Brook

Brook copyright 1998

I've been travelling to San Diego on business for the past few weeks; flying in Monday morning and flying back to Portland Friday night. I've been staying in the same hotel every week, so I had the routine down pat. I knew most of the desk clerks, the help in the hotel restaurant; hell, I even know many of the maids' names.

The first time I checked in, I was helped by a guy named Brook. From then on, I went out of my way to try to get him to check me in. I'd even walk slowly from the hotel door to the front desk, to allow another guest to get in front of me and waited on by the other clerk on duty.

Brook looked, well, collegiate. I guess anyone who was maybe 25, clean-cut, no facial hair, wearing a conservative suit, white shirt, and tie-- the hotel's "uniform"-- would look collegiate. But Brook also had a nice smile, dark hair, and gorgeous, dark bedroom eyes. I also liked the way his suit jacket narrowed to an impossibly-narrow waist.

I occasionally needed help from the front desk, and tried to make sure it was Brook who helped me. Things like where to get a good pizza (Brook's recommendation WAS great), where the nearest drug store was, how to get to some address. I was tempted to ask Brook where the nearest gay bar was; I wasn't sure he'd know, and didn't want to embarrass him if he DID know.

I also chatted with Brook when I was going out or coming back into the hotel. I soon learned he was single, lived with his parents, wasn't seeing anyone, and got off at 11:00 PM. I also learned that he was an avid hockey fan, like I am. He liked the Ducks-- he'd grown up near Anaheim; I liked the Penguins-- I'd lived and worked in Pittsburgh for a few years before moving to Portland when I changed jobs. It seemed like the perfect setup to me-- if I was in town when the two teams were playing, and Brook was working, and the game was being televised at the right time.

Finally I checked the schedule and found a hockey game being televised starting around 10:00. Perfect; I could invite Brook up to my room to watch the last half of the game, and get into his pants ...

The night before, I chatted Brook up, to make sure he was working the night of the game, and that he had no plans for after work-- I knew he usually didn't. I invited him to watch the game, and told him I'd buy the beer. I'm on an expense account, so it'd be easy to cover the cost of a couple of six packs.

On the night of the game, Brook saw me going into the hotel elevator carrying the beer. He called out that he'd be up later to see the Ducks whip the Penguins. Between that time and 11:00, when Brook got off work and would be coming up to my room, I went to the hotel gym to work out. My energy level was high, so I had a good workout. I got back to the room close to 11:00, too late to take a shower before Brook arrived, so I stayed in my gym shorts and somewhat sweaty shirt.

I got myself a beer from the room refrigerator, and turned on the game. The first half was nearly over. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door, and I opened it to find Brook standing there, with a covered tray in his hand. "Room service," he said, grinning. He added, "I got the chef to make us some munchies for the game."

Brook brought the tray in, and set it down on the table in front of the couch. He uncovered a plate of nachos, some potato skins, and bowls of salsa and chips. Brook asked me about the game, and I gave him a summary of a rather uneventful game. As he sat down, I told him, "Take off your jacket and tie; make yourself comfortable."

Brook stood up and took off his jacket and laid it down neatly on a chair. He then took off his tie, undid the top buttons of his shirt, and sat down on the couch to watch the game. When he started undoing the buttons of his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, I nearly swooned-- I'm not sure why I find a guy with rolled-up sleeves so sexy, but I do. I noticed, with passing interest, that his arms were not very hairy, despite his dark hair and almost Mediterranean complexion.

As Brook was sitting down I asked if he wanted a beer. He said, "Sure," so I got one for him from the refrigerator. As he was drinking the can, and nibbling on the nachos, he told me, "I skipped dinner." In the meantime, I drank my own beer and watched the game.

The game reached a lull, so I told Brook, "I'm hot and sweaty, and I probably smell. I want to take a quick shower. Do you mind?" Brook said he didn't so I left the living area and went into the bedroom. On my way out the door, I called back over my shoulder, "Take off your shoes and get comfortable!" Then, as I was taking off my workout stuff, I called out to Brook, "Tell me what's going on. And have some more beer if you want."

As I was naked, and starting for the bathroom which lead off the both the bedroom and living area, I heard shouting from the television. I stuck my head around the door, so just my chest was showing, and asked Brook what had happened. Brook gave me a rundown of the excitement- a near-goal, a bad call by the ref, and the fight which followed. I could feel Brook's eye's on my chest, and particularly on the tit rings which glinted in the light.

I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As I was stepping in, I heard Brook push open the door from the living area, which I had left ajar in case Brook cared to join me. "Pardon me," he said, as I disappeared behind the shower curtain, giving Brook a good view of my cute ass (so I'd been told). "I need to get rid of the beer," Brook continued. "You know what they say," I called out, "You never buy beer, you only rent it." I could hear Brook chuckle as I watched his shadow from the other side of the curtain. I even saw the motion as he shook himself, then carefully zipped up. "Feel free to rent some more beer," I called out as I saw him leave the bathroom.

I came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, and another on my head with which I was drying my hair. One thing I'll say about the hotel; they sure have large towels. And they were fluffy, too, not the small squares of cheap cotton you find in a Motel 6!

On the way to the couch I hung the towel I'd been drying my hair with over the back of a chair, and got myself a beer from the refrigerator. I noticed that Brook had one in his hand, also. He didn't appear to be the least bit drunk, though. I even commented on it; he replied, "Hell, it takes a lot more than three beers to get me drunk. I had lots of practice in college!" As I sat down next to Brook on the couch, not too close, but within reaching distance.

I watched the game for a minute or so, then turned to face Brook. I asked him what I had missed. Brooked turned to face me and tell me. As he talked, I could tell his eyes were staring at my tit rings, like they were magical or something (well, to me they're magical!) In fact, Brook seemed to be getting tongue-tied as he looked at them.

I said to him, in a puzzled tone of voice, "What's up?"

Brook replied, "Are those, uh, rings through your, um, tits?"

I picked one of my rings up, and said, "Yes. Haven't you ever heard of tit rings before?"

"No," he said. "Do they, uh, go all the way through?"

"Yes," I said, turning the ring to show him. My rings are real rings, almost seamless, not the kind with balls on the end, so I can turn them continuously. I moved closer and said, "Here, see for yourself."

Brook gulped-- it looked like-- then reached a tentative hand forward. He touched my tit ring like he thought it'd be hot. Finding that it wasn't, he turned it, first one way, then the other, satisfying himself that it did, indeed, "go all the way through." "But why?" he asked. Incidentally, he hadn't let go of the ring.

"It, um arouses me," I said, not wanting to use the cruder "turns me on." I didn't want to turn Brook off, at the thought that he was playing around with another guy's tit. "Especially when it's twisted or tugged."

Brook got the message, though; I saw him glance down at my crotch, which was starting to show a slight bulge. But still he didn't let go. And since he was some distance from me, he was, in effect, tugging on the ring.

"Haven't you ever had anyone play with your tits?" I asked, knowing full well the answer would be, "No."

It was, so I said, "Here, let me show you what it's like. Tell me how it feels."

I moved slightly closer to Brook, and started playing with one of his tits through his shirt. I could feel it stiffen through the starched material. I decided to go for broke, so I reached for his top shirt button and started undoing it. "The shirt is too thick to get the full sensation; take it off," I told him.

Brook started unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom as I undid the top couple of buttons. He stood up to take off his shirt. As he did I noticed that his pants were tenting out in front. Brook neatly laid the shirt down on the couch, then sat down, somewhat closer to me than when he had stood up.

I was right, his chest wasn't very hairy. It was a nice chest, though, not built like he lifted weights, but sleek like he ran or played tennis a lot. And it did slim nicely to maybe a 27" or 28" waist, with just a treasure trail of black hair leading downward from his navel to his belt.

I reached for his tits, and started playing with them. They perked right up. I took one between my thumb and index finger nails, and tweaked it gently. Brook sucked in his breath, then shifted in his seat, like he was trying to get his hard-on into a comfortable position without touching it. I took pity on him; I turned away to pick up my beer. When I set it down and turned back to face him, I could see that he had "adjusted the furniture."

I started playing with one of his tits again. As I reached for the other, I stopped like I had just though of something. "Tell me how this feels," I said, and leaned forward to take the other tit in my mouth. I cupped my mouth around it, and flicked my tongue back and forth across the tip. Brook actually started panting! I felt his hand on my neck, but it didn't tug my head away, it sort of held it in place. I close my teeth on his tit, and bit lightly, and leaned back, tugging, then released it. I leaned forward and did it again. Once again Brook started breathing heavily.

After a minute or two of this, I stopped and sat up, looking at Brook. I continued playing with the one tit I'd been playing with all along. He looked back at me, trying to catch his breath. "I guess it arouses you, too?" I asked, glancing downward at his crotch.

"Uh, yes," he said, "I'm never felt anything like that."

I reached for Brook's hard-on, and starting run my fingers up and down it through the wool of his pants. He shifted his body, but did not tell me to stop. "Would you like me to take care of this?" I asked gently.

"I've never done anything like this before," he replied. Just to be sure I wasn't taking advantage o f him, I looked at him and again asked, "You're not drunk, are you?"

Brook said, "No, I feel fine. It's been over an hour and I've only had three beers. I'd even drive like this." He seemed to be reasonably sober, so I started undoing his belt. I then reached for the catch on his pants. Undoing it, I reached down and slowly unzipped them, feeling his hardness through his underwear.

"Stand up," I told him. Brook stood, and I slid his pants down his legs. He mechanically stepped out of them, then reached his hand out to take them from me. He folded them neatly, and set them down on his shirt, then stood there in his boxers. His cock pushed the silk out in front.

I took him by the hips, and turned him to face me where I sat on the couch. My own hard-on was barely concealed by the straining towel 'round my waist. I took hold of the waist of his underwear on both sides, and slowly slid them off. His cock, caught in the material, swung up and thwacked his belly.

What a pretty cock it was! Smallish, maybe 5" long, but nicely shaped, and cut. His balls was proportionately small, a nice mouthful, and covered with only a few sparse dark hair. I leaned forward and engulfed him. Sucking eagerly, I slowly slid off the couch to my knees, turning him so his back was to the couch. Without letting go, I reached up and pushed against his chest. As he sat down, I moved forward, not letting go of his delicious organ.

As I sucked, I cupped his balls with one hand, playing with them and rolling them in my hand. With the other hand I reached up and began playing with a tit. Brook sat there, in shock, in pleasure.

I stopped sucking, and let Brooks' cock slip from my mouth. Brook looked downward at me. I leaned forward, pushing Brook's cock out of the way with my nose, and slowly sucked his balls into my mouth. I ran my tongue lightly over them, as I let my hot breath warm and swirl around them. Brook started gasping, and moving his hips up and down, and I could tell he was close.

I stopped sucking on his balls, and once again took his cock into my mouth. No sooner did I run my tongue over the tip then he came. He thrust his hips forward again and again as he spurted. I drank his nectar down, and held him by the hips to steady him as he continued thrusting his cock down my throat. Finally he was spent, and laid back on the couch, trying to catch his breath.

I looked up at him, grinning, then stood up and sat down next to him. I didn't touch him, I wanted him to sort things out, figure out what or how he felt.

Finally his breath settled to almost normal. His only word was, "Wow!"

"I guess you liked that?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. It was, uh, wow!" he said, looking at me with eyes wide. Brook looked like he was trying to make up his mind. He suddenly reached forward, pulling on the end of my towel to unwrap it, and exposing my hard cock. He looked at it, then reached for it and encircled it with one hand. He gave it a few tentative tugs, then began jerking me off in earnest.

After a minute or so, he leaned forward, and pointed my cock at his mouth. He closed his eyes, like he was afraid, as his mouth neared the head of my cock.

Then he stopped, and opened his eyes. "I can't do it!" he wailed, and sat up. He kept his hand moving up and down on my cock, as he sat there, trying to figure out what was going on. Finally, he looked down at his hand, then his own cock, which had stiffened again, then let go of my cock. "I can't do it," he repeated, and started crying.

I took him in my arms, and held him against my chest as he cried. I wasn't sure whether to feel guilty, or cheated, or what, so I held him, rubbing his shoulders and neck as he sat there.

Finally he stopped crying, but continued sitting there with his head on my chest. "But you don't understand," he said. "I wanted to do it. I knew what you were up to. I saw you checking me out the first night you checked in. I jerked off that night, fantasizing about you inviting me up to your room. And then, when you suggested I come up to watch the game, I nearly came in my pants! I plotted how to get you to notice me. When you went into the shower, I took a leak, hoping you'd say something like, 'You must be hot after working all day; come in and join me!'" I continued stroking his shoulders and rubbing his back lightly, knowing he'd have to figure it out by himself.

"There's time," I told him. "I'll be here for the next few weeks. And if it's not me, there'll be some other guy who thinks you're as beautiful as I do." I turned to reach for a napkin. Brook turned to look at me as I carefully wiped the tears from his face. I also took the opportunity to run my fingers lightly down his chest, although I carefully avoided his still- stiff tits and again-stiff cock.

I leaned forward and gave Brook a light kiss on the lips. He looked at me, surprised, then slowly kissed me back. Just a light kiss, but it was enough. "Let's get you dressed," I said, standing up. I reached to help him up, and he staggered in my arms. The drinks, and the excitement of the night, had finally gotten to him.

"You're not in any shape to drive," I commented. "Is there some place you can stay in the hotel?"

"There's room 508," he said, grinning slyly.

"That's fine with me," I said, returning his grin. "I set my own hours, so I can go into work late."

As we got into bed and I went to turn off the light, Brook said, "We're forgetting something." I looked at him, puzzled. He got out of bed and moved to the door. He picked up the "Do Not Disturb" sign and went to open the door. "We need time to finish what I couldn't do tonight," he said, getting back under the covers. As I turned off the light, he leaned forward and kissed me. "Good night," he said. He then suddenly bent, sticking his head under the covers, groping for me. I felt a kiss on the head of my cock and a muffled, "And good night to you too!" as Brook unbent, turned onto his side, and snuggled close to me.