We’ve both been anticipating this for some time. Today is finally the day. It’s hard for me to imagine that you are as excited about this meeting as I am, but I hope you are. I’m glad we’re going to have a drink first, because I need something to slow me down a little (although not too much – I have big plans for our meeting!).
The hotel bar is not terribly busy when we meet at 7 p.m. It’s a pleasant place, a bit dark and with several secluded tables. I’m waiting for you when you arrive and we order drinks. We sit, we smile at each other, we visit quietly. For me, the scotch has a dual effect. It relaxes me physically, but in so doing it enhances my sense of emotional arousal. And it loosens my brain so that I begin to imagine our togetherness when we move to the room. It feels good.
And you look terrific. Your beautiful hair offers the perfect frame for your lovely face – shining eyes, sexy nose (who knew a nose could be so sexy?), and perfect, sensual mouth. I love your self-assurance, your knowledge that the combination of your very beautiful face and your ample curves are such an extreme turn-on for men. I know that you could have just about any man you want. I am awestruck that you allow me to be with you.
We chat idly, and you occasionally touch my hand. Once, you even slide your fingers up my sleeve and move them very provocatively through the hair on my forearm. In my groin, I sense the vague stirring that I want you to feel as well. So I boldly place my right hand on your left thigh, that full, beautiful, extremity. You smile at me. I reach under your skirt and explore the inner thigh.
“Let’s go,” you say.
Outside the room, I fumble the card that opens the electronic lock. You laugh at me, tickled by my nervousness.
We step into the room, and I hit the light switch. One lamp in the room comes on. I look at you, wanting to know if you want more light.
“It’s perfect,” you tell me.
And with that you reach both arms around my neck and kiss me deeply. God, your lips are so full. The sensation is indescribable. I pull you to me, feeling the swelling of your breasts through the jacket you are wearing and through the fabric of my blazer. I become aroused in response to your insistent lips. You slide your tongue into my mouth. Our tongues do a gentle dance for a few moments, and we break the kiss.
You begin to slide my blazer off my shoulders. I finish the job and hang it – of course, fumbling all the hangers with a noisy clatter – in the closet. You, meanwhile, have leaned provocatively against the wall across from the closet, arms and legs both crossed as you patiently wait for me. Your folded arms emphasize and lift your breasts slightly. I swallow hard.
I take you by the hand and lead you the few steps into the room, nicely appointed with a king-size bed, two comfortable chairs, a loveseat, and an attractive work desk with a straight chair. I turn you so that you face the mirror, and I stand behind you. What I’m about to do I’ve been dreaming of since you and I first met.
“Look at yourself,” I say. “You are an incredibly beautiful and desirable woman.”
I place my hands at your waist. You smile, fold your arms around mine, and lean back against me.
“Madam, I’d like you to grant me your permission to undress you. And I’d like to do it right here so that you can watch me as I remove each article of your clothing and so that you can watch me as I use my hands to explore your gorgeous body. May I?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “You may.”
I kiss the back of your head, and I part your hair at the back of your neck so that I can nuzzle you. With my fingers, I gently massage your neck and I pull the top of your rib-knit sweater down in back so that I can kiss at least a few inches of your upper back.
You turn your head to the side appreciatively. I look into the mirror and see your reflection smiling at me.
I pull your jacket off your shoulders.
“Don’t move,” I tell you. I hang the jacket up next to my blazer and I return to my position behind you.
You hold your arms at your side. I caress both of them, enjoying the feel of the firm flesh. Then I reach under your arms and place my hands once again on your tummy. You leave your hands at your side, allowing me the freedom to place mine where ever I want.
I want you to begin feeling warm in your most sensitive places, so I move both my hands slowly down your belly, across the fabric of your skirt. You tilt your head back against my shoulder and pivot your pelvis forward against the pressure of my hands as they work their way downward. I reach your crotch, and press firmly against the enticing mound that I can feel even through your clothes. I lift slightly and pull you until you I’ve almost lifted you off the floor; you are barely standing on your toes. You gasp at the sensation. I hold you for a few seconds, looking at your face in the mirror. Your eyes are closed and you are biting your lower lip.
I release my grip on your crotch and return my hands to your waist. You open your eyes and look through the mirror at me. I reach under your sweater with both hands and begin to move them up your warm belly. As I feel the fabric of your bra, I place my hands under your breasts and lift them up, enjoying the mirror-reflected vision of the swell against the fabric of your sweater. I move my hands up and onto the tops of your breasts, feeling the bare skin. With my fingers, I trace the lacy top of your bra across each of your luscious tits.
I am so aroused by the feelings I am experiencing as I love you with my hands. It pleases me that you too appear to enjoy my attention. Your chest heaves slightly with your deepening breathing, and you have noticed the swelling in my trousers against which you now push your ample behind.
I can’t resist the temptation anymore. I place my hands full onto your breasts and I marvel at the feel of the already-aroused nipples against my palms. I drag my fingers outward against your breasts, provoking your nipples further. You moan. I take hold of each nipple, twist lightly, pull gently, push in hesitantly. Your hips move back and forth, and your breathing becomes even deeper.
We are both beginning to be very turned on. I continue to fondle your nipples, enjoying your moaning and the gentle rocking back and forth of your hips. Your eyes, which had been closed, open and I can tell that you are watching as my hands caress you under your sweater. Then our eyes lock through the reflection in the mirror. You turn your head toward my face, lift your lips to mine, and close your eyes. We kiss – a very gentle but very wet kiss – as I continue to stimulate your wonderful nipples. You continue to moan and sway.
While my left hand continues to attend to your breasts, I move my right hand rapidly down – still outside your skirt – to your pelvis. I place it firmly onto your mound. I feel a slight quiver from you, and I feel you push forward against my hand. I believe you are worked up enough that with some insistence on my part and with some delicate use of both my hands, I can help you experience your first orgasm, before you’ve even removed anything other than your jacket.
I reach with my left hand under the fabric of your bra so that I can no stimulate your nipple more directly. I use my right hand more aggressively – pushing, releasing, pushing, releasing – and I feel the movement of your hips responding to my touch. I push more firmly as I feel your movement rocking rhythmically against the flexing of my hand. I continue to pinch each nipple, a few seconds for one and a few seconds for another.
Moments go by. I look at your face reflected in the mirror. Eyes closed, held tilted slightly back. You are close. I continue the work of my hands.
Suddenly, a light cry. You appear to experience an orgasm of sudden intensity but that does not linger. Your body goes momentarily rigid. I hold your breast and keep my hand against your mound, but I no longer try to stimulate you. I let the brief wave of the orgasm wash over you, knowing when you open your eyes and look in the mirror that it will have subsided.