"Here's your key, Dr. Morgado. Take the elevator up to the second floor and your room is on the right. Room 237. Have a nice night."
"Thank you." I took the key card and grabbed the handle of my rolling suitcase. I looked at my boyfriend, Jeffery, who looked crabby. Lovely.
I headed to the elevator and Jeffery followed. I pushed the button and the door slid right open. My thanks for that small miracle. Today had been way longer than expected. We hadn't made it as far as we'd hoped to.
We got a flat tire only two hours into the trip. You'd think a doctor and an engineer could figure out how to change a tire, but not so much, as it turns out. Thankfully I had gotten the roadside safety coverage on the rental car.
It took forever for the tire guy to arrive. It took him about ten minutes to accomplish what me and Jeffery could not. I felt judged. Maybe it was because Jeffery stood there in his tight khaki shorts and his bright pink polo, with his hand on his hip, watching the repairman. I just imagined what that guy thought about us two, large, fit men, who couldn't change a tire.
That delay seemed to domino all day and every stage of the trip took longer than planned. We finally stopped for the night, over 100 miles shy of where we planned on getting to. This was a regular chain hotel, nice and clean, $145 for the night. I was glad for a bed and shower. Jeffery was less than impressed.
Inside room 237, there was a couch and TV with a fridge and microwave below it. A big king bed was beyond the living room area. Jeffery flopped onto the bed and let out a huge, dramatic breath. I just rolled my suitcase to the far side of the bed and started to pull out a clean pair of boxers and my toiletries bag.
"I'm taking a shower. Do you want to order food while I'm in there?"
"This place doesn't have room service, Al. Am I supposed to magically make food appear?"
Oh, so fucking dramatic. I sarcastically pointed to the cardboard stand up by the phone.
"Order food. You know, like pizza or Chinese or burritos. There's a list of local places right there. Can we decide so I can take a shower, please?" I was trying really hard to not lose my temper. I had the same long ass day that he did.
"Fine. It says we can get Chipotle delivered through the app. That sounds okay." He finally appeared to be trying. Kind of.
"Chipotle would be great. I'll start it on my phone and then you can order and finish it up while I hop in the shower. Sound okay, sweetie?" I already had the app pulled up, entering our delivery info and my burrito bowl order.
He took my phone, "thanks, doc."
I climbed into the shower. It had nice water pressure. I thought about how hungry I was. I thought about the rental car. I thought about Jeffery's mood. I tried not to think about our destination.
After my shower, I walked into the room and sat on the bed. Jeffery was lying there looking at his tablet. Probably work stuff. He had a big project that his engineering firm had just won the bid on and he was in the early phases, which he couldn't ignore, even on a day off.
We had met on a blind date, arranged by one of the women I worked with at the hospital. Jeffery was her neighbor and newly single. I had been single for a while. My last relationship had ended badly, almost a year ago. I had gotten busy with work and life and had kind of forgotten to date. It made me feel old.
I wasn't old. I was forty. I was fit and healthy. I was good looking. I'm Cuban and I have golden highlighted brown hair and bright golden hazel eyes. I wore a perfectly maintained scruff on my face that made me look rugged and swarthy. I was six foot, two inches and I weighed in at 220. I trained nearly everyday and I carried a lot of muscle mass. My arms, thighs and chest were pretty ripped.
Jeffery and I had been dating for four months. He and I liked to work out together. Our sexual chemistry was really bumpy though. Sometimes it was hotter than hell. Sometimes I might as well be single. I have no idea why it was such a roller coaster and that made me crazy, especially lately.
Recently I had been feeling like he enjoyed dating a well off doctor, not necessarily Al Morgado, the man. I do have a gorgeous condo in a high rise, with the most beautiful view. I have a blacked out Audi R8 as my daily driver. I also have a Ferrari 488. I have a vacation rental in Hawaii. He loves all of that stuff.
I think he occasionally realized he needed to keep me on the line somehow, so we'd have a wild weekend of hot sex and then it dwindled until he needed to appease me again. This kind of thing was why I didn't date for a long time before Jeffery, I remembered.
Jeffery Burnell was a good looking guy. He'd be a great catch if he wasn't so self centered. At 33, he's five feet, ten inches and weighs 175. He worked out everyday, without fail. He had blue eyes and brown hair and a megawatt smile. He was less than happy about the fact we were on this road trip instead of flying, first class, to Hawaii.
There was an alert on my phone that the food had been delivered to our door. It brought me back from the pity party I'd been having just then. I just wished I didn't feel used. At least there were burritos at the door.
We sat on the couch and ate off the coffee table while we watched an episode of The Voice. I liked the show and I love Kelly Clarkson, but I missed Adam Levine. He was the eye candy that kept me coming back for so many seasons. John Legend was pretty sexy, but Adam was my favorite.
I sat back on the couch after I ate as much carnitas as I could handle. I man-spread my long legs and reached into my boxers to adjust my junk. That seemed to get Jeffery's attention. Maybe tonight would get better after all. I definitely preferred him stuffed with my cock, over any other option. Especially lately.
I grabbed myself through my boxers and squeezed my thick shaft. His eyes were trained on my meat. I adjusted my fist full of cock again and he was practically drooling now.
"You interested in some dessert, Jeffery?"
"Uh-huh." He moved in close as he answered me. He kissed my chest and made his way down to my waistband. He put his hand over mine, which was still on my dick. "Let's move to the bed."
He stood and offered me a hand. I took it, stood up and followed him. I pushed him down, playfully, and waited until he laid back and looked up at me. I slid my boxers off and let him get an eyeful. I was getting hard pretty quickly.
When fully aroused, I'm just shy of nine inches and very thick. I got the name "killer" in med school. I had plenty of willing victims that wanted to get killed by this cock. I was a serial "killer" back then, my body count was so high.