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He may have been good looking at one time, but right now he seemed to me to be nothing more than an old man, not my type at all.
I looked at the old man, smiled, tilted my head in despair, and faintly asked myself, why? And then sure enough, he stood up, made his way around the bar, and sat right next me. His body was average looking, not muscular, but not soft either. "Is this seat available." "Yes, please sit." I reluctantly said. "My name is Harry," the old man said extending his hand.
I sat down, ordered a beer, and the bartender a young guy, I say around my age 25 or so, but had smooth dark skin, almost a caramel complexion, most likely from tanning, served me my drink.
He was definitely good looking, but very feminine, probably a bottom, so I knew it wouldn't work out.
We entered the lobby, and made our way to the elevator, and he hit the penthouse button. Even if his business paid for the trip, the underlings most certainly do not get a penthouse suite at the Plaza Hotel. I was seated at the edge of the couch cushion, and it was then he started to untie his rob, I made what seemed to be a loud gulp of fear, I closed my eyes, he opened the rob, he pushed the sides under his arms, at that point I opened my eyes, and what I say was completely unhuman. It had to be at least 9 inches long, and it was still flaccid.