Twice so far. These things just keep happening to me! Really.
Tall guy, well-suited, not attractive to me, not unattractive, just there, casually known in the company. One business lunch a space salesman had been plying me with drinks, I guess I obliged and it showed. Going back to work in the elevator I ran into Mr. Circulation. I'd never looked at him before. Somehow, we didn't get off at 12 but rode up to 15 "to check out" new space we were soon to take on that empty floor. In some mid-corridor large office we did it standing up, went back to work. He had a huge, fat dick. Who knew?
Mail room guy! I went down to push a job I had in, somehow ended up being shown the collation machine, the progress of the job, by a hot black guy. I think he was just our of school. Very skater-like, very Anton Apolo Ohno, but young. Our fingers, hands, kept touching as he proudly showed me his machine. I took him home that night. We had sex on the couch. Saw him a couple of times. That I know of, no one I know or he know knows of it. Near Christmas I gave him something for his â¦. I don't even know where or how he lives â¦ he said "oh, boy, you're gong to be trouble for me." I see him with girls now all the time.
Not office, but elephant man. Central Park Zoo one lunch, hot ginger-haired stud carrying two buckets of feed. He took me to the brick service building between the birds and the elephants. Hot time!
Not office or zoo but LIRR. I saw this tall blond guy last February with an older man at East Hampton Waldbaum's. Other than he was hot, thought little of it. Going in on the late Sunday train, coach almost empty, he sat opposite me and begin fondling himself. We beat off across the asile! Later he went into another car. I thought I was to follow so we could talk and really connect. Lost him.
Staten Island Ferry? Heard the few old ships had bathrooms and stuff could happen. Maybe just the one now. I found a few people sitting. Not for me. Once alone at trough a worker came in, took me into some enclosed motor room down where the cars were. Real working-class married guy. Fun.
Who needs Chelsea?
Am I doomed to the life of a slut?