"Need to get that?" Tony asked, his smile razor-sharp as the soft vibration buzzed from my pocket, cutting through the worn hallway. We were running out of doors to pass, and with each vibration, he squeezed my clammy hand harder. My heart pounded, knowing we were just steps from his room. My shameful demeanor all but gave way to the fact it was my wife calling. He didn’t have to ask; his smirk fed off the guilt of my silence. Almost against my will, Tony led me closer to an inescapable fate, savoring every second of my hesitation. I was teetering on the edge of a decision I could never take back, and he relished my struggle.
"I'm good," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, weighed down by guilt as I ignored Amy’s call. It felt as if she were right there with us, notified by her younger doppelgänger at the front desk, witnessing the masculine Marine she had married on the brink of a humiliating transformation at the hands of the flamboyant twink leading me down the narrow hallway, someone barely half my size.
The vibration in my pocket stopped just as we arrived at Tony's room at the far end of the hallway, exactly 500 feet from my own room. He released my hand and fished out his phone, held in place by the spandex against his hip. My eyes became fixated on the mushroom pressed against him, still unable to grasp its staggering size, now encircled by what appeared to be a dollop of pre-cum that discolored the rainbow-colored spandex. After a few taps on the Hilton app, the door clicked open. With a loud, exaggerated grunt, he leaned his petite 110-pound frame against the door, pushing it open with noticeable effort.
Standing at the threshold, I was met by the same musty odor that lingered in my own room. Tony stood holding the door open, clearly savoring the moment, watching me grapple with the life-altering decision before me. The missed call from Amy echoed in my thoughts. With one last uncontrollable glance at the spandex straining to contain him, I stepped inside, feeling as if I were being guided by something beyond my control. The door slammed shut behind us but didn’t fully latch, just like in my room, until Tony leaned into it with another soft grunt, finally sealing us in.
"That's a security risk," Tony joked with a giggly lisp, attempting to break the tension as he glanced back at the door after we entered the cramped room. The tight space exaggerated our physical difference, with me towering over him in the narrow foyer. The silence was quickly interrupted by the faint sound of the football game playing on the old TV, an unexpected backdrop for someone like Tony. My eyes wandered to a large duffle bag resting on the bed, its rainbow-patterned fabric boldly displaying "PRIDE" across the side. It matched his flamboyant outfit, a glaring reminder of the strange new reality I had been dragged into.
As we made our way into the main part of the room, my heart raced, fixated on the duffle bag and unable to look away. Dressed in his tank top and bike shorts, Tony slipped past me and vanished into the cramped bathroom. His absence felt deliberate, drawn out to make me stew in my guilt as I was left alone. My attempts to distract myself by focusing on the football game were pulled away by strange noises coming from the bathroom, running water mingled with a snipping sound, only deepening my unease.
Tony emerged from the bathroom with a worn bath towel folded neatly in hand. Without a word, he moved to the foot of the queen-sized bed and fanned it out with practiced precision as if it were routine. Its purpose was immediately unmistakable: to catch the mess he intended to make. The gesture served as a stark reminder that I was nothing more than an emotionless vessel for his pleasure. His grin stayed unwavering as he watched me absorb the scene, clearly excited by my anxiety, indicated by the nearly footlong salami stuffed in his shorts that hadn’t budged since our introduction in the lobby.
My senses were overwhelmed as my eyes flickered between the TV, showcasing the epitome of masculinity, the duffle bag on the bed, and the bulging bike shorts that seemed almost unreal in their size. Despite having exchanged only a few words online and in person, Tony had already begun the process of transforming me into something I had never imagined I’d become. He relished the raw authenticity of a first-timer, an experience that was impossible to fake. The stark contrast between our bodies and notions of masculinity clearly thrilled him, likely surpassing any physical satisfaction I could ever provide him.
Wasting no time, Tony crossed his arms and paused briefly before grabbing the bottom of his tank top. Slowly, he pulled it over his head, revealing his hairless chest and armpits. I stood there, unsure of what to do, my hands instinctively finding refuge in my pockets as he tossed his shirt onto the grimy yellow chair, identical to the one in my room. My gaze shifted between his flat, un-toned chest that had likely never seen the inside of a gym and the Chiefs offense driving down the field on the TV behind him. But soon, my attention was drawn back to the gigantic tube steak straining against the spandex, now even more pronounced with his shirtless body. The shit-eating grin on his face, exposing his brace-laced, snaggled teeth, never wavered as he savored my discomfort.
"You ready?" he asked, his tone shifting to a more serious yet still playful demeanor, an apparent exertion of his dominance.
It had all happened so suddenly: I felt paralyzed, my head nodding up and down slowly as if moved by an invisible force while my eyes remained fixed on his crotch.
“What are you ready for, Steve?” Tony asked, his lisp on my name striking my ears in a way I could never get used to.
My heart raced as I hesitated, caught off guard by Tony's sudden verbal taunting. The man who had been primarily silent up until now spoke with an unexpected arrogance, grinning as he relished my anxiety. He seemed to thrive on extracting the words he sought from a first-timer, understanding that my secret desires had never been verbalized. He constantly pushed me past my comfort zone, second by second, slowly breaking me down and forcing me to confront a decade-long desire that had remained unspoken verbally.
“I want to suck it,” I muttered softly after a brief pause, praying my short answer would check the box of the response he was seeking. Hearing those words in my own voice for the first time shook me to my core.
“Suck what, Steve? Look at me,” he demanded, his sharp lisp cutting through the air, his grin lingering just out of my line of sight. Despite my eight-inch height advantage and being twice his weight, Tony dismissed my size and military background, ignoring the evidence of my service displayed on my shirt. He wielded undeniable dominance over me. His unyielding smirk and the commanding presence of his shorts pushed me far beyond my comfort zone. I struggled to glance at his face, finding it impossible to maintain focus as I battled my embarrassment. Instead, I remained fixated on the impressive bulge, acutely aware that my desperation would only intensify until I reached climax.
I hesitated, my eyes reluctantly shifting from his crotch back to his face, his smile and awkwardly unattractive features stark reminders of the unpleasant man behind the enormous cock that was about to change my life. Just a few feet away, Tony closed the distance, now standing directly before me. His hands rested on my shoulders, arms awkwardly angled due to our height difference, exposing his hairless armpits. His smirk radiated the confidence of someone who had broken men far more masculine than me. With gentle pressure, he guided me down, and I sank to my knees on the filthy, musty carpet. From this new vantage point, my bird's-eye view of his greasy man bun suddenly transformed into an imposing close-up of the rainbow-wrapped bulge in his shorts, a sobering perspective on how massive Tony really was.
“What do you want to do, Steve?” Tony asked again, his tone more stern and his lisp more pronounced from his dominant, elevated position.
“I want to suck your cock,” I asserted, my voice steady and filled with an unexpected intensity that mirrored his. My eyes were glued to the spandex-wrapped outline of his nearly footlong cock pressing against his body. The sight was mesmerizing, and as the words tumbled from my lips, they came out with an authentic desperation. I was no longer in control of myself, entirely under his spell.
"Why didn’t you just say so?" Tony teased with a playful giggle, stepping back slightly. He grasped the sides of his rainbow-painted spandex and began to lower them; his eyes locked on me as he reveled in my desperation. He paused at his pelvis to reveal his shaved pubic area, drawing out the moment for maximum effect. Then, with deliberate slowness, he pulled the spandex down further, causing his kielbasa-like cock to spring free from its spandex cage, just an inch from slapping me across the face, causing me to gasp in surprise.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, worshipful praise escaping me against my will as I found myself staring down the barrel of Tony’s pre-cum coated mushroom. It was massive, far more significant than I had ever imagined, and obviously, the closest I had ever been to another man’s cock outside a public urinal. Glancing up, I saw his bird chest and crooked smile looming above me, exaggerated from this angle, while the football game flickered on the TV behind him, a cruel reminder of the life I was on the verge of leaving behind. I struggled to contain ten years of pent-up curiosity, clinging desperately to the fading hope that this might still be a dream I could wake from.
Continuing to peel off the spandex slowly, Tony savored my involuntary reaction to the sight of his colossal cock. As the fabric slid down his legs, it seemed to take a deep breath, relieved of its impossible duty. His massive testicles, each the size of a jumbo Grade-A egg, hung in a flawless, firm sack, perfectly engineered to support their weight. The spandex lingered just above his knees, held in place by the tension of his spread legs.
Shame and embarrassment washed over me as thoughts of my pregnant wife and the judgment of my Marine buddies flashed through my mind. I could almost hear their scornful comments, imagining how they would mock their former squad leader, who had led them into battle but was now on his knees in a dingy hotel room, begging for the gigantic cock of a man-bunned twink we would have bullied in high school. Tony stood above me, hands on his hips, exuding an air of arrogance that made it impossible to ignore the surreal reality of the moment. He reveled in my discomfort, forcing me to grasp the absurdity of my situation.
My life flashed before my eyes as I reached a point of no return, a threshold from which there was no turning back. The result of a decade-long fantasy was suddenly in front of me. I found it impossible to resist any longer, reduced to a mere shell of the man I had been just an hour ago. Leaning in, my mouth opened against my will, struggling to maintain control. Drool pooled, a physical betrayal of my efforts to hold back, as the scent of another man’s pre-cum invaded my senses for the first time. In a final, desperate attempt to halt myself, I approached Tony. My jaw extended like an anaconda preparing to devour its prey, coming mere centimeters from his juicy tip, coated in the same pre-cum that saturated the side of his shorts. Suddenly, he stepped back, bumping into the dresser and jostling the television. It was a taunting move that prolonged my shameful destiny and deepened the embarrassment that consumed me.
"Not so fast," he taunted, smirking down at me. I froze, my mouth still wide open, my anticipation shattered. Before I could even react, the massive cock I was about to devour disappeared back into the snug confines of his bike shorts. The spandex tightened around him once again; the bulging shaft quickly pressed firmly against his hip with deliberate precision. I glanced up, desperate to understand the sudden shift, but his grin only widened, leaving me bewildered by the abrupt change in direction.
"Are you ready to earn it?" Tony taunted, hands on his hips, standing tall and proudly displaying himself in his spandex. His eyes never wavered from mine, watching me squirm. I nodded eagerly before he even finished, my mind still spinning from how close I’d come to crossing the threshold of bisexuality.
A mocking grin spread across his face, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve seen that look before. You’ll do anything for it, won’t you?” he taunted, stepping closer and relishing his power over me. I started to give a desperate nod, my heart racing as my gaze locked back onto his crotch, but he interrupted me, demanding, “I want to hear you say it.” His smirk deepened, savoring my submission.
“I’ll do anything for it, Tony!” I pleaded, drool pooling at the corners of my mouth as I fixated on his massive bulge. A desperation I never knew existed within me surged to the surface. I felt pathetic.
"I know you will," he laughed, grinning as he casually walked past me, his indifference making me feel invisible on my knees. With Tony momentarily out of sight, I glanced at the TV, desperate for a distraction in the game’s score, grasping at whatever was left of my sense of manhood. But when I turned back to face reality, the sight before me nearly made me pass out.
Tony suddenly dropped into a doggy-style position at the edge of the bed, atop the towel he had spread earlier. His bike shorts, now with a slit running from the waistband to the hem, fully exposed the length of his ass crack. The precise cut explained the snipping sound I’d heard coming from the bathroom, revealing the deep groove of his buttocks while leaving his enormous balls snugly encased in the spandex. The rainbow-striped fabric clung tightly to his slender thighs, highlighting the vivid colors against his pale skin. From my kneeling position, his cock was hidden from view, but the sight of his exposed ass and massive balls was overwhelming. Despite my instinct to look away at the football game on the TV, I found myself helplessly drawn back to the startling reality before me.
“Earn it,” Tony taunted, his lisp-laced command still firm even as he faced away from me, competing with the TV behind me. I sat frozen on my knees, barely able to move, as if feigning ignorance would somehow delay the inevitable despite knowing precisely what was expected of me. My mind raced with confusion for what felt like an eternity while my gaze remained locked on Tony. I shamefully traced the exposed crack of his ass from top to bottom, my eyes eventually coming to a rest on his massive testicles, each snugly enveloped in its own spandex shell. My fixation shattered when Tony turned his head to the side, twisting as much as he could from his doggy-style position. His glasses caught the light from the TV as he flashed another taunting grin, amplifying the surreal nature of the moment.
“It’s not going to eat itself, Steve,” he commanded, his lisp amplifying the shock of his words. A sexual act that had never once crossed my mind in a decade of fantasizing about men now stood front and center. Paralyzed on my knees, I gasped for breath, struggling to process Tony’s demand. My gaze locked onto the butt cheeks I had been ordered to stick my tongue between. Despite his petite stature, Tony exuded dominance with ruthless precision. His command struck me like a sledgehammer, carrying the unspoken threat that I might lose the ultimate fantasy of experiencing his eleven-inch salami if I hesitated. I was entirely at his mercy.
After experiencing him up close, Tony knew the look of a man on the brink of surrender, willing to do anything to have him. It was part of his plan all along. I wanted to refuse, to turn and run, but my body wouldn’t obey. Each attempt to resist only drew me closer, inching forward on my knees across the grimy carpet, my shame overtaken by lust. Now just a foot away, I was fixated on his bubble-shaped ass, tightly encased in spandex, ready to be worshipped. This wasn’t merely a humiliating demand; it felt like an audition, a test to prove my worth for what lay ahead if Tony deemed me deserving. The reality of what I was about to do clashed violently with my instinct to escape, yet I couldn’t pull back, irresistibly drawn toward an act I struggled to comprehend.
I hesitated, feeling utterly shattered. My gaze was fixated on the slit in the spandex, meticulously cut to expose his hairless ass crack. His asshole was barely visible between his meaty cheeks, partially obscured by his tightly pressed legs. The weight of the situation bore down on me, my life flashing before my eyes as I confronted an embarrassment that eclipsed everything from that shameful night. Faced with the enormity of the disgrace I was about to endure and driven by the hope of being granted the chance to suck his cock, I inched closer, my nerves more intense than any combat mission where my life was on the line. Closing my eyes, I tried to envision myself performing a more intimate act with Amy to ease the crushing guilt. My warm breath hovered just inches from his butt crack when Tony suddenly turned his head, shattering the tense moment.
"Wait!" he exclaimed, glancing back at me as I halted and retreated, startled by his sudden shout. My heart raced, caught between fear and anticipation, hoping this was merely a test. I had demonstrated my commitment to follow his order, my breath still lingering between his cheeks, a reminder of my submission. The thought that he might be toying with me, letting me stew in the reality that I was committed to eating another man’s ass to reach my ultimate goal, sent a wave of humiliation through me. I awaited him to tell me he was kidding, yearning for a reprieve from the degrading act I was on the verge of committing.
"Beg for it," he commanded, his words striking me like a heavy blow. My heart sank as he kept me in his peripheral vision, awaiting my reaction. He watched closely, giving me a moment to process his new demand. Resistance had become futile; there was no escaping the reality of my situation. On my knees in a dingy hotel room, I was not only about to perform an act I had never imagined but was now required to beg for it. The memory of his cock, still fresh in my mind, drove me beyond my will, eroding any last remnants of my masculinity. Having crossed the point of no return, my resolve was shattered, and the idea of pleading with Tony had become a mere formality.
“I want it,” I whispered, knowing my plea was inadequate but praying it would be enough.
“What do you want?” Tony prompted.
“Your ass,” my voice trembling as I struggled to grasp the reality of my own request.
“Tell me what you want to do, Steve!” Tony commanded, his voice now even more firm and demanding.
“Fuck, I want to eat it,” I said louder, my voice suddenly thick with desperation. My proximity and the intense focus of my gaze on his massive, spandex-clad testicles turned my shameful plea into a declaration of unfiltered desire.
“Eat what, Steve?” Tony yelled back, matching my passion.
“I want to eat your asshole, Tony!” I exclaimed, suddenly eager to dive in but still held back by his pause.
“Well, what are you waiting for, silly?’ he taunted, stretching out the ‘silly’ with his pronounced lisp, a final reminder of my fate.
Somehow, the initial dread coursing through me had morphed into an overwhelming urge, compelling me to act even before his command left his lips. I settled onto the towel at the edge of the bed, my hands instinctively resting against the backs of his spandex-clad thighs for support. For a brief moment, I hesitated, my heart racing, and I could feel the pride exit my body as my nose made contact with his cheeks, parting them slightly as the rainbow-striped fabric brushed against my skin. The fullness of his bulbous cheeks kept my nose from reaching the cavernous base, intensifying the moment and amplifying my anticipation. I began to lick up and down, like a novice savoring an ice cream cone, my movements awkward and indicative of a straight man's first attempt at eating ass.
“Oh yeah, lick my crack, Steve?” Tony exclaimed, his voice booming louder than the football game on the TV behind us. The humiliating order somehow compelled me to exert myself even harder.
I mumbled a response; my voice muffled against him as I licked up and down. Each time I reached the apex, just shy of his arched back, I paused briefly to catch a glimpse of his greasy man-bun and the rainbow-striped "PRIDE" duffel bag beside his head, serving as a stark reminder of the absurdity of my new reality. With every descent, my chin brushed against his massive testicles, acting like a springboard that propelled my tongue back up his crack in a relentless, humiliating rhythm.
Tony's body suddenly shifted, lifting his ass higher as he abandoned the support of his elbows, forcing my tongue out from between his cheeks. I instinctively backed off. He stayed in the doggy-style position, but from my vantage point between his legs, I saw his head buried in the bed as his arms reached back. He paused, gripping the already split spandex, allowing the moment to hang in the air before, with deliberate force, tearing it apart in a motion reminiscent of Hulk Hogan ripping his shirt. The sharp sound of the fabric ripping echoed through the room. The spandex gave way, revealing his entire ass; smooth, hairless, and flawless, without a single imperfection, a stark contrast to his face.
Even with his head pressed into the bed, Tony's voice remained sharp and clear, his mouth turned to the side: “Spread them out, Steve,” he commanded, delivering the very order I had silently dreaded. At that point, I was too far gone to resist, fully committed to doing whatever it took to earn the rest of him. I had entirely succumbed to the control of the hung twink who now owned me.
I stared blankly at his fully exposed ass, consumed by shame and disbelief, struggling to process what was happening, even after all he had already put me through. The trail of saliva on his crack was a tangible reminder of how far I'd fallen. Despite everything, the grim reality of having to spread another man's ass with my own hands hit me deeply, underscoring the depth of my humiliation. Reluctantly, I raised my arms, elbows wide, gripping his cheeks' inner sides. As I pulled them apart, I was confronted with an up-close view of his asshole, something I wasn’t remotely prepared for. Its unexpected perfection, resembling the female porn stars I once admired, was a jarring contrast that only made the situation more surreal.
“Eat my asshole, Steve!” Tony shouted as I instinctively extended my tongue, hovering just before making contact. "Oh, Steve, yes!" he cried out as I finally made contact with his hole, his exaggerated reaction clearly intentional, reminding me of the humiliating act I was performing. The over-the-top enthusiasm felt like a taunt, a mocking reminder of the milestone I never wanted to reach. His drawn-out lisp on the “s” only deepened my shame as I began to rim the first asshole I had ever touched, something I hadn’t even done with my own wife. Tony’s steady moans echoed through the grimy room, a humiliating soundtrack to my degradation.
“Fuck me with your tongue, Steve!” he commanded, compelling me to treat my tongue as an extension of my cock. Without hesitation, I complied, surrendering all control over my actions, driven not just by an overwhelming desire to secure the privilege of sucking him off but now by a sudden need to please him. As I buried my tongue inside him, Tony’s moans grew louder, each feminine high-pitched grunt further eroding the last traces of my masculinity. Muscles in my tongue, ones I’d never consciously engaged before, worked tirelessly as I rhythmically fucked his asshole, my nose pressed against his tailbone, wedged tightly between his firm cheeks. The room filled with a bizarre symphony: the wet sounds of my tongue slurping against his saliva-coated hole mingled with the distant, masculine noises of clashing helmets and whistles from the game on TV.
“How’s do you like that, Steve?” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery, ensuring I never forgot the act I was performing. His teasing giggle quickly shifted to moans as I mumbled a response, my face still buried between his cheeks. Determined to prove myself, I pushed harder, treating this as my final test, a desperate audition to earn the privilege of wrapping my lips around the massive salami he had all but promised me if I obeyed.
“Fuck, that feels good, Steve,” he moaned, deliberately emphasizing my name with each taunting remark. As I continued to eat him out, my chin rested on his massive, spandex-wrapped testicles, providing unintended support for my head. My muscular arms, built to endure the rigors of military life, began to tire from holding his butt cheeks apart, but I pushed through the fatigue, determined to continue until told to stop. With every thrust of my tongue, I began to moan, suddenly deriving pleasure against my own will from this impossible task. Each sound became an uncontrollable testament to the determination propelling me forward.
Sensing my fatigue, Tony arched his back even further, lifting his ass higher into my face, which caused my tongue to slip out and my nose to glide up through the saliva-slick valley of his crack. "Put your nose in me!" he commanded, his voice dripping with dominance as he peered back at me through his spread legs, watching intently. His crooked grin widened, deepening my humiliation. From my position on my knees, his upside-down face seemed to pierce right through me as I absorbed the degrading order.
Still braced by my elbows, I hesitated before leaning back into Tony’s ass. My nose struggled to find its way into the tight crevice, now unaided by my exhausted arms that had once held his cheeks apart. With no other option, my lips pressed against his balls, the taste of spandex filling my mouth. Summoning every bit of energy I had left, I raised my weary arms again, using my core for stability. This time, without needing any further command, I pried his cheeks apart on my own, pushing my nose deep into the same spot my tongue had explored just moments earlier.
"Oh, yes!" Tony screamed, his voice filled more with dominance than actual pleasure, a cruel reminder of how thoroughly he was in control. My nose, barely brushing the entrance of his ass, seemed to serve no other purpose than to heighten my humiliation. As I pressed against him, my mouth still against his spandex-clad balls, it became clear this was never about his satisfaction; it was about asserting his power over me, pushing me deeper into submission. Every moment felt like a calculated move to degrade me further, and he savored it.
"Hug my legs!" Tony barked, yanking me off my elbows as I wrapped my arms tightly around his spandex-clad, slender thighs. My core gave out under the strain, and the weight of my upper body pulled me even closer, my nose buried deeper between his cheeks. "Oh, fuck yeah! Smell it!" he shouted, his exaggerated lisp sharpening the sting of humiliation. As he unarched his back, it pressed me further into him, trapping me against his ass and sealing his dominance over me.
I suddenly experienced an out-of-body moment, imagining what I must have looked like from an outsider’s perspective, on my knees at the edge of the bed, still wearing my Marine Corps shirt, my face buried in a twink’s ass, desperately clinging to his thighs as though my life depended on it. His rhythmic arching and unarching turned the degrading act into the ass-eating equivalent of trying to ride a bucking bull. My breathing grew labored beneath the weight of his massive balls pressing against my mouth, amplifying the suffocating reality of the situation. Tony's repeated grunts echoed louder than the football game in the background, and I knew he didn’t care if his voice penetrated the walls for others to hear. I couldn't believe what I had become; the humiliation would stay with me forever.
Without warning, Tony rolled onto his side, abruptly leaving behind the doggy-style position I had been braced against. Everything came to a sudden halt. My core tightened instinctively to keep me steady as my arms slipped away from his thighs, leaving me awkwardly kneeling at the edge of the bed with my elbows digging into the towel beneath me. Anxiety surged through my chest as I waited in tense silence for his next command. It felt as though the moment I had been waiting for had finally arrived.
“That was decent,” he muttered, his dismissive tone belittling the humiliating effort that had transformed me as a man. The offhand remark stung, reducing everything I had just endured to please him. Without warning, he yanked the towel out from under my elbows, forcing them upward and leaving me momentarily disoriented. With casual indifference, Tony rolled off the bed, his fabricated satisfaction quickly morphing into mild irritation as if silently questioning why I was still there. The abrupt shift in his demeanor caught me off guard, leaving me frozen and speechless.
He barely acknowledged my presence as he slowly wiped his saliva-slicked crack, propping one leg on the bed for easier access. The move felt almost taunting, as if he reveled in my humiliation. With a casual flick of his wrist, Tony tossed the towel back toward me, a smirk deepening the degradation and reminding me just how little I mattered. Instead of approaching me, he strolled toward the bathroom, never bothering to meet my gaze. I was left baffled, struggling to grasp what was happening. His bare ass, still partially visible through the torn spandex, stood as a stark reminder of what I had just done.
Before stepping into the bathroom, Tony paused and turned to me with a grin that pierced through my soul. The TV behind me flickered, and I could almost see the reflection of the football game in his glasses, which highlighted the acne-scarred pits of his face. “I’ll let you know about finishing me off tomorrow,” he said, maintaining eye contact, almost as if needing to see my shocked reaction to the realization that I wouldn’t even be given the opportunity to suck his cock, the entire reason I had come in the first place. He was strategically positioned, taunting me with the spandex bulge I wasn’t allowed to have. “You can see yourself out,” he added, not even giving me a second look as he disappeared behind the door.
I knelt at the foot of the bed, holding onto the fading hope that this had all been some cruel joke. I imagined Tony stepping out of the bathroom, fully nude, ready to laugh off the absurdity of it all, prepared to finally give me what I had already begged for. But that hope vanished with the sound of the shower, drowning out my thoughts. The reality hit me hard: I had been discarded like trash by a twink half my age. As someone who had risked his life for people like Tony, the fact that I hadn’t even been deemed worthy of sucking his cock cut deeper than I expected. Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet, grappling with the disbelief at how quickly the night had spiraled out of control.
It was 9:40 PM when I stepped into the hallway, glancing back one last time at the football game nearing halftime, a stark reminder of the masculinity I had lost. I pulled the shabby door shut behind me, the faint shower sound still audible through the flimsy walls. Ahead lay the desolate 500-foot walk of shame that awaited me. The rugged Marine Amy had married had been transformed into an ass-eater against his will, discarded by a twenty-two-year-old twink who cared little for the broken man he left in his wake. Her missed call echoed in my mind, a haunting reminder that I wouldn’t be returning it as the same man she had spoken to barely an hour ago.
To be continued…
