A new year, and I am back in University Town. It’s the first real working day after the holidays. I get a message on my phone.
“I’m at the Wallace”. The Wallace is an elegant downtown hotel. I’ve never seen its rooms, but I imagine they will be elegant, as the price is over $350/night. He says he can’t send a picture but points me to his instagram. Unfortunately, its locked to followers and I can only see a tiny picture of him. It could be Donald trump for all I know. Do I really want to meet up with someone I’ve never seen?
“I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” I tell him.
When I walk in the lobby I see only staff. One of them, a well dressed man in a stiff starched white shirt, and fashionably tight dress pants, nods to me. “This way, sir,” he says. I follow him up the marble winding staircase to the second floor. We fly past the reception desk and into a hallway. Briefly I see into the reception hall, place settings already prepared for a beautiful wedding, and it brings back memories from the weddings of school friends, two of which have been in this very room.
I don’t have time to reminisce. He heads to the end of the hall into the Men’s room, looking back at me briefly. At this point, I’m not sure what’s happening. Did I misinterpret him wanting me to follow him? Where is the room he’s supposed to have? He is washing his hands, so I go to the elegant oak door of the first stall, and close the door behind me, not locking it.
My heart is racing. This is not at all what I expected. I stare at the silver plated doorknob and listen. It clicks and he peeks inside.
“Wait here. I will come.”
I nod and take off my coat, as quietly as I can and set it on the hook. At least I know he’s the guy.
After a moment he comes back and steps inside the stall, furtively locking the door behind him. “Sit,” he whispers. I sit down on the open toilet seat, pants inches from the water, and watch has he undoes his belt and unzips his tight dress pants. He wastes no time, and in a moment I’m staring at his rock hard dick. It is about six inches long, thick and veiny, and it has a bulbous head. I tilt my head down, and gently grab its bottom between my lips, and then look up at him. It hurts my eyes to see him, as he is standing directly under the stall’s bright chandelier. He stares down at me and whispers, “Good, yeah, good.”
The toilet is really too high for this, and I wish I were on my knees, but I’m also aware that the door does not go all the way to the floor, so I just it best to stay on the toilet where I can lift up my legs if anyone comes in. Instead I lean into it, and I feel his hand reach down my pants into my exposed butt crack.
“I want to see your cock,” he quietly says to me, so I sit up, unzip my jeans and pull it out for him. I’ve been sucking, so it is hard and as I pull back the foreskin the precum on it glistens in the light.
I get back to work and he grabs the back of my head and presses forward, stabbing his dick into my mouth. As my head is sideways from the angle, it does not have far to go. His huge bulbous head slams into the roof of my mouth and he gasps, holding me there. When he finally lets go I bob up and down on his dick, sucking and he sucks in a breath.
“I don’t want to cum yet,” he tells me. “Slowly.”
That’s what I like to hear. I’m in control now, and I let his dick plop out of my mouth, and rotate my body so I’m again twisted sideways, looking up into his eyes, his dick resting on my nose. I lick its underside, and slowly let it fall back between my waiting lips.
“Will you eat my load?” he says. I nod enthusiastically.
He grabs my head again, and starts to fuck it. “Yes, yes,” he says, as I start to suck him harder. “Whoah I’m gonna cum,” he warns, but now he’s unstoppable. My head is firmly gripped in his hands, and I have to grab his ass for balance as he facefucks my sideways turned head.
“I’m cumming now,” he whispers and suddenly stops. I feel him shooting, filling the back of my mouth with his load, and it is stopped from going anywhere by the size of his giant cock head, like a huge stopper.
He stands there, cock dripping into my mouth panting. Then, he grabs some toilet paper and wipes off the tip. Without word, he pulls up his pants, steps out and into the next stall. I hear the toilet flush, and his footsteps as he leaves.
I wash my hands, tasting his thick cum still in my mouth and walk out, past the reception hall into the lobby. If anyone asks I’m in room 307, I decide. But what if there is no room 307? Damn. I look around, not remembering which staircase it was, but still trying to look like a guest.
“It’s this way sir,” I turn and see my host, the bellman, directing me down.
“Thanks,” I walk down the marble staircase and he follows me closely to the main floor. The other staff at the reception turn both stand up straighter and turn to watch us.
“And thank-you, sir.” he says, with a huge smile, as if I’d just given him the biggest tip of the day.