Ill Come To Your Hotel Room

I knock on the door of his hotel room, quickly, lightly. I wait, my heart beating. He opens it, and smiles down at me, crinkling his blue eyes. I feel a familiar warmth low in my stomach, seeping down to between my thighs.

I'm reminded of the times we've walked past each other, how my heart beat just that much faster and my breathing quickened when I saw him. How many of those were chance encounters and how many were by design? By him? Or unconsciously by me?

I take a deep breath and walk in, aware of him close behind me. I'm wearing a tight, dark pink satin dress. I turn around to see him watching me intently.

"I've been in the shower," he says, gesturing to his robe. "Do you want a drink?" I've only ever seen him in a suit before, sharp and sleek. I have a sudden vision of him scrubbing his back, soap running between his arse cheeks and down his thighs and I feel myself redden. Even though he knows exactly what I'm here for.

"Yes," I say. My throat is dry and it comes out as a stammer, uncertain. Not exactly how I intended. I look out the floor-to-ceiling windows, across the city. I can see my apartment from here, but I feel far away, a little disassociated.

He can see I'm nervous. He pours me a glass of wine and starts a light, conversational patter - what's been in the news, stories about mutual acquaintances. He glosses over certain topics adroitly. We haven't had a proper conversation before, not really, but he's funny and interesting tonight, expert at putting people at ease. I start to relax, to breathe more easily, especially after the wine kicks in. He reminds me of a horse trainer, whispering softly to his new acquisition to calm her down.

He sits close to me as he talks. He is broad-shouldered and he spreads his arm out on the couch between us. His fingers are close enough to touch my hair, my ear.

He sees me looking down at his hand and grins. "Come a bit closer," he says and puts his hand around my waist. I reach out to touch his knee, feeling wiry hair and firm muscle. I move my hand a little higher towards his inner thigh, where his skin is smoother. He catches my face in his hand and kisses me firmly before pulling me to sit on his lap. I kiss him back, wriggling around until, delighted, I feel his hard cock digging into my arse through his robe and my dress. He runs his hands up my stockinged legs before he reaches my suspenders. He snaps one of them and rubs and squeezes my arse.

"Straddle me,'" he says, his voice rough. I stand up, pull my dress over my head and spread my legs on either side of his. I sit on his lap again, this time with my tits pressed up against his face and my pussy gratifyingly closer to his cock. He pulls both of my tits out of my lacy bra, and cradles them, sucking first one and then the other. He is careful with my nipples - almost worshipful - sucking and swirling his tongue around them as they stiffen from his attention.

I grind my pussy against his hardness, feeling desperate for more of him, the scratchy lace of my g-string increasing my wetness. He reaches down to slip a finger into me.

He laughs. "Fuck you're wet. Who would have thought you were such a little slut?"

I don't answer him but can't help moaning when he slips a second finger in. He pulls his fingers out, licks them and then pushes me onto the couch, forcing my legs apart.

He pulls my g-string to the side of my pussy, pulling it tight against my sensitive buttcrack. He spreads my pussy lips and begins licking me, long slow strokes from my arse to my clit, and then painting large circles across my outer lips. He is searching for what I want, using his tongue like a dowsing rod to find gold. I guide his head to where I want it, and his beautiful, clever mouth presses down, licks and nibbles at just the right spots around my clit. He pushes his fingers into me - three, and stretching me to four as I get increasingly wet. With his other hand he squeezes and tugs one of my nipples. He slowly fucks me with his hand, until I cum quickly and violently. He leaves his fingers in me for a moment, feeling my pussy spasm around them, then sloppily kisses my clit, my stomach, my breasts, my mouth while stroking his cock, his stubbly chin wet from my juice and his saliva. I'll feel a prickly rash that reminds me of him the next day.

"Get down," he says, and I move quickly to kneel and take his cock. It is magnificent. Thick, warm, firm. I admire the drop of pre cum pearling at the head before I lick it delicately, swirling with my tongue before turning to the silky smooth skin of his shaft. I take his cock in both hands and guide it into my mouth. I feel greedy, swallowing as much of him as I can in one go. I begin a steady bobbing, concentrating on taking him as deeply as I can. I move my hand to his balls and cradle them in my hand, rolling and squeezing them gently. He holds my head and thrusts deeply into my throat so that I can't breath for a few moments.

He grabs my ponytail and pulls me to standing, holding me close while I get my breath back. His body is so warm and I reach up around his neck. I can smell his sweaty, musky scent when I touch my lips to his shoulder. "I'm going to fuck you now," he whispers.

He spins me around and pushes me forward so that I fall on the couch. He gives my butt a couple of quick, smarting slaps and then slips a finger inside me. "You want my cock in you, don't you my little slut," he murmurs in my ear. It's a statement, not a question but I answer him anyway by pushing my arse into his groin and grinding. He groans and pushes me away, holding my arse firmly in place while he rubs his cock on my wet slit. I spread my legs a little so he has a better view and tilt my hips so he can move into me more easily. He presses himself slowly into my tight cunt. The feeling of fullness when he enters shocks me, and I gasp in surprise.

He holds my hips while he slides in and out of me, slowly at first until he builds into a steady rhythm, deeply thrusting. I reach between my legs and begin rubbing my clit urgently. I feel his breathing in my ear, hot and ragged. The combination of sensations builds up until it becomes too much, and I cum in a shaking, crying orgasm. I can feel my pussy clenching hard around his cock, and with a grunt he gives a final thrust into me, shuddering.

We fall on the couch, still panting. He holds onto my waist tightly, his breath on my ear. After a little time, I try to move his arm, but he won't let go. Not at the moment.