Seduced at a Business Hotel

I'm enjoying the Scotch in the hotel bar, wondering what I could do for the evening when a guy comes up to me. I'd flown into this Midwestern city a few hours earlier to attend a series of meetings that would be held over the next couple of days. I'm not a fan of such travel, largely because I'd be away from my home and my family in the middle of nowhere.

This guy, though, is about my age. He wears a nice suit. By then, I'd changed into a pair of slacks and a dress shirt without a tie or jacket.

He signals to the bartender and a drink much like mine appears in front of him.

"Let me guess," he says. "You're from a real city here on business."

I take a sip. "How'd you figure that out?"

I may have been a little snippy in that response but he takes it in stride.

"That's what this place is all about. Guys from New York or Chicago having to come to this backwater for a day or two of meetings before flying the hell out."

He takes a long sip of his drink.

"Let's sit at a table," he says, and we take our drinks to a small booth off to the side.

"So what is it?" he asks. "Where are you from?"

"Boston, as it happens. And you?"

"Me? I'm local."

"Local. Then why come here when, as you say, it's just a bunch of guys trying to survive the trip?"

"Well," he says, "I come to see some of those guys."

"Wait. Are you a--"

He laughs with his drink up near his face. "A prostitute? No. Nothing like that. I'll even be paying for your next drink. No. I like to check out the guys here or at another hotel nearby and see if I can seduce them."

I almost spit out my own Scotch.

"You okay?" he asks.

I dab my mouth and lips with a napkin. "Yeah. I'm just surprised you think...you think I'm gay."

"Did I say I like to check out gay guys? There's no challenge in that."

"What do you mean."

"I mean I like to seduce straight guys. Guys who've never sucked a cock. Guys who've never fucked another guy or been fucked by another guy."

He is very nonchalant about this, not particularly concerned that we'll be overheard. He takes a longer sip and puts his glass on the table. I don't know what to say to this but decide the best course of action is to get out of there ASAP. But I don't. Which he notices.

"Guys like you, am I right?"

I lean closer to him and he leans closer to me. We both have our glasses cradled in our hands. "I'm straight."

"And has a guy even given you head?"

"Well, no."

"Do you want me to?"

This is crazy.

Before I can answer, he says, "Look. Let me tell you a story. You can react to it however you'd like. No hard feelings. Deal?"

"Deal," I say.

"I come in here on a Monday or Tuesday. That's when guys fly in. I look around and see if there's anyone I might be interested in having sex with. No commitment sex. It's not like I can't get that at any number of gay spots around town. I do that often enough. But here, the challenge is to find a straight guy. A good looking straight guy. Like you."

"Thank you for that." I am genuinely flattered and take a sip of my Scotch.

"Glad to oblige." He sips his own drink and I notice that he has nice lips. "I make sure they're alone and feeling a little out of place. Because we're in the middle of nowhere. I go up to him. Get a Scotch. Pete, the bartender knows my game and I give him a good tip on the tab. I ask my target whether he'd like to sit down with me. They always do, even if I have to ask a couple of times."

"You only had to ask me once."

"I know. I did notice that. You must be really lonely to have done that. No offense."

"Again, none taken."

"So I sit at the table and I tell him straight off--pardon the pun--what I want to do with him. He's skeptical. About himself mostly but also whether I'm going to rape him if he lets me into his room. I ease his concern by telling him what I want and that I want him to want the same thing."

"Which is?"

"I want to give him the best blowjob of his life. It may be the only blowjob he ever gets from a man but he'll never forget it. When a woman, his wife maybe, goes down on him, he'll immediately compare it to the blowjob I give him."

"You're that good?"

"Better." He sees our glasses are empty and lifts his until he gets Pete's attention. He puts up two fingers and Ella, who works the tables (innocently) brings over the two fresh Johnnie Walker Blacks on ice.

"I say that's what I want to do. I say that I'd like to do a whole lot more, but that's up to him."

I take a drag of my new drink. "What do you mean

a whole lot more

?"

"So, after we go to his room, I kiss him. I run my hands down him and pull his to my trousers so he can see how hard I am?"

"And how big?"

He laughs. "You've watched too much porn. It's not my size that matters. It's what I can do with it. But remember, by letting me in his room, he's only agreed that I fellate him."

"And then?"

"And then I run my hand across the front of his trousers to feel the object of my desire. And, before you ask, I don't care about size. It's a particular man's cock and that's all that matters. I can take 'em big, I can take 'em small. What matters is that I can take 'em."

He smiles and I take a bit more of my Scotch.

"Tell me. Is your cock hard now?"

"It can get harder," I say, "but it's definitely...interested."

"Between us, I've had more than a few guys tell me that by the time I'm done with them they'd never been as hard as they were when I was blowing them."

"Okay. Now I'm a little harder."

He smiles. "I thought you might be."

I actually reach into my lap to adjust myself and when I look up I saw his tongue run across his, as I say, nice upper lip.

"So now that we know the conditions of our respective penises, I close the drapes and make sure only one light is on. When I get back to him, I kneel down, I actually kneel down and remove his shoes and socks. I place them neatly to the side and reach up and undo his belt."

"What is he doing while this is going on?"

"He is beginning to swoon and his hands are lightly caressing my head and sometimes he's murmuring something unintelligible. That's what he's doing."

Not only is my cock getting hard, I'm actually getting short of breath with the images he's painting.

"I unbutton and unzip his trousers and pull them down. He lifts one foot and then the other so I can remove them. I fold them neatly and put them to the side. By then, his dick is very hard. I move his shirt to the side and kiss it beneath his underpants. I ask if he's ready and he says

more than ready

. They don't all say that exactly, but they all say something like it. I ask if he's ever had a guy go down on him and a few say

back in college

or something like that but most say never."

He takes more of his drink. "What will your answer be?"

"Never."

"I didn't think so. Most say that."

I say, "Look, this is all well and good but I can't believe I'm saying this but can we go up to my room now?"

He laughs. "Oh, you want me to

show

you what I do to these other gentlemen and not just tell you?"

"Fucking Christ. I'm going to burst. Let's just get out of here."

He smiles again.

"You have to say the magic words."

"Please."

"That's not them. You have to tell me that you want me to give you the best blowjob you'll ever have and that you want me to give it to you in your room. You need to tell me what you want. Not what I want. I want to give you that blowjob. You need to tell me that you want me to."

I am close to bursting as he sits back in the booth.

Ten minutes later, we're in my room. Fifteen minutes later I'm sitting in one of the armchairs naked below the waist and he's on his knees in front of me. He is completely dressed. He waits like I'm his master or something.

"Please," I say, "I want you to suck my cock. Please."

Without a word, his right hand lifts it. I swear I've never been so hard and there is already a fair amount of precum at its tip. He looks straight at me and into me and then he runs his tongue along its bottom twice. He puts his lips around the head and his tongue bathes it. I nearly come from that, as his hand slowly moves up and down my shaft.

My hands are on his head but he is in total control. His hand pulls away and cradles my balls gently as he lowers his mouth farther and farther. His tongue bathes every inch of me and after things seem to have calmed, he starts sucking me, pulling his mouth and his tongue slowly up and then shoving me back in. He starts squeezing my balls and finds a rhythm and coordination between his mouth and his hand.

Suddenly his other hand reaches below, between my thighs, and a finger runs across my ass crack, across my anus. It stops there, and likely pokes three or four times before I am penetrated and the moment I am I explode, far more than I've ever exploded before. He keeps sucking and poking until I push his head away. He slowly pulls his finger from my asshole and sits back on his haunches.

I struggle to catch my breath. He stands and leans close to my face. His mouth is closed and I realize what he wants to do and I want him to do it too. When his lips touch mine, I open my mouth just as he opens his and a glob of my cum flows into me as our tongues swirl around each other.

He pulls back.

"Swallow," he says, and I do.

He stands in front of me, looking very much as he had when he came up to me in the bar except he has a light film around his mouth.

"Now," he say, "I did what I said I wanted to do to you and what you said you wanted me to do with me. Do you want me to leave?"

Do I want him to leave? Is he crazy?

I am in my post-orgasm stupor but there is no way I don't want to have his cock in my mouth. Hell, there is no way I didn't want his cock reaming my asshole. This was completely unchartered territory but I like it.

I get up, looking much the fool naked except for a buttoned dress shirt. I step to him and tell him what I want. I kneel down and repeat for him what he did for me, or at least try to since it's my first blowjob as a giver and of course the first time I finger-penetrate an asshole and soon I'm on all fours on the bed while he, after lubing me up with a tube he has and rolling a condom he brought on his cock, takes my anal cherry and forever changes my view of the world.