The Missing Blanket
The business trip had been tedious until we reached the hotel. Iván and Mariño, colleagues who shared a professional respect and a hidden, simmering tension, found themselves sharing a room. When the night chill set in, they discovered a blanket was missing. After a fruitless call to the front desk and a glance at the cold courtyard separating them from the administration, they gave up on the request.
“You won’t sleep well in just clothes,” Mariño suggested, his voice low and inviting. “Why don’t you come over here and share mine?”
Iván didn’t hesitate. As he slid into the narrow bed, his heart hammered against his ribs. The space was tight, forcing their bodies to align. As they settled, the warmth of Mariño’s curves pressed firmly against him. The air in the room felt thick with an unspoken invitation.
Driven by a sudden surge of boldness, Iván reached out beneath the covers, his hand finding the firm, rounded contour of Mariño’s backside. He expected a recoil, but instead, Mariño gripped his hand, squeezing it firmly. With a soft groan, Mariño shifted, sliding his pajamas and boxers down to expose himself to the cool air and Iván’s burning gaze.
Iván moved with the hunger of a predator, stripping quickly. He pressed his hardness between Mariño’s cheeks, the friction sending jolts of electricity through his spine. Mariño let out a low, melodic moan that shattered Iván’s composure. He began to move, his breath hot against the nape of Mariño’s neck, tasting salt and desire.
As the heat intensified, Iván guided himself toward the tight, welcoming heat of Mariño’s entrance. With a slow, deliberate push, he broke through the resistance. Mariño gasped, a sound of pure surrender and pleasure. Iván didn’t stop, driving deeper with each rhythmic thrust, filling him completely. The sensation was overwhelming—a perfect, tight fit that felt like it had been destined since the day they met.
They moved in a frantic, synchronized dance, the bed creaking under the weight of their passion. Iván whispered praises into Mariño’s ear, his voice a rough growl, while Mariño arched his back, taking every inch of him with an eager intensity. The pleasure peaked in a crescendo of gasps and tight grips.
“I’m close,” Iván groaned. Mariño urged him to finish against his skin. With a final, powerful surge, Iván released himself, the warmth of his climax marking them both. In the quiet aftermath, they shared a deep, lingering kiss, their bodies entwined and exhausted.
The next morning was draped in a professional silence. However, as Iván reached under the bed for his shoe, he spotted it: the missing blanket, tucked away in a hidden corner. Mariño had orchestrated the entire encounter. Iván smiled to himself, wondering when their next trip would be, hoping the weather would be just as cold.