More Than Friends Pt 03 1

Astrid slept lightly, her senses alert. Pale light seeped past the corners of the curtain. A car started. Its engine's working hard as its driver races home. She felt energized and thought of the smell of hot coffee.

She heard rhythmic breathing to her side. Turning her head, she saw the fluffy duvet pulled over John's head and his thick socks poking out the bottom of the cover.

A brief flash of guilt washed over her, a curious feeling. Astrid wasn't much into emotions, even when she could feel them. Seeing her old friend pliant and act like she hasn't hidden from everyone felt odd, to say the least. She was fond of him actually, very fond. It goes beyond his indulgence of her sexual wiles or looking beyond her deviancy. It bothered her because she always felt their friendship wouldn't be any different even if she didn't bed him. She strongly felt that even people like her deserve friends. She wasn't a good one though, and that is for the best.

Astrid quietly slipped off the bed. She stretched a bit, feline grace and all. She walked to the armchair, got her robe, and fixed her appearance. She wondered if she needed to wear her bra, musing how far she was willing to walk for a coffee. She stepped out of the toilet, robe well past her knees. Her unexpected roommate still dormant as a log. Slipping into her bunny slippers, she went out of the room, taking care to make as little noise as possible.

Standing in the hotel lobby, Astrid pretended to look for staff. She needed to sort out the mess they made on the hotel linen last night. Ideally without extra fees or documentation, and she has the perfect person in mind. Finding no early bird guard or attendant patrolling the worn-out carpet, she checked the front desk.

"Heya," Astrid paused, pretending to read the clerk's nameplate. "Olena." Astrid knew her name; she noticed Olena earlier this week. The only blonde Eastern European on staff.

The blonde looked up, surprised to be caught unaware of Astrid's approach. Olena smiled; she had also noticed Astrid. Astrid usually being one of the hottest women in a room. In Goring-by-Sea, she's probably the hottest woman within a quarter mile. "What can I do for you?" asked Olena.

Astrid leaned closer and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "Can you help me with some laundry?" Her robe opened a bit, and Astrid hastily adjusted herself. Astrid caught Olena trying to catch a peek.

"Yes, of course." Olena did her best to mimic Astrid's tone. "What do you need, um, miss? Olena did a better job at pretending she didn't know her counterpart's name.

"Call me Astrid. I need some bedding cleaned Olena, please." Astrid did her best to look embarrassed. "Can you get them later from my room? I'll cover the laundry fee and have you for breakfast." Astrid gave a weak smile.

Olena nodded wisely. "Ok. I'll have someone get it later."

"Olena, can you be the one to do it? I don't want to explain or be embarrassed with the room cleaners." Astrid tried with her normal tone. "будь ласка. Please." Astrid pleaded.

Olena's eyes narrowed. "Ok, I will come." She saw the sweetness return to Astrid's face. "I will be up in an hour; I just finish something here." Olena said with finality.

"Thank you." Astrid conspiratorially whispers again while flashing a big smile.

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Astrid returned to her room, 3 steaming coffees in a carrier and a bag of croissants in hand. She saw John jump in bed as the door closed. "Hello there." Astrid teased. John stood up to help her, his boxers barely holding in its ward. "I see you're both excited for breakfast." Astrid continued.

John flushed red with embarrassment but knew better than to make excuses. He gingerly got the coffee, making sure nothing would spill. Astrid started stripping the pillow covers and stuffing them in the hotel's laundry bag. She noticed John step out of the toilet, his hair in better order. He started preparing their coffee. A creamer for her, no sugar. His, just left open to cool down.

As she finished wrapping up the lube-stained pillowcases, John handed her a cup. He hasn't forgotten her coffee preferences. He opened the brown bag, and a sweet, buttery aroma bloomed into the room. John fished out a croissant, got his coffee, and sat at the edge of the bed. Munching, followed by a surprised hum of delight, broke the silence. "This is good croissant" John remarked.

"The kwasant is better on the other side" Astrid replied with a faux French accent.

Once John finished his pastry, Astrid placed her half-finished cup on the table and approached him. John reached out to pull Astrid closer. Astrid let him. She ran her hand on his unkempt hair; she felt him slowly pull the belt of her robe open. She felt him kiss her stomach softly, his stubble a tickle. She felt his arm enter the robe and wrap around her hips. Her robe opens, and a breast spills out. She felt his lips gently latch on her exposed areola, an unsure suckle, and the tip of his tongue flick her hardening nipple. Astrid groaned accidentally.

She pulled back just enough for her breast to escape his mouth and replaced it with her lips. She shrugged the robe off while trying not to break from their kiss. She felt John pull her undies down. She freed her ankle from the bunched-up underwear while removing the hands on her hips and thighs.

Astrid broke the kiss and placed her right foot on the bed. John took one look at the vulgar display and kissed her smooth pubis. The kiss was followed by a few teasing licks on her slowly swelling clit. He ate her out like a marooned and starving sailor. Astrid had to hold on to John's head for support so she could concentrate on her pleasure.

She felt a finger probe her wet puss, followed by another slowly stretching her out. She can't remember how many times she did the same thing to his ass. She knows he'll be curling both fingers shortly, looking for her spot. "Fuck." She growled as he found it. He stopped licking her clit and let her focus on the digits exploring her.

She saw him look up as her orgasm started to build up. Her fluttering pussy betrays her state. He slows down his ministrations, trying to balance her climax on the edge. She looked him in the eye and gave the slightest of nods. She felt tension radiate from the center of her box, as his fingers started to coil firmly on her spot. His thumb tries to pull up the hood of her clit, exposing more of it for the tip of his tongue to lick.

Astrid feels the inevitable as her muscles clamp down on John's fingers. One of Astrid's hands flies to her breast, tweaking and pinching a nipple while the other holds on to John's hair both for support and to guide his oral services.

Astrid's abdomen clenches, and she almost curled up if she didn't steady herself beforehand. She felt her legs shake and weaken. While it was expected, it hit her suddenly. Gone was the expected crescendo; this orgasm was a rogue lightning strike--if lightning strikes can be sustained for several moments. Her mouth was agape as she tried to ride out the pleasure without announcing it to everyone on the floor. As she felt the orgasm peak, she felt her legs start to fail. The strength in her legs left her with the ebb of her orgasm. At first, she started to fall, or was it flying?

The next moment she was on her back on the bed with John on his feet with a wide grin on his face. John lifted and tossed her on the bed as she ended her climax. He playfully climbed onto the bed beside her and ran his hand on Astrid's arm and thigh as she recovered.

"Well done." Astrid said as she caught her breath. "Now can you get a glove from the toilet?"