Chapter Four
Warning: this story contains male-on-male sex acts.
I spend the next day in a mixture of bliss and confusion. The afterglow of the best sex I've ever had coupled with a deep philosophical questioning about my sexuality. I had taken a cock up my ass and it made me come like a backed-up fire hydrant. It was a plastic cock, sure, with a gorgeous woman on the other end, but still. It was a cock, and I pushed back against it, rolled my hips, moaned and begged for more. Thinking about it makes my asshole clench and my dick twitch.
Once again, I spend my shift in anticipation, but this time I'm not just thinking about sodomizing Marla. Every once in a while, I can't help but fantasize about that plastic cock in my ass. I remember Marla's skin against mine, the smell of her sweat, and the feeling of my ass stretched around the dildo as she thrusts in and out, stimulating my prostate.
And that's when she walks in, right at that perfect moment. Seeing her face makes me instantly hard. I give her the key, and she strokes my hand as she takes it, staring into my eyes.
"Jack's in town, just send him up when he gets here. And feel free to join us if you have some free time, I do so enjoy our little games," she winks at me and walks towards the elevators. Once again, I stare at her ass as she walks, and she knows I do because without even looking back she lifts up her skirt and pulls her thong aside as she bends over way too much to push the elevator call button, and she winks at me again.
A few minutes later the phone rings from her room. I pick up and she pants, "guess what I'm doing right now?" I lick my lips and open my mouth to guess but she interrupts me, "I'm doing to me what I did to you last night," she says, punctuating with a moan. I picture her shoving the double-ended dildo in her asshole, and even though it doesn't matter I hope she's using the same end she used on me. "Maybe later, you can do it to me yourself... and not with the dildo."
I'm about to tell her exactly what I think of that when she hangs up on me. I guess it was a rhetorical phone call. There's not much work to do at that time of the evening, so I ponder a question that's been on my mind. Would I rather fuck Marla in the ass, or have her fuck me? Why not both? But then, in what order?
My musings are interrupted by a guest arriving in the lobby. Rude. I recognize him instantly.
"Jack." He smiles his George Clooney smile at me and offers his hand. I shake it. Good grip.
"Is my dirty little whore in?" he asks, like one would ask about the weather.
"Yes, she's waiting for you. Room 405."
"Excellent! I haven't emptied my balls since last night, I'm about ready to blow. What do you think, young man, should I paint her face or destroy her ass?"
"Um... I mean, you could always put it in her ass and then pull out to come on her face... I guess?"
He nods, and I feel like I've passed a test of some kind.
"I like the way you think. Will you be joining us tonight?"
"Oh, most definitely."
"I can't wait!" There's that Clooney smile again. "See you soon," he calls from the elevator as the doors close.
I'm not sure how I feel about this guy, I get the feeling that he wants to do more than just watch fuck his wife. I fear (or is it hope?) that he wants to stick his big beautiful cock in various holes in my body, and I'm not sure that I'm ready for that just yet.
Well, it might not matter anyway because after a boring shift I look at the clock to see it's midnight and there's still a key on the board. It's those bitches from 402, the ones I peeked in on last night. They haven't returned from whatever (whoever?) they're doing, and I can't close up to visit Marla and Jack until they do.
I've resigned myself to missing out on the fun when they finally return, long past one in the morning. They've got a couple of guys with them, but I can't tell if they're the same ones as last night. They're both tall and athletic-looking, one blonde to match the girl at his side, the other dark-haired and olive-skinned. Hispanic, or Native. The girls walk up to the counter with the guys flanking them. They're all staring at me. I give the key to the red-haired girl and she grabs my wrist and pulls me in.
"Where were you last night?" she asks.
"Excuse-me?"
"I called reception around midnight and there was no answer, so I came down and you weren't there. Where were you? Were you in another room, spying on people?"
Oh shit. What? I can feel beads of perspiration forming on my forehead.
"Yeah, we saw you. We all saw you." They all nod in agreement. "There's mirrors on the sides."
Oh, right. There are.
"You work here, you don't even know that?"