Claudia and Michael Pt. 05

Saturday morning.

Claudia woke after a deep sleep -- the sleep of the thoroughly fucked. She was naked. Beside her in the hotel bed, Michael was snoring gently. also naked. The covers were pushed down, revealing his hunky body -- including that amazing penis of his, in all its thick, veiny, morning-wood glory. She smiled to herself; she still had the seed from that penis inside her, after Michael had unloaded while buried deep in her arse last night.

She couldn't help herself: she shifted in the bed to take it into her mouth and began giving him a slow, gentle blowjob. She loved giving him head. She loved having him shove that throbbing monster into her mouth -- or into any other orifice. She loved that penis, and the body to which it was attached.

Pity she couldn't stand the person.

Michael was, to put it bluntly, an obnoxious jerk. A complete arsehole. A dick. A knobhead. Just about any time he opened his mouth to express an opinion, she wanted to beat him to death with a shovel.

But, oh god, could he fuck.

He stirred beneath her, as she caressed his testicles and slowly moved her head down his shaft again.

"Mmmm," he said sleepily. "That's how I like to start the day."

She paused briefly. "Enjoy it while it lasts," she said. "Your day's about to go downhill pretty drastically." She sucked him a few more times. "You're going to hate me before I'm done with you."

He caressed her hair, smiling. "Nonsense. I already do hate you."

True: the feelings were mutual -- both about each other, and about the sex. That's why they were only together for sex, and only occasionally.

"No," she said, smiling back. "You only think you do But you'll soon learn." She released him and gave his solid shaft a good swat with her hand. "You. Shower. Now. I want you fresh before we get started on your punishment for last night."

She smacked him on his sculpted arse for good measure as he climbed out of bed and then, while Michael cleaned himself up, she dressed in last night's outfit. The tight white shirt over the plain white bra. The slightly-too-short pleated skirt that didn't quite cover her butt. The plain and simple M&S undies. "Girl next door," as Michael had requested. Or "jailbait," if you were feeling uncharitable. And Claudia wasn't giving Michael any charity today. Nope. Not after the torment he'd inflicted. Even though he had given her the fuck of her life at the end of it -- technically while she was still wearing this outfit.

While she dressed, she took stock of what Michael had provided, and considered her options. There was the butt plug and c-shaped vibrator he'd instructed her to wear all evening -- even in public, even with her work colleagues. There was the anal dildo and the heavy-duty wand he'd used on her once she was in his room. All fresh and clean again. And there were the accessories: wrist, ankle and thigh cuffs, a collar, and a ball-gag. There was even a vibrator, which she didn't recall from last night.

Well. It wasn't what she'd planned, but she could work with it.

***

Cameron woke in the middle of the night with a pounding head, a full bladder, and someone snoring gently nearby. There was a powerful moment of disorientation before he remembered that he wasn't in his room at home in his mum's house, but in a hotel room in London, and that the snoring was coming from his cousin Gregor in the adjacent bed.

He fumbled for his phone and, by the wan glow from its screen, he found the door to the bathroom. He was still really drunk, and had to sit down on the toilet before he fell over. Once enthroned, he look the longest piss of his life while the room swam. When he could move again, he tore the polythene wrapping off one of the plastic cups on the sink surround, and downed a half-dozen cups of water.

He made it back to the bed and collapsed in it, surrendering gratefully to unconsciousness.

***

Michael emerged from the bathroom like an Adonis. Clean and fresh and beautiful and yummy. Much as Claudia wanted to jump him right then, she restrained herself mentally, and got down to restraining him physically.

"Collar and wrist cuffs," she told him, "then on the bed on your back, head on the pillows."

Michael smiled lazily, looking at her lecherously as he buckled on the leather restraints. "You look really hot like that," he said.

"Did I give you permission to speak? I'll add that infraction to your tally."

Once he was in position, she set to work with the remaining cuffs. What she really wanted to do was get him spread-eagled on the bed, but since he'd inexplicably failed to provide suitable straps, chains or rope, she made do. The hotel room, like so many others, was sadly lacking in hard points. The bed was a divan model, the "headboard" some padded panel glued to the wall. Even the sole chair was a single fabric-covered curved thing all in one piece, without a single point anything could be fastened or attached to or looped over.

But there were bedside lights.

The wrist cuffs were on Michael's wrists. The ankle cuffs went around the light fittings, either side of the headboard. She unrolled each thigh cuff and, with the clips attached to the ankle cuffs, the unrolled cuffs made strips of leather just long enough that the wrist cuffs could be clipped to the buckles of the thigh cuffs.

"Make sure you don't struggle too much," she told him, "or you might be explaining the damage to the Finance Department after the hotel staff bill you." And if there's one thing you don't want to do in an accountancy firm, it's piss off the Finance Department over your expenses.

The ball-gag was next. She fitted it somewhat loosely, so that it was in place but she could pull it tighter quickly.

Pity Michael hadn't seen fit to use a blindfold on her last night. She'd have to improvise.

Michael was too vain about his appearance to have casually dumped his clothes on the floor last night; as expected, she found everything hanging neatly in the wardrobe. Claudia pulled on the silk tie, letting it slide slowly off the hanger with a soft hiss.

She knelt on the bed beside him, and attempted to wrap it around his head as a makeshift blindfold. Hmm. Not good enough. She could see that it didn't sufficiently obscure his vision. She'd have to get more creative. She stood, hands on hips, the tie dangling from her fingers, feeling somewhat annoyed as she looked around the room.

A snort from Michael caught her attention; when she glanced down, she could see from his eyes that he was laughing at her.

"Oh, that's another strike against you, worm," she told him. Then inspiration struck.

Hitching up her skirt, she pulled down her briefs again, and folded them. The simple, floral-print briefs she'd been wearing last night. The ones that had been around her thighs as he fucked her into the middle of next week. The ones that had been pulled up and in place and getting wetter and wetter as the vibrators continued to tease her arse and clitoris all evening. The ones she'd been wearing as she orgasmed, four separate times.

With them folded suitably, she placed them over his eyes and then used the tie to secure them in place.

"That looks better," she told him, "but let's test it." She dropped the butt plug and lube onto the bed, and then swung a knee over his head so that she could sit on his face, sixty-nine style. She popped the ball-gag out and settled into position before he could say something annoying and patronising.

Michael knew what was expected, and went to work.

Oh god, that's good.

As long as he wasn't actually speaking, Michael knew just what to do with his tongue. And while he serviced her, she leaned forward to run her tongue over his rock-solid penis. Not a full blowjob. Just enough to keep him worked up. While she did that, she lubed up the plug and worked it in and out of his butt until it popped all the way in.

That job done, she settled down to enjoy her first orgasm of the day.

***

When Cameron next awoke, it was morning, and he had a raging hard-on. He still felt a bit fragile, but he at least knew where he was, and why: Gregor had arranged for him and a few mates from the local pool team to have a bit of a blow-out: the eighteenth birthday / going-away-to-uni party Cameron had missed out on, because of his dad's illness and passing.

And, so far, it had surpassed expectations; it had surpassed Cameron's, anyway, since in the space of an hour last night his personal Purity Test score had improved by several points. His hand strayed under the cover to stroke himself as he remembered the things he'd experienced last night for the first time in his life and, after only a few moments of gentle fondling, Cameron knew that he needed to finish himself off.

He slid out from under the covers, realised belatedly that he was naked, and then saw the kilt and the rest of his outfit, dumped on the floor. He had no recollection of getting undressed -- but then, he had been quite drunk by the end of the night. Stiff willy in hand, he padded across the room into the bathroom and closed the door as quietly as he could.

Once inside, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, as he stroked his hand up and down his shaft. He remembered Lilith undulating in front of him, pressing her soft flesh against him. He remembered the way her large eyes, exaggerated by her eye liner, had looked up at him as her lips closed around his swollen member. He thought about how she'd pulled him into the comfort of her breasts, so firm yet so soft. His hand moved faster as he remembered the thin fabric of her panties rubbing against his mouth as she ground her sex down onto him. His breath got shorter and shorter as he imagined once again lying there while Lilith and Tina and the rest jerked him to the best climax he'd ever had as he felt that familiar sensation building and--

"Oi!" came Gregor's voice as he banged on the door, "if you're 'avin' a wank in there, don't forget that some of us are bustin' for a piss!'

-- and, then again, he tried not to think about how those hot women had done all those amazing things because he was in a strip club, and his mates had paid them to do it.

He sighed, the moment lost. Andy, he was pretty sure, could jerk himself off in the middle of the street. Cameron was too self-conscious to do it while his cousin was standing on the other side of a thin hotel door.

"Just coming," he said. Though that couldn't be further from the truth.

***

Claudia had only been planning to make Michael bring her off once, but he was too good with his tongue. So she went for a second and, then with regret, climbed off, and inspected the makeshift blindfold. Her writhing and bucking had not dislodged it.

Good enough.

"Right," she said, as she pulled on her boots. "I have some things to pick up from my room. Don't go anywhere."

"You're not just going to leave me like this, are you?"

"Hey, I was planning to pick up my overnight bag first. You were the one who insisted I come straight to your room. So this is your fault, really. Anyway, stop complaining. I'll only be a few minutes. Or a few hours. Whatever."

"Claudia!"

"Oh, stop whining. I wasn't really going to leave you like that." She reached over to put the ball-gag back in place and pulled it tighter, and then tapped the butt plug's control so that it started vibrating inside him.

"There," she told him. "That's better."

And she pulled on her raincoat and left him to it.

***

"Ah dinnae ken why we cannae just go get some fuckin' breakfast," Gregor said, as they waited in the corridor for the lift to arrive.

"Aye, right," said Andy. "I know youse, yez'll all have a massive fry-up. An' I'm telling youse, that's the perfect way to ruin a massage, 'cause yer too greedy to show a little self-restraint, and so yer busting' a gut because yez stuffed yersel'."

Oh great. Now Andy was getting in on the How Scottish Can We Sound competition. Gregor had been doing that all day yesterday.

They watched the lift numbers changing in silence for a moment.

"An' I'm pretty sure you're supposed to get changed at the spa, not go swannin' aboot the place in a wee towel," Gregor continued.

Andy had insisted that they should be clad just in towels from their hotel room for this pre-breakfast massage. Very insistent. "Nae bawbags, mind!" he'd said sternly, levelling a finger at each of them in turn. It would be worth it, he'd said. "Hotels like this, there's nae mingers in the spa. Thez all Scandi lassies, all six foot six, and most o' that is leg. Yez dinnae want any kecks telling them how far to go, if ye get mah drift."

"It's a hotel, not a fuckin' brothel, lad," Gregor had told him but, even so, Cameron was looking forward to being gently mauled by a statuesque young woman. Again. Which was another reason why he was nervous standing in the corridor in just a towel. At least with a kilt the sporran stopped an erection from tenting his attire so visibly.

"I dunno what you're complaining aboot," Donal said, flexing. Muscles rippled everywhere. "I find it quite refreshing. Maybe you just need to lift more."

"Yeah, all right, the Rock," Gregor said, who had muscles to be proud of, too -- just not in the same league as Donal.

And that was another reason why Cameron felt nervous. The tumbling and acrobatics he'd learned as part of his Circus Skills hobby meant he was not unreasonably proud of his physique, but he felt like a stick figure next to the muscle-heads Donal and Rab next to him.

Finally, the lift dinged and they all got in, Cameron last. Andy jammed a finger at the buttons. "Fuck, missed,'" he said, as a random floor button lit, and then he mashed the right one for the spa floor.

Cameron couldn't help but wonder what the massage was going to be like. Andy had made it sound like they'd be getting jerked off by impossibly sexy models, but he knew that Gregor's assertions that that just didn't happen in central London hotel spas were much more plausible. But.... Andy had more experience in these things. And Andy said of course they do! Where d'you think all the posh hookers work? Only, they weren't called "hookers" if you were posh enough.

All of which painted a very exciting picture, making him tent the front of the not-particularly-luxurious hotel towel he had wrapped around his waist, except that...

Except that Cameron already knew he didn't want someone jerking him off because they'd been paid to do it. And....

And.

Well.

Cameron and his mates? They weren't that posh. Nor was this hotel, otherwise they wouldn't be able to afford it.

Cameron had just reached the end of this train of thought when the lift dinged and the doors opened again.

"Bollocks," Andy said, as he gave Cameron a shove, "wrong floor. See ya, Cam!"

Cameron fell forward out of the lift, landing flat on his front. "What the fuck..? Jesus, Andy!" He rolled over on his back, realising he was on the floor in the corridor. He looked back at his mates in the lift. Gregor looked surprised. Donal and Rab were laughing. Andy was grinning like a bastard, waving with one hand and shaking a towel with the other.

A towel..?

"Oh fuck--" Cameron said, struggling to get up as the lift doors closed on Andy's gurning face. By the time he'd gotten to the lift-call button, it was too late.

He was stuck in the hotel corridor, stark-bollock naked. He didn't even have a room key-card, as Gregor had the only one.

In a panic, he looked for cover, first one way -- nothing! -- and the other--

-- and that's when he found there was a woman standing looking at him, an expression of surprise on her face.

***

Claudia made her way along the short identical corridors from Michael's room to hers, which was on the opposite side of the hotel, past the lifts. She felt a thrill similar to the night before, when she'd had the toys buzzing away inside her -- only this time, it was the feel of the air on her bare nether regions. Such a thin piece of fabric, barely gossamer, yet with it absent, she could feel so much. And it was a very short skirt. She wasn't going far, but she still felt daring to be at such risk of flashing strangers. She surprised herself by undoing the raincoat and draping it over her arm as she walked. So risqué!

Remembering the experiences of the night before, she considered different ways to make Michael suffer in return. Preferably by keeping him forever on the edge of orgasm, until he was a dribbling wreck begging for release. She sketched out half a dozen schemes, abandoning each as she thought of something even more diabolical.

Oh, this was going to be good...

Once in her room, she hung up her trench coat, pulled off her boots, and stripped, placing her top, bra and skirt in her suitcase. She took a quick shower, aware of how badly she must reek after how much Michael had made her perspire as he forced her into climax after climax the night before.

She dried herself off, dried her hair, and dressed in the outfit she'd brought for the occasion: suspenders, black stockings, killer heels, thong and a push-up half-cup bra that left her nipples exposed. She prepared herself as quickly as she could, aware of Michael trussed up on his bed -- but there's only so much a lady can speed up her toilette.

Fuck him. The wait will be good for him.

A misting of perfume, and she was ready -- but she decided on one change to her plan. With a wicked thrill, she impulsively peeled her thong back down and dropped it back into a drawer. She wanted to feel that dangerous, wild excitement of secretly being exposed in public. She wrapped herself in her trench coat once more, picked up her bag -- the one with all the important toys and accessories that Michael had inexplicably failed to provide for her -- and let herself out of her room before she could change her mind.

She felt exhilarated by the thrill of knowing she wore almost nothing beneath her coat as she strode as quickly as she could in her towering heels -- and what she did wear was thoroughly indecent. She couldn't wait to see Michael's face as she removed the coat. "Not so much fur coat and no knickers as trench coat and no knickers," she laughed to herself quietly.

And then, as she got about halfway there, one of the lifts ahead of her gave a ding sound, opened its doors, and threw out a long-haired young man with no clothes but a solid boner. He fell flat on the floor. "What the fuck..? Jesus, Andy," he said, sounding annoyed.

Claudia stopped dead, stunned.

He rolled over, glaring at the unseen lift occupants. And then he appeared to realise that he was naked. "Oh fuck--" he said as he scrambled to his feet -- but too slowly. He pressed the call button desperately, but nothing happened. He looked around, panicked. And that's when he saw Claudia.

After a moment of further shock, his hands flew to his groin, to cover up his rapidly-shrinking erection. He looked around again, as if some previously unnoticed cover had revealed itself, and then gave up.

"Help me?" he said, desperately.

***

The woman was tall, well-proportioned, with a narrow, attractive face and a distinctive nose. Her dark hair cascaded around her shoulders. She was wearing a long pale coat, belted at the waist, and black stockings or tights with high-heeled shoes. She was carrying a sports bag in one hand, the other thrust into the pocket of the coat. She looked elegant, confident, capable.

She tilted her head onto one side and looked at Cameron curiously. 'Help you?" she echoed. "How?"

'Well, I, er," Cameron started, then drew a blank.

"Reception's in the lobby on the ground floor, if you're looking for hotel staff," she added.

Cameron still said nothing. He couldn't exactly walk into the lobby -- the lobby full of people, with glass windows onto the street -- like this.

She appeared to reach a decision. "We'll go to my room," she said, turning around. After a couple of steps she stopped and looked back at Cameron, who hadn't moved. "Well, come on!"

He stumbled after her, hands still around his genitals. "Why, exactly?"

She strode purposefully, chin up. "You'll be out of sight, and I can call down to Reception, to get someone to collect you."

"Can I borrow your coat until we get there?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Why not! I'm naked, here!"

She glanced back, looking him up and down. "This a stag night thing?"

"What? No! I'm not getting married. I've never even had a girlfr--" He stopped, abruptly, not keen to reveal that much.

"So what is it, then?"

"It's supposed to be my birthday party," Cameron said. And in a few turns of the corridor, he'd explained his dad's passing, Gregor's plan and Andy's sabotage at the strip club, and the spa story.

"You need to get better friends," the woman told him, as she stopped in front of a room door, and carded it open. "Here we are."

She closed the door behind them, dropped the bag on the bed, and went over to the phone, pressing a couple of buttons. Cameron moved towards the bathroom, and her arm snapped out, pointing at him. "You stay there," she said, firmly.

"I was just going to get a towel."

"I said stay there. Ah, hello," she said, her voice changing as she turned her attention to the person at the other end of the line. "I have a small problem..."

***

Claudia listed to the boy -- whose name turned out to be Cameron as he recited a sorry tale of testosterone poisoning -- as they walked to her room. Jesus. Men! Why did they have to be such arseholes? But Cameron himself didn't seem to be too bad. He looked to be in good shape, too -- a nice face, lithe body with little fat and taut but discrete muscles, and dark hair that fell past his shoulders. And from what she'd seen earlier as it flopped around while he searched for cover, a respectably-sized penis.

A plan began to form.

Michael could wait a bit longer. It would serve him right.

She called Reception as soon as they were in the room, telling Cameron to stay still.

"Ah, hello," she said when a woman answered, "I have a small problem. I ran into a young man in the corridor. It seems his friends have been playing a prank on him, and they've locked him out of his room, without any clothes. I've given him sanctuary in my room. I wonder, could you send someone up to take him back to his room?"

"Oh yes," the woman said, brightly. "We'll have someone along right away!"

"Goodness me," Claudia said, "Thirty minutes!? Will it really take as long as that?"

"Uh, no, ma'am. It'll only be a couple of minutes."

"Well, I suppose if you really can't spare anyone from the desk right now--"

"But we can! I'll come up myself!"

"-- then I suppose I can keep this poor, naked young man safe in my room for half an hour, though I don't know what I shall do with him!"

Claudia could almost hear the penny dropping.

"Ah, right. I see. Well, ma'am. I can make sure that someone will be there in thirty minutes."

"Very good. Will it be yourself?"

There was a laugh. "I suppose it had better be, hadn't it?"

"And your name is?"

"Jasmine, ma'am."

"Very well, Jasmine. I shall see you in thirty minutes. Thank you so much for your assistance."

Claudia hung up, and turned her attention back to the subject of the conversation, who was still standing by the room door, with his hands clasped around his family jewels.

"Well, let's have a look at look at you, then."

***

Cameron's heart sank as he listened to the woman on the phone, but then she hung up, and turned back to him. Surely she'd let him get a towel or something, now? Maybe she had a robe? Maybe now she could loan him her coat?

"Well, let's have a look at look at you, then," she said.

"Sorry?"

She tilted her head this way and that, looking at him critically. "Well?"

"... Well what?"

"I can't see you properly like that. Come over here. And you may as well stop that silliness with your hands. I've already seen it all."

"Sorry?"

"Come here and put your hands behind your back." Her voice, although quiet, was firm.

"Uh..."

"You won't like it if I have to tell you again."

Nervously, Cameron obeyed. He'd gone soft from panic and embarrassment, but now, as he stood in front of this commanding woman who clearly wanted to look at his private parts, he could feel himself getting hard again.

"Hmm," she said, undoing the buckle on the belt of her coat as she stalked around him in a full circle. "Not bad. But I think we can do better."

Back in front of him, she opened up the coat and his eyes widened as he took in the toned, trim and largely naked body underneath. It wasn't so much the bra that showed her nipples, as the fact that she wasn't wearing anything on her lower half at all, besides the suspender belt and stockings.

"There," she said with satisfaction, looking at his now solidly-erect penis. "That's more like I remember from earlier."

She'd seen his boner earlier?

She slipped the belt from the coat then dropped the coat onto the bed. "Turn around."

Cameron obeyed, and then gave a small exclamation of surprise as he felt her tie his wrists behind his back with the belt.

"Oh, stop whingeing", she said absently. "Don't pretend you haven't dreamed about this."

Cameron blinked. "How did you--?"

"You all do," she said. "Turn around," she added, hands on shoulders to make him face her. "Now, I'm stuck with you for a while yet, and you're not out in the corridor getting arrested, so why don't you say 'thank you'?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but she laid a finger over his lips before he could say anything.

"Sssh. Not like that. Kneel down."

He sank to his knees, her hands guiding him, and she pulled his face into her groin. Her scent surrounded him, overwhelming him. It was far stronger than Lilith's had been, the night before. And there was no underwear in the way.

'You know what to do," the goddess standing in front of him said. "Lick."

Cameron had no idea what to do. He'd never been in this situation before. His total experience of sexual intimacy with real-life, in-the-flesh, not-in-porn females was less than twenty-four hours old, and he'd summarised it in under a minute on the way to this room.

He hoped that instinct would see him through, and gave himself to the task.

She was right, that he'd dreamed of this, or of scenarios like it. In those fantasies, she'd be holding his face to her mound, writhing in pleasure, moaning with lust. And, within a minute, he could feel her body shaking beneath him.

She was laughing.

"Wait! Stop! Stop!" she said, as she pushed him away, amused. "You really don't know what to do, do you? Oh, god. I'm so sorry, but that was terrible."

Cameron sank down onto his heels, crushed, dropping his chin to his chest in shame.

"Hey. Hey!" She touched his chin with her index finger, and tilted his head back up. She looked so amazing, with her heels and long, straight stocking-clad legs, bent over at the waist, her face next to his, a gentle smile on it. "It's okay. It's nothing to be ashamed of. it's your first time, and no-one's told you what to do. That's okay. I should have realised, after what you told me earlier. So come on, let's do this again."

She sat on the edge of the bed, her heels on the floor, and lay back. With one hand, she held herself open, and with the other she pointed, and stroked, and tapped, and probed as she talked to him, explaining.

"Now your turn," she said, taking the back of his head and pulling him into her. She held herself open to him, as his wrists were still tied, and she guided him, telling him where she wanted to be licked, and how, and when, her breath getting shorter, and her hips starting to quiver, then spasm more strongly.

"Like that," she said, in the end. "Just like that. Keep doing it like that and don't stop..." Then she stopped speaking altogether, her breath ragged, until it stopped completely. Slowly, silently, her back arched and her fingers tightened in his hair, and her mouth opened and she stayed like that for what seemed like a long time, only the movement of her fingers assuring him that everything was still okay.

And then -- he assumed -- she came.

She let out a long, low, groan, her fingers pulling tighter, her thighs clamping suddenly onto him, and everything in her went taut. Cameron found himself crushed into her, unable to move or breathe. She shuddered, and then suddenly jerked sideways, almost making him fall and making him worry that she was going to accidentally snap his neck like a twig. But, blessedly, the movement had opened things up a little and he could suck in more oxygen. Cautiously, tentatively, he moved his tongue again, and her hips jumped in answer. After a movement, he repeated the action, with the same response. After a couple more repetitions, her entire body went slack, and she let go of his hair.

"Mmm," she said, as he slid back down onto his heels, his tongue and jaw aching. "That was much better." She levered herself up onto her elbows. "When you do get yourself a girlfriend, just do that to her as often as she'll let you, and you'll both be very happy."

She glanced at the bedside clock, then got off the bed. "Up," she told him. "On your feet." She untied her belt from around his wrists but then, to his surprise, re-tied them in front of him. As she did so, she said, "That was a very nice 'thank you' for giving you a safe space to wait in. In fact, you did so well I think you deserve some sort of reward, don't you?"

She led him over to the room door and pushed him back against it. Holding onto his bound wrists, she lifted them up over his head, and hooked them onto the coat hook there. "Keep them there," she whispered to him.

She traced her fingers over his body, and Cameron closed his eyes, shivering in pleasure. He'd been unbelievably turned on by her orgasm. His penis was rock-solid, the hardest he'd ever been in his life, and he hadn't been able to touch it, and now he was desperate to feel something, anything, on it.

She cupped his testicles, making him moan. She squeezed, lightly, and then pulled downwards, a gentle pressure, letting her fingertips catch on his balls, tugging them down and letting them spring up again as her fingers passed over them. He groaned, his breath shuddering.

She grabbed her hand firmly around the base of his shaft, and his kneels buckled; just the bonds around his wrists kept him upright until he reclaimed his footing.

She stroked him, up and down, rolling her palm over the tip and carrying his pre-come with it up and down the length to lubricate him. Her pace started out steady and firm, and then got faster. Cameron knew he couldn't last, and didn't want to -- he was desperate to come. Even though it felt so good, it was getting better and better. Her other hand massaged his balls rhythmically, perfectly; he couldn't have held back even if he wanted to. With a massive groan, he felt his climax erupt within him, and felt himself pump out stream after stream as she kept stroking. Eventually, he subsided and her motion slowed and stopped. He could barely stand, leaning back against the door for support.

He felt a kiss on his cheek.

"Good boy," she said. "Now clean that up.'

***

Claudia retrieved her belt and donned her coat once more while watching Cameron cleaning the hotel carpet with tissues and a wet towel, oblivious to her admiring the arse he had stuck in the air. Ah, well. No time for that. Jasmine was due imminently, and she had another sub waiting.

Cameron had just finished and Claudia had sent him to stand in the corner of the room when there was a knock at the door. Claudia opened it.

"Jasmine?" she said, to the short, pretty, curvy, brown-haired woman standing in the corridor dressed in the hotel's regulation jacket, blouse and mini-skirt. Unlike Claudia's, her shoes had only a hint of heel -- much better for a day on your feet, rather than an evening on your back.

The woman nodded, her eyes already wide. Claudia waved her into the room and closed the door behind her. Stepping past her, Claudia stepped into the room proper and waved at the naked boy standing in the corner, clutching his groin. "Here he is."

Jasmine's eyes popped further. "Omigod! Didn't you give him something to cover him up?"

Claudia affected surprise. "Why on Earth would I do that? He's pleasing to look at. Sweetie," she added, directing her attention to Cameron, "what have I told you about hands? Behind your back, please. Let dear Jasmine get a proper look."

Cameron looked unsure.

So did Jasmine. "Uh..." she said.

"Don't you want to see his penis, dear? It's very nice, I assure you."

Jasmine looked back at Claudia, and then at Cameron. "Well, yes, okay."

"Well, then. Hands, please." Cameron obeyed, revealing a penis that was definitely on the rise once more. "There we are. Lovely." She turned to Jasmine. "If you're in the position to do so, I highly recommend you take advantage. He's quite biddable and eager to please and, I'll be honest," she continued, leaning in as though speaking confidentially though keeping her voice clearly audible to Cameron, "he could do with the practice at oral. He does take direction very well, though. Plus," she finished, "he's young and should have plenty of stamina, and he's just come, so he should be able to last quite a while this time."

Jasmine was speechless for a moment, before dragging her mind back to the topic at hand. "I'll just take one of your towels ma'am. I'll have Housekeeping drop off a replacement."

Claudia watched, amused, as Jasmine got Cameron cover his modesty in one of the bath sheets, still damp as Claudia had only recently showered.

"We'll be off, then," Jasmine said brightly, as though she was trying to keep to a script that no longer had any meaning.

Claudia got the door for her. "Do yourself a favour. You won't be disappointed. And you'll be helping him, too. Just make sure to give him clear instruction.'

Jasmine's face was bright red as she left. So was Cameron's.

Claudia closed the door, gave them a moment to get out of sight, and then claimed her bag and set off for Michael's room once more.

He should be stewed nicely by now.

***

Jasmine was silent for a whole five seconds before whirling on Cameron. "Who is that woman?"

Cameron shrugged. "I have no idea. I met her five minutes before she called you, remember?"

Jasmine glared at him as she set off back towards the lifts. "Sounds like you've had an eventful half-hour!"

"You have no idea."

"She said I should --" She paused. "Wait." She whirled on him again. "Is this a setup? Did Britney set this up?" She whirled looking both ways along the corridor. "Are there cameras? Oh, wait!" She pointed at the black domes mounted on the ceiling every dozen yards. "Of course there are cameras! Oh she thinks this is funny, does she? Just wait, I'll--"

Cameron put his hand on her upper arm. "I don't know Britney is, and yes, this is a setup, but I'm the victim, remember?" He quickly summarised Andy's "hilarious" prank. "Oh god," he added, realising. "I'll be on the cameras. Please tell me you can delete that?" The last thing he needed was for someone to upload it to the Internet.

His evident panic apparently was sufficient to convince Jasmine, and she was quiet and thoughtful the rest of the way to the lifts. After she pressed the call button, she turned to Cameron, took a deep breath, and said, "Tell me everything that happened between you and her. Be brief, but leave nothing out."

Cameron swallowed, closed his eyes, and then begin. "She found me here. She wouldn't lend me her coat to walk back to her room. Turns out that's because it's pretty much all she was wearing. Back in her room, she called you, then said I should say thank-you. She tied my hands and made me go down on her. I've never done that before, and I was awful. She said so. She also told me what to do instead, and that was better. It made her come. Then she gave me a hand-job. Then you arrived."

He opened his eyes. Hers were on him, wide.

"Fuck, that's hot..." she breathed, then came to her senses again, as the lift arrived. She waved her pass at the sensor and selected his floor.

"And you just... did what she told you?"

"Should I not have done that? I... don't really have any experience with women."

"Well, shit," Jasmine said with a half-laugh. "You picked a hell of a place to start."

He followed Jasmine to his -- and Gregor's -- room. She was silent. She opened the door for him, followed him in, and closed the door behind them. She looked around at the state of the room. Two blokes a few pints in and changing into kilts in a hurry had not left it looking its best. Two very drunk blokes just back from a night in a strip club had not improved it. Their kilts were dumped on the floor amid two distinct piles of clothes.

"Oh, wait. I saw you all last night in your kilts, as you went out. You--" She lowered her gaze for a moment. "I thought you all looked very nice. Very sexy." She shook her head. "And you're sharing this room with your cousin?"

He nodded. "Gregor."

"And where is he?"

"Probably getting breakfast, after the massage."

"So he'll be back soon," she said to herself. "So we shouldn't hang around."

"Sorry?"

She looked at up at him again, her face determined. "Drop the towel," she said firmly. "Get on the bed."

***

Jasmine got him onto the bed, on his back. She hitched up her mini-skirt and peeled off her underwear. She clambered up after him. "She told me you needed some practice. So let's see what you can do." She swung her knee over his head, into the sixty-nine position, and lowered herself onto him.

Once more, Cameron was faced with a strange woman's most intimate regions, right in his face. Once more, he felt overwhelmed by the scent of an aroused woman.

"Just do that to her as often as she'll let you, and you'll both be very happy," Claudia had said.

Okay, then.

Cameron did his best to recreate the experience he'd had with Claudia. Jasmine did not make it easy for him, as she moved around a lot more. And more than that, she played with his erection for a moment, distracting him, before she took him into her mouth, and he felt a woman giving him head for the second time. If he had not just sprayed all over Claudia's carpet, he was sure he would have come right then, but he found he could last. Jasmine moved slowly, licking and using her fingers, giving him time to work on her, so he devoted himself to that task. Soon enough, she was bucking on his mouth and he both heard and felt her give a muffled moan around the shaft between her lips. The thought that a girl was orgasming while she was giving him head was enough for him, and he burst into her mouth, bucking in turn.

She kept her lips locked in place until both their orgasms faded, then she rolled off him.

"How long are you in town?" she asked, as she stepped back into her panties.

"Uh, we've got a train from Kings Cross at four."

'Good enough," she said. "You can leave your bags in the concierge. My lunch break's at noon. See me then at Reception. I want to have a proper go on that cock."

"Uh...."

She was tugging her skirt back into place as the door opened. Gregor stood there, surprise on his face.

She gave Cameron a stern look over her shoulder as she moved towards the door, making him feel weak. "Make sure you're wearing that kilt." She gave Gregor a smug, satisfied look and left.

***

Claudia opened Michael's room door with the keycard he'd provided yesterday, and stepped through, closing it behind her. She stepped into the room proper, placing the bag on the counter near the TV. "I hope you've been good, waiting for me," she said as she turned.

Michael was still naked on the bed as she'd left him, his arms reaching up to the lights, gagged, her makeshift blindfold still over his eyes.

But everything else...

His penis was no longer stiff and straining for attention. Instead, it was flaccid, lying in a pool of semen. She might have thought that the butt plug buzzing away in his backside had been sufficient stimulation, causing him a ruined orgasm instead of a long period of frustration -- and she'd be quite happy about that outcome -- except that the butt plug wasn't in his butt. Instead, the toy buzzing away was the vibrator, shoved deep into his arse. The plug was lying on the bed nearby. And so was the wand, which had very definitely been sitting on the counter, along with the vibrator, when she'd left him.

"What the fuck!?"