Date: Thu, 8 Dec 2016 15:36:55 -0800
From: Jacob Esteban <jacob442011@gmail.com>
Subject: please add Chapter 7 to Ed

Ed Chapter 7
by Jacob442011@gmail.com <Jacob442011@yahoo.com>
(feedback welcome)
Dedicated to Mike, my inspiration. [and Mike - please email, would love to
hear from you]



I glanced quickly down the long, dimly lit hotel hallway. Voices echoed
faintly, then silence. I paused, waiting, listening, but did not see
anyone.

Okay, I told myself, we're doing this. Taking a deep breath, I began to
remove my clothes. Naked but for my socks, I removed them and shoved
them in the duffel along with the rest of my belongings.

Now completely naked, I knocked on the door.

No answer.

I waited, looking.

Nervous butterflies stirred in my bare belly.

Do hotels have cameras? Does this one?

I shifted the bag to my other hand and knocked again.

Still no answer.

Jesus. I wondered how quickly I could get dressed if someone was coming.
Probably not quickly enough. Or, maybe I could duck around the corner by
the ice machine? There was a couple of chairs and a mirror just past it,
then a little farther, elevators. But, nowhere to really hide.

I swallowed and knocked again, standing close to the door, hoping my cock
and balls would be less visible to any hotel patrons who happened along at
this late hour.

Silence.

I glanced left, then right, anxiously, then peered down the hall.

Click.

The door opened a crack, deadbolt in place. Room dark, a voice from within
whispered, your bag. I scrunched up as close to the door as I could,
shoving my duffel through the opening, expecting the deadbolt to be
released and ready to slip in myself.

Instead, the door pushed into me, forcing me back into the hall, shutting,
a bolt sliding into place.

Naked and alone in the hallway, I scratched my head, puzzled.

My phone, clothes, and keys were all in my bag, behind a locked door.

What now? Maybe I could cover myself with my hands? Not really.

I knocked again.

Click.

The door opened, but only enough for a white notecard to slide out and
fall to the floor in front of me.

Hey, I began, reaching for the knob, but the door closed and locked.

I stooped to retrieve the note card.

It said - walk to the end of the hallway, through the glass doors, and out
on the balcony. Once you are there, look for instructions.

Jesus, I thought nervously, eyes darting around and over my exposed belly,
cock, and balls. I almost knocked again. Truthfully, I was a little turned
on, being naked in public like this, in the yellowish light of a hotel
hall. I kind of liked it. And yet, leaving my clothes and taking a stroll
past however many rooms - that seemed like it might be too much.

But, the instructions were clear.

I gulped.

And, I started walking. The scratchy, stained hotel carpet felt strange on
my bare feet. Televisions made their muffled sounds as I passed a few
doorways doorways. A woman laughed, and I almost jumped, no idea what I
would do if she opened her door.

Mercifully, I made it to the glass doors, hesitating, then opening them
cautiously. The balcony had several chairs and a concrete floor. What
stopped me though was the parking lot, clearly visible, that stretched out
in front of me through the wired railing. Oh shit, I thought, looking over
the rows of cars shimmering in the street lamp light. If I could see them,
they could probably see me. Again, I was thankful for the late night and
the darkness. A slight chill gave me goosebumps as I looked
furtively around.

Aha - there it was. I picked a card up off a small table and read - take
the banana, lean over the rail, and do what the banana tells you.

Banana? What banana? I don't see a banana - oh, there it is. How did I miss
it?

The banana was setting on the outer edge of the rail, in about the middle,
facing the parking lot. As I inched closer to the rail, I observed a few
rooms and balconies looking down toward me. I swallowed, conscious of my
nakedness and that as I got closer to the metal guard rail, I was more and
more visible. On the one hand, this turned me on, being exposed like this.
Who might I encounter? Exciting! On the other hand, who indeed may I meet.
What if it's awkward? Embarrassing?

Do what the banana tells you.

I crept up to the rail. Not seeing anyone, or at least, not seeing that
anyone saw me, I took a breath and picked up the banana. Lean over the rail
and do what the banana tells me? What does that mean? It was yellowish
green, thick, solid, slightly curved. I studied it. As I turned it over, I
noticed small writing on the opposite side.

The writing instructed: peel me and suck me like a cock. And, make it hot.

What?

Hands trembling, I took another breath and began peeling while leaning over
the rail. Gulp. I licked the tip, then I licked it again. I slid my tongue
up one side of the banana and down the other before licking the tip again,
imagining what it would be like to be licking the sensitive underside of a
cockhead. Then, I thrust the banana in, and out, in, and out, thinking of
my tongue and how it might feel with a real cock. I wrapped my lips around
and sucked the banana, tonguing it, and then I held it still and thrust my
head back and forth onto it, moaning as if I were impaling myself on a
penis, sucking and licking the (penis) banana while shoving my ass upwards
behind me for good measure. Imagination rolling, I was getting into it,
spreading my legs and shaking my ass while giving a blowjob to my (cock)
banana.

Clap, clap, clap.

Oh fuck! I about toppled over the railing, whirling around. A slender man
with several piercings and dark, colorful tattoos that reached out from
behind his clothes, dressed in a dark suit, stood with a striking woman,
black and blue hair long, full breasts spilling out of her tight black
otherwise professional shirt. Both were smiling and clapped some more.

That was quite a performance, the man said pleasantly, and the woman nodded
in agreement, eyes twinkling.

For a moment, I thought of trying to run, to push past them and
escape. Then, I thought, escape to where? I also thought of trying to cover
myself, but it that seemed pointless. Besides, they'd already seen the
goods. So, I stood up taller, casually pulling in my gut and sticking out
my chest, as if it was normal to be naked on a hotel balcony while giving
oral sex to a banana.

We were wondering, the woman said after a moment, if you would like to come
back to our room for a drink?

I swallowed. Uh, sure.

I'm Clara, she said warmly, extending her hand as if we'd met at a
supermarket or coffee shop. The fellow said, I'm Stephen, also holding out
his hand. I said, Mike, and we all shook. I felt nervous but also turned
on. They were dressed, and I was nude. Hot. Yet weird. But, they seemed
cool, though. Why not?

They led me partway down the hall from the room where I'd left my
belongings. Inside, they had three glasses alongside a bottle of red wine
and some French bread. Please, Stephen offered, inviting me to sit, pouring
for all of us.

Mind if we get comfortable? Clara asked.

Uh, no, I replied, enjoying the taste of the wine and the warmth in the
room. Not bad, I admitted.

I'm glad, Clara said in response, sliding off her shirt to reveal a black
bra that was struggling to contain her breasts. God, she has nice titties,
I thought, staring. Clara winked in reply, sliding her pants down to reveal
black lacy underwear that only barely concealed a bushy black mound of
pubic hair.

Good idea, Stephen agreed, removing his clothes as well, clad only in
patterned boxer shorts, part of his cock and one of his balls visible
through the opening (not that I was looking or anything).

No one spoke for a moment, enjoying our wine. Then, Clara said,I would like
you to have sex with my husband. In particular, I want you to at least give
him a handjob. In fact, that was my original plan, until I saw you blowing
your banana. If you are up for it, I'd like you to think about giving him a
blowjob, if you want - but a handjob for sure.

You were going to ask me? I said, wondering how it was that this couple
found me in the middle of the night.

Clara looked thoughtful a moment, considering something, then continued as
if I had not said anything.

In return, Clara said, Stephen will give you a handjob, and I may even let
you touch these (she glanced toward her amazing breasts), if you are a good
boy (she concluded, coyly). Then, a thought seemed to strike her. She
turned to her husband. You know, Stephen, if he decides to suck your cock,
you really should suck his.

Stephen was smiling; I could not read his face or what he was thinking.

I've never sucked a dick before, I admitted, taking a drink of wine.
Thought about it once or twice, true, I said, but never as much as when,
er... - my voice trailed off and I looked down at the banana on the table
by me.

You did seem inspired, Clara said to me, you and your banana. Her smile was
friendly, if mischievous. And, I, quite frankly, she added with a new edge
to her voice, I am tired of the double standard today.

Double standard? I asked her. Stephen gave me a knowing look.

Sure, Clara said, double standard. I mean, it's hot for a guy to watch his
woman have sex with a woman, right? I mean, it's understood that women are
bisexual. We appreciate other women's bodies, we like their breasts,
we want to lick their pussies and make them come. Right? And it just so
happens that our men really like this as well. I mean, come on. Tell me
- men want to have sex with women, and men want women to have sex with each
other. I mean, right?

Yes, I said, true.

But what about us? Clara asked.

You?

Us?

Well, I said, it seems like you have a good deal - I mean, it's great for
you to have sex with a man, and it's also great for you to have sex with a
hot woman. What's not to like?

Clara's eyes flashed. You make my point, she said. But, tonight, we turn
the tables. I want to enjoy the show and watch my husband have sex with
another man. I get a front row seat to watch my husband have sex with you.

Hmm...I managed.

Are you up for it? Clara demanded not unpleasantly.

Well... I stalled.

If I let him, uh, give me a handjob, or a blowjob - if he gets to do
that....

Yes, Clara said impatiently.

Well, I said, I want to play with your titties while he does.

Clara looked pleased. Why is that? she inquired.

Because you are fucking hot, I couldn't help blurting.

Good answer, Clara acknowledged.

Okay, come over here, both of you. And you, she said to Stephen, pausing
to give him a quick kiss, before adding, get naked. He agreeably slipped
off his undershorts, the two of us standing naked, together.

Clara stroked her chin, thoughtful, looking away, saying to herself, maybe
I'll even switch things up... Then, she turned to us. You both do what I
say, when I say it, got it.

Yes Ma'am, I said with a smile, and drank in Clara's sexy belly and breasts
and legs and curves before glancing over Stephen's skinny, tattooed body.
His cock was slender with a slight curve, longer than mine, and his balls
hung low. Clara was much nicer to look at than Stephen, no question. Now
that she was in her underwear, I could see she had some ink on her low
belly as well as across part of her back, and her hair was black and full
with a blue streak permeating it. Exquisite.

I turned to Stephen. Soon, we would be touching each other's naked bodies.

Butterflies teased my tummy.

What next?

You, Clara ordered, over here. She had me to kneel on the comfy chair,
hands on the arms, facing the back rest.

Alright baby, she told Stephen as she handed him a bottle of lube. Put some
oil in your hand and start rubbing it over his back.

I looked over my shoulder, and Stephen was smiling. He applied the oil; it
had been warmed. His hands spread it across my back. It felt strange, this
man's hands crisscrossing my skin. And yet, I liked it, too.

Good Honey, Clara approved. Now, massage.

Stephen began to kneed my shoulders, clenching, pushing, maneuvering his
hands. Ah, I let out a happy groan.

Good Mike, said Clara. I want you to moan when it feels good; make some
sound, right?

Uh, yeahh, I agreed as Stephen's fingers worked my back, adding - Oooooh,
damn, that feels good.

The red wine tasted yummy on my tongue, and Stephen's hands were quite
welcome on my body.

Now, Clara instructed, oil and rub his buttocks, then legs.

Stephen spread and worked oil into my tight ass cheeks. It hurt so good.
Damn man, you have some skills, I said, then moan-gasped. Ah, ah, ah.

Stephen's hands oiled inside my thighs. Ooh, I let slip as I felt his
fingers slide along my inner thighs and just graze my ball sac. He
continued, and each time he "accidentally" brushed my balls, I moaned.

I like this, Clara said. Mmmmm. Okay, now, get close and do Mike's chest
from behind - lean into him and get his pecs. Stephen pressed against me,
and I felt his cock and balls and inner thigh against my buttocks. It felt
weird in that he was skinny and manly, yet his nakedness felt sexy, too.
And his hands, oh his hands, they worked my pecs without touching my
nipples - just kneading the tight muscles.

Ooooh, I said, pleased.

Sometime later, Clara said - time for the titties.

What?

Stephen's hands massaged my nipples.

Ooh, I moaned and involuntarily pushed my ass up and back.

Then, he gave my tits a squeeze.

Ah! I exclaimed with an arch of my back.

Stephen cupped my breasts, hands rubbing circles over them before sliding
down to caress my belly.

Oooh, I said, standing higher on my knees and arching my back further,
pushing out my chest and belly, clasping my hands behind my head.

That's it baby, Cara encouraged. Show him you like it, she told me.

Stephen's oily hands flowed across my nakedness. It felt really good.

Balls, Clara said.

Stephen's hands cupped by testicles, fondling them while caressing beside
and below them.

Ooooh, yeah, I said in response, pushing my ass against him and gripping
the chair.

Cock, said Clara.

Both of Stephen's oily hands jumped to my cock, stroking upward, one after
another. Clara poured more oil onto my stiffening dick, dribbling it over
his hands and onto the floor.

Oh Jesus, I said, belly tingling, ecstasy all around, Stephen's warm
nakedness pressing against me as his hands alternated, stroking me through
the warm oil. I looked over my shoulder at Stephen, and he appeared
pleased, giving me a smile. My mouth dropped open, and I was trying to look
composed, but my eyes half closed, breathing becoming more rapid.

Faster, said Clara. Make him cum. Now.

The hands that reached around me gripped tight, pumping up and
down, pumping, pumping, pumping.

Oh God, I heard myself gasp, panting and thrusting myself into Stephen's
hands, eyes rolling back into my head. Oh God, oh God, oh God, I
announced, ecstasy burning, cum exploding, gasping and shuddering,
clenching my eyes shut, body shaking. Ooh, ooh, oooh, I
moan-shouted. Keeeeeep going! He did. So did I.

***

Thank you for reading!
Would you like more?
Honest feedback (good, bad, indifferent) is welcome - please email
jacob442011@gmail.com.