Chapter 6 | Cameron
Chapter 6
Cameron
W hen the cute and super -hot young dude refused my drink, I thought it was the end of my goal of romance-a-man tonight. One who I’d been more than interested in. I smiled, sipped my drink, listened to the soft piano music, however, Moonlight Sonata made me moody and sad, and even sadder when the piano player sang “Autumn Leaves.” I didn’t want to think about Brett. I wanted to think about life, about living, and having some pleasure for once. It had been a year when I dared dream of another man. How long should you mourn?
His sister, Dolly, said it was too soon to think about another relationship.
I was wondering the logic of confiding in her anyway. She had been hurt about Brett’s passing, and didn’t consider my empty feelings and the hole left in my heart and my desire to fill it.
One day she came and took Brett’s little dog because she said I traveled and I couldn’t give it the attention and love it deserved. She might have been right, but that was for me to say and not her.
Returning to my thoughts about moving on, and dealing with the reality of how I was feeling now, I gazed at that guy who reminded me of my Sabastian. I said mine because in my mind he belonged to me, and since he was a fantasy I didn’t have to share him with anyone. That dude I’d been eyeing gave me a different perspective, and I wanted to know him better, and I didn’t care how Dolly felt about me having someone in my bed. A living person was better to take to bed than a picture.
As much as that thought lifted me, this piano music brought me down. The liquor did that so why listen to this funeral march, I thought.
Leaning over, I pulled a hundred from my pocket and dropped it in the piano player’s tip glass. I mumbled, “Play something different. Play something that doesn’t have me jumping off a cliff.” The guy dressed in a black suit with a stiff white shirt smiled, nodded his head, and winked, and changed the tune to something upbeat.
The piano player continued playing, and then said, “What about this tune? ‘Someone You Love’.”
“Much better,” I complimented. Just the song I wanted to hear and the title suited it.
When I sat up with a new frame of mind, two dudes who appeared to be interested in me, eyed me and I smiled, and they sauntered over, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the one guy who got away, and the one guy who reminded me of Sabastian. I guessed it was like that sometimes with me, always wanting the man who appeared to be unattainable.
It was that way with Brett. I took him for granted until he wasn’t there anymore for me to lean on, and tell him my wishes and dreams whenever I came home.
Today wasn’t the time to think about Brett, but to feel a body next to mine which hadn’t happened in over a year. Therefore, I made myself content with the guys who were interested in me for obvious reasons. If nothing else, I’d have company, and someone to talk to, drink with, or maybe if I got drunk enough I’d go to bed with the one who appealed to me the most. They were close to my age, and we could talk about familiar things, but I could tell one wanted more than a conversation, but they were both tops like me, and since they weren’t my type I wrote them off, because all I wanted was a one-night stand anyway. If I couldn’t have the boy I’d initially wanted to be with, I couldn’t justify going to bed with someone when I wasn’t into them, and both appeared to be more needy than I had been.
I didn’t want to have sex and then have them cry on my shoulder as I had done once. I couldn’t give them what they needed, and therefore I said, “It’s nice meeting you, give me your number, and when I’m in town, I’ll look you up.” They weren’t shocked. They understood because it seemed they wanted to hookup tonight and not a month or two later.
After I’d spoken with both men I knew they were as shallow as most of the men I’d come into contact with lately, and that was why I found it best to confine myself to work, and watch my hot man from a distance, and dream about meeting him one day. I knew I was playing it safe, but I didn’t want to get involved with anyone where I would have to be in one place all the time.
I needed a man who could travel with me, and I just hadn’t found that guy yet.
I knew it didn’t make sense when I had a lot of options. There were men who wanted to date me, but that was because I owned Westlake’s clothing stores in the US and Canada, and they assumed I had money. That could be a trap having too much money, and lacking a life to share it with someone that you wanted.
My partner Brett had died unexpectantly of a heart attack at fifty. He understood I had to work, and we were a great partnership with him holding down the home front, taking care of the house, and throwing parties whenever I returned. He loved that kind of thing, because he was a professional decorator, and even though he didn’t need to work, he did in his own business to have his own money and keep active.
He’d stage these expensive homes throughout the south, but when I met him we were content with each other, and there wasn’t any jealousy because Brett had money and he knew I had plenty also. We were with each other because we wanted to be together, not because of need on anyone’s part.
I met Brett when I decorated my home after my wife had moved out. We were not a good fit for each other, I rationalized, but the truth was I didn’t have time to offer her. She didn’t understand, but Brett did and he worked around my schedule.
“Thank you for the drink, but I make it a habit never to accept drinks from men I don’t know, especially a man in a bar who’s drinking. You never know what his intentions are.” I glanced up in surprise. I hadn’t expected this after he’d refused my drink offer.
“Sit down, and I’ll tell you exactly what my intentions are, and if you want to leave, then I wouldn’t blame you,” I said.
The boy sat, but I had to get to the elephant in the room quickly. “Are you the Sabastian who’s an influencer? I tune in to see what you’re going to wear next.” In truth I tuned in to his channel because I was fascinated, and I didn’t have a life anymore.
“No, I’m not Sabastian.”
“Well, if you were, and you said you aren’t, I’d still want to make love to you in whatever manner you choose,” I said, surprised at those choking words.
“Since we’re getting everything out on the table, I don’t like men who want to substitute me to satisfy a fantasy.” He turned on the balls of his feet to walk away, and I caught his arm and those cool brown eyes penetrated my core when he faced me once more.
“Don’t go. I think you’re the hottest young man I’ve ever met, and that includes Sabastian whom I’ve never met. There’s no way I’d confuse you with a fantasy. You’re real and I want to get to know you better,” I said quickly before he had time to run and jerk his arm from mine.
“Since you’ve been truthful and complimentary, and I don’t like compliments, but you have a way that I can’t refuse you. I’ll have that drink.” That was when I ordered him a glass of wine, and we sat and talked. Because they didn’t have the drink Sam wanted, he agreed to drink what I was. We sipped our drinks, listened to the piano music until we realized the people we’d come with were gone, and that left me and the Sabastian look-alike not able to drive home, and both of us wondering where the time had gone.
“Are you driving?” I asked.
“Are you?” I nodded my head. “Excuse me,” and I made a reservation for one of their suites. Shortly afterwards, a young woman sauntered over and handed me two keys. “Here, I’m going to my room, because I can’t drive and if you want to come with me, I would love the company, because I want to know what you look like in the nude.”
“I think you’re drunk,” he said.
“I think you’re right, but I’ll be sober by the time I reach my room, and if you come with me you won’t be sorry.”
I left the bar first and kept glancing back to see if he was a figment of my imagination and he wasn’t. Although I’d drunk over my limit, he was real. A handsome stunning young man I wanted to wake up and see him in my arms.
However, I had showered and had given up when I happened to glance out of the door to ask for a drink, and that was when I saw him standing in front of the elevator door, and then turn back as if he was trying to make up his mind if he wanted to be here or not.
“Come. I’ve been expecting you. Did you get lost? That’s easy the way those elevators open and most of the floors look the same,” was some of what I said to give him an excuse for his indecision. When he strolled into my room, I wanted to throw him on the rug, undress him, lay him on his back and suck his cock. I hadn’t tasted one in years. I’d forgotten how it felt to suck cock, but with him I wanted to get acquainted with it once more. I could tell he was nervous and I remembered how I’d been at his age, and I realized it wasn’t any different because at his age and the man being older, I knew what to expect.
He expected to give me a blow job, but I wanted to give him one, and that would surprise him and that was what I needed. To turn his expectations on its head. Offer him something he hadn’t expected. Then give him what he did expect—a hard fuck. He looked as if he hadn’t been fucked in years, and we were both in the same boat. I recognized his look because now I wore the same, only difference, I was older.
I pulled him to me, “I told you what I wanted to do, and you came anyway.” My heart was racing and I tried to control my breathing, and how desperate I needed to be inside this man.
“Yes, I came, because I wanted the same thing.”
“Now tell me how you want it? Remember what I said to you.”
“How could I forget? I don’t want it rough. I want to feel you love me, even if you don’t,” I admitted. I stared waiting for Sam to kill the silence that overtook us.
It didn’t take long before he replied, “You’re not hard to love. I think I’ll find that easy to accomplish. Don’t you think we’ve talked enough?” I didn’t give him an answer. I grabbed him, pulled off his shirt with his help. Dropped my robe and he stood back. I couldn’t read his expression, and I didn’t want to try. He cracked a grin with his small, cute lips. Was he laughing at me? Did I come on too strong? What the fuck was it? It had been a year or more since I’d exposed my body to anyone.
Perhaps I’d let myself go, and hadn’t taken the time to notice. I thought no one would look at me as I cruised effortlessly to my forties, but more men than ever would flirt with me, but I thought it was because of those expensive haircuts, facials, and expensive suits. It was the outside package that they were obsessing over, but now the Emperor had no clothes.
“What is it?” I said, ready to hear the truth about my body, especially from a young man who would know.