Daddy's Boy during Covid Lockdown

Despite the international lockdowns and embargoes on flights the work I do is deemed “business essential” so one evening, I get the call and Ops tells me I'm on the next flight across to my old stomping grounds.

Normally, a flight to a place I called home for nearly a decade would be amazing but I knew even before I showed up at the completely deserted First Wing at the airport that this would be a very different trip.

The flight across was akin to being on a private jet and it was actually a very lovely 9-hour flight.

There were two of us in First and although there was some social distancing behavior from the crew, the meals, the wine and the food were pretty much the same and it turned out to be one of the most relaxing flights I’ve ever had.

Landing and clearing immigration was a breeze and I don’t think I took 10 minutes to deplane and be curb side where I had to wait 25 minutes for my car service to arrive.

And we zipped into the Capital in record time so much so that I joked with my driver, “10 years ago, this commute into town could take 90 minutes." 

He laughed and replied, “Yeah, I had them clear the road for you.”

In less than 30 minutes there I was at a very familiar hotel across the street from Government House in the heart of the city close to the gayborhood and all the fantastic restaurants.

Despite the location though, everything was closed and the downtown core was void of pedestrians and even cars.

When I checked in they informed me that because of the city-wide lockdown (nation-wide actually), they had devised a system to enhance social distancing and as such they had taken a number of the larger 2-bedroom suites and made them a little more self-contained.

For the most part what this meant was that they had put a microwave oven in the room and would be bringing food to my door rather than me coming to the restaurant.

Thankfully they still stocked the equivalent of my mini-bar with the essentials!

It wasn’t a terrible set-up. Food arrived promptly, my laundry still got done and they even gave me a daily time slot to use the gym and the swimming pool which was so overly chlorinated that it made my skin itch.

But, probably no better way to kill germs that chlorine right?

On a lot of trips to places where I know people I won’t even let old friends know I am in town until the end of my assignment but on this trip I reached out to one old friend in particular who some of you will remember from two of my other stories (Daddy’s Boy Interracial Tale).

He was super excited that I was back in town, “but,” he said very quickly, “you know I can’t risk my job by hooking up, not during all of this.”

I totally understood and over the next couple of weeks we chatted most days sometimes more than once.

On occasion we would get a little raunchy on our chats and we’d end up jerking off for each other or just talking insanely dirty to each other.

For a couple of these chats I really wish I had brought a dildo but you can imagine how after two weeks of this virtual flirting, my ass (and his dick) was twitching for action.

And although I’ve never been one for online chat rooms and cruising, the occasional visit to Manhunt, Adam4Adam, BBRTs, Squirt and Dudesnude was not helping the situation (that I don’t use online cruising was meant as a joke).

Despite this, he and I were being good.

The morning of day 15 though he asks me, “So you’ve been here for 2 weeks and isolated in the hotel, have you gotten any symptoms?”

“Nope,” I replied, “ nothing at all, but then again, I don’t think I have come into contact with anyone in that entire time except to wave at the housekeeper when she wants to enter while I leave for the gym.”

The housekeepers amused me, or well, the hotel management amused me.

This particular old school hotel had mandatory uniforms for all its staff and the housekeepers wore the very traditional black dresses with White aprons.

The hotel strived to maintain standards but it did look a little funny that over these classic uniforms the housekeepers wore yellow marigold rubber gloves, surgical masks, and bright blue waterproof aprons.

Anyway, when I would come back from an hour in the pool and gym, my room smelled like a freshly disinfected hospital ward and I reeked of itchy chlorine so I was more than likely completely safe of all viral infections.

“Yeah,” I repeated, “I’ve not had any symptoms nor been in contact with anyone.”

“So we could fuck then couldn’t we? I mean, in theory.”

And as we discussed, quite sadly the coming weekend was his birthday so it just didn’t seem right that we couldn't connect when it had been the better part of a decade since we played.

Siri: “Can you get Covid 19 from Sex?”

Siri produced the following: “So far there’s no evidence that it’s spread through semen (cum) or vaginal fluids.”

Well, I thought to myself, I don’t have vaginal fluids so.....a little creative ambiguity was unfolding before my eyes!

Siri continued: “The best way to prevent COVID-19 is to try to avoid close, physical contact.”

Avoiding physical contact during gay sex is pretty much impossible but the first thing that pops into my head was “GLORYHOLE!!” and my mind went into action.

In the suite they had put me up in, after you entered, there was a long hallway with a small powder room off to one side so I figure that if I put up a sheet in the doorway, cut a slit in it, then my big dicked daddy could get his birthday present and we wouldn’t even have to touch each other!

I even could put out sanitizing wipes or gel for before and after and it would become a WHO approved fuckfest (nothing but respect for the WHO, that was merely a bad joke).

“You are such a f*cking pig, I miss you,” was his reply to my gloryhole suggestion.

“I resemble that remark,” I laughed, but he agreed, given our mutual isolation combined with the precautions, it probably was safe to hookup.

“No worse than touching a trolley at the supermarket” he said.

So we agreed to fuck later that same day.

The hotel gave me some tacks (that was a tricky explanation) and while I was coming back from the pool, I noticed the housekeepers cart with fresh sheets so I snagged one discretely and got to work building my bio-hazard gloryhole.

In honesty, I have never used a gloryhole like this.

In bathhouse, yes, the hole through the wooden wall, but never just a simple starched white sheet.

Daddy agreed to bring the lube and some poppers (I didn’t even have to ask, he remembered what a popper slut I can be/I am).

I took my time getting prepped to make sure I was ready for a good hard pseudo anonymous fuck and close to the appointed time, poured myself a whiskey, got into a jock strap and crawled through the slit in the sheet to get ready for some daddy dick.

I had propped the door open for my friend and right on the hour, I heard the door open and the sounds of it being latched behind him with the rattle of the little plastic “do not disturb” sign jangling away. 

I could hear him put his bag down, the zipper opening and all the other preparatory noises one makes before sliding your dick into a slutty bottom hiding behind a sheet.

“Hey boy, Daddy’s back,” was my cue to assume the position on all fours and after a quick swig of my drink, I got down and positioned myself on the floor.

Fortunately I had practiced this and put down a couple of towels to soften the marble floor and I while I jockeyed myself into position I felt the sheet rustle a little and then a very cold glass object was placed on my back.

“Poppers! Thanks daddy” and I reached around to grab the bottle of poppers he had brought.

I greedily cracked open the bottle to get a few deep snorts in while my daddy got down and started to tongue my ass.

You could tell how horned he was by the intensity of the tongue lashing I was getting.

In any other situation, I would have been like “Whoa there big boy, not allowed to draw blood,” but I felt obligated to give my entire self to him at this point.

What can I say, once a daddy’s boy, always his boy.

He tongue fucked me a nice amount of time and slobbered all over my hole to the point where I didn’t think I’d need much in the way of lube and when he relented and stopped tonguing me, I knew it was time for dick.

I had propped my heels against the door frame for leverage and the layout of the bathroom was such that across from the door was a wall that without much stretching I could push against so I was splayed like a slut ready for dick.

While he rubbed his big black cock against my hole he verbally assaulted me which I loved.

“You’ll always be my boy, you ready for daddy’s dick?” and so on.

I was moaning and begging for it while snorting poppers like no tomorrow when he slammed that 8.5” dick into my guts.

Although there weren’t many people in the hotel, I am pretty sure everyone heard the scream of “OH F*CK!” when he impaled me on his thick dick.

I used every muscle in my body to stay pushing tightly against him to the point where within a few minutes, my heels were sore, my arms and back were fully flexed and burning as he pounded me through the sheet.

Daddy was back and fucking me like he hated me and I loved every second and every inch ripping me open.

“Give me the poppers stud,” he commanded!

As I turned around to pass them through the sheet, unbeknownst to me, he had been boning me the entire time with his head and most of his torso through the sheet.

Sadly, despite my best intentions, there was no benefit to the sheet at this point (we were officially no longer WHO compliant here).

When I saw him, our eyes locked and he let loose one of his big sexy smiles and thrust balls deep into me which made me drop the poppers and basically pushed me into complete submission.

For those of you reading this that have a dom/sub relationship like this you'll know that it isn't one word spoken or one action but the combination of many different things that takes you from completely capable of making a decision to being owned by someone else.

Fortunately I didn't break the bottle of poppers (that would be a sin), and I didn’t ask for it and he didn’t say a word but he ripped the towel down and pulled me to my feet.

After turning me around, we embraced and he gave me the biggest warmest kiss imaginable and we made out like this standing in this little powder room for a long time with me pushed up against the doorframe.

I protested knowing full well that the damage was done even before the hotel room was latched shut but he dismissed this. 

We were both healthy, no symptoms, no contact etc so “it would be fine” he kept saying.

It was honestly a much more comfortable experience for me after this, not that I didn’t enjoy the gloryhole approach but my arms were killing me from pushing so hard against the wall to counter his relentless pounding so after we kissed and moved to the bed, it was much easier to submit to my old daddy.

I shouldn’t say old on his birthday and not that 46 is old anyway but he was my former not-so-old daddy.

He had warned me that in the 15 years since we met he had put on some weight which really wasn’t an issue.

When we first met, he had a body more defined and jacked than Will Smith in I am legend. Now he maybe had put on 15 pounds and so wasn’t as ripped but still a fine ass man with a big dick and insatiable lust for my ass.

We made up for lost time after the powder room pounding and he fucked me in every position in that hotel suite.

We even at one point during a rest smoked a joint out of the window which led to more raunchy fucking.

All night long we played around, dozed off, woke up, fucked some more, had some drinks, fucked some more.

When he wasn’t fucking me and we weren’t panting to catch our breath I was sucking on his cock making my eyes water or he was eating my ass.

Close to day break, my ass had been seriously assaulted by this stud of a man but in a very good way.

I was convulsing every time he pulled out of me as my prostate throbbed from all the attention.

I got a bit alarmed when there was a knock on the door and I realized that it was 7:30am and the normal time for my coffee and breakfast to be dropped off outside my door.

Normally when I grab the tray, the waiter is long gone or I might see him going down the corridor so I thought nothing of jumping up from the bed in my jock strap to grab it.

Much to my my surprise though, when I popped open the door there was the waiter.

He was standing the appropriate distance back from the door but had a huge shit-eating grin on his face.

I tried to hide behind the door while saying thank you with my ass oozing my daddy’s seed but before he left, the waiter says, “It sounded like you had a good night sir and I thought you might need extra coffee and another cup.”

With a wink, he was gone down the corridor and I went back to lounge about with my daddy on a cum soaked bed.

With my phone always beside me in case the client called (which they didn’t thankfully), daddy and I fucked most of the morning away after enjoying a cup of coffee.

We finished our tryst in the shower gently washing each other and whispering the same old dom/sub lines…”You’ll always be my boy" before heading back to his own place.

A few days later my assignment came to an end and I flew home.

I never had the chance to see Daddy again before I left, but in some ways, connecting with him once every 10 years is actually a really nice thing and definitely worth waiting for the next time.

During a parting kiss that morning, we wished that each other stays healthy and free of this virus and I've been back now for more than 10 days without any symptoms so all-in-all, as he said, "we should be fine."

Can't wait for my next trip to the land of my Daddy.