behind him, I edged forward until the tip of my cock tickled his wet pucker hole. Holding myself at the base, I slapped my hard dick against Hector’s nice fat ass a couple times. I put my hands on his hips and pulled him back onto me. A moan escaped from his lips, like air being let out of a balloon. He continued to mumble in Spanish. I assumed it had something to do with the way I was pumping his ass. I closed my eyes and fucked him for a good long time. My thighs slapped into his ass over and over, making a clapping noise that echoed in the nearly empty room.
With his warmth surrounding me, I could feel his racing pulse beating on the base of my dick each time I paused to catch my breath. I wondered if our hearts were going to match each other.
But then I stopped thinking altogether and just fucked.
His Spanish got more intense, and I figured that meant he was about to come. I picked up my speed and fucked him all the harder. He rewarded me by clamping down his sphincter muscle while he came. It took another few minutes, but I kept fucking him until I came myself. It felt like untying a knot deep inside me.
When I stood to pull up my pants, I noticed I had a couple of angry red rug burns on my knees.
Hector stood up, cupping one hand in front of him. I realized then that he’d carefully come into his own hand. I wondered if what he’d been saying all along in Spanish was, “Don’t come on my rug.”
Hector went to wash up. I zipped my pants and realized I’d never taken off my sheepskin jacket.
I was sweating, so I went ahead and took it off. That left me in a button-down shirt with my Boystown - 60
shoulder holster holding my 9mm Sig Sauer firmly under my arm. When Hector came back into the room, he eyed my gun. “I’m glad you did not show me that before. I would come very fast.”
I smiled. “Is there anything else you can think of that might help? With my investigation?”
“No, I think I say everything.” The way he bit his lip told me he had more he wanted to say.
“What?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I go to Paradise Isle every once in a while. I remember you standing at the door.
You don’t remember me, do you?”
“I see a lot of people.”
“Still, my feelings are abused.”
“Next time I see you, I’ll remember you. How about that?” He huffed at the meagerness of my offer. With a nod, I picked up my jacket and walked out of his apartment.
I didn’t figure I’d get much out of the people on the fifteenth floor, and I was running late, so I headed for the elevator. The elevator hadn’t been updated since the building was built. You opened a door with a handle, then slid a collapsible cage to one side. That allowed you to step into the coffin-like car. It gave a little each time you stepped in. I had the definite feeling it was going to drop fourteen floors.
When I miraculously got out on the first floor, I slipped my jacket back on, heading for the lobby. Ross wore an impatient look on his face. “What took you so long?” he asked the minute he saw me. “I’ve been waiting almost half an hour.”
“It’s a big building.”
He leaned over, sniffed me, and rolled his eyes. “Nice cologne. Whose is it?”
I hadn’t realized, but Hector’s fresh and lemony cologne was now all over me. I couldn’t help but blush.
* * *
Monday morning, I got the paper to see what they had to say about the fire at Paradise Isle, but they hardly mentioned it. There was a fire on the front page, though. A nightclub in Dublin had burned to the ground, killing forty-some people and injuring hundreds. On scale alone I could see why it was on the front page. Of course, we were local and that should have earned us at least a couple column inches in the lower front corner. But no, the Paradise Isle fire was nowhere near the front page. Toward the back of the front section, I found a two-paragraph blurb that told me even less than I already knew.
Boystown - 61
Ross had turned up the same
With his warmth surrounding me, I could feel his racing pulse beating on the base of my dick each time I paused to catch my breath. I wondered if our hearts were going to match each other.
But then I stopped thinking altogether and just fucked.
His Spanish got more intense, and I figured that meant he was about to come. I picked up my speed and fucked him all the harder. He rewarded me by clamping down his sphincter muscle while he came. It took another few minutes, but I kept fucking him until I came myself. It felt like untying a knot deep inside me.
When I stood to pull up my pants, I noticed I had a couple of angry red rug burns on my knees.
Hector stood up, cupping one hand in front of him. I realized then that he’d carefully come into his own hand. I wondered if what he’d been saying all along in Spanish was, “Don’t come on my rug.”
Hector went to wash up. I zipped my pants and realized I’d never taken off my sheepskin jacket.
I was sweating, so I went ahead and took it off. That left me in a button-down shirt with my Boystown - 60
shoulder holster holding my 9mm Sig Sauer firmly under my arm. When Hector came back into the room, he eyed my gun. “I’m glad you did not show me that before. I would come very fast.”
I smiled. “Is there anything else you can think of that might help? With my investigation?”
“No, I think I say everything.” The way he bit his lip told me he had more he wanted to say.
“What?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I go to Paradise Isle every once in a while. I remember you standing at the door.
You don’t remember me, do you?”
“I see a lot of people.”
“Still, my feelings are abused.”
“Next time I see you, I’ll remember you. How about that?” He huffed at the meagerness of my offer. With a nod, I picked up my jacket and walked out of his apartment.
I didn’t figure I’d get much out of the people on the fifteenth floor, and I was running late, so I headed for the elevator. The elevator hadn’t been updated since the building was built. You opened a door with a handle, then slid a collapsible cage to one side. That allowed you to step into the coffin-like car. It gave a little each time you stepped in. I had the definite feeling it was going to drop fourteen floors.
When I miraculously got out on the first floor, I slipped my jacket back on, heading for the lobby. Ross wore an impatient look on his face. “What took you so long?” he asked the minute he saw me. “I’ve been waiting almost half an hour.”
“It’s a big building.”
He leaned over, sniffed me, and rolled his eyes. “Nice cologne. Whose is it?”
I hadn’t realized, but Hector’s fresh and lemony cologne was now all over me. I couldn’t help but blush.
* * *
Monday morning, I got the paper to see what they had to say about the fire at Paradise Isle, but they hardly mentioned it. There was a fire on the front page, though. A nightclub in Dublin had burned to the ground, killing forty-some people and injuring hundreds. On scale alone I could see why it was on the front page. Of course, we were local and that should have earned us at least a couple column inches in the lower front corner. But no, the Paradise Isle fire was nowhere near the front page. Toward the back of the front section, I found a two-paragraph blurb that told me even less than I already knew.
Boystown - 61
Ross had turned up the same
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