The Millionaire

I didn’t know he was before I met him. He’d suggested we meet in a very cool looking cocktail bar in a posh part of town I don’t normally hang out in.
But I sometimes frequent places like that, so I didn’t think much of it.
I’d gone to a talk beforehand, then met some friends there who persuaded me to go for a drink.
As a result I was probably later than he expected. I arrived at the bar and ordered a drink. I was fucking nervous.
He messaged me and said he was on a conference call. It was 10pm!
I was livid. I sent back a string of messages asking what I should do. wait or leave?
Nothing.
I tried to relax. The cocktail I’d ordered was pretty spiffing if I’m honest. But I hadn’t come all this way for nothing.
He suggested I join him at his place ‘round the corner’. I checked, it wasn’t round any corner and was a little too far to walk.
I finished the drink, paid and left.
The cab driver took me right to the door and explained there used to be garages there. Reassuring.
He opened the door and immediately began a Hugh Grant style speech apologising, something about having to go to Venezuela. God, he was cute. I looked down at his feet.
Now I’m a huge fan of a hotel slipper. And a robe, and a hotel room itself but there’s something about the slippers.
He was wearing chocolate brown Mandarin Oriental Hotel slippers.
I joked and said ‘You were never coming out were you?’
Again the Hugh Grant routine. Which absolutely won me over.
He led me upstairs. I already knew he’d just moved in, but blimey what a place.
Three storey, three bedroom mews flat in a swanky part of town.
We started on rum and coke. He was a minerals broker, travelling around the world regularly. Probably went to Eton. Totally out of my league.
He offered me cigarettes. I don’t smoke but I used to and there is something sexy about having one lit for you and one with a drink.
Next he brought out weed. The finest I’ve smoked.
By now we were both on the sofa, him with his legs stretched out over me. I commented on his cords. We chatted for about three hours, fueled by fags, booze and finally the hard stuff.
I fancied him alright. I fancied his bumbling ways, his humble wealth and his manners. But I wanted to see HIS moves.

He had none.

We retired to bed around 3am, like a married couple. I think I even cleaned my teeth.
I hung my clothes on the bedroom door handle.
Climbing into the sheets, I could feel they were the finest thread count money can buy. The bed was huge.
He started kissing me, hands all over my body like an excitable puppy, we were both so wasted I felt nothing.
I went down on him. He pulled me up. Pushed me down, pushed himself inside, thrusted a couple of times and that was it.
He muttered something about setting an alarm for 7.30am as the builders were coming at 8.
We lay apart all night. I didn’t sleep a wink. He wore an eye mask, I had to stifle a laugh .

It’s the first and final time I’ll bang a guy like that.

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