THE BELLBOY SPUNKS HIS BRIEFS
A new story by JUSTIN SHORTS: scott_justin51@hotmail.com
I want to thank all those people kind enough to have emailed me with comments about my work. It seems there are a few of you out there who enjoy it, and share my interests. I have been urged by several of you to write something new, so if you are one of those, this is especially for you!
If you've read some of my other stuff, you may already have picked up the fact that I look out for the chance encounters that seem to come my way in hotels. My work takes me all over the place, attending and sometimes organising short conferences at various hotel locations. There's something about the anonymity of these places, the often unexpected luxury of the unknown bedrooms, the often young staff (waiters, bellboys, porters), the in-room entertainment (x-rated channels piped in) - all of that makes each hotel visit to me a bit of an adventure. Most of the time, of course, nothing untoward happens at all. But then, now and again, I strike lucky.
I know that some people complain about those large hotel chains, which all look the same on the inside. But I choose them whenever I can. I welcome the fact that there are certain constants. There's one chain that my company tends to use most of the time, I'm pleased to say, where I have always been comfortable. And I particularly like them for the dress code that they impose universally on their staff. For example, the waiters (rarely aged over 25) wear a pair of standard black trousers with maroon piping, white shirt, with a black and maroon short waistcoat and black bowtie. Most of the boys they use look so fucking cute, especially as the majority are teenagers! Some look as young as 16, but I'm not sure that they are. At weekends they bring in extras, college boys and the occasional schoolboy.
My most recent trip has to be one of the best to date. It was one of the conferences that I was partly responsible for organising. This meant that I was under a lot of pressure, but one of the perks was that the hotel had allocated me a really good room, with lots of extras. One of the best features was that there was a video player as well as the piped TV channels, so when I eventually got back into my room after a day's work I could relax with a bit of favourite porn (one of the Man's Best videos usually) and have a nice luxurious wank.
It hadn't taken me long to notice the cute young bellboy who was always hanging around reception. His name was Ian, and I guess he was 18 or 19. He had short dark hair, and wonderfully smooth, pale skin. His uniform was not unlike that worn by the waiters - black polyester trousers (they always reminded me of school trousers), white shirt with a company tie, and a kind of tight-fitting half-jacket. He managed to mix politeness with friendliness and had genuine natural charm, not something that can be taught. And, of course, he was a stunner, a really beautiful kid. I could not keep my eyes off him whenever I went through the reception area, and I guess it was not long before he noticed that I always seemed to be looking in his direction. I was delighted to see that after the first few times he began to blush and even look flustered when I appeared., and I knew that HE knew what I was interested in.
As I was staying in the hotel for about a week, I didn't need to rush things and get it wrong. I've just re-read that last sentence, and I realise that it sounds incredibly arrogant, as if I knew in advance that I was going to end up getting this boy, but that's not true. It's just that I knew he could be easily frightened off, and that I could ruin things all too easily. He needed to be wooed. A bit of gentle flirting and flattery might do the trick - I certainly hoped so.
My chance came on the third day. I was responsible for setting-up for one of the seminar presentations for the afternoon session, and I was just doing some last-minute checks in the conference room. I always make a point of trying out any special equipment - overhead projectors, PowerPoint facility and so on - and I was angry to find that two of the overhead light bulbs in the room had failed. Not a big problem, sure, but unnecessary. It shouldn't happen. The hotel should have checked details like that, and got them right. We were paying them enough for these seminar rooms, after all. I immediately headed for Reception to bite someone's head off. There was no duty manager around at that moment, but Ian seemed to have been left in charge. I immediately tempered what I was going to say, but nevertheless I made clear that I was not happy and that I wanted the bulbs replacing immediately (there was only about 10 minutes before the seminar was due to start).
Ian was a star! He took control of the situation at once, apologised profusely, and undertook to get the bulbs himself from the store and make the change. And just before he went off to find them he looked hard at me and smiled and said: `I want to make your stay as comfortable as possible'. I headed back to the seminar room and waited for him. He wasn't long, and brought with him a short stepladder. It didn't take him a moment to make the changes, but it was long enough for me to enjoy the sight of him reaching above his head to remove and replace the spent bulb: as he did so, the white shirt pulled away slightly from the waistband of his black trousers, showing an inch or two of bare flesh. My cock stirred even at that. And as he reached upwards to push the new bulb in place my eyes fixed on the front of his trousers, where the material stretched temptingly across his teenage mound. Ah, if only...
There was no time for anything more. I could hear conference delegates approaching down the corridor, so I thanked Ian profusely. Not at all, sir. If there's anything you need at all later on, do contact me. I'm on night duty today, so if there's anything at all, call me.' He turned to go, but then said, over his shoulder. I really mean it - anything. If anything needs attention in your room, perhaps - however late.' Then he was gone.
Was there any doubt about what that was all about? Surely not. At least, that was what I had convinced myself. All through the afternoon session I couldn't stop thinking about what he had said, and how he had said it. Perhaps it was entirely innocent. Perhaps I was jumping to the wrong conclusions. But how could I be? I found it impossible to concentrate on the seminar presentation, and began to fantasise about what might happen that evening in my room. My cock began to stiffen and I discreetly had to adjust myself to let it rise within my black boxers. God, I needed that kid badly, that much I knew. All afternoon I sat through the interminable presentation, allowing my imagination to create all kinds of fantastic scenarios for the night ahead. By the end of the seminar my silk Debenhams boxers were quite damp, but I knew that I had plenty of precum in reserve for later! As soon as I could, I cleared up after the afternoon's session and made my way back to my room to unwind.
After a shower, I lay on my bed to relax and think yet again about the exchange with Ian. I had changed out of my boxers, and lay back on the soft double bed wearing just a pair of white cotton CK briefs. They felt good, and although I had half a mind to get a good wank in before the evening's encounter with young Ian, it was good just to feel my cock resting comfortably in the soft cotton pouch. I rather wanted to hold on to what was already quite a generous reservoir of spunk until later - unusually, I had not masturbated for two days - because if things went as I was hoping I wanted to be able to match what I imagined the bellboy would be able to deliver.
I must have dozed off, because a noise down the corridor brought me to with a start. I glanced at my watch. Time to change and prepare for the evening. I went over to my sports bag (without which I travel nowhere!) and made my choice. You'll find out what later! Enough for now to say that I decided to wear an open-necked white cotton shirt and pale blue jeans, a pair of white sports socks and lightweight trainers. Studied casual was what I was aiming for.
Time to eat. I headed down to the hotel restaurant and had something quick. There was no sign of Ian, and I began to get anxious. Maybe he wasn't on duty after all. But why would he lead me to think he was? As I left the restaurant, I was relieved to see him at the reception desk. He smiled broadly, and, yes, there was the regulation blush. I leant across the desk and said quietly - `is that promise of room service still on offer? Because I badly need to see you in my room in ten minutes time.'
`Oh, I'm about to come off duty, sir.'
`But you said...'
`...and so my time's my own. I'll be along in ten minutes. Was just wondering what to wear...'
Well, you look fucking cute in your uniform, I have to say' (more blushing), but if you're asking me to make a suggestion, then why not relax and get into something a bit sporty? That is, if you have anything like that here.'
`Oh, I think I have just the thing. Are you a soccer fan?'
`Fuck, yes. Wouldn't dream of going to game, of course, but can wank myself silly over a shiny strip!'
`Mmm. Leave it me. See you soon!'
This was getting better and better. I was really quite excited now and loved the thought of the role play that both of us seemed to be willingly entering into.
I hurried back to my room and got things ready. I slid a video into the machine and started it off, just so there'd be something to distract us if we needed it. I had chosen at random, but I was pleased with what I'd selected - one of the Man's Best series with young guys in a club, mostly in shorts and teeshirts (at least, that's how it starts off). I turned the sound down low.
I hardly had time to do this before there was the lightest of knocks on the door, and then the handle turned and Ian walked in and shut the door behind him, turning the lock as he did so. I caught my breath. He had slipped into a shiny white soccer shirt (I think it was the Leeds home strip for you aficionados) and was wearing dark blue tracksuit bottoms. God, he was a dream. He smiled and walked towards me, and I went to meet him. In the middle of the room we closed together, and I rested my hands lightly on the soft satiny shirt. His hard young body was firm beneath the glistening shirt. And then he moved right into me, and we kissed. He initiated it. Long, and tenderly, and with real pleasure we kissed. His head fell back, and I kissed his soft throat, smooth and fresh. The gentlest murmuring started up in his throat, and I was excited at his vulnerability. He seemed to be giving himself so willingly, and wanted to enter fully into the fantasy situation that we were spinning for ourselves.
I slipped my left hand down to his waist, and lightly under the front of the white soccer shirt. I slid upwards, and reached his soft, warm belly, and lightly caressed him there, loving the warmth and the smoothness of him, the shiny fabric of his shirt skimming the back of my knuckles. Then I travelled on upwards, and my fingers met a gold chain hanging round his neck and dangling between his nipples. He felt so good. Firm, not muscular but hard and tough. And there was not a hair on him - he was so smooth and silky.
I glanced downwards, and there seemed to be a tell-tale fullness in his blue Adidas tracksuit. I needed so badly to feel him up, yet somehow wanted to hold back in order to enjoy it the more when I eventually reached the teenager's hard centre. I turned him ever so gently to give him a better view of the video screen, where by now two boys were sitting side by side on a couch and slowly feeling themselves up through the outside of white shorts - soccer shorts I think, a nice coincidence.
My left hand came back downwards from his chest, down to the waistband of the tracksuit, and very lightly I tugged at the front to give myself ease of access. I slipped my hand downwards, inside, not far at all, and immediately made contact with shiny material - shorts, nylon or satin, and I could see the top of the waist band peeking out - white, and so very tempting. Oh God, Ian' I murmured. That's so sexy, you horny kid. A teenage footballer waiting to be wanked off in his kit. Oh fuck, this is going to be so hot. I want you to enjoy every minute of this, kid. I want you to be begging for me to make you cum so that you can shoot your hot creamy teenspunk in your kit.'
`Mmm, oh yes sir, yes, I want you do me in my soccer kit. Pull my trackies down, now. Please. Get working on my shorts.'
I didn't need a second invitation. I tugged hard at his blue tracksuit, and it came down his legs, exposing the brilliant white of his shiny nylon shorts. And yes, they were definitely nylon, slippery and sexy and hugging his crutch temptingly. I touched them at the front, and met the resistance of his burgeoning young cockmeat pressing through, and I started to push and rub him there, delighted by the size and hardness of the young man. The boy's cock pressed into my hand, sheathed in the warm slippery nylon, and I gripped him gently through the cloth. His length filled my hand, and I gave a few preparatory wanking strokes, and he moaned in his throat. The cock felt so good, hot and hard and loose in his shorts. And remember, he was still in his white shiny soccer shirt. Wanking off an 18-year-old in his kit - do you know of anything better? Well, do you? I certainly don't.
As I gripped the boy's cock through the shorts, he instinctively moved with me, thrusting in and out to work up a friction so that his hard meat tingled as the white nylon moved over the stretched skin. He seemed used to this, which fascinated me. I hoped he was practised in holding back, as I didn't want him to cum for a while longer. I wanted to give the kid as much pleasure as I could before the spunk explosion that I was sure would be quite something.
My own erection needed some attention soon, but I wasn't at all certain whether I would be able to rely on Ian to help me out. When eager boys like him are lost in their own pleasure, it is unusual for them to take an active interest in what you've got to offer. Usually they need to cum off first, but then I find they will usually be only to pleased to wank me or watch as I stroke myself in front of them. If they're straight they tend to be more prepared to be experimental, curiously enough, though occasionally I have been lucky enough to find a gay teen who likes to try new things out with someone a bit older. It was too early to know what category Ian fell into.
The boy's moaning began to fill the room, and mingled with the murmuring pleasures from the video. I could see that Ian was looking over my shoulder at the screen, which was what I wanted. He was happy to let me do whatever I wanted. More firmly now, I stroked the teenager's hot throbbing cockmeat under the stunning white nylon shorts, long strokes making out the hard shape of the youngster, quivering and eager. I pressed him into me then, pushing the well-packed soccer shorts against by straining blue jeans, allowing my own hardness to push through the blue cotton into the soft nylon. My cock felt the resistance of the lad's boycock, and I nearly fainted with the pleasure of it.
I brought my hand between us, and now rubbed him again through the tight-stretched white nylon. And for the first time I realised that something was restraining the boystud's prick beneath the soft material - I had mistakenly assumed that he was naked under the shorts. I dropped to my knees in front of him, and the delicate aroma of the hot young teen met my nostrils, sweetly musky and tangy with precum. The warm nylon was against my nose and mouth, and the tip of my tongue flickered like a snake and made contact with the sexy whiteness. Then I pressed closed, and pushed my face against the soft warm whiteness, and nuzzled the brilliant shiny shorts. His legs parted wide, and I took the opportunity to slide my left hand up the leg of the shorts and under. Up I went, towards the teenager's throbbing cockmeat, and my fingers met the resistance of, of what...? Lace? Satin? Something incredibly sexy and soft, that much was certain. The tiniest posing brief, in a sheer material that made my hand shake. God, I had to see him close-up. I needed his shorts down by his ankles. With both hands I began to tug gently, and they began to give and slide down. And there, before my eyes, I was presented with the most stunning sight, of a healthy young teenboy dressed only in a shiny satin seethrough brief and soccer shirt, and 6 inches of hard hot young cock straining for my further attention.
I was only too happy to worship at the shrine. My right hand now took over the wanking responsibility, and I gripped his juicy tool through the creamy satin. It felt incredible, the combination of hard cockmeat and thin white satin. And the brief was very damp from his flowing precum. His foreskin was pulling back, exposing the fleshy mushroom head of his cock, and drips of precum continued to wetten the brief.
As he continued to watch the onscreen video, which was hotting up now as the two youngsters had removed their shorts and were now getting down to the serious business of some noisy 69 action, I closed my mouth over the tip of the beautiful cock filling the white seethrough briefs. The cockhead slid into my mouth, and I started to headbob him, and he bucked and gently thrust. Then the sweet kid slipped his hand down and released his cock from his briefs, and I clamped my mouth back over the naked hot boymeat. I drank his nectar hungrily, the delicate silky precum tasting fresh and tangy, like the most expensive liqueur. I sucked Ian's hot teencock insistently now, moving my mouth up and down the shaft, enjoying the incredible sensation of the stretched skin over the hot hardness. I found that my right hand was resting on his discarded nylon shorts and a thought involuntarily entered my head. Without for a moment stopping my tasty treat, I managed to unzip my jeans, part them, and slip my left hand inside the gaping fly. I had decided to wear a pair of powder blue nylon briefs (regular readers will know my penchant for these) through which my bursting cock was weeping copious amounts of precum. In fact, by now they were sodden with my excitement. I reached again for his shorts, and lifted them up, and began to rub them (still warm from his young body) over the front of my damp nylon briefs. It felt fucking marvellous.
Ian's young cock was deep in my mouth, and the lad's bucking motions indicated clearly to me that he was getting near. I so much wanted to see the boy's cum explosion close up, and was prepared to give up the pleasure of having him pump his hot boycum down my hungry throat in favour of witnessing the pearls of creamy joy as they burst from the bulging head. Kneeling carefully in front of him, I let him pull his thrusting cock gently from my mouth, and as he did so I reached down and pulled his satin seethrough brief back up his thighs towards his engorged cock and tight firm balls.
Slip them back on' I whispered, and he let me pull them gently over the hot hard boymeat. I'm going to make you fill your briefs with your spunk.' The sight of that beautiful wet tip, now delicately sheathed again by the satin, showing through the thin transparent material, made me breath heavily with excitement, for the foreskin moved loosely over the silky head. Ian was so close now, and I wanted it to be so good for him. I knew that the feel of his sensitive young shaft against the silky satin would be incredibly exciting for him, and enough to make him want to shoot. I reached upwards and touched the teenager's cock through the briefs, but at once he said quickly `No, no let me, let me do it. Watch me do it. Let me, please.' And I took my hand away and he reached for himself and very lightly, so very delicately, feathered his quivering hardness through the shiny fabric. Just a few strokes did it, and he bent his back, forming a tense arch in the middle of the room before me, and with a deep groan he let his cum go into the satin briefs. I sighed with joy as I gazed on pulse after pulse of smooth teencum exploded into the hugging briefs. They began to sag with the weight of the smooth teenspunk, but still he pumped his cum into the shining satin. I rubbed my own blue nylon pouch against his soccer shorts, and then quickly I slipped my cockhead free from the front of the nylon and pressed my hardness against his cum-filled packet. He smiled at me cheekily now, as I lost myself and passed that point of no return. The feel of the cum-wet satin tingling against my boiling cock was incredible, and I did not need to wank myself as the touch of the boy's briefs brought me over the edge.
Oh God, I'm going to cum, I'm going to shoot my spunk over your briefs' I muttered, and with that I shuddered as my orgasm took control. The intensity of the pleasure was overpowering, and the sensation of the creamy spunk forcing its way up my shaft and spewing over his white satin made me gasp. I called out: Ohh, fuck, Ian, fuck, you hot stud, making me shoot my cum over your tight white briefs' - or something like that! It was so incredibly hot, having a soccer boystud in cum-soaked briefs on the floor with me, watching me as I delivered my charge of thick white spunk over his engorged cock package.
After we had both subsided, we stayed for a few minutes like this, pressed together. The heady aroma of our spent cum, my spunk mingling with his boycum and the smell of saturated satin, was sensational. After a while we moved, and I got Ian to strip off the cum-soaked briefs. Much later we headed off to the large doublebed. I had put on a pair of white silk boxers, and Ian wore just his soccer shirt. And that's how we slept, the boy turned into me. In the early hours of the morning I woke and moved close into the naked buttocks of the sleeping youth, my boxers pressing lightly into his firm smooth bum. I slid my hand round the front of him and pressed him to me, clutching his silky soccer shirt closely. Later still, I was aware of him slipping out of bed, and swiftly dressing. `Got to get back to my room - I'm on early morning shift' he whispered. And with that we was off, leaving just a warm impression and the sweet scent of him in the bed, and a pair of well-spunked satin briefs for my collection of trophies.
Now if you wanted I could tell you about what happened the next day, when I seduced the cutest waiter (he was called Adrian and was doing his school holiday job), after which Ian then joined us. Some really delicious slow strip-down scenes. Let me know if you're interested...
Fans of shorts and briefs, and the lads who wear them, are invited to send me something hot at scott_justin51@hotmail.com Lovers of nylon, silk and satin especially welcomed!!