Business trip - Chapter 1 (Patreon)

The hotel was one of those mid-range places companies always book when they don’t want to spend real money, clean enough, quiet enough, and completely soulless. Our rooms were next to each other on the ninth floor.

I found out how thin the walls were around eleven that night.

I was answering emails when I heard Ryan’s voice come through clearly, frustrated and a little too loud.

“Are you serious right now, Melissa? It’s been almost a month.”

Silence. Then sharper:

“I’m not asking for anything crazy. I’m asking my own girlfriend to let me fuck her in the ass once in a while. You always say maybe later. It’s always later.”

Another pause.

“Yeah, well I’m tired of jerking off in hotel bathrooms while you’re at home acting like anal is some big fucking favor.”

I sat completely still, laptop forgotten on my thighs.

A minute later I heard his door open and close. Footsteps in the hallway. The soft ding of the elevator as he went downstairs, probably to the bar.

I stared at the wall for a long time after that. Ryan was the kind of guy you wouldn’t look at twice in a grocery store. Twenty-eight, solidly built without being gym-obsessed. He had the body of someone who played sports with friends on weekends and still ate whatever he wanted — broad shoulders, a thick chest, and a bit of softness around the middle that kept him from looking carved. His arms were strong, but not veiny or overly defined. Just regular strong.

He kept his brown hair short and simple, the kind of haircut that only needed a trim every few weeks. His face was open and average in a pleasant way: straight nose, a bit of stubble by the end of the day, and the kind of easy smile that made people trust him at work. He wasn’t particularly tall — maybe just under six feet — but he carried himself with the casual confidence of a guy who’d never had to think too hard about how he looked.

Ordinary. Straight. The type of man who owned three pairs of the same jeans and still looked decent in them.

Ryan had a girlfriend back home. He’s kind of guy who was polite but careful around me once he found out I was gay. Not hostile, just distant. I’d caught him looking a few times over the past year. Quick glances he always pretended hadn’t happened.

Tonight those looks suddenly made more sense. Maybe he likes ass, an easy hole to fuck. I need to discover…

I closed my laptop, grabbed my wallet, and left the hotel.

There was a small adult store three blocks down. I bought a simple black lace thong and a matching bralette, paid in cash, and walked back with the bag under my jacket.

Back in my room I locked the door and went straight to the bathroom.

I took my time. I shaved carefully until the skin around my hole was completely smooth. Then I cleaned myself thoroughly — warm water, slow and methodical — until I was empty and ready. When I finished, I stood in front of the mirror for a moment, running a hand over the smooth skin, already half-hard from the preparation itself.

I put on the lingerie. The thong sat tight between my cheeks, the thin string disappearing between them. The bralette looked ridiculous on my flat chest, which was exactly the point. I left the door unlocked, turned off most of the lights, and got on the bed on all fours facing the door.

I send him a text: “Hey man, heard you yelling on the phone, if you need to talk knock on my room. I’ll be up.”

Ass up.

Waiting.

Almost twenty minutes passed before I heard movement in the hallway again. A keycard. His door opening and closing. Then silence.

A minute later there was a knock on my door. Two short, heavy raps.

“David?”

I didn’t answer.

The handle turned. The door pushed open.

Ryan stood there with a plastic hotel cup in one hand and the clear smell of whisky on him. His tie was gone. The top buttons of his shirt were open. His eyes landed on me and stayed there.

For a second he just stared.

“What the fuck…”

I kept my cheek pressed to the mattress, heart slamming against my ribs.

Ryan stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He locked it without looking away from my ass. The cup dangled from his fingers for a moment before he set it down on the dresser.

“You heard me on the phone,” he said. Not a question.

I nodded once.

He let out a short, rough breath. “Jesus Christ. This is crazy!”

He walked closer. I heard the soft sound of him undoing his belt. The zipper. The rustle of fabric as he pushed his pants and underwear down just far enough.

Then the thick, heavy head of his cock pressed against the thin strip of lace between my cheeks.

“My girlfriend won’t give me her ass,” he muttered, voice low and bitter. “Almost a month of ‘maybe later.’ And here you are… already presenting your hole like a bitch in heat.”

He hooked a finger under the string of the thong and yanked it to the side. The cool air hit my freshly shaved hole for half a second before the blunt head of his cock replaced it.

He didn’t ask.

He just pushed.

My tight hole was already filled with lube but still the stretch was immediate and brutal. Ryan was thicker than I expected — heavy, solid, the kind of cock that forced its way in whether you were ready or not. I bit down on the sheets and forced myself to breathe as he sank deeper, inch by inch, until his hips were flush against my ass and I could feel every pulse of him inside me.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Of course you’re tight. Fucking figures.”

He started thrusting without giving me time to adjust — long, hard strokes that made the bedframe knock lightly against the wall. One hand stayed locked on my hip hard enough to bruise. The other grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back.

“Since the whore I actually date won’t give me her ass,” he snarled, voice rough with whisky and frustration, “I’m gonna use the faggot’s instead.”

The words hit harder than the thrusts.

He fucked me like he was angry at someone else. Deep. Relentless. The wet sound of his cock driving into me filled the quiet hotel room. 

“This is how you like it, Melissa? Hard and rough?” I moaned like a girl in response. He was calling me by his girlfriend’s name and that shit turned me on. 

Every time he bottomed out I felt the air punch out of my lungs. My own cock was hard and trapped against the mattress, leaking steadily onto the sheets.

“Look at you,” he muttered. “Bent over in lingerie waiting for a straight guy to come use you. Pathetic.”

He slapped my ass hard enough to sting, then did it again on the other side. The sharp heat of it made me clench around him. He cursed under his breath and started fucking me even harder.

“You like that, don’t you? Getting treated like a hole. Getting filled by a guy who has a girlfriend at home. Melissa should see this to learn, how to pleasure his man with her ass!”

I could only moan into the mattress.

Ryan leaned over me, chest against my back, and spoke right against my ear while he kept pounding into me.

“I’m gonna cum in this ass. And tomorrow we’re both gonna sit in that meeting like nothing happened. You understand me?”

“Yes,” I choked out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir…”

He growled and drove into me harder. His rhythm started to fall apart. His breathing turned harsh and uneven. The hand in my hair tightened almost painfully.

“Fuck! take it! Just fucking take it faggot!”

He buried himself as deep as he could and came with a low, guttural sound, cock pulsing hard as he flooded my hole with thick, hot ropes of cum. I felt every spurt. The heat of it. 

He stayed there for a few seconds afterward, breathing hard against the back of my neck. Then he pulled out slowly. I felt his cum immediately begin to run down my thighs.

Ryan stood up, tucked himself back into his pants, and fixed his shirt like he hadn’t just fucked his gay coworker into the mattress. He picked up the plastic cup from the dresser, took a long drink of the remaining whisky, and looked down at me still on all fours with my lingerie ruined and his cum leaking out of me.

“Don’t make this shit weird tomorrow during work.” he said, voice flat again.

He walked to the door, unlocked it, and paused with his hand on the handle.

“Same time tomorrow night,” he added without looking back. “Leave the door unlocked. And get a blonde wig, I want you to pretend you’re Melissa, I’ll send you some details of what I want.”

Then he left.

I stayed there on the bed for a long time after the door closed, face pressed into the sheets, ass still open and dripping, the words he had said looping in my head.

Since the whore I actually date won’t give me her ass, I’m gonna use the faggot’s instead.

My cock was still hard.

And I already knew I’d be on all fours again tomorrow night, waiting… like I was his girlfriend, Melissa.

All characters are consenting adults (18+). All acts depicted are consensual between the characters.