Business Travel Has Never Been So Good

by Tradd St. Croix

3 Oct 2016 7788 readers Score 9.0 (121 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Front Desk Clerk: “Welcome to Irvine.”

Me: “Reservations under Fisher.”

Front Desk Clerk: “OK…Sir, we are overbooked due to a convention and your reservation has been moved to a sister property of ours just down the street.”

Me: “We stay here every time we come to Irvine. If you move us, this will be our last reservation with you ever. There are always rooms held back. We want them.”

Front Desk Clerk: “Mr. Fisher, yes, you are correct. Normally, there are rooms held back for gold-card members, but even the President of this hotel chain couldn’t get a room here tonight. There is a cardiologist convention in town, and the fact that you have rooms down the road is kind of a miracle. Let me give them a call and let them know you are on the way.”

Me: “Sure. I guess so.”

Front Desk Clerk: Into the phone, “The reservation transfer for Fisher, they are here and ready to check in. Um, hum. OK. Nothing? What about…really. OK. Well call me back if anything changes. Yeah, I know. It’s going to be a long night.”

Front Desk Clerk: “Good news and bad news. The bad news is your back up hotel is at 100% occupancy. The good news is we just had a customer who was booked for tonight unexpectedly check out. If you can give us 20 minutes, we can turn the room and give it to the two of you.”

Me: “We booked two rooms. This isn’t summer camp.”

Front Desk Clerk: “Mr. Fisher, I realize that. But literally, it is all we have to offer you.”

Me: “Are there two beds?”

Front Desk Clerk: “No sir. I’m sorry. It’s a king-bed room.”

Me: “What about a roll-away?”

Front Desk Clerk: “I’m sorry, this room size is such that the fire marshal doesn’t allow a roll-aways because it blocks emergency egress.”

Me: To my business associate, “Mike. We’re either sharing a bed, or we are headed way inland to get away from this convention.”

Mike: “I don’t give a shit. I just wanna eat.”

Me: To clerk, “We’ll be in the restaurant. Can you bring us the keys?”

Front Desk Clerk: “Certainly sir. The bellhop can store your bags while you eat and they will be in the room waiting for you. We apologize for the inconvenience. Tonight, your bar tab is on you, but dinner is on us. Order whatever you wish. I’ll let the restaurant manager know.”

Me: “Thank you.”

Mike: At dinner, “I haven’t slept in a bed with another guy since road trips in college. And at least back then, I had the excuse of being poor.”

Me: “Well if we don’t nail this account tomorrow, we might both be poor.”

Mike: “Ain’t that the fucking truth. We have pegged our sales way too much on this opportunity. It’s do or die tomorrow.”

Me: “Do you really think he will fire us if we don’t come home with the account?”

Mike: “Based on our numbers last quarter, I would fire us if I were him. We’ve gotta make this happen.”

Me: “I’ll drink to that.”

Mike: “At least we get to drink our dinner allowance tonight. If I’m drunk enough, I won’t care who I’m sleeping with.”

After a rather boozy dinner, we retired to the bar. Mike kept flirting with the cocktail waitress. In order to see more of her, he was pounding his drinks just to get her to come back. Eventually, instead of her coming back, it was the bar manager who politely handed me the bill, verified that we were guests of the hotel and would not be driving, and requested that we pay and leave. Basically, she didn’t want to deal with his drunk ass, and I had been cut off for the first time in my adult life. I left cash to avoid having such an embarrassing bar tab end up on our expense account. Mike was a big guy, 6’-1” and over 200 pounds of muscle. But despite his normal physical prowess, he was clearly not making it up to the room on his own volition. It was tempting to use one of the bellhop’s luggage carts to haul him away, but instead, I propped him up, and we stumbled out of the bar and up to the room with as much dignity as our drunk asses could muster. Once we were up in the room, I let go of him and he fell backwards onto the bed.

Mike: Mumbling, “She was fuckin’ hot. Let’s call her. Let’s get her up here. She was fuckin’ hot.”

Me: “Yes, she was hot. No, we don’t have her number. No, she’s not coming up here. And even if she did, you would be in no shape to take advantage of it. Here, let me help you get undressed. You are going to need to drive the porcelain bus pretty soon, and I don’t want you doing it in the bed.”

Mike: “Whoa. Wait. What are you doing?”

Me: “I’m getting you undressed.”

Mike: “I can do that myself.”

Me: “Please. Go right ahead.”

Mike: “OK, maybe a little help.”

Mike pretty much passed out as I did the best I could to get him undressed. It was like assisting a 200-pound paraplegic. He was nothing but dead weight. I think most people at the office suspected I was gay, but I wasn’t really out at work. Despite my close relationship with Mike on the sales team, we had never really discussed it. Drunk or not, Mike was handsome as hell. He had that former-high-school-football-player look. He had obviously kept in shape over the years and had the muscles to prove it. But he wasn’t sculpted and cut. He had a rugged square jaw and that thick neck that when you saw him straight on was equally as wide as his face. When I managed to finally get his t-shirt off, I saw his perfect dark-brown chest hair that was only hinted at with open collars on casual Fridays, but which I would have never guessed looked this good in its full glory.

I finally managed to get him down to his boxers and lift him up off the bed. He held on tight to me as I walked him to the bathroom shouldering much of his weight. Thank god I wasn’t that drunk or we would have been in a world of hurt. I lifted the lid to the toilet and slowly lowered him down until he was sitting on the floor in front of it. I placed his arms at the back side of the bowl. As I sat on the edge of the edge of the tub, I just told him it was OK. And right on que, his body knew exactly what it had to do. I have never seen a grown man vomit, much less in such a violent way. The smell was atrocious. I flushed it down as soon as I could, but he held on knowing that round two was not that far away. I got him a cold washcloth to dab his forehead and wipe the edges of his mouth. Round two was brief, but followed by dry heaves that shook him with horrific convulsions.

After another cold washcloth, I managed to get him to slowly drink about a half a glass of water. The color was coming back to his face, and he looked up at me as if he hadn’t noticed that I was there all along.

Mike: “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Me: “No problem.”

Mike: “Where’s that chick from the bar?”

Me: “She got sick of your drunk ass and had the manager cut us off and kick us out of the bar. Way to go Mr. Superflirt.”

Mike: “She has no idea what she is missing.”

Me: “Oh yeah. There is nothing as sexy as dry heaves in your boxers.”

Mike: “Can you help me up? I gotta pee.”

Me: “OK. Sure.”

I stood behind him and helped him up off the floor. He couldn’t fish his dick out of the fly of his boxers, so I pulled them down for him. Despite missing the bowl for the first second or two, he did manage to relieve himself for what seemed like minutes. I steadied his stance in such a way that he couldn’t feel that my own dick was suffering rapid engorgement as I watched this beautiful man piss away a night’s worth of liquor. The hair on his ass was a perfect as the hair on his chest. The irony of this masculine stud being as helpless as a little girl was a bit much for me to take.

He stepped out of his boxers, and I helped get him into the bed. I fetched him another glass of water and encouraged him to drink all of it, but slowly. I placed the lined trashcan on a chair and scooted it up right next to him so that if round three emerged, he would be ready. I fetched my dopp bag from my suitcase, striped down to my boxers, and headed to the bathroom to shower.

The smell of vomit had almost dissipated, and I stepped into the warm shower. I went ahead and jacked off because I knew if I didn’t, sleeping in the same bed with Mike would be too much for my dick to handle. After drying off, I wrapped the towel around my waist and stepped out of the bathroom fully expecting to see Mike passed out in the exact position I had left him in. Much to my surprise, what I encountered instead was a reinvigorated Mike who was frustratingly mashing buttons on the remote control.

Mike: “What the fuck. This thing doesn’t work.”

Me: “What are you doing?”

I looked at the television and saw two guys in the sixty-nine position.

Mike: “I was trying to rent a porno, and then this shit just started playing.”

Me: “Maybe you aren’t in the best condition to be operating electronics at the moment.”

Mike: “After that chick in the bar, I’m just horny as shit. I’m not used to sharing a room, and I generally jack off before I go to bed. I thought you would be in the shower a while longer.”

Me: “And now we are going to need to explain why a gay porn video is on our hotel bill. I guess if we are going to get fired, we might as well go out with a bang, so to speak. I would tell you to go jack off in the shower like I just did, but I’m so afraid you might slip and fall, that I’m not going to advocate that plan of action.”

Mike: “Hey, I’m sorry I got so drunk.”

Me: “Remorse. You must be sobering up.”

Mike: “I said I was sorry.”

Me: “Well, I’ve watched you puke twice, and done everything but hold your dick while you pissed. And frankly, based on the two rolls of spare toilet paper you soaked, it would have been better if I had held your dick. So go for it cowboy.”

Mike: “Did you just call me cowboy?”

Me: “I’m not the one who is drunk, holding his dick, watching gay porn in front of his co-worker at the moment. So I would say cowboy is a fairly kind assessment.”

Mike: “Fuck you.”

Me: “You couldn’t muster the strength the follow through on that threat.”

Mike: “Well, the least you could do is get out of the way.”

Me: “Sorry. How rude of me to stand in the way of a co-worker’s gay porn.”

Mike: “Well it’s already charged to the room, so we might as well use it for its intended purpose. From what I’ve heard around the office, this is more to your liking than mine.”

Me: “Did your drunk ass just out me after I metaphorically held your hair while you puked?”

Mike: “You know, nobody gives a shit. I don’t. It doesn’t bother me. Why should it?”

Me: “It shouldn’t.”

Mike: “Right. So let’s watch.”

It didn’t matter that I had just jacked off in the shower, the conversation, not to mention the view, had brought me back to full erection. Mike had already used up all the washcloths, but I went to the bathroom, hung up my towel, and grabbed both of the hand towels. I threw one at him and got in on the other side of the bed buck naked and hard as a rock.

Me: “Have you ever seen a gay porn flix before?”

Mike: “No. I rented a bisexual porn once, and one of the scenes was two guys and a girl. But that’s as close as I’ve come to watching gay porn.”

Me: “So what do you think?”

Mike: “Honestly, I’m so horny, I could probably get off to the National Geographic channel at the moment.”

Me: “Speaking of, your dick reminds me of that special they did on pachyderms.”

Mike: “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Me: “It means you are hung like a fucking elephant. God Damn man! That is a huge dick.”

Mike: “I would blush, but all my spare blood in currently in use to inflate my elephant dick.”

Me: “No apologies necessary. I’m just jealous as fuck, that’s all.”

Mike: “Well you don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

Me: “Thanks, but it’s pretty clear which one of us is packing the heavy timber. So growing up, when you were playing sports, did guys tease you about it in the shower?”

Mike: “No, because when it’s not erect, it doesn’t really look that spectacular. In fact, it’s somewhere between average and small when it’s soft.”

Me: “I bet more than a few women were surprised when that got to full staff.”

Mike: “Yeah, they think everything is pretty normal, but then it just keeps growing. And with some of them, it scares them to death, and with others, they just beg me to fuck them. I told you that cocktail waitress downstairs didn’t know what she was missing.”

Me: “No shit.”

Mike: “So you jacked off in the shower?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Mike: “Damn. You’re fast. It takes me a lot longer to come.”

Me: “I’m a quick shot, but I can rebound pretty good.”

Mike: “We’ll see about that.”

Me: “Have you ever jacked off with another guy?”

Mike: “Yep. When I was twelve.”

Me: “Really?”

Mike: “Boy Scout camping trip. My best friend at the time. We had just hit puberty. It was hot, so we were sleeping on top of our sleeping bags. At that age, the hormones are just out of control. He saw my erection in my tighty whities, and it became a you-show-me-yours-and-I’ll-show-you-mine kind of thing. One thing led to another, and we both ended up coming all over the place.”

Me: “But just that once?”

Mike: “With another guy, yeah. Just that one time. I mean there was the occasional spontaneous erection in the gym shower, but I’ve never watched another man come in real life since the age of twelve.”

Me: “So do you normally jack off dry?”

Mike: “You mean sober?”

Me: “No, I mean do you use lube?”

Mike: “Oh, no. I don’t. So I guess yes, I’m a dry guy.”

Me: “Ever tried using lube when you jack off?”

Mike: “No, it’s never really occurred to me. I generally only use lube when I’m having sex. I guess growing up, I was so secretive about my masturbation that it never occurred to me to use anything that could complicate things. I guess I just haven’t changed the routine.”

I got up and went to my dopp bag and grabbed a bottle of lube.

Me: “Here. Hold out your hand.”

Mike: “OK. OK. That’s enough.”

Me: “Well it could take a bunch considering the amount of surface area on that thing.”

Mike: “Ha ha. Oh, god yes. That DOES feel good.”

Me: “See what I mean?”

Mike: Pointing to the television, “So is this the kind of stuff you are into?”

Me: “Among other things, yes.”

Mike: “I’m afraid to ask.”

Me: “You probably should be.”

Mike: “That lube really does make a difference.”

Me: “Yeah, when you jack off dry, the skin moves with your hand and you don’t get the same type of friction. With lube you can rub up on the underside of your dick with your palm, and I don’t know what it does for you, but it drives me crazy.”

Mike: “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Me: “Well it helps if you hold your balls with the other hand. That keeps the skin pulled tight, and it keeps it from gliding up and covering that sensitive part right under the head. Here, let me show you. See how when I pull up, the skin comes with my hand. But when I grab my scrotum and pull tight, the lube lets my hand glide easily over the head, which is very stimulating.”

Mike: “I typically jack off with both hands.”

Me: “Of course you do. Poor thing.”

Mike: “Don’t be a hater.”

Me: “Can I help?”

Mike: “Sure.”

I repositioned myself so that I was sitting between Mike’s legs facing him. I picked up the lube bottle and replenish his supply making sure he had ample coverage. I gently grabbed his balls and pull them towards me.

Me: “Now stroke yourself and see if you can feel a difference.”

Mike: “Oh my god, yes. It’s much more like fucking and less like jacking off.”

Me: “Exactly.”

Mike: “It tickles a bit, but doesn’t seem to be sending me over the edge.”

Me: “Yep, it typically leads to slower, but more satisfying orgasms.”

I started rolling Mikes balls around in my hands and gently squeezing them.

Mike: “That hurts, but for some reason, I like it.”

Me: “So you’ve never really played with your own balls?”

Mike: “Not like that. And not while I was jacking off.”

Me: “Oh that’s right. I forgot. You need both hands for the elephant dick.”

Mike: “Damn straight I do.”

Me: “Yeah, you look real straight with your balls in my hands.”

Mike: “I don’t care how I look. This feels amazing.”

I repositioned myself such that I was in a knelling position instead of cross-legged. I used my left hand to continue playing with Mike’s balls and started jacking my own cock with my right.

Mike: “I was wondering if you had dropped out of this little game. Obviously not.”

Me: “No way. I’m quite close in fact.”

I pumped my cock right up to the point of explosion.

Me: “Let go and move your hand.”

Mike: “Why?”

Me: “Just fucking do it.”

Mike stopped jacking his cock just in time for my dick to come all over it. It might have been my second round for the evening, but it was a massive load. Warm, thick, and gooey. I immediately took my right hand off of my own dick and started jacking Mike off with my cum. The combination of lube and cum worked up to a warm, white lather. The slick and viscous feel was sending him over the moon. His eyes were closed, his head was angled back, and that perfectly hairy chest was heaving up and down as his breathing started to signal an imminent eruption.

Mike: “I’m about to cum!”

Me: “Shoot!”

I squeezed his balls as hard as I could and pushed the stroking up to maximum speed. At the last second, it occurred to me that with a dick that big, cum didn’t have to fly near as far to hit your face.

Me: “Open your mouth.”

Mike: “What?”

The word had not finished coming out of his mouth before the first volley of cum hit his tongue. He reflexively closed his mouth and the next volley splattered all over his lips. Ropes of white cum were falling down in perfect lines on top of his hairy chest. He kept pumping it out one rope at a time in rapid secession. The cum was dripping off of the dark stubble on his chin. I let go of his balls and scooped a big glob up with my index finger and held it there waiting for him to open his mouth. Mike shook his head.

Me: “You expect chicks to swallow your cum and like it. Have you ever tried it?”

Mike: “No, and I don’t plan to.”

Me: “Suit yourself.”

I stuck my fingers in my mouth and licked Mike’s cum off of them.

Mike: “Gross.”

Me: “If I were a woman you wouldn’t be saying that.”

Mike: “If you were a woman, those little baby-makers would have been on an Easter-egg hunt way up in fallopian land.”

Me: “You soil the miracle of procreation.”

I put our two mismatched dicks together and looked down in awe of the size of his cock.

Me: “Are you sober enough for a shower?”

Mike: “I think I could stand up, but some help might be in order.”

Me: “So much for that video.”

Mike: “Yeah, that gay stuff. It just grosses me out.”

Me: “Yeah, I’m sure it does.”

We both laughed as we showered together. Mike said it was like the grown up version of Boy Scout camp, but much hotter. We both slept like babies. The discomfort of the situation had been totally dissipated. When the alarm went off in the morning, I awoke to the feeling of chest hair against my back, big thick arms wrapped around my chest, and a morning-wood erection up against the crack of my ass. I shut off the alarm and before Mike was conscious enough to protest, I gave him the best wake-up blow job of his life. We nailed the presentation, kept our jobs, and went on to break sales records that year. Business travel has never been so good.

by Tradd St. Croix

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