Interlude 3 77

Interlude 3

The hotel encounter was 4 weeks in the past. She had recovered from the evening, at least physically. Her head was still wrapped around what happened, and she found herself day dreaming back to that evening far too often...

She wonders what, if anything, is next.

It is Thursday afternoon, back at the office after another boring lunch. She checks her email. There's a weird one. Opening it up, its from Southwest Airlines. It's her confirmation for a flight to New Orleans Friday evening. What the hell? She doesn't have any flight plans. But it is her name. Maybe just SPAM, or maybe someone is playing a joke. Oh well, too busy to mess with it now.

Ten minutes later, a ding. Opening up the email program, there's a new one. This one's from the Royal Sonesta, confirming her reservation. OK, what the hell is going on? Then, a light bulb goes off. It has to be him ... doesn't it?

Friday evening, 7:55pm, the wheels hit the runway at Louis Armstrong Airport. She doesn't know what she's doing here. She doesn't know if it was him who set this up, or someone pulling a joke. Oh well, the ticket was paid for, and the hotel reservation was paid for, so if nothing else, she's got an evening to get plastered and not worry about driving. Down the stairs to baggage claim, and there is a limo driver holding a sign with her name on it. Do I take it? What the heck. She had packed light – not knowing what was going on, and the heat of the season called for not a whole lot of heavy clothes.

Limo was a comfortable one, the 15 minute ride into the Quarter seemed to take forever. What is going on? She suspected, but didn't know for sure. She did know that the anticipation was getting to her – hopefully the limo driver hadn't noticed her nipples straining against the thin top she had worn.

Check in at the Sonesta, they've already got her in and hand her the key. The Presidential Suite! Well, this is certainly turning into something different. Up the elevator, round the corner, key into the lock, and the door swings open. Not the biggest suite she's ever seen, but very nice. King sized bed, fan running slowly over it. She wheels her bag in, and swings it up onto the bed to unload it. Then she notices the bottle over on a table. Walking over, she notices that it's blackberry wine. OK, it's probably him. A few people know about me being hooked on the stuff, though. There's a note.

"Be at the front of the hotel at 10:15 sharp. Dress appropriately (you will find appropriate is in the dresser and closet)."

She walks over and opens the closet, and hanging there is a black dress. She pulls the hanger down, and holds the dress up to her frame in front of the closet door mirror. Slinky, smooth, spaghetti strap black cocktail dress. Knee length, fitted, very expensive. She looks at the tag. Nailed the size perfectly! She lays it down on the bed, and checks the top drawer of the dresser. Yep ... definitely him ...

A quick shower to clean off the trip, and she walks over in front of the full length mirror. OK, let's see just what he's picked out. Strapless bra, but with a twist. It's a half cup. She hooks it up, turns it around, and pulls it up under her breasts. Perfect, she guesses ... the cups stop right underneath her nipples. Lift, but no cover up. You dirty minded boy... There are no panties ... OK, she wonders what that's all about.

OK, where are the? Right there. Black, back seamed. She rolls them onto her legs, one at a time. Very smooth. She could see why he liked them, how they felt as her legs slid together. She took the dress, pulled it over her head, and let it slip down into place. A little wiggle to get it to sit just right. Where are the shoes? Oh, in the drawer. Pulling them out, she checks the size, again right on. They are beautiful black pumps, but they look like they're at least 5 inches tall. She slides them on, and stands before the mirror. Yes, they'll be a little awkward to walk in, but as she turns in front of the mirror she has to admit that they make her ass look awfully good!

10:12, time to go. Down to the lobby and out to the street. There's the limo guy again, holding the same sign with her name on it. She smiles at him, he opens the door. She steps up as he holds her hand, steadying her on the tall heels. It is a ways up – it is one of those full sized Hummers – not the extra length job, but maybe twice as long as a normal one. It is black, of course.

The door closes, she sits, and he is sitting across from her. They just look at each other for 30 seconds or so, then he moves over in front of her on his knees. He puts his finger to her lips. Sshhh ... Then he slides his left hand down the right side of her face lightly, moving it around to the back of her neck, and then pulls her towards him. Opening her mouth, she accepts his. A long passionate kiss ... she moans and puts her arms around his neck as their tongues dance together. He breaks contact, pulls her head back. His tongue slides down her neck, down, slowly, finding its way directly between her breasts. He starts to move to one side, but pulls back. Her arms try to pull him back, but he moves back.

"Not yet ..."

She sits back, and notices that the limo is moving. He hands her a glass. "A little local flavor, I believe it's called a hand grenade." She takes a big swig, and gasps. What the hell is this stuff? Tastes good, but my gosh. After another little bit, she can feel her head starting to sway just a bit already. It's kind of pleasant. She takes another hard swig – this feels pretty good!

He reaches up and hits the switch to open the moon roof. He stands up, and motions her to join him. They are slowly making their way around the French Quarter. Despite being an off weekend, there are a lot of folks milling around. He reaches around her waist, at first just steadying her. "Kick off your shoes, it will be easier". Thank goodness, at least she can drink more now without worrying about falling off the spikes. His reach slides down, until it is cupping the curve of her ass. With a squeeze, he turns her around and places his mouth over hers. Another long, deep, passionate kiss. He presses against her in the moon roof opening. She can feel his hardness through the flimsy material of her dress. She reaches down with one hand and grips, and then strokes his shaft through his pants.

"I want that, please" she pleads with him.

"OK, but let me take care of something first. Enjoy the view, I'll be right back", he says.

She turns around, watching as they drive by some people on the sidewalk. He slides down back inside, to get a couple of drinks, she supposes. They pass by a couple of college aged boys walking on the sidewalk – they whistle at her, and throw some beads. Bad aim, she can't reach them. She eyes them, and blows a kiss. The alcohol, the setting, her dress ... she feels 25 years younger. If they only knew what was underneath this dress, they'd do more than whistle!

She gives a start as she feels his hands down around her ankles. They slide up slowly on the outside of her legs. Up her calves, past the knees, underneath the material of the dress. He's pushing the dress up as he goes. Past the top of the thigh highs. They slide around to cup the cheeks of her ass. She gasps, and grabs the side of the roof opening to steady herself as his hands pull her to his face. Now she understood the lack of panties in his lingerie selection.

She leans backwards, thrusting her mid section out towards him as his tongue finds her clit. Lightly flicking it causes her to spasm. Her knuckles turn white as she grabs the metal. He moves down, his darting movements parting her lips. She is so wet there is no problem at all.

She pulls her right leg up and slings it over his shoulder. He has full access now. One hand still holds her cheek, while the other repositions, its fingers slowly moving inside of her moist pussy. She is impaled on his fingers, his tongue is still flicking across her clit. She is holding onto the rim of the opening with both hands, grinding her womanhood into his face, all while trying desperately not to yell out to the people they are passing by on the sidewalk. His fingers slide in and out slowly, as his tongue continues its work.

With a shudder, she takes a hand and grabs his hair. She pulls him even harder into her, and starts to spasm. His fingers slide up all the way inside of her, pushing against her lips. The tongue flicks her clit ever faster. Now, she doesn't care who is looking. Moans and stifled cries escape her as she orgasms. Once. He keeps at it. Twice. Her knees weaken, and she can't stay up any longer. She collapses to the floor of the limo. He is sitting there, smiling at her.

"Hi there ... How ya' been doing?", he asks. Asshole!

After three or four blocks of heavy breathing to recover, she takes another swig of hand grenade. Wow ...

He stands up in the roof, takes her hand and pulls her up as well. Still a bit unsteady, a combination of grenade and orgasm has her head feeling light. They are pulling up a side street next to the Sonesta, nose of the limo touching Bourbon Street. He moves behind her. Folks are milling around the limo and street, just normal Bourbon Street foot traffic for the middle of the evening. It's fun to people watch, and to see what the gals (and some guys) will do just to get some plastic beads thrown down to them. A crowd of drunk bead throwers is on the second floor balcony across the street, hooting and hollering at the young ladies walking below.

His hands clasp the cheeks of her ass, and she feels him inching the material of the dress up. He gets the material up over her hips. She hears him unzip himself, and then feels him place his stiff manhood squarely between her ass cheeks. He then drops the dress material back down, so that even the people above can't see exactly what is going on, though they may suspect.

He leans forward, and whispers in her ear "I think we need some beads". What???

His hands reach around her, and slowly slide up from her waist to just below her breasts. They gently move over the fabric, teasing the nipples that are covered by the barest of material. Not that they needed any more reason, but they stiffen in reaction to his touch. His fingers gently swirl around the nipples. She pushes them forward against his hands, her breasts begging for more. He senses this, and squeezes both of them firmly, gently but strongly kneading them. He pulls the hands away, then flicks the tips of the nipples with the end of his index fingers. "Now that I have their attention..."

His hands slide up and fingers hook over the top edge of her dress. He pulls the dress' fabric down, over the tips of her nipples, and hooks it under the cups of her bra. Before she even realizes it, her breasts are exposed.

Rather than the normal squeal and cover up with both arms, she reaches back and pulls him more tightly against her. The atmosphere ... the people milling about ... his dick pulsing against her backside ... the lingering affects of the grenade. People, complete strangers, are looking at her intimacies, and she is giddy about it. Folks start to notice, the men (and women) on the balcony start pointing and yelling. Beads start raining down, most bouncing off the roof, but a few find their way inside. She grabs some of them and drops them over her head. Good heavens, she thinks. I haven't done anything this crazy since ... well, better to not think of that right now!

After a few minutes, he leans forward, slides the dress material up back into place. His tongue finds her ear, and after a couple of flicks of her earlobe, whispers "That's enough for those perverts ... the girls are mine for the rest of the evening ..."

They retreat into the limo, gather themselves up, and depart it. Since the Sonesta is right there, the limo is released, the driver surely happy at the view he's had in the mirror for most of the evening.

Entering the room, he excuses himself to the bathroom. She walks over and pours a glass of wine and takes a healthy sip (not that she needs any more alcohol, but can't let it go to waste, can we?). She walks back over to the foot of the bed. He comes out of the bathroom, wearing a just a pair of sleep boxers.

She tosses her hair to one side, and looks back over her shoulder at him. "Want some of this?" she asks in a deep, husky voice. At that, she pulls up her dress to waist height, and bends over the bed, placing both hands down to steady herself. The site causes an instant tent in his pants. "Is that a trick question?" he replies?

He stands there looking at the incredible site. The heels cause her posture to stick her ass out provocatively. She's bent over at the waist. Her butt is framed perfectly by the dress and the stockings. She moves her feet, spreading her legs just a bit.

"Are you just going to stand there and whack off, or are you going to put that inside of me?"

He walks over to her, kneels down behind her, and runs his hands up and down her legs. He grasps her cheeks and squeezes them. He runs his tongue up the back of her thighs and over each cheek, then back down between them. He stands up, grabs her ass cheeks and spreads them, then places his cock right between them. She squeezes her cheeks together, and starts grinding them, massaging his member. He moans, then moves back just a bit and drops the head. It moves between her thighs, pressing upward on her moist lips. He moves back and forth a bit, slowly, using the shaft to open the lips. It is not difficult – she is so wet in anticipation that no lubricant is at all necessary. On one stroke, he pulls back a bit further, kneels just a bit to reposition the head, and then thrusts forward. She is impaled all the way. Normally such a thrust would be uncomfortable, but she is so aroused, so wet, that it slides right in to the hilt with no difficulty. She gasps, initially pulling forward away from him. Then she pushes back, ramming his member as far is as it can go. They just stay there for a few seconds, his hardness twitching inside of her.

She moves her feet back a bit, bracing herself against his onslaught. He starts thrusting away, very slowly at first, then gaining momentum. In and out ... back and forth ... she rocks back in rhythm to meet his thrusts, creating soft slapping sounds as her ass hits his belly. He grabs her hips, and pulls himself into her with more authority. Her ass cheeks ripple a bit each time he slaps against her. He speeds up, and then slows down. He then stops all together, just standing there with his member throbbing inside of her.

She looks back over her shoulder and asks "How's the view back there?".

"Entertaining, but definitely PG-13!".

After a few more thrusts, he pushes her forward onto the bed. Moving up on all fours, she kicks off the heels, and sticks her rear up into the air. He moves in behind her, and easily slides back in. She gasps, and rests in that position for a moment, savoring his thickness inside. "Stay still" she moans, and then starts rocking forward and back on his shaft, massaging it with her pussy. She rolls her hips, changing the friction on the shaft as it moves in and out, causing him to moan in sympathy to her movements. He pushes his hips forward, placing the dick out as far in front as he can. She rides it back and forth, pulls her thighs together. She squeezes her muscles grasping at the head as it moves inside of her. She pounds back and forth, faster and faster, and then stops.

A short break ... after all, neither is as young as they used to be. He reaches forward and grabs her shoulders. He pulls her back towards him, member still firmly in place. He gathers her long hair and pulls it to one side, then nuzzles up to her neck. Tongue lightly licking up one side of her neck, and down the other. He pulls her hair back with his left hand, turning her head around towards him. His mouth rests near her ear. She can hear his heavy breathing as his traces the outline of her ear with his tongue, and nibbles at her earlobe.

He sits back on the bed, resting on his knees, pulling her with him. She is now sitting on his lap facing away. He reaches up and unfastens her bra, and slides it away. Her breasts are now free, not that they were exactly covered up before! He runs his hands down her back, then drags his nails up from her waist to shoulders, giving her a shiver. His hands continue up to her shoulders, then down to her arms. They gently, but firmly, grab hold of her arms about the elbow. He then starts moving hips, sliding his member in and out. She responds by grinding her hips into his lap some. He continues, building momentum. He pulls away and then slams back in, the slapping noises increasing as his flesh contacts her ass at the apex of each stroke. A short moan escapes her lips as each stroke hits home. He leans back, but holds her arms. She looks into the mirror over the bed's headboard. She sees herself being held in his arms, sees her body jerk as each stroke hits home, sees her breasts bounce in sympathy, sees his face behind her. The look is almost as intoxicating as the alcohol that still runs through her system.

He slows, and moves up close behind her. He continues moving in and out, but reaches around with his right hand and finds her mound. He begins moving his finger over her clit, slowly at first, then increasing in speed as his thrusts again come faster.

He whispers in her ear "Do you want to cum?". "Please, please, please ..." she begs.

He roughly pushes her over onto her back, then pulls her legs apart. He moves up over her, and places the head of his dick right on top of her clit. She can't stand it, and grabs his shoulders. She tries to pull him into her, but all he does is slowly move up and down, dragging the head over her pleasure spot.

"Do you want to cum?". "Now, please ... give it to me right now."

He pulls back, then suddenly plunges in. Her breath is taken away as he hits bottom, dick as far inside of her as it can go. He pauses, and then withdraws almost all the way out. Then back in slowly. Back out, a little faster. Then into rhythm, in and out, up and down. His thrusts are quick and deep now. She grunts each time he goes into the hilt. Her legs are wrapped around his torso, trying to pull him in even further. Her arms are wrapped around his shoulders in a bear hug – there is no way he's going to stop again!

"Are you ready to cum yet?" he asks. "NOW, YOU BASTARD" she spits back through clenched teeth.

He moves up, feet and hands holding him off of her body, except for their locked organs. All of his weight is focused on pressing into her. He grinds away – now it's not in and out, but side to side, not leaving contact with her clit. She starts, feeling it well up from inside of her. She feels it growing, spreading out from her pussy. The warmth, the tingling takes control of her whole body.

It has complete control of her now. Her body seizes in spasm, short panting squeals escaping from her lips. Her arms and legs pull at him so hard it is painful. She is locked up for what seems hours, though in reality just seconds. It starts to subside. She loses all strength. Her body relaxes, melts back into the bed. Her arms fall, her legs uncoil themselves from his torso and fall to the sides of his. His rock hard member remains inside, twitching now and then, reacting to the spasms of her muscles. She is on the verge of passing out from the intensity of the orgasm.

Minutes later, she starts to recover, breathing down to a more or less normal level. She looks at him – "Your turn now" ....

She rolls out from under him, then pushes him over onto his back. She slides up next to him, head resting on his chest. She wraps one stocking clad leg over his, and slides it up and down, It feels so good ... the swishing sound the fabric makes ... She touches his chest, then moves her hand down to near his member, which is still hard, but not as raging as it was a few minutes before. She slides by it, and gently cups his sac. She rolls the balls around, being mindful that they are oh so tender. She feels the skin tighten under her movements. She moves her hand up and grasps his shaft at the base. She tightens her grip on it, gives a sinister little laugh, and says "This belongs to me!".