I travel a lot. Hotels blur together. Same beige walls, same bad art, same polite smiles at the front desk. But there is one thing I always check before I unpack. Overnight staff.

If a hotel keeps bell or valet staffed all night, it usually means one thing. Young guys. Bored. Restless. Far too much ego and far too little supervision.

I have found more than once that a last minute toy is only a phone call away.

Last weekend it was the night bell staffer. Mid twenties. Cute in that cocky way. A little too sure of himself. The kind who thinks he’s doing me a favor just by showing up with extra towels.

So I kept calling.

Forgot my charger. Needed ice. Couldn’t work the thermostat. Every excuse was thin and obvious, but he came anyway. Each time I opened the door a little slower. A little less dressed. A little closer to him when I spoke.

By the third trip he was staring at my mouth instead of my eyes.

I let the silence stretch. Let him feel it. Let him wonder what would happen if he stepped just a little further inside.

He did.

It never takes long once they cross that line. Confidence melts fast when a woman stops asking and starts directing.

I told him to close the door.

I told him to step closer.

I told him to pull down his pants.

There was a pause. A flicker of hesitation. Then obedience. Belt undone. Fabric sliding down. Breath shallow.

I told him to bend over.

He did.

I ran my hand over him slowly, not rushing. Letting him feel how completely he had handed control over. I pressed my fingers against him, testing, and felt him tense. Then relax.

“I am going to fuck this now,” I told him calmly.

That was the moment his cocky attitude vanished entirely.

I pushed him onto the bed and took my time. I always travel prepared. Lube. Harness. A toy that makes a very clear statement.

He watched me get ready. No bravado left. Just anticipation and nerves.

When I positioned myself behind him, he didn’t argue. When I pressed forward, he didn’t pull away.

He did cry out when I was fully inside him. Loud. Surprised. But he didn’t stop me. He adjusted. He breathed. He took it.

And he took me for quite awhile.

Some men fight. Some men panic. This one leaned into it. Natural. Responsive. Almost eager once he realized what it felt like to be used properly.

By the end he wasn’t the cocky bellboy anymore. He was flushed, shaken, and looking at me like he’d just discovered something about himself he couldn’t unlearn.

I dismissed him with a small smile and a final instruction to clean himself up and get back to work.

Oh, and yes.

I kept his tight little pair of Calvin Klein briefs as my memento.

A reminder that the night shift can be very productive if you know how to manage your time.

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