Date: Tue, 14 Feb 2012 08:19:47 -0600
From: Tom Jacobson <rowdster2012@hotmail.com>
Subject: Orlando Convention - gay encounters

It was a typical business trip.  Long flight, long day, to a builders
convention in Orlando, Florida.  These days they flip back and forth from
Orlando to Las Vegas, and either city is a fun trip for a small town guy
like me - just a territory salesmans rep for a major lumber supplier.
Compared to where I'm from, its the big city, big lights, fancy hotels, and
such.  Doesn't happen often when you grow up in a small town in South
Carolina, country setting and all.  In a way though, its the one time I can
really break loose and enjoy, even the big city, for a couple of days,
without going completely crazy by having to live here each day too.

Small town living will do that to you.  Spoil you.  I can't apologize for
it.  I won't.  I wouldn't trade it for the world.  It can be a slower, more
comfortable, friendlier pace to life, rather than the high tension, high
pressure, that city living foists upon you.

But it can be fun to come to the big city for a short time - to take it all
in, and be overwhelmed by the sights and activities of it all.  A couple of
days is more than enough for most of us.  Damn, the traffic alone of
getting to and from the convention center raises our blood pressure perhaps
even faster than all you folk who live here day to day.  But its the city
lights at night that we appreciate, or can anyway, that remind us of the
millions of stars we are fortunate to call our own out in the rural
countryside.  And it can be seductive.  And intoxicating even.  The hotels,
the crowds of tourists and people, the Disney and other theme park
attractions, the incredible, and not-so-incredible, restaurants and other
eating and drinking establishments.

Its a saturation of sorts.  One where we come, and between working the
show, and endless client and manager meetings and various dinners and such,
are easily overwhelmed by it all.  At least the rookies are, or quickly can
be.  I'd hardly call myself a grizzled veteran or anything, but at 41 and
freshly divorced with no kids, I've been around the block a time or two.

Yeah, yeah, I know.  Divorce sucks.  I'd hardly recommend it for anyone.
But I'm in the sales game.  I'm the outgoing one, the one with personality,
so to speak.  So how come I fell for someone with depression?  I don't
know.  Its not like I didn't see all the red flags and all.  I did.  I also
simply ignored them, and thought I'm so "freaking happy-go-lucky", I can be
happy for the two of us.

DON'T do that.  Don't do what I did.  It wasn't misery, mind you, but it
certainly wore down to it after all the "shine" had rubbed off of our
relationship in the beginning.  I ultimately decided that I have a right to
be happy too, and I was tired of having someone else pull me down
continually to their level, instead of being open to me trying to pull them
up to mine.

Bottom line?  Some people simply DO just choose to be miserable, and I had
a right to be happy too.  Oh, did I forget to mention that our sex life had
ground to a screeching halt as well?  Well, it did, and being the
supportive "nice" guy for far too long, trying to help my now, ex, wife,
back to mental stability, just plain wore me out.  Sure, I'm not the sexual
jackrabbit I was back in my 20's, but hell, ANY guy needs some every now
and then.  I've stayed in decent, if not downright good shape, and I need
to blow my wad every other day or so still.

It all came to an end not one year ago, when I told her on the day before
Valentine's Day, and one month before our 7th wedding anniversary, that I
wanted a divorce.  And barely 7 or 8 weeks later, there was a moving van in
our driveway and she was packing her belongings, and everything that I no
longer cared about, to move out of state.  That hardly ever happens, I
guess, but I was one of the lucky ones, and never have to worry about
running into her again.

And another thing.  I'm happy again.  Deliriously happy, as a matter of
fact.  Much as I would have loved to have had kids, its made moving on a
hell of a lot easier.  I'm dating again, traveling more, and having more
fun than I have in years.  And there's a lot of other people, it seems, in
my boat.  We're the generation of easy divorces, I guess.  The ones who
can't make lasting commitments.

That's OK, I'll figure it out.  The one good thing is that I've got a large
circle of good friends.  I'm in the building trades, and I live in the
country.  Would it surprise you to know that I've got more than a few
friends who are lesbians?  Its no big deal, certainly to me its not.  I'm
in the people business.  I'm everyone's friend.  I can read people from a
mile away, and the only ones I don't need to be friends with are the ones I
would never do business with.  And for me, those folk are easy to spot.

Anyways, strangely enough, my lesbian friends were the ones who quickly
"brought me into their fold", so to speak, right after my divorce.  Maybe
it was because they already knew I was of no "threat" to hit on them, since
I had known them for so long.  And maybe it was simply because you're kind
of colorblind to all that nonsense anyway when you are true friends to
begin with.

Of course, what was funny was that my ex simply despised these gals.  To be
fair, she pretty much didn't like ANY of the friends I brought to our
relationship, probably because I had a past or history with these people,
and she didn't know of them or trust them well enough to want to be around
them.  The only people we socialized with were the ones we met as a couple.
Of course, I simply thought it was hysterical when these gal pals would act
like they were hitting on her, or ME more so, at parties and such, when she
knew damn good and well that they were "playing for the other team".  And
gay guys flirting with me simply drove her up a wall.

We had good laughs at her expense.  Of course, I tried to do it discreetly
if I was going to be blatant about it, but mostly it was simply to get her
out of that damned insecure shell of hers if I could and join the party.
She never saw it as anything more than everyone ganging up on her.  Her
loss.  These were good friends.  I've never been bothered by the
alternative or gay lifestyle, probably because I was never that
over-the-top blustery jock or anything.  I was the guy who got along good
with everyone.

That brings us to now.  To Orlando.

I'm a company guy.  My territory is pretty much all of North Carolina and
I've been with the firm for nearly 10 years, and I"ve done well.  I rode
the wave up, and survived the crash down.  Things are looking up.  But the
big homebuilding show is one where all the territory reps come in and help
the company work the convention floor, when you've got 10's of thousands of
attendees walking the show.  Doesn't sound like hard work, but its
downright brutal at times.  Of course, maybe thats more true of the guys
who don't enjoy their work as much, or are the younger bucks who don't know
how to manage their time, and who still go out and party half the night,
when they still have to be at work awfully early in the morning.
Ultimately the seasoned managers can't tell the younger salesmen (and
women) to NOT go out, but generally simply tell them to not overdue it, and
then let the chips fall where they may.

I'll work the long days, and I'll even do the client dinners at night, but
when that's done, GENERALLY so am I.  But something happened the second day
of this show that was a most awesome surprise.

The weather has been nice here in Florida.  Hell, its February and its
sunny and 70 in Orlando.  When ISN'T it a beautiful day here?  From day
one, I leave my hotel and park in a convention center parking garage about
a mile away, and make the morning walk to the center in the fast warming
sunshine.  Lots of people both work and attend this show, so there are all
sorts of people about and walking in.  Though its hardly a curious thing,
one of the things I notice is all the pedal taxis that are in the area.

These are generally the younger guys on their bikes or mountain bikes, who
have created taxi rigs to carry people to and from the convention center
who are either too tired or lazy to walk anymore.  No big deal, they're
everywhere, wheeling people in from the remote parking lots, and then
riding out to pick up more.  They're generally not as busy in the mornings
as the end of the day, when everyone is plain beat from a long day of
standing or continually walking the huge convention center space.  Some of
these guys are good, and successful, and others not so much.

I kind of look at it as I do my sales job.  These guys are on the front
lines.  You'll get more customers when you've got a happy, outgoing
personality than the aloof jackwads smoking a cigarette and not taking off
their sunglasses.  Its classic sales, and some of them are simply better at
convincing customers to pay them for a ride than others are.

Day one and I'm at the show way early, helping to set up and put out all
the company literature and such.  At 9:30 sharp, the doors open and a crush
of people descends upon the convention center showfloor.  Its a long long
day.  I didn't even notice it, but I never once stopped all day, even for
lunch, beyond a water and bathroom break.  Don't get me wrong.  Days like
that are good.  When you are busy and engaging, and seeing all your
customers, as well as all the potential customers you hope to win, they go
fast.  Its only at the end of the day that, when I'm walking out and
heading to my car in the parking garage a mile away, I realize how beat I
am.

As I'm heading out, these guys are out in numbers, hustling up business.
I'm walking the gauntlet, and a particularly engaging guy must have noticed
how I was dragging, and immediately hit on me.  "Hey man!  You need a ride
to your car, I can tell.  Take a break, I'll give you a ride".  Damn, the
words alone somehow got my attention, even if there were from another guy.
I look up and there is this young guy, late 20's I'm guessing, but maybe
even early 30's, straddling his mountain bike.  I can't tell you why I
noticed this, except that maybe I always wondered.  He's probably about my
size, 5'9" or so, but he's tan, toned to where even I could tell, and has
this mussy black hair.  He's wearing shades in the late afternoon sun, and
a shit-eating grin a mile wide, as he's chatting me up.

"I'm Anthony" he says.  "Whats your name?"

"The name's Tom" I wryly resond, as I am, for some reason, I'm sizing this
guy up.

"Well Tom, I can tell you've had a long day, and you could probably use a
little relief.  Why don't you let me give you a ride and get you off your
feet?  We just work for tips.  You just pay us what you think we're worth
for however far you want to go".

Damn, how sexually provacative can a sales pitch possibly be?  As you can
tell, it certainly got my attention, and I can't really say why.  Maybe its
just the natural salesman in me that makes it easy for me to pick up on
stuff like that, whether they are well intentioned or not.  But I look at
him and respond "Anthony, I appreciate it, but I'm good.  Its not that bad
of a walk for me to my car.  Maybe another time."

"Allright buddy", he grinned, "but you plain look like you're tired.  I'll
look for you tomorrow and you're gonna let me go to work for you".

I managed a "thanks" as he wheeled off looking for another potential
customer.  And it was all I could do as I walked on but to realize just how
sore I was, and how much I wish I had taken him up on the offer.  And as I
thought about it as I walked, I had to keep asking myself, was this guy
somehow hitting on me?  I'm not supposed to be thinking about crap like
that, but everything, it seemed, that he literally said to me seemed to be
sexually charged somehow.  What in the world was going on?  WAS he hitting
on me, and was I, for some reason, interested?

Is this what happens when you're divorced and alone?  That you look for
opportunities to get laid, or just simply get your rocks off?  Maybe its
just when I'm on the road and working, it just seems more so.  I never
looked at guys before.  I was never attracted to them.  OK, I take that
back.  Maybe I did, but I never acted on it.  I HAVE noticed guys before.
Hell, I noticed them all when I was growing up.  I saw them on the sports
fields, sure as hell looked at them in the locker room, knew who was hung
and who wasn't, and who had game with the girls.

Thing was, was that I was also very attracted to the girls too.  That was
what I was supposed to do, who I was supposed to be attracted to.  I wasn't
a player or any sort of socialite stud with the cheerleaders, but I did
just fine, and quite honestly, never really thought anything of it.  I
think that maybe anytime I actually took notice of a guy, anywhere, in
college or anywhere, I simply just never acted on it.  I slept with frat
buddies in the same bed after long drunken nights out.  We walked around
with hard boners in our underwear when we got up and walked around the next
morning.  I NOTICED, but I didn't do anything.

Why is it that 20 years later when I'm alone in my hotel room I'm suddenly
thinking about it?  Is hooking up with a guy, somehow, sometimes just an
opportunity that I never considered before?  That I never paid attention to
before?  Am I just fucking horny and need to get laid?  Or simply need a
good blow job?  I can't tell you why, but the idea of a relationship with a
guy is something I never considered, but the prospect of letting a guy
change my oil is also something I'd never have a problem with.  After all,
they're supposed to be good at that, right?  They give better blowjobs than
girls supposedly, same equipment and all.

Sure, you can blow me, but don't kiss me.

OK, OK, opportunity gone.  He's gone, and I made it to my car just fine,
but I don't think I ever appreciated simply sitting down and grabbing a
drink than I did after 10 hours on my feet without so much as stopping or
slowing down.  Orlando is crammed full of resorts, all catering to the
Disney crowd, which makes it a prime vacation and convention spot.  I had a
nice room in a cool resort with good restaurants and lots of ammenaties.  I
didn't go out or anything that night, but that night as I climbed into bed,
I started thinking.

Big sumptuous king sized feather top bed.  Comfortable beyond words.  More
than slightly drunk, as I lay down.  But I'm not gonna sleep.  Yet anyway.
I'm thinking about this.  About what happened today.  Another guy was
hitting on me.  I think.  I hope.  I close my eyes.  My hands slip into my
athletic grey boxer briefs.  I'm warm.  No, I"m hot.  My balls are hanging
heavy in their sack.  I breathe deeply as I roll them between my fingers,
my cock growing heavier, thickening, lengthening.  This ain't gonna take
long.  I haven't taken care of myself lately.  Its been too long.  I'm
backed up pretty good.  I'm stretching out my legs, balls in my left hand,
as I jack harder and faster with my right.  Normally I need a bit of lube,
something to slick it all up and make it really feel good, but right now my
mind is in overdrive.  They say your brain is the most important sexual
organ.  It is.  For me anyway tonight.  Thoughts are swimming through my
head.  Thoughts I hadn't considered, that I hadn't acted on, in years.
Hell, for EVER.

Shit, I'm thinking of Anthony.  Seriously?  But I am.  He's in my head
right now.  My balls are getting tight.  They feel good in my fingers.  My
right hand is pumping with more and more gusto.  I'm laid out flat on my
back, but stretch my head up and look down at my cock.  Its not huge, but
its a solid 6 and half inches and has decent girth.  I've got it pointed
straight at the ceiling as a jack faster and faster.  I can almost feel my
legs buckling as I quickly reach my peak, now moaning loudly as I start
shooting jet after jet of warm white cum up on my chest.  I'm almost
pointing it at my mouth now, trying to get some of the precious liquid to
land on my own tongue.  Damn, cumming never felt so good.  So
... satisfying.  I don't normally lick up all my cum, but I did this time,
rubbing it on my chest, and slowly sucking my own fingers clean.

Sleep came quickly.  I guess it usually does after a good cum.  I don't
think I even got up once to take a leak or anything.  But I got up quickly
the next morning, hardly even thinking as I quickly got dressed, grabbed a
bite, and headed for work again.  The day went by fast.  Like I said
before, they do when there is so much going on.  Maybe if I was younger I
would have been a bit more distracted, but at my age, the job is important,
and I was all business.  A big convention is a beehive of activity, seeing
prospects, customers, and promoting the company.  But just like that, it
was done again.

And now, as I am heading outside into the bright sunshine of the late
afternoon, I once again head down the path and through the gauntlet of the
bike taxis.  And I won't lie to you, in the back of my mind I was hoping
the guy I met yesterday would make an appearance again.

"The name's Anthony.  You lookin' for a ride today?"  Bam.  There he was.
As I looked over at him he immediately recognized me and flashed that same
wide smile.  "Hey man, I remember you from yesterday.  Almost had you
talked into it.  Bet you regret not hopping on, you looked pretty beat.
Its Tom, right?"

I missed the opportunity yesterday, but I don't think I'm gonna let it go
so easily today.  "Yeah, that's pretty good.  You've got a good memory.
And you're right, I do wish I had taken that ride".  With that, Anthony
grinned with the knowledge that he knew he had me on the line, and all he
had to do was reel me in.

"So, you gonna let me go to work for you today?", Anthony prodded.  And
just like yesterday, all these cliches just leaped to the front of my mind
as being supercharged sexual suggestions.  Was it just me, or was he
hitting on me?  Proceed carefully.  "Tell me again how much its gonna set
me back Anthony".

"Twenty bucks man, and I'll take you anywhere".  Anthony was confident he
could name his price and I wouldn't hesitate, but I did.  "Awww, man,
Anthony, that's not what you told me yesterday.  For $20, I better get a
drink and a blowjob".

Holy Shit!  Did I just say that?  Thats not me, but sure enough, I was
swinging for the fences, and I sure as hell did.

As I looked over at Anthony, he was grinning obviously knowing he had hit
the jackpot.  "Done!  Climb on in and I can make that happen for you.  Just
tell me how far you want to go".

Jeez, man, what in the world was I doing?  Anthony was saying, no, more
than that, he was DOING, all the things that were simply unmistakable, to
even a total rookie like me.  But for me, on this trip away from home, I
wasn't going to let the opportunity slip through my fingers this time.
"Hop on in, and tell me where you want to go", he encouraged me, and I did.

I settled in and pointed out where my parking garage was, and we were off.
Anthony was chatting away as we rode on, asking me all sorts of questions
about me and my work.  I couldn't help but notice his incredibly toned and
tan legs as we rode.  By my best guess, he was probably latino or cuban.
Considering all the questions he was asking me, I asked a few of my own,
and he confirmed his parents were from Cuba, and he worked in the computer
graphics business for a major Miami developer.  When the economy pretty
much crashed, particularly in the state of Florida, he started picking up
decent money in the bike taxi business, and it kept him in good shape too.

It did.  Funny how I noticed that.  His calves were almost rippling as he
pumped away on the bike.  I always liked good legs on girls, especially on
the soccer field, so I guess I was a leg man on MEN too.  I really didn't
know what to expect, as I had never done this before, so I pretty much just
decided I'd follow his lead.  Sometimes in life you just have to make
things happen, even if that simply means paying attention to situations
that in the past I had long ignored.

When we got to the parking garage, all of a sudden I realized how perfect
the situation was for this to happen.  A crowded and dark parking garage
offered plenty of cover and discretion for us.  Anthony parked the bike rig
outside near a restaurant where he said he frequently got a beer after work
at, so no one would question it being there.  As I told him I really wasn't
sure what he wanted me to do, he looked at me and smiled.  "You really
HAVEN'T done this before, have you?  No worries.  Where are you parked?"

I pointed out where I was, and as it turned out, I was parked pretty much
on the back row, and I was backed in, so the back seat of my Nissan Altima
rental car would offer a private spot that no one would notice.  Anthony
pretty much took charge of the situation, and was clearly someone who had
done this before.  He directed me into the back seat, and as he climbed in
after me, he pushed the front drivers seat up against the steering column.

In a sense, I was kinda backed into a corner, as it looked.  I must have
seemed to have that "deer in the headlights" look on my face, but Anthony
had a calm demeanor about him that put me at ease.  As he sat down next to
me, he put his hand on my leg and started slowly stroking it, asking me
what I might want, talking softly, but not too much.  The guy was clearly a
pro, and knew how to handle nervous guys like me.  I closed my eyes and
started breathing heavier, as my cock started responding to this welcome
attention, something Anthony commented on.  As he started tracing the
outline of the bulge in my slacks, he used the extra room he had created by
moving the drivers seat to turn over and give my crotch his full attention.

In no time at all, my belt and slacks were undone, and Anthony had deftly
slid down my boxer briefs to my knees, freeing my cock from the confines of
cotton and elastic, allowing it freedom to respond directly to his attack.
As he took my cock gently in his right hand, his left cupped my tightening
balls in their sack, and probably the last thing I heard, or even paid
attention to, was a faint "nice", as he settled into my lap and gently
kissed the swollen head of my growing cock.

Words simply cannot describe the kids glove treatment I received, and how I
immediately responded with deeper breathing and light moaning.  Truth be
told, it had been years since anybody had gone down on me like this, so I
was probably an easy mark for him.  As he lightly squeezed and rolled my
balls in one hand, he was licking the length of my shaft, as he slowly
started jacking on me, bringing me in short order to full hardness.  As he
pushed down his grip around the base of my cock shaft, the head was larger
and bulbous from this action, and my hips pushed up in response.

It was an invitation that he could not resist, and as he kissed the
straining head, he then fully engulfed me with the precision of someone
with immeasurable experience.  If I had been holding my breath, I clearly
let him know I appreciated his skills, as I moaned in pleasure and put my
hand on the back of his head.  His tongue swirled around my shaft, and
while I hold no records in the size department, it was as if he was deep
throating me as he pushed my cock into the back of his throat and he dug
his nose all the way down to my nest.

Damn, the sensations shooting through my cock, and my body, were
overwhelming.  I was writhing in response to his increased pistoning up and
down my cock, as he gently squeezed on my balls, intensifying my pleasure
immeasurably.  His right hand was up on my chest, almost giving him balance
as he ground up and down on my cock, which was pulsing almost in response.
He read me like a book, and knew not just what he was doing, but how to do
it like a seasoned pro, and my body would not betray this assault.  As if
an expert tongue, tracing the base of my cock shaft its length, then
swirling around the head, weren't enough to make me blow, the rythamic
pistoning of my cock deeply fucking his mouth, surely was, and it couldn't
be difficult to tell.  My groaning was growing louder, my hips were
thrusting up to meet his sucking, and my legs were tensing as the cum
quickly moved from simmer to boiling.

I was gritting my teeth and letting him know it, and just as I was about to
blow, Anthony was jacking on my shaft when he took my balls and simply
inhaled them.  Now I absolutely love the attention my balls get, and this
was the trigger I needed to simply erupt.  I guess I would have loved it if
I had been shooting into his deep throat, but I did not care as my
straining cock shot spurt after spurt with such velocity that it just about
hit the roof of my rental car.  "Good job" Anthony murmured, as he once
again dove on the head of my spent cock, now more sensative than I ever
would have imagined, licking the last vestiges of my sweet cream release.

The release of tension brought on by a good cum made me slump like a rag
doll into my back seat corner, and I must have had a smile of appreciation
on my face that you could see from a mile away.  "You all right?  I told
you you'd appreciate it if you'd let me go to work for you".

"Are you kidding me?  That was awesome!" came my reply.  "You've made my
show, and I"ve still got a couple of days to go".

"Well, then, I'll have to look for you again before you leave, and make
sure you REALLY want to come back to Orlando again one day".  And with that
Anthony tucked the $30 I ended up giving him into his shirt, and quietly
and quickly exited the car, leaving me to collect myself and simply sigh in
relief that I had rolled the dice, and finally payed attention when
somebody was hitting on me.  Orlando really IS a pretty cool town to visit.

If you liked this story of my most recent adventure, then write and let me
know.  All the authors here on Nifty really dig the feedback!

Tom