The Cock, Bryant Park Hotel, July 28, 2007 (Sat)

He stood to my right, slightly behind me. It was hard to see what he looked like because The Cock was very dark. He wore very thick glasses, had a buzz-cut, and was slightly shorter than I am. He was looking at me with interest. That was nice since I had been going from bar to bar since eight, G Lounge, Urge, and the Eastern Bloc, hoping to hook up with someone. It was about one-thirty when I saw him looking at me.

He grazed my back with his chest, a couple of times. I understood the flirtation but decided not to flirt back. Later, when he reminded me that I did not respond at first, I said I was shy. D. corrected me, that I was not shy, but was hoping to find someone better looking. I did turn round and give him a smile. I wanted to be friendly. I also wanted to keep my options open because it was still early at The Cock.

The smile encouraged him to hug me from behind. His hands moved slowly over my chest and stomach, then slipped below my shirt. Still facing ahead, I squeezed his butt-cheek. When his hand moved into the front of my jeans, I took the chance to free myself from him, giving his hand a squeeze, to tell him I was not mad or anything like it. If I were more suave, I would have said something nice to him about his soft touch. But I was thinking of the ring of fat around his waist when I moved away.

We saw each other again, later, outside the one bathroom. He hugged me from behind, very hard. He was very strong. By then, the bar was so crowded that we were often pushed by the urgent bodies. I was hoping that D. would ask me go back with him, but he did not. I dropped a hint by asking how he got to the bar from his hotel. He said, by cab. That night was his last night in the city before he headed back to San Francisco, so he probably wanted to stay out as late as possible. But I was tired, and, after waiting for some minutes, I told him I was heading home. He asked me straightaway if I wanted to go back with him. I was really tired, and that made me hesitate for just one moment before saying yes.

I told him I needed the bathroom first. Joining the line, I unwrapped the Viagra, half a pill, from my wallet and swallowed it quickly, afraid that the security would think I was doing drugs. It was difficult to swallow without water. I take Viagra when I think that the person I want to be with may not be attractive enough to make me stay hard, but I like him enough to want him (and me) to feel good during sex. My doc gave me a prescription, and told me that my insurance would cover the cost. My insurance does not, and so each pill, 100 mg, cost me about 10 bucks.

We took a cab to Bryant Park Hotel. I offered to split the fare, but he said he would charge it to his account. The hotel was very posh. D., or rather, his company, pays $400 a night for his room. The room was very white, and big for NYC. The furniture was minimalist in style, all planes and glass and metal. A flat plasma TV faced the bed, which was covered in sheer white sheets.

I had barely removed my shoes when D. crushed me to him. He unbuckled my belt, unzipped my jeans, and then lowered my white briefs. I took off his shirt, and the two of us, without words, undressed ourselves and got into bed. I could see him properly for the first time. He was good-looking, not at all owlish. He was forty-two but looked younger, not by very much because of the lines on his face. The lines in his eyes made him look strong and kind. His face was freckled, as were his broad shoulders and back. His family came from Germany but that was ancient history. He grew up on a farm in Ohio.

His lovemaking was alternatively gentle and rough. He was very verbal, kept asking me what he could do to make me happy. He told me I had "cute little nipples." I had not thought of them as little till then. I also had a cute little chest, a cute little belly, and a cute little dick. His dick was big, it was long and slightly flattened. It had a beautiful pinkish head. To my surprise, I could swallow it to its base without choking. I don't know if that was because I was getting better at it, or because his dick was flatter than others'.

We both wanted him to fuck me. I loved the forceful way he raised my legs over me, and ate my ass. He took out a small packet given by the hotel, and wondered aloud, in the dark, if it was a sewing kit or safe sex package. There were two condoms and a satchel of lube in it. After applying the lube to him, there was nothing left for me, and I felt too dry to take him comfortably. He had a brainwave, and used his moisturizer to lube me up. It was still too painful, and we stopped.

I lay on top of him, and he was so hot and nice that I told him I wanted to fuck him. He told me to go ahead. He was very tight since he was not used to getting fucked. His legs resting on my shoulder, I pressed in very slowly. His face grimaced in pain and pleasure, and I kissed him on the mouth. He tasted sweet, and bristly because of his stubble. I moved in and out a little, but not much. It was hot fucking him. We both agreed we should get some rest and continue tomorrow. But every time we got under the sheets, our bodies found each other, and we were stroking and kissing each other again. I think I fell asleep first.

In the morning, he started sucking my nipples again, and we were rolling together on the bed. He bit my armpits, and that, to my surprise, really turned me on. He was very aroused when I dug my nose and mouth into his collarbone. We both wanted him to try fucking me again. We had used the two hotel condoms. Luckily, I always keep one in my wallet. I tore the Durex packet, and rolled the rubber over his standing dick. His pubes were straw blond.

I got off the bed and bent over one side of it. With only a little moisturizer, his entry was not as painful as I had thought it would be. Once he was completely inside, he varied his in-out movement, giving much pleasure. It was a peculiarly intimate feeling to have someone inside you, his inner thighs banging up against your butt, and you pushing back to meet him. I was jerking off at the same time because that squeezes the sphincter around his dick. I lifted my left leg and rest that knee on the bed, to give him greater depth. Soon I was resting both knees on the bed. I asked him if it was alright for me to come on the sheets. He laughed and said, of course, since he was not the one changing them. I came hard while he was still inside me. It is painful for me to be fucked after I have come, and I was about to tell him that, when he very considerately took himself out. He lay back on the bed, and, while I was licking his groin and pinching his nipples, shot his cum over his chest and belly.

We lay on the bed for a little while, chatting, and stroking each other's body gently. Then I told him I had better get going so that he could get on with the day. I took a shower, got dressed. D. was lying in bed, watching the news, CNBC , I think, on the plasma TV. I wrote my phone number and email address for him. He asked me what I was doing for the rest of the day. Finish reading Love in the Time of Cholera, I told him. He said he could not get through A Hundred Years of Solitude because it has too many characters, and he has a very short memory. I said good-bye, and let myself out.

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