Hotel Bonaventure

(Part 1 from 1)

“Well, isn’t this a coincidence?” The question came out of the blue for Steven Kirkpatrick, a young businessman with just a little more arrogance than humility, with an inherent sense of entitlement as he navigated his way through the world. He was checking in to his hotel room rather uneventfully as he’d done so many times before. He was caught off-guard as he felt the presence of two people invade his personal space on both sides. He glanced nervously around as he saw the person who posed the question standing dangerously close on his left side and her companion on his right. It was Theresa and her boyfriend Carl, a couple he’d met in his hometown of Philly in an attempt to explore some of his “darker” sexual fantasies. Darker meaning he had an odd obsession with Black sexuality, more specifically he had fantasies of submitting to a sexy Black woman and her lover and being “forced” to do whatever they had in mind. They were a couple that fit that description perfectly with confidence and sensuality oozing from every pore in their bodies and more than just a little experience in manipulating and dominating submissive whiteboys. What they were doing in Montreal, in the Hotel Bonaventure for that matter, was beyond him. He glanced around nervously, afraid that people could read his mind, that they would know his dirty little secrets. 

“Hey,” he said nervously, “what are you guys doing here?” His discomfort was more than apparent and his insincerity was transparent. 

Carl put his arm around Steven and patted him on the back. “You told us what a hot city Montreal was and we decided to come check it out for ourselves. Who would have thought we would end up staying in the same hotel together? It really is a small world, isn’t it?” 

Feeling a little more relaxed; Steven smiled and realized that no one could read his mind, that his secrets were safe. The fact that it wasn’t really a coincidence that Theresa and Carl were there, the fact that they were there to torment and push his buttons was completely lost on him. Momentarily, Steven got a quick thrill thinking about how the three of them had met, of how they had toyed with him and left him wanting more. It was a rather innocuous meeting, one in which they’d met for coffee to size each other up. He’d made promises of how he would do whatever they said, of how he was willing to become some deliciously depraved slut that would endure all sorts of sexual torments in order to fulfill his interracial fetish. For Theresa and Carl however, domination wasn’t just a pastime or a fetish, it was a way of life and they proved to be more powerful adversaries than Steven had ever imagined. They essentially told him upon meeting him that he did not meet their criteria for a submissive and they weren’t interested in him. Both pissed off and aroused by their comment, Steven went home and masturbated thinking of all sorts of situations in which he would have been made to do things that would make anyone in polite society cringe. 

“Do be a dear and get our bags and bring them up to our room, won’t you Steven? We’re in room number 1705.” The casual air with which Theresa issued her command made Steven feel about 2 inches tall but there was something thrilling about the fact that she was talking to him like a servant. He felt movement in his pants and the beginning of an erection as the desk clerk offered to have the bellman bring the bags up to their room. Carl declined the offer and insisted that Steven would be more than happy to bring their bags up to their room personally. They walked off, hand in hand, leaving Steven there, dazed and confused, and outraged that they would dare to be so arrogant. 

Steven hesitated, as he watched the two of them walk away, hand in hand, tempted to yell out, “Take your own fucking bags,” but he was paralyzed by the thought of bringing more attention to himself and the hypnotic effect that the pair of lovers had over him. His mind was racing with thoughts of potential outcomes and possible scenarios that could evolve and his desperation to explore his fantasies was far too compelling to ignore. He laughed it off to the clerk and he made some excuse about how they were old friends that always played little jokes with each other and how he was going to play a little joke on them and how he wouldn’t mind taking their bags. It was a pretty good job of thinking on his feet considering all the blood was rushing to his cock and not his brain in anticipation of what might be in store for him. He stalled for 15 minutes or more trying to figure out if he could go through it or not. In the end, he made the decision to throw caution to the wind. Steven was ready for some hot sex and it was do or die time. 

As the elevator rose to the top floor of the hotel, he had second thoughts. So far, all of his fantasies were just that, in his mind. He’d never done anything like what he’d dreamt of and he wasn’t sure he could go through with anything. He knocked on the door softly and waited, wanting to run away and never see them again but frozen to the spot like a statue. It took more than a minute but Carl opened the door, wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and it was more than obvious that he was partially arousal. Steven was staring at his crotch as Carl cleared his throat and said, “We knew you would show up. Come in.”

The seventeenth floor of the Bonaventure was all suites and Steven placed their bags by the door and walked behind Carl to the bedroom. On the bed, naked with her legs spread open, was Theresa, in all of her glorious beauty. Her caramel colored skin looked soft to the touch and her pussy was calling to him to put his mouth on it. He looked at Carl and then at her and awaited instructions. Theresa told him to undress and sit; sounding a little like she was talking to a puppy rather than a man. He undressed quickly, anxious to get things started until he looked up and saw Carl had removed his pajama bottoms and was sporting an erection larger than anything he’d ever imagined. He kept looking back and forth between Theresa’s gorgeous pussy and Carl’s gorgeous prick. He was captivated by sights and didn’t know where to turn. 

“Yeah man,” Carl said, pretending some sort of connection or friendship, “isn’t her pussy the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” All Steven could do was nod and swallow hard, wanting to taste it, wanting to be swallowed up by its soft, sweet folds. Theresa cupped her magnificent C cup breasts and called to Carl to come finish what he had started before Steven interrupted them. Steven grabbed his cock and started stroking it furiously as he watched the two lovers engage in erotic foreplay. Carl drove his tongue inside her and she grabbed his head and held it in place. Steven could smell sex heavy in the air and hear the moans of ecstasy of the lovers as he ate her with skill. It was as if they were performing for him but they were oblivious to him at the same time. She wrapped her long legs around his head and arched her back as she began groaning loudly. He wasn’t sure if she was about to cum but he knew damn sure that he couldn’t hold back his own load for very long. 

“Mmmmm, Carl, I want to see him suck your dick, I want to see him get it nice and wet so you can fuck me. Make him suck it baby; make him worship your dick like he’s praying at an altar. You know I love when you use whiteboys, it get me so hot.” With that, she started fingering her pussy and playing with her hard, chocolate brown nipples. 

Carl walked over to the chair where Steven was sitting, stroking his dick. It was only inches from his face and his mouth was watering. He’d never been so close to a real cock before and he could feel his own cock swell even more. He could see all the details: the engorged head with its piss slit glistening with a drop of precum, the thick veins that ran along the shaft, and the dark ebony flesh that held him captivated. His ears were ringing and his heart was about to beat out of his chest. Without notice, Carl grabbed the back of his head and shoved about four inches of his dick in his mouth in one thrust. Steven panicked and tried to pull away but Carl was stronger and held his head firmly in place. Deep inside he craved sucking it. He was powerless against the need to suck that cock; it was calling him, from his soul. 

Steven shut his eyes, fell to his knees, and sunk into the depravity of being a white cocksucker for black dick. He could hear the taunts and teases of Theresa, urging Carl to make him choke on it as he started to lick and suck that glorious penis. He could feel the force of Carl, pounding his mouth, fucking his face, sliding deeper and deeper in his throat. In that moment, he was just like all the sluts he had seen in porno flicks and he was using every trick in the book he could think of to get that cum. He needed to taste that delicious sperm from those black balls. Carl was getting more forceful, causing him to choke and gag. Steven was moaning on that cock and jerking his own, ready to shoot. He started sucking harder, licking, and deep throating what he could. 

Without notice, Carl pushed Steven to the floor and stepped back. “Damn bitch, ease up. The night’s just begun.” For a second, Steven was ashamed that he had been so enthusiastic but he loved the sensation, he craved more. He crawled to the foot of the bed, and watched as Carl lay back and Theresa climbed on top of his dick that was wet with his spit. From his vantage point, he could see the lips of her pussy as they slid down on his ebony dick. Her ass was full and round and it bounced as she rode him. Carl met her with powerful, rhythmic thrusts, driving himself inside her, causing her to moan out again and again. They moved well together, his hands gripping her body, her long legs tensed and muscular, steadying herself as she took every inch. Steven was jerking off and breathing hard. 

Carl moaned out and in one fluid motion, flipped Theresa over and held her legs up as he prepared to fuck her senseless. “Here bitch, lick her pussy juice off my dick, suck it you dirty little whore.” He waved it in front of Steven’s face and he dove for it like a sissy faggot. He tasted the sweet elixir of cunt juices and precum as his mouth was filled with thick, hard, meat. Almost as soon as he started getting into it again, Carl pushed him away again and placed his dick at Theresa’s wet hole. He pushed it in slowly, inch by inch, stretching her, filling her. Steven has never seen anything so erotic in his entire life. “Don’t think I’m going to be this gentle when I fuck you. I’m going to fuck you so hard you scream like the bitch you are. 

Apparently, those words were enough to send Theresa over the edge because she started screaming that she was going to cum. Carl would plunge deeper and she would beg for more. Steven was stroking in time, feeling every thrust somewhere deep in his consciousness. Carl moaned out as he collapsed on top of Theresa, exhausted and drained, emptying his load deep inside her. 

The rest of the night was a blur of intense sexuality and experiences. Steven’s boundaries truly were pushed, his reality altered forever. He flew home from that trip to Montreal, a different man, with a different appreciation for life and for Black sexuality.

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