But this guy? This wasn’t someone looking for a relationship. It was someone looking to pretend for one night only. Did I want something like that?
Hell yes.
For one night only, I could pretend to have it all. Lavishing someone with attention all night and imagining they were my special someone sounded like an interesting departure from the anonymous fucks I was used to.
I read it again as the shuttle bus pulled up.
The needy emotion pouring out of the ad did something to me. My throat tightened and my heart thunked around in my chest. Maybe this was exactly the kind of one-night stand I needed. Even if the emotions were pretend, they’d be there.
And not talking? Man, that would be a treat after the shitty flights I’d just completed. Quiet, slow fucking without strings attached or awkward small talk. I could get on board with that quite nicely, in fact.
I clicked the link to respond.
His username was NurseTee which made me assume he was a nurse. I told him I was free to meet at 8:00 p.m. if he was still interested. He quickly wrote back:
NurseTee: You’re okay with no talking?
FlyGuy: Absolutely. Have had enough talking for the day anyway.
There was a hesitation before he responded again with hotel room information and a time. A couple of hours later when I arrived at my favorite steak house downtown, I received another message.
NurseTee: You’re okay with condoms?
I smiled, wondering if this was his first anonymous hookup or something.
FlyGuy: Yes. Do you need me to bring them?
NurseTee: No. I have them. Unless… you need a special kind, or…?
I laughed again. Was he a size queen fishing for information? In hopes maybe my dick was so large I needed special-order condoms?
FlyGuy: Whatever you have is fine. See you soon.
After sitting back and enjoying a nice glass of red wine while I waited for my food to arrive, I read the news and checked some ice hockey scores on my phone. A text message from my sister, Millie, popped up.
Millie: Where are you?
Jack: Chicago. Will be back through South Bend in a few weeks. Dinner?
Millie: Yeah, sure. Kirk wanted me to ask if you heard back about that job.
My brother-in-law owned a skydiving operation and was always trying to lure me over to work for him. I wasn’t interested in that kind of work, but I had considered moving from the large airline to private charters.
I thought of the job interview I’d had the week before at Teterboro.
Jack: Not yet, but it didn’t sound like they were willing to pay enough to make it worth the switch to private.
Millie: Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you can find something closer to here.
While there were several airports in the nearby South Bend area that accommodated private jets, the opportunity for those jobs was minuscule compared to being based out of the Newark/New York area. Hell, even Chicago would be a better option. Besides, I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to move quite that close to home. I was still single and gay after all.
Jack: We’ll see.
Millie: You’re not going to get as much as a United pilot does, but think of the quality of life, Jack.
It was an argument she’d made to me many times before. Supposedly private corporate pilots had predictable schedules which made for a better work/life balance. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that considering I already had a stellar work/life balance.
I thought of my hookup app and how convenient it made my life. It was like having a universal gym membership and being able to visit any of their hundreds of locations all around the world without losing training momentum. As long as I had good books in my bag, the internet on my phone, sex on demand, and decent restaurants to feed me, well, I was pretty damned happy regardless of what city I laid my head down in.
Jack: I’m about to cut into a perfectly cooked filet before meeting a beautiful man in an expensive hotel overlooking Lake Michigan. I think my quality of life is pretty damned good, Mills.
Millie: Grindr won’t grow old with you.
Jack: Who says?
The server approached my table to ask if I wanted another glass of wine. I shook my head with a smile of thanks. While I was generally both large and strong enough to hold my own with any man I met up with, I did make a point of not hooking up with strangers while under the influence, just in case. Falling asleep and waking up without any cash left in my wallet wasn’t a risk I wanted to take.
Millie: Kirk met a cute guy at work.
I took a bite of my steak and bit back a groan of satisfaction before typing my response.
Jack: Good for him. Tell him to hit me up if he needs any tips.
Millie: Shut up. He says you’d like him. The guy plays in an amateur hockey league and has a killer body.
Jack: Your husband needs a hobby.
Millie: His name is Jefferson Plenty. He reminds me of Ty.
I took a sip of my water. It wasn’t the first time my sister had threatened to set me up with someone, but I got the sense she was serious this time if she was invoking the name of my most serious relationship.
Jack: No thank you.
Millie: He volunteers with kids in one of those Big Brother deals.
I rolled my eyes. Of course he did.
Jack: Do-gooder. Ew.
Millie: WTF. You cook for your elderly neighbor.
I thought of Elaine Stickley next door who ate cold soup straight from the can. It gave me the willies.
Jack: It’s easier to cook for two than one. She just gets my leftovers.
Millie: Liar. You’re a do-gooder too. You weed Mom’s yard every time you visit.
Jack: Only because it’s embarrassing to see the state of her lawn.
Millie: And you weed the neighbor’s lawn too.
I sighed.
Jack: They’re all slackers. Gotta go. You’re getting on my nerves.
I put my phone down and focused on enjoying the rest of my meal. I overheard a couple arguing at a nearby table about what color to paint their dining room, and I thanked my lucky stars I didn’t have either a spouse or a dining room. My loft apartment in Newark was bright and clean with huge windows and an open-floor plan. The twenty-minute bus ride to the airport was even better. Hell, I’d lived in the unit four years already and still hadn’t put any art on the walls, much less thought about changing the wall color.
I finished my meal, paid the bill, and pulled on my heavy wool coat.
Dessert was waiting for me only a few blocks away.
3
Teo
I was terrified.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and I worried I was sweating enough to stink. Also, how long was a douche supposed to last before nerves negated the effects?