"The Exhibitionist" by Tom Browning
Aside from a factual, real-life story, with details from an associate, this story is mostly fiction. I welcome commentary & other emails, contact me at westwwhirld-1@yahoo.com .
The inside of room 410 smelled of stale cigarette smoke, rank sweat, and sweetly of mildew. The sun's first rays were skinny fingers of light were creeping across the floor. It was bright. In fact, it was blinding. Sitting up, and looking around, I found the sources of the first two scents. As for the mildew smell, it was all just part and parcel of the Habana Hotel, a crumbling mass that sat near the interstate. The Habana had once been something remarkable, and nowadays it sat, faded in it's grandeur, but still standing, and still hosting parties. Oh, if these walls could talk.
I looked around the half-bright room, taking in the naked, sleeping bodies, the emptied bottles, and a camera tripod. I raised my head from the sofa--my perch for the night? Surveying the room, I could count four or five bodies. All male, and all asleep. Or unconscious, or passed out. Sitting upright, and collecting my thoughts, I made a plan to head out. I was all alone on the couch, and something was different. My head was still reeling from the night before, so it felt like a ton of bricks, and my eyes were adjusting to the intense strips of light poking through the shutters.
Standing briefly, and doing a one-legged hop to get my jeans back on I nearly lost my balance and toppled to the floor. No one had noticed. Looking around the room once more, I looked at the camera-less tripod. It looked lonely standing there. The tripod and camera had been about five feet from the room's shower, but now it stood motionless at the foot of the bed. Like a solitary soldier, guarding some ancient fort. I wondered where the camera was. More importantly: where were the movies? Where was the camera man?
I had arrived last night at The Copa a little after 11pm. The Copa was a popular gay nightclub for the younger set located within the Habana Hotel--both structures were from another era, and their facades were decadent. Likewise, the clientele and service at each club could be equally decadent.
Last night I had the honest intentions of just hooking up. At least once. But I ended up in something quite different.
Now while The Copa and Habana Hotel catered to a strange milieu of patrons consisting mainly of really hot 20somethings, it was likewise frequented by a bevy of bears, leather daddies & some elderly gents. My target group were the 20somethings. My usual MO included arriving just before midnight, finding the perfect fratboy, and departing for his place pronto had worked a number of times.
Wandering drinkless around the club, I spotted several guys who would fit the bill. Here and there, amidst the smoky shadows and sprinkled around the dance floor, were guys more my speed. Two guys at the bar caught my eye: Frat Boy & Twink, both were blonde, together and while built very differently, I discovered later, both were only 21. I made eye contact with both, as they rejoined their group of a few more guys. After making my rounds, I headed back toward the bar. I ordered a water.
Closer to the dance floor, the group of younger guys milled about. In the group were mixed bag of guys, but the frat boy and the twink were obviously a couple. The others were certainly attractive, but my eyes were on the two blondes. Their eyes glanced my direction, and I smiled. There was something about these two that caught my eye.
Frat was tall and lean, he wore a trim sweater that hugged his body tightly. This sweatershowed off magnificent jock body, and highlighted his large biceps. Twink, on the other hand, was shorter and outfitted in a black dress shirt and semi-formal slacks. I smiled, and moved on. I could still feel the gaze of both boys.
Much later in the night I found myself upstairs in the Hotel Habana. I had ducked out of The Copa for a second. I had been looking for Frat Boy & Twink all night, and ducked into an elevator and headed to the second floors. Speeding down the narrow hallways, I made my way through the labyrinth like passageways. The air on this floor was hot and still, and it made my throat close a little.
I came upon on Room 410 and walked right on passed. I wanted to find the stairs, the exit, the parking lot, and get out of here. I neared the exit, when noise erupted from the end of the hall, and a older man appeared at the doorway of Room 410. Later I would find out this room belonged to Frat Boy & Twink. Out of sheer curiosity, I retraced my steps back to Room 410 and gazed inside. What I saw gave me pause, and it also gave the very beginnings of an erection.
Frat was clothed in soccer shorts & a t-shirt with a team logo across his nice chest. Twink wasn't around, but older man was adjusting a camera on a tripod. The tripod was set up outside a bathtub & shower combo with the curtain pulled wide, and inside the shower was the writhing body of a teenage boy no older than 16 (I later found out he was named Peter, and that Peter was 18, he promised me). He was small-framed, slim & appeared to be wearing a jock-strap. The older man stood salivating at the camera, as Frat leaned back in his chair, adjusting himself; both were watching the boy's motions in the shower.
The older man noticed me at the door and smiled. Opening his other eye, he motioned me inside. He smiled at Frat, and Frat nodded and smiled at me. He went back to the camera, and zooming in on the boy in the shower who seemed to be masturbating in slow motion. I could tell the boy in the shower could tell he was being filmed, and that he was arousing the older males in the general vicinity with his show. The boy in the shower pulled down his jock, and stroked his full erection.
Frat invited me in and told me about the show. Frat told me his name, and the name of Twink. He further explained Twink was downstairs still dancing the night away, looking for other guys that they could film. The couple were from Kansas, about 3 hours from here, and in town for a few nights. Frat said the couple owned and operated a porn site. Frat's website featured guys in showering, nude or semi-nude, and sometimes, if the guys were into it...more. I was curious about the boy in the shower, and the old man was focused on him now more than ever. The older man had an erection growing in his pants as he taped the boy.
The boy in the shower had lowered his jock, and worked it off. He was now standing still in the wet of the shower completely nude. Quivering from the cold or the sensations spilling over, the boy stood up to his full height, flexing his young body. He was hairless, aside from a small patch under his arms. I walked closer to observe the thin, lean youngster with his hand splayed out on the back wall of the shower. Lewdly groping himself, the camera man tinkered with the camera. He was really getting off on this; I could tell by the way he licked his lips.
I noticed that, very slowly, the suite began to fill with men from downstairs. Just a few guys, each settled around the set up near the shower to watch the on-going show. Frat explainedthe setup and offered me a role in the show. I balked. Frat offered to film me and not show my face, but I told him I was camera shy. Licking his meaty lips, the older man looked up at me for a second, and moved his hand to his groin.
"His name is Peter, and we found him downstairs," Frat explained. The high schooler was jacking himself faster and faster, and nearing completion when the older man joined him in the shower. Not missing a beat, the old man, fell to his knees and quickly began giving the teen sloppy head just outside the shower. Leaning forward, Peter's eyes glimmered, shimmered, and maybe faded a little. He didn't know where he was. The older man, meanwhile, mindful of the boy's state, began to inundate the lad's lap with quick, thrusts of his head. These thrusts were devoid of feeling, or sophistication, but the effect was the same. He knew it was working, even is he was getting a little spray from the shower head.
Reaching a certain point Peter began to cry out loudly from the shower. Gaping up at the boy, eyes searching, awaiting the impending rain of seed, the older man ogled him and worked his mouth harder. The older man's face was now fully wet. Flopping around inside the shower, the boy emitted a final deafening note before erupting in the older man's mouth. Eager and playful, his tongued danced and lapped at the boy's cum; Peter saw this and fell backwards in the shower. Contented, the man turned back to the camera, and showcased the thick, creamy wad of sperm that sat perched upon his tongue.
I could see clearly--we could all see clearly as he was wagged his tongue before the recording device. Once he was certain his white reward had been amply recorded, he lifted his head skyward, closed his mouth and greedily gobbled the load. I was repulsed and aroused, but my penis was just showing aroused. Frat asked again for me to perform in the shower. I told him I didn't need the fluffer, but that I would preform.
Frat offered around drinks to the guys, but I passed. I wanted to keep my wits about me.
I steeled my nerve, and stripped. I was pretty smooth naturally, but otherwise trimmed. I was proud of my body.
Once inside the shower, I felt the heat of the camera on me; or perhaps, it was the gazing glare of attention the audience and camera man had focused on me. I felt helpless, but also aroused. I had to go through with this. I placed my hand on the bulge, and began to unbutton, and undress. Amazed and silent, the guys sat back and watched my show. I didn't know what I was gonna do, but I knew it was gonna be hot.
My pants lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, and my shirt. Bucking my own hips, I smoothed my hands down my body, slowly rotating back and around. This offered the audience members an excellent view of my assets: my stomach/abs, my legs, my ass. The hard work at the gym had paid off. Fully naked, I began to stroke my penis in earnest. At this point I was in the zone, the camera and the audience members, and Frat and the older guy had all faded from my mind. They had faded from existence. It was just me and my dick, a seriously hot show I was giving everyone inside Room 401.
Or so I thought.
Creeping, crawling on his stomach, Peter maneuvered up my leg and latched on to my penis.
I was caught off guard by this movement and instantly choked at the sight of the brown haired boy. Frat had assured us the lad was 18, and I'm sure he was, but the figure before bore nosigns of maturity. In an instant, the youngster was lapping at my balls, individually and then together, all the while fluttering his light lashes up at me. Unsteadily I planted my feet, and tried to regain the feeling in my legs. The sight of such a slight figure between my legs was a surprise, but his talents were noteworthy.
Undeterred, Peter moved back to my dick, licking and slurping his way to the tip. In a flash the boy had me at my end, and ready to burst. I was shivering and shaking on the very edge of a cataclysmic orgasm of epic proportions when I began to unleash a torrent. It was at that moment young Peter popped his pinky inside my ass, and began to wiggle it about. Surprised at the intruder, and exhausted from the climax, I let out a muffled whimper as I flooded Peter's mouth. Soon the boy's lapping motions weren't enough, and a significant amount of fluid rained down the boy's chin and on to his smooth chest, creating a slight glazed affect.
Now it was my turn to crumple to the floor of the shower, along with my pants and shirt. I was dazed and watching the boy as he rose. Even at his full height of 5'7", Peter was no imposing sight. With the camera still rolling, the boy proudly displayed his growing manhood-sure enough the boy was erect again. Through the filmy shower doorway I could see the older man licking his lips. Disgusted, I rose up and engulfed Peter's undersized member in one gulp.
Peter was now the surprised one; it was me now that was artfully licking along the length of the boy. Admittedly this was easy to do; Peter still had some growing to do. For now, Peter's fully engorged dick fit easily in my mouth. Sliding playfully, up and down, I put my hands around the boy's waist and pulled him closer. His slight figure, and the ease with which I moved him, reminded me of the disparity in size. Slowly Peter began to leak a steady flow of precum, and I was there to get it. All of it.
For second time that night Frat and the others watched, while the older camera man filmed the boy in the shower. Spinning him slightly, I moved my mouth and sucking action closer and closer to his ass. Once there, I latched onto Peter's rosebud and began invading his ass with my tongue. Slurping, smacking it, and getting it wet, I worked my tongue. Plunging deeper and deeper into the youngster, I knew I was on the right track when Peter cried out and began to shake. He pushed back into my face. Next he bent at his waist, pushing his ass further into my face, his pressing his hands and arms up against the front of the shower giving the entire suite a show. Dancing wildly and fully erect, Peter's dick pointed straight up along the boy's stomach. I knew he was close and I needed to get deeper.
Then Peter made a sound that was heard throughout the Habana Hotel, and left the watchers of this erotic scene leaking cum or at least groping madly at their own meat. I could sense it was close, and I could taste it. Clawing wildly up the shower curtain, Peter sprayed a thin, watery cum. The cum left Peter's body with such velocity and intensity that hit made a sound as it struck the faded curtain. I could hear it. I don't know if the others could or not. Maybe they were too focused on the kids cries and yelps of pleasure. I could hear all that, and more. I could hear the kid's hard breathing begin to slacken, and so I withdrew my tongue to survey the damage.
I stood and help Peter to the door the shower. Runny globs of semen coated parts of the shower door where Peter had come earlier. I had done that; I had been the one that caused the 18 year old to cry out and come uncontrollably, ultimately spraying the shower with seed. Right now the semen looked like milky dollops, viscous fluid running down to the drain.
Still too weak, and kind of out of it, I moved Peter to the couch, and joined him. The come down after the climax zapped me, and I nodded off myself, ignoring the camera man still filming us, and the few guys who still lingered in the hotel suite.
Looking around the hotel room this morning, I can see the remnants of last night's partygoers, or what's left of them, and their filth. There's no sign of the older man or Peter, nor the camera that filmed us. Looking around the room once more, I collect my things, and slip unnoticed into the hallway, gingerly closing the door of room 410 behind me.