Well, this is my first submission ever, and though I have ideas for other stories, this is the one that is short enough for a quick read, so I thought I'd try it first. I'd appreciate it very much if you would take the time to review. Thanks for reading!
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She swallowed, nervous, although she really had no reason to be. It wasn't as if he were different from any other man she had slept with. It wasn't as if, when he dropped his pants, she would find anything other than the standard balls, penis, and pubic hair snaking up his belly.
He'd kept himself in good shape all these years, she appraised with the eye of a woman comparing a couch with the one she had at home. There was no longer a six pack, but the stomach was flat, and though the biceps had shrunk, his arms still looked strong. She had made quick work of the t-shirt, of the belt, and now she had paused for a second, wondering if this was really what she wanted to do.
"Come on..." he said, his voice rough, his chin jutting out, as if it were a challenge.
She grinned, hooked her two pointers under her shirt, and pulled it over her head. Women killed to look like this at thirty-five. High proud breasts, tiny little waist, warm flaring hips. He roller her over, kissing her hard, his tongue finding the grooves on the roof of her mouth. She ran her own tongue underneath his, raising her hips and finding that place that made a man want to drive himself to suicide. He leaned on one arm and snaked the other between them, unbuttoning first his jeans, and then her skirt.
She could feel his erection, straining to get closer to her, to get inside her. His fingers nearly tore off her bra, and then his rough warm hands were cupping her breasts, his warm mouth sucking her nipples into his mouth. She moaned, wrapping her bare legs around him, griding deeper, trying to get him to the right place—hard.
She'd recognized him immediately in the lobby. He'd grinned embarrassedly at her. She remembered that expression well—it was so fucking endearing. He'd lift his right arm to the back of his neck, squint his eyes, and tilt his head to the left. "Heya," he'd said.
"Hey hon, long time, no see."
"No kiddin'"
She'd taken in the difference between them—he was obviously part of the hotel staff, and she was obviously a professional, in her tall heels, her white shirt and business skirt, her stockings and breifcase. She considered her move for a moment. He was as handsome as ever, age improving his looks, though he wasn't nearly as buff as he had been in college. "Wanna get a drink?" she asked finally. "I'll buy you a beer or whatever it is men drink nowadays."
