"Hotel Bonaventure"
by
"Well, isn't this a coincidence?" The question came out of the blue
for Steven Kirkpatrick, a young businessman with just a little more
arrogance than humility, with an inherent sense of entitlement as he
navigated his way through the world. He was checking in to his hotel
room rather uneventfully as he'd done so many times before. He was
caught off-guard as he felt the presence of two people invade his
personal space on both sides. He glanced nervously around as he saw
the person who posed the question standing dangerously close on his
left side and her companion on his right. It was Theresa and her
boyfriend Carl, a couple he'd met in his hometown of Philly in an
attempt to explore some of his darker sexual fantasies. Darker
meaning he had an odd obsession with Black sexuality, more specifically
he had fantasies of submitting to a sexy Black woman and her lover and
being forced to do whatever they had in mind. They were a couple
that fit that description perfectly with confidence and sensuality
oozing from every pore in their bodies and more than just a little
experience in manipulating and dominating submissive white boys. What
they were doing in Montreal, in the Hotel Bonaventure for that matter,
was beyond him. He glanced around nervously, afraid that people could
read his mind, that they would know his dirty little secrets.
"Hey," he said nervously, "what are you guys doing here?" His
discomfort was more than apparent and his insincerity was transparent.
Carl put his arm around Steven and patted him on the back. "You told
us what a hot city Montreal was and we decided to come check it out for
ourselves. Who would have thought we would end up staying in the same
hotel together? It really is a small world, isn't it?"
Feeling a little more relaxed; Steven smiled and realized that no one
could read his mind, that his secrets were safe. The fact that it wasn't
really a coincidence that Theresa and Carl were there, the fact that
they were there to torment and push his buttons was completely lost on
him. Momentarily, Steven got a quick thrill thinking about how the
three of them had met, of how they had toyed with him and left him
wanting more. It was a rather innocuous meeting, one in which they'd
met for coffee to size each other up. He'd made promises of how he
would do whatever they said, of how he was willing to become some
deliciously depraved slut that would endure all sorts of sexual
torments in order to fulfill his interracial fetish. For Theresa and
Carl however, domination wasn't just a pastime or a fetish, it was a
way of life and they proved to be more powerful adversaries than Steven
had ever imagined. They essentially told him upon meeting him that he
did not meet their criteria for a submissive and they weren't
interested in him. Both pissed off and aroused by their comment,
Steven went home and masturbated thinking of all sorts of situations in
which he would have been made to do things that would make anyone in
polite society cringe.
"Do be a dear and get our bags and bring them up to our room, won't you
Steven? We're in room number 1705." The casual air with which Theresa
issued her command made Steven feel about 2 inches tall but there was
something thrilling about the fact that she was talking to him like a
servant. He felt movement in his pants and the beginning of an
erection as the desk clerk offered to have the bellman bring the bags
up to their room. Carl declined the offer and insisted that Steven
would be more than happy to bring their bags up to their room
personally. They walked off, hand in hand, leaving Steven there, dazed
and confused, and outraged that they would dare to be so arrogant.
Steven hesitated, as he watched the two of them walk away, hand in
hand, tempted to yell out, Take your own fucking bags, but he was
paralyzed by the thought of bringing more attention to himself and the
hypnotic effect that the pair of lovers had over him. His mind was
racing with thoughts of potential outcomes and possible scenarios that
could evolve and his desperation to explore his fantasies was far too
compelling to ignore. He laughed it off to the clerk and he made some
excuse about how they were old friends that always played little jokes
with each other and how he was going to play a little joke on them and
how he wouldn't mind taking their bags. It was a pretty good job of
thinking on his feet considering all the blood was rushing to his cock
and not his brain in anticipation of what might be in store for him.
He stalled for 15 minutes or more trying to figure out if he could go
through it or not. In the end, he made the decision to throw caution
to the wind. Steven was ready for some hot sex and it was do or die
time.
As the elevator rose to the top floor of the hotel, he had second
thoughts. So far, all of his fantasies were just that, in his mind.
He'd never done anything like what he'd dreamt of and he wasn't sure he
could go through with anything. He knocked on the door softly and
waited, wanting to run away and never see them again but frozen to the
spot like a statue. It took more than a minute but Carl opened the
door, wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and it was more than obvious
that he was partially arousal. Steven was staring at his crotch as
Carl cleared his throat and said, "We knew you would show up. Come in."
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The seventeenth floor of the Bonaventure was all suites and Steven
placed their bags by the door and walked behind Carl to the bedroom.
On the bed, naked with her legs spread open, was Theresa, in all of her
glorious beauty. Her caramel colored skin looked soft to the touch and
her pussy was calling to him to put his mouth on it. He looked at Carl
and then at her and awaited instructions. Theresa told him to undress
and sit; sounding a little like she was talking to a puppy rather than
a man. He undressed quickly, anxious to get things started until he
looked up and saw Carl had removed his pajama bottoms and was sporting
an erection larger than anything he'd ever imagined. He kept looking
back and forth between Theresa s gorgeous pussy and Carl s gorgeous
prick. He was captivated by sights and didn't know where to turn.
"Yeah man," Carl said, pretending some sort of connection or
friendship, " isn't her pussy the sweetest thing you've ever seen. She's
gorgeous, isn't she?" All Steven could do was nod and swallow hard,
wanting to taste it, wanting to be swallowed up by its soft, sweet
folds. Theresa cupped her magnificent C cup breasts and called to Carl
to come finish what he had started before Steven interrupted them.
Steven grabbed his cock and started stroking it furiously as he watched
the two lovers engage in erotic foreplay. Carl drove his tongue inside
her and she grabbed his head and held it in place. Steven could smell
sex heavy in the air and hear the moans of ecstasy of the lovers as he
ate her with skill. It was as if they were performing for him but they
were oblivious to him at the same time. She wrapped her long legs
around his head and arched her back as she began groaning loudly. He
wasn't sure if she was about to cum but he knew damn sure that he
couldn't hold back his own load for very long.
"Mmmmm, Carl, I want to see him suck your dick, I want to see him get
it nice and wet so you can fuck me. Make him suck it baby; make him
worship your dick like he's praying at an altar. You know I love when
you use white boys, it gets me so hot." With that, she started fingering
her pussy and playing with her hard, chocolate brown nipples.
Carl walked over to the chair where Steven was sitting, stroking his
dick. It was only inches from his face and his mouth was watering. He'd
never been so close to a real cock before and he could feel his own
cock swell even more. He could see all the details: the engorged head
with its piss slit glistening with a drop of pre cum, the thick veins
that ran along the shaft, and the dark ebony flesh that held him
captivated. His ears were ringing and his heart was about to beat out
of his chest. Without notice, Carl grabbed the back of his head and
shoved about four inches of his dick in his mouth in one thrust.
Steven panicked and tried to pull away but Carl was stronger and held
his head firmly in place. Deep inside he craved sucking it. He was
powerless against the need to suck that cock; it was calling him, from
his soul.
Steven shut his eyes, fell to his knees, and sunk into the depravity of
being a white cocksucker for black dick. He could hear the taunts and
teases of Theresa, urging Carl to make him choke on it as he started to
lick and suck that glorious penis. He could feel the force of Carl,
pounding his mouth, fucking his face, sliding deeper and deeper in his
throat. In that moment, he was just like all the sluts he had seen in
porno flicks and he was using every trick in the book he could think of
to get that cum. He needed to taste that delicious sperm from those
black balls. Carl was getting more forceful, causing him to choke and
gag. Steven was moaning on that cock and jerking his own, ready to
shoot. He started sucking harder, licking, and deep throating what he
could.
Without notice, Carl pushed Steven to the floor and stepped back.
"Damn bitch, ease up. The night's just begun." For a second, Steven
was ashamed that he had been so enthusiastic but he loved the
sensation, he craved more. He crawled to the foot of the bed, and
watched as Carl lay back and Theresa climbed on top of his dick that
was wet with his spit. From his vantage point, he could see the lips
of her pussy as they slid down on his ebony dick. Her ass was full and
round and it bounced as she rode him. Carl met her with powerful,
rhythmic thrusts, driving himself inside her, causing her to moan out
again and again. They moved well together, his hands gripping her
body, her long legs tensed and muscular, steadying herself as she took
every inch. Steven was jerking off and breathing hard.
Carl moaned out and in one fluid motion, flipped Theresa over and held
her legs up as he prepared to fuck her senseless. " Here bitch, lick
her pussy juice off my dick, suck it you dirty little whore." He waved
it in front of Steven s face and he dove for it like a sissy faggot.
He tasted the sweet elixir of cunt juices and pre cum as his mouth was
filled with thick, hard, meat. Almost as soon as he started getting
into it again, Carl pushed him away again and placed his dick at
Theresa's wet hole. He pushed it in slowly, inch by inch, stretching
her, filling her. Steven has never seen anything so erotic in his
entire life. "Don't think I'm going to be this gentle when I fuck you.
I"m going to fuck you so hard you scream like the bitch you are."
Apparently, those words were enough to send Theresa over the edge
because she started screaming that she was going to cum. Carl would
plunge deeper and she would beg for more. Steven was stroking in time,
feeling every thrust somewhere deep in his consciousness. Carl moaned
out as he collapsed on top of Theresa, exhausted and drained, emptying
his load deep inside her.
The rest of the night was a blur of intense sexuality and experiences.
Steven's boundaries truly were pushed, his reality altered forever. He
flew home from that trip to Montreal, a different man, with a different
appreciation for life and for Black sexuality.
Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK
- The End -
[Note: this story is protected by international copyright law,
all rights not expressly waived are reserved by its author.]
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