Selling the Pitch

I was beginning to see why no one else wanted to travel with Brett. It seemed he was not so great at planning things.

"It was supposed to be two queens," Brett told me.

The two of us stood with our hands on our hips, glancing around at the lush hotel room. It was more spacious and accommodating than any other room I'd ever stayed in. The room smelled great, like fresh open air, which was a huge plus for a busy hotel like this. The flat screen was enormous. The mini fridge was hidden in a luxurious dresser door and was actually a decent size. A plush love seat was positioned against one wall. The sliding doors led to a balcony that overlooked a sprawling lake and rolling green countryside. It wasn't a master suite, but it was nicer than any hotel I'd ever stayed at in my short life.

There was only a single king sized bed.

Brett shook his head, tossing up a single hand in mild frustration.

"Website said two queens, clearly," he told me calmly. "I filtered the rooms for specifically that. I know I did."

I glanced at him. "You... you don't think they'd pay for another room, would they? Like, separate rooms?"

Brett shook his bald head. "Yeah, believe me, I tried that one, too. Used to be that way, but since we've got this new financial controller, Regina? She does everything by the books. Doesn't let anything slide."

I nodded. I had no idea what the next step was. We were three hundred miles from home, and it didn't seem like we had many options. I waited for Brett to come through with an answer. He always seemed to know how to fix things.

I wondered if he was intentionally waiting for me to do that. This wasn't some weird test, was it?

I motioned toward the balcony.

"It's got a nice view, at least?" I said.

Brett seemed to be thinking. His face grew flat and his square jaw moved as if he were grinding his teeth. Finally, he rubbed his smooth head and stepped away from his luggage.

"Think I'm gonna have to try to talk to the front desk," Brett said. "Maybe see if they can fix us up with the room we should have gotten. Hell, maybe I made a mistake."

I remembered the flooded lobby downstairs. Glancing around the room, I tried to think of a way to make things go more smoothly for Brett. It's what I was here for after all.

"It's just for three days," I said. "If nothing else, I have no problem crashing on that love seat over there."

Brett gave me a polite smile.

"Look I know you're trying to do a good job as an associate, Will," Brett told me, "but that doesn't mean you need to slum it on the couch. If word gets back that I had you in a room with nowhere to sleep, it'll just make things worse. Can't let them think I was abusing our rookie, can I?"

I stared at the bed. It was a king. Things needed to go well for the both of us. I knew a call back to the office wasn't what Brett needed. It wasn't likely for us to find another room at the height of the summer in one of the most popular hotels near the water.

"Well, we're grownups aren't we?" I offered. "Bed looks big enough. Don't see any harm in sharing if you don't hog the covers. Besides, it's just a few nights, right? I don't have a problem with it if you don't."

Brett looked at me. At first I thought he might give me a little speech about me trying to overachieve or being too accommodating. Instead he turned a glance on the bed.

"Saves us one headache at least," Brett said.

Brett looked at me and gave me one of his perfect white smiles. He placed a firm hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"See?" He said, "You'll do fine with this sales thing. Just help me push the drones like that tomorrow and we'll be in great shape."

I grinned but looked away. The larger guy removed his hand and moved to his luggage, unzipping the travel bag.

It was already late in the day. I was pretty worn out from the drive. I was the acting chauffeur after all. The two of us settled in and unpacked our luggage. I spent a lot of the time texting my wife and letting her know that we'd made it to the hotel. It felt odd being away from her like this, especially knowing that I was on a trip with someone from work.

"Think I'm going to freshen up and pay a visit to the bar downstairs," Brett told me as he grabbed a few items from his bag. "I think they sell food if you didn't get enough to eat earlier. Wanna join?"

I shook my head and grinned politely.

"Nah," I said. "I think I'm just gonna take it easy."

Brett turned to face me. I saw his signature grin creep across his clean shaven face.

"You sure?" He said. "Prism Tech may not be buying the drinks but I sure will. I know a recipe I think you'll love. You're a rum guy right? Hell if the bartender can't make it I'll do it."

I tried to hide my sigh behind my smile. Brett sure knew how to go on the attack, no matter the scenario. I wasn't sure he knew how to turn it off.

"N-no, thanks," I told him, standing firm. "I think I'm gonna call home and finish getting settled. I'm beat."

Brett nodded. "Suit yourself, Will. Tomorrow night will be better. We'll have to celebrate running out of business cards and pamphlets."

I snickered, tucking away a few pairs of socks in an empty drawer. Brett gathered a few articles of clothing, then pulled his collared polo over his head.

I pretended not to notice. I saw him out of my periphery. In that moment I felt awkward, though I tried my best not to show it. Brett removed his shirt first, then tugged his trousers down his legs as though it were any other time and date. He was so carefree about it. We couldn't have been standing just a few feet apart at the dresser.

I couldn't help but sneak a few peeks at him. He was right there. Brett had always looked in great shape to me, but I had no idea. In an instant I felt inadequate. Brett's body was pale, and it seemed he was hairless everywhere. He had the sort of figure I'd only seen in movies. It was so odd to be standing so closely to a guy I worked with, someone that I barely knew in any other setting.

Brett fetched what looked like a hygiene bag and turned toward the open bathroom door. He wore only boxers, and I caught myself staring at the hard curves that lined his back. He didn't shut the bathroom door behind him.

I took the opportunity to find a pair of shorts and a tshirt I'd packed. I quickly changed into them, watching the open bathroom door as I did. The rest of my clothes I decided to hang up in the little closet across from the bathroom. I made sure not to look into the bathroom when I passed. I could hear the shower water running, and the sounds of water splashing as Brett washed himself. I thought of closing the door, but I didn't want to send any rude impressions. I shrugged it off instead.

When I looked out at the sky through the balcony, I could see that the sun was finally setting. I decided it was a good time to sit outside with my feet up. I arranged a few more things from my luggage, then pulled my laptop from its case and began booting it up. I replied to a few more encouraging messages from my wife. I made a mental note to call her after Brett went downstairs to the bar.

I distantly heard the shower water stop, but busily tapped my fingers on the screen of my phone. When my laptop came to life, I made sure to check that it was still charged. I had a feeling it would be my new friend after a day full of seminars and meet and greets.

I glanced up when Brett reentered the room.

I froze.

Brett did not even look at me. He made his way directly to the dresser. He acted as though nothing were amiss.

Brett was completely naked.

He wore no towel, nor did he make any attempt to hide himself. Droplets of water still glistened from the hard peaks of his shoulders. I saw the way his midsection rippled as he walked. I lifted my phone a bit higher in my hands, tucking it closely to my chest and pretending to text. My eyes still darted up to peer through my eyebrows.

Brett's dick bounced and wobbled with his every step.

I wasn't like that. It was just so hard not to stare. The guy was in great shape. He didn't seem to have a hair on his body. Brett's upper body seemed to narrow right into his hips. His thighs looked like some kind of hard armor.

The thing that sent heat spreading across my skin was the dangling dick between his legs. There was no hair there either, no hiding the flaccid limb from my eyes. Once again, I felt inferior. His pale skin was reddened by the hot shower water he'd just stepped out of, and the thick drooping dick was flushed with color.

Brett seemed unfazed by his nudity and my apparent proximity. I remained still, praying that I didn't draw his attention. It was offensive that he'd just strut out of the bathroom the way he had. He was still my boss, and I still had to spend several days with him. I acted oblivious, pecking through my phone. The flaccid thing practically flopped up as he tugged the waistband around his hips. I thought I could even hear it smack Brett's body when it was tucked into his briefs.

I found other things to focus on as Brett got dressed. He chose a simple collared shirt, much like the one he'd taken off, and a pair of white shorts. I fiddled with my laptop, connecting it to the hotel wifi. I swiped through my phone. Not once did I dare allow my eyes to lift toward Brett. At least, not when he could notice.

"Sure you don't want to hang out downstairs, Carl?" He offered. "It doesn't all have to be business."

I shook my head and offered him a grin.

"Nah, you go ahead," I told him.

"Well, have it your way," Brett told me. "Just don't lock me out, you hear?"

I maintained the grin, hoping that the heat wasn't still showing through my skin. Brett let the hotel room door shut loudly behind him and I was left in the silence of the room.

For much of the evening, I lounged on one of the chairs on the balcony. I'd called my wife, and we'd chatted for a good while. It helped ease my mind about the trip and took me away for a bit. It also made me miss home already. I was only a few hours away, but it was so strange to be staying somewhere new with someone I only knew from work.

After the call home, I browsed on my laptop, doom scrolling through and endless chain of links and online curiosities. The sun was setting far off beyond the lake, bleeding its incredible colors into the waters below. I was able to watch the sun sink behind the horizon as a chorus of nightlife erupted all around. I found a few videos to watch in the darkness of the balcony. I even thought of finding the book I'd been reading in my travel bag.

No matter what I did, my brain kept playing the images of Brett back on a loop behind my eyes.

It had been so odd. Maybe Brett was one of the guys that spent his youth in locker rooms around other guys. He certainly went to the gym a lot, that much was evident. Still, there had to be some kind of common boundaries, right? It made me feel more nervous about the trip. The sensation kept gnawing at my insides. Maybe I just wasn't cut out to travel and meet new people.

His cock kept appearing in my mind.

I couldn't help it. His body was enough. I'd only thought of women to have curves. The lines carved in his chest and his midsection were impossible. Even thinking of them, it weirded me out realizing that I knew exactly how they'd feel if I touched them. But that thing... he was limp, and it looked like

that

. It hung with weight I couldn't fathom. The textures and lines were all like his own signature fingerprint. Mine looked nothing like that, especially not when it was limp.

I tried to rub my eyes and erase the flashes of memories but they were burned into my mind by the heat of embarrassment. Brett acted like it was nothing. The more I allowed myself to even think about him, the more my mind slid down a disgusting slope of wonder. How would it look... if it were....

I closed my laptop. I was weary, and it had to be getting to me. I stretched to my full height and gave the twilight glow of the lake a final look before turning and heading into the room. I could use the sleep. The late sunsets made it feel much earlier than it was, and the morning would feel much earlier the longer I fought sleep.

I plugged my laptop back in and set it on the desk next to the dresser. Pulling back the huge covers on the bed, I pressed my hands into the mattress. I sighed with relief when I felt the soft material give beneath my fingers. At least I'd have no trouble sleeping away from my own bed.

I pulled off my shorts and set them aside with my luggage, then turned to climb into the bed before I stopped.

I'd be sharing this bed. Briefly, I considered what I was wearing. The tshirt and loose boxer shorts were what I wore at home. Brett would be right beside me. Shaking my head, I ignored the thoughts. I had to grow up. What was I going to do, wear pants to sleep?

I fell into the freshly cleaned sheets and pulled the covers up to my chest. I made sure to scoot to one side of the bed to allow room for Brett. Reaching for the light on the wall above the nightstand, I clicked it off and sank into the darkness of the room. The nervous feeling began to sink deeper and seep from my pores. The following day would be nerve racking, but it wasn't the time to dwell on it.

It would all have to wait until morning.

****

I didn't wake when Brett climbed into bed. I never knew that he did. For several moments, I blinked my eyes in confusion, unsure if they were even open. The room was impossibly dark. I heard a rustle of the thick covers beside me. I let my mind piece together the cause, that it must have been Brett coming to bed.

I was flat on my back, but my head was tilted to one side toward the edge of the bed. I could see the dull red glow of a digital clock on the nightstand beside me. It was just after midnight. It must have been Brett returning to the room. Part of me could sense his body beside me. There was a fullness to the covers that hadn't existed when I'd laid down. I thought I could feel the heat of his body. I could definitely hear him breathing.

I shifted my leg, bending it at the knee and lifting my heel toward my body beneath the covers. It was more comfortable, but my groggy logic told me it was a good way to check that Brett hadn't rolled too closely to me. That would be a little weird. I felt nothing but space along the mattress. I closed my eyes and began drifting back into the comfort of nothingness, letting the moments fade away.

Something touched my leg.

At first I thought it might have been the covers settling onto my knee. The warmth that met my skin was not from the covers. My eyes fluttered open. I lay still, trying to figure out what was happening.

Fingers.

When they moved I could tell. Fingertips grazed my skin so gently that I could hardly tell if they were real. The hand seemed to glide with such careful precision. The skimming touches sent little static pulses through my body. Chills raced up my back, even buried in the warmth of the bed as I was.

Soon I felt the thumb. Then the wide palm. The hand eased its way onto my thigh like a snake sliding into water.

Brett's hand was on my leg.

I should have jumped. I should have flung the covers into the dark and shot out of the bed. The man was in bed with me, but was violating my space, my leg! I was shocked. I wanted to react but I was just so blown away by the fact that it was actually happening that I lay there petrified.

For the longest time, the hand didn't move. It simply rested on my open thigh. The warmth of Brett's palm melded with the heat of my own skin. Still I didn't move. I gave no signs that I was awake. Was Brett even aware of what he was doing? I listened to his steady breath, and I could hear the rise and fall of his chest. It was rhythmic, as though he were sleeping.

God, he was probably one of those people that did things in their sleep they were unaware of. His hand was on my inner thigh now, uncomfortably just inches from my boxer shorts. I thought of just turning over on my side. Would that draw him closer? To other parts of my body? I shuddered to think of him scooting closer to my backside in his sleep.

The hand crept forward.

I made no move. Still I heard Brett breathing. His longest fingers had inched forward though, I knew it. I had to do something. Roll over, or get up to go to the bathroom. I needed to reset this, whether Brett knew what he was doing or not.

Did he? Did he know?

The thoughts whirled in my brain. The implications should have sent me reeling from the bed, and yet I remained still. I was searching so hard for some logical explanation to this. He had to be sleeping, right? He was so used to sleeping in a bed with his wife, like me. Brett was probably somewhere in between sleep and the waking world, buzzed from one too many drinks at the bar downstairs. How awkward would it be if I lurched out of bed and made a scene of things on our first night? I still had to stay here with this guy for several more days.

Brett's hand slid forward again. I felt his fingers give my thigh a gentle squeeze.

Afterward the hand froze. I was still frozen. This had to be intentional... but why? Was he really groping me? The idea of confronting him on something so vile was frightening.

Two fingers made their way past the end of my boxers.

Brett's hand was so close to my crotch it made me shudder. I should have been disturbed. It felt creepy but... I still wasn't pushing him away or freaking out. I just laid there waiting. Clearly his hand was sliding closer to my underwear. His big palm was now resting on my upper thigh. His fingers were so close.

He was awake. He had to be. Brett knew what he was doing. The realization was actually... thrilling. No human being had ever approached me in such a perverse way, let alone a guy. Yet the fingers slid closer. I felt the skin of my balls begin to writhe just from the proximity and the anticipation. Some tiny reverberation of energy shot through my shriveled dick. Brett was touching me. He was trying to do so without me knowing. A huge part of me wanted to bat him away like any sane person.

A deeper part of me wanted to wait.

This wasn't my wife's tiny hand. These weren't the soft slender fingers of a woman. It was so much more forbidden. A man had his hand on me. I could feel the weight of his arm. The soft hair on his hardened leather wrist was something I'd never felt in such a private, tender area as my inner thigh. My mind coiled into itself. I wondered how much of this I'd allow.

The hard fingertips dipped toward the tender flesh where my leg met my crotch. My lips opened. I sucked in a breath before I could stop myself. I didn't dare move. It wasn't easy. My body felt like a white flash of lightning zapped straight through me. I was ready to bolt from the bed or flip over in protest.

Brett's hand was still. The heavy tips of his fingers nestled into the fleshy crevice beside my crotch. His knuckles were inside my boxers now. A man's hand was in my underwear. I wasn't stopping him. The darkness began playing tricks on me. What if it was a dream? What if I had made too much of a mental fuss before climbing into bed that I was spinning up some strange dream where Brett was attempting to fondle me?

The darkness kept playing its games. I stared into the nothingness beside the bed, but my eyes started to see shapes take form. Brett had walked into the room naked. I could still see the swollen curves in his pale upper body. There was no way to keep myself from remembering the way his long limp dick had just dangled between his legs.

Was he that way now? Was Brett naked under the covers?

Each thought grew nastier than the last. Each one fanned heat through my veins, quickening my pulse until it beat its deafening rhythm against my eardrums.