This story is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, places or events is coincidental. This story contains scenes of explicit sex between adult males. If you find such content not to your taste or it is illegal for you to view such content, stop reading now.
The rest of you, enjoy! If you have any comments, please email them to ap.writer1971@gmail.com
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SPLASH AT THE HOTEL Episode 1 - The Cab Journey
Conrad Armstrong stepped out of the air conditioned airport into a blisteringly hot and humid atmosphere. He could feel the shirt cling to his taut frame as he wheeled his small suitcase towards the cab rank.
The queue for taxis was long, but moved quickly. But in the five minutes of waiting for the cab, Conrad's white shirt was sodden with sweat, heading toward transparency. The couple in front of him in the queue kept looking backwards, the young woman making admiring glances at his pectorals and large, prominent nipples emerging through the reducing opacity of the shirt. Her husband put a protective arm around her, pulling her more closely in an act of possessiveness. That didn't stop him, Conrad noted, from sneaking an occasional look at the young man's frame himself. He initially thought it was jealousy, but the way the husband licked his lips, his eyes darting down to Conrad's crotch when his wife was not looking, indicated that there was an element of lust in the man's gaze.
In short order, the couple ducked into a cab, leaving Conrad at the head of the queue. The next cab drew up quickly and, seeing the suitcase on the sidewalk, leapt out to open the trunk.
"Oh, no need," said Conrad quickly. "It's only small, I can put it on the back seat next to me. Besides," he continued, indicating his sodden shirt, "I'm going to need to grab a T-shirt out of it."
The driver, a young man with dark skin and an impeccable shirt stretched over an impressively muscular frame, smiled to reveal rows of gleaming white teeth. "No problem," he laughed. "Where are you off to?"
Conrad hesitated. "I'm actually off for a job interview," he said. "I don't know the exact address, but it's on the documents in my case. I know it's a couple of blocks away from the sea front, but..."
"Don't worry," the driver said. "Get yourself in and we'll head in that direction while you sort out the details." He held the door open for Conrad, who shucked his case onto the seat and then slid in beside it.
As the driver slammed the door behind him, Conrad breathed with relief. Inside the car, the air conditioning was maintaining a welcome, cool temperature. A blast of humidity briefly hit him as the driver's door opened and the muscular man slid into the driver's seat. As the cab pulled away from the curbside, Conrad unzipped the top of his case to hunt for the letter with the interview details on.
"You'd do well to change that shirt right away," the driver said, smiling at Conrad through the rear view mirror. "You won't want to turn up to an interview stinking of stale sweat."
Without thinking, Conrad unbuttoned the shirt and peeled it off his already cooling torso. Ruffling around in the bag, he grabbed a small towel and wiped off the sweat that was causing his smooth skin to glisten. In front of him, the driver made a small noise. As Conrad looked up, he noticed the man's eyes dart back on to the road from the mirror.
Conrad smiled to himself. He knew the effect his body had on other people, the product of years of swimming every day and working hard at both the gym and also his passion for dance. The straightest of men couldn't help looking, but there was something in the driver's demeanor that, Conrad guessed, was aroused by the sight of a young man now half- naked in the back of his car.
Pleased at the effect he was having, Conrad elected not to replace his shirt for the time being, but instead to find the interview letter that contained the address he wanted to be driven to.
The letter was in a pocket on the top of the suitcase, and he pulled it out to read it one more time. Below the letterhead of the Spring House Gay Men's Resort was the address, which he read out to the driver without mentioning the name of the hotel. In the rear view mirror, he saw a smile and a raised eyebrow, indicating that the address was a familiar one.
Conrad read the rest of the letter one more time, even though he knew it word for word, having read it and re-read it many times each day since he had received it two weeks ago.
Dear Mr Armstrong,
Thank you for your application for the post of Assistant Manager,
and for taking the time to take part in the telephone interview
yesterday.
I am happy to say that we are interested enough in your application
to invite you to visit the resort for a second interview. Given the
distance you will have to travel, it would be unreasonable to
expect you to make a round trip in a single day, so we will provide
overnight accommodation for you. This will also give you the
opportunity to view all aspects of the resort, as it is important
to us that the successful applicant is going to be happy to work
here.
As I know you are aware, Spring House is a clothing optional resort
for gay men. It is essential that all employees are comfortable
with nudity, and so we insist that all interviews for permanent
staff are conducted fully naked on the premises. If this is a
problem for you than I must regret we cannot take your application
any further.
However, I hope that we will see you at Spring House very shortly,
and look forward to your arrival.
Sincerely yours,
Jet Simons
Proprietor, Spring House Resort
Every time he read that letter, Conrad felt his cock stir slightly. He had Googled the resort extensively and Jet Simons was a really hot guy. He'd found a series of photos on photo sharing site flickr taken by a guest who'd stayed at the resort. The pictures showed Simons shirtless, with either swim shorts or just Speedos, with thick thighs and what he imagined to be a lengthy cock, pressed into an impressive bulge. The thought of being completely naked in front of such a fine specimen excited him. He just hoped that having a hard-on while being interviewed wouldn't be a problem.
He was awoken from his reverie when he realized the driver was asking him a question. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" he asked, tucking the letter back into the suitcase pocket and adjusting the stiffening of his crotch in his pants.
The driver smiled, "I asked if you were going to be working at Spring House."
Conrad blushed a little. Why am I blushing, he thought? "Hopefully," he replied. "I'm being interviewed for the assistant manager's job."
"Impressive," said the driver. "With a body like that you'll certainly go down well with the customers."
So he IS interested in my body, Conrad thought. He ran a hand almost absent-mindedly across his chest and down his prominent abdominals, aware that the driver was following the movement in the rear view mirror. "You sound like you know the place well," he said.
"Well, I know of it," the driver said. "Could never afford to stay there, though. Not on the money you earn from driving a cab."
"You don't have the body of a cab driver," Conrad replied, flirtatiously. The smile he had noticed broke out again. "When you spend most of your days sitting down you've got to work extra hard to keep your body in shape," he laughed. "I've spent far too long in the gym, but it pays off in the clubs at night. If you know what I mean."
Conrad could certainly imagine. The thought of the driver's muscular frame in tight trousers and a figure-hugging T-shirt - or even better, topless - did nothing to reduce the swelling in his crotch.
"So there is a nightlife around here, then...?" Conrad paused, inviting the driver to give his name.
"Michael," the driver smiled. "There's enough to get by. It's a small town, so there are only a couple of bars, but there are enough tourists to stop things getting... dull."
Conrad smiled back. "Maybe if I get this job you can show me around."
"Oh, that's a promise," smiled Michael. "I'll show you everything." That last word was so laden with meaning that Conrad made a decision.
"Pull over here for a minute," he said.
Michael looked at him quizzically. "But we're in the middle of nowhere...?"
"Exactly."
Michael got the hint and slowed the cab down. He found a small side road that Conrad had not seen, and drove a little way until the cab could not be seen from the main road. They were alone just a couple of miles away from the outskirts of town.
Conrad leant forward, reaching into the front of the cab, and ran his hand over Michael's shirt. The driver's body was all muscle, with no fat at all. He felt Michael breathe in heavily, arching his back at the young man's touch. Conrad moved his hand down, resting on a large mound of flesh underneath the light fabric of Michael's pants. Michael let out a breathy gasp at the touch.
The car was imposing too many problems in making contact with Michael, Conrad felt. "Come on," he said, opening the passenger car door and indicating that Michael should step out also. The warm air hit his naked chest instantly, but no sooner was he standing upright outside the car than Michael was on him, kissing him ferociously, pushing him back onto the warm metal of the car bodywork.
The buttons on Michael's shirt came undone with ease, hampered only by Michael's arms and hands exploring as much as possible of Conrad's body. Michael leant down, kissing Conrad's chest, biting his nipples. As he leant over, Conrad ran his hands down Michael's back, then over his ass cheeks, which were rock hard.
Conrad's appreciative whistle turned into a gasp as a blast of fresh air hit his cock. Michael had managed to get his pants unzipped and around his ankles in record time, and had pulled his meat out of their home in his tight white briefs.
With a lick and a kiss, Michael's mouth proceeded to engulf Conrad's ten inch cock, taking as much of it as he could into his mouth in one gulp. Conrad yelled out as he felt the tip of his helmet rub against the back of Michael's mouth and into his throat. The driver was an excellent cock sucker, so good that if he didn't slow the man down Conrad would be spurting in no time.
With reluctance he applied pressure onto Michael's shoulders, pushing him back so that he released the cock from his mouth. A mixture of precum and saliva dribbled from the corner of Michael's mouth as he looked up and gave that winning smile to Conrad once again.
Conrad pulled him upright so that they were face to face, then kissed Michael's mouth, tasting his own precum amongst Michael's own scent. He felt Michael's hands run up and down his naked back and onto his butt, before moving round and massing his nut sack.
"Unfair," he said smiling as Michael tugged on his balls. "I'm the only one naked here."
Michael grinned, taking a couple of steps back. He kicked off his shoes, then unbuckled his belt. Turning round, he wiggled his butt mischievously at Conrad, who couldn't help laughing. Slowly, Michael lowered the waistband of his pants, revealing a smooth, muscular butt that made Conrad wolf whistle in appreciation. In a flash, the pants were whipped off, leaving Michael standing fully naked with his back to Conrad, who had now wrapped his fist around his meat, stroking slowly to eke out more pre-cum.
Michael turned, his cock waving proudly erect and swaying from side to side as the driver wiggled his hips suggestively. Conrad's jaw went slack as he took in the sight of the monstrous muscle. He knew that his own dick was on the larger than average side, but Michael's must have been a good two or three inches longer than his, at least a foot in length.
Conrad stood from where he had been leaning on the cab and grabbed the impressive meat. It felt so good to have another man's cock in his hand, and he could feel it responding to his touch. Bringing Michael closer, he rubbed it against his own cock as he kissed the driver once more. Their hands moved all over each other's naked bodies with an increasing ferocity.
But there was only one thing Conrad wanted now. He pulled away from Michael, then spun him round so that his champion ass was visible to him once more. Kicking Michael's legs wide, pushing him forward so that he had to lean on the car for support, he leant down and ran his tongue between those two perfect, bulbous cheeks.
Michael sighed, pushing his ass towards Conrad's tongue, reaching back to pull his cheeks apart to offer his passenger the pink, clenched hole that he wanted so badly. Conrad spat on the bud, then thrust his tongue into the sweet spot. He could feel a new dash of precum gloop out his cock and took care to lubricate his meat with the clear liquid.
"Fuck me," Michael groaned, and Conrad needed no further invitation. Standing up once more, he placed his glistening helmet between the taut muscles of Michael's glutes. The rosebud opened up to the pressure placed against it, and his cock slid into Michael with ease.
He could feel the rhythm of Michael's fist pounding his own monster cock as Conrad's pushed ever deeper into him. Grabbing Michael's shoulders for support, Conrad built up a steady pace, pummeling into the guy's butt as hard as he could. His pleasure was only matched by the groans coming from Michael, whose whole body was pulsing with every plunge of Conrad's meat.
Suddenly, with a shout as loud as any Conrad had heard, Michael's cock began to erupt. Streams of thick, white semen started to shoot out, spraying the side of the taxicab. The sight was too much for Conrad, who felt his own orgasm start as a wave of energy, running throughout his body into his cock, before erupting from the tip and shooting deep into Michael's body.
As his orgasm continued, he pulled out of Michael, his still pulsing cock splashing streams of cum over the driver's smooth, muscular back. As he eked out the last globs of liquid, he leant over and licked up his own jizz from Michael's body, before turning round and sharing his juice with Michael's hot mouth, kissing him tenderly as they stood, pressing their naked bodies together.
After what felt like an age, Michael broke away. "Look what we've done to my car," he joked, indicating the mess of sperm all over one side of the minicab.
"Worth it, though," grinned Conrad.
"Oh yeah, baby," Michael agreed, giving the young man's still sensitive cock a gentle stroke. "But hadn't we better get you to the hotel? You've got a job interview to get to."
Conrad smiled. Even if he didn't get the job, this trip had already proved worthwhile.
END OF PART ONE