6 comments/ 61801 views/ 12 favorites Hotel Bargain Ch. 01 By: victormask It was late and the lounge nearly empty and I debated whether or not to order one more drink before returning to my room. The final minutes of a lopsided football game lit the television overhead. I pretended to watch. I ordered a last drink. The only other guy at the bar ordered one more also. When the bartender returned with his beer, I was close enough to hear the man ask him, "Hey. Do you know where to call for a whore? I mean...an escort?" He asked without a hint of self-conscientiousness---like asking for a good restaurant. Only after the bartender rebuffed his question with a look of impatient disgust did the man give a hint of embarrassment. "Oh...I forgot this is a high class place. I'm sorry...I'm really fucking sorrrry." He laughed---too loud--- a little drunk. "My wife will be glad to know that I'm staying at such a wonderful establishment." He laughed again. I laughed too. He was clearly feeling good. He caught me smiling which only encouraged him to laugh louder. The man took another drink and declared in the bartender's direction, "It's just that I'm so horny man." And with a feigned look of despair he said, "Fuck. I'm so horny I'd let a fag suck me off." Silence. And then a forced belly laugh that drew the attention of the only other remaining patrons sitting at a far away table. The bartender ignored him, continued cleaning, and then pushed through the door into the kitchen. He looked over at me, held his drink up in a toast-salute of victory, and slurred, "Ah, fuck him." I lifted by drink in response. It occurred to me in an instant. That is, what I was about to do occurred to me in an instant; but the desire that drove it had nagged and obsessed me for years. I watched him take a gulp of his beer now nearly gone. I surveyed this business man with his tie and shirt collar loosened, and recognized a character in the scenario that had fueled a fantasy of mine for years---an elusive figure that lived only as long as a session of jacking myself off---middle-aged, tall, with extra, but not excessive pounds that disguised the athlete he might have been in high school or college. Just a guy; a regular guy that drank beer and watched weekend football with friends and took his kids to sports practice during the week; a regular guy that fucked his wife a couple times a week, but felt no guilt after a happy-ending massage in some hotel room, only a sale call away from home. He swallowed the last of the beer and before he could get his suit coat on I said "Hey guy...uh...hey let me ask you something." I moved toward him with my drink...the drink that emboldened me to do what I had only play-acted in my fantasies. "I...uh...I heard what you were asking the bartender. You really got him going. That was funny man." He smiled, "Yeah...that was funny. I didn't think he'd get so bent outa shape about it. That was funny." I pressed on. "Let me ask you. Were you serious about the other stuff? Ah...you know... the faggot stuff?" The smile left his face. I knew I was on touchy ground but pushed ahead. "Hey, don't get me wrong. I'm not a faggot." I showed him my wedding ring. "I'm married...18 years...two kids..." He stared back at me, stern and tense looking. "Yeah, so?" "Well this is weird I know, but...I...I think I can help you out. I have this thing I'd like to do, and, uh I think we could help each other out. "I'm not into any queer shit, man. I think you're looking for somebody else." I interrupted to make my case, to appeal to the one weakness to which most men will surrender. "I'm not gay...I'm not queer. But I have this fantasy of..." I looked back over my shoulder to make sure no one was in ear shot and then I spoke softer but with urgent sincerity... "I have this fantasy of sucking a guy off. He doesn't do anything to me...nothing...nothin' but sit back, have a beer and enjoy some good head. I know it's fucking weird but..." The man cocked his head back and his eye brows pinched in disbelief. Was I maneuvering to catch him in a humiliating joke or entrap him in a sting? "I don't think so dude." "Listen," I said. "No strings attached". I whispered now, "I come up to your room...get down on my knees...suck you off...and go. That's it. Nothing else--- I just want to suck and go back to my room." The pleading in my voice appeared to ease his doubt. His expression relaxed. I could see him weighing the possibilities. He detected the sincerity in my whispered proposition; the offer of submission righted his masculinity. He could use what I was offering. After a moment he spoke; this time with more confidence and control in his voice. "I'm not into any gay shit. I wouldn't do anything to you." "Yes," I responded with restrained eagerness. "That's all I'm asking. That's it. I understand...I do all the work." He was finding his footing now. "Listen to me...this is how it would work. You suck 'til I shoot and then you get the fuck out. If you do any queer shit like try to kiss me or finger me I'll fuckin' punch your face. You get it?" "Yes," I said emphatically. "That's all. I get it." He was taking control, and the realization that I was surrendering---as I had done so many times in dreams---sent a wave of heat through my legs and up into my chest. My cock stirred with anticipation and fear. I could feel my breaths shorten as the scenario took shape---my legs weakened as I watched my submission fill him with power. He straightened his stance, and his chest filled with full easy breaths as he assumed the role he knew was his. He was not much taller than me, but now he looked down on me with selfish superiority. He was used to intimidating men less assertive than himself, and I had just offered unconditional surrender---a cock sucker pleading to blow some stranger in a hotel room. I barely heard the last of his instructions as he took full possession of the deal I offered. I waited for several minutes before reporting to the room number he had scribbled on a napkin. The elevator delivered me to his floor and I walked the long hallway of identical doors, silent except for the hum of an ice machine and the muffled laugh of late night TV. I heard nothing behind the door of 6-D. I stared at the door knob and heard my erratic breaths. I knocked quietly and looked back down the hall at the elevator as its doors closed. 6-D opened a few inches and I heard the businessman's voice, "Come on." I pushed the door open slowly and walked into the room's dark narrow entryway. I saw the shirtless man standing near the foot of the bed, lit only by the flickering of a TV that I could not see. I closed the door behind me and took a few steps into the room toward the man. In the television light I could see his build---large upper arms, broad chest, and full but firm stomach. He sipped from a beer bottle in his large, thick-fingered hand. He stared at the television and first spoke to me without looking in my direction: "Okay fucker---let's go." He tapped his belt buckle with the tip of the beer bottle and I knew what he wanted me to do. I moved to him and started to undo the buckle. "Get down," he said with a deadpan voice, and I complied, lowering myself onto my knees in front of him. I undid his belt and the clasp of his pants. My fingers fumbled as I found the zipper and pulled it jerkily downward. His pants peeled open and I could see the crisp white of his underwear. I felt his heat as I tugged his pants downward to the middle of his thighs, and now I could discern the outline and bulge of his cock. I heard him take another swig from the bottle and he belched before the bottle was back at his side. "Okay bitch, here's the deal. When you get that cock out, you got about two minutes to show me what you can do. I want to see you work on that fucking meat, and if you do it good, I'll let you stick around and suck me off. If you don't, I'm gonna kick your pervert ass out of here. Got it?" "Yes Sir," I said. He laughed and belched again. He tossed the empty bottle to the floor beside me. "Yes SIR," he barked, mocking my obedience. "That's good bitch. You call me Sir, and I'll call you cock sucker. How's that sound, cock sucker?" "Fine Sir." His increasingly harsh manner thrilled and frightened me in equal measure. My cock was stiff, but my thighs ached and twitched with tension and fear. "Fine Sir, what?" he demanded. "Fine that I call you Sir and fine that you call me cocksucker, Sir." "That's a good cocksucker" he grunted, and without more words he pulled the front of his underwear down. I barely saw his cock appear before his hand cupped the back of my head and pulled my face into his warm crotch. "Open up cocksucker! Let's see what you can do." His hand fed the fleshy club into my mouth and he pushed it in deep. "Suck!" I sucked. I sucked his thickening cock without reservation, pulling deep breaths through my nose. I sucked to communicate my submission---exhilarated by his demeaning words, intoxicated by my loss of control. "Mmm...yeah...suck it bitch...all the way down," the stranger insisted, pushing my head down firmly now and holding his near stiff cock at the back of my throat until I coughed out around his shaft and heaved a gag. I heard him laugh a burst of breath through his nose. He slapped the back of my head and re-inserted the hard dick back into my mouth. I sucked and I sucked. My audition lasted longer than a few minutes. I continued to work his stiff cock in and out of my mouth, cupping his full sack with one hand and intermittently pulling a stroke of his shaft with the other, just as I had watched video porn sluts do for their mammoth-cocked men. Whenever I felt the large hand on the back of my head I picked-up my pace and opened wider for more of his dick. "Get me another beer cock sucker. They're in the bathroom." The man pulled his cock out of my mouth with these words and I knew I had passed my test---I would have more sucking to do. It felt good to get up off my knees. I followed his order and pushed wide the crack of light coming from the bathroom door and saw two beers in an ice bucket beside the sink. The light was harsh compared to his darkened room and I was squinting as I caught my reflection in the mirror---a flushed and buzzed looking cocksucker staring back at me. My lips felt warm and looked red from the hundreds of passes of his cock. The dose of reality did not deter me from my fantasy-come-to-life. In fact, the cocksucker in the mirror knew I had no choice; I was in too deep to turn back and the demanding stranger in the hotel room was now waiting for his beer and his blowjob. I grabbed one of the beers, wiped off the wetness with a white hand towel, and unscrewed the cap. I pulled the door almost closed as I returned to the room. Now I saw clearly the TV screen in the armoire-style cabinet. The man had moved to the easy chair beside the bed and was staring back toward the set where a short haired brunette was getting her face fucked by a long thick cock---saliva and stringy pre-cum rolled down her chin and dripped onto her tits. She had been at it awhile and her anonymous partner was holding her head, pinching her jaws open, coming in for the kill. I walked over to my still anonymous boss and handed him his beer. His pants were off now, and his legs stretched out wide marking in a V the location where I should plant my knees, and I did. For the first time his cock was in full view to me and despite the fact that I had just been sucking it, I was embarrassed to think of him watching me as I surveyed the prize meat. I glanced up at him, but he was staring right past me, still focused on the video blowjob. I went back to work. His cock had gone partially flaccid and the feel of it growing stiff in my mouth sent a renewed shiver of servitude through me. "Cocksucker" I thought. I was his cocksucker and only that. And, that was all I wanted to be for him---a warm mouth to stick his dick into. As he leisurely sipped his beer I sucked the bulky stranger eagerly, competing with the whore he watched on the screen. Half a beer later, he acknowledged me once again, with a firm hand on the back of my head and orders to get his cock in deeper. "Come on cocksucker---get down there." I responded with more eagerness in my suck and I took as much of the dick into my mouth and throat as I could. He slid up in the chair, resting his ass on the edge of the cushion and I bent even lower to keep the stiff meat fully in my mouth. He gulped the rest of the beer. "Get me that last beer cocksucker." I stood and hurried toward the bathroom for his drink. I could still feel the alcohol in my legs and I stumbled a bit as I passed the end of the bed. "What the fuck, bitch? Are you drunk you cocksucker?" He was standing up as I returned with the beer and as I handed it to him I said, "Yes Sir...a little." "Well, we better get you home cocksucker," he said, and he took a long gurgling slug of the fresh drink. His dick stood out and upward, fully erect. He looked back at the TV screen where a different woman was working intently on a new, but equally large cock. He looked around, spotted the remote control and turned up the volume which had been barely audible until now. "Get down, right here, cocksucker," he said, pointing to the floor in front of his feet. He stood with the back of his thighs against the desk, and when I took my position in front of him, I could still see the TV out the corner of my eye. His dick looked even bigger as he stood. I took his cock in my hand, gave it a couple strokes and lowered my mouth over it once again. "Put your hand down cocksucker. Just your mouth," he instructed harshly. I lowered them to his thighs and his left hand smacked the back of my head. "You don't need to touch me fucker! Put your fucking hands behind your back and suck." I put my hands and arms loosely behind my back, and the looming man took hold of my ears, one in each hand, pinching them between his thumbs and fingers. He held my head tight and still, and began to pump his fat meat into my face, fucking my mouth with steady, forceful thrusts. The strokes went deeper and I began to drool. I gagged and he paused for a few seconds. I drooled uncontrollably now, the wetness smeared around my lips and over his entire cock He pushed the dick back in and resumed fucking. I felt a surge of fear for the first time since entering the room. I knew he was getting ready to finish with me. The man let go of my ears, but I kept up my work, forcing my mouth down with-out the aid of my hands, intermittently going down deep enough to illicit a coughing gag. He liked this, and so did the man in the video. I could hear the video slut gag and slurp and then the demeaning encouragement of her stiff-dicked partner. My boss did likewise. "Oh yeah...ah fuck yeah...suck it...that's what you wanted bitch...you're the one that wanted to suck that fucking cock. Right?" "Yes Sir," I gasped quickly and resumed sucking---furiously now. I could hear him chuckle, then moan. His hands wrapped the sides and back of my head now and he pumped his cock into my face with more intensity. I caught a glimpse of the TV as I sucked. The small chested woman was getting her throat fucked, spittle and pre-cum everywhere---her mascara running down her cheeks in tracks of gag induced tears. I felt my superior's cock stiffen even more and my saliva thickened in his pre-cum. I lifted my head from his cock and strings of his fluid ran from my mouth to his dick. I caught a breath and tried to clear my throat. "Hey fucker! Don't you stop now! This is what you fucking came up here to do and you're gonna' suck me off bitch. Get on this dick and don't come up til you're done." I did not resist. I did not want to. I wanted the same prize as he did. But, my work was becoming difficult now and I hoped he would not last much longer. My fantasy was melting in the reality of his cold determination and his warm, throat clotting strings of cum. I sucked him obediently. He fucked my mouth the way I had dreamed it for years. The TV was loud now with moans of male ecstasy...halting, taught...then cries of release. The woman yelped and gulped as he jacked ropes of cum into her open mouth and across her face. The strangers cock in my mouth was close behind them, and he pulled it from my mouth long enough to stroke it to his practiced peak. He rested one hand on my head, not letting me away, and jacked with the other. I moaned with anticipation and shuttered in the long moment. He clenched his jaw and breathed short furious breaths through his teeth. He opened his closed eyes and looked down on me, flushed and in another world. He exhaled heavily, a rising moan from his chest. "Oh yeah...oh fuck...," he sighed. He was close now. "Oh yeah, here it is cock sucker." And with that, he pulled my head back to him and pushed the pulsing cock back into my mouth. Both of his hands grasped my head tightly, covering most of my ears. I heard only the man's muffled words as his cock stroked several times though my lips. He pumped fast, then held steady, then pumped again and the hard dick let go a pulse of warm cum into my mouth and I did not resist its path to my throat. I swallowed and sucked. His hands clamped harder around my head. I sucked and swallowed, sucked then swallowed. Then, suddenly, I could take no more into my throat and I gagged his cock out of my mouth and coughed out strings of cum and saliva into my hand. I caught a breath and he prodded me back to finish my work. I stroked his wet and cum covered dick with my hand, and he pushed it back into my mouth. I sucked and he oozed small aftershocks of cum into my mouth. I handled him now, sucking and swallowing in time with the last pumps of his dick. He slowed and came to rest. His dick was softening but he did not pull it from my mouth. He held it there and looked down at me with contempt. Finally he withdrew the fleshy tool and let it dangle over me. He took it in his hands and smacked it on my wet face and forehead. I felt the stickiness with each smack. Thwack. Thwack. I waited for his next instruction. He walked into the bathroom and stood at the toilet and let go a torrent of piss. I stood up and looked for something to wipe my face. I saw nothing and headed toward the bathroom for a towel. The man, still finishing his piss, looked up and said, "Get the fuck out of here. You're done, get out of here." "I just want to wipe my face...I just need a ...." He interrupted, "Get the fuck out of here! You got a towel in your room. Go back to your room cocksucker." The man milked the last drops of piss and didn't look up again. I wiped my face with my hands and my hands onto my pants. I went to the door, opened it and looked down the hall toward the elevator. It was easily 3A.M.. I left the room and closed 6D behind me. I ducked into the stairwell and hurried down three flights of steps to my floor and made my way to my room without anyone's notice. Hotel Bargain Ch. 02 I sat in the hotel dining room where other business men and women were starting their day over run-of-the-mill continental breakfast, USA Today, and mercifully low-volume CNN. Cell phone mumbling surrounded me. The coffee was good however, and I was well into my second cup, trying to clear my head of the alcohol and the bizarre event that had ended only a few hours ago. I felt conspicuous in the room, as if my humiliating escapade would somehow be common knowledge by now---surely, my morning shower and fresh shirt could not hide my guilty exhaustion. My eyes buzzed with lack of sleep. Were my lips still puffy and red? I swear I could still smell his sack on my hands---I checked them periodically. Luckily---miraculously even---my day's schedule was light; the end of what had been a hectic four-day trip around my territory. I could handle a couple brief meetings, call it a day, and start my drive home. I'd catch a rest stop nap if needed. The drive would allow me time to recount last night's experience, and time to pack away my guilty knowledge before facing my wife and my weekend life. Jesus! I can't fucking believe it! Did I really do that? Jesus! What the fuck's wrong with me? I went back to the coffee urns and poured one more half cup and realized it was him reaching around me for a cup. "Good morning," he said casually. I didn't respond. "Where you sitting?" he asked, and I nodded toward the table near the window and returned to my chair with my coffee. I sat and watched him feed a sliced bagel into the toaster. He sipped his coffee while he waited. I couldn't reconcile his mundane activity with what I knew about him. He looked rested and ready for the day. He gave no hint of having been up until 3 a.m. watching blowjob videos, sipping beers, and pumping his cock into some guys mouth. He took a bite out of the bagel and chewed as he headed toward my table. The man sat, still chewing as he pulled his chair forward, and he asked, "How'd you sleep?" He sipped his coffee and looked directly at me for the first time and continued, "I slept great man. I could use another hour, but I slept fucking great. I got some great fucking head last night and it did the trick." He smiled, and spread butter across the open bagel. "How about you? Did you get any last night?" he laughed through his nose as he sank his teeth into the roll. As I had dressed that morning, I debated about coming down to breakfast, knowing full well that I might be faced with a gloating stranger---some guy who had just used my mouth for the better part of two fucking hours. But, the disbelief and disgust at my actions were easily overpowered by the chemical rush that had engulfed me as I first kneeled in front of him to undo his pants. The man's stern commands were on repeat in my memory---each selfish word. I had rested little in the hours before the alarm sounded; flashes of the demeaning events blending with my half-sleep, my half-dreams. I had determined that, not only could I bear the breakfast confrontation, I welcomed it. I wanted to see the guy I had serviced so intensely. I wanted to see, in daylight, the business man attached to the cock I sucked so obediently. I needed that reality more than I dreaded it, and his new taunts invigorated and shamed me. The man eased off now. He knew I had no face-saving response to his quips. I think he could see my tiredness and was confident that his dominance was secure. He looked around, and then in a lower and less mocking voice he spoke again. "Hey, man. That was some great head. I wasn't sure I was going to get into that, but you sucked like a fucking champ." He ripped off another bite of his bagel and continued, "Are you sure that was the first time you ever did that? I think that's what you said." I nodded my confirmation, not feeling it necessary to include a single, and unsatisfying, "experiment" with an acquaintance many years ago---many. Finally, I managed to get a word into the air. "Yeah. It's just something...I don't know... I thought about for a long time...and...I...just..." I paused, not really remembering what I wanted to express. "Just a fantasy I guess. I'm not into anything else with men...just that." I didn't need to detail my long fascination with cock sucking, watching hours of blowjob porn---straight porn---envying the woman slobbering on some headless guy's dick. I've wanted to wrap my hands around that cock for years, but never ventured beyond my computer screen fantasy. But, in my mind's eye, I have been practicing for years. I spoke again, "This was just a lucky...uh...lucky match I guess. I have to admit I enjoyed it too. But, I'm just a little freaked out right now. I have to think it out a little yet." "Hey man, I know what you mean," the business man responded with something close to empathy for the first time. But it was very concrete, "Don't worry man, I'm clean. I was talking big in the bar last night---I was loaded---but I don't do shit with whores. A hand job massage, once in a great while. That's it. I'm married too. And believe me, I sure don't do any shit with guys." He paused, and then leaned forward with a serious look, as if to offer some great insight, "But this is kind of different. I've seen this stuff on the internet---men like you, who only want to suck a guy---blow and go stuff---just like what you did on me---service a bigger guy's cock." It sounded more crude than I wanted it to sound, but in fact, he had my number. I know well the "blow and go" profile---that "stuff on the internet." And, his expression of concern about safety provided me with some relief---not enough, but some reassurance---about the state of his health. I welcomed that. "Yeah, I guess that's what I mean," I said. "It's a little different than that, but close". "Well, it was pretty hot, man. I got off a good fucking load," he said shaking his head, and relaxing back into his chair. He looked at his watch. "Listen. I'm going to be back in town, at this hotel, in two weeks. Two weeks from yesterday. I want you to get here and do me again. I think we can help each other out. That's exactly the way you put it in the bar last night. You were right." He bent forward again, and whispered with a menacing intensity, "I--- know--- you. I know how to handle you. Let's get this together and see what happens. One more time." He paused, two, maybe three seconds and added, "Cocksucker." He caught me off guard, "I don't know. I...uh...I'd have to..." He broke in impatiently, "You don't know what?" Now he whispered between clenched teeth, "Don't give me that shit, fucker. I know you can do it, and I know god damn well you need to do it, so don't bullshit me. Don't bullshit yourself." He stared directly into my eyes, "By this time tomorrow you'll be counting the hours 'til you suck me again and you know it! I know you're already hooked on this dick." I couldn't muster a convincing denial, and he tossed one more cruel truth across the table, "The way I saw you working on that meat...Man!...you looked like you were in fuckin' heaven...like an addict with a bag of dope in your face. Actually, you are an addict---and I'm offering you every addict's dream---a very big score. Big! You know enough about me now. You can trust me. It'll be good... very intense...but very good for you. I know, what you, need." He sat back, slowly, and pulled at the front of his collar to adjust his tie. He looked around the room for a moment, stood up, and took his cup over to the service counter. I watched him fill his cup and exchange a few pleasantries with the attendant who was freshening and rearranging fruit and pastries. He loomed over the chubby, older woman. She giggled at some comment he made, and when she responded, the man laughed out loud and touched her arm lightly to cement their connection. "Okay...have a good day now honey," I heard her say as he walked back in my direction. As he sat down, he pulled a small notebook from the inside pocket of his suit coat. He flipped it open, laid it flat, and with a pen from the same pocket made a fast circle inside the Thursday square, two weeks away. He pushed the pen and calendar across the table. "Write your email there," he instructed. I didn't make any pretense of resistance, and I neatly recorded the address I had never seen or written except on the screen of a computer---the address I reserved for my illicit communiqués. I stared at it, on the page, floating in the circle. That collection of numerals and letters had solicited and received years of digital fuel for my cock sucking obsession---anonymously. No one except the business man sitting across from me, sipping his coffee, had ever seen the face that it represented. And no one but him had done more than write about fucking my face. I wanted to unzip him now. I slid the notebook back to him. He tucked it away brusquely, checked his watch and stood up. "Okay. I'll talk to you," he said, and he left the dining room. I returned to my room and took a last piss before leaving. I looked at the mirror, examining my lips and the inside of my mouth where his cock had worked so furiously. I smelled my hands and washed them again. I gathered up my suitcase and computer and left the room to start my day. His first email made its way into my computer early Sunday morning. In the subject line, lower case letters arranged themselves to spell "cocksucker". The sender's name, I didn't recognize. But I knew whose face---and cock---it represented. The stranger now had a presence in my house. The flashback of my fantasy-come-true injected me again with a surge of exhilaration; but in the confines of my home office, a blast of guilt and vulnerability followed close behind. My cock buzzed and filled almost to erectness. I listened to the blend of cooking, kids, and television downstairs. The mouse felt clumsy in my anxious hand and I paused a moment before I clicked open the illicit message. "Cocksucker" was the only salutation. "I was just thinking about fucking your mouth the other night and hearing you gag on my cock and cum. I would guess that you've been thinking about that too---about getting your face smacked with my fat wet dick and the feel of my cum in your throat. That's good. Think about that a lot, and think about your next suck session. Send an email to tell me what you're going to do for my cock." That was all. I closed the email, but couldn't close the man's obscene comments from my thoughts. He was right. More than any image, I had pictured him looming over me, flopping his spent cock onto my wet face, lingering in his superiority, looking down on his bitch and taunting me with the heavy, flaccid tool. He had rubbed it across me, pushing it back into my mouth for a few more dick-cleaning sucks. Even after cumming he maintained his cockmaster role. For him, the release let loose no guilt or return to reality. He was comfortable in his superiority, and willing to exploit my submission without reservation. He could expel me from his room only minutes later, without gratitude or sympathy. Not me. I had scurried back to my room to jack off, only to have all my desire and fantasy expelled into the towel with my cum. Anxious and guilt ridden, I could scarcely sleep. Meanwhile, the man who had used me so crudely rested easily and slept soundly just a few floors above me. I waited until later in the evening to respond. The house was quiet now---kids settled down in their room. My wife read in bed, half-watching TV. It was not unusual for me to continue work in the office well after everyone said good night. I was eager for this quiet moment to respond to the man's message. When I was confident of my privacy and safety from interruption, I opened his email and read it again. I contemplated my response "Sir," I started, and then I began to compose my acknowledgement of his email and its contents. The hours between my first reading of his note and this late moment had built in me such a need to respond that I launched into an unrestrained admission of my cocksucker addiction and the power of his cock over me. The hypnotic glow of the monitor and my erect dick fueled my submissive confession---I revealed desires and inferiorities in too great detail. As directed, and in equally humiliating specifics, I told him what I would do for his cock at our next meeting. The cathartic stream filled two pages before I stopped. I loosened the tie of my sweat pants and tugged the waist band and my briefs down to my thighs. I saw the blot of my dark secrets inside my underwear, and I massaged my dick made rigid by my perverted pledge and the image of the stranger's cock I had promised to serve. I stroked my cock to the edge of no return. The head of my dick bulged full and leaked clear beads. I was so close now, and I wished fiercely that my next meeting with the man's cock was sooner. I halted my pumping and typed "cocksucker" at the bottom of my message and I clicked the send button. The filthy text disappeared and I pictured the recipient at his computer--- naked, cock and sack hanging over the front of his chair. I stroked intently, held my breath, and then exhaled haltingly as my dick released semen and reality. I checked my email repeatedly during the next few days---every private moment at work and at home. I had expected a quick reply to my confession and my offer of total subordination. The empty mail box hurt and deflated me. I conjured scenarios of rejection: my letter was too much---too explicit---even for the man who demanded that I meet him again to suck his cock. I became embarrassed by the perverted plea I sent him, and re-reading it only made it worse. Had I sounded so disgustingly desperate that I repelled him? Everyone, even the stranger, has their limits. I wanted my letter back. I had fucked up my one chance to explore my secret desire. By mid-week I was desperate and nearly disoriented by the absence of a response. Now I had to start to waiver on the earliest of my excuses to co-workers and my wife as to why I would be out of town next week---retreating on the certainty and the urgency, but leaving the door open---trying to leave the door open without drawing undo attention to the matter. I could not measure my performance: too much explanation, not enough? I am not a confident liar and I was walking a mine field of guilt and desire. Fuck! God damn it! Fuck. Thursday night, just before bed, I made one last trip to my computer and logged on to my clandestine mail box. There it was. There I was, in the subject line, "cocksucker". I could scarcely contain a yelp of joy and relief. I opened the message and read the short but thrilling note: "Just confirming our appointment---one week from today. I will be there by 5pm. Call me from your room at 5:30---no later. Ask the desk for Mr. Heyburn. I'll give you instructions from there. I'm sure you won't let me down cocksucker. Attached are a few pics. Bring your appetite! I got your letter." I opened the attachments, one at a time. A large naked cock appeared: thick, long, with a full head on it. It was a nice dick with full balls in a perfect sack. I could not tell if it was him however. In fact, it seemed too big to be his. I had been impressed by the stranger's cock that I had only seen in dim light, but this well lit cock was too large to be the one I had sucked. The dick hung confidently out of unzipped pants, standing close to the edge of a desk or dining room table. I clicked the next picture and the same cock now rested in the owner's hand. This picture aroused me...I lingered on the attachment for a few moments, and then opened the last photo. Now the thick waisted man stood over the corner of the table and the large cock and balls lay heavily across a pocket calendar opened flat on the table surface. And there near the tip of the dick was the red circle around my email address. The cock pointed at the Thursday of our meeting, now just one week away. I wanted to stare longer at the dick that filled my computer screen, but I closed the much welcomed email and went to bed. I was ecstatic and still stiff. I pictured my Thursday ahead as I moved close to my wife and rubbed my cock against her ass. She rolled toward me; I hiked her night gown up, and yanked down her panties. I fucked her. I arrived at the hotel about 4PM and settled into my room. I had planned to arrive early so I could relax and compose myself, not sure of what lay ahead---if anything. I showered, changed into comfortable clothes, looked absent-mindedly at the TV, and paced. I opened my laptop to check my email. There it was. I opened the man's message. "Hello bitch. Saw you checking in downstairs. I'll be ready for you soon. Call me like I told you." It was 5:20 and I could wait no longer. I called the front desk and asked in as nonchalant a voice as I could muster, "Mr. Heyburn's room please." "Yes Sir," the clerk answered. It rang three, four times, and then the man answered. "Yes?" It was him---calm, curt. I spoke, but barely. "Sir...it's me." "Who?" he countered. "Cocksucker, Sir. This is your cocksucker. I hope I'm not calling too early." "No, you're not calling too early. I want to go down to the lounge and have a couple drinks. But come to my room first. Five minutes. Room 8C. Five minutes." "Yes Sir..." I answered, but the phone hung up before he could have heard me. Five minutes. I was too exhilarated. I had made it here and the man was waiting for me. I paced the floor and punched the air. Fuck! Yes! I was too eager and too anxious---I couldn't calm my racing thoughts or my racing heart. "Slow down...settle down," I told myself. I went to the bathroom and rinsed my face once more. "Calm down. Calm down." I took slower breaths and dried my face. I sat on the corner of the bed and told myself to absorb the moment. I had made it here and I had managed, somehow, to put a hold on my other world---my real life. I breathed in deeply. This was the very moment in the scene I had imagined again and again and I was ready to perform my perverted role. I saw my reflection in the mirror above the dresser. I think it was me. I composed myself. I was ready---ready to face whatever the stranger had in store for me. I looked around my room once more...suitcase, shoes, computer, bright light coming through the late afternoon window...I didn't recognized any of it. My legs lifted my torso from the bed and moved me to the door. Unlike my previous trip to the stranger's room, the hallways and elevator lobbies were filled with end-of-the-workday activity and noise. An attractive woman waited at the elevator as I approached and she looked up and smiled and offered a polite "hello". "Hello," I responded, and we looked at each other for an extended moment before she looked down. Her business attire did not disguise a full, shapely figure. I looked at her crisp, white blouse, the buttons pulling slightly across her breasts. I could smell her perfume and I fixated for a moment on her perfect ear. I thought about kissing it and cupping her tits. The elevator chime sounded. The door opened to reveal a nearly full car of suits and briefcases. She stepped on and turned around to face the hall where I remained standing. Our eyes met once more and she was still smiling as the doors slid shut. The red arrow darkened indicating the box's decent. The other elevator opened to reveal a single business man and a hotel maid with an armful of white towels. I stepped on and pushed "8". The man got off on the seventh floor and the maid held her position as I pushed eight again. The doors opened and the uniformed woman in white gym shoes stepped out quickly and turned left into the hallway. I looked at the room numbers on the wall plaque and also turned to the left to search for the letter "C". She was well ahead of me when she stopped at the linen cart parked in the hall. I kept walking toward her. She could tell I was watching the room numbers and asked in a Spanish accent, "What room Sir?" I answered, "8C", and she nodded toward the door just beyond her cart. Hotel Bargain Ch. 02 The door was not ajar like last time. I knocked quietly and thanked the woman who continued to look at me---suspiciously, it felt. No answer. I knocked a little louder, and the door bolt retracted and the knob turned, but the door pulled back only a small distance, barely cracking the door frame. I pushed the door open just wide enough to enter. I looked back at the woman one last time before closing the door and found her still staring at me as she continued her work. I closed the door and turned to find the man standing right in front of me, the brightness of the room making a hulking silhouette of him. "Hello cocksucker," he said. "Hello Sir." "Kneel down right there." I got down as ordered and he closed the little distance between us with only half a step. He raised his hand and pulled my head to his crotch. I had not been able to see, in the shadow of his form, that his zipper was down and his bulky cock was hanging out from his pants. He fed the cock into my mouth matter-of-factly. I sucked it in with a moan of relief---relief that I was finally here in the demanding man's room. I could hear the maid beyond the door still packing her cart. The man said flatly, "Fucking cocksucker. Just hold it there in your mouth bitch." I stopped my sucking and stayed still with the flesh in my mouth and heard my breathing through my nose. The cock grew in my mouth as I held my position. The stillness gave me a moment to reflect on my circumstance, to immerse myself in this debased moment. He grew harder and fuller, and I became less and less. He pinched my ears and pulled my face closer to him. I took more of the dick and he held me there, motionless, the rigid thing touching the back of my mouth. "Okay bitch, keep that cock in your mouth and follow me. Crawl. Come on." I answered with a slight nod of my head and "Mm, mm." The man started, in small steps, to backup into the room and I followed him on my knees taking care not to let the meat slip from my mouth. I sucked and clamped my lips tighter around it. "Come on, bitch. Don't let it out, fucker." I could hear a weak chuckle and I followed the dick into the light of his room. The cock lead me to the corner of the bed and he stopped. The man undid his belt and the clasp of his waist band; he pushed his pants down to his thighs. "Pull 'em down fucker." I tugged the belt and pants lower with the stiff meat secure in my mouth. I pushed them to his ankles. He did not remove the dark blue briefs in front of me. The back of his hands bumped my face as he pulled the fly farther apart---wide and long enough to pull his sack out of the opening---and then he sat down on the bed and I followed his cock and balls down to the corner of the mattress. "Lick the balls," he said, and I went after them like a whore trying to earn a vile of crack. I wanted so badly to prove my allegiance to the stranger's every whim. I licked and sucked the sack, moaning as I nibbled. I massaged the hairy sack with my entire face and he praised my eager sluttiness. "Holy fuck, bitch. Yeah---do it good. Get into it you cunt--- clean that sack." I cleaned him. As I licked the balls he continued, "You've been waiting for that, haven't you? You couldn't wait to get your face down on that cock. You fucking pervert cocksucker!" "Yes Sir," I answered desperately. "Yes." I continued my work on his sack and around the base of his cock. I so welcomed the opportunity to express my desire to serve the dick I kept answering in half-moaned phrases. "Yes Sir. I couldn't wait to suck your fat cock. It's all I've been thinking about for two weeks. I couldn't wait to get here between your legs." The man laughed out loud, enjoying my pitiful confession. "Man! You are one sick fucker." He lightly patted and rubbed the top of my head, a half sign of sympathy or affection, I thought. I sucked and kissed his sack, worshipping each of the balls inside. Then, without warning, he grabbed my hair in the hand that had just caressed me and jerked my head back so I had to look him in the eyes. "You only have to worry about one thing tonight---keeping this cock happy. Don't get me pissed off, 'cause you know I'll throw your ass out of here. I want to see you working full tilt on that dick bitch! Got it?" I didn't hesitate, "Yes Sir. That's what I'm here for---to keep your dick happy---that's all I'm good for, Sir." "That's right," he said. And with the fist of hair he pulled my head down and he held the dick so it slid into my mouth, and I started to suck the big thing with all the intensity I could display. I sucked and sucked, in pulls as deep and long as I could handle. As I sucked he pulled one foot out of his pants so he could spread his legs fully. I sucked the man as eagerly as I could. A few minutes passed and I heard the man start to moan and breathe heavier sighs. He draped the freed leg over my back and the weight of it surprised me, spurring me to suck even more intensely. His hands cupped my head and his pelvis rotated, pumping the meat in and out of me. I relished his apparent pleasure, but I didn't know how to read his arousal. I was just starting on him---I did not want this to be the end of my fantasy night. He growled and arched. His thighs clasped my head and he pumped. I took the cock deep, gagged, and took it again. His thighs relaxed. I felt the first warning streams in my throat. Then he stood with the cock still in my mouth, and hunched over me. He engulfed my head in both hands---one behind---one cradling and pinching my jaw. "Don't you stop, fucker!" he said between clenched teeth. "Don't you fuckin' stop." I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I knew where he was going and I wanted his fucking load. I let him commandeer my head. I sucked and he pumped the beautiful meat into my face---faster---now in spastic jerks. Pump...jerk...pump. Saliva and early cum leaked from my lips. Then he moaned one last warning, and the flood of cum burst into my throat. I let it come into me and felt the strings of heat slide into my throat. I wanted all of it. "Suck it bitch. Eat that shit motherfucker!" he demanded and held my head immobile as he let loose. I obeyed the man and swallowed and gasped---swallowed the stringy fluid. The pulses slowed, but did not stop, and when I thought I had finished the milking he pumped once more and I could feel the last of the semen leave the head of his cock. I sucked the man to completion and felt the grasp of his hands loosen. His legs straightened and quivered with fatigue. And, just as he had done in our last meeting, he did not pull the softening cock out from my lips. He stood over me and held the thing in my mouth. I looked up quickly and saw him staring down at me. "Don't you look at me bitch---just keep looking at that cock." He lingered over me. "Make sure it's good and clean. Get all of it." I let the dick out of my mouth, inspected it, and licked the slit and then the entire shaft for any last drops. There were none; but I repeated the procedure to demonstrate my submission, and to allow myself the pleasure of viewing his prize tool in full light. Its veiny shaft filled the wrap of my hand. The head was a dark purplish-red, still swollen and moist with my sucking. It seemed like its own organ. He fed the dick back into my mouth and sat back down on the corner of the bed, relaxed. He leaned back onto his elbows and I held his cock in my mouth and I sucked only mildly, trying not to disturb his post-ejaculation calm. He yawned loudly. He spoke after few moments, "Don't worry fucker---I'm not even close to being done with you. I know you don't want to stop yet. Do you?" "Mm, mm," I grunted, and shook my head "no" without looking up at him. He lifted his hand to look at his watch. "Man! It's not even 6:30 cocksucker. We got plenty of time to use your mouth. I just wanted to get that first one off---so I can really put you to work tonight." This announcement of his strategy sent me swooning. I could not have anticipated such a plan and I wanted to moan and cry with pleasure. I cautiously sucked the man's dick a few firmer pulls. "Thank you, thank you, thank you" I thought. "Okay cocksucker---I'm ready for a drink. Go down to the bar and wait for me." And with that he pushed my head away. "Actually, you can go to your room for a minute if you need to. But be in the bar in 15 minutes." I hated to be sent away for even a minute. I didn't want my high to subside. I went to my room and used the alone time to call home. I chatted nonchalantly---I think---with my wife: "long day...uh-uh...Mm...yes...okay...well...okay then...sleep tight... ...yes, probably about two, three o'clock... I'll call when I'm on the way...uh-uh...you too...bye Babe...night." I tucked in my shirt, straightened my hair and hurried down to the bar just off the hotel lobby. It was busy, but not loud. The room looked bigger in the dwindling daylight, but the light did not improve the ambience of the lounge. It looked disheveled and dated. I took a seat at a small table close to the window and waited for the man to join me. I surveyed the room and wondered if any other faces were concealing secrets like mine. The business man walked into the lounge. He had his suit coat on, but no tie. As he made his way toward me, he directed the waitress's attention to my table, and then he approached and sat down heavily. "Well, how'd that taste?" he asked looking at me, grinning. "Good" I said, nearly in a whisper. "Good? What was good?" With no one in earshot I answered a little louder, "Your cock tasted very good. I liked sucking you off. I hope you enjoyed it---Sir." "It was okay," he responded as he grabbed a menu from the next table. "Not great. I think you can do better though. Right?" "Yes---I'll do better next time." I was partly offended and partly thrilled by his unimpressed evaluation of my cock sucking. "I want to get it right for you." "You will," he said, not looking up from the menu. The waitress walked up and asked if we were going to eat or just order drinks. The man answered for me, "Well I know he's just eaten," and he laughed openly. The waitress smiled politely, not understanding. He continued, "I think we'll just have drinks." We ordered, and as the waitress walked away, the man continued his musings about his cock and my addiction, "You were afraid that I was just gonna have you blow and go. Weren't you?" I nodded yes, "I wasn't sure what to expect. I was hoping you weren't done with me, but I didn't know." "You swallowed that shit pretty good. I had a good load saved up for you. I'm a big finisher---even on my second shot." I had swallowed all of it---to my surprise. It felt like a porn-worthy cum shot, but in my heightened state, I had managed to receive and swallow it all. His talking about it made me aware of the sensation of stringiness still in my mouth and throat. My saliva was still thick with him. I was ready to for the drinks as our waitress returned. We drank for an hour---a little more. It was dark outside the window and the lounge took on a warmer atmosphere. I was near my limit, but feeling very good---high on alcohol and the demeaning conversation directed by the man whose cock would soon demand my attention. I could tell he was feeling his drinks, but he seemed nowhere near drunk. He is man of big appetites I thought. I was ready---eager to start my second act. But the man ordered one more drink and so did I. The man reached into the inner pocket of his suit coat and pulled out a folded sheet of paper and handed it to me. I unfolded what turned out to be two sheets as the waitress returned with our order. "Hey, young lady," he said to the not-so-young but attractive woman, "My friend here is quite a writer. Do you want to hear a little of his short story?" I looked down at the sheets in my hand and recognized them as a printed email. "Dear Sir" I saw at the heading and knew immediately what I held. "Go ahead. Read a little for her." The waitress did not answer his invitation. She could see he was acting a little high and paid him only passing attention. "Not right now, thanks," she said and walked away. He stared at her ass as she retreated. "Well," he said, turning his attention back to me, "I'd like to hear a little of your story--- one part in particular." He took the sheets from me and browsed over the text. He pulled a pen from his pocket and hash-marked a paragraph. "Read that part, there." and he handed the creased sheets back to me. I looked around the room. There were few people left in the lounge and no one sat near our table. The din of the television and the clatter from the kitchen gave me cover. He sipped his drink, enjoying my anxious caution. I started to read in a low but clear voice. "I hope you will understand how deep my desire is to be at the service of your cock and the mercy of your complete control. I keep replaying that night in my mind. And I fear that I am not capable of explaining my need to be used---without regard to my comfort or pleasure. I fantasize being bound, unable to do anything but offer my mouth for your fat cock and your cum. Your demanding words and domineering manner are impossible for me to resist. Sir, you were right. You do know me. I am an addicted cock pervert. Please use my sickness for your pleasure and..." The man interrupted me. "Okay, that's enough. You're making me sick." He grabbed the papers from me and browsed them again. He sipped his drink as he read, and shook his head, "Man. I really got my work cut out for me tonight. Don't I?" I hesitated for a moment, then answered, "I'm sorry Sir---for being so disgusting in my letter." "I don't care if you're sorry. Remember, I don't give a shit about you." He paused. "What do you think I care about, fuck head?" "About getting your cock sucked." "That's right." He paused. "Think you're ready bitch?" "Yes Sir. I'm ready." He laughed at my sincerity. "Yeah, I think you've been ready for two weeks. Jesus!" The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his room card. "Okay cocksucker. Take this and go to the room. I'll be up in a few minutes. I'm going to finish this drink and study your stupid letter one more time---to make sure I 'understand' you." He laughed. He was getting drunk now. "Oh. When you get up there, order up some porn on the cable. You know what I like." "Yes Sir," I answered, half out of my chair. "Anything else?" "I'll call if I think of anything," he said. I left the lounge on intoxicated legs. The buzz felt good and my instructions lit me with excitement and energy. I rode the elevator to the eighth floor and this time I knew exactly where to go. I inserted the card and heard to door unlock. I pushed into the stranger's room and went to the bathroom. I pulled out my stimulated dick and pissed. I looked at the man's open toiletries bag resting on the edge of the bath tub, and at the wet washcloth draped over the shower curtain rod. I could hear the low volume of the unwatched television. I zipped my pants and went back into his room to order a movie as directed. I scrolled the selections and highlighted something with "cock suckers" in the title. The movie appeared---a gaudy title screen appeared and raunchy guitar music sounded---and the action started immediately. A naked young woman with smaller breasts and a shaved pussy looked into the camera and proclaimed unabashedly that she was "there to suck some hot cock," A lean-bodied male appeared from the right and delivered his giant flaccid cock into her mouth. The phone rang and scared me. I knew it was him and I answered, "Yes Sir." "I meant to tell you to look in the dresser drawer," he said. "Upper left. I'll be up in a few minutes cock sucker." "Yes Sir," I said and the phone hung up. I put the phone in its cradle and went to the dresser, curious to see what he wanted me to find. I opened the drawer slowly, averting my head slightly as if something might jump out or explode. I pulled it open further to reveal a titillating collection of items and a few sentences scribbled on a sheet of the hotel note pad. The note said, "This is up to you. But, I think you'd enjoy them. Decide quickly cock sucker---I'm going to be there any minute." A dog collar, a pair of women's panties, and a pair of police style handcuffs lay neatly arranged in the bottom of the drawer. A small key was taped to the notepad. My cock grew in response to the sight---and my dilemma. I could picture him laughing as he hung up the phone. I undressed quickly nearly falling as I yanked my pants off. My cock was fully erect, and when I pulled the panties up the head of my dick stuck up over the waist band. I stood in the mirror. I looked so fucking stupid, but I did not stop. I tugged the band up and pushed my cock to the side. I looked again in the mirror as I wrapped the collar around my neck. I knew I was running out of time. I took the cuffs in my hand and felt their weight. My heart raced as I examined them. I held my hands behind me for a moment, imagining, in my drunkenness and in the pressure of the moment, the repercussions of accepting this offering from the stranger. "Hurry," I mumbled. I looked around the neat hotel room. On the TV the young woman was sucking full tilt now, her head trapped in the man's hands. The room looked warm and safe. The man's suitcase sat open on the hotel folding stand, a pair of well polished shoes underneath. I closed one cuff onto my right wrist and looked back at the pervert in the mirror, standing there in his panties and dog collar. I looked down at the small key on the note pad. "Fuck!" I put my hands behind me, fumbled the open cuff into position with my right hand and then brought the two cold arcs together around my left wrist. The tip of the toothed finger found the opening of the lock and I pushed the two pieces together. I could not keep my breathing steady. My knees quivered. I heard the cuff close in ratchet clicks and then a card being inserted into the door. The door opened and the large man pushed noisily into the short hallway of the room. He had an open beer in one hand and a capped bottle in the other. He pushed the door closed with his foot and turned into the room. "Holy fuck!" he shouted, and he broke into loud laughter---cruel, intoxicated laughter. He set the bottles down and slid drunkenly onto the bed, laughing and rolling across the mattress, and then laughing into a pillow. I stood there, humiliated and stupid, watching the large man muffle his uncontrollable laughter in the pillow he crunched around his face. His head shook "no" as he laughed and he slapped the mattress several times in hysterical disbelief. I stood there. My dick was stiff no longer and it shrunk into the front of my panties. His laughter slowed and then halted. The man lifted his head out of the pillow and rolled himself up to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He looked at me, his face still red from his laughing, and he shook his head in disgusted disbelief. "You fucking retard. I thought you might do it---but I didn't really know." He reached for the open beer and took a swig. "Do you realize what you're doing? You're really perverted, man. Look at yourself." I stood there with my head down. The man stood up and came toward me. "I said look at yourself bitch," he voice was hard now---no laughter. "Look in the fucking mirror," he barked and slapped the back of my head. I turned around and looked at the pervert standing there in the mirror. I saw the business man, still in his suit coat, behind me .He took another swig and came up beside me. Again, he slapped the back of my head. "Pervert! Cocksucker!" He held the beer to my mouth and said, "Drink up bitch!" He tilted the half full bottle up and I tipped my head back but couldn't keep up with the beer. The cold liquid poured down my chin and onto my chest. The man chuckled. "Look at yourself." I did as he told me. He tugged the front of my panties down to reveal my shrinking cock in the mirror. It looked pitiful. He looked at me in the mirror and shook his head. "Man, no wonder you're so sick. Look at that shit. How do you fuck with that?" He let the waist band of the panties snap back. The man stood beside me and unbuckled his pants so I could watch in the mirror. He unzipped and the flaps of his pants fell open. He hiked his shirt up and pulled down the waist band of his white briefs. The large cock fell forward over the band. I looked at the bull meat and felt that rush once more. It was a beautiful cock. I stared at it. Hotel Bargain Ch. 02 "What do you think about that?" he asked, confident of my answer. "I like it Sir," I whispered. The man slapped the back of my head again. "You like it?" I knew what he wanted, "I love it Sir. Your cock is beautiful. I need it and I have to serve it." He wrapped his right arm around my neck and held me under his arm in a firm choke hold. I could still see myself in the mirror, half bent over in his lock, my cuffed hands sticking out behind me. "Say it again, bitch." He was fondling his tool, bouncing its heft in his cupped hand and then stroking the stiffening flesh. "I love your beautiful cock. I have to suck it --- I have to," I responded with climbing enthusiasm. My dick was being resuscitated by the man's harsher control and the sight of his penis. It is a beautiful cock I thought privately. I stared at its expanding girth and the swelling head, and it seemed perfectly logical that I should be here, at his mercy, as if it was an undeniable truth---that I was a lesser being, made more full by serving the penis and its owner. The superior man released my head from his underarm and pushed me to my knees and fed the bull dick into my face. He grabbed my head and started to fuck my face. His cock stiffened readily. He pumped my face angrily now and I could do little to resist. The pounding cock reached my throat and I gagged, but it only made him rougher. I slobbered all over the hard meat and the saliva streamed onto my chest as I tried desperately to handle the cock. He held my head in both hands and stirred me toward the plane of the mirror above the dresser. I watched the cock slide in and out of the pervert's mouth. The sight reminded me of just how helpless I was without my hands to temper the thrust of his cock. I couldn't stop watching the demeaning reflection. And he knew it. "You like seeing that, don't you? You like to see that meat in your mouth bitch?" the man questioned me knowing full well I was in ecstasy at the end of his powerful dick and firm hands. I shook my head "yes" and he pulled out of my mouth long enough to let me answer him, "Yes Sir, I love it, Sir. I'm your cocksucker." The man grabbed his cock at the base and smacked my face with the wet club---thwack---thwack---the firmness hurt when it struck my nose straight on. He laughed when he realized that he had inflicted the blow. The man went into the bathroom and took a piss that he must have held since we were in the bar. I waited on my knees next to the bed and heard the man's piss coming to an end in forced squirts, and then the flush of the toilet. He washed his hands and then bent over to cup water onto his face---freshening himself for the next round. He came out of the bathroom with his pants re-buttoned and zipped, the belt dangling to each side. He held a hand towel in one hand and a wash cloth in the other. He stepped close to me. "Open up" he ordered. I opened my mouth and he jammed the wash cloth quickly and firmly into my mouth. His action surprised me and when I realized I could not expel the dry cloth it scared me and I breathed rapidly through my nose. It took a moment to calm myself. The man pushed me back against the bed and then trapped my head down firmly against the mattress under his large left hand. My legs folded under me, my feet trapped partially under the edge of the bed frame, my dick sticking out from behind the panties. He tugged then down harshly to the middle of my thighs. I felt his right hand wrap my dick and he jerked it quickly. I was instantly hard and I knew I wouldn't last long. I tried to protest, moaning through the wash cloth. He pushed my head down harder and continued to pump my inferior dick. I felt the approaching climax. I gave in to the inevitable and shuddered in the ecstasy. He pumped. I came. I came with an intensity that I had forgotten over many years. For an instant I was drunk with pleasure; and in the next instant, reality rolled over me and deflated my spent cock. The man released my head. My joints ached as I righted myself to a half-kneeling, half-seated position. He went to the sink and washed his hands, inspecting them for any sign of my semen. When he was satisfied, he came back into the room. He undressed casually, hanging his shirt in the closet and laying his pants neatly over the back of the desk chair. His large penis jiggled and swung as he moved about. But now the man and his cock looked foreign and unappealing. The room felt as strange and unwelcoming as the barrel-chested figure coming toward me. The man pulled the cloth out of my mouth and I welcomed the first full breath in several minutes. He pushed his dick into my mouth and I sucked half-heartedly. I smelled his musk for the first time, and his cock tasted metallic and unpleasant. I let his dick out of his mouth. "I think I'm through for tonight," I said. "I'm not too good after I cum. Even with my wife--- it's typically one shot--- and then I'm just kind of over it." "Well, I don't see your wife here," the man said with feigned concern. "Do you want to give her a call and ask her for advice?" The man went to where my pants lay on the floor next to the dresser and fumbled in my pocket for my cell phone. He pulled it out and flipped it open, his face lit by the screen. He scrolled. "Here we go." He walked to me and showed me the highlighted "Home" on the screen and he place his thumb on the call button. "Okay, okay!. Don't do that," I pleaded. He clamped the phone shut and took a seat in the easy chair opposite the porn filled TV screen. He opened the other beer and took a long drink, letting out a deep sigh as he put the beer down. "Here's what's going to happen," he started matter-of-factly. "It's pretty simple fucker. You can either give me what you promised in this perverted fucking email"---he waived the folded and refolded paper in the air---"or you can leave the room right now and go back to your room, handcuffs and all. I'll put your key card in your hand and shove your clothes in a laundry bag and you can make your way back to you room. It's up to you." "But Sir..." I wanted to reason with him. "Shut-the-fuck-up!" His face reddened now. "Listen bitch. You have exactly one minute ---one minute---and you better have this cock in your mouth, or I'm pushing you out the door with your stuff." I did not risk another plea for latitude in our agreement. On my knees I made my way toward the large seated man. He grinned as I crawled, pleased at my resignation. He spread his legs wider to accommodate my approach, and I lowered my head into the shadow of his thighs and found the fat thing with my mouth and started to suck. "That a boy," I heard him say, and I felt his hand rest on the back of my head as the meat began to swell and stiffen. My desire for his cock was gone, but I worked it in and out of my mouth methodically. I could not open my eyes. I didn't want to see the white flesh of his thighs or the trail of course hair that ran to his navel. I tried to breathe in short puffs from the corners of my mouth---I was no longer intoxicated by the smell of his musk, the heat of his sack. The man's hand clenched my hair and lifted my face off of his dick and into the cooler air of the room. Again, he began blandly, "That is some pretty uninspired cock sucking. You're really not into this anymore, are you?" I shook my head "no", not saying anything. I was relieved at his sympathetic tone. The man leaned back in the chair, his erection pointing up over his abdomen. He took the sheets of paper---my email---from the table beside him and tipped then toward the lamp. "Let's see..." he skimmed the pages. "Okay. Here it is again. Listening?" he asked without looking at me. "Yes Sir." He read aloud the same words that he had made me read in the lounge. "'...how deep my desire is to be at the service of your cock and the mercy of your complete control... my need to be used without regard to my comfort or pleasure...unable to do anything but offer my mouth for your fat cock and your cum...please use my sickness for your pleasure." He was quiet for a moment, sipped the beer bottle again and then he got up quickly from his chair. He went to the hallway closet and returned with a white plastic bag used for hotel laundry service. He stuffed my shoes, socks, and shirt into the bag, and before jamming my pants into the now bulging bag, pulled my card key from one of the pockets. He pulled his pants on quickly and zipped them. He grabbed the stuffed white bag and went to the door and opened it. "Let's go! Get out of here." He stood there with the door half opened. The blue light of hallway cut past the door in a shaft that fell just short of where I still kneeled naked and handcuffed at the foot of the chair. I was paralyzed and speechless. "You better get out of here fucker or I'm going to drag your ass out." A silent moment passed. The man let the door go and he rushed over to me. He smacked the back of my head, and grabbed the crook of my right arm trying to hoist me to standing position. "Get out of here!" he said between clenched teeth and I toppled over hard onto the floor. "Please Sir," my first panicked words finally escaped. "Don't make me go. I'm ready now. I need your cock. I'm ready to go to work on your cock." I rolled over and struggled to raise myself back to kneeling position facing the man and I buried my nose into the crotch of his pants and moaned. I begged him to undo his pants, "Please Sir. Please. Give me one more chance. I'll suck you good!" I kissed and nuzzled the bulge of his dick through his pants. He unzipped and pulled his trousers open and I greeted this reprieve with desperate sucking of his bull cock. I kissed and licked his sack. I worked like a desperate whore for the next few minutes, finally winning his approval. The man pulled off his pants and returned to his seat, his throne. He settled in, comfortable again. He sipped his drink and turned his attention to the young women devouring the large dicks on the television. I settled in also, my mouth and my full effort focused on the man's cock. I sucked and sucked, not allowing a lack of intensity to divert the man's attention from the screen. I resigned myself to the fact that the man sitting over me intended to claim ever bit of my promised submission. Later, reflecting on this long night, I realized that he had jacked me off specifically with the intent of undermining my pleasure, my enthusiasm for "the game". He did not want to share. He wanted his dick sucked without the awareness---the intrusion---of mutual satisfaction. I worked on his dick feverishly; and the man whose cock filled my mouth thought no more about me than the woman who would clean his room in the morning. I sucked the man's hard, selfish cock. The man had long ago finished his last beer when he turned off the television. I felt his attention turn to me, the dick sucker between his legs. One of his hands cupped the back of my head and prodded me to take more of the cock into my mouth---more cock, in faster glides of my mouth. I knew I was nearing the end of my service and I accommodated his direction. In the quiet of the room I could hear his breaths and half-moans. His hips moved in slow rotations and periodic upward thrusts of his pelvis. I had gotten from the man precisely what I had claimed to want, and he was now in intense pursuit of what I promised him. In the final moments of this long night, my dark desires were reclaiming me and I began to lament that he would soon send me back to my room with only the smell of his crotch on my face and his expelled cum in my stomach. I sucked the hulking stranger willingly, eagerly. He stretched his legs fully and his thighs twitched in spasms. He laid his head back on the cushion of the chair, arched his back, and groaned. He was done. He was done with me and we did not talk as I dressed. The red glow of the clock radio said 1:15 and I found the realization of the hours that had passed disorienting. I tied my shoes and stood, getting my legs back. I headed for the door, but the still naked man did not look up from where he sat. "Sir," I ventured. "Will I hear from you?" The man still did not look over at me and he scratched his stomach and then his sack. "I don't know. Maybe," he said, and yawned with a large gulp of air. I returned to my room and jacked off before climbing into bed. I slept deeply.