I'm discreet--never met anyone in person, just played online with toys when I travel. I make a ritual of it: taking requests for gear and using a cheap smartphone I use for Snap, Skype, whatever. Lately, I've been downloading Grindr on it, scoping out who's local.
Tonight, I'm in my hotel room, naked on the bed, gear spread around me. I'm chatting on Grindr with a couple who, turns out, are in the same hotel, just a few floors away. They're scheming to get me down there, but I'm not budging.
"Let's play Truth or Dare," they type.
"Intrigued," I reply. "Okay. Dare."
"Cage up your cock."
I grab the base of my chastity cage, slip my balls through, then my flaccid cock. Fitting the cage over it, I press it snug and lock it--pinching a bit of skin, but I manage. I send a quick video.
"Good boy," they reply. "Truth."
"Have you two ever spit-roasted a guy?" I ask.
"Yeah, a few times," they say. "It's fun. Last time was a couple weeks back."
"Cool. Truth."
"You really never met up?" they ask. "All that gear for a virgin?"
"Nope, just toy exploration," I type. "Not that I haven't thought about it ;)"
"Ah, got it. Dare."
"Send a pic of both your cocks--hard--right now."
Minutes later, the photo lands. They're massive--8.5" like me. One's uncut, the other cut. My cock strains in its cage.
"Yummm" I type. "Dare,"
"Put your tail plug in."
I lube it with fake cum, ease it into my hole. My slick hands fumble the phone, but I snap a pic of the tail and send it.
We trade dares back and forth. Soon, I'm in my jockstrap, tail plug in, cock caged, dressed over it all. They dare me to bag my gear and walk outside--send proof. I do it, wandering for 30 minutes before heading back.
"Dare," I type, stepping out of the elevator toward my room.
"We're in 1294," they reply. "Snap our door. Send it."
My heart kicks into overdrive. This is too real.
"Mmm," I send, stalling.
"Do it. Now."
I'm steps from my door but freeze. Something pulls me back. I turn, hit the elevator button. My hands shake as it dings open. Two others step in with me. I press 12, drop my phone, scramble to grab it. My pulse is a drumline.
15th floor--someone exits. 12th floor--I step out, see the sign pointing right to 1294. My steps slow. At 1292, I dig out my pup hood, glance around, slip it on, and pull my hoodie over it for cover. I creep to 1294.
Phone out, camera app loading, I hear a shuffle. The door flies open. Hands yank me inside, slam it shut. In seconds, I'm stripped to my jock, bag dumped, shoved to my knees.
A naked guy stands over me, uncut cock hard and close. "I'm Truth," he says, voice steady. He nods to the bed. "That's Dare. You're Boy."
Dare's cut, lounging, smirking at me.
"Want out? Door's there," Truth says. "Want in? Say yes--or nod."
I nod, shaky but sure.
Truth tugs the mouth flap off my hood. "Smart move."
I open wide, inviting him. He slides the head in. My lips close around it--my first taste of a man, warm and alive.
"Mmm," he hums. "Lick it. Slow."
I flick my tongue over the frenulum, then the head, savoring it.
"Good boy," Truth says, low and approving.
"Keep it up, and we'll spit-roast you," Dare calls, rolling off the bed.
"Suck it," Truth coaches. "Ease it down--steady."
I grip his base, jerking as I take more in, inch by inch. At three-quarters, I stall. His hand cups my hood.
"Breathe deep," he says. "Open your throat."
He pushes. Pop--past the barrier. I'm balls-deep, nose in his pubes.
