Flip flops, but not

As I was walked away from his hotel room, I stared at my flip flops. They're a pair of really worn out Reefs. The leather is soft and has stretched and lengthened out away from the soles from the extended use, so I noticed that I'm squinching my toes together afraid that my feet will fling it across the hall if I don't. Squinched tight. Holding it in place as I walk. Footsteps of sustained, tense muscle contractions.

The guy I just fucked advertised himself as a "bi top" on the headline of his Grindr profile. He probably is a top most of the time. We were both staying at the same hotel and I actually had double-booked play dates the previous night so all we had were like five minutes of jostling about before I jerked him off. He wanted to play again, but had an early morning flight. Fine by me. I'm a morning person. So he wedged a card in the doorjamb and I snuck in and woke him up this next morning with my cock sliding up and down his ass with only spit as lube. I fucked him with just our natural juices. When I came, his back was arched and his hips slightly raised with his legs splayed far apart. He was begging for my load as I fucked.

His room was completely blacked out so I'm sure he slept longer than he intended. He's not gonna have much time before he leaves for the airport, so I left him there panting with my load buried deep in his ass. And as I walked back to my room, scrunching up my toes, I imagine his ass doing the same as he walks down the long corridors of the airport, tightening up trying to keep my load in so it doesn't make a visible mess leaking out into his pants. Muscles of strained contraction as he walked. And when I finally opened up Grindr later that night, he left a trail of messages over the course of hours like long steps, each pregnantly laden with the same tension of consuming, sustained lust.