Sam could not believe how Steve managed the situation. The emotions of intense arousal, shame and anxiety were rushing through his brain.
His cock was hard in his pants, but that was adding to confusion.
Steve seemed calm, but it did help when Sam noticed that Steve's hands were shaking as he put his unfinished drink on the bar and moved off towards the back of the room. There were additional doors on the far side, and Sam's fellow junior executive headed towards one of them.
Steve turned and looked back as Sam fumbled his tumbler as he tried to set it down. His hands were shaking, and the simple action was too much.
Steve met Sam's eye for a moment and gave him a nod and a small smile of understanding and commiseration.
Steve led Sam through one of the doors on the far side of the room. It opened directly into a magnificent bathroom which seemed to stretch farther than reason would suggest a bathroom should.
To the right there were several shower stalls with multiple shower heads and benches and handles on the walls. There was a large tub, open to the whole room, with cushioned rubber around it and elegant handles. It was big enough for more than one person, that was for sure.
Sam realized that the room looked larger than it was because of the mirrors running along the walls throughout the room. He followed Steve in a daze, seeing a page taped to the mirror at the end of the room. Sam moved forward, peering at it. In the center of the mirror was a handwritten sign written in sharpie:
"Sluts here"
Everything was in muted floral colors, and the lights were soft.
Sam could see the ladies' makeup kits and several pieces of hosiery bundled hastily on the floor in front of the sink and the mirror. He saw, hanging next to the sink, several gorgeous sets of lingerie. There were some hair accessories, the type of which he never could figure out. Especially not in the current circumstances where his brain was not working right.
Sam stopped short as the reality hit him. ""Um, Steve...", Sam said, coming to a stop. "I think this is a ladies' room."
Steve stopped, and his shoulders slumped.
"I know," he said, looking embarrassed. "Fucking Borges likes the little details. He thinks of everything."
He turned to face Sam and straightened a bit. "There is a men's room, but it's not for us. Not tonight."
"Oh God," Sam thought to himself, excited and beyond terrified.
But at loud he did not respond directly to his fellow cuckold. "What is this place, anyway?"
"The hotel caters to visiting athletes and the sexual fun they demand," Steve said. He pointed to one of the shower stalls. "See the size of the shower there? Fits 5 or 6 or more."
He led Sam over, stalling for time a bit. He pointed to the moveable but solid stools and benches, and the various grips and handles on the walls. Sam stared, amazed and intrigued.
"I've seen Emily chained to the wall here and gangbanged by about 10 men. Took an hour, and she was covered and filled with cum when they were finally done with her," Steve said calmly, his steady voice concealing his emotions boiling within him.
"Oh my God," Sam gasped. "What... Did she...". He left the sentenced unfinished, unsure of what he was asking.
"Oh, she absolutely loved it," Steve replied. "She was barely conscious at the end, she was so exhausted, but she came so much. Said it was one of the most intense and amazing sexual experiences of her life."
He paused, uninterrupted by Sam's silent astonishment. "And that's saying something," Steve finished. What he did not tell Sam was that for most of the time he had been hauled around the room on his knees and bent over also being used.
He had spent the last part of the hour bent over by the tub, being fucked by the men waiting for his turn with Steve's beautiful, red-headed, wedding fingered wife. He also did not tell Sam that Emily came from hearing him howl and gagging on cock as he was used at least as hard as she was being fucked next to him.
"He will have to figure that out for himself, tonight," Steve thought to himself.
Steve felt his palms go sweaty as he recalled the moment in this space, the heavy metal cage on his cock hanging down, uncomfortably pulling his cock and balls down as they swayed. He remembered, as though it were yesterday, the laughter and the strong hands on his shoulders and back pushing him down roughly, on his all fours next to the tub.
He remembered vividly facing towards the shower stall in which he knew his wife was chained. He could see her, moments before, crying, gagging, moaning and cumming all that the same time, a large white cock in her mouth. Her body swaying and shaking from the huge black man driving his enormous uncut penis into her, steadily, balls deep each thrust. He was at least twice her size, and the way he pummeled her tiny frame, balls deep on each thrust, was as shocking as was his deep black skin against her fair, Irish complexion.
Steve remembered seeing the expression on the face of the large white man in her mouth change from laughing and smiling to the selfish and serious expression that women around the world have recognized for millennia as the visage of a man about reach orgasm. Her freckles stood out on her pale skin as they did when her skin was flushed. Her hands bound to the bar on the wall, Steve's pretty wife struggled to deal with the insisting cock.
Steve watched, amazed and in horror at his arousal as he saw the muscles in the man's back and arms corded as he grimaced and groaned, and with a hand on the back of Emily's beautiful head, roared his release. The head of his cock was deep in her mouth, and Steve saw his wife gag and struggle as jets of sperm hit the back of her throat.
Steve could only barely acknowledge even to himself the cheers and laughter of the other men, not yet serviced, or having cum only once or twice and looking for more, milled around. He could only see his darling Emily, her body starting to bounce back and forth as the black man inside her very married pussy began fucking her anew. Steve realized that the man in his wife's pussy has paused a moment to give his friend the opportunity to control the movements of the slut between them as he came.
He had been deep in her mouth before, but as he strained his release and cursed as Steve saw his balls contract and the vein in the base of his cock pulsing with the energy and power of virile youth. He was shockingly deep in her mouth, but the man did not seem to care and he held himself in that spot against the married woman struggling on his dick. Emily gagged, choked and finally sputtered as the man relaxed and withdrew, his cock still pulsing in the remnants of his orgasm.
"Good slut," the man said, his breathing somewhat stabilized. "You made me cum," and he patted Emily on her head as he wiped his cock, still oozing, across Steve's wife's face. Emily's lipstick was long gone, and her mascara a complete mess of sweat and sperm. He wiped his cock off in her red hair, the work done at the hair salon now a distant memory, her locks in jizz glued clumps around her pretty, sweaty, freckled and blotched face.
