An Accidental Meeting

From Part One

I walked into the bar like I didn’t give a shit. I ordered a rum and Coke, double on the rum. I sat to wait for my drink, and I scanned the room. Older guys in business suits; young guys looking for sugar daddies. No blue-collar types. A TV in the corner playing the Conservative News--NewsCon it was called. Then, something caught my eye, a report from Paris. I stepped closer to the screen. Bobby Martin was reporting, and fuck me if he wasn’t the spitting image of Rob.

Part Two

I threw myself onto the bed. Rob could not be Bobby Martin. Bobby Martin was in France. Rob had been here in Texas just fifteen hours ago. It wasn’t possible, was it? I pulled my laptop from under the bed. I searched Bobby Martin on google, yahoo, and duckduckgo.

First, all of the pictures of him certainly looked just like Rob. Then, there were all the articles. “Who is Bobby Dating?”, “Is Bobby Martin Gay?”, “America’s Best Conservative Reporters”. I read them all, and according to the articles, Bobby is a single, possibly gay but probably not, married man who has no home because he travels around the world reporting on current events unless he is staying in his mansion that he bought with money from a trust fund even though his parents were penniless.

“What a crock of shit!” I announced. None of the information helped me. I checked my phone again. No returned messages. I decided that I met a Bobby Martin look-alike who got cold feet. I was disappointed because I really felt a spark of something with him. He could have at the very least been a good friend, and at the very most, well, I decided not to think about it. Except, just a brief thought of him made me extremely horny.

Work for the next week was miserable. Even though I tried my best not to, I checked my phone for messages. I even texted him two more times, once to say that I hoped he had not been seriously hurt and that I was praying that if he had been, he’d recover quickly, and the second time to let him know that I had enjoyed meeting him.

Plus, I started checking out all the guys in the building, the ones I worked with, and the ones in the other offices. I drove myself crazy; my work output was slower than it should have been; although, no one complained. I needed to get laid. I started eye-fucking this cute maintenance man who worked in the building. He didn’t seem to notice, but I noticed his firm, round ass cheeks. If I could just drop a load inside that cute ass, I knew everything would be better. But he never even looked my way, and that just increased my frustration.

On Friday, I grabbed an Impossible Burger from the Burger King down the street and started to munch on it on a bench in front of my building. The new maintenance guy was with a group of others; it looked to me as if he were eating his lunch, too. Then he looked over at me, walked directly to me, and sat next to me.

“My name’s Jack,” he said. “I’ve seen you up on the fourth floor.”

“That’s right. I’m Kyle.”

“My dad’s the head maintenance guy, so he’s been training me for this job for years.”

“For years?” It was more of a statement than a question. How old was this cute maintenance guy?

“Yeah, and I made a decision when I started working here. I told myself that if I saw a cute guy, I would tell him and then ask him out.”

“How old are you?” I asked as I took another bite.

“Just turned seventeen. And just so you know, I think you’re cute, and I’ve noticed you checking out my ass.” He smiled when he said it.

Jack was adorable. I wished I’d had the balls to do what he’d just done. “So, you’re saying I’m cute and you want to ask me out?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “I still live at home; do you have your own place, because I’d like to suck your dick or have you fuck me. We can’t do that at my house.”

Shit, my dick was getting hard and struggling to get out of my pants. “We can’t do that at my house, either. I’m pretty sure it’s called rape because of your age.” I threw that last bite of my sandwich into my mouth. “I’m flattered that you asked me, Jack. I really am.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I know you wouldn’t, but I would know,” I told him as I went back to my desk. I worked non-stop for the rest of the afternoon. Talking to Jack made me realize that I was acting crazy. For a split second, I thought that I would actually take him home.

When I finished my work, I did not make a beeline to my car. I walked calmly but purposefully. I drove to a Wing-Stop and ordered a large Coke, Cajun Corn, and boneless wings. I sipped on the Coke as I went home, and I ate one of the wings. A hot bath with Epsom salts was on my list; I tried to decide whether to put my laptop on the toilet seat and watch a DVD. I might jack off in the tub, but it wasn’t a deal-breaker. I probably would, I had a lot of pent-up frustration. I’d follow that with a nice long sleep.  

I pulled into my space and saw Rob sitting on my stoop. I sat in my car looking at him. I wanted to run over to him, rip his clothes off, and fuck him right there in front of my door. Just the sight of him made me hard. I wanted him, but what the hell was he doing here, after no word for a week? I decided to be an adult about things, and I took my bag and my drink and walked up to him.

“Kyle.”

That’s all he got out of his mouth before I went off on him. “What the fuck, Rob! I was sure you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“I can explain. Let me explain. I need to explain.” He was pleading.

“Better make it good.” I shoved my bag of food at him, and he grabbed it. I opened the door and stepped to the side. “Get your bony ass in there.” I’m not sure where that came from. His ass was anything but bony. I closed the door and put my drink on the counter. He placed my food next to my drink.

“Kyle, I got a ride straight here from the airport. I’ve been out of town all week. Just after I got finished texting you, I had a knock on my door. They needed me to go to the airport right then. The plane was leaving, and the guy who was supposed to do the job was sick. I didn’t even have time to pack, and when I got to the airport, I realized that I didn’t have my phone. I had no way to text you or call you. I didn’t know your number or your last name. I had to tell the taxi how to get here from memory.

“I had such a great day planned for us.”

“My last name is Woodson. Yours?”

“Mine’s Pfaffen,” Rob said.

“And your first name?”

“Robert.”

“And is that what your friends call you?” I asked.

“I don’t have friends; I have colleagues. Kyle, I’m sorry for this past week.”

There was silence.

Rob sat down on the same stool he’d used last week. “Can we start over?”

Fuck he was handsome, this Robert Pfaffen. All the explanations; most of them did seem to make sense. I sat in front of him and took a deep breath. “My name is Kyle Anthony Woodson. I’m a database manager. I’m twenty-seven years old, six feet tall, just under one hundred sixty pounds. Last week, I met a man named Rob. I really liked him. He seemed pleasant, maybe a little confused, and very sexy. I was looking forward to seeing him again, but something happened, and when I did see him again, I let anger get the better of me.”

I saw Rob’s lip tremble.

“My name is Robert Martin Pfaffen. Most people call me Bobby Martin. I’m six foot one, one hundred seventy pounds. I’m an investigative reporter. I’m gay, and I’m terrified that when people find out, I’ll be treated differently. I’m most worried that I’ll lose my status among my colleagues. I’ve been hiding my desires by meeting people in secret. Last week, I met a man named Kyle who showed me kindness and made me realize that being gay meant more than just wanting to fucked or get fucked by men. I had hoped to have lunch with him and get to know him better.

“A job assignment got in the way. Or, rather, I let a job assignment get in the way. I may have lost my chance with him.”

“No, you didn’t,” I whispered.

“Will you let me take you to dinner?”

“I have dinner in this bag,” I told him.

“Is that enough to sustain us?”

“Maybe. If not, will they find us dead tomorrow in one another’s arms?”

“Romantic, but not likely. I did a report once on desert survival. It’ll take more than that to kill a specimen like you.”

“I was joking.”

“I know. Put your chicken in the fridge, and let’s go to ‘The Storage Shed.’ Best burgers in town, you know.”

“Will you share your onion rings?”

“Keep smiling like that, and I’ll give you a sip of my vanilla shake.”

“Be sure to keep it in your straw this time. I wasted a lot of paper towels cleaning it off the floor last time.”

“I’m pretty sure that was your fault. But we can discuss that at a later time.”

Dinner was enjoyable; hell, it was more than that. It was like talking to someone I had wanted to know all my life. We talked about our families, our goals, our fears, and Rob did share his onion rings with me. At one point, I put my hand out on the table toward him, and he touched my fingertips with his fingertips. I felt that tingle as I had on the first night. We finished up, and I drove back to my apartment. I didn’t even ask him to come in. I wanted him to, and he wanted to.

As I locked the door, Rob leaned against it. “I wish I hadn’t run off the way I did.”

I leaned in and kissed him. “We’re starting over, remember.” Let’s go sit on the couch. I kicked off my shoes, and he did the same.

He pulled me down on him as he sat and swung his legs onto the couch. I ended up between his legs with my face near his.

“I am going to take you on a picnic tomorrow for lunch. There’s a perfect spot I know.” He stopped talking and looked me in the eyes. “Is that your dick?” He reached down between my legs. “Wow.”

I could feel his fingers through the layers of fabric. I got even harder.

“Did I do that?” smirked Rob.

“Just thinking about you does that,” I told him.

He moved his head up to mine and kissed me, hard, passionately, his tongue pushing deep into my mouth. I began to hump my crotch against his.

“No. Don’t move. I want you to hold still,” said Rob. “I want to suck you. I’ve been thinking about it all week.” He reached down and unbuckled my belt. “Get up so I can remove your pants. Don’t help me.”

I stood, and Rob gently unbuttoned my shirt. He pressed his lips against mine after opening each button, and once he slid my shirt down my arms, he caressed each nipple with his tongue. My cock pushed harder to get out, and it didn’t have to wait long. My pants were soon at my ankles, and Rob removed them one leg at a time. My underwear was next. There was already a large wet spot from precum, and when he slid his mouth over my dick and down my shaft, his lips held a tight seal. His nose pushed into my bush, and his tongue rubbed hard against the underbelly of my rod. He moaned as he moved up and down my dick, and I tried to remain steady against the increasing waves of pleasure that splashed against me.

“Will you fuck my face?” asked Rob. “I want you to come down my throat.” Sometimes, when a looked a man like Rob, someone I saw as supermasculine, it seemed incongruous that he would want someone to face fuck him, but as he looked up at me, my urge was to cram my dick and my balls into him. I wanted to taste him at the same time. 

“Get your clothes off,” I demanded, and he complied. He might be manly, but he had put me in control. I pulled him onto the couch with his head at the seam of the cushions and his legs dangling over the arm of the sofa. I crawled above him. My mouth hovered over his dripping cock, and the tip of mine rubbing against his nose. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. He wanted my dick, and I wanted his.

I moved so the tip of my cock touched his lips, and he sucked me into his mouth. I began to move, slowly at first, in and out of him. I lowered myself and pulled his cock into my mouth. As I pushed my dick into his mouth, I slid farther down his hard pole. After less than thirty seconds, I was moving in and out with a higher frequency. The image of his smiling face formed in my mind. I wrapped my hands around the base of his dick and sucked with more force.

The force of my fuck also increased. In the back of my mind, I could hear the sound of my dick moving into and out of his throat. It sounded very wet, and it turned me on even more. I felt hands gripping my ass and pulling me even harder and deeper into Rob’s mouth, and the incipient urges of release began to overtake me. My muscles tensed, and I slammed down hard into him. His arms pinned me to him, and his cock began to spew cum into my mouth as I unloaded into his throat.

When my body relaxed, Rob began to push me away. My dick was still hard and buried into his mouth. I rolled slightly, and he coughed and gasped for air. I got back on my knees and helped him sit up. Cum dripped from the corner of his mouth. I had swallowed his load, but I had been building up over several days and dumped a lot of cum into him.

He was still breathing rather heavily as I pulled him to me, and we arranged ourselves side by side on the sofa. I kissed the back of his neck. I felt my dick begin to stir again. It pushed to get between his ass cheeks. I wrapped my arm over him, and we spooned.

“That was special,” he said softly. That tenor voice of his gave me chills, and my cock jerked.

Rob turned his head slightly. “Is someone wanting more?”

I kissed his ear. “He always has a mind of his own. I want to chill a bit with you. Just like this.”

“You’re fucking awesome, Kyle.” Rob rolled around to face me. “I hope you don’t think I’m crazy, but I want to take you to a park tomorrow and eat fried chicken. It’s been my favorite place to be alone, and now I want to share it with you.” He kissed me. “I want to stay, but I want to get cleaned up and make sure I have clothes to wear for tomorrow.”

“I understand. You’re afraid I’ll choke you to death the next time.” I chuckled.

“Your dick’s on the big side, but don’t fool yourself.” He poked me in the belly. “It’s not that big.” He laughed and gave me that wonderful smile of his.

I grabbed him and held him close to me. I could get used to this, I thought.