Benjamin sat by the Starbucks window sipping his tea and gazing at his laptop screen. Representative Flake's slide show was on the Washington Post website, and Benjamin was enjoying the natural beauty. There was something particularly sexy about a man who could catch his own food. It screamed independence and self sufficiency. There would be none of the obligatory cuddling and cooing during a night with that stud. Just cock to ass until the job was done.
Benjamin's eyes shifted to the folks leaning against the Carmen building. The group contrasted greatly with Benjamin's ideals. Cloistered in an Ivy League citadel, they enjoyed an extended adolescence at their parents' expense. Benjamin recalled his own years as a commuter student at Fordham. Life was much different for the other half of America.
A cute redhead paused from walking to check his map. Something about the man seemed familiar to Benjamin. The man lowed the map, revealing a broad freckled face. Benjamin shut down his computer.
Ah, it's the guy from the hot dog stand in Montreal. He looks too old to be a Columbia student. Grad student, maybe. He could be a local.
Benjamin packed his bags and walked down Broadway after the man.
"Excuse me, Sir. I saw you looking at the map. Do you need directions?"
"Thanks. I'm looking for the 9 train. I'm not from around here. Tuesday night I head back to Montreal."
Benjamin could hardly contain his grin. "The subway station for the 9 is right there. Hey, let me show you around tonight. I've lived in Manhattan my whole life. It's been 34 years now. I can take you to this great Jazz club I know."
"Wow. Yeah. That would be great. My name's Patrick, by the way."
"Benjamin here." They shook hands. "Let me have your number. I've got a meeting this afternoon, but I'll call you as soon as it's done."
Patrick gave Benjamin his mobile phone number. As the two parted, Patrick's phone rang. He answered it. "Hello? Oh, hey honey. How are you holding up without me? I miss you too. OK. Love you. Bye."
Benjamin crumpled up the paper with the phone number and put it in his back pocket. "Was that your girlfriend?"
"Actually, that was my wife. Why?"
"Forget about tonight," Benjamin told him. "I don't fuck married guys." Patrick watched in shock as Benjamin walked away.
Latter that night, Benjamin was at a leather club in the Village. A man in a chest harness and leather pants approached him. "Hi there, do you like tight ass?"
"Sure. Who doesn't?"
"Well, my sub for one. He's more into cock. He sucks mine like a pro, always hungry, always respectful. Sometimes I let him suck other cocks as a treat. He kind of fancies you. Would you like to breed his throat? Maybe you could tap his ass too."