Sunday, July 29, 2007

Weekend of Sexual Indulgence, I

I got home after a quick bicep/tricep workout on Friday at about 1730. I was excited; my bag was packed for the weekend, along with two 20 packs of Magnums and two bottles of Gun Oil. As I didn't want to smell myself on the drive to Seattle, I took a quick shower, put on some shorts and a tank top and headed for I-5.

By the time I made it through traffic and got to the Hyatt it was already almost 1900. I called up Zane and, after several minutes of bickering, agreed on a place to eat. We couldn't agree on anything nice, he wanted El Gaucho and I wanted Crush, so we settled on something average. We finished dinner with some drinks at the Hyatt's in-house restaurant and, with a hug, parted ways for the evening. Zane was going to some house party up in Queen Anne, I was going several flights up for a weekend of fucking.

I got into the room, booted up my MacBook Pro and logged onto I had an additional 19 responses, all asking to fuck or replies to early enquiries I had made. Very promising.

Over the course of the week, starting on Monday, I had made a rough schedule of who and when I would be fucking. I had two guys penciled in for tonight: Jon, a tight little bottom living on Capitol Hill and Jason, who claimed to be a top who wanted to "try bottoming for the first time". Right. Who the fuck wants a nine inch cock as their first time? Fucking lying fags. He was hot though, so, what the fuck.

Jon was due to arrive at 2100. I messaged him on MH and let him know that I'd checked in, the room was ready, and to get his ass over as soon as he could. He laughed, said he could be there about 2045, a bit earlier than planned, and would text me when he was on his way.

Jason was the more iffy of the two. He had simply said "get ahold of me that night", a typical answer with homos when you try to plan things out past, I don't know, 2 hours. Jesus. So, I sent him a MH instant message and told him I was at the hotel and asked if he was going to be free about midnight. He sent me his phone number and asked me to give him a call. Ok. Sure, why not.

I entered his number, and he promptly answered. He had a pretty sexy voice- not too deep, not overly effeminate, just normal and with a slight accent that I couldn't place. He asked what I was up, and after all of 5 seconds of small talk, I asked my question regarding if he would be free later again. He said probably not, he was horny now and couldn't wait that long. Too fucking bad, I said, if you want my cock, wait. Otherwise, find a different top.

Hah. Always the trump card.

As there is a severe shortage of good looking, hung tops in the Seattle area, especially outgoing not-playing-typical-Seattle-coy-bullshit-games kind of guys, I was pretty much guaranteed to get what I wanted. I had him dead to sights, and he knew it. He sighed, with a slightly bitter tone to his voice, and replied that he could wait till midnight. He supposed. With a strong suggestion that I should be grateful. I laughed. "Great Jason, I'll give you a call around 11:30PM to double check. Ok?" He said ok, and without further ado, I clicked off the phone.

Too much talking. Made me thirsty. I pulled out a bottle of the Fat Tire beer that I had next to the bed in an ice chest, popped the top, and took a generous swig. I heaved myself up off the bed, stripped down, put the rubbers and lube on the night stand and got ready to have Jon come over.

Everything was set, the boys were confirmed and had their marching orders. Now, I just had to wait.

Fuck, I hated the being patient thing.


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