Hotel - Room 617

"Wow," I whistled. "Mauricio must be shitting bricks."

"Yeah, some of us know you've screwed a few hotel guests yourself, women and men. Mauricio's heard the rumors and he's gunning for you. He's chewing Steve's ass out as we speak."

The bar got busy again, I had time to think over Eileen's information, and it made me wary of Yannick. He seemed almost too good to be true, a macho stud who'd zeroed in on me, maybe a little too aggressively. What if it was all a setup? It had happened before several times as management tested the employees for honesty and loyalty. Money and jewelry deliberately left in a vacated hotel room, a few extra dollars added to the cash registers, an irate 'guest' pushing your buttons. My register had come up with too much money a few times but I was always too smart to pocket it.

The next morning I was on the beach for my run. I arrived fifteen minutes early and set my watch ahead. I was a good distance from the hotel when Yannick ran up beside me, totally fresh and not out of breath after obviously racing to catch up with me.

"You left early," he said.

"My watch said seven and you weren't there."

I held my arm out as we were running so he could see my watch.

"Your watch is fast."

"I try. I get more out of it if I run a good pace."

Yannick laughed.

"Do you always do this double talk shit?"

"You're a pretty good runner. You must do it regularly."

"I'm a pro baseball player. Running's what we do."

I looked at him hard. He'd seemed vaguely familiar but I'd just attributed it to his extraordinary good looks. Men who look like they've just stepped out the pages of GQ sometimes tend to blend together for me. After all, there's only just so many ways perfection can be put together. Still, I wasn't a big baseball fan. I prefer football. Baseball's too damn slow for me. If I'm watching it on television I'm usually asleep by the sixth inning, if I last that long. I've only been to a few live games, all of them exhausting. If I'm going to a stadium, I'll take the Bucs any day over baseball.

Yannick grinned as if could read my mind. "I get it. You're not a big baseball fan, are you? You've never heard of me."

I shook my head.

"I figured it. If you had, you'd have been all over me."

I stopped running, unable to breathe from laughing.

"Come on! It's not that funny!"

"Yeah, yeah it is. What makes it even funnier to me is that guys with an ego like yours usually have monkey dicks."

"Oh, really? Well, does this meet your standards?"

Yannick pulled the front of his running shorts down, exposing his penis. It seemed partially erect and was maybe six inches long. His foreskin was not long, only covering about two thirds of the head of his penis; in fact, it seemed very tight as if Yannick might experience difficulty pulling it completely back. The penis was a thing of beauty hanging below a mass of black pubic hair. I wanted to examine it more closely but I almost panicked because we were out in the open on Clearwater beach. I stepped in closer to hide his nakedness.

"For god's sake, man, pull your shorts up! This is a public beach and you'll get arrested if you get caught waving your dick around on a public beach. Me, too, if they think I'm involved. It may be okay in Canada but it sure as hell's not okay here."

He laughed again as he pulled his shorts back over his penis.

"Come on, Rowdy, there's no one on the beach this time of the morning but us. Show me yours."

We were walking now.

"See those buildings over there? Those are called hotels and condominiums and they've got windows. Half the people in them are over sixty and would call the police in a heartbeat, if they don't drop dead from shock first. And yeah, people run on this beach every morning, all day in fact. There's just no one else at this moment."

He hit me on the shoulder playfully.

"Come on, show me yours, Rowdy. Please, please, please, please."

I groaned.

"It ain't happening on a public beach. Forget it."

"There's a pier. You can do it under the pier. Hell, I'll give you a blow job under the pier."

We had come to Pier 60. I couldn't tell if he was joking or maybe mentally unbalanced, probably a little of both.

"Yannick, it's flattering to be chased like this but I'm not into public nudity and sex," I said sarcastically. "Hell, actually I've only had sex with four other guys."

He grinned. "Modesty is a virtue but you don't need to lie to me, babe. The word is you've fucked half the women and a third of the men who've stayed at your hotel. The people you work with brag about it. If you don't want it here, then come to my room. It's 617."

So he'd talked to Steve. He could be such a bitch sometimes, the lying bastard.

"That's my story and I'm sticking with it. And another thing, Yannick, two people just got fired, one for sex with the guests. I can't go to your room. I'm being watched by management."

"I heard about that. The girl the man accused of being a prostitute worked in the bar, right? He had no case. Anyway, I'm a pro ball player. I've got more to lose than you if the word got out I suck dick."

He was insistent.

"Come on, Yannick. You can have anyone you want. Why me? I'm nothing special."

He grabbed my hand and held it as we walked.

"You are special, Rowdy. Don't you ever look in a mirror at yourself? I've never been instantly attracted to another guy like this. You're so fucking gorgeous it makes my nuts ache."

I laughed. "Does this line actually work for you? I've heard better from middle aged widows who just need their ashes hauled."

"Look me in eye and tell me you're not attracted to me."

"I'm not attracted to you," I said but I was grinning as I said it.

"You fucking liar. Admit it. You want to fuck me, right?"

"You a top or a bottom?"

"Oh, we're haggling now, huh? I'll be whatever you want me to be."

"Hmmm. We'll see."

Yannick pulled me to him and kissed me on the lips before I knew what was happening. I was surprised how goddamn strong he was and I found myself returning his kiss.

"Why don't you two pansies get a room?"

It was Luther who yelled at us, an old man who was a beach regular. He was in his bathing suit headed to the surf for his morning dip. I saw him almost every day on my run because he lived in the condo building we were walking past. I waved at him and he laughed. He was an old queen who was always commenting on my ass or crotch when I'd run past him.

"Be careful with him, Rowdy. He looks like a heartbreaker."

"Not me, sir," Yannick piped up, "Rowdy's the heartbreaker here. I'm madly in love with him and he's ignoring me."

I had the good grace to blush like a fool and Luther laughed.

Luther was a nice guy, probably in his sixties, maybe even older, with a head of magnificent white hair and an athletic body that I hoped I'd be so lucky to have when I was his age. He swam and ran on the beach everyday and it wasn't too long before I discovered he had been the star of a popular drag show in New York City. I also discovered he was an incredible tease, often making a play for me, but most of the time he was just an interesting conversationalist. At first I'd been put off by his effeminate mannerisms, particularly after having my first sexual encounter with another man a few months earlier.

I'd been married and divorced, served in the army in Iraq, my father is a general, and I'd been dragged around military bases all over the world most of my life. I didn't need to be Sigmund Freud to know that Luther frightened me because my sexual world had been turned upside down by Richard Mayo when he'd walked into the bar and I'd jumped into bed with him, seduced by his incredible sexiness and his West Point class ring. I felt like everyone was looking at me, that I had a big sign on my back announcing I'd turned queer. Mayo had left after his bank conference ended and after we'd made love every day of his time at the hotel. He was gentle and loving as he initiated me into the world of gay sex. He was a retired army officer and he fulfilled my lifelong fantasy of being fucked in the ass by an older military man. It's a complicated fantasy, trust me.

I usually have sex with at least one female hotel guest a week, sometimes several. The bar's a hotbed of sexual activity as vacationers, business people, travelers, and others check in and out in the revolving door that is a typical beach resort hotel. Since I first hit puberty I've fucked girls, starting when I was twelve with Elaine Cooper who was hired to baby sit for me and my two younger sisters. Actually she was there mainly for my three month old sisters, identical twins who were born on my twelfth birthday. We were at the Weisbaden Army Airfield in Weisbaden, Germany and my parents were at a party in the officer's club. Elaine was seventeen but I was a head taller than her and seemed much older than twelve to her. After she got my sisters to sleep she kept me awake giving me my first sexual experience with another person. I'd learned to masturbate when I was nine from some older guys I hung around with but I'd only begun to ejaculate semen about three months before Elaine. She sucked my penis, taught me to eat pussy, how to fuck her, and how to totally enjoy sex. Elaine was a wild girl and we had sex often until her father got stationed in England. After Elaine I couldn't get enough pussy.

I bedded only the female sex until Richard Mayo had walked into the bar one night and I knew he was going to be my first man. It was a wonderful experience but I didn't have another man until Sugar a couple of months later. Then a week or so later, a young guy who played with a rock band swept into the bar. He'd named himself Ringo after the famous Beatle and I should have known better. We fucked and smoked pot in his room during his three night stay and the day after he left half of my co-workers told me how he'd described our sexual acts in graphic detail at almost every opportunity. I was humiliated at being outed and felt my life was over but I survived it with a reputation as a sexual Lothario who'd bed both men and women in my lust for sex.

Part of the way I survived was Luther. The morning after my outing I was walking along the beach instead of running and I guess my despondency was clear to Luther. He'd almost forced me to his condo where I sat while he administered what he called 'Luther psychoanalysis'. He did a good job and made me understand I feared his effeminate mannerisms because I was afraid I'd turn into a screaming queen since I'd had sex with another man. He got my head on straight and made me more accepting of my bisexuality, of the fact there are many gay men who are not at all effeminate. The intimacy of our conversation turned into sex that day as Luther took advantage of my vulnerability to get me to fuck him. He was a dynamo in bed and my fourth male. We fucked a couple of times more and then he fell in love with his latest companion, Buck, a man in his forties. Buck was a nice enough man, a chiropractor in Indian Rocks, but I felt he was using Luther. Luther was not just retired from the drag queen circuit. His grandfather had made millions with his dishwashing liquid formula and Luther was one of his heirs.

I was snapped from my reverie by Yannick slapping on my back. Luther had been busy chatting with Yannick. The many facets of Luther's character always surprised me, none more so than he was familiar with Yannick's baseball career and a huge fan. We walked up to Luther's condo so Yannick could autograph a photo Luther had on his bedroom wall and I realized where I'd seen Yannick before. I'd stared at his photo while I'd fucked Luther. If I'd thought Yannick was a stud before, seeing him again in his baseball uniform confirmed it and I knew I had to get naked with him. After we left the condo we walked along the beach in silence for awhile.

"How many guys have you had sex with, Yannick?" I asked suddenly.

He blushed. "A few. Not a lot, but a few."

I snorted. "A few as in a few hundred, a few thousand?"

He threw his head back and bellowed with laughter.

"A few thousand? What the hell do you think I am?"

"Hey, don't get all hoity toity with me. I remember reading about that athlete that confessed he'd had sex with over ten thousand women. And another one said he'd screwed at least five thousand."

He made a show of counting silently on his fingers and then he bent over and counted his toes. He looked so cute doing it I slapped his ass and nearly knocked him over.

"You like my ass?" he grinned.

"First things first, how many thousand?

"Maybe a couple hundred women and about a dozen guys."

I couldn't tell if he was joking or serious because his dark eyes were dancing with mischief.

"Wow. So why me? Just a vacation fuck? Don't be shy with the truth. I've had my share of vacation sex."

"Can't it be just because you swept me off my feet the first time I saw you walking across the lobby? You didn't even see me but you knocked me totally off my pins. I followed you out to the surf and it was all I could do not to suck your cock underwater. Is it okay that I just want you to go to bed with me?"

I brushed his windblown hair with my hand.

"You're a nice guy, Yannick. You may want people to think you're a pig but you're really not so bad, are you?'

"So you'll come to my room. I'm in room 617.

"Yeah, you told me. How I'm going to get there without it seeming like it's just for a fuck is what I'm concerned about."

He was silent, thinking.

"You play chess?" he asked.

"Sure, I love the game."

"Great, can we walk past your manager when we get back to the hotel?"

We did. We walked past Mauricio, Mr. Patel, and Steve deep in conversation at the lobby front desk.

I walked on toward the employee locker room and Yannick headed toward the elevators.

"Now don't forget, Rowdy," he yelled across the lobby, "you're playing chess with me in my room in half an hour!"

"I'm gonna play chess, Yannick, you're gonna lose," I yelled back.

I glanced at the management triumvirate and they were in awe, Mauricio's mouth literally hanging open. Naturally, they would know who Yannick was and a celebrity in the hotel was essentially given carte blanche. In the locker room I showered and changed into my typical casual daily Florida attire -- flip-flops, shorts, and a Bucs tee shirt. Shortly afterward I was knocking on the door to room 617. Yannick opened the door, fully dressed in his baseball uniform and cleats. I was surprised and he grinned at me.

"Well, you agreed with Luther when he said I look hot in my uniform. I thought you might like to see me in it up close and personal."

I grinned at him. "You've never had any ego problems, have you? It's true. You do look good enough to eat in that getup. You can't imagine what those tight pants do for you."

"Come sit beside me."

We sat on the couch near the balcony door. Yannick's room was one of our suites designed for a vacationing couple. It was a bedroom that also had a sitting room arrangement on the end closest to the balcony. He sat close to me, my bare leg pressed against his uniform pants and I was surprised at the heat that came from his leg. He smelled of soap and a strong cinnamon-flavored mouthwash. I had a brief moment of worry as I hoped my toothpaste was sufficient. There's nothing that can spoil the romance like bad breath. I needn't have worried as his next move was to move his face to mine and press his lips gently to mine. It was a light kiss and his tongue traced my lips, wetting them, and I tasted the cinnamon. I was absolutely trembling with passion when he pulled back. I hadn't expected to react so strongly to him.

"I want you," he said softly as his lips brushed my face.

I couldn't stand it anymore and I grabbed head with my hand and kissed him fiercely, my tongue probing his mouth in a swordfight with his own tongue. I pulled him down with me as I collapsed onto the couch and he was on top of me. I felt my precum in my shorts and on my thigh because I hadn't worn any underwear. I lay under him as we kissed passionately and his mouth tasted so goddamn good. I've always loved cinnamon and it was like the nectar of the gods sucking it out of his mouth.

His hands were under my shirt playing with my nipples as my arms surrounded him, pulling his body to mine. I'd never made out with a man who was in such incredible shape. I felt the powerful muscles in his back and squeezed his tight ass. He had his athletic cup on and it pressed into my crotch, hard and sexy, as he pushed it into my genitals with the fucking motions he was making. His body covered mine completely and it seemed he was exploring every part of my body. He'd pushed my flip-flops off and was rubbing my feet with his, his cleats still on, one hand now pressing my head into the couch as he kissed me hard and sucked my tongue into his mouth.

At last we stopped kissing after what seemed like forever, gasping for breath, and he smiled down at me, kissing the tip of my nose.

"Let's take this to the bed," he whispered.

Yannick stood up and pulled me to my feet, his warm hand holding mine, and he led me over to the bed. He pulled my tee shirt off me and then pushed me back onto the bed, my legs hanging over the edge. He lifted them and kissed my feet before his lips traveled up my legs slowly, kissing and licking me. Finally he was at my crotch and I felt his mouth cover my penis. Within seconds my shorts were wet as he gently bit and mouthed my hard erection. He pulled my balls out of my shorts through the loose leg opening and sucked them, first one, then the other, and finally both of them together in his mouth. I pushed his head away from me.

"I don't want to come yet," I moaned.

"I want you to," laughed softly.

He raised my legs again and pulled my shorts off me completely and then I was naked for him while he was still fully dressed in his uniform. He continued to kneel beside the bed and then pushed my ass up, throwing my legs over my shoulders. I felt the air on my anus before his lips covered it, his tongue pushing against it, trying to enter my most private place. My body quivered like jelly as he made love to my asshole. It finally gave way to his tongue and I felt its wet warmth enter into my body. I couldn't stand it anymore and I began to pant hard as my body jerked, ready to ejaculate my load. He suddenly moved from my asshole to suck my cock into his mouth. I yelled as my semen began to shoot furiously into his mouth. Never in my life had I experienced such an orgasm. When I finally stopped shaking, he was laying beside me, holding my naked body in his arms, his leg thrown over mine.

"What's with the scar on your neck? It looks like a rope burn," he asked as he kissed it.

"Oh, I had a bad run in with a rope when I was a teenager."

I didn't intend to give him the details and he continued to kiss my neck and shoulders, biting and sucking the skin.

"You don't know how much I've wanted to taste you, to eat your ass out and swallow your cum. It's all I could think of since I first saw you. I've blown several loads in this room masturbating and thinking of you."

His voice was low with emotion.

"My turn," I whispered into his neck.

I sat up and pushed him back onto the bed. I stood up at the edge of the bed and lifted his feet. I licked the leather of his cleats before untying them with my teeth, all the while looking into his dark brown eyes. They were filled with sexual passion. I could see it in his face, feel it in the tenseness of his muscles. I pulled his shoes off and then sucked his toes through his white tube socks before pulling them off with my teeth. I kissed his bare feet and sucked each toe, my tongue licking between each of them before licking and kissing the soles of his feet, nibbling at his ankles.