Whippoorwill

I was over 50 years old and walking in Manhattan. A handsome guy in his 20s was walking near me and kept looking at me before he approached and started a conversation. After a couple minutes, he asks if I am staying at a hotel. I told him we were right near my lodging when he asked if he could use my rest room. I thought about it and decided to take the risk and told him sure. When he was done peeing, we made good use of the room. Then he was gone and I continued my day with a big smile. Who ever knew that you could get lucky just walking down the street?

It amazes me how people are able to have these incredible experiences... in comparison, my life is so utterly boring and amorously uneventful! A fly on the wall of your place literally sees more action than I do...lol.

When I was moving from New York to the West Coast, my neighbor upstairs knocked on my door in New York. He said he had heard I was moving. He had once spotted me at the gym, but we didn't ever interact besides that. "Well," he said, "since you are moving I thought this was my chance to tell you I have always wanted you to fuck me. Can we do that?" I responded favorably, saying maybe we could do that sometime later, expecting that it would never happen since I wasn't really interested. He was having none of that! "How about right now?, he asked. "I want you to role play my coach fucking me."
So what do you think happened next? You are right. We did it. Not sure if he was totally satisfied with my role playing, but he got what he came for.

@m4same, those of us who travel have long learned the universal language of sex. Desire triumphs even when languages are useless.

When I travel, I try and hire a gay tour guide for at least a few hours so I can not only tour but learn about gay life and culture in that location. Twice in the past couple of years, somehow, I ended up fooling around with the guide after the tour ended. Both of those experiences were unexpected wonderful surprises. I would never count on that happening but when it did, I sure appreciated it.

I loved your story but this was my favorite part. I often wonder if I mean anything to the men who’ve meant a lot to me. Or if an experience was as special to them as it was for me.
 
I’m glad you know yours was.

1979. I was 19. I wasn't out at all even if I knew I was gay, and I only had had one not pleasant experience with a man in his late 40s.
Finishing high school me and 2 straight close friends during summertime traveled one month by car from Milan, Italy (where we lived) with counted money, sleeping bags and tent throughout Switzerland, Germany, Holland, Luxembourg, France and back. Our last stop was Paris for 5 days. It was our reward from our parents for having had great grades at school.
 
We were always together and we had a great time. Our last day in Paris before driving straight back to Milan we decided to take one day off from each other. After walking by myself for a while (who can get bored by walking in Paris?...) having a itch I decided to take the metro and stop at Pigalle, the Red Zone of Paris. I walked mesmerized throughout the streets filled with sex shops, strip clubs, peep shows (in Milan back then there were only a bunch of sleazy porn movie theaters), porn theaters. I walked into a movie theatre and watched for the first time a gay movie. I saw that few men went back and for to the restroom, and a bit scared but excited I decided to go inside and I saw lots of action. As I was a very cute teenager they all jumped on me like bees on honey. Hot but scary! One very handsome sexy guy who started to kiss me told me "Follow me". I followed him by metro to his campus (he was an Hungarian young man in his early 20s who was studying Arts in Paris). Our English (especially his) was quite basic but we understood each other. His name was Ferenc. We arrived at the University Campus, he closed the door of his room and we spent an AMAZING couple of hours of passionate sex which I still vividly remember after 41 years! I DO remember that he was a HUNG Hungarian...and it took sometimes to accomodate him in my almost virgin ass.
We kept in touch by letters for a few years, in 1987 I even went with my then boyfriend to Budapest and we met for lunch. And then we lost touch.
 
I recently found him on Facebook, of course many years have passed by for both us, but it was very nice to realize that he had not forgotten also that beautiful experience!

Hahahahaha
 
I’m also still a heathen so his lessons fell on deaf, though aroused, ears.

I guess his lesson really didn't make much impression on you, because it was Joseph Smith who founded the Mormons. (John Smith was saved by Pocahontas.)

I have traveled a lot, and sex has always been an important part of my life. So many stories I could tell. Here's an extra special one. One evening, in my early 40s, I was in St Peter's Square, Vatican City, and there was a cute (turned out to be French) 18ish boy hanging around. We chatted, and quickly picked each other up. He was staying in a cheap hotel, and we went back to his. We hopped in bed and immediately were going at it. Soon there was pounding on the door and the Italian grandmother hotel-keeper screaming at the top of her lungs. She had seen us come in, and was irate that there were two people in the single room. She threw us out. He grabbed his backpack and we headed to my place. Through some unusual circumstances I was staying in a convent catering to pilgrims, right on the edge of the Vatican. Through a priest friend of mine who was stationed at the Vatican, I wrangled a front door key out of the nuns who ran the place, so we were able to sneak in late at night. We soon were in my single bed, fucking like bunnies. He stayed three nights with me, fucking our eyeballs out, until he had to return to Nice. Each morning we would leave with the morning crowd of pilgrims, and never got caught, and snuck back in nights when they were all in bed. I can still see him, laying naked on the bed in the morning sun, cock at full mast, in front of a window with St Peter's just beyond.
He later came to study in the US, and for a couple of years we would call each other occasionally. Ah sweet youth. 

I have traveled a lot, and sex has always been an important part of my life. So many stories I could tell. Here's an extra special one. One evening, in my early 40s, I was in St Peter's Square, Vatican City, and there was a cute (turned out to be French) 18ish boy hanging around. We chatted, and quickly picked each other up. He was staying in a cheap hotel, and we went back to his. We hopped in bed and immediately were going at it. Soon there was pounding on the door and the Italian grandmother hotel-keeper screaming at the top of her lungs. She had seen us come in, and was irate that there were two people in the single room. She threw us out. He grabbed his backpack and we headed to my place. Through some unusual circumstances I was staying in a convent catering to pilgrims, right on the edge of the Vatican. Through a priest friend of mine who was stationed at the Vatican, I wrangled a front door key out of the nuns who ran the place, so we were able to sneak in late at night. We soon were in my single bed, fucking like bunnies. He stayed three nights with me, fucking our eyeballs out, until he had to return to Nice. Each morning we would leave with the morning crowd of pilgrims, and never got caught, and snuck back in nights when they were all in bed. I can still see him, laying naked on the bed in the morning sun, cock at full mast, in front of a window with St Peter's just beyond.
He later came to study in the US, and for a couple of years we would call each other occasionally. Ah sweet youth. 

A regular is a client who has come more than 3 times, especially if that’s in a single session. 

If I see you for extended visits- weekends or longer- for years, then you're a regular.
It's not just about the time or money spent, for me it's do we know each other?

A regular client eats lots of fiber

I have traveled a lot, and sex has always been an important part of my life. So many stories I could tell. Here's an extra special one. One evening, in my early 40s, I was in St Peter's Square, Vatican City, and there was a cute (turned out to be French) 18ish boy hanging around. We chatted, and quickly picked each other up. He was staying in a cheap hotel, and we went back to his. We hopped in bed and immediately were going at it. Soon there was pounding on the door and the Italian grandmother hotel-keeper screaming at the top of her lungs. She had seen us come in, and was irate that there were two people in the single room. She threw us out. He grabbed his backpack and we headed to my place. Through some unusual circumstances I was staying in a convent catering to pilgrims, right on the edge of the Vatican. Through a priest friend of mine who was stationed at the Vatican, I wrangled a front door key out of the nuns who ran the place, so we were able to sneak in late at night. We soon were in my single bed, fucking like bunnies. He stayed three nights with me, fucking our eyeballs out, until he had to return to Nice. Each morning we would leave with the morning crowd of pilgrims, and never got caught, and snuck back in nights when they were all in bed. I can still see him, laying naked on the bed in the morning sun, cock at full mast, in front of a window with St Peter's just beyond.
He later came to study in the US, and for a couple of years we would call each other occasionally. Ah sweet youth. 

I have traveled a lot, and sex has always been an important part of my life. So many stories I could tell. Here's an extra special one. One evening, in my early 40s, I was in St Peter's Square, Vatican City, and there was a cute (turned out to be French) 18ish boy hanging around. We chatted, and quickly picked each other up. He was staying in a cheap hotel, and we went back to his. We hopped in bed and immediately were going at it. Soon there was pounding on the door and the Italian grandmother hotel-keeper screaming at the top of her lungs. She had seen us come in, and was irate that there were two people in the single room. She threw us out. He grabbed his backpack and we headed to my place. Through some unusual circumstances I was staying in a convent catering to pilgrims, right on the edge of the Vatican. Through a priest friend of mine who was stationed at the Vatican, I wrangled a front door key out of the nuns who ran the place, so we were able to sneak in late at night. We soon were in my single bed, fucking like bunnies. He stayed three nights with me, fucking our eyeballs out, until he had to return to Nice. Each morning we would leave with the morning crowd of pilgrims, and never got caught, and snuck back in nights when they were all in bed. I can still see him, laying naked on the bed in the morning sun, cock at full mast, in front of a window with St Peter's just beyond.
He later came to study in the US, and for a couple of years we would call each other occasionally. Ah sweet youth. 

I have traveled a lot, and sex has always been an important part of my life. So many stories I could tell. Here's an extra special one. One evening, in my early 40s, I was in St Peter's Square, Vatican City, and there was a cute (turned out to be French) 18ish boy hanging around. We chatted, and quickly picked each other up. He was staying in a cheap hotel, and we went back to his. We hopped in bed and immediately were going at it. Soon there was pounding on the door and the Italian grandmother hotel-keeper screaming at the top of her lungs. She had seen us come in, and was irate that there were two people in the single room. She threw us out. He grabbed his backpack and we headed to my place. Through some unusual circumstances I was staying in a convent catering to pilgrims, right on the edge of the Vatican. Through a priest friend of mine who was stationed at the Vatican, I wrangled a front door key out of the nuns who ran the place, so we were able to sneak in late at night. We soon were in my single bed, fucking like bunnies. He stayed three nights with me, fucking our eyeballs out, until he had to return to Nice. Each morning we would leave with the morning crowd of pilgrims, and never got caught, and snuck back in nights when they were all in bed. I can still see him, laying naked on the bed in the morning sun, cock at full mast, in front of a window with St Peter's just beyond.
He later came to study in the US, and for a couple of years we would call each other occasionally. Ah sweet youth. 

I have traveled a lot, and sex has always been an important part of my life. So many stories I could tell. Here's an extra special one. One evening, in my early 40s, I was in St Peter's Square, Vatican City, and there was a cute (turned out to be French) 18ish boy hanging around. We chatted, and quickly picked each other up. He was staying in a cheap hotel, and we went back to his. We hopped in bed and immediately were going at it. Soon there was pounding on the door and the Italian grandmother hotel-keeper screaming at the top of her lungs. She had seen us come in, and was irate that there were two people in the single room. She threw us out. He grabbed his backpack and we headed to my place. Through some unusual circumstances I was staying in a convent catering to pilgrims, right on the edge of the Vatican. Through a priest friend of mine who was stationed at the Vatican, I wrangled a front door key out of the nuns who ran the place, so we were able to sneak in late at night. We soon were in my single bed, fucking like bunnies. He stayed three nights with me, fucking our eyeballs out, until he had to return to Nice. Each morning we would leave with the morning crowd of pilgrims, and never got caught, and snuck back in nights when they were all in bed. I can still see him, laying naked on the bed in the morning sun, cock at full mast, in front of a window with St Peter's just beyond.
He later came to study in the US, and for a couple of years we would call each other occasionally. Ah sweet youth. 

It was about 7 or so years ago. My favorite cousin was giving her kid a party at water park hotel about 30 mins away. I drove out there, didn't book a room as I figured I wouldn't be staying the night since it wasn't too far to drive home. She had a hotel room booked where they prepared food, had cake & ice cream, the regular kid party stuff. I found a nice spot in the corner where I discreetly popped opened a4a hoping to find a guy near so I could make a pit stop on my way home. It just so happen at the hotel that weekend a ton of military guys where put up there before they went home. One of them sent me a "smile" and we started chatting. Both unlocked our pics, he invited me to his room. His roommate had left early as his wife had drove up to pick him up, so he had the room to himself. My predicament was figuring out how I gonna ditch my family to get up to his room.
 
The party started to head down to the water park. I thought here's my opportunity. I messaged him my plan. I stuck my phone in my pocket & followed them down. As we were about to enter the water park, I said I forgot my phone and was going back to the room for it, my aunt was still in the room, but I wasn't really going back there. I had to make a pit stop lol. As I'm walking back, I hear one of my other cousins say he was going to come with me. I pretended not to hear him, and started walking faster. As I got to the elevators I hit the button, sent him a message I'll be there in few minutes. but the elevator didn't come soon enough, so I ducked into the stairwell to dodge my cousin, i went up 5 flights to his level. Sent him another message that I was on his floor & he sent me his room number.
 
I got to his door, a little out of breath. Waited a moment to catch my breath before I knocked. He opened the door only wearing a jock strap ? he was slim muscular build, a couple tattoos. I remember him smelling really good too. He started pulling my clothes off. We started swapping BJ's, 69. Then he asked me to fuck him. I agreed.
 
He grabbed some lube out of his bag and lubed up my dick & his ass. I asked him what position he wanted to do, he said missionary, Which is one of my favorites, so I was game. He laid back, I helped lift his legs. Lined up my dick to enter him, looked him in the eyes and asked if he was ready, he nodded. He had nice deep blue eyes, you could just get lost in them. As I began to enter him, we continued to make eye contact. He let out a soft moan, I stopped and asked if he was ok, or wanted me to stop, he say to keep going. I continued to enter him, we broke eye contact. When I felt I was far enough in him, I asked him if he was still ok, he said he was. I began fuck him slowly at first, then faster, we kept making eye contact as I alternated between fast & slow hip thrusts. He was stroking his dick as I fucked him. As I got close, he wanted me to cum in him. We cummed at the same time, with dueling moans while making eye contact. I collapsed on his cum covered chest, my dick still inside him, spent.
 
We both caught our breath, I slipped my dick out of him. We cleaned ourselves up, his parents were on their way to pick him up. I had to get back down to the party. We both got dressed & said our exiting pleasantries. We both knew our paths wouldn't cross again, he lived a few hours away. I slid into the water park, they asked what took me so long, I told them I got lost & ended up in the wrong room tower. Enjoyed the rest of the party, but was hungry, I always get hungry after sex. I ate way too much of the leftover birthday cake. Drove home with a stomach ache.
 
Sorry for the long post.

Was it just the tip? ?

A business trip took me to the Hyatt on Gay Street (seriously) in Knoxville, TN. The Rooftop Bar wasn’t busy at all, so I mostly drank my supper with some snacks. The hunky good-old-Southern-boy bartender was cute as could be and we struck up a nice chat while watching a ballgame - this was some time ago. Anyhow, it was getting late, and I was getting more intoxicated. The bartender actually suggested I slow down a bit, and said he’d be ending his shift soon if I needed anything. Hint, hint. There was definitely some chemistry and vibes which was odd since I was old enough to be his father. Fast forward, he’s telling me goodbye and I told him I’d walk out with him. We got near the elevator and he pushes the up button. I smiled and said, huh? The door opens, we get on and he pushes the 4 button. How’d you know that? Dude, you signed the bar tab. So we made it to my room, played a little grab-ass and the rest is sort of a memorable blur. I do remember a lot of wrestling around on the bed and he woke me up when he was leaving. Had two more nights of fun and games with him before I had to go home. Nice memories. Oh yeah, I do tip very well.

@CuriousByNature, if I may have a go at this...
I once was in London and staying at a decent hotel in Bayswater. One evening I was lying in bed and was about to fall asleep when I heard some moaning coming from the room next door to mine. Suddenly I heard their door open, so I looked out and saw a guy in a towel heading to the ice machine across from my room. I opened my door, which caused him to turn around. Suddenly his towel dropped and soon there was moaning coming from my room! And that, my friends, is the closest I have ever come to a travel sex story...
 
Work for you? As a playful edit?

In 1990 five male friends and I vacationed in Waikiki for eight days. There were two couples, another single guy and me. Each couple had their own rooms while the other single guy and I shared a room. We did most activities together, but on the last night each couple wanted a private romantic evening. My single roomie and I grabbed some food and hit the bars (Hamburger Mary’s and Hula’s) one last time. We lost track of each other, but agreed that if we did, we’d just make our way back to the hotel separately.
 
On my way back to the hotel I encountered what could best be described as the poster boy for hot surfers while walking along Kalakaua Avenue. Shaggy blond hair, blue eyes, wearing thin nylon shorts (obviously without underwear) and a tank top. We started talking, told me he was from the North Shore and missed his bus. It was obvious we were eyeing each other up, so I asked if he wanted to return to my hotel with me.
 
As soon as we got on the elevator, we were all over each other, making out, groping (commando status confirmed), and grinding up against each other. Once in the room the clothes came off within seconds, we fell on the bed and started going at it. Without getting too graphic, we both were satisfied and spent after an hour of fun.
 
The dilemma was now that my surfer missed the last bus and was stuck on this side of the island until morning, so I had a cuddle buddy for the night. My single roomie arrived back to the room and found both of us spooning in my bed. Quick introductions were made and my roomie gave me a thumbs up as he was climbing into his bed.
 
Morning rolled around and we had an extra join us for breakfast. After breakfast, I walked him to the bus stop where he boarded the bus back to the North Shore. I never saw or spoke with him again, but it remains one of my fondest memories of an incredible vacation.
 
Needless to say, my friends interrogated me endlessly during the day and on the flights home. Even 30 years later, they still tease me about that night.

When I was quite young my boyfriend and I decided to take the summer off and go to California. We hitched rides from New York City to San Francisco and back. We were gone all of June, July and August. We had sex everyday ..every and anywhere. Most of the rides we got were long hauls.
Jerry was so handsome and wild. I was young and in love. So many great stories I don't have the time to write them all down now. Sad to say we had a huge argument...I left in the middle of the night by sneaking out a window. When we both landed back in Manhattan we worked things out..He died of a drug overdose at his Mom's home on Long Island one month later. I carry a photo of him on my mobile.

My first trip to Europe was on Icelandic Airlines, because they had the cheapest fare: JFK to Luxembourg via Keflavik, for $270 roundtrip, an open-ended ticket good for six weeks. I arrived in Luxembourg City in early evening and checked into my hotel, then decided to go for a walk, because I was screwed up by jet lag and not ready to go to sleep. I had a map of the old town and was walking around, when I passed an attractive older man, who saw the map in my hand and asked if I needed help. I explained that I had just arrived, but the tourist sites had closed for the day, so I was just wandering around getting my bearings. He offered to show me around, and after some pleasant banter he led me under a dark bridge in a deserted area. I was young but far from innocent, and when he stopped and turned toward me, I was ready for the grope. The next thing I knew, we were on the ground behind bushes just off the walkway, with our pants partly pushed down, and grinding away. It was over in a few minutes; we pulled ourselves together, he gave me a quick handshake and pointed me the direction back to my hotel, and left me. I had been in Europe only a few hours, and already had my first sex there.
 
My last hours on that trip were very similar. I had decided to spend the last night of my six week tour of Europe in Reykjavik at the Hotel Loftleider, which was owned by the airline. As I waited in the lobby to be taken to the airport for the flight to NY, I made eye contact with an attractive young man in an airline uniform. He got up and headed for the stairs down to the basement, where the hotel restrooms were located. Naturally, I followed him down there, and we had quick sex in a men's room stall. I got back up to the lobby just in time to get the shuttle bus to the airport, for a relaxed flight back to America.