Date: Fri, 4 May 2018 12:07:36 -0700
From: Paul Landerman <pjwltx9@gmail.com>
Subject: The Old Fag- Chapter Three

THREE

	Several weeks later, Mason's phone rang in the middle of a Saturday
brunch he was hosting for the community association. The Malibu homeowner's
association to which he belonged had a monthly party to celebrate their
exclusivity from the rest of the plebian world, and these folks were not
ashamed to show off their best jewels on such occasions. When Mason had an
opportunity to return the call, Ross explained that he had quite a story to
tell from the latest adventure in his professional duties at an academic
conference in Mexico City.
	The adventure began long before the conference; Ross and TMGM had
been enjoying an amazing sexual romp for several weeks at Ross's condo in
Atlanta, and had spent nearly every moment together, visiting art museums
and galleries, especially looking for TMGM's favorite art genre in the
Robert Rauschenberg style. They had enjoyed opera, ballet, symphonies,
clubs, and tons of sex. "Probably the best sex of my life" Ross bragged,
and admitted that he had been bottoming for TMGM more than he had been
topping.
	The flight to Miami from Atlanta in first class was nearly empty,
with only Ross and an elderly couple, and an overly-attentive flight
attendant. The flight attendant soon sat next to Ross in the empty aisle
seat in the first row, and asked if there was anything he could do;
"anything at all" he whispered, placing his hand on Ross's thigh. They soon
ended up in the first class lavatory, where the flight attendant seated
himself and immediately took Ross's cock in his mouth and gave him a first
class blowjob. Leaving the lavatory, the door bumped into the co-pilot, who
was waiting in the aisle-way to use the lavatory, and the knowing look on
his face told Ross they had been caught.
	Soon after re-seating themselves in first class, the co-pilot
joined them, with Ross on the aisle seat to the left and the flight
attendant opposite him in the corresponding aisle seat, and the co-pilot to
the flight attendant's right, when he opened the attendant's pants and
began jacking him off quietly and slowly. The flight attendant responded by
sliding down in the seat, and soon came all over the co-pilot's hand. He
hurried to the lavatory to get cleaned up.  Ross immediately replaced him
in that seat, and the co-pilot opened his own pants and Ross began jacking
him off. He soon came; he was an oozer not a shooter, and the cum ran down
Ross's hand, so the co-pilot quickly took Ross's hand and began licking off
all of his own cum. The elderly couple in the last row never woke from
their nap.
	The Miami-to-Mexico City flight was a lot less exciting, because
first class filled up; the flight attendant kept looking toward Ross and
smiling and sighing. When they deplaned in Mexico City, the co-pilot handed
his business card to Ross, and asked for Ross's card in return.
	Checking in at the main desk at the Camino Real Hotel in the center
of the business district in the city, where the conference on international
business finance was being held, Ross felt as though he was being undressed
by every pair of eyes that connected with him. The front desk manager paid
special attention to Ross, calling the bell captain to assist Ross to his
room. The bell captain explained that the special elevator to the penthouse
floor was a little complicated and required a code to use; he stepped into
the elevator with Ross, and punched in the code, and soon they were zooming
to the top of the hotel.
	On the way up, they exchanged looks, then they exchanged a quick
kiss, and then they exchanged a quick feel of crotches, and then they began
rubbing each other in earnest. The elevator ride was all too quick, and
when the bell captain opened the room door and dropped the luggage to one
side and Ross flung his briefcase on the sofa, it was a mere minute before
they were together on the bed sucking two very hard cocks. The bell captain
came first, no surprise since the flight incident, but soldiered onward to
sucking the life out of Ross through his cock. He soon came and they
laughed and hugged and the bell captain made his exit, and Ross lay in the
bed for a short nap.
	The nap was probably less than an hour when a tap at the door
brought Ross back awake. It was the front desk manager, who explained he
wanted to be personally responsible for Ross's every need. The emphasis on
"every" was obvious, and soon Ross found himself deeply inside the desk
manager's ass, como perro, with the manager moaning loudly into the pillows
on the bed and obviously enjoying the fucking he was getting from his
American guest.
	When the front desk manager exited after cleaning himself, Ross was
wondering what kind of a weekend he had stumbled into; this was supposed to
be a conference on international business finance protocols, and his own
presentation the next morning on ethics in financial disclosures was
supposed to be the final session of the morning half of the day. Perhaps
the serious academic side of the weekend would soon assert itself, and he
would be back to normal, he thought, and was about half way through his
second hour of preparations when another tap at the door dispelled that
notion.
	 The room service waiter held a tray of fruit, bottled water,
champagne, and crackers and cheese and cookies, and explained that the
front desk manager wanted to make sure Ross was very comfortable. Ross
directed the young man to set the tray on the dining table in the sitting
room, and when that task had been completed, the waiter turned slowly
toward Ross and smiled and did not make a move toward the door but stood
there smiling expectantly. At first Ross assumed he was waiting for a tip,
but when he held out a twenty-dollar bill, the waiter smiled even more and
took Ross's hand and pressed it to his crotch.
	"Here we go again", Ross thought, and felt he had signed up for a
record-breaking weekend rather than a conference. He took the waiter to the
bedroom, and the waiter was quickly shedding his uniform on the way; by the
time he was on the bed with his ass in the air, the waiter clearly did not
need to tell Ross what was going to happen next. By the sounds the waiter
was making, he had cum far in advance of Ross, and the wet blotch on the
bedspread was evidence that this young man had been saving up a load of cum
for this moment.
	As the waiter left, Ross was wondering if he was going to get any
rest at all, thinking perhaps if he went to the lobby bar and had a drink,
he might be able to calm down and then get some sleep. He was seated at the
lobby bar, so when his cell phone rang it was a little startling,
especially since the number was not one he recognized.
	It was the co-pilot; he reminded Ross of their meeting on the
flight, asking if Ross could perhaps spend some time with him. Ross
explained where he was, and it turned out the co-pilot was down the block
at another hotel and offered to walk up the street and join Ross for a
late-night drink.
	In about twenty minutes, the co-pilot was seated next to Ross and
smiling nervously, and so as soon as he had finished his drink, Ross threw
a twenty on the bar and took the co-pilot by the hand and led him to the
private elevator to the penthouse floor. Ross noticed, but ignored, the
smiles and attention from the front desk staff; this was all getting
bizarre, he thought.
      In the elevator, the co-pilot turned toward Ross and kissed him
lightly on the cheek, and Ross returned the kiss fully on his lips and
passionately ground into his crotch. The co-pilot was shaking with
anticipation and whispered into Ross's ear "I've never done this", and Ross
just smiled and kissed him again.
	When they reached the room, the co-pilot was still shaking
nervously, and Ross gently steered him into the bedroom and slowly began
undressing him. He took an extra-long time doing so, to ramp up the
anticipation and to also assure him who was in control. By the time Ross
opened the pilot's pants, his shirt had been tossed to one side and he
shook as his pants were pushed to the floor, revealing his black Armani
skin-tight boxer briefs and a very hard and dripping cock. Kneeling in
front of him, Ross took the cock through the fabric with his teeth, and
sawed up and down lightly on the hardness, and the moaning it produced from
the pilot was palpable; he wondered if the staff could hear them out in the
hallway.
	He pushed the man onto the bed on his back, crawled up on the bed,
and knelt over him, more to confuse him than to reassure him, and rubbed
his own ass up and down on the man's hardness with the fabric of the shorts
separating them. Ross pulled the shorts down, and then after flinging them
to the side, pulled his legs apart and slowly crawled back up to
crotch-level, taking the hard cock into his mouth and sucking slowly and
dramatically on it.  None of this was reassuring to the pilot, who, having
been drawn into this sexual trap by his own lust and longing could only
plunge forward since the trap which he had willingly entered had already
been sprung. He knew that he was not getting out of this room until there
had been at least one orgasm; he simply did not know whose, or how it was
going to occur.
	But Ross knew; being in complete control of another man's sexual
response was the most titillating thing to occur in his life, and he could
not wait to drag this victim through the gauntlet. Sucking on the fat cock,
slurping loudly and enjoying the taste of pre-cum and then taking both
balls into his mouth, then stabbing a finger tip into the nervous ass hole,
followed by another finger tip, he realized the man probably was almost
ready to succumb to being ass-fucked for the very first time, so he changed
strategy. He grabbed some lube and dramatically stroked the man's throbbing
cock, lubing him generously, and the facial expression rewarded Ross with a
look of bewilderment. He mounted the man's waiting cock and continued
searching inside the co-pilot's ass with his two fingers, and the confusion
the man experienced became even more pronounced.
	Suddenly dismounting, Ross pushed both fingers to the hilt into the
ass, pumping back and forth as if this was the real fuck; he stroked the
cock again, drawing out even more pre-cum and more moaning. Ross grabbed
two pillows from the floor which had been knocked aside and pushing them
under the nervous ass of his victim, placed himself between his legs and
without announcement or grace, began inserting his own now-lubed cock into
the pilot. He was sure there was pain, and he was equally sure the pain
would subside very quickly and would burn into the man's memory, to be kept
there and re-visited every time he had another cock in him. Your first is
always your first and can never be replaced.
	It was not graceful, but it was purposeful; this was a fuck to set
a pace and make a statement and burn a template for this pilot who had
willingly jumped into the cage of the tiger, who had begged for it, and
Ross was very willing to oblige. Ross fucked him, he did not make love to
him, and then in the middle of it, when Ross felt himself on the edge of
cumming and knew there would be a gush of cum into this willing ass, he
pulled out unceremoniously and straddled the cock above him and rammed
himself down on it, impaling himself with the pilot's hard cock. He just as
unceremoniously fucked that hard cock up and down until it was clear the
pilot had passed any form of self-control and was cumming like a fountain,
and Ross was filled with the steaming product of his labor, and immediately
pulled himself off the cock and re-inserted himself into the pilot's ass
and finished fucking him, cumming and cumming and cumming. The bewilderment
was accomplished, and the control which had been forced on the pilot was
complete as well. He would never forget this moment.
	Falling asleep, Ross began wondering why he had done that; clearly,
fucking a man, any man, was an easy thing to do, and with a partner as
willing and lustful as this nervous tiger was, it was no challenge, yet why
had he done that little pas-de-deux with fucking and getting fucked and
then fucking some more?
      And then he remembered: Daniel. His first. It was exactly the same,
and here some two decades later, he was replicating exactly the way Daniel
had first fucked Ross. Ross had passed the location where it happened not
more than once or twice year, and yet he could still remember even today,
the exact setting. He even knew where Daniel was today and what he was
doing with his life; Ross knew about his wife and two children, and how
Daniel had been forced to follow his father in the church he had
founded. He still remembered the way he had felt that very first time
Daniel's cock had been inside of him, and then how he himself had felt with
his cock inside of Daniel. You never forget your first.
	The morning conference session came way too early; the eager room-
service waiter was at his door early with coffee and Danish, and this time
Ross ignored his solicitation for more sex; instead he asked the waiter
what time he got off work and invited him to come back to his room at that
time. He showered and dressed and headed for the third-floor auditorium;
stepping inside the vast room he realized he was late. The introductions
were being made, and he soon heard his own name announced as the final
presentation of the morning session.
	During the first coffee break, still standing near the rear door,
he was tapped on the arm gently by the room-service waiter who asked him to
step into the hallway. There a very well-dressed man introduced himself as
the general manager of the hotel, who wanted to reassure Ross that his
comfort at the hotel was his personal mission for the weekend. He might
drop by Ross's room later, he said, just to make sure everything was
comfortable. This was getting to be way too regular, Ross thought.
	Before the end of the coffee break, Ross was approached by the
conference manager who had been making announcements and introductions and
was asked if he felt comfortable switching his presentation to the first
session following lunch, rather than at the end of this morning session. He
was assured that the second presentation which Ross was scheduled to make,
on Saturday at the end of the morning session would remain the same, and he
was free after that presentation. Ross agreed, and they shook hands; the
conference manager looked directly into Ross's eyes and thanked him
profusely, holding his hand the entire time.
	The conference manager returned to the podium and announced the
session schedule for the conference for the next two days, including the
switch in the presentation to be made by Ross. He also announced a special
private luncheon for conference presenters in the hotel general manager's
conference room on the fifth floor. The sessions dragged on through the
morning, and the luncheon was announced, and the presenters were escorted
up the two flights of stairs from the third floor. It seemed rather strange
to have so much security lurking about, but as it turned out, the Deputy
Assistant Minister of the national Treasury Department was a guest at lunch
and greeted each of the presenters as they entered. When he spoke to Ross,
and shook hands with him, he lingered a little longer than was normal
protocol for a political function; they stared into each other's eyes, and
the feeling was strange and warm. After lunch, a waiter slipped a folded
card into Ross's hand; it unfolded to reveal only "Rm. 1021".
	Developing a presentation on ethics and protocols for international
financial transactions was for Ross a simple task; concentrating on his
presentation and power-point slides during the presentation after a couple
days of almost non-stop sex and now this new mysterious message, was
challenging. Finally working through the twenty-minute question-and-answer
session, Ross was relieved to come to the final slide which displayed his
contact information at his office in Atlanta, and then was horrified to
realize it also contained his cell phone number. He decided he needed to
slip away to the lobby bar for a vodka tonic and then upstairs for a nap.
	In the private elevator ascending toward his penthouse-level room,
he passed level 21 and realized he did not know what time he was expected
in "Rm. 1021" nor who the person was. He arrived at his room, dropped off
his briefcase and presentation materials, and went back to the elevator and
straight to Room 1021. He was greeted at the door by none other than the
Deputy Assistant Minister of the national Treasury Department. He was
invited into the room, handed an ice-cold vodka tonic, and ushered to a
very comfortable sofa facing the corner bank of windows.
	The Deputy Assistant Minister sat next to Ross and suggested that
he had several personal issues he wished to be able to discuss with Ross,
and that discussion might be better if it was away from the capitol, say in
one of the smaller and lesser-known resorts such as Playa Escondida, at the
minister's expense, of course. He needed to find a way to shelter some
external income so that no questions were asked of him in the course of his
work as Deputy Assistant Minister, since his function was to regulate the
banks and financial services firms.
	Ross agreed, finished his vodka, and turned to stand and exit the
room, when the minister said "There is just one more thing." He reached
forward and very gently touched the fly on Ross's suit pants, drawing the
zipper down slowly, and reached inside and stroking the cock hiding
there. For all of his professionalism, savoire faire, experience, and
sexual prowess, Ross actually gasped. Here was one of the most powerful men
in Mexico, one of the most powerful men in the Mexican government, who had
just revealed himself in a way no one else outside of the government was
ever allowed to know. He pushed Ross back against the cushions and pillows
on the sofa, finished opening his pants, and withdrew the cock of which
Ross was so proud, and took it into his mouth.
	The Deputy Assistant Minister of the national treasury of The
Republic of Mexico was an expert cock sucker. Within a few minutes, Ross's
cock was throbbing, pumping cum into the minister's mouth, and the sweat
under his suit was testament to the minister's effect on him. The minister
finished, cleared his throat, took a glass of water from the table, and
said "Perhaps when we meet at Playa Escondida we can have more time to
explore our mutual interests?"
      Ross could only nod, stumbling out of the door and back to his room.
	It was late in the day, well past time for the closing session of
the conference, and Ross was in the executive dining room of the hotel,
wondering if he should go out on the town for the evening, when the hotel
general manager approached his table. He asked if he may be seated and then
asked if Ross had any plans for the evening, and when he admitted that he
had just been thinking about that topic, the general manager immediately
offered to escort Ross around to some of the famous clubs in the city
center. They agreed to meet at the front lobby of the hotel at 10 PM, and
Ross returned to his room to get ready. At 10 PM, a limousine was waiting
with a door opened and beckoning to him, and the general manager waved him
inside.
	They chatted cordially during the trip, and within some fifteen
minutes or so, were enjoying the pounding music and electric atmosphere of
Boy Bar on Avenida Amberes just off Paseo de la Reforma; they stayed almost
an hour and then were zipped out by the chauffeur to Cabaret Tito a block
away on Avenida Londres. Ross thought the theme of either place was a
little sleazy as compared to some of the world class bars he had been in
throughout Rome and Berlin and Paris and London, but what the Hell, he was
with the hotel general manager who had an open-ended expense account and a
chauffeur, so why not?
	He had to question the wisdom of that observation within a half
hour when he found himself being groped by countless hands in the darkroom
of Tito, several of the hands fighting to undo his belt and pants, and was
never sure if either the general manager or the chauffeur was involved, but
nonetheless knew for certain that a lot of cock was present in this room,
because he was constantly feeling flesh against his hands. He stroked all
of them and was pleased to feel many of them trying to stroke him as well,
even though his cock was safely covered by his suit pants.
	By 3 AM, the general manager was showing some fatigue, and Ross
agreed to return to the hotel, but surprisingly was not accompanied to his
room by his host. Instead, the room-service waiter was holding the elevator
door open for him and asked him if he could wait just for a moment. In
approximately two minutes, the chauffeur entered the elevator, and
apologized that the general manager was not able to accompany them, but the
chauffeur was required to see Ross safely to his room.
	After the chauffeur had left Ross's room, nearly an hour later,
Ross realized he had probably just sucked the most gorgeous cock in Mexico
City: 9 inches, perfectly proportioned, long foreskin, thick but not
unreasonable, and low hanging balls that would make any man proud in a
Speedo at poolside. This equipment all belonged to a very well educated,
soft-spoken man bilingual in English and Spanish, who writhed in obvious
pleasure as Ross practiced his oral techniques on him. He sucked him, 69'ed
with him, sucked his balls, fucked his face, and finally insisted that the
chauffeur cum on Ross's face. An hour of oral is almost as good as a quick
fuck, he thought, and wanted to be sure that he could hook up with the
chauffeur once more before he left the conference.  Dropping off to sleep,
he suddenly remembered that his conference presentation tomorrow would be
at the end of the morning rather than the beginning, allowing him an extra
hour to sleep.
	Apparently he was sleeping too soundly to hear the room-service
waiter bringing the coffee the next morning; it was outside his door after
he had showered and dressed and was leaving the room. There was a note from
the general manager asking him to dinner that evening; there was also a
note from the chauffeur that simply said "gracias". When he entered the
auditorium for the conference, about twenty minutes before his own
presentation, the room-service waiter handed him two additional notes, one
from the Deputy Assistant Minister and one from the co-pilot. This was
going to be a very busy weekend. He laughed to himself when he remembered
another weekend in Mexico City a few years back, when he had fucked the
same chef fourteen times in three days. So far in two days he had been with
eight men in almost every possible position.
	Following his presentation, Ross was tired, hungry, and
frustrated. He decided to return the call to the co-pilot, who told him he
had a late flight out of Mexico City and agreed to meet Ross in a few
minutes in his hotel room. They met in the lobby bar, had a large antipasto
salad, a bottle of wine, and soon were ready to head upstairs. Ross was not
sure what he wanted to do this time with the co-pilot but decided to let
things run their course. It turned out the pilot wanted to fuck Ross, and
while he would normally have not agreed to that, he was tired enough he
thought he might as well just lay there and take it, although from a brand
new amateur fucker maybe that was not such a good idea.
      It turned out Ross was wrong; this man was an expert fucker, and by
the time he was gliding out of Ross's ass for the last time, having made a
healthy deposit of burning hot cum, Ross was sure this was one he had to
keep in his stable. He fell asleep immediately. He was re-awakened by the
pilot, who was attempting to re-enter Ross's ass; that maneuver was flipped
around, and soon it was the pilot who was kneeling over Ross with a hard
cock inside of him. Jacking himself while he was fucking himself on Ross,
fly-boy soon came on Ross's chest. He said he wanted to stay for the rest
of the weekend but had to fly back to Atlanta; they agreed to meet for a
drink in Atlanta.
	Late that evening, after a quiet dinner with the general manager,
seated in the lobby bar again, Ross decided to return the call to the
Deputy Assistant Minister; it turned out he was at his office in the
capitol, but would be available in about an hour, and suggested they meet
at a small boutique hotel around the corner from the Camino Real hotel. It
took Ross about five minutes to walk over to the adjacent hotel, and
another ten minutes for the Deputy Minister to enter the lobby; he walked
deliberately past Ross but motioned for him to follow, and they turned a
corner to the elevators and were soon on the 10th floor and in each others'
arms.
      Within a few minutes, they were holding each other on the bed, naked,
kissing, rubbing, stroking, and then the Minister turned in Ross's arms and
pushed his ass back toward him, indicating what he wanted. Within a few
more minutes, Ross, with a very eager erection inside the Deputy Assistant
Minister realized this man may be gay but he was also extremely tight and
had probably not been fucked in the past 6 months. This was going to be a
challenge as well as a pleasure. Ross's normal patented fuck was not going
to work this time; he was very slow, very deliberate, and wanted to
experience every stroke in and out of the ass of this politician.
	When he noticed the early light of dawn coming in the hotel room
window, Ross realized he and the Minister had traded fucks at least three
times each, had showered and fucked again with the Minister bent over in
the shower and Ross pounding him from behind, and then Ross fell asleep in
the bed. He assumed the Minister kept the room for just this type of
activity, but apparently he must top most of the time or he must fuck
women, because that was a very tight ass he had just pounded, probably the
tightest ass he had been in other than the airline pilot. He walked back to
the Camino Real hotel and to his room, where he showered, shaved, and
dressed for the final day of the conference.
	The closing ceremonies of the conference were short and lacking in
drama, so Ross was checked out of his room by Noon and ready to spend a
little time doing some sight-seeing around the national capital. The
general manager offered to send one of the hotel cars for Ross to spend the
afternoon before his 8 PM flight; it turned out the little virgin assistant
to the front desk manager was an expert in the notable sights of Mexico
City, and sat in the back seat with Ross explaining all of the things they
passed.
	On the long drive back to the hotel, the little virgin assistant to
the hotel front desk manager turned toward Ross and said "I have a question
for you. Are all Americans as sexually promiscuous as you?"
	Ross was stunned by the question, and said "I do not think I am
promiscuous, why do you ask?"
	The boy, the man, who was really probably not more than 24 or so,
looked straight into Ross's eyes and said "When I first saw you check in at
the hotel, I wanted to sleep with you but I was afraid. I have never done
anything like that and I really wanted to be with you but it seemed like
everyone else was doing that so I was afraid."
	"Afraid of what?"
	"That you would not like me or that you would laugh at me or that
you would think I was not good enough."
	"I think you are beautiful, why would I not like you?"
	"Well I guess you are very experienced, and I would feel foolish
around you."
	"No reason to feel that way. So you have never been with a man?"
	"No."
	"Well, do you want to try something?"
	"With you?"
	Ross laughed; "Yes, with me."
	"You would do that for me?"
	"I will tell you this- you tell me what you want to do and we will
try it."
	The boy, or man, was gasping; he said "I have a small apartment
behind the hotel, we can go there for an hour or so; when is your flight?
When do you have to leave for the airport?"
	"My flight is at 8 PM, so we have to leave at 6."
	"Well, then we have two hours. Is that good?"
	"Sure, we can have some fun. Lead the way."
	They checked the luggage with the hotel concierge and walked down
the street and around to the alley behind the hotel, and in a minute or two
were in a tiny room with a bed, a shower, a sink, and a refrigerator. Ross
undressed the boy, and was slowly kissing him, lightly, and noticed he was
not nervous nor was he shaking like the airline pilot; he was almost
assertive, and began undressing Ross in turn. He also kissed Ross several
times, on the cheeks, lips, and ears, and finally, when they were fully
undressed, sat on the edge of the bed and took Ross's cock in his hands and
just looked at it.
	"It's beautiful" he said.
	"I think it's just average."
	The boy looked at Ross, stood, held out his hard cock and asked "Do
you think this is just average?"
	The boy's cock was actually just an inch longer than Ross, although
not as thick, and had a lovely foreskin; rather than reply to him, Ross
knelt on the thin rug and took the cock in his mouth and then looked up to
the man and said "Is this a good answer?" and continued sucking.
	The virgin assistant front desk manager responded by fucking into
Ross's mouth; pretty soon the man was ready to cum, and Ross made him
stop. "Do you want to fuck me?" Ross asked.  He smiled, and Ross then lay
on his back on the bed, pulled his legs apart, and began rubbing his saliva
into his hole, in order to accommodate the cock of the now-not-quite-virgin
fucker. Within a minute, the assistant front desk manager was all the way
inside Ross's ass, now quite a bit less than a virgin, and Ross was
wondering how much this charity work would be worth in karma points. Since
the virgin had already been close to cumming in Ross's mouth, it was only
another three or four minutes before he was shooting his hot cum into
Ross's ass hole.
	As he lay panting on the bed alongside Ross, he asked "Do you want
to fuck me?" and Ross said "Only if that is what you want."
	In another minute or two, Ross was firmly inside the virgin, who
was just as tight as the pilot and the Deputy Minister. Ross was actually
smiling to himself as he resumed his normal patented fuck rhythm, and the
boy was moaning like a bitch, and clearly enjoying every stroke of the
famous cock all the way in and all the way back out. It was about ten
minutes or more, but when he came inside the boy, it was truly worth it;
Ross thought it was perhaps the best, or maybe second best, fuck of that
weekend.
	They returned to the front of the hotel; the general manager was
there with the same chauffeur who had taken them to the clubs and showed
Ross into the back seat and wished him a safe trip and begged him to return
soon. Nearing the airport parking, the chauffeur said to Ross "We are
actually a few minutes early; do you mind doing me a favor?"
	"What's that?"
	"Well, I had your cock in my mouth, and I still want it in my ass
also."
	"Sure."
	A half hour of fucking in the spacious surroundings of a limousine
was actually the second time Ross had that type of experience; the
chauffeur was a great fuck, and a power bottom, and Ross had a hard time
remembering a worthy power bottom to challenge him that way since Mason. He
entered the airplane's first class cabin still smiling broadly; when he
noticed the flight attendant, he smiled even more.
	Late night driving home from the Atlanta airport, TMGM was silent,
other than the few banal questions such as `how was your flight; how was
the conference; what did you learn'. Ross dropped his luggage in the master
bedroom and fell onto the bed immediately, exhausted. He barely heard TMGM
ask him "Do you love me?"
	He sat upright on the edge of the bed. "I think so."
	There was a flicker of confusion, and then hesitation, on TMGM's
face; he then asked "Is it enough?"
	Ross lowered his head and said "I don't know."
	They went to bed, and Ross fell asleep immediately. In the morning,
Ross rolled over and noticed his lover was not in bed; he must have gotten
up early. Ross reached over to the side of the bed where TMGM slept, but
the bed was cold. He had not slept there after all, and when Ross went to
the living room, there was a blanket folded neatly on the end of the
sofa. There was a note and a red rose next to the coffee maker: "When you
make up your mind, you know where to find me. Love always, JAM de C".