Don Baker - The naughty night clerk

Then he stopped. His talking had set me on fire, because he was expressing my own desires.

“Then why didn’t you? Why don’t you now?” I began undressing and when he saw what I was doing, turned away.

I had gotten as far as my bra and panties, and was about to get my breasts free, when he spoke.

“There’s no reason for you to do that.” His voice was low, sad, and it made me stop.

“Why?” I asked, astounded. I turned him toward me and took off my bra. Surely my breasts, with their erect nipples and fullness, would break the wall he had built around himself. And my panties were sheer, skimpy, and the dark triangle at my cleft had turned on many a man before.

I again pulled open his robe and noticed that his cock was still limp, just hanging there, no reaction at all. Adonis looked at me, then down to his prick.

“I’m… I’m impotent.” It was a statement of finality.

“What? Impotent? You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” he replied, dejectedly, sadly. “I was in an accident a couple of years ago and had to have an operation. The operation left me in this condition.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I’ve heard-of many cases where people thought they were impotent, but under the right stimulus have…" “Don’t you think I’ve tried everything, with a hundred different girls? It’s no use. The doctor said I would be like this the rest of my life. There’s no hope for even a miraculous change.”

“Maybe you just haven’t had the right girl.” I was hotter now than i had been before. Looking at his drooping penis had set my joy box on fire. I needed satisfaction.

I removed his robe and steered him to the bed. Once on the bed, I climbed on top of him and rubbed myself all over his body. I put his prick between my legs and squeezed. Then, I bent over and took his cock in my mouth. Nothing. It was as limp after a few minutes of hard sucking as it was before. I knew there was nothing I could do.

“See what I mean,” he said, seeing the frustration on my face. “I’ve tried everything. There’s just no hope.”

I could tell by the tone of his voice that be had accepted his fate. Too, I had heard that along with impotency the desire for sex also decreases. At least, nature plays fair.

But not fair to me. I was burning with desire. I needed a good fuck. I rolled off Adonis and lay on my back, my hand over my eyes. My hips were moving and my other hand was roving my body, from my breasts to my mound of hair, and back. I needed a good screw. Damn, did I need a good screw. Right now, I’d even settle for a bad one.

Adonis was aware of my plight, and pulled me to him. He kissed me full on the mouth, but I wasn’t too responsive, until I felt his finger between my legs. I lifted my leg and placed it across his body, allowing his hand free access to my joy box. He slowly rubbed the lips of my cunt, now ripe with juice, and I returned his kisses feverishly, moaning, pushing my body into his. When we broke away I pulled his head to my breasts, and pressed hard.

He sucked and bit into my nipples and I moaned, a satisfying, desiring moan, as his finger entered my. box. I lifted my hips to his thrusts and although it wasn’t like having a big, fat cock inside me, at least it was giving me some pleasure. He shoved his finger in as far as it would go and rotated it, touching every nook and cranny of my box. I crossed my legs, entrapping his hand, and was on the verge of shooting off.

Groaning lustily, I spread my legs and whispered, “Now, shove it in hard. I want to come.”

Adonis got on his knees and bent over my body. With a motion that almost drove me insane, he pumped his finger in and out of my hole so fast that I dug my fingernails into him until they almost drew blood. I was moaning and twisting wildly, unable to hump enough to meet his ever-increasing speed.

When I came, I let out a scream, and had to put my hand over my mouth to silence the sound. But he didn’t stop fingering me, he continued and as he did, I continued to let out spurt after spurt. Finally, when I could come no more, I put my hand on his to stop him. If I hadn’t, he probably would have still been doing it.

“Thanks,” I said, in sincere gratitude. As I said, his finger wasn’t like a big, juicy cock, but it was a fair substitute.

He laid back on the bed and pulled me to him. I could feel his rod, as limp as ever, pressing against my hairy mound.

We lay there for a half hour or so and talked. I asked if there was anything I could do to sexually satisfy him and he told me no. Fortunately, his sex cravings diminished after the operation and it didn’t bother him too much.

While we were talking, he had been running his fingers over my body, my breasts, across the nipples, and had again aroused me. I took his hand and placed it between my legs.

“No, not this time,” he said, pulling me up so that I was on my knees. He then placed me so that I was straddling his face and facing the headboard of the bed. Quickly, and deftly, he ran his tongue over the lips of my cunt.

I eased down so my box would be closer to his mouth and slowly moved my body, only slightly, across his face. He took my cunt lips into his mouth and sucked on them. I closed my eyes and massaged my breasts, pinched the nipples, rubbed my stomach, and pressed against my mound. I was ecstatic. Adonis flicked his tongue in and out of my hole, which brought groans of passion from deep inside my body.

My breasts were red from where I had been rubbing them, and the nipples stood out what seemed like an inch. I knew no pain, however, because Adonis was lapping my cream, moving his tongue inside me, causing me to shoot off load after load of juice.

I grabbed the headboard and rode his face, as his tongue touched every inch of my joy box. I must have spewed out a gallon of fluid because it seemed like I would never stop coming. When I did, I fell to the side of the bed, exhausted.

Adonis cleaned his face and turned to me.

“Like that?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Um um,” was all I could reply, as I kissed him in appreciation.

We talked for awhile longer and he treated me to another finger job and also another lunch at the "Y".

The following day, when he checked out, I smiled a sincere ‘thank you’ at him.

Youth knows no bounds, and this could be no truer than with a bellhop we had at the Barton. Billy was fifteen and had worked at the hotel for about two years.

One night, just before going off duty, he stopped by my desk and told me his parents would be moving to another town in a few days and he would be quitting his job.

We talked for awhile, and I told him how sorry we were that he was leaving, that we would miss him and wished him the best.

His last day on the job, Billy again came by the desk, ostensibly to say goodbye. When conversation lagged, and he just stood there, I asked, “Is there anything else you wanted to say, Billy?”

He looked at me, then dropped his gaze to the floor, then looked around.

“We’ve known each other for a long time, Billy. I'll be glad to listen to whatever you have to say.”

He looked at me, then blurted, “Miss Logan, I want to go to bed with you.”

Silence. Dead silence. I was caught off guard, stunned, didn’t know what to say. Billy, like the other men in and out of the hotel, was always looking at me, but he was only a boy, a fifteen-year-old boy.

“Billy,” I said, almost in admonishment, though I had to admire his boldness.

“Do you know what you just said?”

His face was red, but he had said it, now he was determined to follow through, embarrassed or not.

“Yes, I know what I said, Miss Logan.” His voice was faltering, and he was fighting hard to control his fears. “I’ve watched you for two years now, and each time I see you I get a funny feeling inside. I know you think of me only as a teenager, and you’ve had older men…“