December 4, 2020

It was anon; no info exchanged except pics of our bodies. He was in a hotel down by the river, room 4206. I crept into the lobby with my mask on – I hadn’t been to a hotel in months. Nobody payed attention to me; there wasn't a temperature check or anything.

I saw one business guy in the hall who passed me and didn’t make eye contact. I was alone in the elevator. His door was propped open. He'd left just the bathroom light on so I could barely see him, on all fours on the bed, ass at the edge. He wore a light-colored jockstrap and that was all. His body looked as good as he’d advertised, smooth skin and rounded muscle, a bubble butt spread wide. Two wrapped condoms lay next to him, a pump-neck container of lube, a bottle of poppers.

I took off my mask then stripped. I didn’t usually get naked, before, in these situations, but I didn't know when I was going to do this again. He’d laid out his rumpled business suit on a chair – it looked like a silhouette in the dim light, his second skin. Expensive laptop, shiny shoes. The room smelled clean. I was aware that I was sharing air space with him – that, with some bad luck, he could hurt me...inadvertently end my life, or me his. It was only the second time I’d hooked up into this pandemic. I was starting to relax some of my own restrictions. I was trying to get back to normal.

He didn’t turn his head or say anything as I approached him. I laid my palm on that solid, warm ass and leaned closer. The hole was too inviting – or maybe it was the clean smell of it – and I got on my knees and moved toward it with my tongue. He groaned when it hit, a groan that was almost a sigh. He tasted so good and I dug my tongue deeper into him, my cock hardening. I felt the scratchy pouch of his jock: he was hard, too.

I stood. He wore a backwards baseball cap and it looked like he had a beard which was trimmed up. I let my cock rest against his ass crack and dragged it across his hole. Then I unwrapped the gold foil from the condom and unrolled it down my cock.

“Fuck yeah,” he whispered, and went to uncap a bottle of poppers he held in his hand. His phone was right above his head, and I thought of the moment where he’d seen my text - “on elevator”- let go of his phone, and took a breath, knowing that in a moment some faceless person would be fucking him.

I lubed up, I picked up his other bottle of poppers and uncapped them. We took a hit at the same time, our intake of breath echoing in the bottle, up into our nostrils. The cap went back on and I tossed the bottle on the bed. My cock was right there, I pressed it to him and his hole devoured it. I felt the poppers come up, time bending, the moment of my cock entering him for the first time seemed to extend. Then I began to fuck him.

He raised his head a bit and I saw the side of his jaw as he turned slightly and said “Fuck yeah, man.”

“Fuck, that ass feels good,” I muttered.

“It’s all yours man,” he said. I slid out. I slowly slid in, held it deep. He groaned and said, “Yeah man, fuck me.” How many times have I heard those words? They still did the trick: that invitation to use someone, to take pleasure from them and give it at the same time. He took another hit of poppers as I got into the fuck. I intended to take my time. I wanted to enjoy it. He was on the same page and we traded dirty encouragement in the dark.

“Goddamn that cock feels so good,” he said, and I reached under to feel his hard cock again, which led to me moving my arm up his solid stomach, his smooth and muscled chest. He raised his torso and I pulled him into me: my chest to his back, my face inching closer to his neck. I could hear his breath. I kissed his neck and he turned his face to mine. Our lips met and we kissed, tongues mingling.

“Fuck I’m close,” I said once I’d broke the kiss and he turned his face away again.

“Don’t cum yet,” he said, putting a hand on my hip. He moved so that my cock slid out of him, and then reached behind. His hand found the base of my cock, the rubber ring, and he pulled at it.

“What are you doing?” I said, my face still next to his.

“I want to feel you raw,” he said, the condom snapping off of my cock. “I want you to cum in me.” He held my bare dick and took it back inside of himself. We both groaned. I let it sit there, the barrier between us removed. I hadn’t fucked someone bare in years. But here was my breath in his and his in mine – we’d already broken that taboo, what was one more?

“Fuck you feel so fucking good,” I said as I humped into him, wrapping my elbow around his neck and pulling me into him.

“Cum in me, man. Shoot it inside,” he said, and we kissed as I did just that. But the kiss kept going even after I came. Someone I wound up on the bed next to him. His cap got knocked off and our bodies pressed together. I ripped off his jock strap and stroked his cock with my lubed hand. In the dim light of the room we looked at each other’s faces and eyes. His were brown. He was gorgeous. We looked at each other intently. And then he started to cum in my hand, jets that flew up over us and landed on our bodies.

“I didn’t expect that,” I said, panting.

“Me neither,” he said, and we laughed, and then we kissed some more and my cock got hard again. There was no point in putting a condom on this time. We fucked for over an hour – he rode me for some of it. I fucked him on his back for a while. Always kissing, and staring into each other’s eyes. There were all these unspoken things going on in that look – trust, acceptance, lust. I couldn’t get enough of it. There was a connection.

“Stay here,” he said after I’d cum in him a second time.

“You mean stay the night?” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Fuck me all night.”

So I did. I curled up with him in bed and held him and kissed him until we were both hard and we fucked again. The third load seemed to satisfy us for a bit, that was when we started talking. I found out he was single, like me. When we realized that we kind of looked at each other for a moment and I felt this feeling well up in my chest that I wasn’t sure about. He was from Mississippi, had lived there his whole life.

“What kind of work do you do?” he asked me.

“I work for the USPS,” I said. “Government job. Sorting and logistics, it’s stressful. Especially lately, with the lack of funding and everything.”

“Hm,” he said.

“What do you do?” I said.

“I do research for a policy institute,” he said.

“Policy institute?” I said.

“A think tank,” he said, and I nodded like I understood what that was.

“You’ll have to come visit me down in Jackson,” he said, pressing his body close to mine. “Meet my dog.”

“I’d like that,” I said, and my cock was getting hard again so we went for a fourth round, his ass gripping my cock just like it was meant to be there. He rode me, I reached up and pinched his tits as he did. He came all over my chest and smiled as he fell down on my body, his cum gluing us together. I tried to curb the rush of crazy thoughts I was having: that maybe I’d really met someone, that this could be the start of something.

We held each other, light escaping the heavy curtains getting brighter. I looked at the unused condom that had fallen off onto the floor, his red baseball cap, his jockstrap, my clothes strewn along the far wall.

“You wanna get breakfast?” he said.

“Like room service?” I said.

“There’s a restaurant downstairs,” he said.

“Oh – I’m not really going to restaurants,” I said. “Too dangerous.” His body, which had been effortlessly connected to mine, stiffened.

He moved away from me a little as he let out his breath and began to speak. "You don't really believe that stuff, do you?" he said. “One of the reasons I booked this hotel is because they don’t have any...fucking...mask mandates."

“Oh," I said. I couldn't help it, I thought of my grandma, dying alone three months earlier. But here I was. Taking a chance with someone also taking chances. 

I wrapped my arm around his chest and pulled him close to me, then I held him tight until we both exhaled. Neither of us said anything. I wanted to live in that moment before we inevitably separated.