Dans Hammer

Greetings, thank you for choosing to read my story. I had a lot of fun writing it.

Because I'm new to this I'll warn you that things might not read right, and I thank you for your patience and understanding.

Warning: excessive humour

Warning: wish fulfillment

Warning: questionable pacing

Warning: too much story

Warning: not enough fucking

Warning: like like like, too many likes

Warning: no editing

Warning: 'hacky' plot points

Warning: not enough detailed descriptions

Warning: no eye colours!

Again, thank you.

------------------------------

Dan's Hammer

------------------------------

Frustrating. Every time I stuck it in, I was rejected. Over and over: nope, nope, nope, nope! Sorry, you just don't measure up; try again!

"Bah!" I gave the hotel door a quick kick. Why did they have to transition from actual room keys to those cards that demagnetize whenever you breathe on them wrong? What I wouldn't give for a sledgehammer right now. It would be so satisfying to throw that weight around, break through the door. All I wanted was to sleep, reset the day, forget it all.

Who am I kidding? I'm too weak to handle a sledgehammer. Figures.

***

It was already 10pm but for whatever reason a bus tour had deposited a mass of people to clog up hotel reception, so I headed instead to the bar to wait it out. There was no sense in me adding to my frustration pushing through a crowd; I figured a slow drink might help to mellow out.

In my opinion, The White Parrot is a bad name for a bar. Truthfully there is no value in a bar name anyway. A bar's true value is maximized as long as it's dark, slightly fuzzy in the corners, and there's at least one other person there when I arrive. I don't ever want to be the sad guy alone in the bar. Fortunately I noticed another soul at the far corner when I arrived, a dark shadow hiding in one of the booths.

I got an orange and vodka from the bartender, sat down at one of the many spare tables, pulled out my phone and began a hopefully productive session of doom-scrolling, content to be the

other

sad guy alone in the bar.

From my seat I could still see the lobby, still hear the tourists. It sounded like they had come from some event, maybe a concert? No, they were dressed conservatively, maybe a play. But they were quite loud, I guess they must have had a great time. Good for them, at least someone had a positive day today. I was jealous.

"Is this seat taken?" From out of nowhere, this striking brunette stood at my table. Where did she come from? Was she borrowing a seat for a group that I had missed? I craned my neck looking around for them, and she just smiled at me. No, there wasn't anyone else around, besides the dark shadow that was now sleeping in his booth.

"No, uh, please, go ahead." I was stunned, I don't ever get approached like this by anyone, let alone someone who appeared so confident and put together.

"My name's Damienne." She sat down beside me and offered her hand, like we were in a business mixer. She looked like she was poured into the charcoal business suit she wore, cut tight in the right places. Fuck business casual, this was Business Sexy.

"Dan. Nice to meet you." I shook her hand, and got a shock.

She laughed, and in an instant I felt calm around her. "Sorry about that, must be the carpet here." Her laugh was warm, gentle. Her eyes smiled at me. I liked that look, a lot. "Dan, I'm here to forget about things for a while, why don't you tell me a story?"

Damienne leaned over to hear me. Her white blouse parted and I caught sight of a lace bra straining under intense pressure. "You looked a bit miffed when you came in. Problem?" And she touched my knee.

No, she grabbed my knee. Not hard, just reassuring, beckoning. I felt a flush on the back of my neck. For a second there the blood rushed into my head, and I fell forward towards the table.

And then

Bing!

I was back, sitting straight up, and the words just flowed out of me like a river. A river of shame and frustration.

"I am a senior at a national accounting firm. I am visiting a regional office, helping on a local audit. My junior is from here, and she's been great this week. All of her work is quite good, but what's more is she's funny, attractive. We actually get along very well, to the point where I think she's flirting with me."

What is going on?

I couldn't stop talking, my pace speeding up. "No, she definitely is flirting with me. She asked me to dinner tonight, it's the end of the week, we should celebrate. I'm excited, we go to a place she knows, it's nice and dark. It has a dance floor too."

A bit of sweat on my brow now, the end of the story approaching. Damienne smiles again. "It's okay."

"We have a bit of our meal, but I'm not too hungry. I'm distracted, she's really close, looking up at me. She asks to dance, I'm excited to get closer." Big exhale. "We're dancing, it's hot, I'm hot, she smells great. The song changes, and she's rubbing against me. I can't believe we're doing this, her lips are so close. I smell her again, behind her ear. And she grabs me, searching for it. It's there, she's got it, but she's judging it."

This time Damienne's smile thins, and she nods. Like she already knew the tale, giving me approval for reciting it correctly.

"I saw her face. It was dark in there, but I could tell, she was disappointed. She had to leave, it was fun but she has to go, she's helping a friend move tomorrow and needs the rest. The firm will pay for this, she'll just get an Uber or something. It was nice to work with me, I can take both doggy bags if I want. Bye."

The last bit exploded out of my mouth, almost pulling my head forward in the process. "Sorry, what the hell...?" I held my head in my hands; the story was embarrassing enough, the verbal diarrhea was a kick in the rear.

Damienne drew her hand away, sat up with her arms crossed, and paused for a moment. Looking around the bar, she seemed to be weighing a decision in her mind. I was fine to just sit in this puddle of shame, maybe I could just melt away without her noticing.

She clicked her teeth. "Okay, I'll help you."

Her smiling eyes returned, and she bent towards me again, her silky dark hair falling towards me. I hadn't noticed how full and vibrant it was before. She must brush it for hours every day. Why did I feel like that might be fun? "You got your key? Let's go up to your room, ride one out. Let's go." She stood up, smoothed her skirt out, and shook her hips a bit, an expectant look on her face.

"What?!? No, sorry, that's okay, please I'm embarrassed already, I don't need..."

a pity fuck.

Was she serious? I had just set a new land speed record for shaming myself in front of a perfect stranger, this was the last thing I needed. Damienne was gorgeous, sure, but given the circumstances I didn't feel like I could give it my 100%. And I had already essentially told her that my 100% was more like 40%. Maybe 41% on a good day. With a headwind.

Damienne leaned over me, one hand on the table and the other on the back of my chair. She got quite close, and I noticed just how perfect her skin was, smooth and unblemished. "Whatever you want, Dan, whatever you want. You're a good guy, and you've had a hard day," emphasis on hard. "You don't need any additional stress."

She placed her hand on my chest, and then stopped, her brows raised, in question. "Are you sure there's nothing you'd like to do?"

To say that I was conflicted was an understatement. When she touched me my heart jumped to attention, as well as my cock. Her full, red lips were so close, and I wanted to pull her onto me. But I was also fucking scared of what she was doing to me. What was going on? Did she know?

There was that smile again. Yes, she knew.

I want to pull my cock out right here and plow you over this table.

"You know what? I think I'm going to get my key and go up and get some rest."

I don't care if my cock is 'cute', to you it's going to be massive, the biggest python you've ever seen.

"Thank you for listening to my little story, I feel a lot better."

You will beg me to pummel your pussy with my huge cock, and I won't ever stop.

"Hey maybe I'll see you tomorrow at the breakfast bar, I'll probably be down around 8."

I stood up, stumbling over the chair legs, breaking our contact. "Hey, have a good night." I nodded to her, turned and broke for the lobby.

I heard her say, "whatever you want." And I could hear her smile.

***

I found it surprisingly easy to push through the throng of people in the lobby, get my key, and boot it up to my room, given my current mood. Nothing was going to stop me, I had to get out of that bar, away from Damienne. Something about her was off, way off.

I mean I liked her, she was stunning, in a "is she going to eat my soul" kind of way. However, I was not prepared to get into some crazy situation where I had no control over myself. I was not convinced that would be fun, at all.

No, I just needed to take a quick shower, wash this night off of me, jump into bed, and lie there until I replayed it all in my mind at least 17 times. Yeah, that would be nice.

The key worked, finally. I broke into the room, tossed my wallet and card onto the side table, and fell face-first onto the bed. I laid there for a bit, and smelled the sheets. Real normal-like. Then pushing myself up, I took a deep breath. I took my time taking off my shoes, and started to unbutton my shirt. I reached for the TV remote, because I enjoy the sound of someone else being there when I'm in a hotel room alone. Click! On. Nice, a weather channel, that would work.

Thunder showers tomorrow. Cheers.

"Fuck!" It came from the hallway, on the other side of my room door. "Fuck!" It sounded like a young woman.

Okay, I should have learned my lesson by now. If I just ignored it I could do my own thing, retire for the night, be well. Buuuuut, those peepholes in hotel doors are just begging to be used, right? When do you actually get to enjoy them? Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I quietly approached my door and "peeped".

Through the fisheye lens I could see a young blond woman standing at the door opposite to my room. She was crouched over the lock, trying to get the card to work, without any luck. I watched her jam it in another time and push the door.

Clunk.

I thought I could see the tension build in her shoulders. "Fuck!" She stamped her foot and threw her shoulder into the door,

Bam.

She paused at the door, her head down, leaning against it. And then she turned, and saw me. Well, she saw my shadow, but damn I'm dumb, what was I thinking, of course she would see it. She bounded over to my door, and started knocking, frantically. "Please, please, please open! I've got to pee, I've got to pee!"

"Okay, okay," I grumbled, and pulled the door open. She had found me out, there was no use in denying it, and I felt like I owed her some kindness to repay for my innocent voyeurism.

She burst into my room, threatening to knock me back against the wall, and bolted into the washroom. "Thank you thank you thank you, sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" The washroom half-clicked closed; I heard her unzip, jump on the seat, and then, "Phew! Ahhhhh." Pause. "Wow! That was almost a predicament! Whew, so lucky." Flush.

"You alright?" I wasn't quite sure what to say, but general concern works in most cases. "Having trouble with the door?" I hope she didn't think I enjoyed spying on her door battle. "I had to get my key replaced earlier, these keys are shit." There, I established that I knew her struggle and valued her for it. No worries.

I heard her washing her hands. "Yeah, I probably had it too close to my phone. They're too sensitive!" She had stopped the water; I pictured her checking herself in the mirror, because it was taking a bit to finish up in there. "Thank you so much for letting me in, I'm so lucky you were up this late to help me." The toilet flushed again, and then the washroom door opened.

And out she walked, this nubile, fresh masterpiece of a woman. Everything about her screamed youth: strawberry blond locks bound in a ponytail, bright eyes free of any makeup, strong athletic figure barely hidden behind a light yellow top with a frill covering her chest, muted denim jeans over slender hips. She gave me a cute smile, paused, and made for the door. "Thanks, you're my hero." Was that young sarcasm, or playful teasing? I enjoyed it either way.

"Oh! Wait!" Her purse was left on my counter, and I reflexively reached out for her wrist to stop her. I'm not sure why my reflex fired there, I don't think of myself as that old man trapping young ladies in their hotel room, but sue me, it just happened. "Your purse!"

Now if you saw that brief touch from the hallway, you would have noticed nothing. But I felt her react: for a half-second it looked to me like she swooned. "Woah," she said, using her free arm for balance, and then holding her forehead. "Woah, that was weird."

"You okay? Sorry, you left your purse." I dropped her arm, gingerly just in case I needed to catch her or something.

"Yeah, um, maybe I just got up too fast. Wow." She turned back to face me. The surprise on her face still looked quite cute. She took a breath, readjusted herself. "Um, hey, do you mind if I just rest a bit in your room? Maybe I can call down for a replacement card to be brought up. Is that okay?"

I hadn't known her for more than a minute, but I'm certain I saw a change in her demeanor. She had started as this cute person ready to dismiss me without judgment, and now I thought I could see a plan forming in her mind. A plan with me as the centerpiece, question mark?

"It's the least I could do." I held the door open for her, fully this time, and half-guided her to the bed. My room actually had two doubles, and she slowly laid down on the one I had not already torn up, and took some calming breaths. I sat on the bed opposite, picked up the remote, and shut off the weather channel. All that you could hear now was the AC unit that never shut off, and the bath fan.

I cleared my throat. "That better? You okay?" I couldn't help noticing the shape of her legs. She was a bit on the tiny side but her legs spoke to me, and they said:

wait until you check out her butt.

"Can I get you some water?"

"Nope." Her eyes closed, she reached out with one hand. "Phone please."

I picked up the receiver, dialed 8 for reception and handed it to her. She was all business. "Hi, this is Tara Johnstone, room 119. Yeah, my keycard is voided or whatever and won't open my door. I'm just over in my friend's room, 120. Could you bring up a replacement? 20 minutes? Sure, okay. Bye." She handed it to me, and I hung up. While she laid on her back, I noticed her top straining to hide her tits fighting against gravity. Old Pervert 1, Innocent Gentleman 0.

Even though her eyes were still closed, I held up my hand. "Hi, I'm Dan."

Tara slowly rolled on her side to face me, propped on one arm, and looked straight into my soul. "Hi Dan, I'm Tara. Nice to meet you." Her smile washed away any concern I had for her condition. She was ready to ask me anything, and proceeded to drill me for my details. "What are

you

here for?"

Tara was also here for work, she actually was here for a trade show this weekend. You know, those hot car shows, with the car girls. Yes, she works as a car girl. Yes, it's a bit demeaning, no, most guys are respectful, yes, she's building a modeling portfolio, no, it's not a long term thing, of course not. No, she doesn't think accounting is boring, but who cares really, it's a job. You look like you play sports, oh a hockey playing accountant? Nice. Yes, she used to be a cheerleader, oh, you used to watch cheerleaders, haha that's funny. No, she hadn't heard that one before. Haha, of course she had, but actually you're pretty cute.

"What?" The conversation was quite comfortable and I lost myself in it, but this was an obvious pass, and I don't get those often enough to dismiss it. I crossed my arms, pinching my lower lip with one hand, in pantomime judgment. "Well you, Tara, are a hot one. And you need to be careful of 'cute' guys in hotel rooms."

What the hell did I say? Geez, where did that come from.

"Oh really?" Tara actually purred. She actually purred!! And slowly moved one leg closer to the side of the bed. The smile on her lips, and moreso in her eyes, told me that I had won a point. Maybe the decisive point. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I could see a dark spot growing in the crotch of her jeans. "Tell me what a cute guy does in a hotel room."

Bingo. You couldn't knock the smile off my face if you used a long-term intangible asset with over 40 years of future economic benefits. No, it doesn't make sense but I swear I won't force another obscure reference, it's fine, she says it's not boring, I know she's lying and I'm ignoring you now la-la-la-la.

Knock, knock.

"Miss Johnstone? I'm here with your key."

Tara smiled at me, and ran her free hand along her outer thigh. I got up, walked to the door, and opened it for the bellhop. He was a kid, ugly longish hair. He wore the hotel shirt ironically.

"Good evening, is Miss Johnstone here?" The dude shook the key in front of my nose. "I really should give it to her, hotel policy."

Tara giggled, out of sight of the kid. "It's okay, he's my lov-er." More laughter.

"O-kay." The kid could not roll his eyes any further into the back of his head. He handed me the key.

"Thanks, all right, seeya." I closed the door, turned around and

BAM!

Tara was on me immediately.

***

She had already lost her top, and as she pushed me up against the door, I grabbed her waist and we shared the most passionate kiss I had experienced in a decade. She smelled so sweet; I loved the feel of her bare breasts pressed up against my chest through my shirt. In two seconds she had unzipped her jeans mid-kiss, and then broke it to kneel in front of me to yank my pants off. Both my briefs and pants at the same time, and she was eye to eye with my manhood.

"There you are, cutie!" Without missing a beat, she inhaled my cock. At first I thought that she had swallowed it and my balls at the same time, but no, the way her undulating tongue teased the underside of my dick convinced me otherwise.

"My

god!

" Tara was an expert, I was instantly hard, and I absent-mindedly took her hair in my hand. She had both hands on my thighs, and her head bobbed up and down on my member, burying her nose on the downstroke, and giving me the most beautiful eyes on the upstroke. It was the sloppiest suction I had ever heard this side of a porn video, and within a minute I had nearly lost it.

I pulled her off, and she immediately started pumping me with her hand. I had never been harder, and my dick looked so thick in her small hand, it was such a pleasing sight. "You're a grower, eh? You have a nice cock." I could not argue with that devilish smile, any trace of doubt or shame had already left me, possibly along with the pre-cum Tara had swallowed. She stood up, with my cock still in her hand, and pulled me to the bed. "Come with me, Dan."

As I pulled my shirt over my head, I noticed that she wore no panties. Even facing away from me, I could see that she had a perfect set of natural breasts that stood at attention, swaying as she walked. When she turned to push me onto my back on the bed, her tits came into full view and -- cue the singing angels -- a gorgeous pair of retrousse breasts, boldly sitting atop her ribcage, pointing ever so slightly away from each other, stared back at me as I fell onto the soft bed. She smiled and, reading my mind, slowly cupped them, kneading them softly while she lifted one knee onto the bed.