by Josan
Twisted the cap off the bottle, tossed it towards the
wastebasket at the other side of the room.
Missed.
Picked up the remote, hit the power button and settled
down to an evening of "entertainment".
The scene that appeared on the screen was one that he
watched often these days. A bedroom. In some motel
room.
He checked his watch for both time and date. Yep.
9:45 p.m. And it was definitely Tuesday. The door
should be opening about now.
The door to the motel room opened and a tall man with a
certain bearing entered, tossing the keys onto the
nearest of the two queen-sized beds.
He was humming something under his breath as he went
and pulled down the covers on the other bed. He
shrugged out of his suit jacket, went to the near-by
closet, pulled out a hanger and hung it up. He emptied
his pants pockets onto the top of the dresser, undid
his belt. The sound of a zipper vied with his humming.
He shed the pants, hung those up as well. The shirt
followed, to hang next to the jacket. Toed off his
shoes, took off his socks and placed each one in its
shoe.
Wearing only his white jockeys, the man went into the
bathroom. There was the sound of liquid hitting water
in a constant stream. Then the sound of the shower.
Out of the open bathroom door a cloud of steam invaded
the bedroom.
He had made himself very comfortable: the beer bottle
was at hand, as was a tube of his favourite lube, a box
of tissues.
One hand was still holding the remote as the other
found its way under the t-shirt he was wearing.
The motel door opened and a second man walked in. Even
the sensitive mikes that had picked up the undertoned
humming did not relay any sound. He stood watching the
steam coming out of the bathroom as he slowly
undressed.
He tossed the leather jacket onto the second bed. A
sweater then a t-shirt followed. He stepped out of his
boots, shimmied out of his jeans and shorts, tossed
those on top of his other clothes. He toed off his
socks, left them on the floor. Lastly, he removed his
left arm, placing the prothesis on the bed with greater
care.
Then he disappeared into the steam.
He took a swallow of beer, finishing the bottle. This
was the part he liked the least, knowing that it was
that fucking bastard who was in that motel room.
With one hand, he punished himself by pinching his
nipples to the point of pain. With the other, he
picked up the remote and hit a different number.
It was not easy to make out what was going on behind
the shower curtain. Obviously the first man had voiced
no objections to the presence of the second. Oh, there
were sounds, just not sounds of protest.
The light from the ceiling managed to cast enough light
behind the curtain so that shadowy figures could be
distinguished—if one tried hard enough and had a
sufficiently graphic imagination.
The mikes picked up the grunts, the groans, the
muttered "Fuck me!" and the encouragements "Yeah, like
that!"
The undeniable sounds of first one male voice grunting
its completion were followed soon after by a second.
The sound of falling water ceased. The shower curtain
parted, releasing a last puff of steam. The room
cleared just in time for the cameras to show the fine
view of two prime pieces of ass leaving the room.
He was still playing with his nipples, stroking his
chest, arousing himself so had to pull one hand out
from under his shirt to grab the remote and change
channels again. He pulled the t-shirt up over his head
and flipped it towards his desk.
He didn't remove his eyes from the TV screen.
The men were kissing.
The ceiling cam gave a good view of the work their
tongues were doing in each other's mouths. There
wasn't much difference in height between the two of
them. Which meant every thing was within easy reach.
Asses were at the right height to grab, groins to rub
against.
When they separated, it was to allow their mouths to
roam over each other's bodies, sucking up stray drops
of water, nipping at skin, savouring the flavour of
each other.
With a muttered curse, he changed channels again,
played along his stomach with the tips of his nails,
the pads of his finger tips.
The one-armed man pushed the first down onto the
cleared bed so that he lay on his back. Then he
dropped to his knees on the floor to settle between the
man's legs. There was the beginning of an erection
waiting for his attentions. He bent, took the man's
cock into his mouth, sucked him hard.
The man on the bed groaned, his hips jerking.
The man sucking cock released it enough to look up at
the man who now protested the loss of that mouth.
"Jesus Christ! Get on with it!"
The one-armed man's smile was not kind, but his head
dropped and the man on the bed threw his head back, his
hips bucking in reaction to the blow job he was
getting.
His hand slipped under the waistband of his sweatpants.
His own hips rose to push his filling cock hard against
the callused palm rubbing against it.
His hand kept rhythm with the head bobbing up and down
on the screen.
The man on the bed grabbed hold of the head between his
legs, held it fixed in place as he raised his hips,
held them and, with a hoarse shout, came in the man's
mouth.
The cock sucker kept up the pressure on the man's cock
until, with a loud sigh, he released the grip he had on
the one-armed man's head. When the man lifted his
head, the camera caught the creamy whiteness that
slicked his lips.
As the man on the bed recovered, the other stood, hand
on his own cock, jerking it to full erection. He
turned around and came back into camera range holding a
couple of foiled packets which he dropped onto the
chest of the sated man.
That one raised himself up onto his elbows, opened both
foils. Shifting his weight to one side, he reached
over and rolled the condom on the man's bludgeoning
cock. Then, from the second packet, he rubbed lube
over the latex, teasing the covered flesh, and then
onto the two fingers the man held out.
At a gesture from the one-armed man, the man pulled
down a couple of the pillows, slipped them under his
hips. He scooted closer to the edge of the bed, and
with practised ease, slung his legs over the standing
man's shoulders.
He gave a hiss of pleasure when the lubed fingers
disappeared under his raised hips.
He reached for the tube he had placed within reach.
He spread some lube on his palm and replaced it on his
throbbing cock, giving it a couple of slippery strokes.
On the screen he watched as the one-armed man directed
his cock deep within the man lying open to him on the
bed.
From the pillow under his head, he pulled out a large
plastic cock, quickly passed his slicked hand along its
length. He raised his hips, tugged down the sweats
with one hand as he positioned the rigid tool at his
anus.
With practised ease, he slipped it in.
The one-armed man was pumping into the prone man's ass,
his hips grinding away.
His breath had hoarsened, gasping in countermeasure to
the other's mantra of "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."
He stilled, head thrown back, face feral as his shot
his cum deep within the man's ass. The only sound he
made was a deep animal grunt that he tried to catch
within his throat.
The man on the bed waited for some sign only he could
see, pulled himself off and back.
The one-armed man sighed, turned and let himself fall
backwards onto the bed, next to the man.
Chanting, almost screaming "Ass, cock, ass, cock...",
he twisted the plastic cock in one hand as he jerked
himself off with the other.
He came with a loud shout, jism streaking his body.
The neighbour upstairs pounded on the floor.
As usual, he ignored the sound of the broom handle
hitting the floor, the barely audible rumblings of the
curses.
He closed his eyes and listened to his heart beat.
The first man came off the bed, removed the condom off
the other man, went into the bathroom and took a very
quick shower. Within a couple of minutes he was back
out again and getting dressed.
The one-armed man watched him through heavy lidded
eyes. His one hand was slowly caressing his body.
At the door, before leaving, the man asked over his
shoulder, "Next week?"
The one-armed man lazily answered, "Same time, same
place."
He waited until the door closed to stare up into the
ceiling cam.
"Same channel."
e changed into a pair of old sweats, grabbed a beer
and made himself comfortable on his couch.
