I began my career in hospitality and hotel management in Las Vegas just after the recession hit. It certainly wasn’t my childhood dream come true, but it paid the bills. There are certain perks to working in a hotel, primarily being able to relocate easily and travel for leisure on an employee rate. It wasn’t until I found employment in an Austin hotel that I had the pleasure of experiencing a new benefit that finally presented itself – a horny guest.
On a particularly mundane day at work I stood at the front desk overseeing the usual operations and guest interactions. One of my associates was approached by a man who politely asked if he could check in. I welcomed him to the property and proceeded to busy myself with some administrative work at my terminal as he was being stepped through the arrival process. I looked up before he turned toward the elevators to find him beaming at me.
Moments later the phone rang, and my front desk agent answered cheerfully. Most of us in the hotel industry, including her, hate the constant barrage of guest complaints and requests, but she was good at masking this. After a brief one-sided conversation she hung up the phone and looked at me.
“Mr. Smith wanted me to let you know that you are a wonderful manager?” she said, laughing and perplexed. “All you did is welcome him, I am the one who checked him in! You didn’t even do anything!”
“Are you trying to say I’m not wonderful?”
“Yeah, you’re wonderful, alright…”
An hour or so later I spotted Mr. Smith in the lobby working on his laptop. He was facing my direction, so it was hard to avoid making any sort of eye contact. I wondered if he was going to approach the desk and shower me with more unfounded compliments. Alas, he remained seated for a while before hitching the elevator back to his room. I postulated that he was utilizing the free wireless internet in the lobby. I decided to send him up a bottle of wine as a surprise amenity, mostly to justify his previous claim about me.
My shift was nearly over for the evening, and I was looking forward to going home. The lobby and desk were slow, making time drag unbearably. The phone rang once more, and I answered it quickly out of boredom. It was Mr. Smith.
When I asked how I could assist him he informed me that he was struggling with an audio visual issue for a presentation he would be giving the next day. He wasn’t sure what cord he needed to connect from his laptop to the projector. I figured this would be another opportunity to impress him and live up to my newly acquired reputation.
“Does your laptop have an HDMI port? We have those cables available, as well as others,” I said in my over-the-top hotel management character voice.
“I’m not sure…”
“Would you like me to come up and check for you?” I was used to people in our hotel lacking any technological saavy.
“That would be great, whenever you get a chance,” he replied before hanging up.
I grabbed a radio and informed my staff that I would return shortly after helping Mr. Smith. I made my way up to his room, happy to have a bit of an escape from the Front Office. It felt good to walk the floors every now and again.
He opened the door and moved aside so I could walk in as we exchanged hellos.The amenity I sent up was set up on the desk, his laptop on the bed, and a bottle of personal lubricant on the nightstand. “How embarrassing,” I thought. “He must have forgotten to hide the lube. Or maybe he just isn’t shy.”
I picked up his laptop which was probably the newest version Mac had released. I turned it on its side to look at the ports and found that they were all very clearly labeled, including HDMI. Looking up, I realized that he had moved much closer to me as I was examining his device. I was about to speak when he took his hand and put it on my waist. “Ah,” I thought. “What a fool I am to fall for such a thing. I’ve been lured.”
I had worked in the industry for so long, I wondered how this could have never happened before. It’s not as if I had been aging well, and this man was actually pretty attractive. Older than me, as per usual, with strong facial features and slightly thinning ginger hair and a bit of a belly. I knew it was against policy, but I didn’t want to ignore the opportunity lest I regret it later. What if this is my only chance?
What started with making out quickly turned into him trying to get pieces of my suit off, with particular attention to my pants. He pushed me back onto his bed and eagerly pulled out my dick. He sucked like a Hoover, as if he had been waiting to do this for a long time.
He grabbed for the lube, conveniently within arms-reach as he had planned. And just like that he rode me like I was a dive bar mechanical bull. The only problem was his inability to control the volume of his voice.
“You have to be more quiet, or we’re going to get a noise complaint,” I said sternly. “And I’m the manager who’s going to be called to deal with it.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he spit out.
“It’s okay, just… enjoy my dick silently.” It was an awkward thing to say, but it worked.
I could see it wouldn’t take long for him to erupt and had to scramble to move my dress shirt and tie out of the way. You never really know how much a guy is going to cum. As it would turn it in this case – a lot.
I didn’t have time to worry about “getting mine” so to speak; I needed to get back into my suit and return to the desk. I was imagining my karma coming around in the form of a fire in the lobby due to my absence. Hotels brainwash their employees well and ingrain guilt deep into their souls.
As I was fixing my hair in his bathroom, Mr. Smith asked, “You are clean, right?”
“First of all, that is a conversation we should have had before you hopped on my cock. And secondly, yes, I am STD free.” I replied curtly.
“Good, I need to stay clean for my wife.”
Wife. He said wife. He’s married? The man was obviously gay, how could this be? Does his wife know? Do they have an agreement? Or is she some delusional belle waiting for him at home while he gets his jollies travelling for work? Is he one of those traditional Texans on the down low afraid to come out of the closet? All of these questions and more were racing through my mind in that moment. Not only did I not have time to fish for answers, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know the truth. Did it matter? The deed had been done. My heart was so conflicted.
“I come back to this hotel every three months, ya know?” he said, breaking the silence.
“I didn’t know that, no.” I had to play nice and act casual. After all, he could get me in trouble if he really wanted to.
“Yeah, I’ll have to find you again when I come back!”
“Well…you know where to find me, Mr. Smith.”