A Brief Encounter with Heidi

I started writing erotic stories with the sole intent of jotting down some of the amazing sexual adventures I have had over the years. And now, some fifty stories into recording both factual and fictional events, I have not even attempted to start one of the half-dozen stories I wanted to tell. Why? Partly because I did not think my writing was anywhere close to being of a standard to do them justice. And also, I was embarrassed by my blatant infidelity. I'm of an age now where I'm not so worried about what others think of my writing or what I got up to in my younger days. So here goes with the first of the half dozen most erotic experiences of my life.

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In 1994, when this story took place, my second wife and I had been married for ten years. I had been faithful, as playing around ruined my first marriage, and I was determined not to go down that road again. Not to say I had not come close; there had been plenty of close shaves where women had given me more than a casual glance. I've always been told I'm handsome, and I have always found it easy to get along with the opposite sex,

Anyway, around the time I'm writing about, I had been doing a lot of business travel in New Zealand and overseas. In November '94, I found myself in Las Vegas working at a computer show. After five days of standing from 9:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. on the show stand, answering the same questions repeatedly, I was dying for the show to finish. Having rich food and far too much booze every night was not helping either. Nor were all the beautiful eligible ladies, who seemed to be everywhere in Vegas, helping my attempts to remain faithful.

Once the five show days were up, I had to weather only four more nights in LA, with meetings at the US company's premises to get through before travelling home. The US branch put me up at the Embassy Suites in Irvine. It was new and quite an upmarket hotel compared to places I usually stayed. I did go out boozing with the other delegates the first night, but the hangover the following day had me swearing not to indulge again on my final two nights.

So, at the end of our meetings on Thursday, I went back to the Hotel, showered, and then went down to dinner, intending to eat and then have an early night.

The restaurant was in a large atrium on the ground floor. I sat at a table facing a large TV set and watched an American football game. I was engrossed in the game when I noticed a woman walking into the Atrium.

Her back was to me as she gave the maitre d' her room number. I took in her figure; it was something to behold and had my cock stirring in my pants. She was wearing tight jeans, so tight there should have been a pantie line, but there wasn't, and that got me even more excited. But when she turned and came to sit at the table adjacent to mine, I was disappointed, as her face did not match her figure.

She was not unattractive by any stretch of the imagination, but she wouldn't win the Redondo Beach beauty contest that year. She had a stern, no-nonsense look about her. I looked away; her expression told me she would not countenance some horny old leach like me perving on her.

I said I had been faithful the last ten years, but not that I did not enjoy perusing the display windows. And although her face was all 'no-nonsense,' her trim, seductive figure had me taking further quick, surreptitious glances.

I could see she was wearing a bra under her tight T-shirt, but the bra did not contain the hard nipples protruding through the shirt's material. I took her to be in her twenties, with fantastic tits and a trim waist. Her body language told me she knew I was perving on her, but her smile and nod said she did not mind my indecent perusal of her body.

I turned away anyway; I'm not a total leach. I sipped my beer and heard, "What team are you following?"

I turned and smiled, "I don't know the teams, but I like the team in red and gold."

"That's my team. They're the 49ers from San Francisco, where I live now. Where are you from? You have a funny accent?"

I'm from New Zealand and am on business for a week or so. I fly home on Saturday."

Again, I was disappointed; her voice was grating, one of those annoyingly loud American voices you often hear ringing out in large capitals worldwide. But she was very open and chatty, and after exchanging a few more sentences, she asked me to join her.

"I'd like some company. I've had a tough week, and our talking across the aisle is stupid. By the way, I'm Heidi."

I picked up my book and phone, moved to her table and introduced myself. The waiter approached, and when he informed us they had yet to start on my meal, she ordered, and the waiter said he would bring both meals together.

Over the next half hour, we talked and watched the game. Heidi gave me pointers on what was happening. I had a fair understanding of the rules, as I'd watched American football games before. But there was a lot that puzzled me. She was knowledgeable and cleared up many of the plays that confused me.

I was warming to Heidi; we had a lot in common. She moaned with me about the guys she was working with; they did not like being ordered around by a woman. But as engineers and managers, we began to swap stories about our working lives.

Our mains arrived, but that did not stop Heidi from talking; she was a real chatterbox. I learned she was a senior engineer working on a roading contract nearby. The company she worked for was based in San Fransisco, but she had to spend the odd week in LA sorting out issues. She was tough, had to be, she told me, as she had to order upwards of eighty men around daily. And as she was only twenty-five, they did not exactly warm to her. There were plenty of issues with the ground they were working on, and the last week had been challenging, and she'd had to put in some long hours.

At around 9:30 p.m., the game finished, and Heidi asked me up to her room for a nightcap. I hesitated, knowing I should not be going to another woman's room. But as always, one drink too many and the little brain in my pants trumped all common sense, and I followed her to her room, which happened to be directly above mine. Hers was 623, mine was 523, and we laughed at the coincidence.

She poured me a stiff bourbon and coke; it was some exclusive vintage. She showed me the bottle, thinking I would be impressed. But it was just another bourbon to me. She got some music playing on her telly and resumed telling me about her life. In her conversation, she said that she had been using a shovel that day and had a sore back. It was just the opening I needed, and I offered to massage it for her. She only hesitated momentarily, saying she had never had a massage. And before I knew it, she was wriggling out of her tight jeans, pulling her T-shirt over her head and lying on the floor rug in her bra and panties.

When she pulled her jeans down, her panties had slipped with them, so I had a good perv on her dirty blond bush before she hitched her knickers back up. She didn't bat an eye; for a minute, I thought she was going to drop them also.

I knelt beside her, removed her bra, and massaged her back. After a while, I moved lower and massaged her glutes. She let out a small groan and spread her legs. It was a blatant invitation, so I pulled her panties down and was not surprised when she lifted her hips to allow me to remove them altogether. Within minutes, I had my jeans off and was donkey deep, giving her a good old rogering from behind.

"Oh Fuck!" she moaned, "I have not been fucked in ages."

I didn't last nearly as long as I would have liked, as she climaxed rather quickly, and I had no chance of holding back with her sublime arse twitching and jerking under me. As we lay on the floor, regaining our breath, she rolled over and lit up a joint. Whacky-baccy was something else I hadn't touched in ten years; my wife disapproved of it. But when Heidi handed it to me, I took a toke without thinking.

We puffed away, and I asked her about her sex life, voicing my concern that I had not used a condom.

"I'm on the pill. You don't need to worry about getting me pregnant."

"I was thinking more about Aids, etc. I hear it's prevalent here in the US at the moment."

She just laughed and said she hadn't had sex in well over a year, so she definitely didn't have any STDs and had assumed, as a married man, that I would be clean.

"You're lucky my father is nowhere near; he'd have his shotgun out, and you would be heading for the church again if he was. I come from a very strict southern family."

While I was mulling over her revelation and working through ways of escaping back to my room, Heidi grabbed me by the hand and dragged me through to her bedroom. She was very vocal about wanting to be fucked some more. She was one very forward woman. The opposite of my wife, who often took an hour or more to get in the mood - if I was lucky.

As I kicked my shoes off, she stripped my shirt away, pulled me onto her bed and latched onto my old fella. I was more than impressed, My cock was very messy from our previous lovemaking, and she took to it like she was sucking the sauce from a hotdog.

It didn't take that long, and she had me hard again. No mean feat, as I was over forty and no longer had all the vigour of my youth. I rolled her face down on the bed and took her from behind. I had this bizarre perception that if I didn't look her in the face while fucking her, I was not being totally unfaithful.

Again, she came really fast, moaning that she needed to get herself a boyfriend. She rolled from under me, threw her leg over mine and manhandled my shaft back between her legs. Then, lying side by side, we kissed for the first time; it made me feel uncomfortable; again, I bizarrely thought I was being particularly unfaithful by kissing her, and was not happy about it.

But as she humped her hips against me, I also began to get into the kissing. However, when she started to show signs of another orgasm approaching, I realised I was a long way from coming myself. This was more than the fact that I had already orgasmed; it had to be the marijuana. Even though her enthusiasm and sensuous body aroused me wickedly, I felt like I could last for hours.

When she climaxed, I pulled her to the edge of the bed, stood on the floor, and bent her legs up by her ears. Then started fucking her with abandon. She loved it and yelled at me to fuck her harder and began fingering her clit like a mad woman. That really turned me on, and at last, I felt the beginnings of my own orgasm building.

"Do me, doggy! I've never had that," she moaned.

So I flipped her over and lifted her hips until she was balanced on her hands and knees at the edge of the bed. I then took her hard until I exploded, emptying what felt like a bucket full of my seed into her.

We collapsed on the bed, panting and gasping. Heidi cuddled into me and again mentioned having to find a boyfriend, and I asked her why she didn't have one.

"What with studies and establishing myself in a male-dominated workplace. I haven't found the time."

"Surely you meet guys at your work. They must all have the hots for you?"

"They're a pretty rough bunch, road workers. I do fantasise about being gang-banged by them. But, no, I would never mess around with the staff."

I made a note to quiz her about her gang bang fantasies, which interested me just as much as the sex we had just had.

We talked some more, and I finally managed to escape without making it too apparent that I was feeling fucking guilty and desperate to run. Heidi made no fuss about me leaving, didn't ask if we could meet again, and seemed to accept that we had used each other.

Back in my room, the guilt of my being unfaithful hit, and I struggled to sleep. I knew it was stupid, but the thought of taking Aids back home to my wife wouldn't go away. I woke early and raced to breakfast, hoping I did not see Heidi. I had time planned with the service manager that day. We were having issues with some new, very technical equipment, and the Americans knew of some workarounds as they had a much larger user base than we did.

I returned to the Embassy Suites around 5:00 p.m., lay on my bed and dozed off for an hour or more. When I woke, I thought seriously about ordering room service as I did not want to face Heidi again. I knew if she asked me back to her room, weak bastard that I am, I would never be able to resist. But then I thought, as it was only 6:45 p.m., and she had not turned up until after 8:00 p.m. the night before, I should be safe.

As I walked into the Atrium, I was met with an excited cry, "Dave, over here! We have saved a seat for you."

Heidi was sitting at the same table as the night before with a very attractive young lady. Oh fuck!

I couldn't believe it. And without thought, followed my fucking cock over to the table. I knew my eyes were hanging out on stalks, goggling this angelic apparition as Heidi introduced us. Her name was Diane, and she was the receptionist at Heidi's site office. Heidi had told her all about me and insisted she come along and join us for dinner.

Now I have to admit, at this stage, just what a dirty rotten scumbag I can be. My mind immediately went into overdrive, dreaming up ways to get rid of Heidi and get this beauty alone in my bedroom. But I put on my best gentlemanly face and attempted to give them both the same amount of attention.

I learned Diane was thirty (I had thought she was much younger), divorced and had a three-year-old daughter. When she separated, she returned home to live with her parents and did not date (All men being lecherous, selfish bastards). We ordered a main, but Heidi said to make it light as she wanted to go to an IHOP for dessert. I had no idea what she was talking about.

After we had somewhat rushed through our mains, Diane left to get her car. As Heidi and I waited out front, I asked Heidi what an IHOP was.

"It's the International House of Pancakes. Don't you have them in New Zealand?"

"Never heard of them before. No, I don't think so."

"Oh! You'll love the place; they make the most delicious deserts."

Just then, Diane pulled up in a 1978 Ford Thunderbird. It was bubblegum blue with a tan vinyl roof, and she had fitted out the interior in teal-coloured upholstery with pink trim. It was her pride and joy. Heidi and I squeezed onto the front bench seat, and Diane drove off toward Newport Beach to find an IHOP. To say I was impressed with the car would be an understatement. I had always dreamed of owning a car like this, pretentious American bling, but who cares?

I ordered strawberry and banana pancakes and was blown away when they arrived. There was a stack of five, enough cream to cover twenty cakes, all floating in a sea of maple syrup. No wonder there are so many large people over here. But that was not my biggest surprise; when the girls' pancakes arrived, they were much the same proportions, and both had ordered rashers of bacon with them. Who in their right mind would eat bacon with cream???? Only in America!

They made me try some of the pancakes with bacon, and I had to admit they were better than I expected. Still, you would never catch me ordering bacon with a dessert. We were only about halfway through when Heidi's phone rang. It was her work; they had a problem, and she had to get there immediately.

Hallelujah! There was a bloke upstairs listening to my prayers. Heidi took me aside, "I probably won't get in before midnight, so give Diane one for me." Then she whispered to me, "Diane mentioned one time when we were swapping notes that she couldn't resist when a guy pinches her nipples. That's all the advice I can give you."

She hailed a taxi and was gone. I wandered back inside, and when we had eaten as much as possible, Diane asked if I wanted to go for a drive.

"Hell yeah," I exclaimed, "I love your car."

She drove me down to Newport Beach, and we sat on a bench by the beach, looking out at the oil platforms twinkling away in the darkness. I tried to touch her breasts, but she told me I was like every other man she'd ever been with, only interested in her tits.

I spent the next half an hour trying to convince her that I was not only interested in sex. But I did point out that I was a male, and, yes, she had me hot and bothered. Slowly, I seemed to get through to her that I thought more of her than sex. But she still seemed a little irked with me when she drove me back to the Hotel. On the drive back, in general discussion, I told her about a new machine we were marketing that printed directly onto fabrics and that I had samples I was taking back to New Zealand. When we parked at the Hotel, I asked why she had come out that night, as she didn't seem interested in men.

Her response made me realise just how wrong my reading of the situation had been.

"Heidi's been trying to get me to date again. She said you were special and wanted us to have a threesome. I only agreed as I have been wondering about going with a woman. So now that she's not here, I should head home."

I felt like a bloody idiot; I'd been trying to get alone with her all night when I could have been bonking both of them in my bed. And even better - watching two women going at it. I sat there and asked her about her husband and what he had done to put her off men. And I told her that there were plenty of good men around who would treat her respectfully.

Diane mellowed down a little and told me more about herself; then, she asked me to come to my room and see the print samples.

I'd not told her about the samples to get her to my room, but I was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth either. In my room, I got out the samples; most were prints on T-shirts, but there was a woman's white top with a butterfly printed on the back. Diane looked at the tag and said it was her size and that she could try it. Of course, I agreed, but I was disappointed when she escaped into the bathroom to change into it.

I had to talk hard and fast to get her out of the bathroom and show me the top. When she did, I understood her reluctance. Her bra was visible through the thin cotton top, and her dark areola was prominently visible and protruding. She turned and moved back into the bathroom. I followed and took hold of her from behind, cupped her breasts and whispered in her ear, "You look fucking gorgeous. Don't run away."

She halfheartedly attempted to shrug me off, but remembering Heidi's advice, I tweaked both nipples and kissed her ear. I watched her eyes in the mirror; she lowered them to see what my hands were doing, let out a plaintive whimper and fell back into my arms. When I was sure she would not run, I dropped my hands and started working her slacks down from her hips. She did not resist but turned and unzipped my fly, then worked at pushing my pants down also.

Once she had my pants down far enough to expose my erection, she dropped to her knees and took me in her mouth. I let her go at it for a few minutes before lifting and carrying her over to my bed. She tried to wriggle around and resume my bow job, but I pushed her back.

"Lie down; this is meant to be your night, not mine," I dived between her legs, pulled her panties aside, and began to munch away like a demon.

She froze. I didn't ask, but I genuinely think she had never had a guy go down on her before. It took a while before she relaxed and started to respond. But it didn't take long before she had her hands in my hair and was moaning her appreciation. And not long after that, she was trying to pull me up on top of her, yelling she was about to come.

I lifted her butt, slid two fingers into her now eager cunt, and told her to tell me when she came. I resumed tonguing her slit, and she silently exploded when I pushed my thumb into her bum.

"Are you coming?" I asked.