Room Serviced Pt. 03

"He saw your dick?"

"Shh!" Carson said. "Not so loud!"

Clarissa put her hands over her mouth and slid down behind the desk. "This is bad. Really bad. Like lose your job bad."

"He didn't seem to mind..." Carson said hesitantly.

"What? He was probably just freaked out and didn't know what to say."

Carson rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe I should go apologize."

Clarissa slid forward in her swivel chair. "No. No. No. That is the last thing you should do. You should never talk to him again if you can avoid it. Avoid getting this hotel a lawsuit. Avoid getting fired. Avoid getting me fired."

Carson felt the gravity of his situation as it weighed on him. He was silent for a moment, until he heard Clarissa giggle.

"You heard him with that girl though, right?" she asked coyly. "How was he?"

Carson smiled. "Fucking amazing."

* * *

Maybe Clarissa was right. But Carson couldn't forget the look in Mr. Armisen's eye the night he found Carson on the floor outside his hotel room, his erection fully exposed. Maybe it was funny? Maybe they could laugh about it.

Before he knew it, Carson found himself wandering back to the fourteenth floor. He had made up some flimsy excuse that he was just looking to help tidy things up. But when he knocked at the door, no one answered.

His heart sank. Fuck, Carson thought. He's gone. But he shouldn't be-Mr. Armisen wasn't supposed to check out until Wednesday (Carson knew, he had asked Clarissa). And yet, no one appeared to be home.

Carson looked around as dirty thoughts began to swirl through his mind. Maybe if he couldn't see Mr. Armisen off, he could just look around?

He pulled out his universal room key and opened the door.

Apparently housekeeping hadn't made their rounds, because the room was in total disarray. The pillows on the bed were shredded, the bedsheets stained and covered in feathers. The table had been tipped over on its side. It looked like a hurricane had hurled through the bedroom the night before.

Carson smirked. That's some good fucking, he thought.

He walked into the room and took it in like a crime scene, imagining where the lovers had flipped over and fucked throughout the evening. From the look of it, every corner of the room had been involved.

He looked up at the giant ceiling mirror bolted directly over the bed. There was something sticky speckled across it. Something silvery, and wet.

Oh fuck. That's cum.

Suddenly, he heard a sound go off from the bathroom-water running. And Carson suddenly realized he was not alone. Only a few feet away, behind the door, Mr. Armisen was showering. He started to picture it-Mr. Armisen, wet, warm, and naked.

Carson felt his penis swell in his pants at the thought of it. He grabbed at his crotch, as if that could make his erection subside. I have to get out of here, he thought.

He turned to leave, when suddenly he spied Armisen's suit slung over the back of a chair. And on the ground, a couple inches away, his underwear.

Carson's cock throbbed like a sore thumb. His mouth watered at the sight of Armisen's crumpled briefs. He was unable to resist-he leaned down and picked up the underwear. It was still warm, with a sweat stain right at the seat of his pants. The fabric had been stretched thin, probably strained by Armisen's massive thighs. And around the crotch, the cloth was stained by a couple drops of dribble.

Carson's hand trembled as he brought the underwear to his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled deep.

It was that same sexy scent he smelled on the elevator, only so much more intense, completely unbridled by that cologne. It was just his musk, sweaty and dirty and delicious. Carson moaned. He stuffed the cotton into his nostrils, taking in every bit of Armisen's smell. His mouth flooded with saliva as he imagined sucking on Armisen's giant balls, his musky hole, his tasty cock-

The sound of the water switched off.

Carson's heart nearly skipped a beat. He broke into a sweat. Mr. Armisen's wet footsteps now-stepping out of the shower, splashing the bathroom floor. Heading towards the door.

Without thinking, Carson stuffed the underwear into his back pocket. At that exact moment, Mr. Armisen opened the bathroom door.

"Hey, Mr. Armisen-" he began, ready to whip out anexcuse, but before he could finish his jaw slackened at the sight of the Adonis. Mr. Armisen stood in the doorway, backlit by the bathroom light, with nothing but a towel around his waist, the steam from the bathroom still swirling around him. Carson couldn't help but stare. He could see his powerful shoulders, his massive fuzzy arms. And his chest-two huge pecs with swollen nipples, his dark wet chest hair curly and matted. Trailing down to his perfectly chiseled abs and a treasure trail, a tuft of pubic hair teasing him from right above the towel.

"What are you doing here?" Armisen frowned, his voice deep and menacing.

"I, uh, I was just here to do some housekeeping," Carson stammered, picking up the giant's pants and folding them. "I'm so sorry, sir. I thought you were out."

"Well, can you come back later?" Armisen asked, annoyed. "I'm expecting a call."

"Sure," Carson nodded. "Just let me hang this for you."

Armisen gave him a slight nod and Carson walked past him, towards the closet. He looked over his shoulder, getting his first look at the man from behind now. He could see his chiseled back, his tapered waist and broad shoulders. He felt his eyes dip and caught the curve of Armisen's backside-firm and round, the towel dented in his crack.

Carson felt something wet hit his foot. He looked down and saw a spit droplet on his shoe. He was drooling.

Carson quickly wiped his lips before Armisen could notice. "I wanted to apologize for interrupting you the other night."

Armisen yawned. "That's okay."

Carson was disarmed by his casualness. It's okay?

"Well, I hope I didn't ruin your evening."

Armisen shrugged. "Eh. You know, it was a chill night. Nothing too exciting."

Carson eyed the cum on the ceiling mirror.

"Right," he said softly.

Mr. Armisen whipped out a cigar and lit it, cradling the flame in his giant hands. There was something so sexy about the sight of the man in his towel puffing on a cigar, his nice haircut wet and messy, his beard glittering with water droplets. Carson couldn't help but stare as the giant brought the cigar to his thick, tasty lips and inhale.

"You can't smoke in here," Carson heard himself say before he could stop himself.

The giant let out a puff of smoke, turned to him, and cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," said Carson, hanging the suit and closing the closet door. "Sorry. It's against company policy."

Mr. Armisen chuckled and stepped towards Carson. He felt himself shrink as the giant approached, his pecs bouncing ever so slightly with each step. Carson took a step back, but Mr. Armisen kept forward, until he was only inches away.

Armisen reached around Carson's back and he gasped, feeling the man's big strong hands graze his ass. For a moment he froze, unsure of whether the man would seize him. But Armisen just stepped back and held up his wrist. And there, dangling from his fingers, was the underwear that Carson had stuffed into his pocket.

"Is stealing against company policy, too?" he asked, taking a puff of his cigar.