The Harrington Hotel

It happened again last night.

I was sitting at the bar minding my own business at the Harrington Hotel, the one near the airport, enjoying an after work glass of draft beer when a middle-aged man sat next me.

There were plenty of open bar stools so he'd made a conscious decision to sit directly beside me. I didn't mind. One of the the reasons I come to the Harrington is to meet interesting businessmen from all across the country.

The man waited maybe three-seconds before he turned to me and asked, "What's it take to get a drink in this place?"

I smiled at him, waved my hand at the bartender getting his attention and said, "Paul, this gentleman would like a drink."

The man ordered a brandy old-fashioned and told Paul, "Get my little friend here whatever he wants, too."

"Oh, that's very nice of you, sir, thank you," I said with a smile then told Paul: "I'll have what he's having."

The man appeared pleased I ordered the same drink.

When Paul returned with our drinks I smiled at the man and thanked him again. We clinked our glasses together.

He took a very healthy swallow then stuck out his hand and said, "I'm Daniel."

"I'm John," I said and shook his hand.

He smiled back at me and asked, "Are you sure you're old enough to be in here, son?"

"I'm not jail-bait if that's what you mean," I said with a wide grin.

He laughed. The ice was broken so he felt comfortable talking with me.

I learned 'Daniel' was from St. Louis and in town for a business meeting the next morning. He loved his job but hated all the traveling he had to do for his company.

"I'm not as young as I used to be...hopping from city-to-city isn't exciting anymore," he explained. "In the old days I partied every night on the road...I'm afraid all I want to do now is have a drink and go to bed before ten o'clock."

"There is nothing wrong with that, people mature as they get older," I said to him.

"I guess you're right," he sighed, "but these trips have become so boring...I was in this lounge years ago and it was packed with businesspeople drinking and laughing...look at this place now -- it's so quiet in here you can hear the ice melt in peoples drinks!"

I laughed and said, "That's a funny line!"

Daniel drained his glass in three large swallows. I did the same.

Paul came to us and Daniel said, "Two more, my good man!"

"It is kind of quiet in here," I said.

"You have to be careful these days -- everyone is paranoid -- companies have 'zero-tolerance' policies and if word of your behavior gets back to corporate, well, you can kiss your ass goodbye...son, I can guarantee there are a lot of interesting things going on in the rooms here right now!" he said giving me a sly smile.

"Oh my...." I softly replied.

"That's a very nice suit you're wearing, John, you must be doing quite well for yourself," he said looking me over. "So how long have you been on the road?"

I chuckled and answered, "Oh no, no, I'm not a businessman - I'm from around here...I don't live very far away...I work at a men's clothing store at the mall."

"Ohhhhh, yeah, that makes sense...I thought you were a little young to be on a business trip," he said. "That's right, that huge mall is around here somewhere...it's the biggest one in the country, right?"

"Yes, I think it is," I replied.

He nodded his head as he took the last swallow of his second drink. I did the same.

"Hey barkeep, another round for me and Johnny-boy here," he called out to Paul.

Daniel asked, "So why do you come to this bar after work? Hotel bars are not exactly places for young people to have fun, and they're expensive. Aren't there any bars around here for young people?"

He then added with a wink: "I'd think a good-looking boy like you could go home with a different girl every night!"

I sheepishly grinned and said, "Yeah, there's a couple of popular places nearby...but they're so loud it's hard to have a conversation with anyone...besides, I like this place...I meet a lot of interesting businessmen here."

He seemed to like my answer. He looked at me and smiled. He guzzled his drink so fast I could tell alcohol was not new to him. He bought us another round.

I don't like talking about myself as much as some people do so I changed the topic of conversation back to him.

He opened up to me about his wife and four kids. The two sons and two daughters were all adults living away from home. He had three grandchildren with another on the way.

I gave him my full, undivided attention.

When his anecdotes were remotely amusing, I smiled and laughed.

When he complained about having to postpone retirement so he could put his kids through college I solemnly said, "Daniel, good fathers make sacrifices for their children."

Like so many older men trying to get through their later years the best they can, he began to wax nostalgic about the past.

"I thought once the kids were out of the house and Hildy and I were alone again things would go back like they were in the beginning..." he said.

I instinctively knew where this story was going. I'd heard variations of it from quite a few men.

"...but you know what, Johnny, you CAN'T go back -- we're not the same people we were twenty-five years ago...it's a crying shame men still have, you know, needs...but women seem to be able to get beyond that...."

"I don't mean to get personal, Daniel, but in all your years of traveling and being alone in hotels, did you ever, uh, 'meet' other women?" I asked sincerely.

He suddenly averted his eyes from mine and softly said, "I'm not proud of it, Johnny...but you know, one thing led to another, and well...."

I placed my hand just above his knee and said, "Daniel, that is nothing to be ashamed of."

His body flinched at the touch of my hand, and when I gave his leg a gentle squeeze he nervously lifted his glass and gulped down the remaining alcohol.

He eyes suddenly stared into mine. He cleared his throat.

I'd seen that look before. Instead of removing my hand, I boldly began moving it back and forth over his thigh. He flushed a bright red and cleared his throat again.

"Son," he said in his deepest baritone, "I am not queer."

I smiled and replied, "You don't have to be."

I moved my hand on his inner thigh close to his crotch without actually touching it and gave it a firm squeeze. He nearly leaped off the bar stool.

I leaned in and whispered, "What happens at the Harrington Hotel STAYS at the Harrington Hotel."

The curious expression on his face told me he was seriously considering his options.

He suddenly leaned in close to me and whispered, "I've got a bottle of twenty-one-year-old Scotch in my room...."

I smiled sweetly at him, gave his thigh another squeeze and said, "I DO like Scotch. What's your room number?"

"Uhhhh...." he couldn't think of it right away. "OH, uh, 1187."

With my hand still close to his crotch, I gave him an impish grin and asked , "Should I wait here five-minutes before I come to your room?"

The puzzled expression on his face told me he was new at this game.

"Noooo, you can come with me now!" he exclaimed.

He was probably afraid if he let me out of his sight I wouldn't go to his room.

Before I removed my hand from his thigh, I 'accidentally' brushed the bulge in his slacks.

Ooooooo, nice erection, I thought.

He almost jumped off the bar stool from my touch.

"BARKEEP!" he blurted out.

Paul looked at me and I made the universal sign for 'Check, please'.

I watched Daniel fill out the room charge slip and made a suggestion.

"Around here, we usually tip the bartender 25 or 30 percent."

"Oh, yeah, sure..." he quickly said and filled in a healthy tip for Paul.

Daniel was slightly unsteady when he climbed off the bar stool but didn't fall down.

I waved good-bye to Paul and walked alongside Daniel as we left the lounge.

In the huge main lobby, Daniel looked at the hallway to the left then to the right. He turned to walk to the left.

"No, that's the wrong way," I said to him. "1187 is down the other hallway over there."

"Oh, yes, of course," he replied.

***

Daniel's purposeful stride slowed the closer we came to room 1187. I could tell he was having second thoughts about inviting me to his room.

Two doors away he stopped altogether and said staring straight ahead, "John, no offense to you but I don't know if this is a good idea."

I said to him: "Daniel, it's entirely up to you. I don't have any ulterior motives -- I am not some kind of hustler or thief. I've had a good time with you tonight and would like it to simply last a little while longer."

I stood close to him, placed my hand on his back and softly added, "If you want me to I'll leave right now...you can go into your room, drink alone, and wonder what you missed out on tonight...I'll go home, drink alone, and think about the kind and generous man from St. Louis I met tonight..."

He paused then looked me directly in the eyes. His own eyes seemed to have cleared. A small smile curled the corners of his mouth.

"Have you ever had twenty-one-year-old Scotch before?" he asked me.

"No I haven't," I said. "I wonder if we have the same birthday?"

Daniel's laughter warmed my heart.

***

He used his key card and opened the door.

"After you, young man," he said holding the door open for me.

The room was quite warm and when he followed me inside he exclaimed, "Damn, I forgot to turn on the air conditioner."

"That's okay," I said. "Do you mind if I take off my coat and tie?"

"No, no, by all means get comfortable," he said as he went to adjust the thermostat.

I removed my tie, folded it neatly and slid into the inside suit coat pocket then took off the coat and hung it on the door knob.

Daniel went about switching on so many lights I had to squint until I became accustomed to the brightness.

The harsh glow of the bright lights served as a stark reminder to Daniel that he was alone in a hotel room with a guy, and I could tell he again became unsure of his decision.

I smiled and said to him, "I don't look very good in bright light -- that's why I hang out in dimly lit bars."

I proceeded to switch off the harshest of the lighting until only the bathroom light was on and we could see each other mainly in silhouette.

He nervously cleared his throat and said, "I drink my Scotch neat -- do you want ice with yours?"

"No, neat will be fine," I said as I looked around the room..

It always amazes me how much money these airport hotels charge for basically standard rooms.

While he poured us drinks, I sat on the loveseat across from the big bed. I decided to take off my shoes and socks.

When he brought the drinks and saw what I was doing, I said, "I hope you don't mind, these are new shoes and they're killing my feet!"

"No, no, that's fine...I have trouble breaking in shoes, too," he replied.

He gave me the drink and remained standing.

One of the good things about the expensive airport hotels is they offer real glasses and not plastic cups.

"To a fun night," I said and we clinked our glasses together and I took a small sip of the Scotch.

"Ohhh, that's good!" I said to him. "Daniel, c'mon, sit next to me."

He cleared his throat again and sat close beside me on the loveseat meant for two people.

The lighting was enough that when we were close, we could see each others faces.

He drained his drink in three swallows and was about to stand when I leaped up and said, "I'll bring the bottle over here."

I filled his glass almost to the top and set the bottle on the small table beside the loveseat.

"Johnny," he said, "I don't mean to get personal---"

"You can ask me anything you want, Daniel, I don't mind at all," I reassured him.

"Well, I was wondering...when did you know you were, uh, gay?" he asked.

"Oh, that's an easy one: when I was a sophomore in high school gym class, the captain of the football team, Billy Joe Myers was our teachers assistant...and on the very first day of school, when we took showers after class, there was Billy Joe standing naked from me four-feet away...oh my hell...I had to turn my back on him so he wouldn't see my hard-on...that was the first time I felt 'physical attraction' for a guy."

I forced a laugh and at the same time placed my hand on Daniels thigh. He flinched but didn't say anything.

"I guess I kind of always felt different than the boys who were my friends...I mean, their conversations consisted of sports, cars and what they wanted to do sexually with the pretty girls in our class and their talk didn't interest me in the least...."

I held my empty glass up so Daniel could see. When he leaned for the bottle I slid my hand further up his thigh. He cleared his throat again but said nothing.

"I didn't have a single thing in common with my friends, but I never suspected there was anything wrong with me...of course, I could never reveal my true feelings to them...I laughed at the appropriate times; I wholeheartedly agreed with them on matters I didn't give a rats-ass about; I even chimed in and bragged what I wanted to do with girls..."

"It sounds as though you didn't have much fun growing up," said Daniel.

His comment made me admit to something I had worked so hard to forget.

"No..." I softly said, "there weren't too many fun times...I was lonely most of the time...very lonely..."

Daniel placed his arm around my shoulder and gently hugged me to his side. I moved my hand lightly back and forth over his thigh.

I continued: "I guess the real clincher came the beginning of my senior year...I'd never asked a girl out on a real date, and I began to suspect my friend's were talking about me behind my back...so I asked Mary McDonald on a date. We sat next to each other in a class and got along very well...she also had the biggest boobs of any girl in our grade and was the subject of many of my friend's conversations...I was nervous as heck when I picked her up, but she had always been nice to me...anyway, after a movie, she suggested we go to Post Road -- that's next to the airport and a place where kids go to park and well, you know...."

"Yeah," he chuckled, "we had a spot like that in St. Louis, too."

I continued: "I was very shy. I had never done anything with a girl before...I went out with girls on harmless little dates, but nothing more...well, it was embarrassing...she initiated the first kiss and when I didn't do it right she asked me if I'd ever done anything like this with a girl and when I said "No" she said "Sweetie, I'm going to teach you everything you'll ever need to know to make a girl happy!"

"Actually, John, I used to like aggressive girls," commented Daniel.

"Well, I thought I would too...and the kissing was great -- I admit she made me the good kisser I am today, but, uh..."

"But what?" he asked.

"When she grew tired of only kissing, she took my hand and put it on her boob and showed me how to touch her," I said.

"Wow, I like this girl," he said.

"I know...I should have too...but, well...anyway, she opened her own blouse and even unclasped her bra...now I had two handfuls and again she had to tell me how to play with them," I said.

I moved my hand higher on Daniels thigh and very lightly ran my palm over his crotch.

I was thrilled - his erection was threatening to burst thru his slacks. I didn't directly touch it yet though. I wanted to get him as excited as I could so he wouldn't care it was a guy opening his pants instead of a woman.

"She began rubbing my thighs and would occasionally put her hand on my crotch to see if I was hard -- I wasn't -- and after awhile, I heard her groan and say to herself -- "to hell with it" - and she opened her jeans and slid them and her underwear down her legs..."

"My God, I wish I'd met a girl like that in high school!" he said.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure most guys do...anyway, she took my hand and put it directly on the wetness between her legs and said "Bring me off with your hand!" and she proceeded to teach me just how to do that...all the while her own hand did everything it could to make my dick hard...but I couldn't get a boner -- it was frustrating -- and embarrassing."

"To make a long story short, once she climaxed, she fastened her clothing in place, kissed me on the cheek, and said, 'I won't tell anyone you're gay, sweetie -- it'll be our little secret, okay?'"

"'What are you talking about? I'm not gay!' I vehemently protested."

"With a laugh of derision she chided me, 'Johnny, every boy I've been with gets so hot and horny touching me they usually cum in their pants before I can get their dicks out...you can't even get a hard-on!'"

"That really hurt. I meant to tell her she was wrong -- that I love everything about girls and their shapely curves and soft, supple bodies, but at that precise moment in time, I knew it would have been a big, fat lie."

"My failure to get a hard-on with Mary, in spite of all her efforts, only served to prove to myself what I had suspected since the day I sprung a boner looking at Billy Joe Myers naked in the shower -- I was physically attracted to guys - not girls."

"So, uh, you think some guys are just born that way, huh?" he asked with uncertainty.

"Daniel, trust me, no guy would intentionally go thru the shame and harassment that a lot of gay men have to suffer thru every day," I said to him. "I didn't choose to like men more than women...it is what it is...."

***

I had allowed the situation to get out of hand, so to speak. There was no longer a bulge in his slacks.

My desire is to get into men's pants, not their heads. I never want my men to think too much -- my goal is to redirect the flow of blood from their brains to their dicks -- not the other way around.

"'I absolutely loved my first time with a man,' I said. 'No, no I'm sorry, I'm sure you don't want to hear about that.'"

"Oh I do," he said eagerly. "I, uh, mean, I've wondered how a guy gets started doing what you do."

I smiled to myself in the semi-darkness. Maybe there was still a chance to give this nice man the pleasure I knew he desperately needed.

Men have asked me to tell them about my first time. I try to tell them a story I think they want to hear.

"The summer after graduation I got a job over here at the mall. I was hired as a stockboy in the men's clothing department."

"Anyway, my boss was an older guy, a no-nonsense kind of man, a man who I felt so intimidated by I wanted to quit after the first day."

"He spent a lot of time with me -- one-on-one - him teaching me my duties and me learning as much as I could. But you know what? By the fourth day I knew pretty much everything I needed to know about how to do my job and he suddenly became the nicest man I'd ever met!"

"He began treating me with respect, and even opened up to me. He was the smartest man I'd ever met and had a wonderful sense of humor."

"He was around your age, Daniel. Same height and build, but not in as good a shape as you are -- I began looking at him differently. At night in bed, I even began to fantasize about him."

I started over on Daniels thighs, brushing my fingertips lightly back and forth.

"His name was Donald, and I have to admit, he was my first adult crush."

"Yes, he was my boss, but he treated me differently from his salesmen. He enjoyed joking around with me, and I must say, when he wasn't in the department, I missed him."

I began massaging Daniels thighs with the palm of my hand. I 'accidentally' brushed the back of my hand over his crotch. YES, we have lift-off!

"Donald worked days and I worked swing shift. We only saw each other a few hours every day, but I was so happy when we were together I began wondering what was wrong with me."

I now not only massaged Daniel's thighs, but moved my hand ever-so-lightly higher to graze over the manly bulge in his slacks.