I was back and my post and guys were trickling in from a long night doing fuck knows what. ...or who. Such is the nature of these events, to a degree.
I was in my kilt and well, guys take advantage of that to a degree. And I let them. To a degree. During a break, someone was a level below me and snapped a picture of well......me. It's a kilt, not a skirt, so I was going traditional, as I'm told the Scots would say.
So that's floating around there somewhere.
But often men would put their hands under just to check. I rarely stopped them. I chalked it up to a sales technique, but it had more to do with letting guys feel me up.
One "older" man was a little more aggressive about it. It was his first CLAW so he thought it was a great way to get to know guys. Touching them. Kissing them. He felt there were no restrictions - and while I agree there are fewer, I wouldn't say it was a free-for-all.
He touched and kissed. He caressed. He was making me hard. He was making me tent in the kilt. Going by his view, no one really cared. Some watched, others just went about their business - they'd seen it before. They'd see it again.
He wanted me to come to his room where he and his friend would be. I said I could be there in a bit, but after I got new volunteers settled. He took my phone number to text me the info. He sent a pre-emptive text...something to which I could reply.
And I did. He said they were in room 154.
254. 554 and now 154. I am thinking there might be sex gods or something, and this was no longer a coincidence.
The door was open. In the room stood the guy I made out with. I'm sure he told me his name, but I forgot immediately. This wasn't about life long friendships. He was maybe 60, 5'8, 180, grey, where he had hair. 6 fat inches.
His friend, Paul (I remembered that one), was in the chair,. 6'1", 180, a ton of dark hair and glasses. Very cute.
The bed has already been stripped as housekeeping thought they checked out. It's ok, I wasn't going to sleep anyways.
Guy 1 pulls out his cock and tells me to go down on him. Gladly. I suppose before that he felt under my kilt and got me hard again. But then I went down on him.
He sat on the edge of the bed and I bent over to take him to the root. Behind me, Paul lifts up my kilt - exposing myself to the elements and to well....Paul.
He kneels and eats my ass. He is good at it too. Not as good as I am at eating ass, but he's more than admirable. He tells someone (me? the other guy?) how great my ass tastes and what a nice butt it is. Still, I'm blowing the first guy and I hear him ask, "you need a rubber?" Paul hesitates for a second and says, "nah".
Paul then thrusts in. One shot - all the way in. I never had even seen his dick at this point.But I felt it. Guy 1 holds me in place. Maybe they thought I'd object. I kind of hope they thought I'd object and were just taking advantage of me.
Paul would say how hairy my ass was. He had picked up my phone and started to record his in and out strokes.
It was a nice cock.
I didn't know this yet. At some point he tossed the camera to Guy 1 and he took shots from his angle.
It turns out that Guy 1 was also filming from his camera (I haven't seen his handiwork yet).
What was to be a quick bit of fun was now nearing 30 minutes. I was taking work calls while working on them.
Guy 1 came out of nowhere. I didn't know he was close. I don't think he knew he was close. It was a generous load. Lots of cum. But Paul wasn't there yet. He just kept pumping away - oblivious, or just not caring, of the two times I said, slow up a bit.
Now, I know no one is supposed to really listen to the bottom, but I was feeling a bit....ummm.....uncertain (down there), and usually it passes, but I couldn't gauge how things were. But Paul didn't care....which kind of turned me on.
He kept going until he started cumming. Paul just started shooting his load right up my ass. I was definitely moaning as he did it. Not that he was asking or looking for my approval.
When he pulled out, I slumped off the bed a little and he walked in front of me and presented his cock. I put my mouth around it and his hand went to the back of my head.
What I'm assuming was to Guy 1, were the words, "this fucker has two hot holes".
I'm not sure a higher compliment could have been paid.
As I didn't really have to dress to get out of there. I put the kilt back down, thanked them, told them I hope they enjoyed CLAW and made my way back to the area I was managing.
I never did make it to 354 or 454. Drats.
2 comments:
I was beginning to wonder if this hotel only had one room on each floor and it was room 54...lol
Paul looks like of cute, was he?
Kilts are so easy access that I often wonder if Scottish men from days gone by knew what they were doing in the design and were having a lot of m2m action that never made the history books.
Now I really wish I could truthfully say "Well, I was in room 354..."
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