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Hope motioned him in. “Darlin’, we’re just getting started.”
“I hope you, uh, like the room. Where-where do you want me? To sit, I mean, you know.”
His nervousness was endearing, especially considering their earlier familiarity in the baggage room. After they’d all regained their breath, the three of them had had a brief conversation. Polite introductions had been made, and Dean had carefully mentioned he finished his shift at six.
A silent conversation had taken place between Hope and Xavier. The ever-increasing eyebrow raises were half-seeing if the other was okay with the idea, half-dare. It had taken a few indirect questions for them to establish he only wished to watch, not participate, much to Xavier’s relief. Sexual experimentation was all well and good in theory, but he still didn’t think even he could imagine himself putting his penis in another man or for that matter, having one placed in him. It seemed he did have limits after all.
Hope took charge, pointing to an armchair opposite the bed. “How about there? We haven’t hit the bed yet. It will be a novel change.”
Dean first opened the champagne, handed out generous glasses, and then settled into position. He rubbed his smooth chin. A waft of cologne drifted from him. It appeared he’d made quite an effort.
“I couldn’t believe my luck when you two agreed to…well, to this. Working in a hotel comes with certain advantages, but I never dreamed…This is something that only happens when all the Tinderverses align, and you guys, wow. I mean you’re not just super chill. You’re amazing together, you know? So natural.” He smiled warmly. “How long have you been together?”
Xavier shot a sideways glance to his companion. “Uh, like a week.”
The clerk laughed. It was a deep, hearty laugh. “Yeah, right.” He clinked glasses with them. “There’s no way the two of you have only known each other for a week. You’re so fucking cute. The way you look at each other and perform with each other.” He lowered his gaze. “There ain’t no way you haven’t been together for years.”
Hope shrugged. “No, really, we met a week ago.”
“Fine, don’t tell me.” He rolled his eyes and took a large sip of champagne. He squinted. “Three years, I reckon. Short enough that the spark’s still there, while not long enough to be bored with one another.” When that didn’t garner a response, he said brightly, “Better than a porno, you say?”
Hope gracefully placed her glass on the table and did her best sex-kitten look. “Far better,” she purred.
She stepped towards Xavier purposefully and undid his belt. His pants fell to the floor with a thud. As she rubbed his boxers, she said to Xavier, “You’d better put in an extra effort this time, my lover. We have an eager audience.”
“I’ll try and keep my end up.”
Pulling down his underwear with a flourish, she replied, “As will I.”
Xavier stepped out of his jeans, his erection already strong and proud.
Wrapping her elegant hand around Xavier’s manhood, Hope told Dean, “I suggest you sit comfortably.”
Dean’s eyes were wide, his jaw locked. He did as he was commanded.
“Excellent, then we shall begin.”
Removing his t-shirt first, Xavier next helped Hope to remove hers. His hand slid down her back to her bra clasp, but she slapped it away.
“Not yet. Bed now. A girl has to maintain some mystery.”
He chose not to respond, only comply. He strolled towards the bed and crawled onto it. Despite the beatific sculpture that was Hope’s body, Dean’s gaze followed Xavier’s bouncing cock the entire way. Xavier knelt on the bed as Hope slid herself down in front of him. Taking up position on all fours before his hard penis, she looked up and took it in one hand. She gave it a rough lick, and electricity shot up his body and balls to his brain. Without waiting, her mouth enveloped his manhood, and she loudly sucked in unison with the pumping of her hand.
Xavier watched the top of her head bob up and down and was lost in the pleasure. She was incredible. In that moment he forgot everyone else in the room—hell, the whole world.
Hope didn’t.
She removed her mouth, a long string of saliva threaded from her mouth to his penis. She asked Dean, “Are you sure you don’t want a taste? It’s really something.”
Their guest looked at Xavier and must have seen the flash of panic in his eyes. Dean shook his head and took a sip of champagne. He motioned with his hand for them to continue, undid his belt, and pulled his shirt from his jeans.
“Well,” Hope said, her voice low and gravely, “if you’re going to watch, how about a little direction? How would you like him to fuck me? Tell us what position you want us to screw in.”
A slow moan emanated from their guest, his focus on the penis in Hope’s hand.
“Doggie. I want him to fuck you doggie style.”
“You heard him, darling. We’d better give the audience what they want.”
