Hot and muggy, not a dry heat, but very, very moist, the hot air current tickling the hair on his arm as is swept across his skin. Jon was waiting in the parking garage with several security personnel. Waiting for Richie to join them so they could go back to the hotel.
It was pitch black beyond the concrete buttress he was leaning against, about ten yards from the car. He leaned over and looked down, about four stories from the ground. A few people milling about down there, he couldn�t tell if they were staff or other.
The security people were chatting amongst themselves, two men and a woman, smoking. He wished he had not tossed his pack of cigarettes into his bag which was now in the trunk. He was ready to go. Now.
He heard a scuffle of footsteps and looked up. Finally, Richie had appeared from the steel double doors leading to the garage. Jon stepped away from the fresh air and toward the car. One of the men opened the car door and Richie slid into the back seat, Jon right after him.
�What the fuck took you so long?� Jon whined.
�Sorry, got stopped by a couple of lingering young ladies, they were crazy. And drunk,� Richie snorted.
�What the fuck are you talkin� about?� Jon didn�t believe Richie would have partaken of anything, neither had done such a thing in a while.
�They tried real hard to hook up with me but Roger took care of �em. Gotta give 'em credit though, they were being very creative,� Richie laughed nodded toward the hulking body guard seated in the front of the car next to the driver.
The car began its descent from the stifling garage and into the blackness of night toward the hotel. They arrived a few minutes later. It wasn't very far from the venue, both being downtown. The city they were in had a reputation as a party town and right now, their hotel was living up to that reputation. There were people everywhere outside and from what he could see, inside as well.
�This place have a bar?� Jon asked, not really asking if the hotel had a bar, but exactly where was it? He was still a little wired and needed to wind down some before heading up to his room. Roger did a little recon and came back reporting that the bar was clear enough.
Jon snugged his baseball cap, hooking his sunglasses onto the neck of his t-shirt and got out of the car. Roger guided them to the next floor of the hotel and into the hotel�s bar. It was a sports bar, walls covered with sports team paraphernalia, two large televisions blaring something on ESPN.
Jon and Richie took a seat at a table near the dark mahogany and brass bar. There were several small parties of people scattered amongst the tables, it was a rather large place. Some of the people were still sober enough to notice them as they came in and they quickly pointed this out to their group.
Jon examined the football helmet that was under an acrylic case next to his table. It was a Giants helmet autographed by Phil Simms. He and Richie both ordered Coronas and ignored the attention they seemed to be getting from one of the other tables. Roger had stationed himself at the bar about ten feet away and remained on alert.
As he knew inevitably would happen, a few of the other bar patrons made their way over to their table. Jon nodded to Roger that it was ok, but he still wasn't in the mood for chitchat. It was an effort for him to participate in the conversation. Richie seemed to sense this and made motions to leave after he drained the last of his beer.
After so many hotels, they all looked alike to Jon, but this particular one he remembered well. They entered the elevator and he turned his back on Roger and faced Richie. Richie knew exactly what Jon was thinking. They'd had themselves a little thrill in this same glass elevator a while back.
They exchanged glances and then Jon turned to face the glass, watching as the ground shrunk below. He could feel the swell increasing in his jeans and he tried hard to suppress the thoughts racing through his mind. The doors opened and Roger stepped out and held the doors until he looked in both directions down the hallway then signaled all was clear.
They stepped out of the car into the hallway, Roger watched them for a moment then stepped back into the car. Jon turned around and watched the elevator doors close. Richie had gone a few more steps before he noticed that Jon had stopped. He turned around and saw Jon heading back in the other direction.
"Hey, rooms are this way," he said.
Jon turned to face Richie and said with a smile, "I know, I don't want to go to the room yet."
"Oh 'scuse the shit outta me," Richie followed him down the long hallway until they reached the door to the stairwell.
"What floor is this?" Jon asked.
"I dunno, 42nd?" Richie glanced at a door and saw 4224, "Yeah, 42nd floor."
Jon peered into the small glass window of the door into the dimly lit stairway. He didn't see anyone. He slowly opened the door and went in, Richie close behind. The stairwell was not illuminated very well, obviously the emergency lighting was off for now. Must be automatically turned on when needed, Jon thought.
No one in this town had use for stairs, everyone stumbled drunken onto escalators, elevators and conveyor belt-like people movers to get where they were going.
Probably very slim chance of being detected here . . . he turned to Richie and said, "I dare you to give me a blow job right here."
"Dammit, fuck, I was gonna say that!" Richie exclaimed.
"Ah, too late, me first," Jon said and started walking up the next flight of stairs, stopping at about the fifth step.
Even though they both had beautiful, loving wives and families, they had done everything known under the sun in their years in this business and sometimes they just needed the extra adrenaline rush of doing something most would consider forbidden or dangerous.
Richie and Jon didn�t get to play this game often, but when they did, it was, well, the best sex they ever had.
Jon looked up and saw that the next floor was the last floor, probably went to the roof or mechanical area of the building. No guest rooms above the floor his room was on. He turned and sat down, leaning back on his elbows, legs spread.
Richie knelt on the steps below Jon and leaned forward, planting a wet kiss on Jon's lips, tongues clashing. Richie pulled Jon's t-shirt up and quickly undid Jon's jeans, releasing the thick hot hard on that had been forcing its way up toward his waistband. Richie stroked it a few times with his fingers, smearing the precum over the tip before he licked it with his tongue.
Jon let out a gasp and dropped his head backwards, his baseball cap falling off. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of hot tongue on his hotter flesh. Richie closed his lips around the head and continued working his tongue over it, letting more of it slide into his mouth. Jon began to moan softly and push his hips up off the hard concrete steps. Richie felt the fullness of Jon in his throat and he swallowed, making Jon involuntarily thrust his hips forward again.
"Shit . . . Rich . . . do . . .that again," Jon stammered breathlessly. Richie complied, this time letting the hard hot flesh slip a little. Jon growled as he felt his orgasm building, however, the sound of voices and a door slamming brought all motion to a halt.
"Are you sure we got off on the wrong floor?" they heard a tipsy female voice titter.
"It's the next floor," another equally drunk female answered.
"Fuck," Jon whispered under his breath, his eyes flew open and he leaned forward to grasp Richie's head to keep it still. He tried to peer over the edge of the stairs but couldn't lean far enough.
"Up, we need to go up." The women started giggling as they began to ascend the steps. Jon held his breath and Richie's head, his hard on still in Richie's mouth as they listened to the footsteps get closer. Jon hesitated, not wanting to let go of Richie, hoping that they were farther below them than they sounded.
His heart hammering, he pushed his hips up a little, signaling Richie to continue, he had been so close to coming, he didn't want to stop now. Richie began to slowly move his mouth up and down Jon's hard on again, feeling it become harder again after losing a bit of momentum.
"Here, this is it." They heard a door open, more giggling, and the door slamming.
"God dammit," Jon exasperated, leaned back on the step again. Richie once again let the hot thickness run down his throat and he clenched his teeth slightly and let them rake up and down, setting the nerve endings on fire. Jon held his breath as he climaxed, shooting deep into Richie's throat. He let out the full capacity of his lungs and dropped back on the hard steps, his chest pounding.
"Fuck, that was close," he said.
"I was wondering how long you were gonna fuckin' wait," Richie laughed as he sat back and wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He stood up and reached a hand out to Jon. Jon grabbed it and stood. He zipped up as he walked down the steps.
"Got a little surprise for you when we get back to the rooms," Jon said in a low voice.
"Can't wait," Richie said as he put his arm around Jon's shoulder and they walked down the hall. As they passed the bank of elevators, they heard a ding and a set of doors opened and two women stepped out. They were obviously drunk and seemed oblivious to the two men as they passed them and went in the opposite direction, talking loudly and laughing.
Jon looked back at them shaking his head, then sneaked a nibble at Richie's ear before stopping at his door. The two women, apparently the same lost two, disappeared into a room, their door slamming shut.
Richie opened the door to his room, "After you," he motioned Jon in.
"Why thank you," Jon entered before Richie and the door closed behind them