The first 10 chapters were from my perspective, of Jason Randall. A mid-thirties married guy. The next 2 chapters are from the perspective of my boss, late 30s gay Scott Banks. Enjoy.
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Scott's Perspective: I finished up at the convention and went back to my hotel. Marcus was waiting for me. My balls felt heavy and I wanted to drop a load. This had been a crazy week. I just couldn't get Jason Randall off my mind.
I ran the last several days over in my head. I never would have imagined everything that had happened. I had only been with the company six weeks. This was going to be my first convention and an opportunity to meet my field sales team. I had spoken to every one of my reps via phone over the last couple of weeks. I had a good idea which reps were the money makers and which ones that would have to go. And Jason Randall was the #1 rep in the country. By himself, he drove 25% of our sales -- and almost 33% of our revenue. The guy could sell and he sold our high dollar solutions. He was my rainmaker!
I was anxious to meet him and wanted to do so prior to Vegas. I had been visiting clients in Salt Lake City, then planning to fly into Vegas. Jason was coming to Vegas from Saint Louis. I figured a central meeting place would be Denver. We could connect there and fly in to Vegas together. The 1 on 1 time would be great. I had some ideas of how I could leverage this guy further and turn this group around.
The day started out well, but the forecast was for snow in Denver. My plane from Salt Lake City boarded late due to mechanical failure -- the airlines code for combining 2 flights into one to maximize profits. We left a couple hours late. And then we circled and circled over Denver. I had left a few text messages for Jason and was happy to see him responding quickly. He told me the weather in Denver was grim and they were starting to cancel flights. He was booking a room just in case things deteriorated further. Once I was in the air, we were incommunicado for a couple hours.
The landing in Denver was a bit nerve wracking. The winds were gusty and visibility was next to nothing. We landed very hard and I was tense from the trip. I powered up my phone and got a couple of messages from Jason. Our connecting flight was cancelled and he had moved over to the airport Holiday Inn. I dialed his number and he answered -- it was difficult to hear him due to loud background noise.
"Hi Scott -- where are you?" Jason asked me.
"I am finally at DIA. We just landed. Where are you...a bar?" I inquired.
Jason sheepishly answered, "Yep. Good company. Even better beer."
I laughed at his honesty and told him I would be over as soon as I could get a shuttle. That was easier said than done. The airport was packed with people -- all stuck there. My luggage was still in the belly of the plane, apparently the ground crew had called it a night. And the hotel shuttle service was slowed significantly due to the weather. A trip that would have usually taken 5 or 10 minutes took almost 2 hours. I wondered if I was going to spend the night in the airport.
As I waited I called the Holiday Inn. No surprise, they were booked. I called my secretary in California and asked her to look into other hotels. She called back quickly and said everything around the airport was booked -- the closest she could get me would be Aurora -- about a 20 minute drive (in good conditions).
I sent a text to Jason. [Hotels filled. Mind if I bunk w/ you?]
I waited a bit...then called Jason. I got a message -- All Circuits Busy. Shit!
The drive to the hotel was wild. Being a California boy, I am not used to the amount of snow we had. There was already about 2 feet on the ground. The van got stuck a couple of times -- but we finally made it to the hotel. The lobby was filled with people, and the staff was putting portable cots up for the overflow. This was crazy. I went up to the desk and asked for Jason's room. They rang up to the room, but there was no answer. I tried his phone a couple of times, but just got his voicemail.
I figured he must be in the bar and headed toward all the noise. It was packed. I walked in and looked around. There must have been 300 people crammed in the place -- for sure it was a fire code violation. I couldn't even make it up to the bar. I ordered a couple drinks from a passing waitress -- she looked really frazzled. But the $50 tip I gave her up front kept her loyal to me. I talked with some other weary travelers as I pulled back a total of 4 martinis over about 90 minutes. I was getting a good buzz.
I went for the bathroom and upon entering bumped right into someone. I almost knocked him on his ass -- and had to grab him so he didn't end up on the floor. He was about 6 inches shorter than me -- that would make him about 6' tall. Wow -- was he good looking. Soft brown hair, grown longer on top -- shorter on the sides. Dazzling hazel eyes you could get lost in. A strong angular face. A strong 5 o'clock shadow. His face was tanned and toned. He looked like an athlete. This guy could have been a clone of James Denton, the actor.
He drunkenly apologized for banging into me. "No problem, buddy," I replied.
I enjoyed looking at him. His guard was down and I was horny as hell. And I wouldn't be meeting up with my boyfriend Marcus for 2 more days in Vegas. Damn, this guy was eye candy, though!
I watched my drunken friend turn back toward the urinals. I watched him sway back and forth a bit. Man, he must be pretty drunk. There were two urinals against the wall. I took the opportunity and stood right next to him. He was mumbling, trying to undo his pants and I didn't hide my interest in him. I don't engage in bathroom encounters or one night stands -- but don't mind taking in views of the male form when I can.
This guy was so drunk he could barely speak. I admit I was feeling no pain either -- the martinis were kicking in full force. I hadn't eaten since noon today and it must have been close to 10 pm now. But I was nowhere as far gone as my bathroom friend...and I couldn't help but laugh at every little stumble he made, or when he had to lean right up against me so he wouldn't fall down.
He finally managed to free his cock and let loose a strong stream of pee. I watched, fascinated. His cock was soft -- about 3 inches and cut. Nice looking head. His pubes were slightly darker than the sandy brown hair on his head. He let go of his dick as he sprayed into the urinal -- he had to reach up with one hand on the plumbing to steady himself. His other hand reached over and grabbed onto my sports coat, clenching it for support. His urine was almost clear -- a good indication of being hammered.
He groaned and he finished up peeing. "Ohhhhhhhhh, feelz good." he stammered.
I voided quickly and felt my cock start to expand ever so slightly in my hand. I am a show-er myself...my cock usually stays about 5 inches thick and spongy during the day, hanging over my large hairy balls. And speaking of hair -- I have it everywhere...with the exception of my shoulders and back. Everywhere else I am covered with thick black curly hair.
I turned towards my friend with my dick in my hand and shook it slightly, knocking off any stray drops of urine before I put it back in my pants. He looked over at me with a goofy smile and looked down. When he saw my cock, his eyes got wide and his mouth opened.