Travis was fed up being in a "drought" in the Virginia Beach/Norfolk area. He'd "strike gold" with chubby daddy Vic, a Tampa snowbird looking for some companionship (BBC).
"You're handsome."
"Thanks, but I'm not looking."
I was online, checking Bigger City at 1 a.m. and not actually expecting to connect with someone.
"And yet your profile says you're single, active, and would like a friend, whatever that means," Vic said. "Now stop being a snob, and tell me your name. I'm Vic."
The short and plump self-described "paw paw" was a bit salty, a tad aggressive in the lane of power bottom, perhaps.
"Wake up and talk to me," he said.
"You're a shit talker," I said to him.
"I am, and a horny one at that," he messaged back.
He had a way with words and brandished a certain charm, so instead of me canceling discussion, he did enough to weasel his way onto my mind, and essentially my pants merely with the back and forth.
"Come down here to Tampa and let me take care of ya," he suggested.
"You ever get your fine ass down here, I could show you a really good time."
He truly piqued my interest as I went from being tired, to not being able to sleep.
"You're up there in Virginia Beach. Your dick should get more turns than a doorknob," he claimed.
I let him know it was the contrary, as I wasn't considered "top shelf" in the area, being 36, six foot five, and 285 lbs. with big arms and belly to match.
"I like your belly, and I'm guessing that fat cock under it is as beautiful as that face of yours," he texted.
We exchanged phone numbers and ended up having a lengthy phone conversation into the latest hour. I learned he was a Baltimore native turned snowbird, as he retired from his long tenured IRS gig in Maryland and went south.
"Been down here for five years. I ain't going nowhere," he told me.
Vic loved Florida, as to him, it had everything he ever wanted except his family, with his grands being up north.
"I'm just a lonely, horny grandfather,"
he added.
He unlocked his photos while we were on the phone and revealed a beautiful, chub body.
"That ass is amazing," I told him as he was naked and on his knees, with his cheeks spread.
"Think you can handle it," he asked.
"The better question is can you handle me," I said to him as my dick was pulsating in my shorts.
Three weeks later I was flying out of Norfolk, en route to Tampa, landing at 8 p.m. on a humid Friday night.
I exited the jetway and went to baggage claim to grab my bag, then outside I'd find with him waiting on the curb, in his tricked out, Camaro convertible.
"Welcome to Florida," he yelled as he made eye contact.
He stood in Ralph Lauren threads and sunshades, looking dapper and smelling just as good in some expensive cologne. We hugged softly with wrapped our arms around each other before security warned us to move.
"Get your fine ass in the car," he demanded.
And I would as that sexy Maryland drawl was icing on the cake with him. He popped his trunk and took my bag, then opened the door for me to enter before we sped off into the night a minute or so later.
"How do you feel," he asked.
I felt like I was on vacation, but with a long, lost friend, as he drove off and grabbed my left hand with his right. The feeling was enhanced when he pushed a button, and the top would roll down to give us the mighty, nightly breeze from the Tampa Bay.
"Ready for some fun," he asked while flying down I-275.
"Yes," I yelled as we were rolling to Clearwater to join his friends.
It was a 30 minute ride to the smallish, but packed pub where three of his friends, Brandon from Boston, Chris from Louisville, and Josh from Orlando, were already seated at the bar.
"Your latest heartthrob," said Brandon as he introduced me to the three. "Don't mind us, we're just a group of snarky, horny bears you probably won't see often."
Brandon, who was in my age range, was a bearded bear of which Vic was closest to, and yet rubbed all the way wrong from the looks he gave. He had his twinkish ways, purely femme from the earrings, down to his total mannerisms, and he for sure was a snob that I could never get used to.
"You sure know how to pick them," he said before he rudely turned his back to me.
"I'm far from snarky, just direct and to the point," said his silver bearded buddy Chris who extended his hand with no problem. "And its nice to meet you, Travis, you're a handsome one."
I could see myself being shelved by Vic, and Chris snatching me up as he flirted with his eyes, and was a tad more masculine, and older than Brandon, and more my speed other than Vic.
I'd learn they all were present to celebrate a weekend which happened to include Vic's 63rd birthday, as Josh, the in-between super chub, was the one to start a chorus of singing "Happy Birthday" that would ramble throughout the pub from his first note. Vic of course was embarrassed, and somewhat emotional at the end as it seemed everyone in the bar knew him, and would show love.
"Round on me," I kept hearing from other guys, some being flirtatious and he not necessarily pushing their visual advances away, despite my presence.
"All these junior varsity types, and yet he's got All-Pro in front of him," Brandon would state of the numerous flirts. "This man flew in to see you. You better take care of him."
"Oh don't worry. We know what candle he'll be blowing tonight," said Josh as the group of guys carried on.
"Honey, you want a drink," Vic would ask me.
Josh canceled his inquiry and instead chose to pay for the first two rounds.
"Come on, let's go to a table, its getting a little too rowdy here," Josh stated.
We moved to a booth that fit the five of us, with Vic sitting on the same side as me.
The drinks would come, as would a basket of shareable wings to galvanize questions from Vic's trio of friends.
"How'd you guys meet? How long you been talking? You two serious," were just three flagship questions of discussion. His friends truly cared for him, and I understood I needed to answer honestly, yet carefully for I couldn't just handle their friend any kind of way. The entire time I sipped my Long Island Iced Tea while Vic had his big, bear hand on my left knee, occasionally pushing it up my thigh.
"You guys trying to get us married," Vic would ask.
I felt his pinky brushing into the lining of my boxer briefs, and I'd twitch, for he was close to the sacred spot of my nut sack.
"Not married, but you do need to get your groove back," Brandon suggested as they knew Vic hadn't been with anyone in some time.
Vic's hand pinky was now brushing the follicles of my balls, and I tried to play it cool, acting as if his hand wasn't under the table fondling my balls, and getting me hard. The four of them would chat, and nod their heads, or sing to the music until Vic literally grabbed my balls with his left hand. I turned my head his way, and he turned his to me with a smirk and wink, and I tried my best to keep my composure.
"You guys met where," Brandon rehashed.
"Lemme guess....Bigger City," said Josh as they all giggled.
I turned to look at Vic and he smiled, as at this time, he found a way to stroke my cock while it was still in my underwear and shorts.
I'd find that was where his prime pool of suitors came from, and he, too, had a thing for bigger, older men, for he cherished getting them off the same as someone younger, We continued on chatting, laughing, and sipping while Vic was literally rubbing the soul out of me, slowly, precisely stroking this dick of mine as I tried to have a blank stare.
"You okay," he asked, as his smile disappeared and he fixed his lips to appear in a devilish manner.
He knew the answer to that as I tried to keep a straight face, but him fumbling with my stick had my toes curling. I didn't expect this. I knew we'd go back to his place, get naked and fuck, not go somewhere else and discreetly get a handjob from him.
"You having a good time," he asked as he rubbed harder.
"I am."
"You sure baby," he asked as he was persistent.
I put my head down and pretended to look at my phone, for the screen was black. The other guys didn't seem to know what was going on for they were too busy tipsy and debating random shit. Vic looked back straight, and around the pub while getting me off at this booth, discreetly jerking me off and making me want to scream.
"Can you wait to get home," he asked.
"I can't," I said.
"Can't hear you," he said as he was trying to trick me into moaning. "You know when I get home, I'm gonna take care of you."
Right then, I'd explode in my shorts as the words "take care of you" just seemed to coax the climax. When he stopped, he gently rubbed my balls while smearing my cum against my skin and the fabric, and while no one was looking, he'd literally lick his fingers, acting as if he had another wing and the batter was tasty. Right then and there, he sucked my semen off his finger tips, then looked at me and winked, before the other guys started talking back to us.
"You two are quiet," Brandon said.
I simply smiled and looked away.
"Well, something's come up, and we need to handle it," Vic said to him.
Brandon would end up paying the tab, and Vic would stand up first before me, and led the way out of the pub to his car after we hugged and said goodbye.
"Brunch Sunday," Josh mentioned to us as we walked away.
We went into the car, and Vic played Al Green to the loudest decibel before he pulled out and lit a cigar.
"You enjoying yourself yet," he asked.
"I most certainly am," I told him.
"Good. That was just the tip of the iceberg. You know, I'm not the only one that wants that dick up the ass," he added. "But for now, until I say so, you're mine, and I'm gonna make sure you have all the fun on my birthday."
We sped off into the night, and headed back to Tampa en route to his condo, with me feeling like I was on Cloud Nine.
To be continued.