FOREVER 1 - Beginnings
By Jack Schaeffer
Copyright © 2014 - 2015. All rights reserved.
By Jack Schaeffer
Copyright © 2014 - 2015. All rights reserved.
from Dune (1984) by Frank Herbert, David Lynch
As I reached for the screaming alarm the next morning, I was aware of two things at once: the smell of dried cum and my rock hard morning wood. My JO session last night had been epic for me, and I think I may have even had a wet dream during the night on top of it, judging by the mess all over my pubes. That had not happened in quite a while. I could still recall remnants of my dreams of Joe, the bartender, and I reached for my cock to start stroking again.
But then lawyer Barry's inebriated face popped into the picture and immediately ended any more play for me. Geez, I hope the guy got home okay last night. He was pretty wasted from what I could tell. Very sad.
My next thought was I had to pee so I got up, stretched, and took care of business. I was staring at my mug in the mirror, thinking I really needed a haircut, and reached for the toothpaste.
Teeth cleaned, I jumped in the shower and cleaned the rest of me, paying close attention to the mess between my legs. I really don't enjoy the feeling of dried cum on my skin. Wet, it's kind of cool and slick, but once it dries it feels weird. I wondered for the millionth time what cum tastes like – I had never had the nerve to taste my own. I came close a couple of times, but always chickened out. I thought it was hot when I saw guys do it in porn videos, but I don't know. I just was so nervous to do anything beyond whacking off.
Out of the shower, towel-dried, shaved and hair-brushed, I looked mostly presentable for the day. Other than I was still naked, so I headed back into my room, pulling underwear, socks, and some Dockers from my small chest of drawers - another refugee from a neighbor's intended trashing - and grabbed a light blue, long sleeved button-up shirt from my closet. It wasn't hard to choose my wardrobe. I had exactly enough work clothes for five days per week, and my outfits were almost like a uniform. If I found a pair of pants that fit well, I would buy them in every color available – same with shirts. Boring I know, but I had no confidence in clothing. Not exactly a gay stereotype.
It was then I suddenly remembered I was supposed to be going to Denver tonight. Crap! Now I had to figure out clothes to wear for this trip. What in the world does one wear to a lawyer's office to discuss inheritances? Something black for mourning?
I had one suit, navy blue, not black, which I wore maybe twice a year, only if absolutely necessary. I decided it would be appropriate for meeting the judge Clyde said I would have to meet. I got it from a Goodwill store when I was invited to one of my former college buddy's wedding last year. It looked brand new then, and fit pretty well. I didn't have the sleeves tailored or anything, so they were maybe a little too long? I don't know. The pants were a little loose in the waist, and the length was maybe a hair short, but it all looked better than jeans or khakis for a special event. Instead of making a great impression, I usually settled for trying to not make a bad impression. I think I pulled it off most of the time.
I added my one white dress shirt and my red and blue striped tie to the pile accumulating on my bed. Underwear, t-shirt, and socks completed the look. Then I added the rest of the week's work clothes to the mix to finish the packing job. I only had the one pair of dress/work shoes, so I would be wearing those.
I had no luggage to speak of, so I grabbed my old duffle bag I had moved to Chicago with and put everything in there, trying to carefully fold the suit jacket so it wouldn't get too wrinkled. I was pretty sure I would have to hang it in the hotel bathroom with lots of steam to get it presentable. At least I hoped there was a hotel. I had no idea where I was going to be staying. Details, details.
I put my razor, shaving cream, deodorant, toothbrush, toothpaste and my hairbrush into a zip lock plastic baggie and added all of it to the duffle. I was packed.
I dropped the duffle bag by the door across from my kitchen, then headed in there for a bowl of cereal and glass of juice. I hated the taste of coffee - I figured I saved a fortune avoiding Starbuck's and the like every day. Mary at work brought some very large, foamy coffee thing in every morning. She was impossible to talk to until she had half of it down her gullet. No wonder she complained about her weight all the time. Had to be a 1000 calories in those things. To each her own, I guess.
I looked around my apartment for anything out of place, jiggled the toilet handle to make sure there was no water running, and locked up. Carrying my duffle bag to the car, I started planning on how I was going to ask for the next two days off.
The ride in was surprisingly quick, as there was very little traffic that morning. Not a normal commute, which was good because I got to my desk a bit early and got the pile of paper I had left last night organized. I saw Marcus Thompson, my boss, come in a few minutes after me and head to his office. I gave him about five minutes and then followed him to the kitchenette area when he went to get a cup of coffee.
"What's happening today, Jack?" Marcus asked.
"The usual. But I did want to talk to you about taking a couple of days off. Something's come up and I need to take care of it, but it's out of town."
"Oh, when did you need to go?"
"I know it's very little...well...no notice, but I need to leave tonight, so I would need tomorrow and Friday off. I have everything up to date, all my work is caught up, and we should have a light load of invoices the rest of the week. I think Mary can cover those pretty easily. We can get the payables finished today, which is the only big thing left this week I think." I figured I would lay the groundwork that this was not a big deal as quickly as possible.
"Have you done payroll yet?" Always concerned about getting everybody paid, which I appreciated.
"Yes sir, already sent to the service, checks should be here tomorrow morning for Friday distribution."
"Well, Jack, it is rather short notice, but you do have the time coming to you. Is there anything you need help with? You're not in some kind of trouble are you?" He looked at me with his characteristic concerned face. This is why I liked this guy so much. He cared about me. He wasn't challenging me or assuming I had messed up somehow, he genuinely wanted to know if I needed his help.
"No, I'm good, really. It's family stuff, so I have to go deal with it. I'll be back this weekend and at my desk first thing Monday morning." The family part just came out of my mouth, I hadn't planned on saying that. Little did I know it was closer to the truth than I could have imagined.
"Okay, Jack, I guess you've got your two days off. What are you going to tell Mary?" he asked, smiling. He knew she was going to go insane until she figured out what I was up to.
"I was hoping to leave any conversation with her till the end of the day, then kind of spring it on her on my way out the door."
"Smart boy, smart boy," he said, tapping his temple. He chuckled and turned and headed to his office.
The morning passed quickly. I got the accounts payable files finalized for payment, printed the checks, and Marcus signed them. He asked again if he could help with anything, but I assured him everything would be fine. I don't know if he was convinced, but he dropped it.
At lunch time, I sat in my car outside and called Clyde's office in Denver on my cell phone, still trying to keep Mary in the dark. I had a very basic phone, no smartphone for me. I didn't text, email, or browse on my phone. I made phone calls. Maybe five per month. I never came close to using my minutes, which were the smallest amount you could buy. Small income, small budget.
The call went through and a woman answered, a smile in her voice. "Law offices, how may I help you?"
"I'm looking for Clyde Watson, or his secretary Sharon, please. My name is Jack Schaeffer."
"Hi, Jack. I'm Sharon. Clyde said to expect your call. Will you be joining us out here tomorrow?" Clearly she had been apprised of our discussion from the previous night.
"Yes, Sharon, I was able to get the time off. Clyde mentioned you could arrange for me to fly there tonight and you would take care of all expenses." I sighed. I sounded so desperate and cheap when I spoke of expenses. It embarrassed me.
"No problem, honey. I actually took the liberty of planning ahead, so if you have a pen and paper handy, I can give you some information as to what to do and where to go." This woman was on top of things, for sure. I could see why Clyde spoke highly of her.
She definitely had it all planned out. I was to go to O'Hare for a flight on United Airlines, leaving at 7:32pm and arriving in Denver at 9:05pm their time. They were an hour behind Chicago time. There was a prepaid ticket for me at the United ticket counter. I just had to show them my ID.
As for accommodations, she had me booked into a downtown Denver hotel. Either she forgot to tell me the name, or I forgot to write it down. No worries, because a driver, by the name of Billy Adams, would be at baggage claim waiting for me to take me there. He would have a sign with my name on it so I could identify him. The hotel would be paid for by the firm, as well as any expenses like room service and the like.
"Now Jack, if while you are here you need to purchase anything for yourself, a water bottle, food, a pack of gum, whatever, just keep a receipt for it. That includes parking your car at the airport in Chicago. You give me those receipts and I'll see to it you get reimbursed right away. Okay?"
"Okay, Sharon. Wow, this sure is an awful lot of fuss for me. Are you sure all this is necessary? I mean, a driver? I'm sure I could take a cab to the hotel." I was feeling a little overwhelmed by all she had planned for me. It seemed over the top. But I felt a little excited too. My very own driver!
"Jack, Clyde made it very clear you were to be taken care of like any other VIP. And that's what you are to us here, Jack, a very important person, okay? Don't let the expenses bother you. And Billy is the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet. He'll take good care of you this week and get you where you need to go."
"Okay, Sharon. I'll do my best to follow the plan. It's all just so sudden, you know?" I didn't know if she was aware of all the reasons why I was coming out there, but I was guessing she probably did.
"I understand, Jack. I promise we will make it as easy for you as we can. Be safe, and if you need anything, or run into any problems, let me give you my cell phone number and you call me, you hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for your help with all this."
"My pleasure. It's what I do. Now, are you ready for that number?" She gave me her cell phone number and we ended the call after she made me promise again to contact her if I ran into any difficulties.
As the end of the working day approached, I realized I should maybe try to leave a little early and get to the airport. I had only been in there one other time, with Fred, to pick up some out of town guests for our college buddy's wedding. Fred drove, so I still had no idea of how to park there or get into the terminal from the lot.
Marcus told me I could leave whenever, so at 4:30 I went to the closet to get my jacket. I was pulling it on when Mary, who had been uncharacteristically quiet all day, asked what I thought I was doing leaving a half hour early.
"I get the feeling you've been avoiding me today, Jack? What gives?" she asked.
"Nothing Mary, just leaving early. Oh, and I won't be here tomorrow or Friday. Taking some time off. Can you handle the invoicing while I'm out?" I knew she could do the invoices in her sleep – she really is an office dynamo. But invoices were not her immediate concern.
"What? You just walk out of here without so much as a how do you do? What are you doing? Where are you going?" She was staring at me intensely now.
"Mary, it's no big deal. Just some family stuff. Gotta go out of town. I'll be back Monday." I decided to stick to my earlier story, in case she compared notes with Marcus. God, this woman could be a pain sometimes. I just wanted to leave already.
"Well, fine then. Go on, do your family stuff. But I expect to hear all about it come Monday." She was smiling, but I knew she was serious about wanting to know all come Monday. Fat chance of that.
I got out of there while the "gettin' was good", as my grandmother always said.
I managed to find the remote parking lot at the airport without too much trouble. Thankfully there were signs in all the right places to guide me there. Tax dollars actually working. Once I parked and had my duffle bag in hand, I looked around for how I was to get to the terminal.
I saw the overhead rail tracks of a people mover train system that seemed to be what I was looking for, so I headed over to what appeared to be the end of the line terminus. I rode the escalator up to the platform, and then followed the assembled people onto the next train headed to the terminals. I figured I couldn't mess this part up. The train only went one direction from here.
Inside the train, I remained standing and looked at the information placards hanging above our heads. I saw the airport terminal map and figured out my terminal, Terminal 1, was where United Airlines was, and it was at the end of the line in the other direction. So I stood back and held the handrail against the incessant rocking back and forth of the train. The constant repetitive motion was almost putting me to sleep.
When we eventually arrived at my stop, I exited the train with the other masses headed for United. Most of them seemed to know where they were going, and they were moving in a hurry. I crossed over the pedestrian bridge from the train into the terminal and headed for a ticket counter. Surprisingly, the lines for purchasing tickets, which is where Sharon had told me to go, were fairly short. I guess most people purchased online now or ahead of time somehow.
At the counter I told the agent there should be a ticket pre-purchased for me. I gave her my driver's license and waited while she located the ticket and printed my boarding pass. She asked if I was checking any luggage, but I said I wanted to keep my duffle bag if I could. She looked with a disdainful eye at its appearance, and nodded her head in the affirmative. I guess I passed.
I took my boarding pass and headed in the direction she pointed for security. I was stopped at the entrance by someone who asked to see my boarding pass before I even got in line. He took one look at it and said I was in the wrong place. He pointed to another queue 20 feet away. It was marked Priority Boarding. I was going to ask him if he was sure, but he pointed more emphatically again, letting me know to get moving; I was holding up his line.
I moved to the new line and up to the actual ticket inspector, who reviewed my license against the boarding pass, stamped it, scribbled some code on it, and handed it back to me with a, "Have a nice flight, sir."
I had only ever flown on a plane a couple of times, the last being before 9/11, so I was unfamiliar with all the protocols for getting through the scanners. But I watched those in front of me and mimicked them. I had my shoes and belt off and my bag ready to go onto the scanner belt when it was my turn. Thankfully I passed through the body scanner with no problems, grabbed my shoes and belt, and found a seat nearby. I saw one of the security TSA agents glance my way, and he smiled a funny smile at me. He was watching me closely as I put my belt back on. I got the feeling he was interested in me in more of a sexual way than with security concerns. That was different. I looked at lots of guys that way, but I don't think I ever caught someone looking at me like that. I smiled back, finished putting myself back together, and went to find my gate. I was still smiling when I found it.
I was early it appeared, and I was hungry, so I grabbed a sandwich and a diet soda from a kiosk near the gate. I didn't want to stray too far – I would hate to miss my flight after I had made it this far.
I spent my time eating my dinner and watching the people go by, doing my usual thing of ogling the sexy guys, hoping they didn't catch me looking. Though when I caught the TSA guy looking at me before, it didn't make me mad. It made me feel good somehow. Maybe I was afraid of something I shouldn't be? Maybe a strange guy wouldn't mind if I was lusting after him, but I doubted it.
I checked my watch and decided to hit the bathroom one last time before boarding. It was close by, so I slung my duffle over my shoulder and stepped up to a urinal at the far end of the row. It was busy in there, guys coming and going at a fast clip, doing their business and moving on. The place was clean for a public men's room. Usually you find yourself standing in who knows how many guys' pee on the floor in front of the urinal. I noticed there were no privacy panels between the urinals. It was a little unusual in this day and age of hyper sensitivity.
I also noticed the guy standing to my right was taking his time. He had been standing there when the guy before me left. Now he was still there. I sensed he was watching me out of the corner of his eye, and he stepped back ever so slightly from his urinal. As carefully as I could, I glanced sideways and down and saw his cock sticking straight out in front of him, uncut and obviously fully hard. He was very slowly pulling the foreskin back and forth over the head. Maybe he thought it looked like he was just trying to get the last drop off the end, but to me he was clearly working his meat. I started to get a little hard myself, which was making it difficult to pee, which I needed to do and then get out of there. I did have a plane to catch.
I averted my eyes back to straight in front of me and thankfully was able to finish up with no more trouble. I zipped up and turned to leave and the guy was still doing his thing. He smiled at me brazenly, letting me know he had caught me looking. I'm sure I blushed as I headed to the sinks to wash up. I felt really strange. Two guys had clearly shown an interest in me in less than an hour. Who knew an airport could be a hotbed of gay sexual activity? Though it's not like I would ever participate in it.
I got back to my gate as they were calling for Group 1 to board. I looked at my boarding pass closely for the first time, and saw a box outlining what was clearly Group 1 inside it. So I got in line and proceeded to hand over the pass to the agent at the gate. She scanned it, gave it back to me, and I followed the elderly lady in front of me onto the jet way.
I was excited to be flying, but a little nervous too. I hoped I wasn't in a middle seat though. Probably likely as this ticket was purchased last minute and the flight seemed like it could be full, judging by the number of people in the gate area. When it was my turn to enter the plane, a flight attendant smiled at me and asked to see my boarding pass, which I handed to her.
"Your seat is to the left here, sir. You have the window seat in Row 3 on the right." She smiled at me and pointed in the direction I was to move.
That was odd – everyone else in front of me and gone to the right when they got on the plane. I guess the jet way was attached to the middle of the plane, not at the front like I thought.
As I made the left turn to walk down the aisle, it became clear what was going on. The flight attendant had steered me towards the First Class seats. The first thing I noticed was there were no middle seats, just two on each side of the aisle. And they were bigger than what I remembered from my two previous flights.
I moved up to Row 3 and saw my seat by the window. Another flight attendant came up to me and asked if I needed any assistance with stowing my luggage. I thought it was nice of him to call my duffle bag luggage. As I pulled it off my shoulder, he smiled at me and I saw something in his eyes – a spark, a light, a twinkle. I don't know, but it was there. And I could feel myself smiling right back at him. I handed him the bag and he reached up to open the bin above our heads, never taking his eyes off of mine. Eventually though, he had to break the spell and look to see what he was doing lest he hit us both in the head with the bag. Luggage stowed, he pointed to my seat, then pushed his dark blond hair off his forehead.
"Welcome aboard. My name is Seth, and I will be the First Class cabin purser this evening. Can I get you anything before our flight? Cocktail, juice, water, snack of some kind?"
"No thank you, Seth. Not right now," I replied, as I took my seat.
"Don't hesitate to stop me at any time during the flight if you need anything." He smiled again, lingering for a second or two longer than seemed necessary, then started back down the aisle to greet the next passenger.
I struggled for a minute with the seatbelt until I figured out I had the buckle upside down. I was more than a little flustered with the attention from Seth. The other two guys who had shown an interest in me inside the airport seemed to be insincere compared to Seth. Almost like their interest was more about them and what they wanted, not about me. Like I was just a thing or an object to be used. In our very short interaction, Seth had somehow made me feel like he was making it all about me. And I don't think it was solely because that was his job.
And then there was the matter of how he looked. First of all, he was very hot. Very. He had a hint of a beard going, which is always a turn on for me. And those eyes. What was the light thing happening in there? When he walked back to the front galley I stole a glance at his ass in his tight uniform pants. My dick immediately starting dancing in my own.
I needed to get myself in control. Geez, I go on my first trip out of town in years and I don't even get out of the airport before I'm perving on every guy who smiles at me. Get a grip, Jack.
Seth was really cute as he worked his way through the pre-flight safety speech. Where was he with the seatbelt instructions when I was struggling with mine earlier? I thought about how I could have asked him for help and then he would have had his hands near my cock, fastening the buckle. His hand would have "accidentally" grazed my hard dick sticking out from my crotch. He would have kept his hand there, staring into my eyes with that light shining deep within them...
I shook myself out of my sexual daydream just in time to feel the plane's engines rumble to full power as we lurched forward down the runway. I had forgotten how much I liked this part. Being in the front of the plane, I could feel us leave the runway first and then a few seconds later the rear wheels let go of the earth and we were airborne.
I reclined my seat and looked out of the window until I could no longer see anything but dim lights far below us. I then looked around the cabin a bit more, and watched shyly while Seth moved up and down the rows, taking orders for dinner, refilling drinks, and in general just being a gorgeous human being. I started wondering if maybe I could one day come out of my shell and actually talk to another guy, both of us knowing the other is gay, and exploring where that might lead.
The idea of admitting out loud to someone I was gay was beyond frightening to me. I was still so afraid of violent reactions and dangerous consequences. I was also starting to wonder if maybe I was denying my sexuality to myself, all the while other gay guys were picking up on it and trying to let me know they knew. Guys like Seth.
We were playing a game, Seth and I. It was exciting. He would look over to me every once in a while and smile, even when he was serving someone else. I knew he knew I was watching his every move, and I think he was enjoying it as much as I was. I know I was smiling as much or more than him. It was like we were dancing with each other without touching, moving to music only we heard, full of anticipation and longing and wonder at what might be. It was heady stuff for me. I had never felt these feelings before. I had never allowed myself to feel anything before.
Maybe it was the relative anonymity of travel. Sure, I had a name, but right now I was seat 3D. And Seth was flirting with 3D. I wasn't sure what 3D was doing back. I imagined Seth talking quietly with his crew mates, asking them if they had anyone interesting on the flight in their cabin. Then he would tell them about 3D.
I wondered what he would tell them about me. How I looked? My smile? My eyes? What would any guy see in me that would interest him? Inspire him to want to know me better? I had no idea. I really didn't.
Seth served me dinner, and it was amazingly good. Surprising really, for airplane food. But it was First Class after all. And it was served by Seth. My amazing, smiling Seth. I relished every bite. Except the cheese covered broccoli. That stuff was just nasty.
Near the end of the flight, I felt my bladder call. I had selfishly asked Seth several times to refill my water, just to see him move back and forth from the galley. He didn't seem to mind. I think he knew what I was doing. Now I need to pay the piper, as it were.
I got out of my seat and moved toward the front lavatory, which thankfully was not occupied. I did my business, carefully washing my hands and checking my teeth for stray food bits. I gave myself the all clear and exited, only to walk right into Seth standing there in the galley. He smiled bigger than ever.
"Enjoying your flight?"
"Yes, I am. Thank you. It's been great."
"Excellent. I'm glad. Is there anything else I can do for you?" He asked it in a way which seemingly implied more than just during this flight, but I had no way to know.
I wasn't sure what to say. I was so unsure of myself, and I could feel my confidence start to slide. Sitting in my seat, watching him and lusting after him, I could do all that without direct interaction. Now I was standing there talking to him, even somewhat privately, and I was tongue tied.
"I...well, uh...maybe some more water?" I was so embarrassed. Really? More water? I just finished getting rid of the last gallon he had served me. Water?
He smiled and turned to get a glass to fill. First class uses real glassware. When it was filled, he handed it to me, looking straight into my eyes.
"Do you go to Denver often?" he asked.
"Uh, no actually. This is my first time."
"Business or pleasure?"
"Uh, not sure. Business, sort of, I guess." Geez, why was simple talking this hard. I took a sip of water.
"Well, Jack, I sure have enjoyed having you on my flight this evening." He said it, clearly confirming he had been aware of our game of flirtations.
Crap! Wait a minute. He called me Jack. That means he knows my name. I'm not just 3D to him. I'm Jack. Probably knows my last name too. Why did his knowing my name unnerve me? I was feeling a kind of panic set in. Like my secret cover had been blown and I was exposed now to something dangerous.
He must have sensed he had said something which changed my mood – probably showed all over my face. He started to reach for my hand, as if to comfort me, but then stopped himself. That would probably have been inappropriate under the best of circumstances. But I loved him for it. He really did care about me.
I had to let him know my insecurities were not his fault. I somehow found my voice again. "I'm sorry, Seth. Really I am. It's not you, it's me. I don't know what my problem is. I appreciate all you did for me tonight. You made the flight very special for me, and I will never forget it. But I think I had better go back to my seat now." I tried to smile at him again, but I could feel the spark between us fading away. It made me a bit sad.
"Jack, before you go, I just want to say...I understand. I do. We all have to start somewhere, and I really had fun tonight. I was dreading this flight. It's usually so boring, especially first class. The passengers are so full of themselves. But you watching me made me feel special, and I am truly happy to have met you. I hope whatever you have going on in Denver works out well for you. You're a very special guy, I can tell. Thank you for the gift of your attention tonight. I just realized standing here...I needed that, more than I knew. I'm grateful to you, Jack."
He reached out his hand to shake mine. This time I took his and held it tightly as we shook. We held hands a little too long, but it felt just perfect to me.
I returned to my seat just as the captain turned on the fasten seat belt sign and announced our impending descent into Denver. I looked up for Seth but I could see he was very busy now readying everything for landing. When he came through the cabin the last time checking tray tables and seat backs, he was all business. I might have imagined it, but he seemed a little bit sad, too, that nothing more had transpired between us. I took comfort in his kind words to me. I really hoped they were true.
I didn't get to say goodbye to him. He got called to the cockpit the second we arrived at the gate. I guess the pilots needed him for something. I lingered for a few minutes while all the other first class passengers deplaned, but then it felt awkward to stay there, so I reluctantly made my way to the door. Goodbye, Seth. Thank you for an amazing flight.
The walk to baggage claim was long. The concourse was filled with people hustling back and forth, trying not to shove one another, but still there was some serious jostling amongst my fellow travelers. I, of course, needed another pit stop with all the water I drank, so I stepped into the first bathroom I saw. The urinals here were all separated by privacy panels, and while I stood there no one was on either side of me. Just as well. What Seth and I had shared was so much more than a quick glance at a naked dick.
Denver International had three concourses connected by a tram. I was in the middle one, so I had a bit of train ride to get to baggage claim. Lots of bumping up against people, as people got on and off at the various stops. How is it that sometimes I felt the most lonely when I was surrounded by thousands of people? Maybe it's because none of them knew who I was or cared?
I saw Billy, my appointed driver, holding up the sign with my name long before he saw me. I took the opportunity to observe him for a few seconds. He was a big guy. Not fat, just big. Very tall, like 6'4" or more, with huge shoulders and some serious guns hanging off of them. For a black guy, he had interesting hair. Most black guys I knew in college and later in Chicago kept their hair pretty short. Some got rid of it all together. Billy's hair was very long, and very soft looking. Almost feminine in a way, but you would never think effeminate when looking at Billy. He could probably snap me in two and never break a sweat.
As I was studying him, he looked over in my direction, and he must have sensed me staring at him because he nodded in my direction in a friendly manner. He started moving towards me and I did the same towards him. He dropped the sign he was holding down to his side and reached out to shake my hand, which I grabbed, anticipating a serious hand attack. Surprisingly he was firm, but gentle, and when he smiled at me I could see he had very, very white teeth.
He had a great smile. His eyes lit up with it. I remembered somebody saying one time you could always tell if someone was genuinely happy to see you if their smile went past their mouth all the ways to their eyes. Billy's smile did that and then some.
"Welcome to Denver, Mr. Schaeffer. My name is Billy, and I'm gonna be your driver for the duration of your stay here. If there is anything you need, you just let me know, and I'll take care of it for you."
"Thank you, Billy. It's nice to meet you. I'm not sure I really need a driver, but I will say it is very nice to have someone look out for me in a strange town."
"Do you have any luggage we are waiting for, Sir?" he asked.
"No, Billy, just my duffle bag here. And you can drop the sir, please, it makes me feel funny. Just call me Jack, okay."
"Sure thing, Jack. Can I take that bag for you?"
I felt silly giving him my duffle bag to carry, but I also didn't want to insult him by not doing it. So I slid it off my shoulder and handed it over.
"Right this way, Jack." Billy turned on a dime and headed for the nearest exit. We walked across three lanes of cars all slowly moving through the airport's arrivals level, and into the attached parking garage.
It was cold. Much colder than Chicago. I zipped up my jacket, mentally kicking my short sightedness at not checking weather in Denver before I left. I sure hope there wasn't going to be a snow storm or something. I was not prepared for it.
"Here's the car, Jack. Watch your head getting in." Billy was holding open the back door of a black stretch limousine. Are you kidding me? They sent me a limo?
Once inside, Billy got in the driver's seat and we were off. He kept the divider open so we could talk, and I switched to the seat up closest to him so I didn't have to shout to be heard. Damn, his car was big. Nice ride though.
As we made our way through heavy traffic out of the airport and towards the hotel, I asked Billy how he became a limo driver. It seemed like a cool job to me. Apparently he had always been a gear head, fascinated with cars, engines and other mechanical things, and he worked as an apprentice mechanic out of high school. He got a job doing maintenance work for a limousine service and on a lark, the owner asked him to drive him to a function one afternoon. On the way back, the owner remarked that Billy looked good behind the wheel, like he belonged there. Billy thought so too, so he became a regular driver. Three years later he and his best friend Jerome, another driver, agreed to take over the company when the owner unfortunately was diagnosed with untreatable cancer. Billy and his partner had been slowly building the business ever since. So he wasn't just my driver. He was an owner of the company.
Billy told me his favorite client was Clyde's law office, though he never said why. He seemed genuinely honored to be driving me around, which was comforting to me somehow. I meant it when I told him it felt good to have someone looking out for me. He certainly was big enough to handle any trouble that might come our way.
He announced our arrival at the hotel, and before he could get out to open my door, it was opened by a bellboy in a smart looking uniform.
"Welcome to the Ritz Carlton, sir." He held out his hand to assist me in exiting the car. "Do you have any luggage I could take care of for you, sir?"
"I've got it," said Billy, a little perturbed he was beaten to my door by the kid in the green and red uniform.
"Right this way then, sir. I will take you to the front desk."
Billy and I followed the bellboy to the front desk, and I stepped right up to the counter, no waiting, and gave the lady standing there my name.
"Welcome to the Ritz Carlton Hotel, Mr. Schaeffer. Is this your first time staying with us?" Her polished brass name tag announced her name as Ms. Debbie Anderson, and she was apparently the Front Desk Manager.
"Yes, ma'am." I replied. I hoped my mouth wasn't stupidly hanging open, as I looked at the gleaming wood walls, amazing art work adorning them, and the unbelievable crystal chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling. I was a bit in shock – this was not Motel 6.
"Well we are very glad you've decided to join us, Mr. Schaeffer. My name is Debbie, and if you need anything, just ask. I have your room keys all ready for you. Your bill has already been taken care of, and I have a note here to remind you that you are free to use any of the hotel's amenities, restaurants, or other services at your discretion. All charges will be taken care of. Our restaurant is still open until 11:00pm this evening, or there is a room service menu in your room, should you desire something before retiring. If there is anything else you may need which is not listed on the menu, please don't hesitate to dial "0" from your room phone and we will take care of it for you. We have you in one of our Deluxe Suites on our Club Level floor. Do you have any questions for me at this time?"
I was feeling a little shaky all of a sudden. This was all way too much for a guy like me. I felt way outside my element here. I looked at Billy for some kind of mental or emotional support, and he smiled his wonderful smile at me, and I felt a bit better. I took a big breath and let it out slowly.
"No, Debbie. It sounds like you have everything covered. Thank you. Uh, how do I find my room?"
She smiled at me and replied, "Miguel will take you to your room now, sir, and explain the special amenities for our Club Level guests. Oh, and I want to remind you...you do not need to tip any of our staff during your stay here. All gratuities will be taken care of as well. We want your stay to be as comfortable as possible."
Now I felt really ignorant. I would not have known to tip anyone in the first place, certainly not how much was appropriate, anyway. I think she just saved me from offending a lot of people.
Miguel, the guy who had met my car, stepped back up to us and gestured toward a bank of elevators across the lobby. "This way, sirs."
Billy was smiling again as he carried my duffle and we followed Miguel onto the elevator and up to the top floor of the hotel. He had to insert one of the key cards to my room to allow the elevator to go to the top floors.
When we arrived at the door to my room, Miguel keyed in, and entered. Billy and I followed closely behind him. The floor at the entrance was a dark hard wood finish and opened into a deep plush carpeted living room with a couch and two chairs positioned in front of a credenza holding up a large, flat screen TV. There was a half bath off the entrance, and a desk with a chair and lamp completed the furniture in the main room.
I could see through a door on the left wall what looked like a king sized bed with more pillows and linens on it than a Bed Bath and Beyond store display. I assumed the main bathroom was somewhere in there.
Everything was decorated in beautiful neutral fabrics, golds and browns mostly, and the lighting was plentiful but felt subdued, totally appropriate for evening time. The main curtains to the large picture window were opened and the lights of downtown Denver were sparkling in the distance. The whole thing was breathtaking.
Miguel pointed out the features of the room, then explained the amenities of the Club Level. I had free internet (though I had no device to take advantage of it) and apparently they put out food appropriate to the time of day, five times a day, in a lounge down the hall, which I could have as much of as I desired. There were also free cocktails and other soft drinks and water available.
Since I had no questions, he welcomed me again to the hotel, then departed.
Billy and I just stood there and took it all in. Finally he summed it all up for me. "Nice digs." He was smiling again. God, I loved his smile.
"Unbelievable is more like it. This is incredible. I feel like I'm in some kind of fantasy." I was glad Billy was still here. I need to get my feet back under me quickly. Unfortunately, he couldn't stay long.
"Well, Jack, I need to be going. I will be back tomorrow morning to pick you up at 9 am. I'll park in the entrance area. We'll be in my regular car tomorrow – it's a black Lincoln Executive Town Car. Will that be okay with you? It's a little easier to maneuver around downtown than the limo."
"Of course, Billy. Whatever you say. You're the driver. Thank you so much for coming to get me tonight. I really appreciate it. Tomorrow morning, 9 o'clock, right?"
"Yep. See you then. Try to get some sleep. Somethin' tells me you're gonna need it." He smiled again, shook my hand, and walked quietly out the door, leaving me standing alone in a hotel room bigger than my entire apartment back in Chicago.
I don't know how long I stood there soaking it all in, but I eventually realized my arm was getting tired holding my duffle bag, which Billy had handed me on his way out. So I moved into the bedroom for the first time and dropped my bag on the floor. As expected, everything was over the top. There was another large flat screen TV opposite the bed on top of a chest of drawers. More chairs for sitting and reading, I guess.
The bathroom was all done in marble. Marble everything with gold fixtures. It was gorgeous. The shower could hold two people easily. I went over to the sink and grabbed the shampoo bottle sitting there. I flipped open the top and breathed in the fragrance. All I can say is it smelled expensive. The name on it was Bvlgari, pronounced like "Bulgari" I think, although the "u" looked like a "v". I liked it a lot. I hoped I smelled good after I used it. I had forgotten to bring any shampoo from home.
I had been expecting a place to sleep, not this. I liked it, don't get me wrong. What's not to like? But I decided right then and there not to get too comfortable over the next two nights, as this was not my normal abode, and wasn't likely to ever be.
It was nearly 10:30 but I was hungry. I remembered Debbie, the front desk manager, had said the restaurant was still open, but a full meal seemed a bit much this late at night. I wondered if there was still any food out in the Club lounge on my floor, so I went to check it out. I could use some water anyway.
I found the lounge easily enough. There were two guys sitting at a corner table drinking their cocktails and laughing a little too loudly at each other's jokes. They didn't look like a couple, so I guessed they were business associates of some kind.
It looked like all the food was in the process of being put away. Those tables were now empty, but there was evidence something had been there before. As I was looking around to locate a water bottle, a small Hispanic woman came out of a swinging door against the back wall and approached me.
"Oh. I'm sorry, sir. I have already cleared the dessert tables. Is there something you would like? I can go in the back and get it for you." She had such a sweet face.
"Well, I am a little hungry. What did you have out before? I just arrived and I think I missed the main event."
"How about some chocolate mousse? Or would you prefer a fruit plate?"
"The mousse would be great. Thank you." I wasn't sure I really knew what mousse was.
She came back carrying two large glasses filled with chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream and raspberries. She also had a plate of fruit, with sliced strawberries, peaches, blueberries, and honey dew melon. There was a sprig of mint, I think, on the side, and a dollop of whipped cream in the middle of it all for dipping. Decadent.
"I hope you enjoy these, Sir."
"Thank you. This is more than enough." She departed back through the swinging door and I headed back to my room, balancing mousse, fruit, and two water bottles I had snagged from a table while waiting for my food.
It was all incredibly delicious and exactly what I needed. A little sugar before bed is always a good thing, right? Who cares, it was amazing.
After eating, I put my few meager pieces of clothing in the drawers and hung my suit and shirts up in the closet. I was right, my suit was going to need some serious steaming tomorrow if it was to be wearable. I put my toiletries on the bathroom sink. They looked a little sad next to the Bvlgari items.
I brushed my teeth, did my toilet routine, then headed to bed. It took a couple of minutes to find all the light switches, but soon I was all set. The bed was some kind of feather bed, I think. All I know is I sank into it surrounded by many pillows and felt like I was in a cloud or something. It was heaven.
I had forgotten to bring lube with me, which was a bummer because as soon as my head hit the pillow I started thinking about Seth again and his blond hair and beard and tight ass and that was all it took to get my own cock rock hard and wanting attention. In a way I had been teasing myself all evening, and now I needed some release. So I went old school. In my college days, before I could afford to buy lube, I would just use nature's lube – my own spit.
So I wet my hand and started stroking myself. It felt great, and all the tension and emotions of the day began to drain away with the motion of my hand and I felt like I was resetting everything back to normal in a way. So there, in the middle of a fantasy bedroom, with thoughts of the amazing Seth running through my mind, I rode the wave of sexual excitement right up and over the threshold. I slept like a baby afterwards.
Author's Note: If you are enjoying this story, please take a moment to comment in the Forum on CastleRoland – you can click the link labelled "Forum Discussion" just under the story synopsis at the top of this page. Or, if you prefer, send me an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. I would love to hear your thoughts about the story.