"The door is unlocked. Just come in, don't say a word. You owe me something."
Seriously, few things turn me on more than being given instructions. And the tone of his voice as he said these words had my pussy weeping with anticipation.
I park my car in the space beside his at the motel. I'm nervous, my stomach tense with anticipation. Standing before the door, knowing he was on the other side, hand reaching for the door, hesitating, then pushing it open. Knees trembling, I walk inside.
He's sitting in the chair, TV on, smoking. As soon as I walk in, he's on his feet and in front of me. I start to talk (shame on me), impossible to keep quiet when I am so nervous. He responds, I'm not sure at all what we said, though I do believe I said hi to him at some point.
His hands touch me, pulling me to him, wrapping his arms around me, lips meeting mine. My nervousness melts away with my first taste of him. The gentle yet passionate touch of his lips and hands. My hands roaming over his back, body pressing tightly to his.
We begin to undress each other. I have to feel his skin, taste him. My hands roaming over his back and shoulders, pushing his shirt up over his head. Fingers trailing down his chest to his stomach. Looking him in the eyes as I unbutton his fly. His breath catching as I find him with my hand.
I step back and watch as he finishes undressing. I pull my spaghetti strap tank top over my head and offer my breasts to him. It isn't long before we are laying together across the bed, me still half dressed and both of us aching for that last item of clothing to disappear. Somehow we are standing again, I honestly don't know how it happens, my mind full of him, his scent, his taste, the feel of his skin. He pushes my skirt down over my hips, letting it fall to the floor, murmuring his appreciation as he realizes I am wearing nothing underneath.