When a thirty-something-year-old comes across a “Cigar Daddy” while checking on his latest investment, he soon realize that he is old enough to be that sexy dad to some younger guy he picks up at the bar. After he has his fun with this younger man out in a parking lout, he is rewarded in kind with sexy daddy he most desires.
“Damn smoke-free hotel got me out here this late at night.” He murmured the second I thought stepped out of the danger zone.
It was instinct I cocked my head back towards him, like watching a bad accident about to happen and lacking the willpower to turn away.
“Huh?” I stopped.
He repeated himself, still steamed that he thought hotels like ours had smoking rooms for guests, if not a smoking lounge to enjoy a nice cognac. I agreed. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out another cheroot from his portable humidor and offered it to me.
I reached for it reluctantly. I was fervent for his chunky digits to graze mine. I smoke, but I wasn’t much of a smoker. I didn’t know a culebra from a corona even with the guide lessons from my best friend and other cigar aficionados, which lead to another tutorial from him–which I didn’t mind one bit.
His name was Lux. He was in town for his brother’s wedding. He said it so melancholy I didn’t pry at his sore spot. He’s straight, I figured in dismay. Perhaps he was one of those boys still licking his wounds that his crappy brother accumulated dream wife, kids, and white picket that he wanted. So I was floored when Lux circled back to cutting out of the bachelor early when his father sent over the stripper to give him a lap dance.
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked out of curiosity. What? She wasn’t your type, stud?
The thick milky fog escaped Lux’s mouth into the murky night and ever so slowly he gave a fleeting look to my rear end, and said in dark sexy tones, “With a phat booty like that, I’d rather get a lap dance from you than her.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t have heard him correctly. He was joking, right?
Lux smirked knowingly, enjoying my bewilderment.
“My father’s known about me since I had the college recruiter palming his soles, but he’s still holding out for that day I’ll ‘change my mind’ for a nice pair of heavy knocker.”
“Will ya?” I joshed trying to recover from this sudden revelation.
“Why don’t you invite me up to your room and find out for yourself?”
I tittered. “What am I going to do? Motorboat you with my ass?”