlier, I know what turns you on." Then I added. "And I know what turns ME on."
"Do tell..." he egged me on. He'd known me long enough to know what all of my buttons were and exactly how to push them.
I reached up and ran my hands over the his firm and hairy pecs, letting my pinkie finger graze his erect nipple. "You do, Sir. Completely and utterly." I leaned in for a soft kiss and let my right hand drift down to encircle his cock, which had already started to leak. We'd barely parted from our kiss when I added in a whisper, "My fuckin' sexy B.G."
He tightened his embrace around me and looked soulfully into my eyes before letting out, "Fuck, do I want you!"
I backed away from him until I felt the mattress hit the back of my knees. I sank down onto the bed and scooted myself back halfway to the headboard. "Then come and get me....B.G."
Within ten seconds, he'd shucked his shirt the rest of the way off of his body, stepped out of his underwear and pants, and climbed on top of me.
I'm still not completely aware of how it happened, but in the process of making out with him, the rest of my clothes came off and our cocks started batting against each other between us.
He pulled back, his eyes full of lust and whispered, "I'm feeling pretty short on more foreplay, J. I know you may want more, but I've gotta be inside you...like now!"
He was right. I was disappointed, but I didn't want to let it show. Trying to match his intensity, I lifted my legs and leered at him. "Then by all means, Sir. Get to work!"
He reached over and pulled open the top drawer of his nightstand to pull out a tube of lube. Within a matter of minutes, he had me prepped and his cock and my hole lubed up. As he was slipping inside me and slowly pushing in to the hilt, he looked into my eyes again appreciatively. "You're the best, you know that, young man?"
I wasn't all that much younger than him. Maybe ten or twelve years. But if he needed to call me young man in the moment, I was willing to let him do it. In fact, I egged him on. "Only because having a man like you - a strong, masculine, pillar of the community - fuck me so skillfully makes me want to be as good for you as I can be."
He let out a grunt and bucked his hips a couple times. I knew he was trying to hold back so I could be ready for the fuck, but he was having a hard time stopping himself. He reached up and ran the back of his hand down my cheek gently. "I'm sorry, J. I gotta..."
Looking into his eyes, I nodded my assent. With that, he started pounding me. There was truly something wild within him that had been unleashed. I don't know what was different, but he hadn't been like this before. Normally I'd have tried to match his rhythm and be more of an active participant in our coupling, but the moment was so intense, I knew I couldn't keep up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clung my hands to his strong shoulders, and held on for the ride.
As the end neared and he bottomed out inside me, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine in a searing kiss. He wouldn't let my mouth go until I felt his load shoot deep into my hole, coating my prostate and the rest of my insides. It wasn't until I looked down the length of my body and saw my own cum on my chest and stomach that I realized he'd fucked my own load out of me.
In the aftermath of our sex we clung to each other, basking in the afterglow of one of the best sessions I'd ever had. Everything felt so right. It felt like he was mine and I was his and this was just...our life together. While he nipped and licked at my earlobe, I gripped his back with my left hand while my right one lazily ran through his chest hair and felt the firm but meaty muscle of one of his pecs.
He wasn't who I wanted. Not really. All things being equal, I knew who was at the top of my list. But I'd gotten good at being satisfied with other men. If I lost myself in fantasy, I could let myself believe this was a normal night for he and I.
"You're incredible, J," he moaned into my ear breathily. My hand drifted down his torso to grip his cock. Amazingly enough, it felt hefty like it could come to life again.
"It's all you, Sir," I kept up the facade of calling him that. "You bring it out of me."
He chuckled softly and then said something I didn't expect. "I don't deserve you, you know. I'm just lucky you give an old dog like me and all the baggage that comes along me me the time of day."
His mask had slipped and I was so stunned I didn't know how to handle it or what to say next. Him being bossy and in charge, I was prepared for. Me submitting to his sexual appetite, I could handle. Him being sentimental and borderline romantic? It was hot, but caught me off guard.
When I didn't say anything back right away, he leaned back from my ear and looked at me. "I probably shouldn't have said that."
"No, no! It's okay," I reassured him, as awkward as I was feeling. The last thing I wanted to do was shame him for opening up to me. "It's just..."
"...not my usual mood?" he finished for me.
I laughed softly. "I guess not, no."
He grinned. "Maybe I'm changing. Mellowing with age."
I jiggled his semi-hard cock that I was still lazily feeling up. "Don't mellow TOO much. I don't want to lose my B.G."
"No worries, there, my man!" he reassured me before leaning in and applying several kisses and nibbles to the side of my neck softly.
Was this a game changer? Was he really changing? I tried not to let my mind run wild. Like I said, he wasn't who I wanted. But if part of this change he talked about included leaving his wife, I was certainly game to consider settling for this stud ex-military senator dad.
I was starting slip into losing myself in the fantasy amid the pleasure his lips were doling out to my neck when I heard a buzz not far from my ear. He stopped kissing me and we both looked over to the nightstand to see his phone lit up. His personal phone was across the room on the dresser. This was his work-issued phone.
"Sorry," he apologized as he reached over me to grab it. "I should check this to make sure something crazy isn't happening in the country that I need to be aware of."
"Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just a news alert that the candidate your party's running tweeted something idiotic," I reasoned.
He laughed. "I turned off THAT notification years ago. If I was notified every time that doofus tweeted something stupid, my phone would be buzzing non-stop!"
I laughed while he looked at his phone. After a few seconds, I felt his body tense. "SHIT!" Immediately, he flew off of my body and was standing next to the bed looking anxious.
"What's wrong?" I was suddenly worried that something terrible had happened.
That was my chief of staff. He just got a message from his counterpart on my wife's staff. Vanessa and the girls just landed at National. They'll be here in half an hour!"
"Fuck!" I said involuntarily. "You didn't know they were coming?"
"Does it look like I knew they were coming?" he snapped back at me. "That would be pretty stupid of me to set up a romp with the local talent knowing my family was showing up!"
That stung...especially given how effusive he'd been just a few minutes earlier. I didn't say anything back. I couldn't say anything back. What was there to say?
He grabbed his personal phone off of the dresser and picked his clothes up off of the floor. As he started toward the living area of the penthouse, he turned back to me. Get dressed. You're outta here, man!"
It was a cold reminder of why Warren McCutcheon was definitely not at the top of my list. I was only halfway dressed when he anxiously strode back in the room looking at his phone. "I just ordered you an Uber. It should be here by the time you get down to the..." When he looked up and saw that I wasn't fully dressed, he scowled at me. "What the fuck are you doing? You're killing me, Jason! Are you trying to get us caught?"
"I'm moving as fast as I can?" I shot back, to which he scoffed. "Can I at least wait around until dinner shows up so I can take some to go?"
"Can't risk it bud. Besides, it'll put me in Vanessa's good graces if she shows up and I have dinner waiting for her."
The fucking bastard!
Five minutes later, I was standing at the penthouse door after having the fake work binder shoved into my arms, trying to say good night. Warren wasn't having any of it though. He practically pushed me out the door and then slammed it in my face before I could even turn around to look at him.
Two minutes later, the elevator door opened and I was in the lobby. Clint looked up when he heard my footsteps. He seemed surprised to see me. "Business is over earlier than usual, huh?"
"I guess so," I said back. I must've looked bewildered and shell shocked.
"You okay, Jason?"
"No," I decided to tell the truth. "But I will be."
He looked out the door. "I'm guessing the car that just pulled up is for you."
I sighed heavily. "Yep. For my proverbial walk of shame."
Clint seemed surprised that I slipped out of the pretense that this was a work visit. "Don't let the bastards get you down, man," he surprised me by trying to cheer me up.
"Thanks," I tried to smile. I made it to the door and then stopped. I fished my wallet out of my pocket and pulled out a couple twenties. The way I was feeling right now about what had just happened upstairs, I wasn't sure if I'd ever find myself back in this building again. I walked over to the kiosk Clint was standing at and pushed the money into his hand. "For you, man."
He looked at the bills and then back up at me. "What's this for?"
"For everything you've done for me since I've been coming here. For looking the other way. For pretending you don't know my visits are all about. For being so pleasant to me all the time."
"Just doing my job," he tried to hand the money back to me. "Discretion is part of the job description."
I held my hand up. "Keep it. You deserve it." I started to turn around and then stopped. "By the way... Sometime in the next few minutes, a food delivery will be arriving for Senator McCutcheon. You should keep it for yourself and when the prick upstairs calls down about it, pretend the food never came."
He laughed. "Maybe I will. See you next time, Jason."
I didn't have the heart to tell him that I probably wasn't coming back. Or maybe I didn't say it because I didn't want to end up looking like a desperate loser when I ultimately caved in and showed up here again in another couple weeks at Warren's beckon call. I just smiled. "Sure thing, Clint. Good night."
"Good night, Jason."
In the back of the car, I pulled my phone out. Surprise, surprise... No apology text from the senator. I knew I wouldn't hear from him again until he was horny. And I also knew an apology wouldn't be one of the things on the table. But I DID have a couple texts. One from Brandon and another that I'd labeled with the man's jersey number. I was shocked as shit. It was Mack Carmichael!
During the misadventure of setting up Brandon's hookup with the coach, I'd stumbled my way into a night and morning of hot sex with my favorite NFL referee. We'd exchanged contact info before we parted ways, but I didn't actually expect to ever hear from him. Immediately forgetting that the right thing to do would be to read Brandon's text first, I brought up Mack's message.
"Hey... I know this is out of the blue, but I just found out this weekend I'll be reffing a game not too far up the road from you. Would you want to come up and hang out? Pretty sure I could wrangle a seat in a sky box for you free of charge."
It was shallow of me, but after having the experience of essentially being kicked out of bed and treated like a sex worker, it made my heart skip a beat to read a message like that from a guy I was sure was a one-time only thing. Grinning like an idiot alone in the backseat of the Uber, I typed away. "Hey. Good to hear from you, man. How far away are we talking?"
Honestly, it didn't matter. I was 99.9% sure I'd be going. One doesn't turn down an invitation like that from a man like Mack Carmichael. But 'not too far up the road' from me was fairly vague. Were we talking an hour, two hours, or four hours?
I started to put my phone away. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be hearing back right away from this married family man. (I guess I have a type. I swear I'm not a homewrecker! But I digress...) I had slipped it about halfway back into my pants pocket when I heard it buzz. It was Mack with an answer to my question.
With my question answered and now knowing which city I'd be heading to and which teams were playing (irrelevant in the end since the hot guy in zebra stripes was the only reason I was going), I had a question of my own. "I know it may make me more trouble than I'm worth, but you think you can wrangle TWO sky box seats? I got a buddy I want to invite."
After a delay of more than five minutes, during which my heartbeat started elevating and I was sure that the hunky ref had blocked my number for asking such a thing, his response popped up on the screen. "Uh, isn't it gonna be hard for us to have fun after the game if you've got a friend to entertain?"
"Trust me," I typed back. "Him tagging along won't stop us from trying for a repeat of a couple weeks ago."
"You should know. I'm more of a one-on-one kinda guy. Not looking for a third."
I bit my lip and let out an involuntary grunt.
"You okay, dude?" the driver asked, diverting my attention from my phone. I guess I was louder than I realized.
Thinking quickly, I shot back, "Yeah. Sorry about that. My foot fell asleep. I'm moving it around now. I'll be good."
Convinced he'd returned his attention to the road, I turned MY attention back to my phone. "Same here," I typed. "If you trust me, I'll explain when I see you this weekend. My buddy will be having his own fun somewhere else while we're having ours."
"Ah. Gotcha!...I think."
"All good. I promise. No way I'm gonna do anything to mess up a chance with a man who threw me the best fuck I ever had."
"Okay. We're good. I'm gonna trust that you won't screw me over," came his response after another waiting with bated breath break in texting. "I should be able to get another ticket. Invite your friend."
"Thanks! You won't regret this. Can't wait to see you this weekend!"
I figured our text exchange was done, so I decided to see what had been on Brandon's mind. "Hey... Wanted to check and see if you're around of if you're on your back somewhere with your legs in the air. Wanna meet for a late dinner?"
I guess friends have some sort of special ESP connection or something and Brandon sensed that I'd been robbed of dinner earlier. "I'm fresh off of my back and in need of nourishment to get my energy back. If you're still free, I am too."
A few moments later, his response came through. "I don't know whether to say 'Ew!' or 'Good on ya, man!' But I'll decide after you tell me the details over a burger and fries. Five Guys?"
Chuckling to myself, I typed, "It was only one actually, but I appreciate you overestimating my stamina!"
After receiving an eye roll emoji in response, I followed up with agreement to meet at the closest location of the burger chain and added, "What happened to Coach Hot Stuff? When you left your place earlier, I figured it would be an all night thing."
"Me too. Stuff with his family came up, so we had to cut the evening short. Sucks cause I'm not sure when we'll be able to get together again."
Perfect! "On a related topic, I have a proposition for you that I want to tell you more about when I see you."
Almost immediately, Brandon answered back. "If it's anything like the last proposition you had for me, I don't need to hear more. It's a hard pass, bro!"
"Fucker! You're about to talk yourself right out of this nice thing I'm about to do for you."
"I'm skeptical. But I'm willing to hear what sort of hare-brained scheme you're trying to rope me into."
"Great! I'm in the back of an Uber right now. I'll be there in about 15 minutes."
"An Uber? Why?"
I knew there's no way I could tell Brandon the whole story...or any part of the story. "Long story," I typed back. "Have to tell you some other time."
"I know what that means. There's a juicy story there. I'll order us a couple rounds of beers and have them waiting when you arrive. That oughta loosen your lips."
Fuck, not spilling the B.G. secret just got harder! "See you in 15, man!"
This weekend would be a blast. Me and Brandon watching the game in a sky box with all the amenities. Then afterward, I'd go have the time of my life with Mack The Stud and Brandon would get some much-needed alone time with his hot coach. Who says doing nice things for people is for losers?!
I gave the driver the new location I wanted to be dropped off instead of home and had settled back into the seat for the rest of the ride when my phone buzzed again. To my surprise, it was another text from Mack.
"Sorry. My nag of a wife wouldn't get off my case about pulling the garbage cans out to the top of the driveway for trash pickup in the morning. Had to deal with her nonsense so she'd get off my back."
"No prob," I texted back. I didn't tell him, but I had thought we were done chatting anyway. "You're a good husband."
"lol, I'm SO the opposite of that. If I were a good husband, I wouldn't have done even a fourth of the things I've done outside my marriage and I certainly wouldn't be making a date with you. But on that topic, you got no idea how much I'm looking forward to seeing you."
I sat there and stared at the screen for a few moments. I didn't know how to respond. It seemed like Warren McCutcheon all over again. Too good to be true.
Before I could even figure out what to say back, another message came through. "You would not believe how fuckin' horny I am right now thinking about this coming weekend."
Moments later, a faceless photo popped up of a seated man in a sleeveless workout shirt with his shorts pushed down below his knees and a thick cock pointing up above a full set of balls. Thinking back to that night two weeks ago, I knew that wasn't a stock photo. That was the full Mack Carmichael. And seeing that photo got me instantly hard.
"Jesus!" I typed back. "Now I"m fuckin' boned!"
"Yeah? I don't know that I believe you. You should show me so that I have proof you're not lying."
"Can't. I'm in the back of an Uber on my way to meet a friend for dinner."
"So? Whip it out in the backseat and take a photo," came his response with almost no delay.
I knew my people pleaser ways would get me in trouble one day. I pulled my zipper down achingly slowly to avoid making noise. After looking up into the front seat and becoming convinced the driver couldn't see what I was doing, I fished my hand into my fly and pulled out my prong. Maybe it was the air on the skin or the danger of being caught, but I felt harder than I'd ever felt before. I waited for the car to pass under a streetlamp to illuminate my manhood. I snapped the photo, stuffed myself back into my pants and sent the photo.
Moments later, Mack responded with three fire emojis followed by, "Mercy!"
Was this really happening? Was I really exchanging flirty text messages and sexting with a man I'd lusted after through the TV for more than a decade?
"Now I really do have to go," came another message. "Kids' bedtime then I have some work to catch up on. I'll be in contact in a couple days with all the info you'll need for the game on Sunday. Can't wait to see you...and hear about whatever thing your friend's got going on that'll keep him occupied while we have our fun."
"Good night, man. See you on Sunday!"
As the Uber pulled up to the burger joint, I felt more worked up than I'd been all day...even after having had sex just an hour earlier. Fuck! I knew I'd have to say hi to Brandon, then excuse myself to the men's room to take care of business so that I could enjoy my meal without feeling like I was going to crawl out of my skin!
Such is the life of a horny man who seems to find his way into sex wherever he goes!
