"I'll keep the key, sure. Thanks!"

He tugs the keyring off his wrist - it has one of those plastic wristbands attached to it - and leaves it on the little table, then leaves the room, giving you a wave, closing the door behind him. You lie there for a little while, smiling to yourself, then roll over onto your side and see that there's still quite a few little bottles on the table beside the bed. You take the towel, wiping most of the spunk and lube from your body - though some is still leaking out of your ass - and consider.

You remember your walk into the spa. There was a hot-tub, and a steam room, and the showers, of course. There was also that huge guy with the massive dick who had his door open, Butch, or Bull, or something, the daddy said they called him. You assume leaving the door open was an invitation for anyone to come in. You look at the door to this room, currently closed. It's your room now. You bite your lip, considering. It's been long enough for anyone to get clean in the shower now, so you're probably on your own.