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ALL THE WAY HOME

Diesel

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ALL THE WAY HOME

 

 

 

I was at a conference and medical equipment show in New Orleans and while down at the pool for an early morning swim I met a man in his mid 20’s that looked to be of Russian descent. His name was Dennis. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and a very buff, big muscular body that was totally shaved from the neck down. He was about 6’2” and had an amazing ass.

 

We had a fairly short chat about sports and exchanged info before we agreed to meet for a drink in the late evening. After a long day of presentations I showered and had supper. I was flipping through TV channels when Dennis called asked if he could come over. Of course I said yes and he showed up at my door about 10 minutes later. The guy wasn’t really dressed like I expected, but I found him quite hot. Literally! He was just coming from the gym so he was dressed in sweats still dripping with sweat and man musk which filled the room when I closed the door. He lifted off his shirts and his physique was really pumped. I offered him something to drink and he asked for water.

 

He asked to take a shower as he stuffed his wet smelly clothes into a plastic laundry bag. He sat and took off his shoes and then lowered the sweatpants adding them to the bag. I ran my hands over his arms and pecs as he flexed for me. I expected a stud like him to be a real alpha but he told me he was a total bottom and thought all day about being fucked by me. This was definitely my kind of guy!

 

He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed after I assured him he would get the fucking of his life. He stripped naked and then he went in and took a quick shower. I got on the bed wearing just my boxer briefs with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit. He came out of the bathroom naked and I focused on his big juicy 8-inch cock. His dick was getting bigger, harder, and longer as he walked toward me. He crawled up on the bed and started licking my cock through my briefs.

 

“I thought you’d be naked,” he said before he ripped them off.

 

He sucked my cock for a while and then we kissed while I worshiped his huge physique. I fingered his ass and realized he was already lubed.  He grabbed a condom and put it on me. He lubed my cock and he guided my cock to the target before he sat down on it taking all seven inches at once.

 

His cock was hard as he rode my dick. I ran my hands over is body and he moaned, begging for more as I thrust up into him. When he was close to cumming he would lean down to kiss me.

 

Then we switched positions, he got on his back and I started fucking him missionary style. I started kissing him and he wanted me to fuck him harder and by then I was drenched in sweat and so was he. We switched again, and I took him doggie style, fucking him hard until I filled the condom with cum.

 

Then we lay on the bed for the longest time talking and stroking each other’s body. My cock never quite went soft and neither did his. After a time he started stroking my meat again and he got me totally hard. He finally grabbed another condom and put it on me, lubed me up, and got back on top to ride me, again taking my cock up his ass in one swift movement. I grabbed some lube and greased up his big cock, jacking him while he rode me until he sprayed cum all over my chest.

 

We lay together talking and then he led me to the shower to get cleaned up. Soaping up his body was almost like sex for me. I watched as he got dressed in clean clothes from his gym bag and he seemed reluctant to go. He lingered to kiss me and tell me how hot I was.

 

Every day we exchanged vague brief texts all during the ten day conference and show. Every night Dennis was in my room or I was in his for hot sex. We often lay in bed talking about our dreams and goals. We talked about being together and possibilities for the future.

 

After I got home I tried to text him and even call him but my calls went directly to voice mail. I left messages as if I was following up on a sales lead but they went unanswered. Then when the mailbox was full I couldn’t even do that. Eventually there was a ‘this number is no longer in service’ message when I called.

 

The phone may have been lost or maybe something happened to him on the way home. Surely Dennis would replace the phone if he was alive. Weeks went by and life went on. I was flying all over the county getting signed contracts from leads I got at the show. It looked like I would be the top salesman in the company but the victory was hollow because I realized I had fallen in love and life was empty.

 

It took all the strength I had to act enthusiastic at the company awards banquet. As top salesman I gave a rousing thank you speech about never giving up knowing I was getting on a plane in a few hours to go look for Dennis in California.

 

Before dawn the next morning I was closing my carry-on bag when my phone rang. It was a (601) area code followed by a number I didn’t know. I had been getting calls about lowering my interest rate on my credit cards and I had asked them to remove me from their call list. It was time they took me off the call list so I answered.

 

“This is Dennis,” he said and I fell to my knees. “I am using a borrowed cell phone. I’m still in New Orleans… Hello? Mark?”

 

“I’m here,” I croaked out.

 

“Mark, my boss called me to the restaurant in the Hilton and fired me after you left. They took my phone, company credit cards, rental car, and even my plane ticket. I was mugged and shot at the edge of the French Quarter. Now I don’t even have an ID or personal credit cards. I have been in the hospital and this guy let me use his phone. I didn’t know who else to call…” his voice trailed off.

 

“Get to the airport and go to Southwest airlines. There will be a ticket in your name… Spell your last name. Go to the Hilton where we were staying and get the shuttle to the airport.” My mind was going faster than I could talk. “Dennis? I love you.” I said. I heard a sob. “I’ll be at the airport waiting for you,” I told him.

 

“I’ll get him to the airport,” a strange voice said. “He’s really messed up,” the guy said quietly.

 

“Take him to Southwest Airlines and I’ll have a ticket waiting for him.”

 

“You are a good brother. My brother wouldn’t do this for me,” he said. I began to wonder what Dennis told the man so he would let Dennis make the call.

 

“I wish I could reward you,” I offered.

 

“No reward needed,” he said and we said goodbye.

 

I went to Midway Airport as soon as I bought the ticket. There were flights arriving almost every hour and if I was lucky he would be here by noon but I had no way to know what flight he was on since he didn’t have a phone. I waited outside of the TSA checkpoint. I got worried when the 5:40 pm flight arrived and he wasn’t on the plane. I was eating a sandwich when my phone rang.

 

“Is this Mr. Mark Hanson?” the voice asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“We have a gentleman trying to claim a ticket you purchased but he has no identification. We can’t let him on the plane without ID.”

 

“How many people named Dennis Selikoff do you think there are in the United States? (There was only one) Look up his facebook page for picture ID. Look he was mugged and his wallet was taken. I sent him a ticket to Chicago. He was shot and mugged,” I said with a steady but angry voice.

 

“I’ll take this to my supervisor but chances are not good,” and the guy hung up. I couldn’t even beg him to call me back with news one way or the other. My stomach flipped and I couldn’t eat anymore. The last flight until six in the morning came in at 12:15 am and as the stragglers headed for baggage claim I turned to leave. Did I have to send him a fake ID? Did I have to charter a jet to go get him? Drive to New Orleans to pick him up?

 

“MARK!” I heard. I swiveled and almost lost my balance. Dennis was handcuffed to a wheelchair and he looked like shit warmed over.

 

“Can you identify this man?” the cop asked.

 

“His name is Dennis Selikoff. Are handcuffs necessary?” I asked as I showed them pictures of Dennis and me together in New Orleans. The cop removed the handcuffs. The porter brought Dennis to my car. I handed him a $50 dollar bill for his service.

 

“I had to get a photo copy of my driver’s license from the DMV in California. TSA still treated me like a criminal,” he said softly.

 

I sat behind the wheel and started the car. Before I could put it in gear the tears began to flow and I wept. His hand gently touched my back and when we tried to hug the seatbelts wouldn’t let us. He started to laugh and I smiled through my tears. He kissed my forehead because that was all he could reach without being in pain. I released my belt and kissed him properly and tenderly.

 

“I’d go through this all again to be here with you at this moment,” he said as he touched my face.

 

“I should have just chartered a jet to go get you,” I said.

 

“You wouldn’t do that!” he mocked.

 

“I thought about it,” I admitted. I didn’t tell him I thought about it at 7pm last night and again at midnight when he didn’t show up.

 

“You did too much…” he choked up.

 

“I’d do it all again and more to have you here with me right now,” I said before I kissed him again. “Now to your new home,” I said as I clicked the seatbelt in place. I smiled and held his hand almost all the way home.

 

 

 

Photo: HARDTRAINER01

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