Chapter 4
Armando
Tory had switched hotels. Both were extremely high-end, but the new one was sleek and modern, while the last one had been stately and elegant. This one also managed to be even more intimidating.
I felt hopelessly out of place as I took a seat in the lobby.
I’d exchanged my T-shirt and hoodie for a Henley, and I was wearing my nicest pair of jeans and my Chelsea boots—all of which I’d purchased for the weekend of my son’s wedding.
This was the best I could do, short of putting my tuxedo back on, which would obviously be overkill.
But I felt like there was a neon sign over my head, flashing the words: This man doesn’t belong here.
Since I’d arrived early, I sat in a corner of the lobby for twenty minutes before finally sending Tory a text to let him know I was downstairs.
He stepped off the elevator a minute later dressed all in black, from his loafers and dress pants to the button-down shirt he wore with the sleeves rolled back.
He looked effortlessly elegant, but it was his confidence more than anything that made him seem perfectly at home in this opulent setting. Unlike me, he carried himself with his head held high, making it clear he had zero fucks to give about what anyone thought of him.
I leapt up and started to cross the lobby. When he spotted me, his hard expression softened, a smile lighting his dark eyes. His gaze remained locked on me as I made my way to him. It was like everyone else was invisible, as far as he was concerned. That was incredibly flattering.
Plenty of people noticed him though, men and women alike. No wonder, since he was about six-foot-four, with the body of a professional athlete and the face of a movie star. But he didn’t seem to notice or care about all the looks he was getting.
When I reached him, I said, “Hi, Tory,” and impulsively grabbed him in a hug.
He wrapped his arms around me, which felt wonderful. “Hi, Armando. I was really happy to get your text about dinner.” After a moment he said, very gently, “You’re shaking.”
“I’m nervous.”
“Can I help put you at ease?”
“You already are. This hug is doing wonders.”
When I finally let go of him, he took my hand and said, “Let’s go upstairs and have a cocktail. The view from my suite is remarkable.”
Once we were alone on the elevator and headed for the top floor, I turned to him and blurted, “I really want you to fuck me, but not tonight.” That was so painfully awkward that I made myself cringe. But I thought it needed to be said right up front, since we were on our way to his hotel room.
A grin curled the corner of his full lips. “Noted, although I wasn’t bringing you upstairs to seduce you. I just thought it would be a nice, quiet place to have a drink and talk.”
His corner suite turned out to be huge, and the view really was amazing. The walls were almost entirely made of glass, and beyond them was a jaw-dropping panorama of San Francisco’s skyline at sunset.
While he made us some drinks, I sat down on a long, indigo blue couch facing the windows and concentrated on taking deep breaths. Two minutes later, Tory took a seat beside me and handed me a martini. He said, “Cheers,” as he clinked his glass to mine.
I barely tasted the drink as I tossed it back.
Then I stammered, “I’ve never been with a man before.
I think I might have told you that already, but I’m so nervous right now that I can barely remember my own name.
And by ‘been with,’ I don’t just mean I’ve never had sex with a man.
I’ve also never kissed one, or dated one, or… anything.”
I snuck a glance at him. He was waiting patiently for me to continue, so I said, “I’m afraid I’ll embarrass myself, or make things so awkward that you’ll regret ever having met me.”
“I could never regret meeting you, Armando.”
“You say that now.” I fidgeted with my empty glass and admitted, “I have no idea how two men even know if they’re… compatible. What happens if two tops try to be together, or two bottoms? How would that work?” I knew I sounded painfully na?ve, but this really was something I’d wondered about.
“Well, as for me, I’m only comfortable as a top. But if I were to go out with someone who didn’t want to bottom, there would be all kinds of things we could do that didn’t involve penetration.” He said that without the slightest hint of a smirk. It was reassuring that he was taking this seriously.
“I really want to bottom. But like I said in the elevator, not tonight.”
“You’re calling the shots, Armando. Since all of this is new to you, I’ll follow your lead. And if all we do tonight is talk and enjoy a meal together, that’s perfectly fine with me.”
“I don’t just want to talk.” I set aside my glass and slid closer to him. “I want…”
“Tell me.” His voice was soft. Almost a whisper.
I slid even closer, so our legs were touching. He set aside his glass too, and waited to see what I’d do. I ran a shaking hand over his shoulder, and he brushed my hair out of my eyes. Being this close to him was intoxicating. Traces of his cologne mingled with his own clean scent, drawing me in.
My breathing sounded rough and loud to me, and my heart was racing. The moment slowed, stretching out. It felt like I was on a roller coaster that had climbed to its highest point and was teetering there, right before it plunged down its steepest slope.
I whispered, “I want you to kiss me,” and we tumbled over the edge.
Tory tilted my head up with a fingertip under my chin, and his lips met mine. It was gentle and undemanding, but it lit a fire in me. I grabbed onto him and deepened the kiss. After all those years—a lifetime of waiting, and wanting, and wondering—now I felt like this couldn’t happen fast enough.
It seemed like he was getting as turned on as I was, and that boosted my confidence. When he tilted his head to kiss my neck, I mumbled, “I want…”
“Tell me, Arie.” The nickname made me happy.
I sat up a bit, so I could look in his eyes. “I want to feel your skin against mine, and I really want to suck your cock. But I’ve never done that before, so I’ll probably be terrible at it.”
He smiled at me as he took off his glasses and placed them on an end table. “There’s no such thing as a terrible blow job.”
“I’m sure you’re wrong about that.”
“Don’t overthink it. Just have fun.”
I asked, “Out of curiosity, can you still see me without your glasses?”
“You’re literally all I see. Everything more than two or three feet away is blurry, but you’re perfectly in focus.”
“Okay. I was just wondering.”
He grinned at me. “Any more questions?”
“Lots, but I’ll save them for later.”
I unbuttoned his shirt, and as soon as he took it off, my hands went straight to his soft, warm skin. I caressed his shoulders and biceps, and when I ran my palms over his broad chest, I could feel his heart racing just like mine was.
I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside before straddling his lap. He ran his hands down my back, and I leaned into him as he kissed me. It felt incredible to be skin-on-skin. Somehow, it managed to be comforting and a huge turn-on at the same time.
When I rocked my hips, my hard cock rubbed against his through our clothes. It felt good, but I was desperate for even more contact, so I climbed off his lap and quickly stripped myself. He did the same, and when I turned back to him I murmured, “Oh wow.”
His body was a work of art, and his cock was perfectly in proportion to the rest of him—which was to say, it was impressively long and thick. I liked the fact that it was uncut, like mine. That made all of this seem slightly more familiar.
I asked, “Is it okay if I touch you?”
“Yes. Anything you want, Arie.”
I reached over and tried stroking his cock, but the angle felt strange.
To remedy that, I straddled his lap again before wrapping my hand around his shaft.
He moaned softly when I started jerking him off, and that was reassuring.
Even if I felt clumsy and awkward, it seemed I was doing something right.
After a couple of minutes of this, he said, “Can I… no, never mind.”
I stopped what I was doing, resting my hands on his shoulders as I asked, “What were you going to say?”
“I started to ask if I could do the same thing to you, but you’re leading the way.”
“I appreciate you letting me call the shots, but I don’t want you to feel like your hands are tied. I think I need to work my way up to sucking your cock, so if you have some ideas in the meantime…”
He grinned at me. “I might have one or two.” With that, he wrapped his hand around his cock and mine, holding them together as he began jerking us off.
A soft moan slipped from me as I watched what was happening. It was incredible, totally unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hand already felt great, and then the sensation of his hard cock pressed along my length brought it to another level.
I had absolutely no intention of finishing, but this felt way too good. After maybe a minute, I blurted, “I’m about to—” I couldn’t even finish that sentence. I grasped his shoulders to keep myself anchored as I shot onto both of us, thrusting into his fist as I cried out.
Afterwards, I was instantly hit with a wave of embarrassment. As I gasped for breath, I managed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s fine.”
“But you didn’t get to finish.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
He wasn’t even remotely upset, but I was still mortified. I’d had all the staying power of a horny teenager. I needed a minute to regroup, so I climbed off his lap and said, “I’m going to clean up, unless you want to go first.”
“There are two bathrooms, so we can clean up at the same time. You can use the one that’s through there.” He pointed at the open door to the bedroom.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I scooped up my briefs and hurried out of the room.
While I was washing up, I gave myself a pep talk.
“Get it together, Armando,” I whispered to my flushed reflection in the mirror above the sink.
“There’s still a chance to redeem yourself.
Just go back out there and make him come.
You can do it. You’ve made it this far, and it would be tragic if you chickened out now.
” Okay, this was extra embarrassing. I sighed and muttered, “What a dork.”
That orgasm had taken a lot out of me, in more ways than one, so I splashed some cold water on my face to try to resuscitate myself. After I dried off, I put on my briefs and marched out of the bathroom, fully determined to show Tory a good time.
But I was still groggy, and there was a huge, comfortable-looking bed right in front of me. Maybe I should lie down for a minute, long enough to scrape together some energy.
I crossed the room to the big bed and flopped face down on top of the covers. “Just one minute,” I mumbled, as my eyes slid shut. “Sixty seconds. That’s it.”
This felt so damn good, though…