By Pete Richards

I’m sure it’s not just me who finds hotels a little bit sexy. The flirty guy at reception, the bell boy who hovers too long in your room or the hushed, late-night voices all render me in a constant state of arousal. No matter how ‘up market’ or starry, I am permanently horny in these human hives.

On a work-funded jaunt to the Middle East (that’s all you need to know) I rediscovered one of my favourite aspects of any hotel – the lift.  Getting my key and walking into the elevator I noticed two Arabic-looking guys shuffling across the foyer towards me. As the doors to my mirror-box closed I hurriedly reached for the ‘open’ button (as a helpful gesture, not as a thinly veiled metaphor). I also realised that perving on these two would make any journey more enjoyable. So I smiled widely as they thanked me (I guessed it was a thank you but I didn’t understand a word – Arabic/English dictionaries do not make for the most invigorating airplane read!)

Fully utilising the mirrored walls I checked out this dark and sexy pair in sandals and matching Levis. I worked my way up from their flip-flops (the name automatically conjuring images of reciprocated fucking). I scanned their muscular, thick legs and pert, round (almost twinned) butts. Ignoring my presence (or perhaps for my benefit) one reached over and hung his thumb off the other’s back pocket. Choosing the latter as the more plausible explanation I quickly checked my hair and adjusted my cock. As I prepped myself (still certain the lift was suddenly a homo-only space) I wondered if the gesture before me was a sign of ownership, some non-verbal communication that they were gay, and together – or a come on (again I opted for the latter). Deciding that I would add to the sexual tension (and as this lift was taking forever to reach the seventeenth floor) I stopped leaning on the gold handlebar and stood straight up – my crotch hovering even closer behind them.

I could tell they sensed me behind them. My warm breath tickled their necks and wafted up to their perfectly clipped hairline.  Despite my self-absorbance I caught them both checking me out in the mirrors beside us. Reciprocating with my own unsubtle stare I couldn’t decide which one I would prefer – which is always ideal when planning to shag a couple, which I definitely was. I’d even re-shuffled my schedule. I decided I was merely being conscientious, not overly confident.  Still scanning this perky pair I saw the one to my left, his high ass cheeks just a fingers length away from me as I stood, hands in pockets like some Malboro-Man clone with an overactive gay gene. Browsing him over whilst imagining I was chewing on a toothpick, I noticed he had slightly longer hair than his counterpart, but both were topped with black, thick and shiny coifs. Their broad shoulders sharply nipped in to small waists, hugged by perfectly fitted jeans. Having perused the fine specimen to my left I redirected my prospective gaze to my right. Scoping out his contours I rubbed my beard in contemplation and removed an imaginary ten gallon hat to scratch my head – I was determined to work this cowboy idea I had going!

With his hand hung from his boyfriend’s round (and inviting) ass, I followed his muscular and hairy forearm, up to capped sleeves stretching over round and defined biceps. A tricep or two bulged under his fitted black t shirt. Absorbing this perfectly broad frame, my eyes dragged down to the small of his back; t-shirt clinging to his damp body leaving a strip of tanned, naked skin above dark blue denim. Cocking my head to the right I caught a glimpse of a bead of sweat running down his back, peeking out before dripping down his high ass and absorbed by his crisp white pants. Catching his boyfriend’s eye in the mirror I realised my mouth was open and salivating. Smiling (and swallowing the bucket of spit I’d produced) I opened my mouth to speak but was rudely interrupted by the familiar ding of our arrival. Springing out of the lift behind them I paused to watch which way they went but was swiftly obstructed by a drunken couple in the hallway. I’d lost sight of my coy couple but caught a glimpse of a suitcase wheeling into the room next door!

Zipping into my room, dropping my case at the foot of the bed, I leapt on the wall like a spying Spiderman, ear pressed to the thin divide between me and my neighbours. I faintly heard someone turn a shower on and another flick through channels on the TV – Sport, Music, Off. In the silence of next door I heard a click and then traffic noise – he was on the balcony! With more super-hero agility (horniness is an amazing thing) I lunged to the French windows, eased them open and gracefully stepped out onto the light. Met with a warm blast of dry air, and momentarily dazed by the sun, I couldn’t see if anyone was outside with me. Blinking, and shielding my eyes, I noticed one of my lift buddies leaning over the balcony next door. Smiling whilst squinting (but trying desperately not to look like a disapproving mole) I stopped myself from leaping over the divide and ravishing him there and then. With that same trail of thought I visualised myself then bounding into their room and bouncing off his boyfriend’s butt for a few hours. Hoping he couldn’t read my mind (or hoping he could and liked what he saw) I moved over to speak but he simply smiled, nodded and slinked back into his room.

“HE SEEMED ON EDGE AND LOOKED NERVOUSLY UP AND DOWN THE HALLWAY. ‘COME.’ HE REACHED OUT FOR MY HAND AND I CONFUSEDLY COMLIED. DRAGGING ME (PRETEND THAT IMPLIES I WASN’T TOTALLY AND UTTERLY WILLING) TO THEIR TOOM, HE SHUT THE DOOR BEHIND ME”

Standing there, my mouth open, one proposing finger in the air, I was frozen in time – preserved as a perfect example of the premature come-on, shot down before puberty! Peering over the glass partition I could hear voices. Leaning dangerously further I could just make them out – both now stripped down to towels. Catching me leering into their room I suddenly realised I was one of those guys – a stalker! In a pathetic prophecy I saw myself in dark sunglasses and a dingy Mac, flashing sexy twinks well into my 80’s. Suitably ‘de-egoed’ I returned their privacy and recoiled to my room.

Grumping towards my bed I slowly unbuttoned my linen shirt. As I flopped on the crisp sheets like an unwrapped sex doll there was a knock at the door. Suddenly re-inflated, I tucked my loosely buttoned shirt into the front of my low cut jeans and pranced towards the door. Composing myself (again sure it was my sexy pair next door) I heaved it open and stood there “sexily”, the tips of my shirt resting on my pubes, just visible above my unbuttoned trousers. My collar languishing open, I rubbed a hand over my shorter than normal chest hair (clipped for a more even tan) and looked up – employing every coy technique I had mastered over the years. Massaging the back of my neck as I opened the door, I cheesily looked up, brushings my hair from my eyes and blinked demurely.

‘Oh…hi!’ I thought a bit of surprise would make up for any hubris earlier.

‘Hi, um… [he was clearly thinking of the word]…Come [I thought he chose a good one]’

He seemed on edge and looked nervously up and down the hallway. ‘Come.’ He reached out for my hand and I confusedly complied. Dragging me (pretend that implies I wasn’t totally and utterly willing) to their room, he shut the door behind me. Slightly bemused, I looked up and smiled at the second of my perfect pair. Clumsily they introduced themselves. Blurting out their names and laughing nervously I found them even more appealing. NB: incredibly sexy but a bit goofy = perfection! I realised they used shortened version of their names so I did the same (it also seemed easier as my Arabic accent still needed perfecting). Naz was the slightly taller with dark soft hair on his forearms whilst Abs (Abdul or Abbas? I have since Googled boys’ Arabic names) was more muscular (with the smuggled coconuts for butt-cheeks). Without much muddled communication Naz reached out towards me, pulled me in and forced me together with Abs. Giggling, and a bit awkward I leaned in to kiss him. Turning to Naz I smiled and leaned in for his lips but was again rebuffed in favour of Abs. Confused and concerned by his dismissal my inner turmoil lasted ages in my head but probably only took a few seconds in the real world: I could either chase the ‘aloof’ one or keep everyone happy by devoting my attention (and rampant hardon) to Abs. Once more I opted for the latter, keeping an eye on Naz for any hint of jealousy (I didn’t fancy being hacked to pieces and scattered across the desert!)

Redoubling my efforts with Abs I pulled him firmly towards me pressing his tightening jeans against mine. Nibbling on his full lips I dragged mine down his neck, chewing gently on his exposed jugular and collar bone. One arm squeezing him against me, the other cupped his right ass cheek, a good handful; my fingers perfectly snuggled between ass cheek and the top of his hard thigh. Squeezing it firmly I felt his breathing start to speed up. Applying both hands to his full rear I massaged each cheek like it was unthrown clay. Molesting each cheek and gently pulling them apart my mind filled with images of his slowly relaxing and opening hole. Dazed by this alluring mirage I faintly heard Naz issue a command from the bed. He had reclined casually, playing the role of ‘hands-on’ porn director, gearing and observing the performance enacted before him. A few more clipped words from Naz and Abs tore my shirt off me – literally tore! My buttons flew across the room – my favourite linen shirt was ruined! Realising just in time that I was having an Elton moment I suppressed my desire to scream and cry and then scream some more. I felt the soft, baby pink linen running down my arms and laying on the floor, a casualty of gay-war.

Unsure if I was acting in revenge for my shirt or spurred on by Abs’ sexy aggression I fully reciprocated and ripped his short off. Not stopping there I spun him around and whipped his jeans down to his ankles. Hearing reassuring and satisfied groans from our director I swiftly followed this up with his white pants, perfectly complimented by his tanned thighs and smooth, dark back. Throwing Abs’ underwear towards his boyfriend I worked my way up to kissing his neck via a short stop to tongue his hole. Nibbling on his right ass cheek I admired his perfect Speedo tan lines.

Bending Abs over the dresser I pressed his stubbly cheek against the mirror in front of us. I spread his muscular thighs more widely with my knees and slapped my dick over his pale and slightly fuzzy ass. Working my cock through his smooth crevice I left a shiny trail of pre-cum between his cheeks and up his back. As I continued to slip and slide across Abs’ lower quarters I felt Naz slip something into my hand. Complying, I sheathed my swollen head in a fluorescent green condom. Although I am often easily distracted this definitely was not something I expected and my mind began to wander. Filled with images of sex with neon cucumbers I refocused with more commands from the director. I angled my dick before his shiny, tiny hole. His pink pucker tightened with anticipation, still glistening from my spit. My cock-courgette slowly nuzzled into his tight ass.

Pressing lightly I could feel nothing but resistance – there was no way my cock was fitting inside him – it was like parking a caravan in a dog house, like threading an ass needle with a marrow, like…(okay you get the idea). Pushing harder, and hearing his gasps of pleasure I was determined to squeeze in (even if it took rearranging his insides in the process). Despite my desire to ram-raid his chutney chute I retreated. My cock softening by the fear of injury – I had a dysfunctional image of him giving birth to my dick – a nervous mid-wife in the background with scissors. Turning to Naz, half apologetic, half pouting – I wanted to stomp my feet and huff off, flaccid semi swinging in the wind. Instead he came over, drooled into his hand, slapped it roughly on Abs’s impenetrable anal wall and bent him over in front of me. Pushing his head down, Naz issued some very gruff sounding orders and forced his rock hard cock inside his boyfriend.

Almost yelping, his recoil was ignored and there ensued a barrage of anal pounding. Pumping away on his boyfriend’s hole, Naz seemed like a maniacal rabbit, bent on global reproduction. Relaxing on the 10 millionth thrust, Abs breathed deeply as he swallowed my dick, each perfectly timed thrust by Naz testing his boyfriend’s overactive gag reflex. Rubbing my hands down Abs’ smooth back I slipped my finger inside his hole as Naz continued to pump it. Perhaps feeling it loosen (or picking up on my impatience to have another go) Naz withdrew to his director’s spot on the bed, stroking his thoroughly efficient (if reasonably sized cock). With his hole re-lubed and de-virginised I readied myself for another go. Moving towards the bed, Abs climbed on the mattress while Naz presented his boyfriend’s inviting entrance. Mounting the mattress I moved closer to this pink and pert fortress, now unguarded and hopefully unlocked.

Squeezing more lube onto my cock I ran some up and down his crack. Massaging his warm crevice I focused my attention on easing his hole open. One finger first, then two, pushing them in a bit deeper, just so the tips disappeared inside him (I didn’t want to loosen him too much and spoil the fun for my cock!) Repositioning my light-sabre on his pink passage I eased my head inside him. Pushing harder I could feel his tight hole slowly giving way but not without a fight. My shaft felt compressed, almost suffocated. I decided there was only one way to resolve this – the option of coming out again did not even register this time. Hell-bent on breaking (him) in I pushed more of me inside, firmer and faster but still slow (I wanted to fuck him for hours not give him an anal fissure from half my dick!) Easing more in I quickened my penetration and managed to give him my full shaft, right to the hilt, my pubes nestled between his ass cheeks. His pleasure/pain moans suitably stifled by a near-delirious Naz. Spurred on by his boyfriend’s clear enjoyment I slowly withdrew half and then gave it back to him. For some reason I counted five of these (not that I especially like five) and then did another five more rapid with a good amount of impact on re-entry.

As Abs seemed to ease into his decided fate Naz and I both increased our intensity. As he thrust his cock deeper into his boyfriend’s mouth so too did I test his anal capacity. Grasping his ass cheeks in my hands I spread them so I could see his hole stretched round my dick as I continued to pound on his ass, harder and deeper, my cock enjoying it. I could feel that I could probably do this for hours without coming (especially useful as I wanted to spray my load across his face). Continuing to work his hole I could feel it succumb to my shaft as I thrust in and out perfectly smoothly. Realising Naz was getting close (the even coating of pre-cum and saliva across Abs’ face was a give away) I withdrew my cock from Abs relaxed hole and immediately thrust it back in. Retreating and then invading again and again I could feel myself building up to shoot. On the eighth or ninth plunge I could feel my cum rising. Coming out I grabbed Abs’ ankle and dragged him down the bed, flipped him over and shot all over his chest, neck, face, hair and right up to Naz, kneeling behind him. As he gawped at my man-web all over his Abs, Naz twisted his head and deposited a load right in his mouth. Almost invigorated by this (cum is clearly his gay spinach) Abs slurped on our cum drenched dicks as he furiously stroked his own cock to cumming. Mentally capturing the scene before me I then grabbed my jeans, smiled and dipped out the door.

As I hopped out of a quick shower I could hear Naz and Abs at it again. I pondered whether this meant I hadn’t satisfied them but decided that Naz was probably taking advantage of his boyfriends nicely loosened hole. Immediately aroused by this thought I hoped back in the shower, soaped up my cock for a soapy wank courtesy of the complementary shower gel.

Images from Calients courtesy of Raging Stallion Studios