All My Dreams Pass Before My Eyes - 33. Chapter 33 For Me?

“Do tell, Mr. Gallivan,” Mr. Thinkwell inquired, “Were you able to secure reservations for the Livingston’s at Mrs. Wilkes Dining Room?”

Toby hadn’t seen the hotel manager glide up to his post at the concierge desk. Head down, he was too busy staring at the three text messages that had come in, one after another.

“Huh? Oh, sorry.”

Toby made a pre-tense of typing something into his computer.

“Mr. Gallivan?”

Toby swept the hair out of his eyes. Thinkwell should have chewed him out for not paying attention to what was going on in the lobby of the DeSoto Hotel. But, when he did that thing with his hair, he was so damn cute! He felt a tingle between his legs.

“Oh, yes sir. All taken care of.”

Satisfied, Thinkwell skated away to greet a guest just now checking in. Toby’s eyes went right back to his phone.

“Going to St. Barth’s with the fam for spring break. Mom said u can share a room w/ me :)” From CeeCee.

Tempting. It had been an unusually cold winter, even in Georgia. That girl just wouldn’t quit. The vision of CeeCee going down on him last summer in Montauk was more than a pleasant thought.

“Tobes! Miss ya, u hot lil’ thing.”

A picture of Day accompanied the short text. The arms of a beautiful young man were around his neck. Toby smirked. Missed him? What a joke! He didn’t have a chance against that guy. Posted from St. Barth’s. Naturally, Toby thought, with a smirk.

And then, a message from another Day.

“I hope you are doing well. Just following up to again invite you to campus to meet some associates for a mutually satisfying experience.” From Professor Day.

Toby’s eyes paused for a moment. Memories came flooding back. The thrill of having his wrists bound over his head as he lay naked on the bed in the professor’s suite. He had tried to relive that feeling by himself a couple of times, wrapping his wrists with shoe laces. The experience turned him on so much, he even came once without touching his dick. Just thinking about it now, he started to get that numb feeling between his legs.

Two people approached the desk, the man holding his phone up, pushing it toward Toby.

“Excuse me, but how do we get to the Jepson Center?”

Just as he was finishing marking up one of the paper maps they gave to guests, Ja breezed by carrying a tray. He gave Toby a quick wink.

He worked as a server-bus boy in the hotel’s 1540 Room. Tall, maybe 6’1,” hair cut close on the sides, a large man bun of wiry black hair on the top. Milk chocolate colored skin, bedroom eyes, pouty lips. A slightly effeminate soft voice. Twenty-years-old. They had only exchanged a few words until one day just before Christmas.

That was when he stopped by while Toby was leaning against his desk, slightly bored, daydreaming. Ja dropped a mistletoe in front of him, a flirty smile on his face. Toby looked down at it, a bit confused, then back to Ja’s face.

“What’s that for?”

Ja shrugged. “You know. Christmas.”

They continued to look at each other.

“602, in ten minutes,” Ja finally whispered.

They sat on the bed and talked for a few minutes. Toby was frozen in place when Ja brought his hand up and caressed his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes. Soft kisses followed, then more urgently, their tongues thrashing around inside each other’s mouths.

Previously, Toby had registered just how cute he was. Naked, Ja was something else. Smooth skin, a seductive sway to his hips that Toby hadn’t noticed before. Dark nipples on a nicely defined chest. A luxuriously large cock and a beautiful set of balls, completely shaved smooth.

Ja stood up in front of him, his legs spread. Toby tried to look up at his face but his eyes couldn’t help wandering southward. Short, tightly curled hair on his thighs, his cock bobbing in time with his pulse. Toby licked his lips.

A deep chuckle escaped Ja’s lips.

“Wanna touch it?”

Toby immediately blushed. He giggled nervously.

“Go ahead. I don’t mind,” Ja teased.

Toby rubbed his hand across his jaw. Reaching out with a finger, he tentatively poked at Ja’s cock, making it bounce.

“You can do better than that,” Ja laughed.

Toby reached out again. This time, he wrapped his fingers all the way around Ja’s thick cock. It was soft and rubbery, cool to the touch. It felt great. He could feel it thicken and harden even further in his grasp.

With a cross between a groan and a gasp, he tentatively licked the head, immediately getting a taste of salty pre-cum. A moment later, Toby choked when Ja’s cock hit the back of his throat.

His own clothes ripped off, Toby stared hard into Ja’s eyes, a look of concern on his face. He lay on his back, knees tucked into his chest, gripping his calves. Pressure followed by a lightning jolt of pain as Ja entered him.

“Please,” was all Toby could gasp.

The hurt was intense. And beautiful.

After they both were dressed, Ja looked into Toby’s eyes.

“We should hang out sometime.”

Since then, a few hurried moments, clutching each other, stolen kisses when they were briefly alone. They were planning to get away together for a weekend. Maybe back to his old haunts on Tybee Island.

Toby’s eyes clouded over as he relived the memory. His eyes dropped back to his phone as he tried to figure out how to respond to these messages.

“Can I get directions to SCAD?”

A voice with a familiar rasp.

Startled, Toby looked up.

“Bell!”

“Hey shithead!” Bell responded with a smirk.

Toby bolted around to the front of the concierge desk. They hugged each other long and hard.

Toby pulled back to look at him, making sure he wasn’t some kind of a hologram. Bell’s hair, just as long, maybe longer, his thick eyebrows, almond eyes, always so serious looking, his lovely smooth olive toned skin.

“You look…great!”

Bell looked Toby up and down.

“Ya know, I always loved a man in uniform.”

Toby laughed.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Going to school.”

Toby’s mouth dropped opened. He looked at Bell, confused.

“At SCAD, ya doof!” Pausing for a second, “I transferred.” Pausing again, “Into their fashion design program.”

“Why would you do that?”

Bell laughed.

“Still clueless. I love that about you.” Then, more seriously, “For you.”

Toby looked at Bell, speechless.”

“For me?”

They looked at each other for a long moment. Toby’s eyes filled with tears.

Later, Toby turned on his side and looked at Bell who was now yawning, his arms above his head, in full stretch. They occupied the king size bed in another vacant room, this one on the seventh floor.

“How many rooms does this place have?”

“Two hundred forty-six.”

“Mmmm. Don’t think that’s gonna be enough. We’re gonna have to get you a job at a bigger hotel.”

Toby giggled.

***

“I’ll have a Ketel One martini, very dry. The young lady will have a Dubonnet on the rocks.”

They had just been seated at Viola, the elegant restaurant located next to Symphony Hall. Winston gazed at the beauty sitting across from him, someone who had turned more than a couple of heads when they entered the dining room.

They probably made an incongruous pair. Winston Leonard Day, barrel chested and round, older, bald on top, white hair on the sides and back, white English style mustache, his patented black suit, pearl gray vest, and bow tie. His guest, young, tall, slender, leggy, made to look especially nubile in the short, short skirt. Long, dark hair, parted in the middle. Scintillating light blue eyes. Luminous skin, pink lips.

“What are you in the mood for, sweetheart?” Winston asked as he perused the menu.

Micah smirked.

“I dunno. I was kind of thinking about a steak.”

“Perhaps you should consider the cod. We wouldn’t want anything to clog up your colon, would we?”

Micah smiled. “Maybe not.”

Winston had stared long and hard at Micah’s image portrayed in several erotically charged photographs at the exhibit. He quickly shelled out the money for one of the books, later carefully examining every picture of the young, androgynous man.

“Da, give me his name and number, for God’s sake!”

Miranda laughed as she read off Micah’s contact information.

“I guess someone is desperate for a pickle tickle,” she teased.

“Perhaps you’d like to come ‘round for a cup of tea,” Winston breathed into the phone. After calling several times, Micah had finally picked up.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Micah had said to himself.

After looking at the caller ID for the third time, he decided to do a little research. Professor of History? Old enough to be his father, maybe his grandfather? Annoyed, repulsed, later a bit intrigued, finally letting go of all previous impulses. This older-younger thing now seemed not only plausible, but kind of exciting.

It took a couple of get-togethers for tea, coffee, and a snack. A few weeks later, Winston finally got Micah over to his house, one of the mansions on a street where many of the university’s professors lived.

“Winnie, where’s the bathroom?” Micah asked, putting down his glass of wine. He was ready. They both knew it.

He returned, wearing just a pair of panties. More like thongs, cut high to show off his smooth hips. Sitting across his lap, Micah put his arms around Winston’s neck and gave him a deep, open-mouthed kiss. Less than a minute later, the panties were on the floor, Winston’s fingers exploring the region between Micah’s legs.

Micah enjoyed getting ravaged by this stately gentleman more than anything he’d ever experienced. His hips pushed up, he giggled as Winston rimmed him deeply, his mustache tickling his perineum and balls. Introduced to the dungeon, the dark and foreboding lower level, Micah let Winnie tie his wrists overhead, his ankles cuffed in a spreader. He tortured Micah relentlessly, forbidding him to cum until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

They had a plan now. Micah was graduating in the spring. Skirting the U’s regulations about faculty and students fraternizing would soon be a moot point. A room in Winston’s house had already been set aside for Micah’s studio. Big windows, lots of light to pursue his painting.

Shrimp cocktails had just been served. Winston looked at Micah quizzically.

“Yeah?” Micah dipped a piece of shrimp in his cocktail sauce.

“Say, I wonder. Would you mind slipping into the ladies room and removing your panties?”

Micah smirked.

“Sure. You want ‘em?”

Winston just smiled.

When Micah returned to the table, he tossed his panties on the plate in front of Winston.

“You can now do me a favor, old man.”

“What’s that?”

“Put those over your face.”

Winston glanced around. No one was looking.

“It would be my pleasure, young lady.”