The hard road to Xativa – Part II

[If you haven’t read part I already, find it here –> https://stinkies.blog/2020/04/01/the-hard-road-to-xativa/ ]

Joel’s taxi journey was sticky and full of wild ideas. The hot air blowing through the window only served to dry his brows and blow-back his hair. He wasn’t sure what could be expected of Mim with this wild goose chase. Naturally he found the idea thrilling and considered himself lucky to be maritally bound to such a wildcat, but equally, a touch of disappointment at not having seen her at the airport sat on his tongue.

The taxi, pulling a hard right, pulled Joel from his thoughts and fixed him upon the half-weathered excuse of a hotel plonked a dusty plot. Even in the blazing spanish sun, this particular construction was able to suck light and colour from surrounding it. Wirey leafless trees, cracked wall paint and a fading sign for the entrance were all that greeted him. Tipping the taxi driver favorably and walking through the arched entrance, he smiled at the thought of Mim, hunting for the location of her next sexual feast, patting herself on the back for such an obscene choice of accommodation.

Joel checked in, picked up his room key and headed to the first flight corridor. The door to room 138 opening with a satisfying click.

He threw his bag on the bed. The clock showed 6:15pm, he didn’t want to hang around. He headed to the bathroom to get himself showered and prepped for what could likely be an arduous and enduring night. The mirror inside, cracked in the corner, showed a man who had a dangerous mix of fatigue and excitement. The red eyes, hot cheeks and his normally flush facial hair airing on the side of wild. He was an attractive man, his experiences with women had taught him that. Being tall and dark, he found that he was a standard template for women’s desires, and had learnt to become sexually proficient through years of much-enjoyed adventures.

Without breaking his own eye contact, he peeled the layers of clothes from his body onto the tile floor. Running down his body, he examined his features. Following his throat, between his collarbones and reaching his sternum. Noting the textures and notes of his skin. The smooth between the rough. Running his eyes down his stomach, past his belly-button and beyond. Joel could do this for hours, admiring the contours and lines his muscles created around his body. The way it felt to be entirely man for just a moment.

A black bag caught his eye to the left of the mirror. He blushed at his own narcissism for not having seen it prior. It was his and Mim’s trusty sex bag. The blood surged downwards, hardening him at the thought of her having been there before him.

He opened it and found a note tucked neatly inside.

“Clean yourself up, be ready, you have a 7.30pm, no uniform required, Mim”

Pulling himself away from his excitement, he further delved into the bag, seeing that the toiletries provided did not elude any further to the night’s festivities. He got to work grooming, scrubbing and cleaning. It was part of the joy of sex, washing away all of life’s stresses and taking pride in ones sense of being a man. He had to work extra carefully to work around his phallus, which seemed all too ready to step up to the mark and penetrate anything that got too close.

Time passed, and Joel stepped out of the bathroom in a puff of aftershave soaked vapour. He noted the chill of the evening air hitting his body, pimpling his skin. He was ready, and it was almost time. It wouldn’t be long before the show would begin, what show that would be he was not yet sure.

7.25pm and the phone shrilled shook him from his thoughts. He walked across the room, pulled the phone from the receiver.

“Yes?” he started.
“Room 140, are you ready?”, it was Mim
“Yes”
“Good, they will see you now”

The phone clicked back onto the receiver leaving Joel and the dial tone.

They? He thought to himself. Giving it no further thought, he opened the door an inch, peered both ways and scurried, completely naked and somewhat vulnerable to room 140. The door was ajar. He hurriedly pushed himself through and closed the door behind him. The lights were off and only the street lights gave luminescence. Stood there with no clothes, eyes adjusting, he finally saw what the night lay before him.

Three fully-suited men, sat there, hungry eyed for the feast that had just been delivered. This was sure to be a night like no other.