Finding Sam at Krispy Kreme

He stood outside the Krispy Kreme, looking in, pale and slender. I'd say, pale, slender and beautiful, but when I first saw him, his face was pressed up against the glass of the storefront and I was approaching from the parking lot.

An uncomfortable stirring began in my stomach, not for the coffee and doughnuts for sale in side, but for the touch of the young man standing between me and the doorway. I walked around him and entered. Mid-afternoon, mid-week, Krispy Kreme's devoted followers were at work, at school or at play. The lobby stood empty.

As I approached the counter, the friendly old black woman called out, "welcome to Krispy Kreme, darlin', can I take your order?"

"Well, thanks so much," I retorted, "I'm nearly falling asleep on my feet, so I'd love a large coffee, black." Then, after pausing for a mere moment, "and two regular glazed doughnuts."

"Give me a minute and I'll have a fresh brewed pot of coffee for you, sweetheart," the attendant replied.

I stood, actually, I leaned against the glass counter and waited.

In just a couple minutes, the friendly cashier was approaching with my large coffee and a small bag containing my two doughnuts. I noticed she glanced over to the window. Reminded by her glance that a cute angel had distracted me as I approached the store, I took the opportunity to turn and see if I could get a peek at his face.

OH.

MY.

GOD.

Peering still through the window, and apparently oblivious to the examination he was getting from customer and cashier, he really was BEAUTIFUL.

I turned back to the cashier. She said, "He's been looking in the window for 20 minutes, I think he's waiting for the fresh ones."

He's the fresh one, I thought to myself.

"I wonder if he just doesn't have the money for a snack," I suggested to her. With that, I pulled a five dollar bill from my wallet and asked her if she would give him whatever doughnuts or drinks he might want, and wave for him to come into the store after I walked out.

"That's so thoughtful of you," she beamed back at me, "I'll take good care of him."

Thanking her for her part in my little kindness conspiracy, I walked out and went to a picnic table in front of the Krispy Kreme.

Just after I sat down, I noticed that the young man pulled away from the store front window and walked into the doughnut shop. After watching him enter the store, I went back to my coffee and checked emails on my phone.

Distracted, I didn't realize that the handsome young man had left the store and was walking toward me until I heard him saying, "Hey man, thanks a lot for that!"

He was standing on the other side of the concrete picnic table, a cold drink and a Krispy Kreme bag in hand. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked.

My stomach was now in serious churn. You have to understand, this guy was intensely beautiful, and captivating, and now he was asking to sit with me. "Not at all," I croaked a reply.

"I'm Sam," he introduced himself, offering a hand to shake mine.

"Kyle," I replied, "nice to meet you!"

"Well, I hope you don't think I was, like, begging or something," he continued, "I've loved Krispy Kremes forever, and I just didn't have my wallet with me."

From the looks of him, there was no evidence on his frame of a serious doughnut addiction, he was very fine, and very slender, and very, well, fine.

"Nah, man, truth is, the cashier said you were probably waiting for the fresh doughnut run, so I just wanted to pay forward a kindness someone had done for me," I explained.

"Thanks, Kyle, I appreciate it."

"So Sam, is that short for Samuel, or, maybe Samson?"

He chortled a bit.

"Well, let's see," he added with a bit of a snide tone, "do I even look like I could be a Sampson?"

"Honestly?"

I set my coffee cup down and openly accepted what he may not have realized he had just offered me: an opportunity to openly examine his appearance.

"I think it's at least possible that you have the build of a young Samson, still lithe, but maybe sinewy muscles beginning to grow. Of course, I really haven't seen enough of you to know." I paused. "If I were going to pick a name for you, I suppose I would have chosen 'Addy.'"

"Addy?" he replied. "What the fuck kind of name is Addy?"

"It's a nickname," I answered him, "it's short for Adonis."

He blushed brightly. He knew, obviously, either mythology, or art, or when a guy was coming on to him.

"Do you really think I'm an Adonis?"

"Sam, you have no idea, do you, just how very handsome you are?"

"Kyle," he chuckled, "you must need glasses."

"Actually, I do," I explained, "but only for driving. When I am up close to a young god like you, there's no eye problem that keeps me from seeing just how handsome he is, or you are."

He blushed again.

"It's sweet of you to say that," he nearly whispered.

"Just speaking the truth, Sam," I answered him in a voice nearly as soft, "I hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable for me to say it."

No answer. Just quiet. He lifted his head and began to look straight into my eyes. I returned his piercing stare. It may have been just seconds, it felt like hours, I thought time had stopped. Then, unexpectedly, he nodded his head, and I knew he was giving me permission to go someplace that I wouldn't have dreamed.

"You know, Sam, I could have been wrong about thinking you were Samson, but there's really only one way to find out," nervous, I thought my voice must have cracked with each word. "I would need to see more of you."

"Well, that might be true, but that's not happening here," his answer almost a question.

"No, not here," I answered, "but if you want my honest opinion, we could go to the Brookside, just up the road."

"What's the Brookside," Sam replied.

"Well, candidly, it's a roadside motel, the kind of place that looks like the rooms might be rented by the hour."

Silence. More silence.

"I don't know," he paused, "you seem nice, and we both are probably looking for the same thing," again with his beautiful blushing, now at his admission of sexual interest, "but maybe you're actually a crazed serial killer or something."

"I might be," I answered him, "but, of course, you might be too. In fact, let's just forget the idea."

Silence.

More silence.

"You know what," Sam offered, "you just feel right to me ... I mean, you are nice, and it was kind of you to buy my drink and doughnuts."

I interrupted, "but I didn't but those so that I could get inside your pants"

Sam laughed, "Who said you are?"

I laughed too.

"I guess that was presumptuous."

"Maybe," he retorted, "maybe not."

"Well, I'll tell you what Sam, I'm going to get up and walk over to my car, if you follow me, cool, if you don't, I am glad I got to meet you."

I stood and walked toward my car.

Sam remained seated.

I unlocked my car and got in.

Sam was still seated.

I started the engine, slid into gear and began backing out of my parking spot.

Looking in my rearview mirror, I saw that Sam was gone from the picnic table. As I swung back and to the right, I understood what had happened to him, because he was just to the left and front of my car as I braked to a stop to put the car in drive. I know he saw my smile because I saw him break into one as well. He walked around to the passenger door and got in.

"You better hope I'm not another Jeffrey Dahmer," he teased. "Of all the serial killers you could have picked, why the cannibal?"

"Maybe you'll find out."

As it turns out, I did.

Our short trip to the Brookside Motel only took five minutes. In the parking lot of the motel, outside the office, I thought I'd put Sam at ease. I left him in my car, with the motor running. "Don't take off in the car, please," I said, smiling, as I went to rent a room.

Renting a room took only a couple minutes, and just fifty dollars. I returned to the car, still where I left it, with Sam in it, just moments before. "Well, at least we know I can trust you," I blurted out.

He smiled, as I pulled the car forward into a space near our room. Number 7. Hopefully, lucky number 7.

"Want to come in?" I nearly purred that.

"I'm following you, Kyle," Sam answered.

Once we were in the room, I shut the door and put the security chain in place. Meanwhile, Sam had walked over to the bedside desk, pulled a chair out, and took a seat. I flipped the light switch by the door and the bedside table lamp came on. The chair having been taken, the only place left to sit down was the bed, so there I sat.

"So," Sam asked, "why are we here?"

"I thought that we were going to figure out if you were built like a young Samson," I rejoined.

"How do we do that?"

I waited.

As I waited I began to study Sam from head to toe. I wasn't attempting a lascivious glare, but just openly, frankly looking at him.

"Well," I proposed, "I think I just need to see what's hidden by your shirt and ...."

"And?" Sam challenged me.

"You know," I answered.

"No, Kyle, I need you to tell me what it is you want." Oh God. He was bringing me to the fish-or-cut-bait moment. My stomach churned. My loins stirred. My heart thudded.

"Sam, I want to see you. Your whole body. Without clothes. I want to see you ... naked."

It was absolutely still in the room.

My eyes met his. We stared into each other. Into each other's souls. And it happened again. Sam nodded.

He nodded, and he stood. And as he stood, he pushed his shoes off of his feet. Fully upright, he looped his thumbs in his jeans, and began to wiggle out of them, with some difficulty because they were a skin tight fit. In fact, the jeans were so tight that as they slid down his hips, then his thighs and calves, his boxer briefs were dragged with them. My eyes, however were glued just below his belly button.

There, pointing virtually straight up, was his wonderfully well formed rigid cock. Not a guy for measuring things, I'd still guess that Sam was some 6 to 7 inches, all hard, hot and horned.

"Well," now he did the purring, "is it Sam, Samson, or Adonis?"

"That's not fair," I explained, "I need to see your chest to know for sure."

"Tell me what you want, Kyle," Sam quickly rejoined.

"Take you shirt off, Sam," I almost croaked the words, "I want you naked."

"Well, I'm willing to do it," he answered, "but it seems to me that it's a whole different level of unfairness for me to be naked and you to be fully dressed. Take your clothes off too, Kyle."

I stood and began undressing. I felt the burn of modest blushing as I stripped down, and I caught the movement of Sam's arms as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Honestly, I'm old enough to be this young man's father. And I have the build of a young man's older father. There was a body underneath my present condition, but it was years ago that other things became more important. Yet, as I removed my shirt, I thought I heard an audible gasp from Sam.

"Let me get a closer look at your chest and arms," I asked.

Sam stepped toward me and I toward him. We closed the difference easily, gently, not with an evident hunger that later would prove itself. Sam stood in front of me, and I felt my chest clutch.

"Oh god, Sam! You are so incredibly beautiful." He blushed again, and then his breath caught when he realized that I was sliding down to my knees in front of him. I couldn't help myself. I wanted him in my mouth and I wanted him there now.

I took his manhood in my hand. I kissed its head, a gentle, loving kiss. Then, I licked circles around the tip of it, moistening the head.

I looked up, flagrant lust now firing across my face. Again, Sam nodded. I with his approval, I launched myself down on him, taking his cock all the way to the hilt, and felt his cockhead against the back of my throat.

Now I moaned the moan of completion. I was as sated sexually as ever I had been. His cock was a perfect fit to my mouth and I loved its smooth textures on my tongue and lips. Fuck this was incredible. I began to bob up and down on him, sliding all the way out, then trapping his dick against the roof of my mouth and my tongue beneath his cock. I sucked in to create a vacuum, and I moaned a deep throated moan that I have been told intensified the pleasure of being sucked.

Sam must have felt something, something that made him weak in the knees, because he turned slightly and tumbled onto the edge of the bed, with my face still impaled on his cock. I followed his movements over so that I could keep his dick in my mouth and throat. So now I found myself between his thighs, licking and sucking his cock.

"WAIT!" Sam cried out. "It's too intense and I don't want to cum yet."

I pulled off his cock, but began licking his balls. He grabbed my ears and pulled me, gently but insistently, up onto the bed, guiding me until I was laying next to him. "Let me show you something," he teased.

Then he leaned over and began licking and sucking my cock. FUCK FUCK FUCK, he looked so hot going down on me. I turned and kissed his hip. And I kissed him again. He scrambled up, and soon was on top of me and we were in a classic 69 position. I began sucking him again. Now the room began filling with the sound of a chorus of moans and pleasured cries.

We exchanged oral for several minutes, licking up and down each other's cock, deep-throating, licking balls. God it was so intense, and so fine.

"Sam."

"Yes, Kyle."

"I want to feel you inside of me, please. Please fuck me."

When I spoke those words, his cock throbbed. I knew he was pleased to be asked, to be begged.

"Okay, Kyle."

As soon as he spoke those words, I moved. I rolled over onto my chest and got up into a doggie position. Essentially, like any good bitch, I was presenting my ass to Sam. "Fuck me, Sam, PLEASE."

He moved behind me, on his knees, and using his knees between my calves to spread my legs apart. I throbbed at the touch of him behind me. I felt something hot and wet run down between my cheeks and realized he had let some spit fall between my cheeks to serve as some lubricant. He leaned in against me. I felt him, pressed into my crack. His cock, fully hard, laying within my cheeks. And he began a slow, rhythmic humping motion.

Oh fuck. Oh God. He teased me and teased me. Perhaps working his dick up until more precum spilled from his cockhead. If so, he soon grabbed his rod, pulled it straight downward and began stabbing at my hole. Then, his cock caught a bit of purchase in the ring of my anus and he paused.

"Mmmmmmmmmm, oh God, Sam, fuck me please."

"I just want to go easy, so I don't hurt you, Kyle."

"It's okay," I replied, "I want this more than anything I've ever wanted."

"Alright, then," he answered. And with that, Sam lunged his hips and his manhood against me, I felt a blinding flash of pain and his penis was inside me.

"God, oh God, oh God," I muttered in a delirium of sexual responsiveness. I began contracting my anal muscles to squeeze down on Sam. He began thrusting against me as I quivered in pleasure.

"Sam, fuck it feels so right, so good, soooo ...," I trailed off from intelligible words to a moan of constant pleasure. He had found the cords to my soul and was plucking them with his prick.

All the stimulus of our oral play obviously had him in a state as well. His breathing quickened. He clutched my hips and began power fucking me, without caution or care. My cock was leaking constantly with a flood of precum from the prostate stimulation he gave me.

Suddenly, Sam seized up. It was as if every muscle in his body were contracted into a sensuous full on display of power. His breathing caught. He swore, "sweet fucking god," and lunged into me. His cock now throbbing and pulsing as he came and came and came. He collapsed over my back, his dick still throbbing inside me.

With Sam laying over my back, I lowered myself down till I was laying on my chest and stomach, and he was laying on my back. Beads of sweat dropped from his face and neck onto my back. He purred a soft, pleasured purr of satisfaction and ground his hips against me again. And then we slept.