So Anson released and Jorge exploded into Anson’s fist, overflowing onto the clean white sheets. “Jorge, you’re going to need to be hydrated, you just spilled so much.” With those words, he lifted his fist to Jorge’s mouth and Jorge’s tongue quickly lapped up the cum.
“Will that satisfy you?”
But Jorge wasn’t ready to relax. He stayed hard and he continued to milk Anson with his powerful ass muscles. He lifted one leg, flipped himself, and Anson landed on top—without even withdrawing—or missing a stroke. Jorge used his powerful legs to pull Anson deeper and Anson dropped onto Jorge’s chest and their lips met. Within a minute or so, Anson stiffened every muscle and deposited his load into Jorge. “Now you are good and planted. I’m going to tend to this garden all over the East. By the time we get home, you’ll be a fucking Iowa farm, harvesting little Ansons.” Jorge took him into an embrace. His hands floated down to Anson’s cheeks and Jorge squeezed.
“Dios meo, I love holding these. You can plant me anytime. I’ll always be ready.” Jorge pulled Anson into the familiar hug, wrapping his legs around Anson’s while holding Anson’s cock deep inside while his own scraped their conjoined cut abs. Seconds later, just as Anson was withdrawing, Jorge came again and coated their chests with his creamy semen. “Maybe we’ll have a few Jorgito’s running around your gorgeous chest by then as well.”
A little later, they rose, toweled down, and went into the kitchen to enjoy the food Anson had prepared. Anson had given Jorge a short Japanese- style kimono and he donned one which almost matched. This would be their dress in the apartment—and perhaps often in the hotel rooms during the trip. The robes just covered the tops of their asses and thus were always inviting and always erotic. Their dicks swung like clock pendulums as they walked.
Over dinner they talked about the trip. Anson had bought the tickets. First stop would be Tokyo. Departure was 11 days away, on the Sunday after Jorge’s leave became effective. Jorge reminded Anson that he had a three day weekend coming up. But Anson had remembered—and he had planned days of sex and shopping. He asked Jorge about his wardrobe and together they decided which items needed to be supplemented. “We can always get stuff in Hong Kong or Bangkok. Both have overnight tailors and great fabrics and workmanship.” He copied Jorge’s passport to forward to the airline.
Then Anson announced, “I’m ready. This is going to be our first real bareback love making. Earlier was just a warm-up. Leave the dishes. The maid comes tomorrow and she has little to do with almost everything packed. In fact, I think we’re going to spend the last night here in San Francisco in a hotel since the movers are coming to take the remaining stuff the day before we leave.”
“I’d invite you to my place. But, it is a garage apartment attached to my mother’s house. And I’m not sure we are ready for family yet.”
“I agree. We’ll stay at the Hyatt Regency Embarcadero. It’s only a block away from here, and they know me well. We can leave the luggage here and collect it on the way to the airport on Sunday. When I first thought of this idea—the interview of candidates for a vacation with benefits–I thought it was pretty off-the-wall, and that it probably would be a failure. I expected to be leaving alone. You have changed that—big time.”
So the guys walked back to the owners’ suite. “I think we need to change the sheets—and this time, we’re using towels.” Together they quickly remade the bed. Jorge stretched out, grabbed the metal bars of the headboard and split his legs—in complete surrender and complete invitation. Anson was ready. This time he was up for the banquet dinner. He sat on Jorge’s chest and offered his dickhead. Jorge opened and sucked it in, swirling his tongue around the head as the hood slipped back and then along the sensitive back. Anson reached back and stroked Jorge’s thick penis to full erection. It didn’t take much. Jorge was ever-ready. Then he dropped down, lifted Jorge’s ass and his tongue plunged into the cum-flavored cavern. Jorge sucked in his breath, raised his legs, and trapped Anson into the space, but soon began to writhe in passion. Anson lubed, placed Jorge’s calves on his shoulders, rolled him up, and began the slow descent, being sure to scrape and crowd the prostate with each stroke in and out. Jorge drew his ab muscles tight, getting ready to shoot. Anson noticed and this time he was going to let Jorge do the work. He plunged deep while taking Jorge’s shaft in his fist, and as Jorge began to spasm, his anal muscles stroked Anson to climax. This time it was simultaneous.
Once again Anson dropped to Jorge’s chest and Jorge used arms and legs to cocoon his on-top lover. Both guys immediately fell into a deep sleep, which of course a few hours later was interrupted by Jorge’s phone alarm. It was time to dress and leave for work. And he had promised to spill the beans to Sarah. He wondered how much he would disclose.
Jorge rose leaving Anson in the bed. Minutes later, showered and dressed, he brought coffee to Anson and kissed him awake. “See you Friday morning, babe. I’m going to work out and then have dinner with Mama on Thursday. I need to explain the change of plans.”
“I’d like to be the proverbial fly during that conversation.”
“She knows I’m gay. She knows I planned to go to Yellowstone. I don’t think it will be a difficult talk. But, I think she is coming to the conclusion that when I returned from Yellowstone, I planned to move out. She understands that this is the beginning of the end. She is about to lose her baby boy. I need to have my own place and I planned to get one after the leave. Fortunately, two of my sisters live in the neighborhood, and she is the always-there babysitter for her grandchildren. She’s not going to be alone.”
“Are you going to tell her about us?”
“Probably not—although she will wonder where the money came from to do Asia instead of Yellowstone.”
“I don’t mind. You can talk about us. But, I don’t insist. Do what comes naturally. I’m certainly not ashamed of you—and my friends all know that I’m bi.”
The next weekend was one of the best that Anson had experienced in years. Jorge joined him late Friday morning and they planned “just to be together.” There was shopping to be done, but Anson was not a shopper—he, like most men, was a buyer. He knew what he wanted and where to get it. He assumed Jorge felt the same way. Shopping took only a few hours. The most time consuming was the conversion of their cells for use in Asia—requiring three different chips. Almost everything they needed would be delivered to the condo within a few days—including luggage. Anson was pleased that Jorge was a light traveler—each would have one medium roller case and a backpack. Hotels had laundries and major Asian cities were equipped to outfit any clothing needs. Besides, Anson hoped they would be mostly nude and in each other’s arms. They dined each day at a different one of Anson’s San Francisco favorites, took long walks along the Embarcadero, worked out each day—in Jorge’s gym since the condo did not have one, and spent most of the rest of the time in bed, making love, preparing for it, or coming down from it. They were like insatiable teenage honeymooners.