BD-ex-M - Prologue

His thighs quivered and his legs buckled as he spewed his cum all over the hotel shower curtain. He collapsed onto his knees taking the full blast of the shower in the face. His anus twitched around his left middle finger - three knuckles deep - while his right hand gently milked the remaining ejaculate onto the shower floor. He knelt in the deluge allowing his body to resume normality - slowly extracting his finger with a moist "pop" and cradling his cock and balls as they softened, spent like an empty magazine. He rolled onto his back, assuming a bathing position and squeegeed the rest of his fluids from his hands and chest as the shower continued to rain down.

How had he gotten to the point of anally masturbating in a strange hotel, 1,000 miles and three states from home? He and his ex had been getting along famously lately - to the point that she'd started sending him saucy photos. They initially left much to the imagination - fully, or at least strategically, clothed - with a bit of rope or a non-sequiter prop rounding out the mystery. Nipples were gradually and tastefully incorporated over time. Most recently they'd taken on a more explicit tone with barely concealed full-frontal nudity showing off her carefully sculpted physique in positions suggestive of sexual readiness, willingness, and ability.

Their texts had become more explicit, talking about missed opportunities, sexual awakenings, and opportunities for reconciliation. She reminded him of her (and his) previous hesitance regarding anal, but offered herself if he'd reciprocate. He had some experience as the bottom decades ago, but before he agreed to re-engage he needed to remind himself why he had stopped.

So, on a business trip out of state, he found himself lathering up both hands with plenty of lubricating body wash. One leg on the side of the tub, his left hand passed between his legs and found his puckered asshole. It'd been a minute, but he was pretty sure he remembered how it all worked. His finger pressed against his anus and was firmly rejected. He'd have to be gentle and coercive. His right hand cupped his balls, caressing and massaging them, letting everyone know they would be remembered and cared for. Rolling his testicles with one hand, his finger again asked for permission to enter, this time sliding up to the first knuckle.

He caught his breath as his sphincter adjusted to its new occupant. He shifted his right hand from his balls to his cock, stroking slowly, giving everything time to settle in. The next push allowed one more knuckle, and he started pumping his finger in time with the stroking of his cock. Nearly overwhelmed with the new old sensations, he pulled out and dropped his cock, leaning heavily against the ADA bars in the shower - allowing his heartbeat to return to some semblance of normalcy.

As he caught his breath, the steam created sauna-like conditions. He pushed himself from an inclined to upright position and relathered his hands, practically jacking off his left finger to both clean it and ensure smooth re-entry.

He put one heel back on the side of the tub, reached again between his legs, forced - less gently this time - his finger into his ass and resumed stroking his cock. He sank his finger to the proximal phalange - considered adding a finger, but chose discretion as the better part of valor, to live to pump another day - and kneaded his prostate while rhythmically stroking his shaft.

The sensations were new and hard to account for causing confusion regarding if and when he was about to climax. He finally found a reliable, repeatable technique that let him know he could finish. He sprayed long, thick ropes of cum onto the shower curtain and collapsed as we found him.

***

He wasn't sure how long he lay there, but he was pretty sure he was going to miss the plenary session of the conference he was supposed to be attending. He didn't rush but rather let the shower wash away his "sins". He eventually propped himself up on one elbow, shut off the shower, and crawled onto the bathroom floor.

He pulled himself up by the counter top and saw his fogged over reflection - still lean and at least somewhat defined despite age, steam, and all-too-often sedentariness. He fumbled for his phone, snapped a selfie and sent it to his ex who wouldn't understand the full context until later. He patted himself damp with a hotel towel and stumbled to the hotel bed, flopping down on the duvet to complete the drying process.

He heard a knock at the door, "Housekeeping," but couldn't muster the energy to respond. The door opened before the traditional second announcement and he quickly decided - likely foolishly - to pretend to sleep.

"Aye, aye, aye, senor?" He felt a hand gently nudge his foot. "Senor?"

The maid found him as he lay and - in for a penny, in for a pound - he kept up the pretense, his still engorged member making a better impression that he normally had a right to expect.

"Senor?" he heard again, as the hand made its way up the inside of his calf, over his knee, and onto his thigh. She joined her finger and thumb and circled the tip of his dick, testing the depths of his apparent unconsciousness. She tentatively made a few gentle strokes before setting him back down and stepping out of the room.

He assumed he'd dodged the worst of an awkward situation but heard her return and shut the door behind her. Eyes still closed, he heard her snap on a pair of latex cleaning gloves and spooge some hand lotion into her palm.

She cradled his balls with her left hand and started stroking - professionally, dare he say - with her right. The cradling became more intense as she applied pressure, nearly clamping at times, before allowing blood to flow normally. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't last long, but he knew something she didn't - he was already essentially empty. He kept his eyes closed as she kept a steady rhythm, stopping only to spit or apply more hand lotion as necessary.

Without admitting anything to either of them, he finally acknowledged her presence, allowing a guttural moan to escape, raising his knees and putting his soles flat on the mattress. She now knew he was a willing participant and - inadvertently or not - he'd exposed his still exercised starfish with evidence of his recent activities. Now it was her time to moan and - did he hear that right - smack her lips.

She dropped everything - literally and figuratively - and he thought he'd blown his shot. He opened his eyes hoping to salvage something from the situation - even if he could only talk her into leaving extra lube - and saw her squeezing the last drops of lotion out of the bottle. She was nothing if not an attentive partner.

He saw her face behind her hands and noted she was not particularly young, fit, or attractive - but admitted to himself that right now he didn't care. She'd opened her smock and released the front clasp on her bra to let everything hang loose. Saggy tits were better than no tits, and a wet mouth was better than his dry palm.

He watched her make a phallus out of two fingers on her left hand and stroke it with her right, clearly preparing for a back door entry. He knew he was still warm but also knew that one finger had been enough just moments before. But before he could consent - or not - she pressed both fingers up against his ass and, using his cock as a joystick, started a little game he knew was called "just the tip." She entered, teased, withdrew, and re-entered, while keeping a firm grip on his penis so remaining was less painful than trying to scoot away.

Not satisfied with the tip - is anyone over a long enough period of time - he pulled himself by the feet toward her, sinking her fingers in his ass and blinding himself with the pleasure and the pain. She graciously stopped moving to allow his ass to complete its spasm on her fingers.

Once they both got used to the new normal, she resumed her ministrations and started stroking rather than gripping his dick. She had to wonder if she'd lost a step in her age but presumably satisfied herself that this wasn't his first rodeo - of the morning even - and that his experience would call for more attention.

After a few minutes of her masturbating him, she decided it was her turn. She pulled her left hand out and removed both gloves - inside out like a medical professional - and threw them on the side of the bed. She pulled another bottle of lotion from her pocket, turned around, lifted her skirt and removed her panties, spread her cheeks, and showed him his target. The idea of anal had apparently turned her on as she used the fingers that were just inside him to loosen herself up.

He pulled himself over to the side of the bed, let his legs dangle, as she positioned the head of his dick to enter her back door. She took similar safeguards with herself as she had with him, starting with the tip, allowing her heat to relax her muscles, and eventually hilting herself on his pelvic bone.

He barely had to move - she did all the hard work, fucking herself on him like he was a suction cup dildo. She rode him reverse cowgirl, biting her lip to stifle any sounds that might reveal her indiscretions. Her ample hips and thighs carved sine waves in the air as she bounced her ass up and down like a super ball.

He tried to hold out for her pleasure but was reminded of the old joke about fat chicks and mopeds - they're fun to ride unless your friends catch you on one. He knew between his fantasies of his ex wife, his memories of his escapade in the shower, and the maid's attention that he wouldn't last long.

"I'm close, I'm close," he said, hoping the words would transcend the language barrier.

She apparently got the message, as she licked her fingers and started pumping them in and out of her pussy while continuing to ride his cock. He assumed she orgasmed when her ass started spasming, causing him to shoot his load in her ass with the combined remains coming out as a coppery enema onto his lap and the bedding. He was embarrassed for a minute until he remembered she'd be responsible for cleaning up their mess.

"Lo siento," he offered.

"No pasa nada," she replied. He didn't understand the words but got the message.

"Beso?" he queried.

She smiled shyly. "No, esta bien."

He looked around and shook his head. "Por que?"

"Estoy caliente y tu eres grande," she replied.

He stepped into the shower to wash himself. When he came out she was gone and had taken the bedding with her. The rest of the room would have to wait, but she did have a schedule to keep.

Looks like he'd gotten the reciprocal anal his ex alluded to a little early.