The sounds he’s making are like a drug and all I can think about is making sure I catch him before he leaves so we can do this in person, in a room, all fucking night long.
“Oh, Fuck. Fuck, I’m close,” I hear him spit out as he frantically taps the wall. I smile even wider at the fact that he’s done his homework and knows the etiquette, but I don’t give a fuck about getting a warning.
I. Want. Everything.
Curling my hand around his shaft, I wrap my lips over the crown, flatten my tongue behind the length, and push my head forward until the tip breaches the back of my throat again. Breathing through my nose, I swallow, tightening around the thick crown and he moans, still frantically tapping on the wall.
“Mmmm, fuck, fuccccck.” His tone is dripping with so much lust and anger. “I’m…I’m coming,” he stutters through a heavy breath.
A hot burst of salty liquid blankets my mouth and I moan with every pulse.
Pulling out, I lick and suck, cleaning every ounce of what he gave me with so much pride. Not because I pleased him but because I love this experience for him and I hope it was good enough to stop hating himself.
Pulling further away, I throw my head back and smile, satiated and happy.
That was unbelievable.
Glancing down at myself, I’m still naked and dirty from myorgasm earlier and chuckle. I reach over, grabbing a towel from the shelf to wipe myself off.
“Well, I can honestly tell you that was the best handjob I’ve ever had in my life.” You can hear the smile in my words with my confession. There’s no response, not that I expected one, but it’s eerily silent so I look up and glance through the hole to make sure he’s not berating himself.
A burst of cool air hits my skin as I peer through and my face falls. His door is wide open, a green hue now lighting the empty space.
4
DANE
I’ve never hated the color green more than I do now. Seeing that color drenching the room after feeling so high makes me see red. And not the red I wanted.
I raced out of the building, frantically looked around the parking lot and found it to be empty and desolate. I poked around a bit, peered into some of the cars and finally left feeling pissed and frustrated.
I know exactly what a glory hole is for. Anonymity at its finest—to literally and physically hold the skeletons in your closet, but for whatever stupid reason I didn’t want to stop with him.
As I walk back to the hostel, I scold myself. I should have withheld an orgasm from him, forced him to give me his name and number. He probably would have just left, but fuck I hate how I feel right now.
I’ve never left feeling unsatisfied or wanting more. That’s not what the club is for. The purpose is to get off, enjoy yourself, and leave. Something I’ve always wanted and reveled in, so why can’t I get over this?
Entering through the hostel lobby I waveat Sally, who graciously checked me in earlier. She glances in my direction and I smile, contradicting my current frustration, then turn toward the hallway and take the stairs two at a time to the second floor where the rooms are.
This hostel has two large rooms with eight beds each and two separate bathrooms. There was a group of four checking out earlier when I got here but no one else had checked in yet.
Using my room key, I scan it over the reader and it buzzes with a green light, unlocking the door.
Every hostel is completely different. I love this one specifically because of the square footage they provide in the bedrooms. A majority of them have very minimal space since most of the people renting them are just looking for a place to sleep for a night. So, when I found this one I was pleasantly surprised and immediately in love.
Bunk beds line the brick walls that are evenly placed between the windows. The beds are immaculate every time I’ve been here and the soft linen scent gives you a sense of comfort that most of the overnight rooms don’t have.
Along with all of that, there’s a table in the middle of the room surrounded by bean bag chairs and a small kitchenette in the corner where you can heat up your food.
I glance around the room as I walk into it, completely empty and eerily quiet. It’s the first time I think I’ve ever been inside one without anyone else in it.
My heart does that weird thing it’s been doing, sinking to the bottom of my stomach and I expand my chest as I take in a deep breath.
I’ve always enjoyed and wanted—hell, admittedly needed—the company of others. I meet new people every time I travel and most often end up traveling with them until our time runs out and I meet another person or group to spend time with. It’s how I’ve spent my adult life traveling. Hell, my entire adult life in general has been spent this way.
This is one of the reasons why I love hostels so much, I’m never alone and there’s always something new and exciting.
So, being here in the silence of a mammoth room with no one else overwhelms me with a loneliness that I don’t often feel, something that’s never bothered me until recently.
