Sunday afternoon I drive to LAX, park my Porsche, and catch my flight to Miami. My seat-mate this time is a businessman who runs an auto parts chain, so I'm compelled to talk a bit about plastics. Finally, he excuses himself to use the restroom and I arrange to have my head buried in a magazine when he returns, cutting off any further conversation.
The flight gets in around nine. I check into the Hilton at the airport. I stop by the lobby bar for a drink, hoping for a Roving CFNM girl to come over, as I haven't had an orgasm since Friday. Finally, a gorgeous Cuban-looking woman of about twenty-five carries her drink over, takes the chair next to me, and shows me her iPhone screen. She tells me her name is Adolfina. We chat a bit while we finish our drinks, and then she follows me to my room.
Once inside, I remove my clothes. "How do you want me?" I ask.
"Flat on the bed will do fine," she says.
I strip off the bedcover and lie back with my legs spread. She works me over for an hour, finishing with a sensational blow job. She uses her lips, her tongue, and her teeth in concert, like a musical trio. I come into her mouth and she swallows everything I have to give.
She takes a washcloth wet with warm water and washes me off. Then she takes a blue ribbon out of her purse, wraps it around my limp cock, and ties a perfect bow.
"My little trademark," she says, with a beautiful smile. "Leave it on all night. That's an order."
"I'm obligated to follow all orders. You want to come back in the morning and check?" I'm joking, and she knows it. Roving CFNMs are almost always short of time.
"Can't. Got an early meeting. Can I trust you?"
"You can. Thanks, Adolfina."
"You're very welcome, Brendan." She kisses the tip of my cock and leaves.
I go to sleep immediately. When I awake, the bow is still there.
* * *
The Red Coral Resort is new to us, so I have to use my GPS to find it. It's in Fort Lauderdale, along a stretch of beach shielded from its neighbors by its own five-story buildings and some strategically-placed fences and palm trees. I leave my car with the valet and go inside with my carryon. I walk to the front desk expecting to check in. I announce my name.
"No need for check in just yet," says the cute woman behind the counter. "Please follow me."
She leads me to a small conference room. Without a word, she unzips me and pulls out my penis and testicles. She examines me in a clinical way. It feels more like a urology exam than what it is, which is a surprise fondling by a set of fantastically sexy fingers.
"Just a quick check," she explains, with a smile. "Before your interview. Don't worry, you check out just fine. In fact, I hope to meet you again later." She tucks my genitals back into my shorts and zips me up.
"There's an interview?" I ask. I've heard of such things, but I've never encountered one myself.
"Yes. Don't worry, it's short. We have a selection committee who has to approve all men prior to their first visit. It will start in a few minutes. Can I get you something?"
"A cold beer?" I ask. "A local microbrew, if you have it." It's only ten in the morning, but I feel like a beer.
"Absolutely." She disappears for minute and returns with a mug of beer and a plate of cheese and crackers. "In case you're hungry for a snack. Please wait here. It will only be a few minutes."
I settle into a chair and sip the beer. I'm wondering about the interview. I hope its purpose isn't to catch inspectors.
A few minutes later three women enter the room. Their ages look to be between about thirty and thirty-five. They're tanned and athletic looking, dressed in skimpy shorts and halter tops. Two are blond, and the other is a redhead.
"Good morning, Brendan," begins the redhead.
"Good morning, ladies," I say.
She's all business. "Please remove your clothes."
I disrobe and place my clothes on an empty chair. They arrange their chairs in a semi-circle, and the redhead motions for me to stand in front of them. I walk over and stand with my hands behind my back, making no attempt to hide my privates. I don't want them to think I'm too shy for their resort.
The blue-eyed blond extends a bare foot and starts flicking my balls. "We need you to get hard now. If you need any help, let us know. Or, do you want to do it yourself?"
"I prefer you do it, Miss." I realize they've offered no names, which is normal for the interview, I guess. "But, just talking about it is probably going to make it happen." I smile.
The women smile back at me. "We'll wait and see," says the green-eyed blond.
Sure enough, with a few more toe flicks around my balls, I get erect.
"You're doing great so far, Brendan," says the redhead. "We have only a few questions. The interview is really just to make sure that you're comfortable with nudity and with being handled. We also want to make sure you've got a sexy body, of course. You seem to excel in both areas. Have you been doing CFNM for long?"
If she only knew. Time to lie. "For a few years, just on vacation. After I did it the first time, I got hooked."
"What do you like about having your penis on display?" asks the blue-eyed blond, as she reaches out and starts stroking it with her fingers.
"It's an incredible turn-on," I answer. "Especially, of course, when the women looking at it are clothed. It gives me a feeling of vulnerability that I find very stimulating."
She starts squeezing my balls. "And you don't mind being handled?"
"Not at all," I answer. "I like it a lot." I'm trying to make my answers sound a little dumb, so as not to give away my professional status.
"My turn," says the redhead. The blond lets go and the redhead takes my cock in one hand and pulls my sack down with the other. I get harder and start leaking pre-cum. She grabs the loose skin under my glans and starts rolling it around, now pressing my balls between her fingers with exactly the right amount of pressure. I feel on the edge of pain, but it's still on the pleasure side. I want to impress these women with my ability to stay hard without coming, but it's proving difficult. The interview setting and my abrupt treatment give me a sense of helplessness that I find too arousing to overcome.
"Do you want to come, Brendan?" asks the redhead as she starts running a finger over my glans, smearing it with pre-cum.
"Definitely," I answer.
"Any preference?"
"Sorry, I don't know your names. But one of you hasn't touched me yet. So, I'll decide that way."
The green-eyed blond grabs my cock and pulls me towards her. With both hands, she begins kneading my shaft like it's bread dough. The redhead puts a towel on the blond's lap and then massages me under my balls, putting pressure on my prostate. Now the blond is rubbing her thumbs along the underside of my shaft while moving my cock around in circles.
The urge to shoot off is so fierce I can't control it. It's so strong that it doesn't happen, as though my cock is paralyzed. It keeps building as these two women keep working me over, one on my shaft and one pulling my balls so hard it feels like she's tearing them off.
Just when I can't hold back any longer, I realize the blue-eyed blond had stepped around me. She spreads my cheeks, inserts two fingers into my asshole, and presses them in so hard it feels like they're going to come out my penis.
With all three women, six hands in all, on me, I'm in a state of suspension. My orgasm keeps building. I'm not trying to stop it, but I can't do anything. I'm totally under the control of these incredible females.
Finally, I explode with such violence that I yell, something I rarely do. My legs go weak, but the women are holding me up. I lose track of how long I orgasm, but it seems to come in waves. I wonder if it's just one? It seems like two, or even three. At last it stops, my cock goes limp, and the women let me go. I sit on a nearby towel-covered chair.
"You passed, Brendan," says the redhead. "Welcome to Red Coral Resort. Leave your clothes off, of course. Someone will be here in a few minutes to get you registered."
