Ed Chapter 7 by Jacob442011@gmail.com Jacob442011@yahoo.com (feedback welcome) Dedicated to Mike, my inspiration. [and Mike - please email, would love to hear from you]
I glanced quickly down the long, dimly lit hotel hallway. Voices echoed faintly, then silence. I paused, waiting, listening, but did not see anyone.
Okay, I told myself, we're doing this. Taking a deep breath, I began to remove my clothes. Naked but for my socks, I removed them and shoved them in the duffel along with the rest of my belongings.
Now completely naked, I knocked on the door.
No answer.
I waited, looking.
Nervous butterflies stirred in my bare belly.
Do hotels have cameras? Does this one?
I shifted the bag to my other hand and knocked again.
Still no answer.
Jesus. I wondered how quickly I could get dressed if someone was coming. Probably not quickly enough. Or, maybe I could duck around the corner by the ice machine? There was a couple of chairs and a mirror just past it, then a little farther, elevators. But, nowhere to really hide.
I swallowed and knocked again, standing close to the door, hoping my cock and balls would be less visible to any hotel patrons who happened along at this late hour.
Silence.
I glanced left, then right, anxiously, then peered down the hall.
Click.
The door opened a crack, deadbolt in place. Room dark, a voice from within whispered, your bag. I scrunched up as close to the door as I could, shoving my duffel through the opening, expecting the deadbolt to be released and ready to slip in myself.
Instead, the door pushed into me, forcing me back into the hall, shutting, a bolt sliding into place.
Naked and alone in the hallway, I scratched my head, puzzled.
My phone, clothes, and keys were all in my bag, behind a locked door.
What now? Maybe I could cover myself with my hands? Not really.
I knocked again.
Click.
The door opened, but only enough for a white notecard to slide out and fall to the floor in front of me.
Hey, I began, reaching for the knob, but the door closed and locked.
I stooped to retrieve the note card.
It said - walk to the end of the hallway, through the glass doors, and out on the balcony. Once you are there, look for instructions.
Jesus, I thought nervously, eyes darting around and over my exposed belly, cock, and balls. I almost knocked again. Truthfully, I was a little turned on, being naked in public like this, in the yellowish light of a hotel hall. I kind of liked it. And yet, leaving my clothes and taking a stroll past however many rooms - that seemed like it might be too much.
But, the instructions were clear.
I gulped.
And, I started walking. The scratchy, stained hotel carpet felt strange on my bare feet. Televisions made their muffled sounds as I passed a few doorways doorways. A woman laughed, and I almost jumped, no idea what I would do if she opened her door.
Mercifully, I made it to the glass doors, hesitating, then opening them cautiously. The balcony had several chairs and a concrete floor. What stopped me though was the parking lot, clearly visible, that stretched out in front of me through the wired railing. Oh shit, I thought, looking over the rows of cars shimmering in the street lamp light. If I could see them, they could probably see me. Again, I was thankful for the late night and the darkness. A slight chill gave me goosebumps as I looked furtively around.
Aha - there it was. I picked a card up off a small table and read - take the banana, lean over the rail, and do what the banana tells you.
Banana? What banana? I don't see a banana - oh, there it is. How did I miss it?
The banana was setting on the outer edge of the rail, in about the middle, facing the parking lot. As I inched closer to the rail, I observed a few rooms and balconies looking down toward me. I swallowed, conscious of my nakedness and that as I got closer to the metal guard rail, I was more and more visible. On the one hand, this turned me on, being exposed like this. Who might I encounter? Exciting! On the other hand, who indeed may I meet. What if it's awkward? Embarrassing?
Do what the banana tells you.
I crept up to the rail. Not seeing anyone, or at least, not seeing that anyone saw me, I took a breath and picked up the banana. Lean over the rail and do what the banana tells me? What does that mean? It was yellowish green, thick, solid, slightly curved. I studied it. As I turned it over, I noticed small writing on the opposite side.
The writing instructed: peel me and suck me like a cock. And, make it hot.
What?
Hands trembling, I took another breath and began peeling while leaning over the rail. Gulp. I licked the tip, then I licked it again. I slid my tongue up one side of the banana and down the other before licking the tip again, imagining what it would be like to be licking the sensitive underside of a cockhead. Then, I thrust the banana in, and out, in, and out, thinking of my tongue and how it might feel with a real cock. I wrapped my lips around and sucked the banana, tonguing it, and then I held it still and thrust my head back and forth onto it, moaning as if I were impaling myself on a penis, sucking and licking the (penis) banana while shoving my ass upwards behind me for good measure. Imagination rolling, I was getting into it, spreading my legs and shaking my ass while giving a blowjob to my (cock) banana.
Clap, clap, clap.
Oh fuck! I about toppled over the railing, whirling around. A slender man with several piercings and dark, colorful tattoos that reached out from behind his clothes, dressed in a dark suit, stood with a striking woman, black and blue hair long, full breasts spilling out of her tight black otherwise professional shirt. Both were smiling and clapped some more.
That was quite a performance, the man said pleasantly, and the woman nodded in agreement, eyes twinkling.
For a moment, I thought of trying to run, to push past them and escape. Then, I thought, escape to where? I also thought of trying to cover myself, but it that seemed pointless. Besides, they'd already seen the goods. So, I stood up taller, casually pulling in my gut and sticking out my chest, as if it was normal to be naked on a hotel balcony while giving oral sex to a banana.
We were wondering, the woman said after a moment, if you would like to come back to our room for a drink?
I swallowed. Uh, sure.
I'm Clara, she said warmly, extending her hand as if we'd met at a supermarket or coffee shop. The fellow said, I'm Stephen, also holding out his hand. I said, Mike, and we all shook. I felt nervous but also turned on. They were dressed, and I was nude. Hot. Yet weird. But, they seemed cool, though. Why not?
They led me partway down the hall from the room where I'd left my belongings. Inside, they had three glasses alongside a bottle of red wine and some French bread. Please, Stephen offered, inviting me to sit, pouring for all of us.
Mind if we get comfortable? Clara asked.
Uh, no, I replied, enjoying the taste of the wine and the warmth in the room. Not bad, I admitted.
I'm glad, Clara said in response, sliding off her shirt to reveal a black bra that was struggling to contain her breasts. God, she has nice titties, I thought, staring. Clara winked in reply, sliding her pants down to reveal black lacy underwear that only barely concealed a bushy black mound of pubic hair.
Good idea, Stephen agreed, removing his clothes as well, clad only in patterned boxer shorts, part of his cock and one of his balls visible through the opening (not that I was looking or anything).
No one spoke for a moment, enjoying our wine. Then, Clara said,I would like you to have sex with my husband. In particular, I want you to at least give him a handjob. In fact, that was my original plan, until I saw you blowing your banana. If you are up for it, I'd like you to think about giving him a blowjob, if you want - but a handjob for sure.
You were going to ask me? I said, wondering how it was that this couple found me in the middle of the night.
Clara looked thoughtful a moment, considering something, then continued as if I had not said anything.
In return, Clara said, Stephen will give you a handjob, and I may even let you touch these (she glanced toward her amazing breasts), if you are a good boy (she concluded, coyly). Then, a thought seemed to strike her. She turned to her husband. You know, Stephen, if he decides to suck your cock, you really should suck his.
Stephen was smiling; I could not read his face or what he was thinking.
I've never sucked a dick before, I admitted, taking a drink of wine. Thought about it once or twice, true, I said, but never as much as when, er... - my voice trailed off and I looked down at the banana on the table by me.
You did seem inspired, Clara said to me, you and your banana. Her smile was friendly, if mischievous. And, I, quite frankly, she added with a new edge to her voice, I am tired of the double standard today.
Double standard? I asked her. Stephen gave me a knowing look.
Sure, Clara said, double standard. I mean, it's hot for a guy to watch his woman have sex with a woman, right? I mean, it's understood that women are bisexual. We appreciate other women's bodies, we like their breasts, we want to lick their pussies and make them come. Right? And it just so happens that our men really like this as well. I mean, come on. Tell me - men want to have sex with women, and men want women to have sex with each other. I mean, right?
Yes, I said, true.
But what about us? Clara asked.
You?
Us?
Well, I said, it seems like you have a good deal - I mean, it's great for you to have sex with a man, and it's also great for you to have sex with a hot woman. What's not to like?
Clara's eyes flashed. You make my point, she said. But, tonight, we turn the tables. I want to enjoy the show and watch my husband have sex with another man. I get a front row seat to watch my husband have sex with you.
Hmm...I managed.
Are you up for it? Clara demanded not unpleasantly.
Well... I stalled.
If I let him, uh, give me a handjob, or a blowjob - if he gets to do that....
Yes, Clara said impatiently.
Well, I said, I want to play with your titties while he does.
Clara looked pleased. Why is that? she inquired.
Because you are fucking hot, I couldn't help blurting.
Good answer, Clara acknowledged.
Okay, come over here, both of you. And you, she said to Stephen, pausing to give him a quick kiss, before adding, get naked. He agreeably slipped off his undershorts, the two of us standing naked, together.
Clara stroked her chin, thoughtful, looking away, saying to herself, maybe I'll even switch things up... Then, she turned to us. You both do what I say, when I say it, got it.
Yes Ma'am, I said with a smile, and drank in Clara's sexy belly and breasts and legs and curves before glancing over Stephen's skinny, tattooed body. His cock was slender with a slight curve, longer than mine, and his balls hung low. Clara was much nicer to look at than Stephen, no question. Now that she was in her underwear, I could see she had some ink on her low belly as well as across part of her back, and her hair was black and full with a blue streak permeating it. Exquisite.
I turned to Stephen. Soon, we would be touching each other's naked bodies.
Butterflies teased my tummy.
What next?
You, Clara ordered, over here. She had me to kneel on the comfy chair, hands on the arms, facing the back rest.
Alright baby, she told Stephen as she handed him a bottle of lube. Put some oil in your hand and start rubbing it over his back.
I looked over my shoulder, and Stephen was smiling. He applied the oil; it had been warmed. His hands spread it across my back. It felt strange, this man's hands crisscrossing my skin. And yet, I liked it, too.
Good Honey, Clara approved. Now, massage.
Stephen began to kneed my shoulders, clenching, pushing, maneuvering his hands. Ah, I let out a happy groan.
Good Mike, said Clara. I want you to moan when it feels good; make some sound, right?
Uh, yeahh, I agreed as Stephen's fingers worked my back, adding - Oooooh, damn, that feels good.
The red wine tasted yummy on my tongue, and Stephen's hands were quite welcome on my body.
Now, Clara instructed, oil and rub his buttocks, then legs.
Stephen spread and worked oil into my tight ass cheeks. It hurt so good. Damn man, you have some skills, I said, then moan-gasped. Ah, ah, ah.
Stephen's hands oiled inside my thighs. Ooh, I let slip as I felt his fingers slide along my inner thighs and just graze my ball sac. He continued, and each time he "accidentally" brushed my balls, I moaned.
I like this, Clara said. Mmmmm. Okay, now, get close and do Mike's chest from behind - lean into him and get his pecs. Stephen pressed against me, and I felt his cock and balls and inner thigh against my buttocks. It felt weird in that he was skinny and manly, yet his nakedness felt sexy, too. And his hands, oh his hands, they worked my pecs without touching my nipples - just kneading the tight muscles.
Ooooh, I said, pleased.
Sometime later, Clara said - time for the titties.
What?
Stephen's hands massaged my nipples.
Ooh, I moaned and involuntarily pushed my ass up and back.
Then, he gave my tits a squeeze.
Ah! I exclaimed with an arch of my back.
Stephen cupped my breasts, hands rubbing circles over them before sliding down to caress my belly.
Oooh, I said, standing higher on my knees and arching my back further, pushing out my chest and belly, clasping my hands behind my head.
That's it baby, Cara encouraged. Show him you like it, she told me.
Stephen's oily hands flowed across my nakedness. It felt really good.
Balls, Clara said.
Stephen's hands cupped by testicles, fondling them while caressing beside and below them.
Ooooh, yeah, I said in response, pushing my ass against him and gripping the chair.
Cock, said Clara.
Both of Stephen's oily hands jumped to my cock, stroking upward, one after another. Clara poured more oil onto my stiffening dick, dribbling it over his hands and onto the floor.
Oh Jesus, I said, belly tingling, ecstasy all around, Stephen's warm nakedness pressing against me as his hands alternated, stroking me through the warm oil. I looked over my shoulder at Stephen, and he appeared pleased, giving me a smile. My mouth dropped open, and I was trying to look composed, but my eyes half closed, breathing becoming more rapid.
Faster, said Clara. Make him cum. Now.
The hands that reached around me gripped tight, pumping up and down, pumping, pumping, pumping.
Oh God, I heard myself gasp, panting and thrusting myself into Stephen's hands, eyes rolling back into my head. Oh God, oh God, oh God, I announced, ecstasy burning, cum exploding, gasping and shuddering, clenching my eyes shut, body shaking. Ooh, ooh, oooh, I moan-shouted. Keeeeeep going! He did. So did I.
Thank you for reading! Would you like more? Honest feedback (good, bad, indifferent) is welcome - please email jacob442011@gmail.com.