I'm a needy little slut who can't go even a day without cumming. Daddy agreed to let me cum today if I wrote a dirty story and posted it within 24 hours for everyone to read. This means it's very raw and unedited.
Thank you for letting me cum, Daddy <3
***
We first met in the hotel lobby at the check-in counter. There had been an issue finding my reservation that was taking several minutes to solve and I was self-conscious of how long you had been suffering behind me, waiting for your turn to be checked in. It was another thing to add to my pile of stress. It had been a long day and an even longer flight that left me sticky with sweat and my brain foggy with a thousand different thoughts. I was ready for a hot shower and to sink into the hotel bed for a few hours with some mindless TV on until dinner.
Despite the delay, you never sighed or complained. Nevertheless I was eager to get out of your way once the clerk handed me my key card. You moved forward to the counter just as I took a step back to collect my heavy duffel bag. Our bodies collided. I stepped on your foot with the heel of my boot, hard enough that I heard you make a pained noise. The weight of my bag in one hand and my uneven footing left me off-balance and I fell back against your steady frame. Your hands moved to catch me before I fell any further in any direction. Your fingertips gripped my hips.
"Oops," you said with a gentle chuckle. "Careful."
"Sorry!" I mumbled, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder and hurried to the elevator, avoiding meeting your gaze.
You finished checking in and were standing behind me again before the elevator even arrived. Your presence filled me with nervous energy and I rushed for the door as soon as they parted, but I quickly side-stepped when I saw the crowd of people inside wanting to exit. Your fingertips touched me again, guiding me away from crashing into you once more.
My body went warm at your touch. It was so light--barely perceptible--but something about it sent shivers through me, quickened my pulse, and made me wet between my thighs.
"Six," you said once we both entered the elevator and the doors were closing. Your voice was low, smooth, confident. The voice of someone that knew he was in charge; who expected obedience but would never force it. I could say to you 'press your own button then' and you wouldn't be upset.
But I didn't say that. Your voice stirred in me a desire to do as you asked. I pressed the '6' first, and then the '4' for my own floor.
I felt your eyes on me but I couldn't bring myself to look at you or let you know that I could sense your gaze traveling down my body. My eyes focused on the floor but my mind was elsewhere: on the 'ba-bum-ba-bump-ba-bump' of my heart thumping in my chest and my panties getting damper with each passing moment in your presence. Why did you have such an effect on me?
I finally dared to see you when I left the elevator for my floor. It was just enough for a quick survey of how you looked but also enough that you noticed. You were handsome, there was no doubt about that. But more than that, it was your sense of self that I found so attractive. The calm assuredness.
Our eyes met. I felt my clit twinge in response, which made me blush until my ears burned red. The corner of your mouth lifted in a quiet but knowing smirk. You saw the way my body responded to you. You knew I'd be thinking of you soon in the shower.
--
The next time I saw you was in the hotel restaurant, a few hours later. I masturbated in the shower, unable to resist touching myself and unable to drive the thought of you and the feel of your fingers from my mind. My mind had moved on from you now though, as I worried over an email from a colleague.
"Can I join you?"
I glanced up from my phone, startled by your voice with that same modulated tone as before. The one that told me I could always say 'no' and you'd leave me alone. But I nodded and, pulling my purse out of the empty chair, slipped my phone into my bag.
You slid into the seat beside me. The table was only made to accommodate two and left little space between us. You smelled like the hotel shampoo, coconut and vanilla, and I wondered if I smelled the same to you. Or could you smell the scent of my orgasm on me?
You offered to pay for my dinner and drink that evening, as thanks for sharing my table. My work comps me meals but still I accepted your offer. This didn't feel like it would be a work dinner.
"Business or pleasure?" you asked as our food arrived.
"Um, neither. I'm just here for an overnight stopover on my way home from a conference. You?"
"Business. But I always try to mix the two when I travel." I watched your lips as you spoke. I pictured them on my own, moving down my neck.
"What kind of work do you do?"
"I'm a mind reader."
I laughed at the unexpected response. The skin at the corners of your eyes crinkled as you returned with a playful smile.
"Of sorts," you continued with a shrug. "Companies contact me when they're having problems: with the company culture or retaining clients or marketing to a new demographic. Most of the time, what they think is their solution isn't actually what they need. I analyze their problems, tell them what they do need to do, and help them make it happen. It's a skill I've always had and one I find works well with people, too."
"Is that right?" I teased, feeling more playful now that I had eaten and had a drink.
"It is. I can always tell when someone needs something."
I licked my lips. I wanted him to read my mind in that moment. "And what is it you think I need?"
You exhaled slowly as your gaze traveled across my body, this time knowing that I can see you do it. I was like a book being opened in front of you to read. I felt vulnerable. You took your time, looking me over.
"You need a night of release."
My breath hitched as my pulse quickened.
"You're wound up tight. I can tell. You carry all your stresses in your neck and shoulders, your back, your legs... When was the last time you just... let go? Of everything?"
As you spoke, I became cognizant of all the aches and tenseness in my body. How tight my back and legs were. I shook my head. "I've never done that."
You nodded like I said what you were expecting. "You always have to stay in control." And you were right. I did. I had to stay in control of everything, I had to take on every responsibility. I shouldered a lot. "But what if you gave that up for a night and let someone else be in control of you?"
You nudged my legs with your knee. It would be easy for me to pretend it was an accident and ignore you, or reject you outright. But I understood the gesture for what it was: an invitation. To let go. To open up. To you.
I parted my leg, just enough to let your knee rest between mine. I was wet between my thighs again.
"I don't even know your name," I whispered.
"Is that a dealbreaker?" you asked.
I shook my head. Quite the opposite, in fact. It turned me on. And you knew that, too. You knew I didn't want commitment right now. I just needed release.
You leaned in closer, not that there was much space between us to start. "You may relinquish control to me but I won't do anything you don't want. You can end things at any time." This was crazy. I didn't know anything about you except vaguely what you did for work. And now you were offering me to trust you completely.
"If you agree, hand me the key to your room."
But I wanted it. I wanted you so, so bad. My hand shook--not from fear but excitement--as I took the key from my purse and laid it on the table in front of you.