More on that.

I followed his directions to the hotel. Bad directions, I might add. Luckily, I know the area well enough to feel confident and overcame the incorrect direction arriving quite quickly at the lobby. He'd given me directions to his room and without hesitation I knocked.

The man that answered the door was far more attractive, masculine, and somehow... younger than I imagined. He invited me in and I made myself comfortable, trying to recover from the extreme cold outside and my nervousness. He poured some wine and he sat down on the love seat, myself on the chair and talked. As I sat in the chair I briefly wondered if I should have taken the loveseat, too, but decided it was just slightly more intimate than I was comfortable with, yet. The wine and the conversation flowed and it wasn't long before I was sprawled across the chair nearly boneless, tipsy, and warm.

He said something to me about his work the next day, and then told me "here... turn around and put your feet up here" as I was sprawled out facing away from him. I didn't move, my brain putting together his last sentence (about work) with his current sentence and seeing nothing in it for me. He repeated himself at last reaching out and bodily starting to move me (gently but insistently). I laughed, realization dawning. "You meant ME... NOW... in REAL LIFE!" He laughed at me, "yes" and I moved.

He took my foot in his hand and began to massage it. I relaxed, and he asked me if I liked it. "Well, yes... it's not bad... but I admit I am a little numb in the extremities..." He sighed, disappointed. "This is my bread and butter," he said, going back to work. I laughed, "I'm so sorry. Normally I adore it... I really do like it even now... just not as much as I really SHOULD." As he continued his administrations I became more relaxed. His hands moved up my body toward my thighs... then onto the next leg. By the time he was done there was really no question that we were going to go to bed together. He got up for water and when he returned he told me "time for your back." I sat there blankly and he took my hand, helping me up and toward the bedroom.

At this point I really wasn't drunk. I was somewhere between being tipsy and drunk. Still in control of my facilities... but not really so much of the finer points of dexterity. He led me to the bed and I lay down. He joined me quickly and began to guide me onto my stomach before stopping me, "you know... I just... I have to do this..." he moved closer, his body hovering over mine, "...do you mind?" he asked, stopping well short of kissing me. "No, I don't mind at all..." I responded and his lips came down over mine.

Every man has his own kissing style. Some I appreciate, some I do not. I like a lot of lip. I like a good firm kiss. Not too much teasing. Keith's kissing style was something I've never experienced before. His tongue is insistent, long, strong, and he's not shy with it. There was nothing of lizard tongue or tonsil hockey. He likes to use his tongue to excite and entice... and never overstays his welcome. His tongue explored my mouth, my neck, my ears... all my most tender, sensitive spots and I couldn't stop moaning in response to each heated touch of tongue and lip.

He moved more fully over me and helped take off my shirt. Shortly after that, my bra followed and he began to play with my breasts. In all my life I've known many men who claim to be breast men. They enjoy looking at breasts, and touching them... but none have really relished them the way Keith did. This was the sort of response I'd imagined in my head so many times... god knows where I got the idea from but his excitement was beyond evident and was well appreciated by myself.

After several minutes he seemed to gather himself together and pulled away advising me to turn over. He helped divest me of my pants and then straddled me, his strong fingers kneading my back. I could feel his cock resting firmly between my butt cheeks and I quickly forgot what his hands were doing in favor of arching myself to feel his hardness more fully. I'm sure he continued his back massage but truly, I was focused on the feel of his cock, which he thrust against me every time he moved.