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Erotic Story:
And Andrew Finally
Fucks...
...O'Hare
was fucking snowed in, and we were going nowhere. There was a
near riot at the ticket counter and the frustrated clerk took
his vengeance by pulling the names of non participants to get
into the hotel shuttle first. I had stood off to the side next
to a quiet man from St. Louis, so we were among the first to
get loaded up and taken to sanctuary.
...My
quiet friend and I were given a nice double room on the 5th
floor. I stared at him out of the corner of my eye as we rode
up the elevator. About my height, 6'1", good build, brown
hair, and startling gray eyes. He was dressed in a well-cut
suit that discreetly hid whatever he had between his legs. We
had exchanged names, his was Andrew, mine is Robert, and we
both hated the diminutives. In the room, Andrew went into the
bathroom to take a shower, and Robert sat down on the bed to
adjust his hardon and wonder why O'Hare had to snow me into a
double room with the quiet, gray-eyed man. Shit, I thought.
...I
stripped, and was contemplating what to put on when the
bathroom door opened suddenly. Andrew walked out with a towel
wrapped around his waist. He stopped when he saw me naked,
then froze when he saw the hard cock. We stood there and
stared at each other, until I noticed the front of the towel
had started to bulge. He looked down at himself as if he'd
been betrayed, and his face turned pale. I felt sorry for him,
and walked toward him slowly. "It's cool," I said, with a big
smile. "I've always thought stiff cocks were contagious. Kind
of like the flu." Being nice to him made it worse. He looked
at me, swallowed hard, and cleared his throat. "I want to so
bad it hurts," he said, his voice cracking. "You got on in New
York, looked at me, and...I want to. I never have."
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