Fucking Scared

I know conferences are always considered great places to hook up but I never found that to be true. The combination of the hours of shop talk, and that I am in a field not known for putting out pin-up calendars, there is rarely a reason for my mind to wander. Also being surrounded by my colleagues makes sure I am on my best behaviour. So I was not expecting to have the best sex of my life.

We had just finished a long day of lectures and workshops, and my colleagues and I went straight to the hotel bar. Although this hotel had a great patio we could not find enough seating outside, so we grabbed a large table nearby. It was my turn to head to the bar. As I made my way over, I was distracted by a guy sitting at the bar. Even just staring at him from behind, he looked hot. His white collared shirt did a terrible job of hiding his broad well-developed shoulder, his rolled-up sleeves showed his muscled tattooed forearms and the tight blue trousers highlighted his perky arse that was perched on his stool. I decided to head to that section of the bar to order my drinks in the hope of getting a better look. 

Trying to act casual, I got to the bar and I leaned in looking down the line at the barman who was serving someone else. I sensed the guy was turning his head to look my way so did likewise to meet his gaze. As soon as ours meet, I quickly turned away. Although this guy was extremely hot, he also was very intimidating. His short buzz-cut hair, thick beard, dark steely stare, and sharply chiselled face gave him an intense gaze. The combination of fear and attraction was intense, but it was the fear that was predominant. I got the sense he would love nothing more than beat my gay arse, so I returned my focus to ordering my drinks. 

Although it felt like ages, the barman finally made his way to me. I ordered a number of sweet cocktails and one whiskey. As the barman was making my drinks, the scary guy turned his head and commented my way, "at least one of you drinks a proper drink". I turned to look at him and replied inquisitively … "sorry?" He looked at me with a snarl on his mouth, and said, "I thought you gay guys only like girly drinks". Although this homophobic comment only added to the reason I was scared of this man, I snapped back, "some of us like it straight up". Taken back by my aggressive tone, he snickered, said "fair enough" and just turned away to focus back on his drink. 

I quickly grabbed my drinks and walked back to my crew. Slightly shaken by the exchange, I took a swig of my whiskey to calm my nerves and turned my attention back to my colleagues. However, no matter how much I tried or how scared I was, I could not stop staring back at the man at the bar. I was lucky that his back was to me, but one time he turned around and caught me looking. Again, I found his stare intimated me, and again I turned away quickly, scared of what he would do to this gay guy staring at him the wrong way. 

I then vowed that I would not look his way again. However, this was made hard when he got up from the bar and made his way to a table outside. I now found him sitting directly in my line of sight. He ordered some food and more beer. As scared as I was of that man, his magnetism was intense and I kept staring like an obsessed teenager. The way he drank, and the way he ate his sandwich all just oozed testosterone-driven confidence. To cap it off, as he finished his meal, I was not surprised to see him pull out a cigar from his breast pocket, unwrapped it, trimmed it and light it. Watching him lean back in his chair and inhale his cigar made me instantly aroused. I could not look away. I watched as half the people on the patio looked at him annoyed, while the other half stared at him with admiration, either clearly wanting to hang with him or be fucked by him… and I was clearly in the latter.

Continuing to be engrossed in his cigar, he was in a world of his own, and so I thought he did not notice me until he turned his head and caught me staring. Out of embarrassment and fear, I once again quickly turned away.  When I finally looked up again, I saw he had rearranged his chair so now was facing me, his booted foot resting on his knee, cigar hanging from his lip, beer in his hand resting on his leg, staring back at me. This power pose only added to his intimidation. However once he noticed that I was once again looking his way, I saw his other hand slowly move and rest on his groin. In a slow and careful movement, he began to run his hand over his groin, slowly drawing it along his trousers to highlight his cock that was off to the side. I could not believe what was happening and quickly looked around to see who else might be seeing what was going on. Realizing this show must be meant for me, I looked back and he smiled. He then put the beer down and stood up and made his way along the patio, walking awkwardly close to our group and heading past us, never breaking eye contact, he continued to the bathrooms near the pool. I was frozen in shock at what was happening, this man scared me and I did not know how to respond. Caught between fear that this was a trap and that I was going to get my arse kicked and arousal of getting fucked by this hot alpha I was torn as to what to do. Trying to not overthink it, I stood up and told my crew I was heading to the bathroom and started to walk to the pool area. My office mate stopped me and asked where I was going as there was a bathroom in the opposite direction, inside. Feeling like I was caught in the act, I mumbled an incoherent answer and continued to walk to his bathroom. I picked up my pace before my colleagues could ask any other prying questions. 

As I approached the bathroom I could smell the odour of his cigar as I entered. Even though the bathroom was outside, the confidence of this man to smoke even in the bathroom only reinforced that he did not care what others thought of him. As I entered I saw he was at the urinal. I looked around and noticed there was a man in the stall, so knew we were not alone. Scared, I forced myself to join him at the urinal. Not looking at him, I pulled out my dick and started to relieve myself. Despite the temptation, I did not turn to look at him. The sound of his stream sounded as forceful as he appeared. Then I heard the man in the stall flush and head to sink. As he washed his hands he looked over and snarled at the man, annoyed by his cigar smoke then stormed out. Now as we were alone, fear arose in me again, questioning my choices, I turned back to concentrate on peeing, not before seeing him shake his impressive flaccid six-inch cock. What surprised me was that he did not put it back in his pants but rather walked away, dick out and headed to the now-empty stall. I knew that I now had to decide to take this opportunity and run or follow him. Not sure why but I decided I had to see where this led so I followed him to the stall. 

As I entered, I found him leaning against the stall wall, one leg bent with his foot resting on the wall, still smoking that damn cigar. I shut the door and stood opposite him, staring right at him. He did not say a word, but took the cigar from his lips and then spat in my face. I was shocked and did not know what to do. This was something i never engaged in sexually before but was scared to address it.  Not being able to think what to do, he grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me down so I was now on my knees facing his cock that was still hanging out of his trousers. I eagerly opened my mouth, but before I could wrap my lips around his waiting dick, he gripped his dick and pointed at me. Thinking he was going to guide it into my mouth I was surprised as started to pee directly into my mouth. The yellow stream hit the back of my throat and splashed down my chin onto shirt. He then guided it around,  covering my face with his acrid urine. Again shocked I did not know what to do. Luckily he had already peed, so his bladder was not full, and stopped as quickly as it started. Before I could respond he then took his cock and rammed it into my mouth which was still agape.

I was abruptly brought from my shock to the moment at hand. The thing I fantasized about was finally happening. Degraded and scared as I felt, I was still aroused and excited to get to work on his cock. I wrapped my lips around his shaft and began to suck it down. He let go of his cock and grabbed the back of my head. He pushed my mouth further down his shaft. He then pulled out and then rammed it back down my throat. He then held my head in place ensuring all of his hard eight inches were against the back of my throat. I struggled to breathe through my nose as my mouth was stretched around his manhood. Then we heard someone walk into the bathroom.  He then momentarily let go of my head. I took this moment to gain my breath and then went back to work,  eagerly taking his cock back into my mouth. I held it by shaft and worked the head with my tongue. As the stranger peed, he leant back and focused again on his cigar while I quietly continued to work his cock. When the stranger left, he grabbed my head again and aggressively resumed face fucking me. The drool built up in my mouth with each onslaught. After what seemed like ages I heard his breath increase, as he thrust harder, then he stopped holding my head down so his cock was ball's deep and I felt him release his load down my throat. Not being able to breathe, I swallowed each drop. He then relaxed and slowly pulled out. I continued to suck on his cock. cleaning it as he pulled out. Once done, he tucked it back into his trousers. I stood up and looked directly at him and smiled. He smiled back and said "seems you enjoyed that faggot". All I could do was nod in agreement. Then he said if I want to continue later, his room was 435. He then smiled, and I was more shocked as he leaned in for a kiss. His lips were more sensual than I expected. Before I could register what had just happened, he opened the door and walked out, leaving me dishevelled and still coated in his piss and semen.

Once I had finally collected myself, I headed to the hand basin and tried my best to clean myself off. Although my shirt and hair were still wet, I looked more respectful and walked from the bathroom. I realized I now needed to go and talk to my colleagues. I did the walk-up of shame up to the group and hoped they would not know what happened. As I was walking over to my group, I looked over at his table and noticed he had packed up and left. I then realized I had reached the table with my colleagues. I was glad to see that many people at the other end of the table were so engrossed in their conversations that they had not noticed I was gone, while the people at my end started to ask what happened. Realizing despite my best effort I still looked noticeably dishevelled.  I decided the best thing was to embarrass myself and tell them I slipped in the bathroom. I then told them that although I tried to clean up I still felt gross. So I excuse myself and went to my room to clean up. They all said how sorry they felt as I waved goodbye and headed back to my room. 

In my room, I quickly took off all my clothes and jumped into the shower. As I washed away the residues of my exploits, I felt the shock and confusion of what just happened hit me. I seemed to have been willingly violated. I was surprised at the realization that I let him take advantage of me, but what was more clear was that I enjoyed it. The combination of shame, fear and arousal was new to me. These thoughts continued to pull at me as I stood in the shower, water running down my toned body. I was better than this, I knew better, yet the thought of him using me made me harder than I have been in a long time. Despite knowing nothing about this man, other than that he intimidated me and that he saw me as a faggot he could use, I wanted to go to him for more intimidation and abuse. I convinced my reasoned-self that the kiss he gave pointed to something meaningful, that this was more than just him using me as his sex toy, but I knew better than to read too much into one small thing. With my mind now firmly made, I turned off the water, dried myself and continued to prepare myself for our next meeting. I put on a tight t-shirt and fresh pair of jeans and grabbed my key and headed out the door.

I walked down the elevator and got off on the fourth floor, and started to head down the corridor. It was clear that this was the smokers’ floor. Despite the smell of carpet cleaner and other scented devices, you could still pick up the odour of stale tobacco from cigarettes. The smell was unpleasant but I knew could be worse, however as I approached his room I started to be taken over by a stronger and headier smell of a cigar. The aroma, although also intense, was more herbaceous and leathery and I found it much more pleasant than cigarettes. From that smell, I knew I was heading in the right direction and was getting immediately aroused. When I came to his door, I knocked but noticed it was ajar so let myself in.  As I walked in I saw him sitting in a leather armchair in the corner, still in the same slacks and white shirt, a half-smoked cigar in hand and a whiskey bottle on the table in front of him. He told me that he had expected me a little sooner. I apologized and explained I had to clean up before I came over. He then turned and stared at me, his gaze still intimating, and asked if I was ready to get properly fucked. Again I found myself shocked and taken back by his demeanor, but as before I just politely mumbled affirmation as I stared back. As I approached him, he undid his zipper and pulled out his cock. I did not wait for instruction and got to my knees in front of him. I took this cock in my hand and brought my mouth down onto the tip of his member. He allowed my tongue to caress his dick, to sensually explore his manhood while he leant back, enjoying his cigar and whiskey. I was surprised by the lack of aggressiveness this time around. I took the opportunity to admire how handsome this man truly was. With his narrow eyes, his chiseled features and his manicured beard, I had no doubt many would submit to all his desires, but that he still chose to force me to submit made him more mysterious. As I looked up at him, his cock deep down my throat, he undid the top buttons of his shirt to reveal a hairy well developed chest. He never ceased to get more attractive. With shirt now full open, he stood up, pulled his cock from my mouth, and threw off his shirt. The tattoos on his arm extended up and around his body. As he stood in front of me, cigar back between his lips, his muscled body rippling, I knew that things were about to get aggressive again.

He told me to stand up and take off my clothes, which I did immediately, without a word. He walked up to me and spun me around so I was facing away, and leaning on the back of the sofa. He then pressed against me, his groin rubbing against my naked arse. He then leaned forward and whispered into my ear, "You are about to get the fucking of your life"... With these words, I felt my already rock hard cock twitch with anticipation. With that he pushed my head down so I was bent over the top of the sofa, face in the cushions. He then placed one of his fingers into my arse. Luckily I had primed my arse with numbing cream and a little dildo play in preparation before coming. He then increased the fingers to three… with his aggressive finger play I began to worry he might want to use his whole fist, but luckily he stopped and grabbed his cock instead. He then slowly teased my whole with his cock head, which was lightly coated with my saliva. He then began to push deeper into me. It took me a while to accommodate his large eight-inch cock, but once he was full in, he paused enough for me to relax and lean into the pain. Just as I was use to him being inside me, he then abruptly pulled it out and before I could sense the emptiness, he rammed it back in. From the shock and pain I let out a small whelp, which seemed to add to his eagerness to repeat what he did. This went on, over and over again, maximizing the pain and intensity and never fully allowing me to get use to him.  I kept letting out moans and whelps which seemed to excite him more. He continued to rape my arse over and over again. Then very abruptly he stopped. He pulled out and then grabbed me and flipped me over the back of sofa so I was now on my back on the seat of the sofa.

He went around the sofa, adjusted me so my legs were in the air. He then guided his cock back in and grabbed my ankles which were near his head. He then started to fuck me from the front. This time he did not pull fully out, but still fucked me aggressively. Seeing him fuck me, his sweat building, eyes squinting, teeth gritted, muscle pumping has he pounded me, was more than I could handle. As each thrust tickled my prostrate, my own cock just got harder and harder, twitching more with each thrust. Finally I could not handle it anymore and came all over my chest, each spurt mirroring his thrusts in and out of my arse. I almost collapsed in ecstacy. I was quickly brought back by the assault on my arse. Indifferent to my coming, he increased his pace. and got more aggressive with each push until he did one final thrust as I felt him cumming in my arse. He collapsed forward as his body spasmed with each ejeculation. When he pulled out of me he fell down by my side. Both of us spent, covered in sweat, laid back as we caught our breadth.

As I gained my composure I was not sure what was next. What do you do after this? Previously, I would just ask if they wanted me to stay, but I did not even know this guy's name and besides scaring me, he hardly acknowledged my existence, other than to use me. So I just assumed I should politely leave. As I stood up to get my stuff he asked, "heading out already?" I looked at him surprised. Then said, that I just assumed twice in one day might be more than most men could handle. He just smiled and said, we can do other things beside fucking…  I did not know what that might be but was happy to stay and find out.