Beltway Initiation

This is the precursor to my story "Playing Through"

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Shortly after starting my job at a University in the Appalachians, I headed for a meeting at the University of Maryland. My plane landed at DCA, I retrieved my rental car and fought the National Capital Region afternoon rush hour traffic to the Bethesda Marriott. I was looking forward to relaxing in my room after the bumper to bumper traffic, but the receptionist couldn't find my reservation. I showed him my reservation on my phone, "Oh, you are at the other Bethesda Marriott," he said.

"The OTHER Marriott?"

"Yes, it is two and a half miles north on Route 1," he explained in an upbeat tone contrary to my agitation.

At 5:00PM, that two and a half miles promised to take 20-30 minutes, but devoid of other options, I grabbed my bag and returned to my car.

As advertised, the other Marrriott had my reservation. The receptionist looked to be in her mid-twenties and I found her very attractive, but I was too tired to put in the effort required to interest a girl fifteen years my junior. We exchanged smiles and I grabbed my bag.

In a few short minutes, I was in my room relieved to finally be able to relax. I opened my bag and started to hang my shirts for the upcoming days, when there was a knock on the door.

"What now?" I thought and peered through the peep hole to find a guy in his early-twenties standing in the hall. He was dressed too casually to be a hotel employee, but his small stature and submissive posture left me confident that it was safe to find out what he wanted.

I opened the door and the young man strolled confidently straight passed me into my room. He reached the center of the room and turned to face me. Upon seeing the bewildered look on my face his smile faded.

"Richard?" he asked.

"No-o-o-o-o," I answered, and he tilted his head while holding his fix on my eyes, "Oh," he muttered and briefly looked downward.

"Is this room 303?" he asked looking back into my eyes.

"Ye-e-e-es," I replied with a slow, affirmative shake of my head, "Oh," he muttered, looking down again.

We stood there for what seemed like several minutes when it occurred to me what had happened. I relaxed and nodded at him, "I think I can help you," I told him as I passed by him with a quick hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He appeared calm as he watched me walk behind him, even though I was easily six inches taller than he was. But my hand on the hotel desk phone seemed to startle him.

"It's ok, I promise," I said. He looked at me quizzically, but stayed in place. I pressed "0" on the phone and when that pretty receptionist answered, I asked her, "Please connect me with the OTHER Bethesda Marriott."

After a flirtatious "Certainly," the phone rang on the other end. A man answered and I asked for "Room 303, please," and nodded at the young man still standing in the center of my room. "The OTHER Bethesda Marriott?" he half whispered. His realization then appeared to strike him and he noticeably relaxed. A man answered on the other end of the phone and I asked, "Richard?"

"Yeah," the man answered with some trepidation.

"Ah, good," I said, "I have someone here who needs to talk to you." I offered the phone to the young man in the center of my room and he confidently took it from me with an appreciative nod.

I returned to hanging my clothes while the young man talked on the phone. As he talked, I noticed how comfortable he was in the moment and admired the level of maturity for a man so young. I thought about the man on the other end of the phone and how he would soon be ejaculating in a warm mouth or even warmer ass, and I felt an odd twinge of jealousy, as my prospects for finding a woman that evening were zero, given I had no energy for the exhausting joust required to get a woman comfortable, and then to ease her over her inhibitions.

The young man removed the phone from his ear and gestured toward me, "How far away?" he asked me.

"With traffic, thirty minutes," I answered. He grimaced and finished his conversation with Richard.

He hung up the phone and sighed. As he looked back up into my eyes, "Not going to work out for you?" I asked.

"Nope," he replied, "It'll be too late by the time I make it over there." I nodded and made my way to the door to show him out. He stopped at the threshold.

"Would, uh, you be interested?" he asked me with a slight upturn of his cheek that looked quite similar to the glance I had received from the beautiful receptionist downstairs just a few minutes before. Despite my lack of interest in his offer, I appreciated the ease at which he asked and the connection I felt.

"No, thank you," I said, attempting to sound cordial, "I'm not gay. And I'd certainly never pay for sex."

He nodded, then turned slightly to face me, "I wasn't looking for money. You've been very patient with me and very kind, the way you tried to help with Richard. I'd really enjoy giving you something in return." He repeated that slight upturn of his cheek as he finished his sentence and he smiled. It struck me how pretty his face was. I thought again about that beautiful receptionist and studied his face, attempting to discern what about him was materially different from her; tender lips, soft, perfectly smooth skin, deep, bright eyes. He was every bit as pleasant to look at.

And I thought about the prospect. 40 years of heterosexual conditioning, and yet I thought about the prospect. I think he recognized my quandary and placed his petite hand gently in the middle of my chest. "You can just sit in that chair and I can make you feel really good," he said while fixed on my eyes, and his gaze brushed all doubt from my mind.

As with any similar moments with girlfriends over the years, I pushed the door closed and nodded my acceptance. He smiled and tugged on my shirt to direct me toward the chair. We covered the dozen or so steps to the chair and I turned to face him, assuming that I could just close my eyes and picture that he was the receptionist from downstairs. I smiled, slipped my fingers into my pants and slid them and my underwear off my hips to reveal my cock hanging loosely down between my balls. It wasn't particularly cold in the room, but the air seemed to swirl around my freshly exposed genitals and my cock started to swell.

The young man grinned, slowly dropped to his knees and absorbed the view of my package now just a foot or so from his face. His look of anticipation and longing left me proud. I was entirely comfortable on display for him.

He leaned in and nestled his face below my package and against my leg and I felt his tongue dart out across my left testicle as if that was the only place in the universe it should be at that moment. I kept my eyes open and watched his expressions as he lapped and sucked my balls. He was beautiful. My cocked swelled to full mast.

He pressed his lips at the base of my shaft and methodically ran them up toward my tip. I felt the new warmth and moistness across each successive inch until he circled my head and sucked it inside his mouth. Blood pulsed into my cock and the head engorged. He felt it, too, and applied his tongue to the underside. He worked just my head and the movements of his mouth and lips and head seemed choreographed; his dance was captivating. It was beautiful to watch.

He then subsumed my cock quarter-inch by quarter-inch, sucking rhythmically. My pleasure grew from low in my abdomen drawn ever downward. Upon reaching the base he drew his lips up to the tip again before sucking back down my shaft a little quicker this time. After withdrawing a second time he let my cock slip from his mouth. He looked my in the eye and said, "Please sit down."

I did as requested and he settled his body between my legs, rested his arm on my thighs and delicately grasped my shaft with just his fingertips on both hands. "I'm so glad I went to the wrong hotel," he said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because THIS is no business transaction. This is pure lust!" he said, and I believed him. He couldn't know me from a hundred words of dialogue, but I believed him. God he was beautiful.

He resumed his dance on my cock with his mouth and I considered the 'purity' he referenced. I realized that I had never felt such a natural connection. He continued his methodical motions up and down my shaft without ever speeding up. He knew exactly what I needed. Pleasure percolated in my groin. My torso tingled, then my arms and neck and down my legs. I felt my seed bubbling in my prostate. I looked at his majestic face and watched his lips stretch with each upward motion..... And the essence of my body rushed through my loins and gushed into his mouth. Pulse after pulse fed his purpose. I gave all of myself to him.

He slowly opened his eyes, grinned and subtly swallowed while looking me in the eye. I reached down and touched his cheek with just my fingertips as gently as he touched my shaft. Our silence affirmed the purity of what we had just enjoyed.