I was working as a sales rep covering all of New England year round. I don't know if you are familiar with upstate New Hampshire, but it can be a wild place in the dead of winter. My last stop for the day was in St. Johnsbury, VT and I wanted to be in Portland, ME the next day. I started out a little later than normal, but was use to night driving. This was also by choice because it put me into Littleton, NH around dinner time. There was a motel just off I-93 and Rt302. Nothing much to look at, but it had a great dinner buffet. If I could I always tried to hit it.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed snow clouds up over the mountains. Heading down to Portland would take me up over Crawford Notch and right up to Mount Washington, not an area you wanted to travel in bad weather. I went into to the registration desk and the clerk was listening to the weather update. I asked what was ahead. He said it didn't look good, travel advisories were already posted and there was talk of closing the Notch due to slippery conditions.
I paid for the buffet and went into the dinning room. It was fairly well packed with locals this night, but I got a small table near the patio window. As I was eating, I noticed the snow starting to fall a little heavy. Most of the diners finished and cleared out worried about the coming storm. I realized I was going to have to get a room for the night. The clerk was familiar with me, and had my registration all filled in when I finished dinner. He said "I figured you would need a room as they have upped the snowfall forecast to near blizzard conditions." I headed down to the room. The TV reception was lousy, and this was before cable. I had two choices for entertainment, the indoor swimming pool or the lounge. It was going to be a while before I could go swimming, an hour after dinner. So I headed up to the bar.
It was quiet there too. Only one other customer, a fellow salesman nursing a drink. I took a seat at the bar and ordered a screwdriver. The bar tender, George, said "Just to let you know. We are going to close up in about an hour to beat the storm home." I asked if it was possible to get a couple of drinks to take back to the room, but State Law forbid it. I then asked if I could just buy some orange juice as I had my own vodka. He said it wasn't allow, but since I was a regular; he would make an exception. The other guy at the bar spoke up "Wish I had thought ahead like you." I suggested he come back to the room with me as I hated to drink alone. He said great, and opted to pay for the jar of orange juice. On the way back, we raided the vending machine for chips and nuts, and ice.
Back in the room, I broke out the plastic glasses and bottle of Absolute Vodka. We talked for a while with the TV in the background, the usual salesmen bullshit session about our best sales, etc. I noticed his wedding ring, and asked about his wife. He made the usual complaints about finances and lack of good sex. After about half an hour I got up to mix another drink, he said he had to go to the bathroom. I said sure. He wobbled as he stood up, and I grabbed him to steady him. He said "Thanks, buddy. I don't want to fall and bust my ass." and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. When he got the bathroom, he left the door open. He muttered something I couldn't hear so I walked over to the door. As he pissed, he moved around to the side of the bowl to face me. His 5" cut dick was fully visible. I asked what he had said. He remarked the vodka was making him warm and asked if I minded him taking off his shirt. I said "Whatever makes you comfortable."
When he came out of the bathroom, he had taken off his jacket and shirt, and unbuckled his pants with the zipper still open. He remarked that he was feeling the pressure of the buffet. I said "I know what you mean. I'm afraid if I bend over, I'll split the ass of my pants." His response was simple "Hell, it's your room. Get comfortable. I don't give a shit." I figured I'd see how far this was going to go. I removed my shirt and undershirt before unsnapping my pants. His eyes followed my every movement. I knew the look. I figured it was time to go for broke. I shucked my pants, standing there in just my BVDs. He remarked on my trim body. Meeting all my sales quotas might keep me on the run, but it kept the fat off too. He said he was worried he was putting on a spare tire. I said it didn't show. His response was "You haven't seen me naked." I took the bait and shot back "Well, if you want any honest opinion, get naked." That was all the encouragement he needed.
Now, I know we had only had two drinks each and the whole staggering and all was just an act to start some action. As he stood there naked, I walked around him like a farmer examining a bull for purchase. I said "You are getting a very small bulge. Just need a little exercise. As long as this sticks out beyond your stomach who cares." As I said those final words, I reached over and grabbed his cock. I pulled it forward as if to measure how far beyond his stomach it extended. He groaned in pleasure and closed his eyes. I put my arm around him and kissed him on the lips. His lips parted and his tongue sought out mine. I continued to stroke his dick, feeling it rise up to a thick 6". I guided him back to the bed and pushed him down on it. I quickly shucked my underwear and crawled atop him. He was a passionate kisser, and roamed his hands over my back and ass as we spit dueled.
I sat up and asked what he was into. He said he wasn't into ass fucking but would love to 69 with me. I spun around and laid on the bed beside him, dick to mouth. I licked the shaft of his rod drawing more heat into it. Pursing my lips, I slid his meat into my mouth. Holding just the head inside, I swirled my tongue over the sensitive head. I drilled my tongue tip into his piss slit and was rewarded with a drop of pre-cum. Still keeping just the head in my mouth with my tongue caressing the underside of it, I began to jack the remainder of his shaft with one hand while I fiddle with his balls with the other. His method was a little less refined, he just dove down my shaft and used his lips to set up a fucking motion. Crude but effective. After a couple of minutes, I warned him I was getting ready to blow, and he pulled off. He started jacking my dick to finish me off with the head pointed away. I shot my load onto my leg and across the mattress. My slower motions kept him going for a while longer. He also warned me that he was going to cum. My response was to dive deep on the shaft and shake my head. He groaned and grabbed the back of my head as he lurched forward shooting thick wads of sweet cum.
After we finished, I reached over to kiss him but he pulled away. "Sorry," he said " but I'm not really into tasting cum." I assured him it was no problem. After a short rest, we got dressed again. We exchanged business cards, and swore to get together again. We did cross paths several times and always ended up in bed. Before he got transferred west, I finally had the joy of shooting a load down his throat. He never got off his ass hang ups though, and he always bitched about his wife.
