I pulled the edge of my skirt down as I got out of the car. The hem kept riding up, exposing the lacy top of my thigh highs and the swell of skin around it. I blushed as I caught my reflection in the hotel's windows. I looked away quickly, trying to spot Michael before anyone got a good look at me.
It's not that I'm unattractive—at least, I hope it's not—but a big girl like me just doesn't quite look right in a short skirt and high heels. Michael had also asked for a "slutty" top—something cut low, maybe almost see through. I had done my best, but walking around in public dressed as I was wasn't easy.
A man on the other side of the hotel bar/restaurant area was watching me openly, having put down his newspaper to sit back and grin as I swished around tables. I swore under my breath and again readjusted my skirt. Where the hell was Michael?
I sat down at a table in the corner, far away from any of the other customers. I wondered if the hotel allowed non-guests into their "continental breakfast" area as I surveyed the poor assortment of day old bagels and crusty cream cheese. A waiter came by with a menu, though he seemed more interested in staring at my tits than helping me pick out a delicious meal.
A quick peek out of the corner of my eye allowed me to see that the gentleman was still watching me. He was actually very attractive—maybe late thirties, early forties, with hair a dirty blond color that looked almost gray. I could see that his body was in good shape, with some pudging around the waist—but then again, who was I to say anything about that? I wondered what his cock would look like, chuckling as I realized what a slut I really am.
I suddenly felt fingers on the back of my neck. I jumped, twirling around to see Michael smiling behind me. "Good morning," I said as I watched his eyes travel from the top of my head to my feet. I wondered what he was thinking.
"You look marvelous." Michael took a seat at the other side of the table; I sat down as he got comfortable. "Are you hungry?"
I shook my head. Michael signaled for a waiter as I glanced over and saw that my admirer had gone back to reading his paper. Michael ordered himself some food and ordered me a drink, then sat back to look me over again. "You really do look very good. I bet at least one of these men have a hard-on just looking at you."
I smiled. I looked over at my admirer. "The man over has been very interested in me since I came in," I confessed, looking back at Michael.
Michael looked over, his smile widening. "Oh yeah? Maybe he thinks you are a prostitute." He thought for a moment, watching the other man finish his breakfast from behind the news, then got up. "Don't move. I'll be right back."
I felt my eyes widen as I watched Michael go over to the table. I couldn't hear what either man said, but as I saw Michael sit down and point at me, I blushed. Somehow, I knew they weren't just talking about my clothes. When both men started looking at me as they chatted, their smiles getting wider, I knew I was in for a full day.
Michael returned to our table just as his food arrived. A few minutes later, the other man got up and left, giving a little wave as he left. I watched quietly as Michael ate, sipping my drink and waiting. We made idle chit chat as he finished and paid his check, then he grabbed my hand to lead me towards the room. We had the elevator to ourselves for the ride upstairs, and Michael took the opportunity to press his front into my back, wrapping his arms around me tightly to keep me close to him. He held my head to one side with one hand while wrapping the fingers from the other around my breast, biting the side of my neck and trailing his tongue from my shoulder to my ear. I grinded my ass back against his crotch, delighted in the knowledge that his cock was hard behind his zipper.
He had gotten the suite on the top floor of the hotel for the weekend, and I gasped as we entered the space. There was a small living area, a huge bathroom with a Jacuzzi, and a gigantic bedroom with a king sized bed. Each room seemed impossibly large.
Michael sat down on the sofa and motioned for me to undress. I took off my skirt and top first, but as I reached around to undo my bra, he spoke.
"No, I've changed my mind. Leave everything else on." He got up and walked towards me, moving around in a small circle to see every inch of his property. He wedged himself against my back once more, circling his hands around my waist to grab both of my tits through the lacy bra. I felt his breath on my neck a moment before he bit into my skin.
I groaned as I felt him suck and bite my neck. His hands on my tits became more and more intense, squeezing and molding the mounds of flesh until I thought I would go crazy. He reached into the cups, his lips never leaving my neck, to pinch and pull on my nipples. My hips started moving on their own accord, my ass grinding against his groin again.
"You little slut," he growled, one hand leaving my chest to grab my hair. I groaned low in my throat as he ran his teeth up and down over my skin, leaving a wet trail and goosebumps.
He suddenly moved away, leaving me to thrust my hips at empty air, desperate for his body against mine. He moved back to sit on the couch; I saw the tent his cock made in his pants and I moaned hungrily.
"Take off your bra," he commanded, and I tore it off.
"Take off your panties," he demanded, and I ripped them from my body.
I stood in front of him, clad only in thigh highs and high, high heels, my body flushed with excitement and my pussy wet with passion. And yet all he did was look at me, his eyes moving up and down. He remained quiet, still, just watching me try to fuck the blank space behind me.
He stood and walked into the bedroom. I didn't move, not having been given a command, and waited for him to come back. When he did, I saw him holding a large dildo in his hand. He sat on one end of the couch and motioned towards the other. "Sit with your legs spread and your pussy open for me."
I did as I was told, placing one foot on the back of the couch, the other on the ground. I reached down and spread my bare pussy lips, a shiver running through me as his hand came close and his fingers began massaging my skin. He slipped a few fingers inside, making me whimper with need. But as quickly as he had slid them in, he withdrew. Michael handed me the dildo and sat back. "Fuck yourself."
I ran the dildo around my pussy, making the head wet. "Come on, cunt," Michael growled impatiently. I slide the dildo into my pussy, knowing that he wasn't going to wait any longer. I began to fuck myself with long, hard strokes, each one pushing me closer and closer to exploding. I could feel my pussy tightening around the toy, my muscles squeezing its length. I began to moan, using my free hand to play with my clit. But just as I reached the edge, just as I was about to cum, Michael shoved my hands away and pulled the dildo free.
I sat panting, whimpering at how close I was, as Michael again left me to go into the other room. He came back with a length of rope and some nipples clamps. I cooed in excitement.
"Get up slut," he said, chuckling at the grin on my face. I was giddy now, knowing what he was going to do. I stood and bent forward slightly, so that my heavy tits were easily accessible. I waited patiently as Michael moved towards me, dropping the clamps onto the side table. He found the center of the rope and wrapped it around my back, making quick work of binding my tits up tightly. When I stood, my tits already turning purple from the pressure from the rope, he bent down and licked each of my nipples. I groaned loudly as they hardened, but I groaned even louder when he attached the clamps onto each side.
He tugged on the length of chain hanging between the clamps. "Get down on your knees slut," he demanded; I quickly dropped down. He undid his pants, pulling his cock out to stroke it right in front of my face. I tilted my head back, opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue. "Good girl," he said, reaching with one hand to pull my head forward to slide his cock into my mouth.
I began bobbing up and down, slathering his dick with my saliva, getting it nice and hard and wet. Michael put his hands on the back of my head, wrapping his fingers in my hair, pushing me farther and farther onto his dick with each downward movement. He kept the action at a good pace, neither fast nor slow, enjoying the sensation of my tongue and lips covering every inch of his shaft. Without looking up, I knew he was watching his dick disappearing into my mouth, and I groaned low in my throat as my pussy clenched and unclenched involuntarily.
He pulled his dick out of mouth, picking up the chain connecting the clamps and sliding his dick underneath. Michael slapped his cock against my face, each movement pulling on the clamps and making the bite a little harder. He slide this dick back into my mouth, the chain still pulled over it, forcing it down my throat. Michael pulled me as close as possible, my forehead against his stomach, his balls against my chin. He held me there, his cock popping into my throat, blocking off my air supply. I felt my fear begin to rise and I struggled a bit, but Michael held fast. "Come on, you can do this," he said. I tried to pull away, needing to breathe, but Michael held fast. Finally, I slapped his thighs, pushing back against his hands. This time, he allowed me to back up, and I rested my ass on my heels, gasping for breath.
