Room 401

A different type of hotel story

A hotel is the worst place to be when you’re like me. Well, stadiums, public transport, and hospitals are worse, but hotels are a special kind of hell.

My conference ended earlier than I’d anticipated, but the five hour drive back wasn’t feasible even for my peace of mind.

The lady checking me in was nice, her smile even appears genuine as she takes my credit card for incidentals. I have to grit my teeth and conjure an equally as real smile as her thoughts bombard me.

This one’s super weird. I wonder if she looks at everyone like she wants to eat them.

I narrow my eyes at her, which makes her shudder. There’s no stopping the way my forced smile morphs into a sneer. My dark hair, pale skin, and strange colored eyes always give people this impression that I’m the bad one. I’d tell her that her desire to steal money out of the petty change box makes her the bad person, but then she’d really think I was crazy.

“Thanks.” I barely push the words from my lips, beyond feeling polite with this woman but knowing it was still required of me.

I turn away, not caring for the off-brand bottled water she offers or the snide remarks she makes in her head. The need to get away into the safety of my room outweighs needing a drink. I’ll regret my haste when I need my meds to dampen the voices, but that’s a regret for later.

The elevator chimes and I step on. Just as it starts to close, a conservatively dressed woman appears pulling two suitcases. Typically I would’ve let her wait for the next one, but I catch a stray thought that makes me perk up.

On the bed, on all fours, in five minutes.

Oh fuck.

I press the open button shockingly fast. She enters with a grateful smile, her thoughts growing faster and dirtier as the elevator doors shut with a low snick.

I wonder how long he’ll make me wait Will he plug my ass like last time I hope he uses the tawse on my ass On my breasts

Naughty thoughts tumble from her head like bright electricity that shocks me. I’m blinking away a host of conjured imagery when the ding for the floor sounds. The door opens with a whoosh and she maneuvers her way out and down the bright hallway. I don’t possess otherworldly scent, despite my ability to hear thoughts, but I swear to god I could smell her cunt mixed with the floral scent of her perfume as the door shut behind her.

Not being a bad person should mean I go up to my room, take my meds with a swig of tap water, and go to bed so I have a peaceful night. That’s what I usually did.

What it actually means is I drop my stuff off in my room and take the stairs back down to her floor. My clit is pulsing too hard and my mind is racing too fast to really think about how I’m breaking my “do not actively eavesdrop” rule. I’ll chastise myself later, after I wank myself silly over the borrowed thoughts.

I move slowly down the hallway, listening closely as I pass each door.

These motherfucking kids…

This toilet is totally going to overflow

It smells like dirty panties in here

It’s the moan that tells me I’ve found the right room.

I move beyond the door to a little niche. Her thoughts hit me first. Her mind is churning and unfocused, but I can feel her arousal through the flickering thoughts in her head. I know she’s done exactly what he told her to do, strip naked and wait for him. I know she is so fucking aroused she’s shaking with it. Her breasts hang bare and she wants desperately to be touched. She wants a lot of things.

His thoughts crowd in with hers. His are darker, colored by a need to use her and hurt her and push her right up to her limits.

I start to squirm, my hand finds its way down the front of my trousers. My fingers find my cunt, clit fat and labia slippery wet.

He’s thinking of his dick in her ass and the way she’ll squeal and beg for it. I wanted to beg for it.

Some small part of me thought I should be ashamed for this, but it was overshadowed by the way my fingers slide easily over my clit. I’m so wet I’m not sure I won’t be overheard. Being caught out masturbating in the hall isn’t enough to deter me.

I hear her chanting in her head.

Fuck me

Fuck me

Fuck my ass

Her litany is so loud I’m not sure I’m hearing her speak out loud. His thoughts are something different. He wants to come in her ass and then put that plug in so it all stays inside her. There lurks promises to make her ass a bruised mess or to spank her pussy when he is done and then come all over her quivering lips.

“Fuck me.”

Just the thought of that, of pearly white come clinging to her puffy red lips pushes me right over the edge. I have to cling to the wall as my body trembles and my cunt clenches tight around my fingers. The urge to collapse to my knees and howl my pleasure is so strong I throw a hand over my mouth.

I lean against the wall, composing myself with her soft moans as subtle background noise. My trembly breath is audible in the quiet hall. I want to hold on to the relaxed energy as it blocks out the voices.

My respite doesn’t last long.

He’s thinking about tying her to the bed and fucking her face now, an idea which threatens to rev me back up. Some self-preservation kicks in when a door down the hall opens. Perhaps that’s an orgasm I can have back in my room now that the urgency has worn off.

A little of that guilt creeps up, but I shrug it off as I move back to the stairwell. They won’t know and I got the best orgasm I’ve had in a while out of the deal.

I dry swallow two pills once I make it back to my room. My mind is already turning back to that face fucking I can’t listen in on. I really need to get laid so badly.

One more wank before bed. Something to push out the other voices and help me sleep a little easier.

Masturbation Monday Meme Badge


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  2. Marie Rebelle

    I love this, the way you are actually telling two stories in one – their story and her story. And it’s SO hot!

    Rebel xox

    PS: Sorry for my late comment. I am a bit behind on my reading…

    1. Post
      Cara Thereon

      It’s all good! I totally get being behind on reading. There’s a lot to read. Thank you for your comment

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