David panted in the dark.
The soft blue glow of the screen shone across his face. A sticky, crystal-clear mess spilled from his knuckles and down his naked thighs without him noticing. He whimpered with need. His hand pumped faster.
A man screamed mutely on the screen in front of him. The close-up showed his every bulging muscle and vein. But it was the man beneath him, the small one on all fours with his arms stretched out, he came first. A puddle sprayed out violently against the sheets between two hairy, quivering legs. Great white globs of mess were emptied out of him. All without a single hand needed to bring him there.
The edge hit David without warning. He let go his hand and bit down on a lip hard. Sweat beaded into his eyes as he teetered on the verge of orgasm. His skin was shaking. His breath left him. Pleasure boiled over him and he melted into the feeling of it.
Too close! He wasn't ready for it to be done.
He doubled over and grabbed the dresser to steady himself. The hotel vanished around him. He held his breath in and willed himself back from the edge, inching his way out from the brink.
Little by little, the racing of his heart slowed. A trickle of sweat slipped down through his T-shirt. The sounds of the hotel and the guests around him crept back in. Honking returned from the streets below.
David gave an uneasy grin and wiped his hand clean on the bedsheets. He took a long drink of water and stripped his shirt off. With a lick of his lips, he started over again.
The light of early morning grew against the edge of the curtains. David's legs went weak, and he moved over to a small table beside the window. He downed the last of his cup and shook his cramping hand loose. A stream of clear pre-cum flowed down his shaft and seeped into the fabric of the chair. It didn't matter now. It was already wet with the sweat of his body. It reeked of sex and need, like every other inch of the room.
David's body trembled. It trembled and wouldn't stop. He sank deeper into the seat, savoring the moment.
It was the last day of his work trip. The last gasp of freedom. The last day before the mask came back on. He intended to make the most of it.
The sun had fully risen by the time the thrill of it faded. The next step was inevitable--all part of the routine.
He logged into the websites one by one, typing out logins and passwords he never dared to write down. Dozens of old messages were waiting for him, though not as many as he hoped. All from previous trips, previous times where the need had grown beyond passively watching. Men he had led along and made plans with, teased with promises he would never fulfill. Played with until David could blow his final, pent-up load. He'd howl and he'd lick up the mess on all fours, a middle finger buried down to the knuckle inside of him. All part of the routine.
And then David would close all of his browser tabs. He'd wipe the place down. He would sterilze it. With a long, hot shower, he'd purge the guilt and shame away from him. He could go back home feeling light as air. The need would be satisfied. For a time.
David updated his location and swung through the usual chat rooms. His profile photo was old. It wasn't terribly impressive. He was medium height, weight, muscle, length... He didn't show his face, but that was better than most of the empty profiles he was competing against. It didn't take long to catch some attention.
"Want to call?" a stranger asked.
He blinked at the message for a moment.
There were rules. Rules that dictated the boundaries of normal, healthy porn. It was what let him explore his pleasure guilt-free.
The rules were that he could look -pictures, video. He could imagine. That was acceptable. It was just mental, after all. It was a base, animal need to be stoked. Images meant to trigger chemicals in the brain and get his cock hard. A trigger to empty his balls. What triggered them, or who, didn't matter. It didn't mean anything beyond the momentary rush. It didn't need labels.
And chatting with others online, that fell under the same fold. It was just another type of porn. They were vague strangers he would use to get himself off. He would send them photos of himself, because he enjoyed that, too. Then they would be left behind, their photos and words forgotten. His promises and confessions vanished as the cum washed down the drain.
They didn't get to know the real him. They saw only the pictures he wanted them to see -never his face. Having a stranger see his hard, leaking cock was just another trigger. His promises to meet them at noon, at the bathroom on the corner, to suck their cock and swallow the load -it was all for his own pleasure. It was all as empty and innocent as porn.
But to actually call, and to hear another man's voice... That was a step too far. That made it real.
His cock bubbled out a warm river of pre-cum just for daring to think about it.
Was it different, though? Why?
What harm would he be doing? They would be a faceless voice. They would exist only for his pleasure, and then they would be gone again. It was porn with the sound on.
But he didn't want the call on his phone record. His eyes trailed over the hotel's phone, sitting idly in its cradle.
Who would ever know?
It was only the sound of moaning and an orgasm. The same as a million videos he had seen before.
"Absolutely," David wrote back.
His feet stretched out along the bed, and he dragged the phone closer, waiting for the number. An area code he didn't recognize appeared on the screen, and he punched it out quickly.
The phone rang twice before it answered.
A low, husky voice met him on the other line. "Is your cock out?"
David grunted and moved the phone down to his hips. The wet sound of his hand slapping against flesh rang out.
He brought the phone back up and spoke in a half-whisper into it. "How about you?"
"I'm going to come over there and fuck you in the ass," the stranger said. "I'm going to bend you over the bed and fuck that tight little asshole of yours open. You been with a man before?"
David swallowed hard and willed his hand to stop. The edge was already there again.
The other man didn't wait for him to respond. "Maybe you got a wife. I don't care. She can watch. I'll fuck her afterward. You're going to lick my cum out of her little bald cunt.
"I'm gonna... gonna- fuck!" the man howled. "Fuck!" he shouted out again.
There was the sound of motion. The line went dead. David blinked at the receiver.
For the first time since dawn, his cock wilted slightly against his hand, droplets spilling from the head.
"Wanna phone?" he asked the next man in line.
The conversations all ran about the same. They would fuck him. They would fuck his girlfriend. Or his wife. They didn't care if she existed, they wanted her. To show their dominance over him. They would rape him while she watched. They would dress him up in his wife's panties. They would make him marry their twelve inch cock. He wilted back down again. He was starting to get hungry.
"Hey there," a new message popped up. "Lived here long?"
David wiped his hand clean and looked over the stranger's profile. About his age, about his weight. They lived here in town, like most of the others had. He bent over and typed out a response. "Just visiting. Last day :/"
"Here for work?"
"Yeah. Was here the whole week," David wrote back. He went and looked for snacks in his bag, but found only the last dregs of the week's supplies.
"Did you like it? What was your favorite place in town?"
"I didn't actually see much of it at all. Just the office and room service for me so far."
