I didn't mind looking out the window and watching Old Man Winter kick the shit out of Kennedy Airport. I was born in Maine, and a little snow didn't freak me. I didn't mind the flight being delayed. I fly a lot and shit happens. I sort of didn't mind having my entire life flash before me four times on the way to O'Hare. Again, I fly a lot, and shit happens. I minded like hell being informed that all flights out of Chicago were grounded for who knew how long, and I wasn't going to see the sunshine in southern California for some time. I didn't have the heart to bitch at the little geek behind the counter. Wasn't his fault there was a blizzard. It was his fault he stuck me in a room with a cold, silent bastard, but I don't suppose he did it on purpose.
My new best friend was actually quite good looking, if you overlooked his sullen expression and smoldering angry eyes. I know a lot of guys like that type, but I'm not one of them. I'm more the 'what the hell, let's party!' type myself, and those are the kinds of men I like. I tried to be friendly until continuing to be friendly would have been the act of a moron. Then I ignored him. I locked myself in the bathroom, cursed the blizzard a few more times, and took a shower. I came out with one towel wrapped around my waist as I rubbed another through my hair. I pulled the towel away from my face when I heard the sound. He was staring at me with a look of naked hunger on his face. Lust to the 10th power. All I could do was stand and stare back at him, hypnotized by the look. I've turned on my share, but this was...unbelievable. He looked up at my face and a door slammed shut inside him. 'I'll take a shower now,' he said curtly, and tried to move past me to the bathroom. I put a palm flat against the wall to block him. He shuddered and moaned as his chest collided with my arm. He closed his eyes, forcing air into his lungs. 'You smell so damn good,' he whispered. 'So damn good.' I grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his face to mine, thrusting my tongue into his mouth and kissing him hard.
He resisted at first, or at least, made an attempt to. An unsuccessful attempt. He sucked my tongue in as his hands ripped the towel off me. He gasped as his fingers brushed my stiffening cock. He gave my cock a few tentative strokes, then I nearly fell forward as his head suddenly disappeared. I looked down. He had gone to his knees and suctioned my cock into his mouth. Eyes closed, breathing hard, he sucked and licked at me as both hands explored. He caressed my balls with one hand as the other stroked my cock. I had to shake my head to clear it. I was standing naked and dripping in a hotel room in Chicago while a nameless man in a silver-gray suit gave me the most outrageous blowjob of my life. What the hell, let's party, I said to myself, and braced both palms against the wall.
He locked his lips around my cock and started pushing his face forward and pulling it back, taking me deeper and deeper with each stroke. When I felt the top of his throat I damn near died. It was incredible. I'd never fucked a throat before, and frankly never thought I would. Part of me detached slightly to observe him as his thrusts took my cockhead past the top and into his throat. His eyes flicked open and he stayed motionless for a few seconds. I suddenly got the fascination with smoldering eyes. His dark eyes burned at me. He needed my cock in his mouth even more than I needed to cum. 'Holy shit,' I whispered. I swear his eyes shot flames at me. He did something that made it feel like his throat was milking my cock, and I shot cum long and hard. I couldn't hear anything over my own howls, or feel anything outside the shell of my body that was trying to contain the biggest fucking cum of my life. I was vaguely aware that the floor had come up to meet me and his hand grabbed my head before I cracked my skull. After that, all I knew for sure was that the plane had obviously crashed and I was in Gay Heaven.
Sensations worked their way into my gelatinous brain. The hot, moist smell of a post-shower bathroom. The smell of soap and shampoo. A radio. His humming along with the radio. Pain from lying on the damned floor. I opened my eyes. He was sitting on the bed reading the room service menu. He was naked, and I heard the angels sing. The exquisite tailoring had hidden a body that had been sculpted out of bronze. Not only was he tan, but his muscles were well developed, his waist trim, his thighs firm. To make it absolutely perfect, the Adonis had big, ugly feet. I felt immediately better about my somewhat-less-than-perfect physique. He turned to me as I struggled to my feet and I saw his cock hanging between his legs. I slipped and landed hard on my knees. I swear my little puckered asshole whimpered. Flaccid, the thing was huge. Unusually huge. Erect, the man must be a weapon. 'Duh...uh...huh,' I said stupidly, and dropped to the bed.
He smiled at me, and those damned angels sang again. His smile was tender and genuine. The eyes still burned, but this was a fire I recognized. 'Hungry?' he said in a voice full of latent laughter. I blinked at him and wondered where the cold, silent bastard had gone. I said something that was intended to be 'Yes, I'm hungry,' but it came out a garbled mess. He dimpled at me. I swear, the man dimpled at me. 'I'll take that as a compliment on my abilities,' he chuckled, 'which I was very afraid I had lost.' I assured him he hadn't lost his abilities, or at least I tried to. My brain was still going 'Throat! Throat!' He ordered some food substance, and made sure my meat was cut into bite-size pieces and I didn't choke on anything. He also opened his verbal floodgates.
His name was Robert, but he was called 'Rot' due to a beloved brother who couldn't spell worth a shit. I thought for a few seconds and dredged Anthony out of my memory banks. 'Not 'Tony',' I said firmly. 'Anthony.' He grinned. He was doing that a lot, and it was unnerving. Pleasant, but unnerving. He was thoughtful enough to let me digest my meal before he spread me out on the bed and ate the hell out of my ass.
All that was required on my part was to lay there and groove, and that's all I was up to. He had an unusually long, agile tongue. He buried his face in the crack of my ass and tongue fucked me hard and deep. It was incredible. His hands held my ass open, massaging my cheeks. His fingers began to slowly increase the pressure, until he was gripping me hard. It was a delicious pleasure/pain that made me feel as if I was a complete slave to his desires, which frankly, I was. When he removed his tongue and moved away for a few seconds, I felt a sharp pain like grief.
He was back quickly, and gave my ass a little slap. 'Up,' he ordered. I went to my hands and knees, then lowered my head, offering him my quivering ass for anything he'd care to do. I could feel his hard cock bumping my thighs as I moved, and my head swam. The thing was fucking huge. He took the shaft in his hand and rubbed it against me. Up and down both thighs, on each cheek, up and down the crack of my ass. He left a trail of hot precum as he stroked. Then he leaned down and licked all his precum off my skin. My own hard cock started to twitch.
He spread my cheeks with the fingers of his left hand, and rubbed the lubricated index finger of his right up and down the crack. Each time, he carefully jumped over my hole. He'd come as close as possible to it without touching it, then skip over and slide down to toy with my balls. I looked under myself, and a swollen, desperate purple thing looked back at me. At that moment, the very tip of his index finger penetrated my hole. He held it there, until the insane frustration make me shove my ass back at him and swallow the finger. He'd worked me too such a state that I humped his hand as hard as I could. He had a second finger waiting for me on one of my backward thrusts, then a third. I was wide open, fucking his fingers for all I was worth. I humped backwards so hard the bed moved back and forth, slamming against the wall. I was afraid to look under myself again. My cock felt as if had surged to twice its normal size.
When the fingers disappeared I let out a long, shuddering moan. Then I felt the head of his cock against my ass crack, and froze. It felt like it should be attached to something wearing a saddle. I think I whimpered. He made calm, reassuring noises and stroked my hip gently. I calmed down, and he worked his fingers in my hole again to reopen my panicking sphincter muscles. He got me sloppy with lubricant, trying to make sure I 'd feel nothing but pleasure. When the huge cockhead rubbed my crack again, I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and forced myself to relax. 'Yes,' I whispered. 'I want you to. Yes.'
He entered me gently. Carefully. And it still felt like being assfucked by a Kentucky Derby winner. He slid in, his hands stroking both my hips as he continued to whisper to me. I calmed and relaxed what few of my muscles that still responded to me. He began a slow, gentle stroking. I held onto the bed for dear life. Eventually, my brain accepted that I wasn't going to burst open, and that huge cock starting hitting pleasure spots I didn't even know I had. 'Fuck me, Rot,' I whispered. 'Oh, shit, this is great. Damn. Fuck me.' His response was to grip my hips with his hands and pump a little faster, building up speed gradually. Eventually, his hips pounded me, his balls thudded against mine, and that huge fuckstick went in and out of my ass like a piston. I reached under myself, grabbed my balls and pulled down on them gently. I wanted this to last. It was incredible. I'd never had anything this big in my ass. Never. I felt drunk with pleasure, and knew that when I finally came it was going to be like nothing I'd ever felt before. He started to cum, and it felt as if a firehose had gone off in my ass. I swear, the force of his pulsing cum nearly knocked me on my face. It definitely knocked me over the edge. I came, screaming his name, the shuddering orgasm lasting longer than I was prepared for. I collapsed, my body still twitching from the sensations. He landed on top of me. He slid his still-hard cock out of me carefully as I kept twitching.
Chicago was subjected to the worst blizzard in something like 30 years, and O'Hare was locked up tight for four days. I swear, five days and I never would have walked again.