Mm
I wish I could say I got fucked and left sweat and cum stains on the crisp sheets at this nice hotel as evidence my ass got rammed good, but I can’t. I’m actually working here and craving cock. It’s been a quiet night. An occasional tweaker will come downstairs for a cigarette. With one in particular, this white trash dude about 6’5, I keep dropping subtle hints that I want to taste his dick, and feel his nut explode in my asshole. Perhaps I was too subtle when I said with a wink, “Let me know if you need anything, *anything* at all,” stressing the second “anything” and adding “to help you sleep.” The subtext, of course, is that, after a vigorous fuck i’m offering, it will leave him and his balls drained; he’ll sleep like king. The most overt signal, though, would have to be my boner. In between doing my job and writing this post, I play with myself through the huge hole I have in my right pocket. When he comes down, I make no effort to hide it. He hasn’t noticed it.