Haunted Ch. 01

Story Info
A first for the author - written with women readers in mind.
1k words
4.06
20.4k
5

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 08/18/2007
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It was not late when I arrived at my hotel that evening, but night came quickly to those northern latitudes at that desolate time of year and frosty darkness cloaked the thick, leafy borders and high hedges of the hotel grounds. I was booked-in by a quiet, busty blonde. It had been a long day; training had been intense and if she gave an appraising glance to the dark, athletic guest in soiled sports gear then I was too tired to notice. I wanted room, shower and bed in that order. Unusually -- for I am fastidious about such things -- I had not showered directly after the session, eager to get to my lodgings. I had waved goodbye to the boys; leaving them to their banter as they vanished bare-arsed into the steamy envelope of the wash rooms and shouldering my bag I left them to it.

"Room 302 sir, on the third floor. Turn left out of the lift and through the double doors. Breakfast is served in the restaurant from seven until nine-thirty in the morning." The girl gave a small, tight-lipped smile dimpling her cheeks. As she leaned forward to push the heavy key across the counter, her blouse fell open slightly, revealing her ample breasts. Where the plump flesh nestled into the restraining fabric of her brassiere I glimpsed the smooth pink skin texture and darken.

In the cramped confines of the lift I stretched and massaged the aching muscles of my neck and shoulders. If I had been with someone -- and they had asked me -- I might have confessed then to a feeling of apprehension, a slight thrill of unease through my tired body. As it was, it passed almost unnoticed striking me as nothing out of the ordinary. This was an old building, eighteenth or perhaps even seventeenth century and you never knew quite what you were going to get, accustomed as we all are now to the bland homogeny of modern hotel chains. I walked the dark and antiquely furnished hallway to my room, fumbling for a minute with a stiff lock before stepping through the warped and creaking door.

Whew! The room was like a furnace! I threw my bag into a corner and groped for the light switch, already starting to remove my clothes. In the glow of fake oil-lamps I drew off my shirt, kicked off my trainers and slid my shorts and boxers down my legs, stepping out of them I crossed to the window. I opened the casement and stood for a moment, letting the chill night air raise goose bumps over my chest and over the ridged muscles of my naked abdomen.

Heading for the bathroom, I absorbed the details of the room. It seemed fine -- opulent even, with no trace of the neglect or decay that I had quietly feared. The hard surfaces gleamed, the carpets were soft and thick, the decor tasteful if darker and more sombre than was the fashion. Dominating the room was a huge bed, crisp and clean looking with thick covers and an imposing wooden headboard. As a nod to modernity a TV, phone and PC were perched upon a huge sideboard facing the bed; mute, blank voyeurs; waiting, expectant.

The hiss of the shower, the smell of scented soap and the bliss of the hot water against my skin, I lathered-up quickly and then rinsed off slowly beneath the powerful jet. I could feel my body begin to unwind as the suds cascaded from my head and shoulders down my back into the tight fold of my buttocks.

I turned off the shower and reached for a towel, looking to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror opposite. White towelling brushed over hard, tanned skin feeling soft and warm but the mirror was steam-clouded and opaque. Soon though, as moisture condensed enough to trickle down the glass I was revealed; broad shoulders, lean hips and my long, thick cock swinging heavily between my thighs with every movement.

My size has always been the subject of friends' and team mates' dubious wit but, sincerely, I have always been a little shy of it. I was twenty-four years old, at the time, from a sheltered background. From age fifteen, sport had dominated my life and I had only had five lovers -- two of those one-night stands. But none of them, with either relish or apprehension or a delicious mixture of both, had failed to appreciate my fullness.

Thoughts of past loves stirred me. Briefly I glanced to the basin where the little jars of complimentary lotions stood in a row. It was a habit of mine occasion to take advantage of lotion, mirror and solitude to masturbate; slowly working my hand over my smooth cock, watching it swell and rise, teasing it with soft touches around the shining head and then pumping it, working it hard from the base, seeing how my balls swung with the firm motion. At such times I would admire my length and girth and indulge myself fully as I waited for the intense, thigh-trembling release and the welcome flood, spattering onto polished marble.

But that evening tiredness ruled and shaking my head at my reflection I walked to the bedroom.

Intense cold hit me like a physical barrier making me shiver, making my nipples tighten to tiny, prickling knots. What was happening? The room had been stifling just minutes before.

"Please, my lord..."

As I closed the casement I thought I heard a voice, a woman's voice; accented and breathless with longing. Perhaps a TV in an adjacent room...

Still shivering with the inexplicable plunge in temperature I drew on a pair of silk shorts to cover my nakedness. Not loose but not overly tight, the sheer material stretched over my hips and enfolded my manhood, clinging to my skin where it was still wet from the shower. With the window closed the atmosphere improved and, at last, I lay upon the bed in cool, creaking silence.

to be continued...

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AnonymousAnonymousover 15 years ago
fair but then your good

loved the details loved them but then it was very evil for me to be left hanging i see another i will read it next but just had to say. you kept the reader reading :) it was great ...-LJ

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