I wait until the second knock at the door before opening it; I don't want to seem pathetically eager.
I guess that I look shocked when I open the door because I was expecting my usual and the guy standing before me is anything but 'usual'.
Visions of Max, with his tall heavy frame, tight, muscular body and warm dark skin are quickly replaced by the man before me, shorter by at least half a foot, fair skinned with long curly hair, shockingly blue eyes and so damned young.
His face lights up as he walks into the room and answers my question before I ask it with 'Max has flu'.
He's already shed his leather jacket before he stops and asks 'Is that okay with you? If I'm not your type I can get them to send someone else?'
I shake my head and try to smile, I know I mutter something like 'No, you're just fine.'
But he's so much more than fine.
Beneath the leather is a slender but muscular frame, complimented by a nicely tight tee shirt and snug jeans.
In some men this would be seriously dressing down, but in this guy, it looks perfect. Anything more would just detract from his looks and make him look cheap, anything less would be an arrestable offence.
My fingers tremble as I offer him a drink, which he politely refuses. I turn away and take one myself, something I never do, but at this moment I need it.
"The same rules and rates apply as with Max, that okay?" he asks, "You pay the agency and they pay me, saves any messing about with cash."
"Yeah, sure," I'm stuttering out the words, I can't explain why I suddenly feel so vulnerable in the presence of this singularly unthreatening man, but the sensation of his eyes on my back causes my stomach to flutter.
He smiles as I turn back to look at him and begins to pull off his tee shirt, sending his hair crazy with static.
If I did that, I'd look like jerk of the century with my hair sticking up on end, but he just looks incredible as each strand floats back into place like a slow motion movie.
His fingers slowly unbuckle his belt and he glances up at me from beneath lowered lashes.
This is possibly the most erotic moment I have ever witnessed in my life and my dick jumps like it took a shock. As the jeans slide effortlessly to the floor and he steps out of them, I forget to breathe and find myself suddenly breathless and spluttering. Embarrassed I turn away again to put down my glass and try to think of something else for a moment in the vain hope that my face will cool before I have to look at him again.
Next time I look, he's bending over the bed, pulling the sheet back and I get a rear view that could blind a man.
"So," he says, "What do you want to do, man?"
I don't answer because I can't. I just stand and look at him, the depth of my own arousal frightening me into inaction.
"Does Max usually bottom for you? Or do you want me to top? Maybe you'd like me to suck you off first? It's up to you, man."
I just want him to stand there with that slightly puzzled look on his face and that gentle pout on his lips until time ends, because right now that would be enough for me.
"Are you okay?" he asks again and I know I still don't answer. "Look, I won't be offended if you're looking for someone more like Max. This was a last minute thing, he took really sick late last night and no one else was available for this time, but if you're looking for a big, muscular guy like him, I understand...really I do. Hey, I like 'em big and hard myself," he grins and runs his fingers through his hair.
He has a well-rehearsed street persona but it's cracking at this moment because some big jerk is just standing staring at him.
I physically shake myself and try another smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I rolled into town late last night and I'm just not up to speed today yet. You're fine, really. You're a very nice looking guy, I think I'm just a little overwhelmed at how attractive I find you."
I can't believe I'm being so honest with a stranger. I'd had Max three times before I even gave him my first name, but this guy rips me open and lays me bare within five minutes of walking through the door.
He lets fly that smile again, but behind it there's a sense of relief, I can see that.
"Great! You can call me Blair by the way."
"Jim." I hear myself say.
Blair sits on the bed and slowly falls back until he's lying stretched out on the crisp white cotton "Okay Jim, you want to get undressed and come relax on here with me?"
I nod and quickly push off my pants before making a huge mess of unbuttoning my shirt.
Finally naked I kneel on the end of the bed and Blair smiles at me, his eyes having done a quick check of everything I have.
I let my body slide against his as I pull myself across him and move close for the first kiss. He's totally comfortable with being kissed, many escorts don't like it, but he's kissing back hard before I relax and let my weight rest upon him.
His legs spread wide and my dick slips down to nestle in his crotch, brushing across his balls and finally bumping his cock. It's like being on fire and I physically jump at the sensation, but he's hooked a leg around my waist and he's holding on so tight I can't move away.
The thrust of his hips is remarkably powerful for a small guy and he's lifting me off the bed with each push. Hard in record time and teetering on the edge I begin to lose control, I break the kiss and pull away.
He watches me so intently it's as though he's reading my thoughts. He turns over onto his belly and reaches onto the side table where I'd already placed the condoms and lube.
Without a word he hands them to me before burying his head on his hands and lifting his ass.
My fingers are trembling, my heart is pounding so loudly that I can't hear myself think and I envy him the calm and control he seems to possess, but then this is his work and my pleasure.
I guess I'm pretty calm and controlled when I'm wearing my badge and arresting the bad guys.
With shaking fingers I slip on the condom and lube it up, taking a moment to slick up Blair, then I press my cock-head against him. He grunts slightly as he feels it slip just inside, but the sound becomes a moan as I take my time and enter him, inch by inch.
It's almost hypnotic as I watch my cock sliding into him, watch him open up and pull me in, his body shaking from the effort, his breath quickening to accommodate the pressure building inside him.
I don't ever recall taking the time with Max to even think these things; it's just a quick fuck to release the tension then our goodbyes.
Transitory sex at its best.
Blair's pushing back at me, forcing me deeper, all the way in and I grab his ass to steady us both.
"Yes!" he hisses as I rest against him for a moment, so I begin to move, start the endless rhythm of withdrawing and slamming back into him, feeling the slickness between us, the heat building like a volcano.
He's reaching back to grasp his own cock; fulfill its need with a few heavy pulls from talented finger but I stop him.
"No, I want you to.." I don't believe what I'm saying, what I'm asking him to do.
He nods his head and braces himself against the bed as I thrust a few more times and strangle a yell as it hits me like a wall of pleasure crashing into me at top speed, leaving me dazed and breathless in the aftermath.
Blair waits for me to pull out before rolling from beneath me and grabbing the packet and bottle from the table. I'm still a little dazed when his finger enters me, skillfully sliding in and finding the right place to make me sit up and take notice.
Once he has my attention, I feel him enter me in a single, well-rehearsed stroke and I take him in at once, welcoming the intrusion with a shout of pleasure.
His hands are working on the muscles along my back, fingers digging in, massaging the tension away. His strokes are measured and careful, he's trying to take his time and allow me to recover enough to enjoy the experience fully.
I want to explain that I'm forty and the equipment just doesn't work that way any more, but I have no power of speech, just the agonizing wailing of a man consumed by lust.
I swear that he's growing inside me, I can feel the immenseness of him consuming me, but I know that so much of that feeling is the way he makes me tremble when he looks at me and not the size of his equipment.
Blair's hand sneaks around my body and begins to stroke me so gently.
Hell kid, you may be talented, but you can't raise the dead!
He's whispering in my ear, the words are unimportant because the effect is a biblical miracle as I harden to his touch.
With a laugh that could cure the ills of the world, he purrs into my ear and quickens his pace, the faster his hips move, the more urgent the caresses to my now thundering, pounding cock.
I'm begging him for more, pleading for him to never stop and I cry out as I come again all over his hand and on the bed, while quietly marveling at my own resourcefulness and staying power.
He shivers as his orgasm hits him, leaning across my back as it recedes and he waits until he can breathe steadily and support his own weight before pushing himself off.
We rest there for a moment, unmoving and silent, both waiting for the time when the peace shatters into reality and we're forced to dress and walk away from all of this.
Suddenly he kisses me, just a small kiss to the middle of my back, "You are one hell of a sexy guy, Jim," he mumbles as he pushes himself from the bed and I hear him begin to dress.
I don't want him to go.
I lever myself up and grab my linen pants from the chair, quickly pulling them up, a sudden flash of modesty requiring me to be covered in front of this man; definite signs of insanity after what we just did.
"Blair?" I say as he shrugs on the leather jacket.
He turns around and uses that killer smile again, "Yeah Jim?"
It feels so comfortable when he uses my name that it makes me smile back. "I'll be in town again next week. Can I call you?"
His smile fades slightly, "I.."
"I mean through the agency if that's what you think, I wasn't trying to harass you or anything!"
Damn, I'm so comfortable with him that I forget that he's a 'working man' and not some date that I really want to see again.
"No, Jim. It's not that. I like you, I really do, but I don't do this all the time, I'm..." he stops and looks at me, I can see that he's trying to decide if he can trust me, "I'm at college. I messed up my grants and ran out of money, that's why I'm doing this part time. I might not be here when you come back next week."
I'm sure that my face falls about as far as my heart. Even though I hate the idea of this lovely guy fucking men for money, I want to see him again so badly that I'm willing to do anything.
"Oh, okay." I don't know what to say or do other than stand there and watch him walk out.
"Jim, are you married or anything? You know, do you have a wife and kids back home and this is your 'thrill' or something?"
"No!" I know I sound shocked that he could think that and his face becomes so apologetic I want to hug him.
"Sorry, man. It's just that, when I see a nice, handsome guy like you doing this, I assume that it's your 'sport', you know?" He reaches into his jacket tentatively. Pulling out a card he pauses. "I am going to get myself in deep shit for this if I'm wrong about you." He slowly hands me the card.
It has a room number on and 'Blair Sandburg: Anthropology Dept. Rainier University, Cascade WA'
On the back is a telephone number written by hand.
"Call me if you're passing through Cascade anytime, okay?"
I suddenly feel the urge to laugh out loud.
"I live in Cascade," I say as a grin takes over my face making it difficult to speak.
"Yeah. I'm Jim Ellison by the way. Detective Jim Ellison, Cascade PD." I hold out my hand and Blair takes it, but I note a chill running through him, "No, I'm not with Vice, not any more, this isn't a job."
He laughs as I say it and shakes my hand a little harder, "Nice to meet you Jim Ellison."
"You too Blair Sandburg."
"Will you call me?" he asks.
"Try stopping me," I reply.
As he walks out of the door and we agree to meet at the weekend, I make a mental note to call the agency and cancel next weeks appointment. Oh, and send Max a bottle of something expensive to thank him for getting flu.