Dirty

I was in a hotel out of town (you know a lot of my stories are out of order, right?). I had a time limit due to scheduled activities, but got hit on by a guy who claimed to be beefy and muscular – and the image he used verified that. Slightly older, but nothing undoable. The pic of his cock was nice and fat. I do love girth. His body type seemed heavy but not fat.

Pictures lie.

While the body type was not my type, depending on the personality (and the dick!) I can work with that. This guy’s personality, when he showed, was just overpowering, but not in a good way. He kind of barged in, started making demands and not necessarily sexual ones. He was definitely heavier than he portrayed – much heavier.

The bad thing was, I knew it would not be easy to get him to leave. He was the kind of guy who missed all the social queues, or ignored them. On the right kind of guy, that could be hot (the ignoring them). This was not that kind of guy.

I was trying to beg off, due to my social engagement, but his pants were coming off anyways. There stood his fat, but shorter cock. At least he was erect. He wanted me to go down on him, but I knew it wouldn’t be a good situation. It’s one of those things where I’d have to fight his belly to get his cock. Again, I tried to beg off, saying I misjudged the timing. He was having none of it.

Get on the bed….face down. This is where I know I’m slutty. Where I am just a fucking disgusting pig. I figured it would be easier to live through the fuck and get him to go.

I will give him this. He hit the bullseye the first time out. And he POUNDED. These were cheap mattresses on a cheaper stand. He was moving that bed every which way. The hotel was so sleazy and disgusting that none of this would be out of place. Standard operating procedure here. I lay there, basically taking it like a victim, just hoping it would end sooner than later. My lack of interaction and enthusiasm didn’t deter him in the slightest….if he noticed at all.

He lasted longer than I thought he might. But eventually groaned and shot. Then laid there. I’m trying to say I needed to get ready to go……and he just kind of lingered, on me. Then when he did pull off, he wanted to shower. Lord. I tried to tell him the hot water did not work – which wasn’t a lie. He even brought his own towel. Clearly he didn’t care about the water warning. He took one anyway while I bided my time.

He wanted to chat as he dried and changed. I kept looking at my non-existent watch, pretending to get things ready for my departure. This did not spur him on to make haste. Eventually he finally got out of there…..with his own towel in hand. There he went, clean.

Something no soap and water would do for me the rest of the day.