Note and caution: This fictional story contains explicit bisexual situations, some offensive language, and reckless behavior. No resemblance between these characters and any actual person is intended or implied.
/^|^\
There are people who enjoy business trips. Those people aren't self-employed. To me, business trips mean longer hours. They mean listening to speakers and watching slide shows instead of getting actual work done. They mean meeting people whose names and faces I'm expected to remember for the next couple of days despite the near-certainty that I'll never see them again. They also mean time away from my beloved family: Helen and Hector.
This evening, I'd ordered a couple of large gyros from a Greek restaurant and had them delivered to my hotel room. I'd gone over the notes I'd taken during the day's presentations while I was eating. It took until 10:30. Then I watched some BBC to get the top stories. Then I turned out the lights and got into bed.
It wasn't five minutes later that the ruckus started. Yelling and laughing in the halls, people running and jumping and being noisy--when would they shut up?
I only waited a minute or two before I called the front desk and complained.
"Of course, sir; I'll send security to make them quiet down right away," the clerk said.
Five minutes later, there were no results; these inconsiderate people were still whooping it up and making it impossible to get to sleep.
More than a little frustrated, I got out of bed. Tomorrow's first meeting was at 8:00 and I was going to be a zombie. Why hadn't security gotten the people near my room to shut their mouths and stop stomping around the halls?
I decided to at least get some rest for my mind. I put on my swim trunks and grabbed one of the many bath towels from the shelf and left my room.
In the hallway, I dodged a couple of noisy revelers. I saw a long hand-written banner stuck to the hall wall with lots and lots of blue masking tape. Apparently, this group was here for a popular singing-competition TV show. That partly explained the noise, I supposed.
/^|^\
Unlike most motels and hotels I've seen, this place had a separate room for its hot tub. It adjoined the much larger pool room, but it was separate. I had no problem with that, because there were about ten people using the pool area, including three children who liked to shriek and splash each other. (Normally, I'm fine with that, but I was tired tonight.) I had the humid little hot tub room to myself.
The control for the jets was along the wall, near the railing. I slowly climbed down the little stairs and lowered myself onto the bench beneath the water. The still water was quite warm, but not scalding. I turned the dial to start the whirlpool jets. They would only stay on for a certain length of time--to save energy, I guessed. I set the time at 30 minutes. After that, I'd get out. Whether the partying near my room had or hadn't finished, I would go to bed then.
The jets were pretty noisy, but it was a much more soothing, soft noise than the stamping and screaming I'd left. This noise reminded me of a garden fountain or a little run of rapids in a brook. I spread my arms and leaned back against the curved wall of the hot tub. The water sounded and felt good.
It had been only a few seconds when I heard the sound of the door opening. I glanced to my left, toward the sound. A couple of fairly-good-looking women in bikinis were entering the room. I turned my head to face forward again. On a normal night, I might have wanted to talk to these two women, but right now, I hoped they would catch my antisocial behavior and leave me in peace until I was done soaking. To illustrate my mood, I shut my eyes and resolved to pretend not to hear them if they spoke to me.
"Oh. I'll be right back!" I heard one of them tell the other.
So much for being left alone.
The two ladies giggled for a moment. I heard the door. I heard the little splashes of the remaining woman entering the water. I didn't bother opening my eyes; I simply hoped she would ignore me.
Probably a minute or so later, I heard the door again. The other woman must have returned. Shit. Well, the good news was that the hot tub had to be big enough to hold ten people--maybe even a dozen. There would be plenty of room for them to relax and still keep away from me.
Even above the pleasant noise of the whirlpool, I could hear various sounds: footsteps, whispers--
--What the fuck? In an instant, I felt considerable weight pressing on both my arms. I heard splashing next to my ears. I sat up just a little--the weight on my arms kept me from sitting up fully--and I opened my eyelids in bewilderment.
I had just enough time to see a topless woman right in front of me. She had something red and yellow in her hand, which she pushed into my mouth. It was probably her swimsuit top.
The taste of diluted chlorine filled my mouth. The damp fabric kept me from saying anything. I turned my head left, then right, trying to figure out what was happening.
There were eight or nine people in the little hot tub room now. The weights on my arms were four seated people: a woman and a man pinning each arm under their lower thighs. They were just restraining me, not cutting off my circulation. Was there a--
--Hey, now! My head whipped around to face forward me again. I saw nothing for a moment, but I knew someone was there, because there were hands on both sides of my trunks, tugging. The topless woman emerged, grinning at me, after she'd pulled my swim shorts to my knees. I glared at her, but she didn't notice--or didn't care--and removed my bathing suit completely.
Well, at least I understood what was happening now. This group must have been the people partying outside my room. They must have found out that I'd called security and now they intended to humiliate me for revenge.
But the woman in front of me (a cute-looking brunette who was probably in her early 30s, I thought) just dropped my trunks into the water instead of throwing them to a friend who would take them and throw them into the pool or something. Then she advanced and clasped my penis in both her hands.
I became aware that the other people in the room were moving and talking and getting naked.
I only panicked for a second or three. Much as I might have been scared by what seemed to preparations for a spur-of-the-moment orgy, I was too absorbed in the sensations the woman's soft, skilled palms caused. My slightly-larger-than-average cock grew harder than cobalt alloy steel.
The woman sitting on my right biceps said loudly, "Should we get started on this pretty boy?"
To my dismay, everyone in the small room heard her. What was worse, everyone looked at me when she asked her question. I had the opportunity to look around quickly. More than a few of the assembled people winked or licked their lips when my eyes met theirs.
While everyone was silent, the woman in front of me shifted her hands to my ass. My cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as she hauled my pelvis upward. My erect cock broke the surface of the roiling water.
"Yes, we should!" said a tall, thin woman, hopping down the steps and into the hot tub. There were quite a few murmurs of assent from the lecherous-looking women and men who'd crowded closer to the action.
Strong fingers held my wrists, then the people sitting on my arms got up and sprang into the water. The tub was so full of flesh that it overflowed onto the textured concrete floor.
I'm pretty strong, but I knew struggling was useless. I let the group tug me to a standing position. This was when they would parade me through the door and into the room with the swimming pool, of cour--
--No, that wasn't what they intended. "Hawhurf thumfar..." I mumbled. I stopped trying when I realized no one would understand me. To my alarm, a broad-shouldered man with a well-trimmed beard and light brown hair moved to my side and slid behind me. His erection bobbed between my upper thighs for a moment. All the hands and arms on me kept me motionless while the young man started to work his fingers against my anus.