Part 2
I should explain ...
I met Matt in Philadelphia at a conference on emerging technologies conducted by the Wharton School of Business. Those things typically start with a booze-fueled reception called a meet and greet. Although I'm a friendly guy, I don't light up a room and idle chit-chat confounds me. So I wound up on the periphery of the room, nursing a craft beer, hoping to find a brochure to occupy my attention.
That's where Matt found me. He had two beers and handed one to me.
"There has to be a better way to start a conference," he said with a pained grin that morphed into a gentle smile. He seemed the sort of guy who would fit in any crowd. I wondered why he would end up in the backwaters with me.
I clinked my beer to his. "I think a map of the local bars and restaurants would work better. Let people find their own way."
He nodded. "Just a wandering herd of out-of-towners with name tags stuck on their shirts that say: Hi! My name is Matt!" He laughed. "By the way, my name is Matt."
"I'm Alan." His handshake was gentle and lasted longer than most. "Here's an interesting factoid, Matt. These meet and greets are based on a concept borrowed from nuclear physics. Get highly charged particles in close proximity and a chain reaction will result."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Except in physics, those particles are described as unstable, and the product of a chain reaction is terrible toxic waste that no one knows what to do with. I wonder if conference organizers ever consider that because I sure do."
Matt chuckled and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Is that true?"
"I doubt it. I just made it up."
Matt gave an endearing laugh. His blue eyes were captivating and I forced myself not to stare. "I already like you, Alan," he said alluringly. "Maybe the event is not a wasteland after all."
Just then we were joined by an effervescent woman who placed a guiding hand on Matt's shoulder. Her name tag announced her as a conference coordinator named Rachel.
"Matt, I'd like you to meet someone I think is interested in the same area as you." She turned her attention to me, "You don't mind, do you," she glanced at my name tag, "... Alan?"
As she led a helpless Matt away, Rachel remonstrated over her shoulder, "Mingle, Alan, mingle."
I stayed at the reception a while longer. I even mingled a bit but only to avoid Rachel's censure. I kept feeling eyes upon me and would discover they belonged to Matt. Once, he discretely gestured to the people he was circled with and mouthed the word "unstable."
Distance gave me a better view. His blond hair tended to topple across his forehead and with a finger flip he would often toss it back. His face was broad and beaming with a dimpled smile. From thirty feet, his eyes still shone blue. For a moment I thought there was something feminine about him then decided that wasn't right. But there was a quality that I associated with the female face. Something fascinating, an allure.
I looked for him as I left. A woman was engaging him intently and she was flanked by another competing for her turn. Why not, I thought? Of all the men gathered here, Matt was the flame that drew the moth. Then he looked over and our eyes met again. He responded to my wave with a smile and nod. I thought, Was that a tic in his eye or a wink?
I called Jenny before turning in. I was feeling oddly unsettled. "We're in a good place, aren't we? I mean financially? Our careers?"
"I'd say we're in a great place. Why? Are you saying it's time for us to have "the talk"?"
"Yeah. I think so. I think the time is right for us to start our family."
"I've been thinking that, too." Jenny cooed, "At this point in my life there is nothing I want more than to have a baby with you."
The next morning began early as I checked an item off my bucket list. The 5K Rocky Run, following the same route as in the iconic Rocky movie. It even ended with me racing up the steps of the Philly Museum of Art, leaping two at a time. Corny, I know, but I felt triumphant dancing at the top with arms held high.
When I got back to the hotel, I dashed across the lobby to catch an elevator. It was nearly full with conference attendees. It would have been polite to wait for the next car but I squeezed in. From the back, someone joked, "It suddenly smells very manly in here."
A snigger went through the elevator. I looked over my shoulder and there was Matt staring back with a cheeky grin. Again, there was a tic in his eye.
The next time I saw Matt was at a plenary session before lunch. All the conference attendees were assigned seats at round tables arrayed throughout a large room. Matt and I were separated by a third table but with a clear line of sight of each other, close enough for the mischievous glint of his blue eyes to be visible.
The keynote speaker was a prominent author and dynamic force in the world of business. His presentation was a pep talk about the potential of finance to steer the global economy. I don't harbor such lofty ambitions and my values don't skew toward world domination, so I found the presentation less than inspiring. Apparently, my cynicism was matched by Matt. He caught my eye, then glanced about the room while mouthing the word, "unstable." The people at my table glared at my sudden outburst of laughter.
Big screen monitors arrayed along the walls presented the speaker's slides. I tried to pay polite attention but found myself distracted by Matt. He was focused on me with a gaze that was visceral and somewhat delectable. It was like a tractor beam that conveyed a promise, an invitation, and I could feel my restraint coming undone. I had never been tempted by a man. In fact, since meeting Jenny, I had never been seriously tempted by anyone. Now the embers of forbidden lust were flaring. That gaze was magnetic and drew me within Matt's thrall.
Sometime later the lights came up and the author sat down. I clapped robotically trying to emulate the others. Then there was a pause in the events as a sumptuous buffet was laid out in the back. My table mates began to discuss the presentation in heady tones. All I knew was that Matt stood and left the room. I excused myself and followed.
He was standing by the elevators with a scattering of other conference escapees. He smiled as I approached, my eyes again linked with his. I don't know if anyone noticed my timorous breaths as I joined them. The doors opened. He and I stood side by side as the elevator rose. He looked my way. No words were spoken but his blue eyes beckoned and, surreptitiously, his fingertips played with mine.
There was a ding. The doors opened. Our fingertips separated as he stepped from the elevator. I followed. We stood in the hallway as the doors closed behind us. Again, his fingertips grazed mine and he led me to his room.
Inside and alone, Matt's hands gently held my head as his lips gravitated toward mine.
"I'm married," I said, trembling.
His kiss was soft and moist as his mouth briefly skated atop mine.
"I know," he replied.
Matt's lips parted as his tongue grazed across my mouth. With a teasing allure, it found its way inside. I welcomed it and heaved a sigh as my tongue began to dance with his. I clutched him tightly in total surrender.
He waltzed me to his bedside and opened my shirt. His hands roamed my chest and massaged my pecs as we kissed. I felt myself lowered upon the mattress. His lips abandoned mine as he kissed my ribs and stomach and loosened my pants. Then his eyes again captured mine as he ripped off my shoes and cast my trousers and briefs aside.
With his hot, steady gaze upon me, he shucked his shirt and pants and stood over me. I took him in with my eyes. He was firm and smooth. His cock was hard. It stretched toward me. My breath quivered as I considered the insistence in its form. My eyes tracked to my own cock. It was turgid and urgently throbbing.
Matt lay with me as our mouths resumed their synchronicity. My heart leapt when his fingertips first caressed my cockhead and a shudder coursed to my toes when he clasped my shaft. Then he began to stroke me in rhythm to the dance of our tongues. All I could do was clutch him and urge him on with my kiss.
His blue eyes peered into mine. "Have you ever held another man's cock?"
"No."
He wrapped my fingers around his girth.
