I'm not a fag. So why was I hard from that hand playing with my ass in the crowded elevator? And who hacked my email at work to ask if I'd had a hardon? He told me not to wear underwear the next day. Bullshit. I always wore briefs. But I didn't. And he played with me again. And now he says I have to go to a video arcade at lunch, and wait for his dick to come through the hole. Bullshit. I won't. Will I?
I was inspired by the opening premise of Oliver Twist’s excellent “My double life as a whore,” where a surprise meeting in a hotel bar leads to many other things, to recount my own true story of my recent hotel bar adventure.