Lockdown Edition 4: Hotel Orso

Hotel Orso, a short story by Frequent Traveller

I noticed him soon after arriving at the hotel.

It had been a long flight, followed by what felt like an even longer taxi ride, and I was ready for a drink. I checked in with Reception, took my bags up to my room and then set off back down to the lobby to find the bar.

The Hotel Urso was an old building, full of faded grandeur and old-fashioned civility. One of its main features was a sweeping, ornate staircase that curved its way from the top floor to the foyer. I had spent enough time sat down that day and decided that I should stretch my legs rather than take the lift. It turned out to be a very good decision.

He was making his way up the stairs as I was going down. I spotted him as soon as I turned one of the bends that marked a new floor and my breath caught as I realised that our paths would cross. But before that I realised I would have time to study him and take in all the details. It looked as if he was a Doorman, or possibly Security, for the hotel. He was a big man, easily taller than me, and wider too. He had dark hair, worn short and neat, and a well-trimmed beard with just the lightest touch of grey. His dark blue uniform covered a white shirt – but only just. The jacket had to have been tailored for him to stretch across his broad shoulders. It was unbuttoned now, allowing the full sight of his mighty stomach straining the cotton below it, his tie slightly too short for the swell of the gut it laid against. Despite his size, he was taking the stairs easily. His trousers were taut across his thighs and a bulging crotch seemed to push up with every step.

As we drew abreast, he glanced up and nodded to me in the way that any man on the street might. If he had seen me studying him, there was no recognition. I nodded back and, as he passed, took in a faint alluring musk of sweat and sandalwood.

As I continued down to the foyer, I wanted to look back, to see if his ass was as nice as I hoped, to see if he looked back at me, but instead I continued on my way, aware of my cock swelling slightly in my trousers as I thought of him.

I didn’t see him again that night and, although he did cross my mind as I stroked my cock in bed that night, I didn’t expect to see him again. I was only in town for three days and I had a pretty full schedule with work. The chances of our paths crossing again would be slim.

In fact, it wasn’t until my second full day at the Hotel Urso that we did meet again. I’d returned from a long meeting and only had an hour or so before I had to go out again for some boring work social event. I was tired and sweaty and fractious and the last thing I needed was to have my key card fail to unlock my room. So, of course, that’s what happened.

There was an internal phone at the end of the corridor so I used it to call Reception. They assured me someone would come up immediately. In the meantime, I returned to my room and tried again and again to swipe my useless card.

I was so engrossed in this frustrating activity that I completely failed to notice anyone approach me. It was only when a large hand was placed on top of mine that I realised he was there.

The Doorman’s hand was huge in comparison to mine, and there were coarse dark hairs across the back of it and on his thick fingers. Yet the touch with which he took the card from my grasp was surprisingly gentle. I turned and looked at him.

Deep brown eyes looked back and his beard parted to reveal a smile. “Sir,” he said, a slight local accent showing through. “Allow me.”

I stood back to let him get to the door. Now I could once again take in that wonderful musk, rising with the heat from his body and, alongside that, the sheer physicality of him. There was a feeling of power and precision in his every movement. I guessed that as a big, strong man he had learned to move carefully so as not to intimidate or hurt someone accidentally.

He was not intimidating to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I hardly noticed him open my door with his pass key and I only just took in that he wanted me to pick up a new key card from Reception later. I hadn’t been this enamoured since I was a teenager crushing on my bearish History teacher.

He held the door open with one arm and motioned for me to go inside. Part of me was slightly crushed when he didn’t follow me in but instead gave another curt nod and started to leave.

Then, just as I was turning away, he looked back. There was a slightly amused smile on his face, but not a cruel one. Our eyes locked for a second. And then the door closed.

It was my last day in the hotel. My work was done, my bags were packed and I had two hours to kill until my taxi arrived to take me to the airport.

The memory of that last meeting with the Doorman was still strong in my mind. I had not dared reopen the door after it had closed between us – scared that I had imagined that look, possibly scared that I hadn’t – and no matter how many times I had beaten off in the shower to the thought of those strong hands on my body, I couldn’t get him out of my head.

It was ridiculous, I knew that. But it didn’t stop me going down to the foyer for the last few hours that I had in the hotel, to sit in an armchair and pretend to read a newspaper whilst actually, secretly, looking for him.

I had been there for almost an hour before he appeared. He came out of a door by the side of Reception, smiling and joking with someone unseen on the other side of it. He crossed the foyer on his way to the main entrance but as he did his glance fell upon me. There was a slight double take from him, but - fighting every impulse I had to look away embarrassed – I kept his gaze until he looked away.

He continued a bit further across the foyer, but then stopped and made a show of tidying some perfectly neat leaflets. He glanced over to me again, and this time he too held the look. He held it for a beat longer than was necessary and then, his face flushed slightly, moved one hand to his crotch and adjusted himself.

He stood there for a moment. My heart was pounding as I watched him come to a decision. Then, looking straight at me, he walked away from the leaflets and over to the main staircase.

I couldn’t believe it, but I got up to follow him. He didn’t once look back as he set off up the stairs. Up to the First floor, and then the Second. I was a few steps behind him, happy to see that his ass really did seem to be as wonderful as I’d thought it would be.

The Doorman reached the Third floor and turned off from the staircase onto the corridor. I followed a second or two later.

As I came around the corner, I could see him stood further down the corridor, in front of a door. He looked straight at me and swiped his card against the door before going in. Nervously, I approached. It wasn’t a bedroom; it was a store cupboard.

I pushed open the door, my heart now threatening to beat its way out of my chest. The Doorman was standing there, his back against some shelves, facing me. His body seemed to fill the room.

I walked into the cupboard, letting the door close fully behind me. He looked at me and his hands went to his belt buckle. There wasn't a lot of space, but I put a hand out and stopped him. As he watched, I fell to my knees and then undid the belt myself. I pulled his trousers down to his ankles, relishing the heat that came off his crotch and the way his underwear stretched out over an already erect cock. Gently I flicked my tongue out to lick the material of his briefs and then, seeing him shudder pleasantly from the touch, tugged them down to free him. 

His thick cock was rock hard in front of me. My hands explored his large firm ass, stroking down thighs that trembled slightly to the touch. He leaned back slightly to give me better access but to reach his cock I needed his belly to be resting on the top of my head. Feeling some of his weight on top of me was incredibly sexy and my own hard on was exquisitely uncomfortable in my jeans. All the same, I ignored it and let my hands roam under his shirt, discovering more coarse hair on his body and back.

I opened my mouth to encircle his cock, opening wide enough that my lips barely touched him, but my tongue could trace the underside of his dick right back to his balls. I rested there for a moment, teasing him, letting him feel my breath on his cock, then I pulled back, my tongue running over his skin until I got to the head and a big drop of precum. It fell on my tongue and I savoured the sweet taste. 

Only then did I start to suck him. I felt his mighty hands on the back of my head, not pressing but guiding me to the speed that he wanted. As his cock slipped between my lips, I heard him moan softly and I traced the head with my tongue, drawing more precum for me.

Very soon I started to feel his cock swell even more and I knew that he was close. I could tell that he wanted to cum, but instead I pulled my mouth off him and told him to turn around. Despite the cramped conditions, he managed it, leaning forward onto the shelves and pushing his beautiful ass towards me. This is what I wanted. I parted his ass cheeks with both hands and stuck my tongue between them. I heard him gasp and I pushed on. My tongue explored his ass hole, my face buried deep in his hot flesh. He started to push back onto me as my tongue opened him up, going deeper.

Although I couldn't see it, I knew that his hand was going to his cock and I reached round and pulled it away. 

I rimmed him for a few minutes more, licking from his balls to his hole, spreading his legs as far as his trousers would allow to get more of him. I could hear him panting and moaning above me, tasted the sweat running down his back to pool on my tongue. I wanted to eat this ass forever, but eventually I told him to turn around. I went to suck him again but instead he thrust himself into my mouth. His hands now held me in place so that he could fuck my face. I couldn’t fight it. All I was aware of was darkness and heat and his beautiful cock pounding my throat.

And then he came. Hard. Those strong hands pulling my head even further onto him and holding me there, just riding the pleasure of unloading into me. I don’t think he felt he could make a noise so he put everything into filling me up. And I loved it, feeling every drop go down my throat, relishing his cock pulsing in my mouth. Finally, he let go and I briefly gasped for air before immediately falling back onto his cock to lick it clean. He was more sensitive now and I could feel his body shuddering as my tongue worked, but now I was holding on to him, wanting every drop of cum I could get.

Satisfied, I let go of him and fell back against the other wall. My own hard cock was still trapped in my jeans, a slight wet patch now visible against the material. I was exhausted but happy. The Doorman pulled up his trousers and pushed past me to leave the cupboard. He looked back at me briefly and smiled. Then he was gone.

I never saw him again. I left the hotel shortly after, no doubt smelling of sex and looking satisfied. If I had seen him, it probably would have been embarrassing, whereas now he will always be just the perfect cocktail of need and lust.

And besides, I can always go back to Hotel Urso…