Room Service - A Gay Erotic Story: Check in and check out the hot hairy hunks at the horniest hotel in town!

By Kris Andersson

When Joe inherits a hotel in his uncle's will, everybody thinks he's crazy to take it on. But past experience tells Joe that behind every door at the Du Maurier there's an erotic adventure waiting to be explored and enjoyed and he's more than happy to check in and check out the hot hairy hunks at the horniest hotel in town.

• Language: English
• Publisher: House of Erotica
• Release date: Apr 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781782347958

Book preview

1988.

Chapter One - Checking In

I PLACED my suitcase down on the pavement and looked up at my legacy, the gift I had never expected to receive.

Of course everybody said I was stupid to even think about keeping the hotel Uncle Bill had left to me in his will but as I stood and looked at the driveway ahead of me and the handsome Victorian building that welcomed me, I felt sure I had made the right decision.

Okay, I knew that the old guy had claimed to have trouble making a go of things in recent years but that didn’t mean I couldn’t turn things around and tempt guests back into those ornate rooms.

But I knew deep down that I had another more personal reason I didn’t want to see the developers move in and the Du Maurier come crashing down.

I’d actually spent a summer working here when I was young, perhaps around 18, and even now, as I looked at the challenge that stared back at me, I couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Jack, smooth skinned, blonde haired and blessed with the most responsive nipples a lover could wish to pleasure - not to mention a cock that for me, in my youthful horniness, could have registered as the eighth wonder of the world.

Uncle Bill had suggested that I might spend the summer at the Du Maurier after my exams - the pay was poor but there would be free food and accommodation and the tips could be generous for a young lad, he pointed out, who was keen to oblige.

To this day I wonder if the old man actually knew what sort of advice he was giving his 18-year-old nephew but it didn’t take me long to realise that middle aged businessmen liked nothing better than to have to emerge from the shower, a towel round their waist, droplets of water dripping from their chest hair, to answer the door to Room Service.

They’d smile and chat while I quickly set out dinner for one, always remembering to grin at their jokes and not look too interested in the damp patches of dark pubic hair that became increasingly exposed as their towels ‘accidentally’ slipped down towards their groins.

There was the one occasion when the towel fell away altogether and the man simply stood there smiling, waiting to see how I would react.

I responded like any decent 18-year-old would, of course, reaching down and handing him his towel.

Thanks kid, he said, sounding vaguely disappointed and not realizing that I felt disappointed too - but this was days before Jack and the start of my education and liberation.

Here, the stranger added, reaching for a wallet that was on the bedside table. A tip. You’re a good kid.

I took the £10 note and left - Uncle Bill had been right about the guests’ generosity and perhaps just didn’t know that beneath every solo male traveller’s loose fitting towel was a tool which, like the one I had just left unattended, was primed and ready for action.

Jack, the God-like 25-year-old Uncle Bill employed to look after the pool was the one who initiated me and showed me all I needed to be shown.

It was early evening and I was tidying the changing area when Jack walked in, dressed as ever in tight shorts and an equally snug white polo shirt.

So Joe, how’s your day been? he asked.

Not so bad, plenty of tips and the guy in 37 was particularly generous - gave me twenty quid just for taking his bags up to the room.

You mean the old fella with the permanent hard on? Jack laughed.

I blushed, wishing I could be as cool as him as I replied: I didn’t notice - he was fully dressed in reception...

Yes, sure - but when he came down here he was wearing the tiniest pair of budgie smugglers you ever saw and after a quick dip he was lying on the sun bed for ages, watching me with a boner he couldn’t disguise. I was quite tempted for a while - but then I thought of what I’d rather be doing.

What’s that?

Fucking you of course.

I blushed again and didn’t even attempt to reply, desperately hoping he couldn’t see the stirring in my groin.

He laughed and bent down to pick up a damp towel on the floor but then, when I least expected it, he reached out and grabbed a handful of my semi-erect stiffy that instantly strained and grew.

I thought so, he smiled again. You won’t say it but you’ve been thinking about it for weeks, imagining what it would be like if I stepped out of these shorts, bent you over that bench and took your virginity.

Without even waiting for a reply, he pulled me towards him, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, forcing my lips open with a tongue that then shot into my mouth and encouraged my own to respond.

Struggling only very weakly, I eventually broke away and gasped: I, I...I’ve never...

"No, I know you