STEAM ROOM DISASTER. PART 3

Oh shit I thought, what if…never mind.

It must have been near three or four in the morning. For sure there would be no one else using the steam room. All the normal folks were in bed. Safe and sound in their hotel rooms.

Not me though.

And not this teenage faggot.

I remained on the floor, kneeling, hands on the boy’s ass. I was unable to remove my hands, unable to stand, therefore unable to leave. My head and cock pounded. The faggot began to rub his thick bell across my face. My brain was now disconnected and no longer in charge. I opened my mouth and followed the slow swirls his bell was making. He stopped and I was able to take him.

The crime had already been committed I figured, so I might as well just…just what?

I knew what he wanted, just as I knew what was expected of my submissive role. I sucked him as deep as I could, grasping his ass tight, nudging him to the back of my throat.

“That’s a good girl,” the faggot said, loud and clear.

I winced, my god, how humiliating should someone else stumble into the steam room.

I felt his grip tighten on my head, and then to my shock, he popped his bell past my gag reflex.
Fuck sakes! The son of a bitch!

I went right to vomit mode, heaving mightily against him. I tasted hot beer and bile. He pulled out, then shoved right back in. Again I vomited against his cock head, nearly suffocating. I began to panic, and mercifully, the faggot pulled completely out.

I convulsed again, spitting a stench of liquid onto my thighs. Tears ran from my eyes and my body poured sweat.