Naked Misadventure of Thomas Miller Ch. 01

THE NAKED MISADVENTURES OF THOMAS MILLER

An ENM Adventure by Theatreboi25

Chapter 1: Hotel Mishap

11:30 PM

33... 32... 31...

"Please don't stop. Please."

30... 29... 28...

"Oh please, please, keep going," I muttered.

27... 26... 25...

I was pleading with the little green LCD above. My eyes transfixed on the rhythmic flashing of the floor numbers as I hastily descended toward the lobby.

24... 23... 22...

Each of my senses was on heightened alert, registering every shudder and gentle rock of the car, afraid one of those changes in motion might indicate the elevator was beginning to slow. Afraid it might stop prematurely.

21... 20... 19...

"Keep going. Just keep going." I begged aloud as I stood there clutching my groin with both hands trying to hide my exposed member.

18... 17... 16...

Rationally, I knew I was alone in that elevator. Nevertheless I found myself desperate to preserve my waning modesty if only from my own naked reflection in the polished aluminum doors.

15... 14... 12...

A slight shudder.

11...

"Oh no! This is it," I thought, recognizing the change in movement as the elevator began to slow.

10...

"Too soon! Its too soon!" My stomach started churning in anticipation.

9...

In a moment the car would stop and some untold number of people would be waiting when the doors opened.

8...

I needed to think up a plan, another way out of that elevator, or a way to keep the doors from opening. I needed to think, and fast. But all I could think was "how did I get into this mess?"

Three Hours Earlier

8:30 PM

After a grueling first day at the industry's annual sales convention, I was looking forward to an exciting evening and an opportunity to 'relieve some tension,' if you catch my drift.

Sitting in the back of an Uber for a thirty-minute ride across town I shot off a couple quick text messages.

'Off the highway'

'See you soon'

I waited a few moments for a response before deciding to add an 'I've missed you.'

I had just left a team dinner with my sales staff and was headed to the Randolph on the far edge of downtown. A paragon of the art deco movement, its 38 stories are the most opulent you'll find in the city.

Ba-Ding.

I looked down at my phone.

'Meet you at the bar' was all it said.

Walking into the lobby I spotted the lounge at the back of a large multi-level atrium.

"Well, well, well," I called out sarcastically as I sauntered up behind a familiar figure drinking alone at the bar. "Look who's staying at the hoity-toity hotel, sipping on her red wine, while the rest of the team drinks Bud Light at the Holiday Inn!"

"Well, someone has to wine and dine our largest client's c-suite," replied the slightly older brunette without turning toward me. She put her drink down on the bar before snapping back,"and apparently my sales director isn't cultured enough to know the difference between a cabernet and a cosmopolitan."

"Oh, so, is that why you're VP? You can drink gin with a handful of crusty old white suits?"

"That, and I dont have French fry crumbs on the crotch of my khakis."

My eyes dropped as I started swatting at my pants with both hands; finding the fabric clean I turned black in protest, "I don't--"

"So, tell me, what brings the riffraff so far from the convention center?" She asked, cutting me off.

"If you must know, I have a--"

"Grinder hookup?"

"Funny." I responded. Noticing the wry grin curling up in the corners of her mouth, "but I will take that as a compliment. And no, I happen to be meeting up with a tall, attractive, young lady," I said as Shannon rolled her eyes at me. "Did I mention she was young? You wouldn't happened to have seen any--"

She kissed me.

"Stop talking." She kissed me again before leaning back with a smile. "I got you this," she said, sliding a pint over to me.

After a couple rounds of drinks we gave in to the urge to relocate to her room. She closed out the tab with her personal AMEX as our encounters were always strictly 'off the books,' and put the card back in her clutch.

"Shit." She said, rummaging around. "I left my room key in the rental."

We detoured through the lobby and waited at the end of a velvet rope queue as the lone young lady behind the front desk assisted an elderly couple. We, like a pair of horny teenagers reuniting at the end of a school day, couldn't wait any longer. Driven by pent up desire having gone three months since our last rendezvous, combined with a half-dozen glasses of liquid encouragement we started putting on a show in front of the reception desk.

As the old couple slowly shuffled away the associate called us over, "I can help the nexts guests."

When we failed to approach the young lady looked up from her workstation and was immediately taken aback by our unrestrained public display of affection. Unsure how best to get our attention she let out a couple mousy "excuse me's" before working up the courage for a rather unsubtle "eh-hem."

"Shannon Duer... Room 3405... Need a new room key." She said, barely able to get the words out between kisses. In a single motion she whipped out her drivers license, handed it off to the associate, then grabbed my head by my temples. She slid her fingers through the sides of my hair as she slid her tongue toward my tonsils.

"Thank you Mrs. Duer." Spotting the gaudy diamond on Shannon's finger she asked, "Will your husband be needing a key too?"

"No no, he's not my husband," she said with a grin, barely taking her lips off mine, "and he's not staying the night."

The young lady's eyes widened at the implication. She dropped her gaze to her workstation, minting one new room key as quickly as she could.

No sooner than the associate had lifted the new key off the programming pad, Shannon snatched it away and tucked it into her clutch with a hasty "thank you!"

She grabbed my tie just below the knot and gently caressed the silk between her thumb and fingers as she slid her hand down toward my navel. With a jerk she began leading me across the lobby like a dog on a leash.

"So, what did you have in mind," I asked as she pulled me into an awaiting elevator.

"I was thinking we start with room service, a bottle of champagne, and then you can do that thing with your tongue," she said with a wink as the elevator doors slid closed.

11:10 PM

"That was fun," I said opening the bathroom door, a damp towel wrapped around my waist.

Shannon didn't respond.

Glancing through the reflection of the closet mirror I could see she was already in bed. She was clad in her hotel bathrobe and fuzzy eye mask. Arms limp at her sides, her iPhone screen was still illuminated in the palm of her right hand. A bottle of Ambien sat uncapped on the nightstand beside her.

As I rounded the bed, I pulled the towel off my waist and tossed it toward the desk chair. High and to the right, it knocked the ice bucket off the corner of the desk. It made a racket as both the bucket and lid collided one after the other with the small waste bin below before crashing one-by-one onto the floor.

I winced and looked back. Shannon didn't flinch, she was out cold.

I capped the pill bottle then set her phone on a charging pad. For a moment I considered getting dressed and hailing an Uber but figured I could stay until at least 7/7:30 and still get back to my hotel without being seen by any of our colleagues. I clicked off the lights and climbed into the bed, feeling the the cool of the cotton on my bare skin as I settled between the sheets.

Just as I was starting to fade, the air conditioner whirred to life, blowing around the smell of our half-eaten dinner. While it hadn't been here long I figured the seared-raw tuna on Shannon's Niçoise salad would probably be pungent come morning. Climbing out of bed I grabbed the room service tray off the table. I didn't even consider covering myself, it would only take a few seconds to drop everything in the hallway.

The tray was large and the plethora of flatware, glassware and those stupid metal domes made it unexpectedly heavy and hard to balance. I carefully propped it across my right forearm then opened the door with my left, and stepped into the hallway keeping the door ajar with my right heel. Re-gripping the tray I bent forward to lower it to the ground. Halfway down the two champagne flutes started shifting slowly before suddenly sliding forward. I reflexively tilted the tray back towards me, taking a step to counter the sudden rotation and keep the glasses from toppling over.

It worked, they stopped sliding, and after a brief rocking settled precariously near the edge. I gently landed the tray on the hallway carpet, satisfied that I hadn't broken anything. I turned to go back inside and my heart sank realizing what I'd done; in saving the champagne flutes I was now two paces from the door.

And the door was closed.

"Shit!" I jumped back and pushed down on the handle.

Click.

I pushed a second time leaning into it with force.

Click.

"Shannon," I called out toward the peephole, trying to keep my voice down.

"Shannon, I need you to let me in." I said, knocking on the door. "Shannon. I'm in the hallway. I'm naked! I need you to let me in."

"Shannon. Shannon? Shannon!" My voice growing louder each time I called her name.

To be honest, I knew it wouldn't help; for the next six hours you would have more luck raising the dead than rousing her from her pharmaceutically-assisted slumber.

"Shit. OK. Think this through," I thought, taking stock of my situation. I was naked on the thirty-fourth floor of my bosses's hotel, but at least it was the late evening and I was, for the moment, alone. I was standing about three-quarters of the way down a single, long hallway. To my left a couple rooms down was the elevator alcove in the middle of the hall, and a stairwell on the far side of another dozen guest rooms. To my right a handful more rooms with another set of stairs on that end.

I figured I should cover myself, but the only thing in the hallway not fastened down was the room service tray littered with the remnants of our dinner. I went to grab a napkin but the only one still on the tray was smeared with ketchup.

"I really do need to lay off the fries," I thought.

I found the ice/vending nook but there was nothing useful in there. Walking towards the elevators I contemplated all the possible outcomes of riding naked down to the lobby. I figured there was a lower chance of being seen taking the stairs, but walking down 34 stories would only prolong my exposure.

When I rounded the corner to the alcove I found a courtesy phone sitting on a console past the elevators. I sighed with relief at the prospect of phoning for help and grabbed the receiver.

"Good evening, this is Scott, how may I be of assistance?"

"Hi Scott, this is Tom Miller, I am locked out of my room. Are you able to send someone up to let me in?"

"I'm sorry to hear that Mr. Miller, what's your room number?"

"3405."

I could hear him typing on the other side of the line.

"Certainly, I... Oh, um, I'm sorry, I can't assist. You'll have to visit the front desk. Have a good night."

"No, wait, you don't understand I'm--"

Click.

"Son of a Bitch!" I slammed the receiver onto the base. I took a deep breath and looked at the other buttons on the phone. I brought the receiver back to my ear.

"Room service, this is Tracy, how may I be of assistance."

"Hi Tracy, this is Tom Miller in 3405. We've finished our dinner."

"Oh, excellent, how was everything? Did you enjoy the champagne?"

"It was great," I said curtly. "Can you send someone to pick up the tray?" I requested, figuring whomever came up would be able to let me back into the room.

"Oh, of course! But we are a little backed up at the moment, if you'd like to leave the tray in the hallway we can grab it later without disturbing you. Would that work?"

"Well, shit, that's what got me into this mess" I thought. Realizing this was another dead end I just replied "sure."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, that's everything. Thanks." I hung up without waiting for a response.

Out of options I pressed the down button to call an elevator.

Stepping inside I hit "L" and prayed the car would descend all the way to the lobby without stopping for more passengers. I stood there, covering myself like an idiot, watching the numbers slowly tick down. The car was cruising through the twenties, and into the upper-teens, but after the 12th floor the car shuddered and rocked, a sudden change in inertia that told me it was slowing and that the doors would open to other hotel guests long before it reached my destination.

I looked around frantically. What was I going to do? What could I even do? I focused on the control panel and my eyes went to the emergency stop. I started to reach toward the button before a vision of me naked and greeting members of the local fire department invaded my thoughts. I looked up and saw an access panel on the ceiling. If I weren't completely panicked I would have laughed at the thought that I had the upper body strength to get up there without a ladder. What a sight that would be, the doors opening with me stuck halfway out, struggling to pull myself up, as my dick dangled at eye level.

The elevator was passing the ninth floor and was about to tick to the eighth when I took a guess and smashed the "7" button. The elevator lurched to a standstill; I felt a twinge of relief, assuming such a sudden stop meant it was destined for the sixth floor after all.

Ding.

The hairs on my arm stood on end as the doors started to rumble open. Sweet relief, there was no one staring back at me. I took one very timid step out into the hallway and paused to catch my breath as the elevator doors slid closed, clapping shut just behind my behind. I decided it would be best if I walked the rest of the way down. As I crept gingerly toward the hallway, the soft gray carpet tickled the bottoms of my bare feet as it muffled the sounds of my footsteps. Cautiously, I peered around the corner first to my right, then the left; satisfied the coast was clear I set off in a light jog toward the closer of the two staircases.

As I rounded the landing halfway between the fourth and third floors I noticed the placard at the next door was labeled "SPA & GYM."

"There has to be a towel there," I thought to myself. I stepped back into the hall seeking the entrance to the spa.

I arrived at a pair of glass doors emblazoned Le Nu Spa leading to a darkened lobby. Holding my face close to the glass my eyes slowly scanned the room past the receptionist podium and the typical displays of oils and lotions. At the back of the lobby, awash in the gentle red glow of an emergency exit sign, was a hamper of freshly folded towels sitting in front of the locker room doors!

I grabbed the door and pulled. It was locked. I shook the handle in frustration and the glass panel wobbled ever so slightly. I pulled again with all my might hoping to pop the door loose, but it shuddered as the locking pins banged against their sheaths.

Defeated but still hopeful, I turned to find the gym.

Halfway down the hall, sitting just opposite a row of rooms was a single glass door between two plate glass windows on either side, all frosted, so I couldn't see in. I tried the handle and for the third time tonight found myself stuck naked on the wrong side of a locked door.

I walked along the frosted windows trying to make out what was inside when a shifting shadow froze me in my tracks. A blurry figure, gently bouncing in a steady and continuous motion.

My heart lifted when I realized there was someone jogging inside.

"Hello?" I knocked on the glass. "Hello, can you let me in?"

Their gait remained unchanged. I knocked harder.

"Hey, can you hear me? Can you let me in? I'm locked out."

Nothing.

"Who the fuck runs for fun?" I blurted out, postulating I was behind the back of some AirPod-wearing asshole on a treadmill.

While trying to get their attention, I had unconsciously progressed from tapping with my knuckles to banging on the glass with the open palm of my hand. It took a few good whacks before I realized how much noise I was making. I spun around looking up and down the hallway to make sure I was still alone when I noticed light spilling out from under the guest-room door directly behind me.

"Oh Shit," I thought, "was that there before?"

I froze. I watched the door for a moment and listened intently, hoping for any indication that that light wasn't shining because of me. As I stared nervously, a sudden shadow obstructed the glow coming thru the peephole. Then a pair of elderly voices in tense conversation.

I couldn't hear much, but the word I did make out, "security," sent me into a fresh panic. Deciding that was not a confrontation I wanted this evening, I took off once again for the stairs, abandoning any hope of finding a towel before heading to the lobby.

Rounding the last landing on the staircase the door was missing from the far wall where it had previously been on every other floor. When I reached the ground level, I found it instead on the righthand side of the stairwell, a prominent placard stating "EXIT TO STREET - NO LOBBY ACCESS." I was crestfallen, my plan of sneaking up to the reception desk completely dashed. I would have to go back up a floor or two and take the elevator after all, and be deposited on the far side of the crowded lobby.

I headed back up the stairs. While I was fairly certain the ballrooms on Level 2 were empty at this hour, I didn't want to take any more chances. Especially considering how my luck was unfolding this evening. I also decided to bypass Level 3, in case security was there responding to the complaint from the folks I had awoken. Reaching level 4, I stepped back out into the hall and sprinted to the elevators.

Ding.

I drew in a deep breath and waited as the elevator doors started to open. What had been my worst fear, so far tonight, had came true. A chorus of gasps marked the sudden and startling end to the handful of conversations taking place in the car. What replaced them was a stunned silence and facial expressions ranging from irritation to incredulity.

"Good evening," I said giving a little head nod as I stepped forward to join them, hoping that if I ignored the obvious they would too.

Turning my back to the other passengers I took one hand off my crotch and rapped on the close door button with my finger. Seemingly unmoved by my impatience, the doors waited until I was well and truly done tapping before they re-emerged from their hiding place and slid closed.

The three floor ride was an eternity unto itself. I could feel the more than half dozen pairs of eyes molesting my body with their gaze. A new sense of shame washed over me as they whispered to one another as though I were only spectacle, and not a person in distress standing only inches away, capable of listening to their every word. There was speculation of my circumstances, a comment about the freckles on my ass, mild outrage over the 'obscenity of it all,' a dare to proposition me.

"I told you, you weren't underdressed" joked a man to his companion in the back corner of the elevator, in a voice likely not as quiet as he intended. An elderly woman in the opposite corner snorted with laughter, cutting the tension ever so slightly.