I was sitting at the table, doing some accounting biznass, when suddenly the telephone rang (one of those old-fashioned corded phones, for the record, adding to the quaint, cozy feeling of the house). I saw that the call was coming from upstairs, and I cleared my throat, and picked up, in a hotel receptionist tone: “Hello, Mr. Collier. Is there something I can help you with this evening? Did you decide what you wanted for breakfast tomorrow morning, maybe?”
“Um, yeah,” came his muffled voice over the receiver. “I was actually just looking at the menu here... Could you tell me what the Super Delight Special is, exactly? I'll be honest... I've heard some rumors about this place... There's a chance I might be interested in something like that, if what I've heard is true...”
I smiled, almost blushing, hot under the collar at the chance to get in this classy stud's pants...
God, I was insatiable...
“Yes sir...” I said, cutting directly to the chase, but nonetheless trying humorously to retain my professional, matter-of-fact sounding air. “The Super Delight Special, is me, coming up, and sucking on your cock for you... Or riding you... Or whatever it is you think you might enjoy... Or, you know, my husband could suck your cock... Or, both of us could-”
“Send your husband up,” said Mr. Collier, and suddenly I felt largely deflated. I'd really been looking forward to getting to know him a little better, and had apparently misread him, not even coming close to detecting his interest in a same sex rendezvous.
But oh well, I thought... The customer's always right, as they say.
“Right away, Mr. Collier,” trying to stay as lighthearted and cheerful as I could under the mildly disappointing circumstances, and the phone clicked back onto the receiver upstairs.
I sighed, and went to fetch Derrick, who was busy snoozing away in our Having had sex twice that morning, he'd basically been exhausted and tired looking all day, and Mr. Collier's arrival that afternoon had kept him from taking a breather until maybe an hour or so ago. I wasn't exactly sure, when the two of us had been discussing whether we'd wanted to seduce our new guest, why Derrick had responded positively to the proposition given his state of exhaustion at the time. But, he was apparently up for it, and so despite my hesitance to do so, I gently stirred him awake, brushing my hand across his cheek, until gradually he began to grunt awake.
“Babe... Mr. Collier wants to have sex with you... Are you up for it? What should I tell him?”
“Mm...” Derrick grunted, as this news had awoken him, and his eyes flew quickly open. He stirred from beneath the covers. “I'm up... I'm up...” And, I could see from the huge lump in his pants (which he hadn't bothered to change out of prior to plopping into bed), that he was indeed very, very up- although, it was of course very possible that this was just morning wood, given that he'd scarcely had a minute's notice to even let the mental image of fucking Mr. Collier to sink in for himself.
“So... Should I tell him you'll be up?”
“Yeah... He wants just me, you said?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I shrugged, trying not to let my disappointment at this show.
“Oh... Okay then... Well, tell him I'll be up in, like twenty minutes. I need to get cleaned up first.”
“You sure you're up for it?” I said, a little bit skeptical given his present demeanor. “I mean... You do know this isn't any sort of like, obligation or anything for our customers... It's completely about whether we want to do it or not.”
“No, I'm good babe. I want to. The guy was pretty hot, I've gotta say. I'm just not all the way woken up yet. I'll be good to go once I shower and slip into something more... Comfortable...”
I laughed at this as he gathered up a change of clothes under his arms, and he kissed me on the mouth.
“Brush your teeth while you're at it, hon. You kinda stink...”
He flipped me off as he stepped from the room in the direction of our downstairs bathroom, and I had to laugh again. Derrick's bisexuality was a fascinating subject for me, not to mention highly tantalizing and arousing. It was so strange... Any time we weren't in the direct vicinity of fucking going on, you might never have gotten it out of the man that he wasn't as straight as a goddamn board. He didn't eye men the same way he eyed women, or at least not in my own presence, and so when I'd first found out about his hunger for man meat early on in the exploration period of our open marriage, I was as flabbergasted as you might imagine. That man could take a cock as well as any woman I knew, just as readily as he could get a girl like me cumming her lights out with his most exquisite touch.
I loved to watch him have sex with other men... It drove me fucking crazy whenever it happened, and I was, admittedly, rather disappointed by the double blow that Mr. Collier hadn't been interested in me watching while the two of them sweated the sheets together.
But, I will admit, a bit unethically, that I hung around outside the door to his room for a bit after Derrick had gone inside- not with my ear to the paneling, or anything like that, mind you- and between what I heard and what Derrick told me about it afterward (the two of us loved the spiciness of swapping sex stories with one another), I managed to piece together a fairly accurate picture of went on behind that bedroom door, atop that newly changed bedspread, between my husband and another man.
“So... You like men,” said Derrick, sitting down gently on Mr. Collier's bed, smiling as he looked into his eyes.
“I like some men...” replied Mr. Collier- or Richard, which was his actual name, and probably a bit easier to go by during a scene of passion than “Mr. Collier.”
Derrick smiled. “So you're experienced... Are you seeing anybody?”
“My wife,” he said, emphasizing this bit, “doesn't know that I do this, sometimes when I'm on business... And I would prefer it that things stay that way...”
“Of course,” said my husband, smiling at him, leaning in as he did so. “Discretion is foremost in what my wife and I are doing here. Let's just say, that this will be our...” (peck) “Little...” (peck) “Secret...”
The two men began to kiss on the mouth, lightly, but with a wet, intense heat, that even from this side of the door, got me tingling and trembling with desire, making me wish so badly that I could watch the proceedings, but at the very least, I supposed I could paint quite the vivid mental picture regardless.
“Ohhh.... Oh yeah... Oh God.... Yes...” Derrick was slathering Rick with kisses now, sliding his hands all over his body as he rubbed and squeezed and caressed him. He began to rock his pelvis up against our guest, dry humping him with his stiff, erect penis through the layers of both men's pants, and his legs were wrapped around Rick's sides, pinning him down against the bed. Derrick seized hold of his hands, pushing Rick's arms up over his head like a set of handcuffs, and made him a servant to his love, completely subordinate to hi every domineering whim.
“Yes... Yes... Yes... Yes...”
God, this guy was really getting his kicks in... I wondered just how goddamn repressed these homosexual impulses of his really happened to be, and whether he really preferred his commitment to his wife over these random encounters, or whether he was just too senselessly ashamed of his sexuality to embrace his true self?
But of course, it was none of my damn business...
My husband, at any rate, was beginning to peel the man out of his clothes, unbuttoning his dress shirt slowly, agonizingly, rubbing his hands all over the taut contours of the man's fit, sexy physique.
“Yes... Yes... Oh God, I love you...”
I know he pretty much said this last bit in the passion of the moment, but I was torn between a quick, sudden stab of jealousy at his words, and a desire to bust out giggling. I behaved myself, though, and tried to continue being swept up in the sounds and imagery of what was going on a few mere feet away from me.
Both men, before long, were down to nothing but their underwear, Richard in his boxers, and Derrick in a tight black man thong he'd slipped into specifically for the purpose of Richard's seducti
on. His exquisite package bulged, nearly making Dick's eyes water at the sight of his... Well, his dick...
And suddenly, Richard groaned so loudly that he might have been standing right next to me, speaking in my ear, as Derrick plunged his hand down his underwear, creeping though the thick tangle of the man's pubic hair, and seizing a firm, vicious handful of his aroused, stiff as a board anatomy.
He pulled Richard's cock out into the open, and began to stroke it firmly, pumping his grip harder, harder, harder, feeling it expand, harden between his fingers, until it was so swollen, so throbbing and veiny, that clear sticky streams of jizz began to flow in abundance down the engorged shaft.
My husband smiled up at him, and opened his lips wide, bending down. He began to suck on Richard's cock, much as I'd done for him just that morning, with skills that I knew, from watching him deep throat other men, not to mention his oral skills when working on my own wet pussy, were expert and exquisite, to say the very least of it. His lips smacked as he strobed along that long, thick shaft, twisting his tongue around every inch of the thing, sliding it through his scrotum and nibbling lightly, playfully on his balls as he did so. He slid his hands beneath the warm body of his underling, his fingers curling, sinking into Dick's ass for support as he choked himself on his cock, nostrils flaring, head bobbing, nodding rhythmically, gagging on him, but continuing like a real champion in spite of the fact.
“Ohhhh, baby... Aw, fuck yeah...” At this point, old Dickie got just a little bit too excited, and began bouncing his ass up and down on the bed with enthusiasm, stabbing Derrick repeatedly in the throat with his cock, in a manner that was neither pleasurable for my husband nor himself. Realizing this, though, he cooled himself down quickly enough, settling back into place as my hubby's mouth continued to slide up and down along his cock, and gradually, he began to push him far, far beyond the limits of what he could stand.
“I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum...”
My husband, at this, pulled back ever so slightly, opening his mouth wide, and sticking his tongue out, to receive whatever load Richard might have in store for his pretty, willing little face. He splooged all over Derrick, then, throbbing as he continued to stroke his cock, splashing the thick, sticky stuff across his cheeks, tangling it in his eyelashes and hair, and by the time it was all over, getting only a relatively small fraction of the stuff into his open, receptive mouth.
When at last he was drained, he sighed, leaning back, and Derrick put his sticky face forward into him, sucking off the last few drops of sperm from the tip of his prick.
“Awwwwww, yeeeeeeah...” That was nice, said Richard, stroking my husband's hair. “Sorry about the aim there... I got a little bit carried away, I think...”
“Don't worry about it,” said Richard, smiling, and to drive home the point, he leaned in, and kissed the man, slathering him up in a quantity of his own fluids, and pouring what small amount he had on his tongue into Dick's open mouth.
Dick smiled, breathing low, and Derrick stepped away from him, moving over to the dresser to retrieve one of the wash cloths we had stored there for occasions just such as this. He fumbled around, and as I heard one of the drawers slide open I realized with surprise that I'd forgotten something earlier that morning...
My husband, smiling, lifted up the pair of lacy black panties that I'd left in the drawer from our encounter with the Joneses earlier. Amused, he turned around with the dainty little things in his hands, showing them to Richard, and Richard couldn't help but laugh.
“From one of our past customers, apparently,” he said, and then tucked the panties back into the drawer before finding the correct one in which the wash cloths were stored.
Derrick climbed back over onto the bed with Richard, and began to dab away the sperm from both of their faces, slowly, tenderly, in a manner that was marked by a strange excess of intimacy. They kissed, more and more passionately, as this progressed, until finally they said to hell with it and cast the rag aside, wrapped up in one another's bodies as they suddenly were, grinding, pushing, unraveling, my husband's tight thong being shed from his form, and the two fellows' collected nakedness melting sensually into a sexy, steaming mass.
My husband was versatile as far as being a gay lover was concerned. He enjoyed bottoming just as much as he enjoyed topping, but overwhelmingly, the men he pleasured during their visits here seemed to vastly prefer being fucked by my husband as opposed to doing the fucking. My rationale was that, presuming there were some repressed gay impulses on their part that they were taking this opportunity to indulge, they could just as easily perform penetration on the body of a female, but the feeling of being penetrated by such a well-hung male partner was a wholly separate beast entirely.
Mr. Collier was no exception to this general rule, it seemed. My husband had climbed up on top of him from behind, mounting him like a damn animal on his hands and knees. He'd groaned quite excessively as Derrick pushed his prick up inside him, sliding in with his engorged tip first, and then following that up with inch by inch of his glorious curved shaft until at last he touched down deep within the man's body, and he let out a tremendous, shivering sigh.
My ass rang with a sort of sympathy for the man- believe you me, I knew what he was experiencing right now... My husband could really stretch a girl out, in the most wonderful of ways, and so I supposed it must be the same for a closeted bisexual, to some extent or another.
Derrick began to grind slowly, gently in and out of Richard's tight, hot butthole and Richard, all the while, clenching the sheets in his fists, closing his eyes, and taking it all in, every last, long, veiny throbbing inch of it. Sweat trickled along his spine and he shivered, the agonizing pleasure consuming him as he rode back and forth along my husband's dick, and his enthusiasm growing, as a lurid grin spread wide across his lips.
“Go on... Yeah... Fuck me... Fuck me... Ohhhhh... Harder... Harder... Harder... Faster... Fuck... Faster... Faster... Harder...”
Before long, Dick was screaming. My husband was really tearing into him, smashing his tight little ass with the heaving force of his pelvis, their sweaty bodies producing a loud, wet clapping sound, so intense and so startling that it actually made my eyes go wide, difficult as it was to imagine being ass-fucked at such a brutal pace and yet Richard, God bless him, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely all the while, right up to the very end.
“God... God.. God... Fuck... Fuck... Yes... Yes!!!”
And WHAM!
“OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Richard moaned, to be honest, almost exactly like a woman as my husband jammed his cock up inside him one final time, his body ringing with prostate organ as Derrick hit his sweet spot, and began to unload himself wildly all over him. My husband filled our guest's tight hot ass with sperm, unleashing what I knew to be a vicious load of seed all up into his tight pink thing, and at last, after several thick pulses of throbbing pleasure being transferred from Derrick's body's to Dick's, he collapsed on top of him in exhaustion, crushing him sexily with his sweaty, powerful body, and extricating himself from the man's lucky, lucky back side.
They kissed and groped and fondled one another for some time and after a while, I could hear the bed commencing to shake once more, indicating a round two of their sexual escapades. I figured I'd had my share of ease-dropping at that point, and I headed back downstairs- where, mind you, I could still hear the bed rattling above my head and I decided to join them vicariously by grabbing my vibrator, slipping into the shower and rumbling myself to sweet, splendid climax beneath the heated streams of water.
God, I was a lucky, lucky woman...
Chapter 3
The rest of our week passed along fairly uneventfully. Mr. Collier had left the following morning after his evening sweating the sheets with my husband. It was kind of funny, honestly, he had this sort of uptight, professional demeanor on his departure, as though nothing at all had happened during the course of his stay. I had to suppress an intense urge to laugh as he le
ft, but I could honestly understand and respect his desire not to delve any further into the matter. It was, after all, his business- and my husband's I supposed. So that was that.
After him, things remained pretty light. We had a couple of other guests during the week, both single, a man and a woman, and though either of them would have made fine bedfellows, neither of them took the bait of our specialty menu, so we didn't push the point any further. And then, in a rare turn of events, there was no one at all booked for Saturday and Sunday, no one but a sweet little old elderly couple and no, we did not fuck them or offer to do so. But they were pleasant enough company, regaling us with boring stories until they conked out at about nine o'clock or so, and as far as customers went, they were largely hassle free, requiring a minimum degree of hassle or clean-up and sometimes in the business, that was honestly about the damn best thing you could ask for in your clientele.
And then Monday rolled around...
On Monday, the couple walked into our door that was about to rock my goddamn world. The Smiths had made a reservation a couple of weeks in advance and had surprised us by reserving the room upstairs for the whole week. This was the first time such a thing had ever occurred, and though the payment for that long was certainly welcome, it left us facing the prospect of either one of two possibilities sexually. We didn't know what they looked like or what their attitudes about sex were until they got here, so this was either going to be a very boring week without an ounce of “outside exploration,” or else Derrick and I were going to be so stupendously oversexed by the time all was said and done that we'd need to spend the whole next damn week closed just to recuperate our strength.
Game of Throbs Complete Series (Books 1-3) Page 57
