Vivre Hotel By Scanthweb@aol.com
"Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to be the first to welcome you to Zixon International Airport, where the time is 5:45 pm. We know you have a choice, so we want to thank you for flying Albatross. Please remain in your seats with your seat belts fastened until the captain turns off the seatbelt sign, indicating that it is safe for you to exit the aircraft..."
Whew. What a relief to land after 11 hours in the air. The thought of curling up in a decent bed in a trendy suite was sounding mighty good about now. While I'd never been to downtown Zixon, at least I could count on Vivre, my all-time favorite hotel chain. It seems that no matter what city I'm in, if there's a Vivre there, I know I'll be in good hands. From the valet parkers sporting the prettiest boys I've ever seen, to the greeting staff [no front desk!] that check you in with palm pilots, to the personal attendant who does a 30-minute acupressure session in your room upon arrival, well, that's just the tip of the iceberg.
After a relatively pain-free baggage claim and car rental, I found myself driving up to Vivre's main entrance. Not unlike W Hotels, the buffed valet dude in black slacks and black rugby shirt was attentive as usual, flashing pearly whites, pecs for days, and a grace that should have been utilized on stage at the ballet. Who knows, maybe it is. Or will be someday. Anyway, before I knew it, another perfect guy grabbed up my bags, my car had disappeared into the bowels of the hotel's parking structure, and I was being escorted to my room by a Susie-surfer type who knew my name. Damn. That's the freakiest part of it. Vivre has this option where you can scan your picture when you make your reservation. If you do, you can count on everyone recognizing your face and calling you by name. Shit. Her approach was so personal, it was as if we'd known each other for years: "Justin! Hey!! How are you? How was your flight? God, Pallamous is SO far away, what was it, like 15 hours? Anyway, I'm Erin, come on, let's get you to your room already!"
I chuckled, amused by all the fanfare. There's nothing more satisfying than a group of professionals who know how to make an average Joe feel like a fucking king.
"So Justin. Look. That flight was obviously grueling. You're gonna want Eric to work on some of your reflex points. He's GREAT!"
"Sounds good," I said.
With that, Erin was speaking into the little mic clipped onto her black lapel. "Hey Eric, Justin just got off a majorly long flight.. yep, 1408. OK, cool."
"He'll be up in about ten minutes, is that going to be OK?"
"Um, yeah, sure. Of course."
It was actually perfect, as I suddenly felt a big stirring in my gut, something that's happened before in my extensive travels. Something about arriving at a hotel, a resting point that, after hours and hours of travel, my body seems to know better than me to just relax and allow nature to take its course.
Erin was efficient as she quickly unpacked me. I gave her twenty bucks, and sent the bubbly sweet gal on her way.
Aah. Finally I was alone and at peace. I stripped off every speck of clothing and made my way to the bathroom for a good healthy dump. Vivre was simply too much- in its bathroom, every single wall- with the exception of the black-tiled floor, was mirrored. So I got a three-dimensional view of myself as I entered the bathroom and splashed water on my face.
Knock-knock.
Shit. Was my acupressure guy here already? So much for my great dump. Damn.
I looked through the peep-hole [the most ridiculously high-tech thingamajig I had ever seen in my life-gives you an entire wide angle view of your visitor] and was not surprised to see that Eric gave new meaning to the word hunk. I opened the door, and his smile made my knees weak. Full lips, tan face, greenish eyes, dirty blond hair, stood about 6'4".
"Hi there, Justin, I'm Eric. Listen, I'm sorry, I'm a little embarrassed to ask, but do you mind if I use your bathroom for a few minutes before we get started?"
Considering the fact that I had answered the door naked and needed to find a robe anyway, not to mention make a phone call to my office, I said sure.
He didn't exactly shut the bathroom door. In fact, he didn't even make an attempt. As I got out of his way, he quickly entered the bathroom, fiddled with his belt, slammed the toilet seat down with a bang, and before I knew it I was hearing the graphic sounds of an intense male shit, farts and all. This guy really had to go. I couldn't resist saying something to break the tension.
"I guess you feel better now."
Eric laughed. "Uh, YEAH! Thanks buddy, I appreciate it. I just finished working on this old lady from New York, and all through it I had to go SO bad! When Erin told me it was you, I had a feeling you wouldn't mind my using your john real quick."
There was that weird familiar thing again. I almost regretted sending my picture when I made my reservation; after all, who ELSE was going to know me? Maybe anonymity isn't such a bad thing after all.
"Well, it's no sweat, really. Except for one thing. I gotta go too, so hurry up!" I said, chuckling.
"Oh, man, that's hot... I mean, hey, no problem, that's cool."
How weird. He slipped on his own words. He thought it would be hot for me to take a dump? Hmmm...
After another minute or so I heard the tell-tale flush, followed by, "It's all yours."
"Thanks, Eric," I replied as I walked in, not waiting as he washed his hands. The smell of his shit was a turn-on, not to mention making me have to go really bad again. So I just did it with him standing there watching me through the mirror. I found a way to look him in the eye through one of the mirrors. He did not look away. Neither did I. I pushed out log after log as I stared Eric down, and he stared me down. Wow. How rare for this to happen. A hot guy turned on by my naked vulnerable self, sitting on the toilet taking a dump. My dick got way hard.
Before I knew it, Eric was standing in front of me, then sitting down on my thighs. He leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth. It was a delicious kiss, clean mouth, nice firm tongue, and those green eyes never left mine. He sort of grunted as he kissed me. As if he were bearing down. And he was. He had managed to take another shit between my legs, evidenced by the loud kerplop as his log crashed into the water below us. Damn. How fucking hot was that?
"Oh, man, I love that we're doing this!" I managed to grunt as I continued to stare into Eric's eyes.
"Me too. Can I come over tomorrow morning? I don't start my shift until noon."
"Yeah, that would be great. We can order room service!"
"Well, OK, but I'll have to hide in the closet!!"
We both laughed, and then Eric started doing something a little strange, but damn hot: he started sucking on my nose, as if it were a dick. The cool thing was that I could still look into his eyes as he did this. Then his tongue was probing my nostrils, one by one. I hadn't experienced someone who liked to plow another dude's nostrils, so of course I was turned on. And of course I had to try the same thing. Wow. Salty good. A weird sort of new level of intimacy or something. We were opening yet another facet of ourselves to one another and it was damn hot.
After considerable making out and some pretty hot ejaculations all over each other, we toweled off and Eric got me into my bed and proceeded to do the job he had come to do. What amazing hands he had! It was as if he was able to untie every knot in my body, head to toe.
The last thing I remember was Eric kissing me on the forehead, and then I was out like a light.