The motel room was, to be generous, a little ratty.

The wallpaper was dingy and hanging in strips in spots. The ceiling had some interesting stains on it, resembling blood having splashed up from below or really nasty water leakage from above.

The mattress on the bed was thin, lumpy and discomfiting, but at least it was relatively vermin-free. Don had heard no reports from any of his friends of crabs, scabies or any other sort of creepy-crawly living in the depths of the thin sheets or uncomfortable comforter, which was a plus. It would be horrible to go home after a night of passion only to discover itching or pain in a naughty area brought on by unwelcome guests.

He made sure the door was unlocked, and began his preparations for the evening. First, he pulled the lube and condoms out his bag and put them on the bedside stand. He laid out the array of dildos, vibrators, nipple clamps, handcuffs, manacles, light whips and other assorted paraphernalia on the desk in the corner before jumping into the shower. Annoyingly and familiarly, the damned thing would not give out hot water.

The irony of taking a cold shower before fucking entered his mind, but left as quickly, chased away by the sensation of his soapy hand on his cock. He realized that he should probably stop himself before he put a very premature ending to the night’s festivities, so he rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a threadbare towel around his waist.

Returning to the bedroom, he dropped the towel and flopped face-down on the bed, his head turned away from the door. As Don listened to the metronomic beat of his heart, time seemed to slow, stretching away into eternity as he waited for the door to open. Every footstep passing the room sped up his pulse just a little, but his heart rate dropped again when he realized it was not his room the feet were seeking.

Finally, he heard the doorknob rattle and the hinges creak, then the door shut softly and the lock clicked. A half-dozen steps, and he could hear his visitor inspecting the items on the desk. With only a second-long whistle as warning, one of the cat-o-nine-tails smacked across his buttocks, stinging and warming the area. A few more lashes, and his cheeks were burning.

The scourging stopped, and surprisingly soft hands placed a blindfold over Don’s eyes in a familiar, intimate gesture. One hand briefly stroked his stubbled cheek before roughly grabbing one of his wrists and wrenching it behind his back. Thick leather manacles were affixed to the wrist and its partner before one of those soft hands wrapped itself around his bicep and jerked him onto his side.

He felt the head of an erect cock poking at his upper lip, into his nostril, slipping by his chin. He opened his mouth wide, allowing the rod access. After a few gentle, short strokes, the hands clasped onto the back of his head, forcing the entire shaft down his throat until the scrotum was wedged against his cheek. The upward curve of the shaft combined with the fact that he was lying on his side made Don gag, despite the cock being at the upper end of average-sized. He tried to relax and breathe through his nose, and after a few more thrusts, the hands released him.

He pulled his head back for a moment to recover, and then reopened his mouth, allowing the tool back in as those hands began to work some lube into his ass crack, fingering the hole before forcing their way in. After a minute, one finger became two, then three as Don started to moan around the thickly-veined shaft in his throat.

The fingers pulled out suddenly, making him whimper with a combination of pain and longing. They were soon replaced, however, with something larger, spongy and rubbery. With the blindfold still on, his hands manacled behind him and an erection keeping his head in place, Don couldn’t be sure which of the many toys was being eased into his rectum, whether it was inert or battery-operated, what color it was.

After being fully inserted, however, he felt a slight twisting, and then a buzzing sensation as the vibrator was turned on, set on low at first, then medium, then high, and the keening noises bubbling up from Don’s chest started causing his nose to get stuffed up, making it hard for him to breathe. He tried getting in air around the cock between his lips, but could not make it work. He eventually managed to say “Stop!” around the cock and spit and snot, and within two second, both his mouth and ass were empty.

“I didn’t mean…” he started, before feeling a light slap across his cheek.

“Shh…It’s okay,” said the man he could not see. “It was time for a change anyway.”

Don was lifted forcefully off the bed and dropped onto his feet in a standing position next to it. He stretched his shoulders a bit, as much as the manacles would allow, and cracked his neck. He felt hands running up and down his back, then his sides and finally his chest and stomach. The fingers wound themselves in the mat of his chest hair and tugged gently. Finally, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other hand thrust sharply against his shoulder, doubling him over. He felt fingers again at his ass, applying large dollops of lube to the entrance to his bowels, and then heard the tearing of a condom packet.

For a moment, all was peaceful, and then he felt the nudge of a cockhead against his sphincter, pushing forward gently, almost tentatively. When his muscles unclenched, the dick pushed forward more confidently, until he could feel the attacked sac press up against his balls. Then the fucking began in earnest.

Slow, long strokes alternated with hard, fast ramming, and Don felt a lube-covered hand wrap around his own erect tool, stroking him in rhythm with the thrusts into his depths. His unseen lover’s torso pressed against his back as a series of jackrabbit thrusts knocked the breath out of him, the hand rubbing against his glans in maddening circles. When his knees began to buckle with the approach of orgasm, the arm returned around his waist, holding him up and pulling him back until he was fully impaled. His seed shot out onto the bedspread as his partner’s hips gave a few last quick thrusts, his ears filled with the grunting of his coming lover.

They both fell onto the bed, and after a moment, Craig released Don’s hands from the restraints, allowing him to remove the blindfold himself. Don rolled over, stretching out his arms to take Craig into a quick embrace, their mouths pressed together and tongues entwined like snakes mating. After a moment, they pulled apart, Craig grinning impishly, Don’s expression a little more sheepish.

“Same time next week?” Craig asked, giving a wink as he pulled on his clothes.

“Of course, you sexy thang,” Don replied, heading towards the shower.

As the still-cold water cascaded down the crack of his ass, Don heard the door slam as Craig left, and his mind briefly flickered over to thoughts of his oblivious husband, sitting at home, no doubt working on refinishing another antique chair.

One thing is for sure, Don thought. Adultery is much more fun when you’re married.

 

© 2004 Anthony Glassman - Contributor's Bio