Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2013 12:52:18 +0000 From: Lamort DeLioncourt Subject: St. Moritz--Badrutt?s Palace Hotel Chapter 13 St. Moritz--Badrutt's Palace Hotel Chapter 13 Once out of the shower, I dried John with one of the sumptuous Egyptian cotton towels the hotel provided. I dried his hair and torso, and took an extra moment to dry under his foreskin and couilles. After that, I dried his legs and feet. He went into the bedroom to dress, and I finished drying myself. As I went into the bedroom, I saw that John was on his phone, and using his gruffest, most authoritarian tone with the caller. John did not normally take work related phone calls while on vacation with me, so I knew that something serious was brewing. I grabbed one of the robes, and slipped into it. He listened to his caller for a minute, and then directed him to meet him in the bar of the hotel in 30 minutes. I knew better than to pry into John's business, so I kept my mouth shut while inside I was screaming "Tell me, Tell me". I did so want to know what was going on. John disengaged the phone and returned it to his pocket. He apologised for having to interrupt our time together. He then added that his immediate attention was required. He then, most uncharacteristically, looked at me and told me that the CEO of the company he had just bought out was trying to change the terms of the agreement, or else he would not sign the contract. John's face took on a most menacing look, and he told me he would take care of this little weasel, "Sans plus tarder" (Without delay). It was never a good thing for someone to cause John to use French to describe the solution to a problem. John immediately began to undress, and I went to the closet to assist him getting the clothes he needed for this meeting. Anyone who knew John or had business dealings with him knew that how he dressed for a meeting was an indication of how the meeting would go, and how flexible he would be in his negotiations. I asked him which shirt and tie he wanted, and he indicated the white silk shirt and the black silk tie. I then asked which suit, and he told me he wanted the black Armani suit, black hose, and his black Armani Italian shoes, then he went back into the bathroom to shave. I quickly gathered his clothes and laid them out on the bed. When I retrieved his shoes from the closet, I noticed some scuff marks on them. I called Jacques and told him I needed John's shoes polished, dressed, and back to me in 15 minutes. In a flash, the femme de chambre was at the door to pick them up. John finished shaving, and came back to the bedroom wearing only black silk boxers. I helped him into his shirt, and buttoned him in. I put his gold cufflinks into place and secured them. Next, I draped the tie around his neck and knotted it in his usual double Windsor. Then I assisted him into his slacks. He chose a black leather belt with a bright gold buckle designed with his company`s logo. I got the belt on him and fastened. I asked him to sit on the bed so I could get his black hose on, while praying that the shoes would arrive in the next two minutes. As I finished up with his hose, Jacques knocked at the door, let himself in, and handed me the freshly dressed shoes. The shine was magnificent. I got the shoes on him and tied. He stood and walked to the floor length mirrors in the dressing area and reviewed his appearance. He nodded approvingly and thanked me for my help. When he turned around, he had the most menacing appearance I had ever seen on him. I had never seen him in this particular business attire before. It was obvious that this manner of dress intended to frighten and intimidate an opponent. Quite honestly, it frightened me. I saw Jacques looking at him, but he was speechless, saying nothing. John nodded at Jacques, kissed me lightly on the cheek, and told me he would return in less than an hour. He also asked me not to go into the bar while he was there, conducting his meeting. He then told me he would return within an hour. I told him I would of course honor his request and remain in the suite until he returned. With that, John turned on his heel and exited through the door. Jacques and I just stood looking at each other. All I could think of was that I was glad I was not the man John was going to meet. I sat down on the settee, and Jacques poured me a glass of chilled wine. As I slowly sipped it, Jacques quietly let himself out. I moved over in front of the fireplace and sat down on the soft rug. The fire was quite small, and provided little heat to the room. I thought about calling the reception desk, but decided against it. I was in no mood to have one of the maintenance staff in the room seeing to the fire. That would have meant getting up and putting on some clothes. I was very comfortable in the robe and intended to stay that way. I got my wine flute and sat staring at the dying fire. My mind was racing, attempting to digest the incident I had just experienced with John. While sitting, deeply in thought, I heard the passkey in the door. Jacques came into the room with a maintenance cart in tow, covered with a corduroy drape emblazoned with the hotel seal. Jacques looked over at me and told me he had knocked several times, but I had not respond. Since he knew I was alone in the room, he had used his passkey. He pushed the cart over to the fireplace, removed the drape, and unloaded the wood hidden under it. He stacked it neatly on both sides of the fireplace. He then set to work rebuilding the fire. In no time at all, the fire was once again cheerfully blazing, filling the room with its delightful heat. When he finished, Jacques asked if we were staying in for dinner, or eating at the restaurant. If we were dining out, he would make us a reservation in the restaurant. I explained that I had never seen John like this and had no idea what to do. He smiled at me and told me he would go ahead and make the reservation in the hotel restaurant just in case. I thanked him for his thoughtfulness, and returned my gaze to the fire. From behind me, I heard Jacques let himself out. A short time later, I heard a key in the lock, and looked over to see John letting himself into the suite. The scowl and menacing look were no longer on his face, but he was not smiling. He made his way over to me, and when he reached me, he grabbed the back of the robe and pulled me to my feet. I did not know how to react, and while I was deciding what to do, John kissed me passionately on the lips and neck. When he was finished kissing me, he dropped me gently to the floor. He stood next to me, and started stripping out of his clothes, letting them fall to the floor is a disheveled pile. Once naked, he headed to the shower. He called back to me to have every piece of clothing cleaned, as he could not stand the smell of vermin on his clothing. I called down to the reception desk and requested immediate laundry service. As I hung up the telephone, I could hear John starting the water in the shower. In a matter of a couple of minutes, there was a knock on the door. I pulled my robe up around me and answered the door. Standing there was a delightful looking young man, dressed in a hotel uniform. He told me he was from the laundry to pick up some articles of clothing for cleaning. He had a plastic laundry bag with him, so I directed him to the pile of clothes on the floor. He scooped them up, asked when they needed to be back, and headed to the door. I told him I would like to have the clothes back first thing in the morning. He indicated that he understood, and went out the door. It was only after I turned around and headed back to the fire that I realised my robe had been partially open and my pénis had been on display for the laundry boy to see. I hoped I had not offended him. Just after the laundry boy had departed, John came into the living room wearing his shower robe. He neglected to tie it around his waist. His skin was still wet from his chest to his feet. I so loved his beautiful body. His pénis was semi-erect, with the foreskin just starting to retract. He looked hungrily at me, and drew closer. I rose up on my knees, anticipating the need to fellate him. When he finally reached me, he took hold of his maleness, completely retracted the foreskin, and proceeded to rub his glans across my lips. This action left no question as to what John wanted from me. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue out so he would have a place to slide his head across. Rather than play with my tongue, he forcefully guided his now completely erect tool into my open mouth. He pushed until his pubic hair was against my nose and chin. He held himself there for a few moments, making grunting noises. Realising that I needed to breathe, he withdrew from my throat, but kept his glans in my mouth. After a brief chance to catch my breath, he began a near frantic pounding of my mouth and throat. I felt him stretching and pulsing, and quickly thought that he might prematurely ejaculate. John rarely lost control of his ejaculation, so I was most surprised when he did in fact begin shooting his semen down my throat and filling my mouth. I took his load as I always did, swallowing in time with his pumping. I prided myself on not losing a drop of semen from my lips. Once his ejaculation concluded, I continued to gently suck and tease him. He did not withdraw immediately, instead letting me play with him for a few minutes. He took longer than usual to soften, but once he was completely soft he slowly withdrew. As he backed away from me, I cleaned him up the best I could. Once he sat down on the settee, he apologised for prematurely ejaculating, explaining that whenever he had to harshly deal with a business associate, he almost always shot his load too soon. He explained that he did not usually engage in sex with a partner after these types of meetings, preferring to masturbate privately. He thought it was a reaction to forcing a subordinate to take an action they did not want to do, a power trip as it were. He extended his hands to me, and helped me up from the floor. I sat down next to him on the settee, snuggling next to him while he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. We sat looking out the French doors onto the balcony enjoying the view. I then realised that the storm had blown itself out and the snow had stopped falling. The moonlight was brilliantly reflected by the freshly fallen snow, giving everything an ethereal look. As we sat there, he leaned into me and gave me one of his most passionate kisses. At that moment, I felt incredibly sheltered, and loved. I asked John if he wanted to dress and go to dinner, or if he preferred to order in. He looked over at me, and with a smile told me he wanted to have dinner, "Au naturel". Room service it would be! As we all know, Nifty Archive needs donations to remain a viable source of entertainment. If you enjoy reading, the stories posted here, and if you can, please make a donation to help keep Nifty going. Please donate any amount you can to: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.