Author: alex-isnt-real

The Hotel Hookup

Ages ago, I came down to the bar at a hotel I was staying at for a late night drink expecting it to be quiet, only to find wedding guests relaxing around it. Who holds a wedding on a Wednesday night?

The reception, and its own open bar, was off in the main hall. Fortunately, these were just the people who peeled away looking for air and to escape the Electric Slide.

And there she was, tipsy and in a strange mood. Myself, being the charming man that I am, took full advantage. I attempted to introduce myself as she slushed and spilled her wine next to me. Still the gentleman, I offered to help clean up the fresh stain on her dress in my room, not even finishing the exchange of pleasantries.

My eyes looked between each of hers in turn, and once to her lips. A shitty tip I read online but surprisingly one that worked. She blushed at the attention and took my offered hand, the uncharacteristically adventurous part of her coming out. She didn’t even know my name, she just took in that I was well dressed, articulate and older. Read more »

[MF] [Rough] The Hotel

She didn’t know what she was getting in for when she begged for it.

Never mind Rose was curled up into my arms now, sleeping softly, in clean white sheets. We were in our hotel room and we had basically been in bed since “The Experience” two days ago. 

She had shown up, shaken beyond belief, after we were done. Her eyes were wide with lust and her usual submissive demeanour had gone out of the window. She wanted me and so took me selfishly, riding me hard to a series of orgasms that she spent a good while recovering from. And then went for more. I let her, loving the reaction and change in her.

I’d massaged Rose down after of course, praised her, bathed her, caressed her hair and even read to her as she fell asleep. Two days had passed with me lavishing attention and pampering her in bed, kissing every part of her skin and telling her she was beautiful. And she had recovered, slowly but surely. After that level of intensity, it always takes a while. Read more »

[MFM] Center of Attention

Heads turned.

Just the way she liked it when she walked into a room: all of the attention focused on her.

She hadn’t even reached the bar before the first drink was ordered for her. When it was placed at her fingertips she looked down with disdain; it was a vodka cranberry.

The bartender motioned with her head at the buyer. He tilted his head, happy to have her attention. It wasn’t often a gorgeous woman walked into a bar alone, this near to closing, looking like her. He thought he knew what she was after.

She gave him a once over. He wasn’t wrong but he also wasn’t it. A bar fly, probably all talk and shallow moves. Expensively dressed, overly tanned, with a shit beer in his hand. She scoffed at him, at his offered drink, and turned away. He wasn’t worthy of her. She knew she deserved better.

The others of his type, the hungry and the horny, backed down at one of their own being rejected. While they collectively licked their wounds, she hunted. Read more »

[MF] The First Experience

This is a true story, my story, embellished and simplified for the sake of the writing.

Everyone expects to lose their virginity as a teenager. I actually didn’t; I didn’t push it. I had reserved parents, was nerdy and cripplingly shy, the opposite of what I am now. Hell, I didn’t go on a first date till I was 19 (it was a disaster) and didn’t get a girlfriend till I was 21. And by mean get, I mean she said, “We should date.”

She was 19, Greek, curvaceous, fair skinned, had light green eyes and curly brunette hair, which she would straighten for me because she knew I liked it that way. She loved all things Japanese and treated me well and I, as much as I could as an inexperienced guy, reciprocated.

That day, I showed up at the flat she shared with her sister. I waited in her room while she got changed. She emerged wearing a floral black and white dress. It started with a date, she found a Japanese restaurant serving okonomiyaki for us. FYI, if anyone reading this knows of a good okonomiyaki restaurant in London, I’ll buy you said okonomiyaki in thanks for helping me rediscover a milestone from my youth. Read more »

[MF] Concubine

I’m property of the man who bought me.  

No, you stupid piece of shit. I’m not a slave. But he is my Master. A Master I adore, now. 

That man made me what I am. That man molded me into the gorgeous woman writing these words.  That man makes sure I eat, exercise, study and sleep. That man puts a roof over my head.  That man dresses me in his finest. 

That man is one I give my body to whenever he wants, however he wants. Even though he is free to take what he possesses. 

He owns me but I’m something more. I’m a concubine, a consort. His favourite plaything among his others. 

Someone he is proud to have on his arm in public when he needs it. Someone he can engage with. 

This isn’t some hapless little girl’s fantasy about being on your knees on a velvet cushion waiting for him to walk through the door.  

No, I live the life I want when he isn’t here. I recline in a silk robe, my own perch he has given me.

The moment he enters, after telling me he is in town so I can prepare, I become a tool to service him. To worship him. Read more »