Hey guys, I've gotten so many e-mails expressing disappointment about this thread coming to an end, I've been moved to give you one more story. I just finished it today, and it is in honor of John, a fan of my writing from a great, not to mention, BIG, Southern state. Hope you all can enjoy John's hot story without getting pissed off.
Encore
I found myself alone for thanksgiving in Los Angeles. My company had sent me on an important errand for them, to try to buy a piece of property they wanted to build a branch office. I've always been an fan of the big Art Deco ocean liners, and when I discovered the Queen Mary was permanently docked in Long Beach, I checked into it a little deeper, and discovered it had been turned into a hotel. I couldn't resist. I made the reservation, and got driving instructions from LAX, and looked forward to my sojourn in LaLa land in the luxury of an Art Deco treasure.
My room, when I arrived, was more than I expected, and I was pleased to note the portholes in my room faced water instead of land, and the illusion of being at sea on the beautiful Queen, was complete. I was informed by the concierge, that the Thanksgiving Buffet was outstanding, and for a moderate fee, I could stuff myself on great foods from around the world. They were booked solid, but if I wished, they would seat me with other singles who had booked for the same time period. I thought it might be fun to have Thanksgiving with total strangers and possibly give me the opportunity to meet some interesting people.
When I dressed for the Grand Ballroom, I went over the top a little, and wore my double breasted tweed, and stuffed a yellow silk hanky in my breast pocket. I sauntered down the hall to be seated, feeling like Gatsby himself. I was seated at a white clothed table set with good crystal, silver, and china. None of the other singles had arrived yet, but the waiter, immediately poured a flute of decent Champagne, and explained the various piers of the buffet around the room. There was traditional American, Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Jewish, and Italian. Near the back of the room, was a pastry pier, with piles of delectable sweets. I took my flute in hand, and strolled through the throng of people exploring the various offerings.
I selected some gravlax, and a few leaves of Belgian endive with a dab of cream fresh, and a dollop of caviar. By the time I made my way back my assigned table, I saw a young man somewhat younger than my 30 years, had been seated. I put my flute down, and set my plate of food in my place, and introduced myself. His name was Aaron, and he had the soft olive skin that might have been middle eastern. His blond good looks and blue eyes were attention getters par excellant. We shook hands, and I sat down. I noticed his eyes darting looks at my yellow hanky, as he sipped his own champaign. Conversation was strained for a while, and I ate my tidbits making comments on their quality.
Aaron appeared to be waiting for someone to arrive, and I asked him about it finally because he was being fidgety, and hadn't selected anything to eat yet.
"I had a date. We were supposed to meet here."
"Well, I said, women can often take longer to get somewhere than they planned. I'm sure she'll be along in time."
"Oh," he said. "It's not..." He blushed a little, and grabbed his Champagne and took a swallow, a look, almost of panic passed over his face.
"Not what?" He'd piqued my curiosity.
"It's a guy I met at a club. He lives alone like me. and we made this date so we wouldn't have to do Thanksgiving alone."
"I see." Maybe Aarons distress would work to my advantage. "Well, why don't you let me find a nosh or something for you while you're waiting? If he shows up, he'll see you waiting patiently for his arrival." He smiled at me, and nodded that he'd like to have something.
"Anything in particular? If they don't have it, I probably can order it and have it charged to my room."
"Your room?" His eyes couldn't leave my yellow hanky alone.
"I'm staying here in the hotel section of the ship. Perhaps you'd care to see it after we eat."
"I'd like that. It's a neat boat."
"So what would you like to eat?"
"Do they have Sushi here?"
"Indeed they do. Sushi it is." I lifted my champaign flute, and strolled off to the Japanese pier. I gathered a plate of bite sized raw fish and rice, and put a pile of pickled ginger on the edge, and a healthy dollop of Wasabi on the side, and headed back toward the table, dreading seeing that his friend had arrived. Pleasantly, when I saw him through the crowd, he was sipping his Champagne, totally alone.
I slipped the plate under his arm and and patted him on the shoulder. "Still alone I see."
"I don't think he's coming."
"Well then, you can be my date." I chuckled at him, and he smiled. His eyes danced over my face for a moment, then dropped to my yellow hanky again. I looked down at the silk cloth drooping brightly in my pocket, and then back at him. "Does my hanky bother you?"
"Oh no. Yellow is my favorite color." I raised my eyebrows, and smiled.
"Mine too." The waiter appeared and refilled our glasses with Champagne, and we picked them up at the same time and I proposed a toast. "To yellow. The most beautiful of colors."
"To yellow," he echoed, and we drained the flutes. It only took a moment before a passing waiter had refilled the flutes. Aaron ate his Sushi, and he relaxed a little more, and started telling me about his no show date.
"I don't really know him well. We met at a dance club in Hollywood last weekend. We talked on the phone a couple of times this week, and he suggested we come to the Queen Mary for Thanksgiving. I had to take the Blue Line down here, and get a shuttle bus, because I don't have a car. He's coming, or was coming from Orange county in his car."
"Where do you live?"
"In Hollywood. I have a tiny cubbyhole of an apartment that I pay too much for. I've only been here for a few weeks. Looking for my big break. I've done some modeling back home, but I can't get my foot in the door here yet. I've been looking for any work I can find before I run out of money." This gushed out in a stream of language accented with Sushi and ginger.
"Where's home?"
"Texas, down along the gulf coast."
"Beautiful country down around Padre Island."
"Yeah. It is." He was a little wistful when he said this.
"Homesick?"
"A little. People here are so hard to get to know. They are all so busy."
"I know the feeling. I'm not from here either. I'm on business for my company out of Des Moines, Iowa. I'm trying to close a real estate deal for a branch office here."
He drained his glass again, and motioned to a passing waiter with his glass held high. As the waiter filled our flutes again, I asked him to have two bottles on ice sent to my room. I gave him the number, and took my hanky out and wiped my mouth with the soft silk. I put it back, and leaned back in my chair, and draped my left arm over the back, looking at Aaron while he finished his Sushi.
"Would you like to see my room on the ship?"
"Can I?"
"Of course. Are you still hungry, or shall we go?"
"No, I've eaten enough." he drained his flute, and I finished mine as well, and stood. He pushed back his chair, and I could see he was a little unsteady on his feet. I took his arm, to help him along, and we made our way out of the grand ballroom.
In the lobby, we waited for the elevator, and he leaned against me. I helped him on the elevator, and down the hall to my room. Inside, he was feeling a little drunk, and asked if he could lay down on my bed for a bit. I helped him to it, and as he lay back with his legs over the edge, I removed his shoes and lifted his legs up onto the bed. Just then, there was a tap on the door.
"Who is it?"
"Room Service."
"Ah. The Champagne." I opened the door, and the waiter pushed a cart into the room. I slipped him a five, and he bowed out of the door. I shut it again and shot the bolt.
"Like another flute of Champagne Aaron?"
"I love Champagne," he said, Pushing himself up on his elbows. "Do you mind if I take my jacket off John? I feel too warm in here."
"Not at all. You can take everything off if you want. I certainly won't mind." He grinned at me, and shucked off his jacket. He placed it on the chair beside the bed, and I popped the cork on the first bottle. As I poured the wine, watching the glorious bubbles rising into a foamy head, he removed his tie and began to unbutton his shirt. I felt my cock begin to thicken as I watched him. He didn't stop with his shirt, and continued to his pants. I walked over to him, with the flutes in one hand, loosening my tie as well with my free hand.
"To new friends," I said, handing him his glass. We tinked them together and he laughed. He was a sexy kid, maybe five or six years younger than me.
His body was lithe and flexible, and very much the model type he professed to be. I sat on the edge of the bed, and ran my hand over his now naked thigh, He had a moderately sized cock, and it was growing under my hand still hidden in his white cotton briefs. He looked at my yellow hanky again, and took it in his teeth. He tugged it slowly out of my pocket, and let it fall gracefully across his chest. His nipples were stiff under the soft cloth. I leaned over and took one between my teeth through the silk. I bit down slightly, and he arched his back pushing his nipple into my mouth. He shivered, and reached over to squeeze my now solid cock through my pants.
"Ooo John, you have a big dick. I hope you know how to use it."
"Yeah, I do OK. What would you like me to do with it?"
"I want to taste it first." He unzipped my fly, and dragged my aching cock out into the air. He took a sip of wine, and handed me the flute. He swooped sown on my cock and swallowed me whole with the bubbles from the Champagne tickling my sensitive cock skin. He swallowed the wine, and then began sucking. The boy was a born cock sucker. I humped my hips into his bobbing head, and moaned with pleasure. I couldn't move or do anything, because he'd started with me holding both flutes, one in each hand. I just spread my arms with the bubbling wine glasses, and let the boy suck.
When he had enough, he pulled off leaving my cock glistening with his spit.
I handed him his flute, and he sat back on the pillows his free hand squeezing his cock, while he sipped his wine. I swallowed the rest of the wine in my glass, and set it on the bedside table. I started stripping off my suit. I hung it in the closet, so it wouldn't get wrinkled, and slipped off my shirt and then my boxers. I stood there with my slick cock, throbbing in front of me. He finished his wine, and set his glass on the table next to mine and reached for my cock again.
He took my hardness into his left hand and pulled me forward. As he did this, he peeled out of his cotton briefs, letting me see his cock for the first time. He had a decent six inches complete with foreskin. It was a beautiful little mouthful, and I bent over and swallowed it. He let me suck for a moment, then pulled my head up and off himself.
"I want you to fuck me John."
"Can't do it Aaron. I don't have any condoms. Do you?"
"No. I wasn't planning on getting fucked for Thanksgiving."
"Then we can't do it."
"Are you positive?"
"Absolutely."
"No. I mean are you positive. You know HIV positive."
"Uh no. Are you?"
"No. I've got a card that shows my status. I had it done in Texas before I left, and I haven't had sex with anyone since I got to California." He reached to the floor and picked up his pants. He extracted his billfold, and pulled out a card. He showed it to me to prove he was negative.
"So?"
"I'm willing to trust that you're not either. I need to get fucked today."
He dropped his billfold on the pants, and reached for my cock again. He sucked me while I thought about it. Gradually, I felt the need to experience his body fully and ran my hand down his back and cupped his ass. He moaned, and using his hands, spread his ass cheeks for me. I let my fingers trail down his crack, and pushed into his hole. He relaxed the muscle, and my finger dipped into his warm opening. He sighed, and pulled off my cock again and scooted around until his butt was aligned with my cock. His raised his legs and pulled my cock toward his asshole. I put it to his pucker, and pushed into him.
It had been years since I'd barebacked anyone, and I was blown away at the exquisite sensations my cock was feeling as I plugged his butt. He rocked his hips, and I pushed all the way into him balls deep. He reached up and pulled me down on top of him, locking his legs around my waist. He hugged my head to his cheek and I heard him moan with pleasure.
"Fuck me John. I need you to really let me have it." I did as I was told, and laid waste to his prostate. He held me tight through the entire time, and was right with me humping his hips in unison, moaning sexy words in my ear, while his nervous hands raked through my hair and across my back. I came like a cannon and he grunted when I did, and squirted a good load of cream between us. We lay like that for a few moments and I began to lose my erection. I began to pull out and he grabbed me to stop it.
"Stay in me please. I need you inside me right now." He was insistent, and held onto me tightly.
I relaxed, and soon realized that cuming had brought on another problem. I had to piss.
"Aaron, I have to take a piss." He raised my head with his hands, and looked at me.
"Were you wearing that yellow hanky for a reason?"
"Yeah, I like the color."
"You know what yellow means?"
"Cowardly I suppose?"
"No it doesn't...does it?"
"It means you like piss play. Water sports. Is that what you like Aaron?"
"I've always wondered about it."
"Never done it?"
"No."
"What do you think you'd like to try?"
"I don't know."
"Well, I have to piss, so what if I just let go."
"In my ass?"
"Yes.
"That sounds sexy. Let's do it." He wiggled his butt against my cock. I leaned over, and found his mouth with mine. I probed into him with my tongue, and he melted to my body. I relaxed as the kiss grew heated. He moaned under me, and I felt my bladder begin to empty. He sucked in his breath as he felt the heat of my piss streaming in a gush into his guts. He struggled under me slightly, wiggling in what may have been a sort of panic.
I was flooding his guts with a lot of now hot Champagne liquid.
He was gasping under me and had begun to writhe around as much as he could beneath my weight. I kissed his neck, and he groaned quietly under me. I could hear his belly beginning to slosh. I raised up and looked down at him. His stomach was distended with the massive flood of piss I was still pumping into him. He twisted his head from side to side, and his mouth opened silently, and then closed with a gnashing of teeth.
His little boy cock, suddenly expanded again, and he began to shake under me, his belly jiggling like a water balloon. I felt my piss stream beginning to slacken, and I reached down and took his stiff little cock in my hand and pulled his foreskin back exposing his cock head, he grunted and shot another load. The first slash of cum streaked across his chest, hitting him in the face. It was followed quickly with a second spurt that I caught in my palm. A third added to the pool of cum I was holding, and then a dribble oozed into my cupping hand. When he was finished, I brought his sweet cream to my mouth and licked it off my palm.
His eyes, which had been tightly shut during this whole process suddenly snapped open. His panic had returned.
"John, I'm going to lose it. I can't hold it inside anymore."
"Hold on to my neck. I'm going to pick you up." I put my arms around his body, cupped my hands under his buns and lifted. I started to walk toward the bathroom, but he moaned and gasped.
"I can't hold it baby," He gasped again, and I reached for the silver plated ice bucket the Champagne had been brought in, and held the cold bucket under his ass. I heaved my butt backward, pulling my limp dick free of his hole. The hot piss gushed into the bucket from his distended butthole. He clung to me, kissing my face and mouth while he emptied his guts into the ice filled bucket. When he finally had stopped squirting piss out of his asshole, he dropped his feet to the floor, and relieved my straining back muscles. I dropped to my knees, and set the half filled bucket between his legs, and put my cold hands on his hips. I leaned forward and took his limp cock in my mouth, and looked up into his glazed eyes and waited.
It took a moment, but I felt a squirt of hot liquid across my tongue, and then it stopped. I swallowed his stinging urine, and pinched his flaccid cock between my thumb and forefinger. I removed my mouth and looked up at him again.
"Let me have it Aaron. Give it to me like I was a porcelain urinal." I took his dick back into my warm mouth while I felt him trying to relax his bladder. It took him a long moment, but slowly he began to piss in my mouth. A slow stream at first, but growing in strength until it was stinging the back of my throat with its force. I swallowed and swallowed and swallowed.
When he'd finished, he hugged my head to his stomach, and I looked up when he let me go, and burped a gassy bubble of his warm piss. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips, licking my mouth and teeth, tasting his own urine he found still lingering there.
"That was the sexiest thing I've ever done. We have to do it again."
I got off my knees, and popped the cork on the second bottle. I poured him another glassful, and then one for myself. I sat on the bed, my cock growing between my legs. He sat beside me, and took my growing member in his hand. He leaned over and kissed the head lightly, and I let a short splash of piss squirt into his mouth. He lapped it like a kid with a favorite ice cream cone, and I gave him a few more squirts.
I set my glass down, and laid back on the bed, my cock fully hard now. He started to slowly suck me again, his hand jacking my shaft in unison with his bobbing head. I could feel two things happening, my nuts were beginning to ache for another cum blow, and my bladder was working overtime filling up. It was going to be a wonderful Thanksgiving after all.
Truly the End