Mom came into my room and kissed me on the cheek. "Happy birthday, hun!" She handed me an envelope, and gave me a big hug.
"I can't believe it's your birthday! Are you taking a day off work today? Spending it doing something fun?"
The envelope was stiff, sealed, with the words written on the front. 'For Tony.'
I tore open the envelope, unfolded the cardβ two crisp hundred-dollar bills fell out onto my lap.
Written inside the card, "To our wonderful son, you're everything we could have dreamed of and more. ... Let your imagination flourish. ... May your birthday be a special one, and set direction for your personal new year. ... Happy 20th Birthday, love mom and dad."
I looked up at my mom. "Mom, can I borrow the car today for a few hours?"
"Sure hunny. Doing anything special?"
"Yes, I want to spend the two hundred dollars you and dad just gave me."
"Okay, hun. You have fun, you're so creative. I'm sure you'll be up to something dreamy." Mom left the room.
I got up and shut the door behind her. My emotions were on a high from all the love I was getting from the emails and text messages from friends and family.
I opened up my laptop and jumped on the bed. One of my favourite hobbies was reading posts on DoubleList. I found it sexy to read people's fantasies, reaching out to connect with other people to fulfill those fantasies.
I typed in doublelist.com in the browser window, and clicked on 'guys for guys'. Browsing through a few pages of ads, I paused at one that intrigued me.
I've hooked up with a guy once before, he was older to satisfy my daddy cravings, but I wanted something quick to fill my urges. Figured I'd find someone my age to fill my cravingβ the feeling of another guy's masculine bodyβ to celebrate my birthday.
I posted an ad, then I answered an ad for a hookup with a guy, 'vers, 21, 5'10" 6" cut cock.' The stats seemed non-intimidating and easy, and figured it'd allow me the safe space to get a cock down my throat, and, hopefully, fill my belly with some birthday-cream cum.
I closed my laptop and lay back in my bed. I began to touch myself, squeezing my cock, running my hands down to my balls. I gave them a tug; then ran my fingers down to my asshole, trying to slide one finger in. It felt so tight, but the touch felt so right.
I popped open my laptop. Checked my email and saw a ton of replies. I sifted through, it was hard to tell them all apart; I replied to a guy named Mike.
We exchanged a few emails and made plans to meet up.
"I'm in town here for work, staying at the Courtyard Marriott Downtown," Mike sent.
I replied, "Nice to meet you Mike, Tony here, sounds like we have a lot in common with our stats, would love to hang out in your hotel room after your work."
Mike's last email I received, read, "Just come to my room, 217, you won't need a key to access the elevator."
The night before, I didn't get much sleep due to having to work late. I was wired on a couple cups of coffee to get through the night. I was sleep-deprived from too much caffeine, and foggy-minded from the lack of sleep... and buzzing.
The mix of it all, plus my birthday, drove my horniness to another level, and lowered my inhibitions to where I wasn't thinking clearly. Typically, I'd reply that we meet for coffee first, but I figured, "He's my age, hey, let's just do it," then went and jumped in my parents' car.
During my drive, I could feel butterflies fill and swirl in my stomach; the tightness of my jeans restricting my swollen cock; my asshole puckering, craving the feeling of wanting to get fucked. I was aroused, and kept up the self talk. "You can do this, Simon... it'll be fun. You got nothing to worry about. You've done this before. Treat yourself, it's your birthday."
I pulled up to the hotel, the Courtyard Marriott. The hotel, twenty-stories tall overlooking the river valley. Surrounding the building were pawn shops, massage parlours, and the busyness of downtown. I circled the parking lot while my heart raced, found an open stall, and rolled into it.
I pulled the sun visor down, and opened up the mirror to give myself a final look over. I looked into my eyes, my face, my lips... imaging the face fucking I was going to get. I looked goodβ masculine, discreetβ no one would suspect that I had secret bisexual tendencies that popped up every four months. I took off my watch and placed it in the centre column, because I was meeting a stranger, I didn't want to risk getting robbed.
I got out of the car and walked across the lot towards the hotel entrance. My ass was puckering the whole time, from being so nervous, but I kept taking one step in front of the other.
I walked in the lobby confidently, like I was staying there, didn't make eye contact with the receptionist, but went straight to the elevator. The door opened, I stepped in. Inside, mirrors surrounded me where I could get a good look at my hot bodyβ my broad shoulders, tight ass in my jeans, and long legs.
I reached over and pressed the '2' button. Just as the door was about to close, a hand came in, and opened the door back up.
An older man entered, who just looked at me and smiled. "Hope you're having a good day." He gazed at me up and down.
"Yes, sir," I replied, my body language submissive.
He made small talk in the confined space. "Where are you visiting from?" he asked.
"Oh, I'm from here, just visiting a friend."
"I see. That's very nice of you to visit your friend."
The elevator stopped at the second floor. I exited first, and he followed behind me.
To the left, an arrow pointed to rooms 200-230, and the other side 230-260. I went left towards 217; the guy followed, holding his key in his hand.
"Not following you, just I'm in 219," he said, shrugging off the coincidence.
I laughed nervously. "No worries, man! All good." I turned my head forward and continued down the hall.
210, 211, 212, 216, 217.
I approached the door and knocked. The guy following me, looked at me in a peculiar way.
"Just visiting a friend," I said, smiling at him.
He smiled without saying a thing, unlocked his room door, and entered inside.
217 slowly opened up. There was a man standing there in the darkness without a shirt on, his fat belly hanging out. I couldn't tell his age because the curtains were shut and my eyes were still adjusting to the darkness. He stood there, way older than what his ad's stats said.