THIS IS PART 2 OF MY STORY, SURPRISE. I RECOMMEND READING PART 1 FIRST SO YOU KNOW THE BACK STORY. ENJOY!
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She left me at my car as she returned to work, and before the engine even started my cock was growing painfully in its cage with the thoughts of what might happen that night. And apparently it was not just going to be any night, because on the way home I got a text message from her:
I reserved us a room at the Marriott on 1st St. Go straight there and check in. Wait for me. I know you don't have any extra clothes or anything with you, but don't worry...you won't need them.
I swallowed hard, wondering what the hell she had up her sleeve. Whatever it was, I wasn't going to screw it up, so I drove to the hotel and checked into a beautiful second floor room with a king bed and a balcony. And I waited.
As the time ticked by, I watched some TV and read the magazines in the room, but was constantly distracted by my thoughts. My hand kept dropping between my legs, trying in vain to rub myself to an erection, but instead just making the my cock even more frustrated as it pressed again the rigid confines of the device containing it.
Finally, after about two hours, I heard the door unlock and swing open. I turned to see my girlfriend there, grinning, holding a bag in her hand. Without much fanfare --- or a single word -- she pulled something black from the bag and dropped it on the floor, then walked straight into the bathroom and closed the door. From inside she yelled to me, "Take off all your clothes. Everything. Then put on the shorts I brought you."
I looked at the black fabric she'd dropped and realized they were actually a pair of tight, spandex bike shorts. I still had no idea what her plan was, but I stripped out of my clothes and pulled them on, the tight stretch fabric clinging to the plastic encasement that held my dick. I sat on the bed to wait for her, and it didn't take her long to finish whatever she was doing. When she emerged from the bathroom, still carrying her bag, I was expecting her to be decked out in some sort of hot, fetish-y type outfit. Instead, she was dressed relatively normally β a low-cut shirt, tight jeans , flip flops, and, my favorite, sunglasses. She looked hot, but nothing out of the ordinary.
"Follow me," she said, walking past me without a second glance and toward the sliding balcony door.