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I'm Not Your Mentor - 2. Chapter 2: Boston

2. Every Mentorship Is Different

If you’ve been a mentor before, don’t expect that this one will be the same. Different people need entirely different things; whether it’s because of their personality, where they are in their career, or the particular issues that they are struggling with.

Reset your expectations every time.

— Employee Handbook: Mentoring

 

Boston

By the morning of the next day, I had spent a lot of time thinking about Jonah Harris, and what—if anything—I should do.

For the first few hours after seeing his photo in the employee directory, I think I was in shock. How had I gone to New Orleans, met an employee of the company, and ended up sleeping with him?

A junior employee? In my division?!

And what was he thinking? Why didn’t he say something? Jonah must have known when I told him where I worked, that it was a bad idea to get involved? Even if he didn’t know that I was a senior VP.

And yet Jonah had not asked me what my actual role was, which made me wonder; had he known who I was? Had Jonah slept with me on purpose? Did he plan to use this to his own advantage? Did I need to report this to HR?

With not idea what to do, I checked the Employee Handbook’s section on Interpersonal Relations.

“Relationships between company employees are permitted as long as the relationship does not have a negative impact on their work or the work of others.”

That was the declarative sentence in the Employee Handbook, but the footnotes went on for several paragraphs. Yet none of that applied, I told myself, if we didn’t have a relationship. And we didn’t have a relationship, at least not now.

And as long as it stayed that way, I probably didn’t need to do anything. But I had an uneasy feeling that another shoe could drop at any moment. I spent most of the following morning sitting in my office, trying to think about an upcoming meeting, but mostly thinking about Jonah and…

“Hi,” said a voice, interrupting my thoughts, and I looked up, and there was Jonah, standing in my office doorway. It was as if I had cast a spell by thinking about him, and he had appeared.

Jonah glanced around, perhaps checking to see that no one was observing, or could overhear us.

“Uh, hi,” I replied, feeling a little freaked out. This was precisely what I did not want to happen.

Jonah took a step into the office. “Can I ask you a question?” he said.

A lot of things went through my head at that moment. None of them good. “Okay,” I said reluctantly.

Jonah stepped in further and started reaching for the door.

“You can leave that open,” I said briskly. The last thing I needed to do was to be in a room with him, alone, with the door closed.

Jonah stood frozen for a moment, his hand hanging in the air, and then he dropped his arm.

I sat there waiting, but Jonah said nothing, and I wasn’t sure what to say—but I did know this had to end.

“You’re in the database department? How's that going?” I asked, trying to sound as casual and business-like as possible. Maybe we could just pretend New Orleans had never happened.

“It’s good…so far,” Jonah said, and he grinned.

“Great.”

Jonah took another step into the office.

I wanted to move backward—to keep a good distance between us—but I decided to hold my ground. The fact that I was in a chair, with a wall behind me, also limited my options.

“Ah, can we talk?” he asked me.

I slowly breathed out the breath that I had been holding in. This was what I was afraid of.

“Not here,” I said as calmly as possible, the first thing that came into my head.

Jonah pulled something out of his pocket and put it on my desk.

“Call me,” he said, and Jonah turned and walked out.

I looked at the piece of paper he’d left on my desk and wondered what to do next.

 

New Orleans

I opened my eyes and saw Jonah lying next to me, his eyes already open, staring at me.

“Hey,” I almost grunted, still half asleep and trying to smile at him.

Jonah grinned back at me. “Hi,” he said.

It was morning, and the sunlight was just poking through the curtains. I had no idea what the time was.

I reached out my hand, and pulled him to me, kissing him. There was no hesitation on his part, and the kiss was good. It felt as good as it had been the night before, but I had to pull away because…well, I had to figure out what was going to happen next. And now I could feel the ‘next morning awkwardness’ coming on; what exactly do you say to someone you hardly know, the morning after having sex with them? Particularly if you think they might have been doing it expecting money?

I mean, it was clear to me he wasn’t a regular prostitute. Anyone in business would have explained the rates beforehand. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t ask for money. Or that he wasn’t hoping to get some. Or that he might not rifle through my wallet when I wasn’t looking.

Those were some of the things I was thinking.

I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he stared at me for a long moment while I didn’t know what to do or say, and then the smile on his face tightened a bit, as though he had made a decision.

“I suppose I should go,” he said tentatively, starting to turn away.

I should let him go, that was my first thought. We’d had fun, but it was best to end it here.

“Do you have to?” I asked him, and I was almost as surprised by my question as he appeared to be.

Yet he was nice to look at, he was fun, and the sex had been fantastic. Somehow, even though my mind just a second before had been thinking I should get rid of Jonah, as soon as it looked like he was going to leave, something else inside me very strongly wanted him to stay.

Jonah paused for a second, and then he turned back and looked at me, a curious expression on his face. He shrugged.

“We could hang out some more…” I said tentatively. “If you want to. We can order room service and spend the morning here, or we could get dressed and go find a place to have breakfast, and go sightseeing. My treat,” I added, remembering his limited finances.

Jonah looked thoughtful. “We could go out somewhere,” he said slowly, as though thinking it through, and my heart fell a little. I’d more than enjoyed the night before, and now that I was more awake, the idea of sex with him again was more appealing than anything else I could think of to do in New Orleans.

He clearly wasn’t interested in repeating the experience. I guess I should have been grateful I got to spend last night with him.

I stared into his eyes for a moment and then nodded. “Okay,” I said.

Jonah gave me a small smile, which then turned into a big grin.

“We can always have a fuck in the shower,” he laughed, and he practically threw himself at me. I hugged him and began kissing him again, feeling his body against mine, and we ended up having sex on the bed before finally moving to the shower.

The water in the shower was hot, and I soaped up my hands and ran them all over Jonah’s warm body, just enjoying touching him. His smooth slick skin was glorious to feel as I slid my hands up and down his chest while I kissed him again and again. Kissed him on the lips, on the face, the neck, the chest. It was like a drug. I couldn’t get enough of touching him, hugging him, holding him, running my hands all over him.

 

Later, as we stepped out of the room, I noticed Jonah was moving a little oddly, almost limping.

“You okay?” I asked him as we walked down the hall.

“Just a little sore,” he said.

With one arm, I reached around his shoulders and pulled him to me in a half hug. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” I whispered.

Jonah laughed.

“What?” I asked, surprised he found my sympathy funny.

By now we were at the elevator, and I pushed the down button.

“I broke my leg a few years back. Sometimes it gets a cramp,” Jonah explained.

“Oh,” I said, feeling myself blush.

“It usually passes in a few minutes,” he added.

The elevator door opened, and there was an elderly couple standing inside. They moved slightly to one side, as Jonah and I got into the elevator, standing on the opposite side. The door closed, and the four of us stood there, politely ignoring each other, as the elevator went ding, ding, counting down the floors.

Jonah leaned over to me and whispered. “Though my ass ring smarts a bit,” and we both dissolved into giggles.

The other couple glanced at us, clearly thinking we were lunatics.

 

We found a nice little restaurant that had a jazz band playing, and ate a late brunch—or early lunch—and Jonah talked some more about college classes and his professors, and about the video games he liked to play.

Jonah asked me about the company I worked for, and what that was like, and I asked him about his new job. He said he didn’t really know a lot about it. He didn’t mention the company name, or what they did, but he said it was a medium-sized company, and that he was excited because it looked like a great opportunity to learn. He also admitted that he really needed the money. It didn’t even occur to me that he might have been a little evasive.

I wanted to ask him about his family, and about the—I assumed—ex-boyfriend, but I felt those topics were off limits.

We talked a lot about videos games. Jonah liked first person shooters while I preferred flying games.

“You should try War Wings,” I told him. “Do you have a tablet?”

Jonah shook his head. “I have a phone,” he grinned.

“I think you can play it on a phone, but a tablet is probably better.”

Jonah nodded.

I paid for lunch, and we walked out of the restaurant and stood on the street looking at the people walking by. I think we were both wondering what to do next, and though I didn’t know what his plans were, I just wanted to spend more time with him.

And take him back to my hotel room again.

“You want to walk around and do a bit of sightseeing?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” Jonah said, then added. “Though I should probably change,” and he pulled at the t-shirt he was wearing as though it was sticky.

“When do you leave?” I asked him.

“Day after next,” he said.

I toyed with the idea of turning this into more than just a long date.

“I leave the same day,” I said slowly.

“Yeah?” Jonah said, turning to stare at me, a questioning look on his face.

“You want to pick up your things and stay with me until then?” I asked him.

It was impetuous, and I was almost as surprised as Jonah that I had said it. But my belief is; if you don’t ask, you won’t get. We’d had sex multiple times, the lunch had been as fun as the night before—we didn’t seem to be bored of each other yet—so I figured there was a chance he’d be amenable to spending the next couple of days with me. And if he didn’t, well we weren’t going to see each other again anyway, so it didn’t really matter if he was a little offended by my impetuousness.

Jonah looked at me, thoughtfully.

“You sure you want me to?” he asked, and it really seemed as if he wasn’t sure that I did.

“I like hanging out with you,” I assured him. “I’d love you to stay.”

Jonah grinned.

“Okay, sure,” he said, without even seeming to think about it.

“Let’s get a car and get your stuff,” I suggested.

We walked a couple of blocks and then ordered an Uber to take us out to his friend’s place.

“Do you want to grab your stuff and come back, or do you want to hang out with your friend for a bit?” I asked him just before we arrived.

“Oh. I don’t think they’re there. They’ll be working. I’ll just grab my stuff.”

I asked the Uber driver if he could wait and take us back to the hotel, and he said ‘sure,’ so it was a very quick stop, and then a return drive to the hotel.

Back at my hotel, we went upstairs, and Jonah picked out fresh clothes.

When he stripped off the clothes he was wearing and stood naked in front of me, I had to grab him in my arms and feel him all over, and we ended up on the bed, licking each other all over and jerking each other off.

By the time we showered and got dressed, it was late in the afternoon. Where had the day gone, I wondered? Time with Jonah seemed to fly by.

“Hey, you want to go on a swamp boat tour tomorrow?” I asked him, holding up the brochure I’d taken from a display stand in the lobby when I’d arrived. At the time, I hadn’t really been that interested; doing a tour like that on my own didn’t seem very exciting to me. But with Jonah for company, I thought it would be fun.

Jonah looked at the brochure from across the room.

“You planning to feed me to the gators?” he asked, smirking.

“Of course,” I replied.

Jonah came over and looked closely at the brochure. “That looks kind of fun…but I don’t think I can afford…”

“I’m paying,” I interrupted him.

“You don’t have to,” he insisted.

“Well, it’s no fun going on my own, and I want you to come, so I’ll pay for your ticket.”

Jonah still looked unsure.

“Hey, look,” I said softly, reaching out and gently stroking the side of his face. “I like your company. I’m happy to pay your way, and you don’t have any obligation. If you want to go back to your friend’s at any time, if you get sick of hanging out with me, that’s okay.”

“I’m not…it’s not that…I just don’t have any money, and I don’t…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I interrupted him. “Please. It’s not that much, I’m happy to pay it. We’re friends, right?”

Jonah nodded a little reluctantly, but I hugged him and kissed him on the lips, and he finally smiled again.

I loved his slightly crooked smile.

It took a few minutes to call in a reservation for the swamp boat the next day, and then we went out and walked around. At an old cemetery, Jonah read the inscriptions and made up silly stories about how the people died.

Walking back, we passed a pharmacy.

“I need to get some stuff,” I said, pointing at the pharmacy.

“Yeah?” Jonah asked impishly. “What?”

I paused. I’d been fucking him, had his cock in my mouth and licked his ass, so why did I feel embarrassed talking about buying condoms?

“I need to get more condoms, and lube,” I said, doing my best not to stare into his eyes as I said it.

“Yeah?” Jonah said. “Think you're going to need them?” he asked teasingly. He was grinning, and I hugged him quickly.

“I was really hoping, yeah,” I whispered in his ear. “I brought a few because I thought I might get lucky, I just didn’t think I’d get this lucky.”

I released him and stood in front of Jonah and he grinned back at me.

“Just get the lube,” he said quietly, almost whispered.

I paused, figuring out what he meant, a shiver of excitement running through me. I think he thought I was hesitant.

“I’m clean, are you?” Jonah asked.

“I got tested after John left,” I said. “Because he’d been fucking around, so…”

“I pretty much got tested for the same reason, cause Harry was sleeping around.”

I nodded.

Jonah leaned forward and whispered.

“I want you bare inside me,” and I may not have been hard before, but now I was. I was close to having an orgasm on the street.

“Okay,” I said, pushing him gently away. “I need a minute to calm down so I can go in and buy the damn lube.”

Jonah laughed, and then he glanced down at the front of my pants.

“A huge tube of lube,” I amended, and Jonah snorted.

I went in and bought the lube, and I thought about buying more condoms. I really wanted not to use them, but I liked to be as safe as possible. Jonah said he’d been tested, and I was pretty sure I believed and trusted him, and yet I was a little uneasy. He was evasive about where he lived and a few other things, and it made me wonder if there really was a new job, and how desperate he was for money.

And if Jonah was desperate for money, were there other men he’d been spending his time with, having unprotected sex?

But he was so cute, and the sex was so good, and my dick was doing all the thinking.

Despite the excitement of of anticipation, I managed to lose my erection and buy the lube, and then we went and had a lovely dinner and listened to more music, and around 11 we stumbled back to my hotel room.

The sex was much slower but more passionate and erotic.

And it felt even better to be inside him.

 

Boston

When I left New Orleans, I didn’t know his last name, and I didn’t have his contact information. I didn’t even know that he lived in Boston, and I certainly didn’t know he was going to be working at the same company I worked at.

In my division.

But now I had his phone number, written on a piece of paper.

When Jonah had given me the piece of paper, I decided it would be best to call him that evening from home. I didn’t want to call him from my office, and I also knew that if I waited too long, he’d just come back to my office.

Home is a large, modern four bedroom house with a swimming pool in the suburb of Lexington. It is really too large for one person, but at the time I figured I needed rooms for friends to stay, and a space big enough to throw parties. The only problem was, I was usually too busy to do either of those things.

For a while John had lived with me, and the house seemed to make more sense, but then he left, and I was back to wondering if I should just sell it and get a condo in Cambridge somewhere.

When I got home that night, I put the piece of paper on the kitchen island while I went and changed, made dinner, and deliberately tried not to think about what I had to do.

I knew that I had to call Jonah because if I didn’t, he’d turn up in my office again, and I didn’t need that. What I needed was for him to forget that we had ever met and that we had ever spent a few days together in New Orleans.

What happens in New Orleans, stays in New Orleans. That needed to be the mantra; even though I was still having dreams about Jonah, and often thought about him at random times.

And I also jerked off thinking about him. I’d been doing that way too much, I decided. I needed to start looking at porn again.

We both had to get over it.

Of course, the other possibility that gnawed at me was that Jonah didn’t want to start the relationship again. What he wanted was money, or promotion or something else. In other words, he was going to try and use me. Maybe it wouldn’t be blackmail in black and white, but it would be close as made no difference.

I had to think about what I’d do if things went in that direction. Should I just hang up, or should I ask him for time to think about it, and then let HR know? I wasn’t going to be blackmailed, but I didn’t want him to go to HR before me. That would make things more difficult.

I poured a large glass of wine, but I barely drank it. I wasn’t trying to get drunk, or get up the courage; it was more something to do with my hands while I was figuring out what to say to him.

I think I picked up the piece of paper and put it down again three times, maybe more, before I finally got up the nerve to call him.

Maybe ‘getting up the nerve’ is exaggerating it. Maybe it was more that it took that long to figure out what to say to him. To come up with the words to use, that I hoped would convince him to stop contacting me.

 

New Orleans

“What did you think of me when you first saw me?” Jonah asked. He was lying naked beside me, beads of sweat glistening on his skin.

“I thought wow, he’s hot. I wonder what he looks like naked?” I said, leaning over to run my tongue slowly along his shoulder. I wasn’t going to tell him that I thought he was a prostitute.

“Kind of superficial,” Jonah said, though his tone wasn’t hostile.

“That’s me. What did you think when you first saw me?” I asked, gently running my fingers along his chest.

“I thought, ‘there’s a seat next to that guy. I can sit there,” and he grinned.

“Ah…I knew I shouldn’t have asked,” I joked.

Jonah smirked.

“So you thought I was hot?” he asked, his voice playful.

“Yeah. I think you know that you’re hot. Especially the way you were dressed.”

Jonah made a face like he thought I was wrong, but he didn’t actually argue the point.

“So if you’d seen me at a bar in…” and he paused, as though trying to remember something. “Where are you from?” he asked.

“Boston.”

“Would you have come up to me? Ask me out?”

I considered it seriously for a moment—I tried to imagine it—and then I thought how unlikely that was.

“No,” I said, and his expression of surprise was so funny I laughed.

Jonah frowned.

“Why not? You said I was hot.”

“You are hot,” I assured him, “and completely out of my league.”

“What? Why? You’re okay looking!” and he poked out his tongue.

“I’m okay looking,” I repeated seriously. “Well, that right there’s one reason why I wouldn’t!”

“What’s the other?”

“You’re too young,” I said.

“I’m not that much younger than you,” Jonah said.

“How old are you?” I asked, and I could literally see him thinking.

“Twenty-seven,” he said.

“Really?” I queried. “You want to show me your drivers license?”

For a moment I thought he was going to get it. Jonah actually moved as though he was going to lean down and grab his pants, but then he stopped and looked back at me a little guiltily.

“Alright, I’m twenty-four. People always say I look young,” he added.

“Yeah, you do,” I agreed. I only knew he was over twenty-one because the bar that night had carded him, though he might have had a fake ID.

“How old are you?” Jonah asked.

“Too old?” I evaded. I was too old for him.

“How old?” Jonah persisted.

“I’m thirty-six, so twelve years older, which is too old. All your friends will think I’m your uncle. Or your father.”

“And what will your friends think?”

“That I’ve got myself a toy boy.”

Jonah made another face.

“Monica Lewinsky was 22, and Bill Clinton was, I don’t know. Much older,” he said. “Donald Trump is 24 years older than his wife,” he added.

“What case are you making?” I asked him, curious.

Jonah shrugged. “Twelve years is nothing,” he asserted.

“Maybe,” I said, though I wasn’t sure that his examples were very good ones.

“Well?” he asked, obviously wanting an answer.

“Oh come on,” I said. “You’re not telling me that you don’t normally look at hot guys more your age?”

“It’s not always about looks,” Jonah objected. “What three attributes to do you look for in a guy, other than physical attributes?” he asked.

“What?”

“You heard,” Jonah said.

“Umm…I don’t know. Give me a minute…”

“Well, what three physical attributes then?”

“Oh, face, cock and ass,” I said, and I kissed the tip of his nose, and he snorted.

“Really?” he said.

“Well, they have to have a cock. I don’t really care about the size of it. Just that they have one. I’m shallow that way.”

I reached out and squeezed his and Jonah laughed.

“You have a nice one,” I said.

“So the first thing you look at is face and cock?” he said slowly.

“No,” I said. “Hair, mouth, and eyes.” I corrected.

“What happened to ass?” he asked, grinning widely.

“That comes when they turn around. What about you? I asked.

“Uh…things.”

“Things?”

Jonah stretched out, and looking at him lying naked beside me it was evident how much smaller than me he was. Compact. He may be shorter than average height, but I thought his body was perfect. I couldn’t seem to stop touching him, licking him, rubbing my fingers over him.

“What attracts me is a sense of humor, stability, caring,” Jonah finally said.

“Hmm,” I said somewhat lost in chewing on his shoulder blade. Jonah moved, and I got the sense that this was important to him. I stopped licking and sat up a bit, staring into his eyes. “Well,” I began, “sense of humor, definitely, doesn’t everyone say that? And yet not everyone seems to have a sense of humor.”

Jonah looked thoughtful. “Maybe it means, the same sense of humor?” he suggested.

“Sure,” I agreed.

“What else?” he asked.

“Ah, curiosity too, I think.”

“Curiosity?”

“Yeah, like an interest in things,” I said, and then I climbed on top of him and started kissing him.

“Do you like to top?” I asked Jonah.

“Sometimes,” he said. “Do you like to bottom?” Jonah asked me.

“Sometimes,” I said. “If the guy is really special.”

Jonah nodded thoughtfully.

“You’re special,” I added, and he smiled, and I hugged him tightly.

 

Jonah shuddered against me, moaning loudly, his cum splashing onto his chest and after watching that, and a few more strokes, I came inside him, feeling like I was on the edge of dying. Shaking and thrusting, and grabbing hold of him and pulling him tightly to me, his cum sticking between us.

We hadn’t quite cum together, but it was as close as made no difference.

“I love you,” he whispered, and I looked and saw the need in his eyes.

“I love you,” I whispered, because it was what he wanted, and because, in that moment, I did love him. We kissed, and it was more than just lust, it was caring and sensual.

I knew I couldn’t love him. That he would be gone from my life very shortly, and there was no sense in falling in love with him, but I did love him in that moment.

We kissed with the last of our energy seeming to drain away, and I rolled over onto my side, pulling him with me so that we were lying side by side, and I just wanted to keep his warm, sweaty, sticky, body as close as possible.

 

The second morning came, and it was like we’d been lovers forever. We didn’t have sex that morning, but we spent a long time just kissing each other and rubbing our hands over each other, before getting into the shower and washing each other, and then dressing to go down and wait for the shuttle to pick us up.

The swamp ride was fun, though I honestly remember little about it. I was more focused on Jonah, and what he was saying, and what he was looking at, and how his grin was just slightly lop-sided; not enough to look weird, but enough to make it cute.

I was trying not to be too obvious about my infatuation with him, particularly with the other tourists so close to us, but I’d touch Jonah whenever I could, and he would lean against me or rub against me as he turned, and it was the most excruciating foreplay. With eight other people sitting next to us.

Which made it even more exciting.

If I wasn’t staring at him, or listening to him, or rubbing his arm, or leaning against him, then I was desperately willing my erection to go down.

When we stood up to get out of the boat, I was relieved to see no apparent wet patch in my pants, even though I was genuinely sticky in my underwear.

 

The shuttle dropped us back at the hotel, and we casually walked inside. Jonah didn’t even ask why I was leading him back upstairs to the room.

I grabbed his hand when we got out of the elevator, and we walked hand-in-hand down the corridor to the room. I was practically shaking with desire when we got in the room, and I pushed him up against the wall and started mauling him. I shoved my hand down his shorts, squeezing his erection, and he groaned and started spurting as his body shook.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed.

“I thought I was horny,” I said, surprised, but very turned on by the fact that he’d just orgasmed, and my hand was covered in his semen.

I kissed him, and Jonah grinned, and then he knelt down and took me into his mouth, and I came only a few minutes later.

Jonah stood up with a self-satisfied grin on his face, a little bead of white liquid on the corner of his mouth.

“Looks like you were too,” he grinned.

“Yeah,” I said, leaning into Jonah. “You probably don’t want to go out with that on your face,” and he looked puzzled before I leaned forward and lapped my tongue over the corner of his mouth, and then leaned in to kiss him.

“We should probably save some for later,” he said.

I laughed. “You’re tired?” I asked, maybe sounding a little challenging.

“I could go again,” Jonah said defensively. “I just thought you might need a rest.”

I pulled Jonah into another long kiss. Part of me wanted to go again, just to prove I was up to it, but another part of me said that it was probably a good idea to slow down. We’d been going at it a lot.

“You’re right,” I whispered. “Let's save it for later,” I said.

Which didn’t mean I didn’t spend the rest of the afternoon trying to tease him; touching his dick or squeezing his ass when I was sure people couldn’t see what I was doing.

 

That afternoon we walked through some of the local shops and we came across a music store that had on display in their window dozens of guitars. Jonah paused in front of the store, and because it was clear to me he was interested, I suggested we go in and look around.

Inside the store, Jonah almost immediately took down a guitar and started playing it. He wasn’t brilliant—well, he was no Eric Clapton—but he was capable and more than able to make something that sounded like music.

I’d taken piano as a kid and couldn’t make a melodic noise with a kazoo.

After trying one guitar, Jonah took down another one and started playing that, and we spent half an hour as he picked up different instruments, played them, and then put them back until he found one that he liked the most.

He’d close his eye’s and play a couple of licks, then strum something and, well, I liked looking at Jonah all the time, but it was even more fun to watch him doing something he obviously loved doing.

“You want it?” I asked him, glancing at the price ticket. It was expensive, but I would have bought it for him.

“Yeah,” Jonah said, grinning, obviously thinking I was joking.

“I’ll get it for you,” I said, half serious, half joking.

Jonah laughed.

“I won’t be able to get it into the overhead,” he said.

“Maybe not,” I said, and I paused and then added. “You want it?”

Jonah stared at me for a moment, and then he shook his head and put the guitar back, and without further discussion we left the store.

“What do you want to do for dinner?” I asked him. “You want to go to another restaurant?”

Jonah shrugged. “Maybe we could get something and take it back to the hotel?” he suggested.

“Do you want to go see music tonight?”

Jonah didn’t seem that interested, and I wasn’t disappointed. We’d done that the last two evenings, and maybe we were both tired from the walking.

We found a good barbecue place and got plenty of food to go, and we took it back to the hotel room.

When Jonah had first suggested taking food back, I had imagined we’d just put it on the small table and sit on the couch and watch TV, but Jonah had other ideas.

“Let’s get naked and feed each other,” he said as soon as we got in the door, and at first I thought he was suggesting oral sex before dinner.

Not that I was against it.

But no, he literally meant getting naked, sitting on the bed facing each other, and feeding each other the food. A little surprised, I watched Jonah strip naked, and then he turned and bent over to pick up the bag of food, and his perfect ass made me hard as a rock.

I had to think about other things.

“Come on,” Jonah said, turning to smile at me before climbing on to the bed and sitting crossed legged.

With Jonah watching, I stripped, and a little self-consciously got on the bed. I didn’t think I could sit cross-legged for long, so I splayed out my legs, which made me feel a little vulnerable.

But then Jonah laughed and changed position so that he was doing the same, his legs bent over mine.

And then Jonah worked his way forward until we were only about a foot away from each other, our erections not quite touching.

Jonah grinned widely, and then he glanced down, and he reached out and gently grabbed my cock at the base and slowly slid his hand along its length before letting go.

And then he looked up into my eyes.

“Hi there,” he said, a large grin on his face.

“Hi there,” I said back to him, and I put my arms around Jonah and leaned in and kissed him, turning it into a passionate French kiss.

Eventually, Jonah broke away.

“We should eat first,” he whispered, acknowledging that we were both getting excited.

I was tempted to just grab him and start stroking him, but Jonah had turned and picked up a sandwich and started unwrapping it.

And then he carefully tore off a little bit of the bread and meat, and holding it in two fingers, he held it out to me so that it was touching my lips.

I opened my mouth, and he slipped his fingers into my mouth, and I closed my lips around his fingers, and I tasted the tangy sauce of the meat, and I licked his fingers as he slowly withdrew them.

It was amazing. I wanted to suck on his fingers again and again. But I picked up the other sandwich and unwrapped it and fed a little bit to him. Watching his lips sucking on my fingers.

It was the most erotic meal I’ve ever had.

At one point, he was putting coleslaw on his shoulder, and I would lick, chew, and suck it from his skin. He had his arms around me, and I could feel his chest moving as he breathed, and it was like we were physically joined. I licked the coleslaw out of the shallow trough of his shoulder blade, and then I licked up the side of his neck to his mouth and kissed him.

And he was delicious.

 

To be continued…

Thanks for reading. You can check out my new book on Amazon: They're Watching You. Read my blog or follow me on Twitter.
Copyright © 2019 GabrielCaldwell; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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The story is interesting. I particularly like the time and space jumps. (You mentioned Las Vegas back there by mistake, I think.) Intriguing plot. Can't wait to read more.

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59 minutes ago, Homosapiens said:

The story is interesting. I particularly like the time and space jumps. (You mentioned Las Vegas back there by mistake, I think.) Intriguing plot. Can't wait to read more.

Yes I wondered about that too.  But great story though.

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Ops, yeah, that should have been New Orleans. I'll have to fix that, though I think because I'm still in the moderation queue, if I change it, the chapter might be unpublished for a while....

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They have amazing sexual chemistry.  It’ll be interesting to see how they navigate working with each other and if they revisit being lovers.

I think there is more there than sex.

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