Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Eye Contact - 1. Chapter 1
Eye Contact
Why was he looking at me like that? Was my zip undone? My hand automatically went down and my fingers confirmed that all was as it should be. So why the look? And then my gaydar pinged and things became a lot clearer.
He was definitely good looking. About six foot tall, slim, but not skinny. It looked like he kept fit, probably played some sort of sport. With that sort of build he couldn't spend all of his spare time on the computer. He was young, older than twink, probably early twenties. His hair was a sort of dark blond, cut fairly short so you could see his blue eyes which seemed to have a sort of sparkle that went with the smile he was now sending in my direction. A quick look round confirmed there was nobody else behind me, so it must have been meant for me. The white t-shirt hugged his chest and upper arms while his skinny mid-blue denims hugged everything below his waist. Naturally they had a couple of rips at each knee.
Yes, he was hot. He definitely rated high on my 'ideal' chart – at first sight at least an eight for outward appearance. Whether that rating would rise or drop would depend on what happened in the near future. Of course how he sounded was important, but what really mattered was what he looked like undressed. He turned slightly side on so his butt became visible. It was cute and filled the jeans well. Now he turned further to complete the circle and on doing so, smiled again and then started walking toward me, wineglass in hand..
“Guess you're here for the conference?” he asked as he stopped in front of me. Almost certainly an involuntary nod of my head before my mouth opened gave him the answer he wanted. “In that case you must have a room.”
Oh yes, my company had booked a room when they decided that we needed to have a presence at this conference which had been grandiosely titled 'The Circular Economy and the role of Plastic Recycling within it.' That was what my firm did, recycle plastic and had been doing for many years, long before it became trendy to do so. We were reasonably well known nationally but the MD had decided we needed to make ourselves better known to the wider world. Hence your truly had been delegated, not only to attend, but also to give a fifteen minute speech. That had been delivered during the afternoon session – now it was time to relax.
My hand went into my trouser pocket and emerged holding my key card. He deposited his wineglass on a nearby table and looked at me, eyebrows raised. We exchanged smiles and walked from the bar into the foyer and toward the lifts. Luckily nobody else was waiting so as soon as we entered the one that stood waiting, doors open, he pressed the button to close them. His right hand went into the pocket of his jeans and extracted from it a small foil covered packet. My right hand delved into the top pocket of my blue shirt and emerged with a similar item, but of a different brand. We exchanged meaningful smiles.
“What number?” he asked. There was a great temptation to reply 'sixty nine', but instead my left hand pressed the button marked '7'. The lift started to rise and so did a certain part of my anatomy as he pulled me close and kissed my lips. Before we had reached my floor our tongues were exploring and apparently both liking what they found.
The lift bell pinged. The door started to open. We pulled apart in order to exit and on doing so turned left toward my room. Before we got reached it he pushed me against the wall of the corridor to engage my lips and tongue once more. At the same time though one of his hands was undoing the buttons of my shirt while the other was rubbing over the fabric of the front of my suit trousers.
It was hard to stop him, but being stripped in a hotel corridor was not on my agenda. After a struggle we eventually managed to reach the door to my room. The key card did its job and he pushed the door closed behind us as we entered. The double bed stood there invitingly, almost demanding to be put to use.
Eye contact was about to turn into personal contact of the intimate kind...
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- 13
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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