John was a distinguished looking man and ever so friendly. Young Peter was not exactly sure what he did in the hotel but he always seemed to be on his floor when Peter came out of his room or in the foyer when he returned to the hotel after work. John was such a big man, very handsome in a rugged sort of way and always took the opportunity to put his arm around Peter's shoulder or to give his arm a squeeze.
Young Peter had to admit to himself that he liked John; no, Peter was actually quite attracted to him but could not admit it to himself, since that would be so wrong, especially now he had a girlfriend, Ann. Well let's face it. Young Peter was an innocent abroad. He had no experience with women. Now, here he was in Toronto, on his own, quite lonely and staying in the hotel where John worked. Peter was on a training programme and knew no one in the big city. He felt feeling oh so alone and was always glad to see John's friendly smile. Oh Peter you were such a silly boy. John had plans for this handsome innocent.
John was the head of Hotel Security and had formerly worked for the government. He loved technology and all those electronic bits and bobs that no one else really cared for or knew the names of. From the privacy of his office he could see on the black and white monitors all the comings and goings of the guests and staff in the hotel. John was not married. Not now anyway. His wife had discovered that her big manly husband had a predilection for young men in their early twenties; yes, John enjoyed the company of handsome young men who took delight in male company and shunned the flighty, yet alluring females, who seriously outnumbered men in Toronto back then.
John was found out quite by accident. He had kept his secret under wraps for over 30 years and then made the mistake of bringing home, to his marital bed, an extremely handsome, twenty year old, sous chef. His pretty wife was away for the week but returned one day before she was supposed to. Imagine her horror upon finding the unfortunate John, ramming his weapon deeply in to the young, sous chef's well lubricated anal passage. That as they say was that. Screams, hysteria, name calling, phone calls, lawyers and two weeks later John is living in a cheap motel.
John was a really friendly, outgoing guy, who made a point of getting on with everyone. People liked the big man. Women found him very attractive and men were often quite envious of his manly physique; those who saw him in the showers especially so. John was one of those men who had been blessed with a long thick organ, big, low hanging, golf ball sized, testes and a mat of thick black hair. His arms, chest and legs were things of beauty, being muscular and his large, frame allowed even his pronounced paunch, to be pleasing to the eye.
John was a vastly experienced man when it came to picking up the young men to whom he found himself addicted. He liked them tall, slim, narrow at the waist and with slender hips. He loved the innocent, small town guys who were new to the big city and longing to experience life. He used his position in the hotel to befriend young male visitors to Toronto. He was good to them, a caring, helpful friend, a confidant and then a seducer. His goal in life was to bed as many young men as he could, to feed them his long thick cock and fill them with his cock cream. So many apparently straight young men, of whom their seemed to be an endless supply, went weak at the knees and then, eventually went down on their knees, once they caught sight of his wonderful, uncut weapon. Even he was surprised at how many were willing to allow him to use them and how easy it was for him to have their warm, wet, willing mouths suck on his engorged cock head .
John also had his little group of special friends on whom he could call for relief should the occasion arise and of course there were his boys. These were the lucky ones, who found favour with John and shared his bed, overnight. They could never do enough for John and he took his pleasure from them, in equal measure, to the pleasure he afforded them.
John also kept a book with the names of all the young men who were virgins until they met him; had never sucked a cock until they met him; had never given up their tight, little, back passageway to anyone, until they met him; and that number was 299. Needless to say John liked even numbers and he wanted to make number 300 a very memorable one.
The day the young 24 year old Peter checked in to his hotel, John just happened to be talking to the male receptionist. As the receptionist, a very effeminate young man, sorted things out for the young, handsome guest, John eyed him up and quickly decided that this tall, handsome, young, man, would make a perfect 300. The receptionist smiled to himself and fondly remembered his time with John, when he first came to work in the hotel, as he watched John's eyes follow the young guest.
John made the point of befriending the guy and making him feel especially welcome in the big city. To his delight the young Peter was from a small town miles away, was on his first business trip to the big city and truly was naïve. Peter was grateful for a friendly face in the hotel and quickly warmed to the charm of the big man, who reminded him of a kind, fatherly figure or favourite teacher. Feeling at ease with the seemingly ever present, older man, he was soon telling him, over coffee or a beer his life story, his dreams and all about his precious Ann.
Peter looked forward to chatting with his new friend and so when John invited him for a real drink that first Friday, Peter was happy to get a night out in the big city. John took him to a crowed bar down town and the beer flowed. When Peter got up to splash his boots John followed him in to the men's room. There were no separate cubicles here, just one long trough. As they were both relieving themselves Peter could not help but notice the force with which the older man was peeing and his gaze wandered down to the source of that power.
Peter was taken aback by the size of John's member but what fascinated him most, was the fact that, unlike him, John was not circumcised. How Peter wished he had not been cut. How Peter wished he had a cock that big, to give to his precious Ann, if she would only let him. When he finished, John deliberately made a point of drawing back his foreskin and shaking the remaining little droplets in to the trough while pretending, that he did not notice Peter looking at his beautiful cock, with envy and admiration. Every time thereafter that John went to the men's room Peter seemed to have to go as well, and always he stood beside him, and on each occasion, while pretending to talk about the weather or the ice hockey to whomsoever else was at the trough, on the other side, John pulled his foreskin back and forth revealing his great, purple, mushroom shaped head, thus causing his member to thicken perceptibly, knowing full well that Peter could not help but stare.
Back at the table were they sat Peter told John his life story and John cleverly stroked Peter's ego, laying his hand on his forearm or squeezing his shoulder at precise intervals. Peter had no idea what John was up to but he did not object to John's touches, in fact, he found them quite reassuring. Back home in nowhere's ville, Peter did not have many friends and his innate shyness did not afford him much success with women.
John's apartment just happened to be a few blocks from the city centre so he suggested that they should stop by his place for a nightcap and a little something extra. Of course, John had no beer, only whisky, a drink, whose effects Peter had rarely experienced. John popped two Viagra while he was preparing the drinks. He gave Peter whisky but put Ginger Ale in his own glass. He rolled a cigarette, heavily laden with good, green grass, lit it up, took a deep draw and handed it to Peter.
"I suppose you young fellows smoke this every day."
Not wishing to appear to be a goody two shoes, Peter lied.
"Yes, everyday. I love it."
