hand away. Herb pushed the ring to the root of the finger and then slid two of his own finger tips back to the tip of Manuel's strong, callused finger.

He then slowly reached into his pocket and took his wallet out again, extracted a fifty, and laid it on the top of the bar, close to Manuel.

"Umm, I'm not sure I need another beer, at least not yet," Manuel stammered.

"The fifty's not for the bartender, Manny. Are you a top or a bottom?"

Manuel looked a little shocked, but then he looked hard at that fifty. "Umm, either . . . sometimes . . . I guess." He was fishing for the answer Herb might want.

"Well, I'm a top, Manny. The fifty's for you if you'll take what I give without question and you do it right now, this afternoon."

Herb had already booked a room at the Galaxy Hotel just up the street, which rented rooms by the hour. He had rented a room there on three previous occasions but hadn't had a lunch turn out like this before and had yet to need the hotel room. And, of course, he didn't get back to the office that afternoon.

They were barely inside the door to the small hotel room, when Herb kicked it shut and had his hands all over Manuel, busily stripping Manuel down to the skin. Then he had Manuel down on the floor in all fours just there between the bed and the door and he had his tongue in the young man's butt cleavage and a hand milking a nice brown dong to the tune of Manuel's grunts and moans. Manuel heard the scrunch of a zipper being lowered and then his moans turned into cries of surprise and initial pain as Herb covered Manuel's back with his chest—the brown dock worker fully naked; the advertising executive still nearly fully clothed—and took him hard and deep right there on the floor with a thick, throbbing rod. Herb was filling Manuel almost beyond capacity before he was fully prepared. He cried out, initially in pain, and then in passion, as Herb stroked him hard and fast, finding every sensitive inch of the younger man's passage walls, fucking him with obsession and a fury of pent-up need. At first Manuel endured because of the fifty already lying on top of the nightstand, waiting for him to earn it. But after a while, he began to love Herb's cock for itself and for the passion it brought out of him and the release it brought him as he had never felt with a woman. The fifty was still an incentive to take the pounding, but it increasingly wasn't what was holding him here—and that would bring him back if he pleased Herb.

After Herb had pumped Manuel's ass to frenzied completion and stroked the young man to his own finish, Herb took his own clothes off and the two of them removed themselves to the bed for a slower, more languid side-splitting fuck, with the finish coming with Manuel on his back, holding onto the headboard slots for dear life, as Herb, his thighs under the young's man's butt cheeks, stroked relentless in and out of Manuel's stretched ass chute.

When Herb had had his fill, he lay there on the bed, smoking, while he watched Manuel put his clothes back on, make sure he had the fifty in his pocket, and respond affirmatively to