Pati

Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat, and the ass is a bum or arse.

I apologise for any typo errors in my story - I edit these myself, and I'm not perfect...

This is a continuation of my Pati series, reading the previous stories will give useful context.

After dinner I wandered around the hotel a little, looked at the Piano bar, it was exactly as described, a bar with a piano. Someone was playing something like an old Cole Porter or Noel Coward number and someone else was stood in front of a microphone destroying the lyrics.

The bar keep looked at me as I ducked back out. That was not for me. There was a sports bar, I didn't even put my head in through the door, and that left me with the club lounge. As I wandered up to the door it whisked open before me.

"Madam, are you joining us for a cocktail tonight?"

"Oh, yes, I suppose I could have one."

"Very good madam. If you would care to follow me. In the room or on the terrace madam. Smoking is only permitted on the terrace."

"Well that solves it for me then," I laughed, "room it is."

"Yes madam." He led me to a small sofa covered in rather nice white sculptured linen, and I sat and relaxed back into the sofa, looking through the cocktail list. There were so many, I just decided, what the hell, I was on holiday, someone else was paying.

"Long Island Iced Tea it will be please."

"Yes madam." He wrote it down on a little pad and took it to a barman behind the small corner bar. He returned with a small selection of figs, dates and nuts on a plate. I was mildly amused that he didn't check my room number, as only certain rooms were allowed to use the club facilities, obviously being in a Club Junior Suite, I could. I read the small information sheet on the club lounge. High Tea was served at 1500, cocktails 1900 -- 2200 and continental breakfasts 0700 -1000.

Newspapers from many countries were available as was a selection of magazines and books. DVDs could be borrowed for use in your room. Well, I didn't come on holiday to spend time watching the TV, so that didn't interest me. A small white fluted edge doily was put before me and a highball with a hotel brand stirrer. I thanked him and took a sip. Wow, yes, okay, that packed a punch!

I sat back and let the warmth of the spirits in my Long Island trickle through and they provided a slightly numbing sensation to my body which, after the abuse at the hands of other recently, was in need of a little numbing.

"May I join you?"

I looked up. I didn't recognise the speaker, or the accent. He was probably about my age, possibly a little younger, he had jet black hair, probably died as there was a fair amount of silver in his eyelashes, and a rather trim body.

"You may." Well, I was hardly going to say 'no, fuck off' was I?

"My name is Nikolai, I am from Moscow, and I am here having a little holiday from some business I am doing in the city."

"Hello Nikolai, I am Pati. I am just having a little holiday." Well, I was. No point in saying any more, was there?

"I saw that you seemed to be alone, as I was alone, it occurred to me what a travesty it was that we sat alone, when there was so much that we have in common and so little time to share."

Jesus what a load of bollocks, Russian bollocks it seems, are no different to anyone else's bollocks. I looked at my watch and then back at him.

"Sorry, how much time until the end of the world? Is it worth setting an alarm so i can make sure I am awake?"

He laughed out loud and drained his drink, slamming the empty glass on the table and waving for a waiter who, as is often the case I have noticed, managed to appear almost instantly the hand was waved.

"Two more here." He instructed and then looked back at me. "I looked at you," he said, "I looked at you and I knew here was a woman who was no klute, no fool. A woman with vodka for blood, spirit in her veins." He pronounced vodka as if it was spelt wodka, and there had been plenty in my Long Island, so yes, it did feel like my veins were full of 'wodka'

"Well, I am British, I am supposed to have Tea in my veins."

"So your drink, it is what?"

"Well, it is close, it is a Long Island Iced Tea"

"Ha ha, I love your British sense of humour, you have drink made with vodka and name it after an American place and call it Tea. This is good humour I think." The waiter returned with the drinks, my new Russian friend threw some dirham notes on the tray the drinks had arrived on. God, he is lucky. Women are not expected to say 'thank you' with money, oh bloody no, we have to do something else. Well, I guess if you're a cheap bint, then it's easy being a woman.

"What business are you in?" I asked him.

"I am in oil derivatives, and that is the most totally boring subject a man can be in. I can tell you nothing because there is nothing to tell."

"Oh come in, how can that be," I laughed, I just felt he was being a bit vague, every man I ever knew would go on for hours about his job. It didn't matter what the job was, they would go on for hours and hours. To meet a man that wouldn't was a little odd.

"Well partly it is all chemical formulas and unless you are a microbiologist or chemist, it is meaningless, partly because some of the work I do is for Governments, and partly because it is so dull it would, let me see, what is your term, yes, I have it. It would bore the underclothes from you. Yes?"

I found myself laughing and I suspect it was more the Long Island than his humour. "So, what you are saying is that you would bore my knickers off and you do not want to get my kickers off." I should have blushed red, I cannot believe I just said what I said, it really had to be the drink.

"Now you are putting words into my mouth where they have not left from. I am not saying that I would not enjoy removing your knickers," and his eyes were fixed very firmly in mine and the, as he spoke, his eyes slowly travelled down my body, pausing for a while at my breasts, and then stopping, boring through my dress almost, at my crotch.

Thank God he was a normal man. "Indeed, that could be interesting and pleasurable, no I am afraid that telling you of my work would be of such profound disinterest to you that you would be asleep in your chair. How then could I tell a woman, deafened by sleep, of my prowess, and the hunting for bears I do in the great white that is Siberia, how the cold is so severe that if you sneeze, your snot is frozen, and it tears your handkerchief? No, Pati I wish to amaze you, not curl you up into sleep like a baby rabbit."

He did go on a bit. I noticed that his interest levels seemed to have increased, there was a definite filling out of the crease in his trousers at his crotch.

"And how do you wish to amaze me Nikolai? I have to say that killing poor bears in a forest does not excite me, and anything cold fills me with shivers."

"Ah but they stir passion in you, perhaps not a passion of love, but a passion none the less, and passions once stirred need outlets, they need to be released."

I suppose he had a point; it did raise something in me, and looking at his crotch, it definitely had raised something in him. I hadn't noticed, but our drinks had been refreshed whilst we were talking. God I was going to be pissed at this rate. I decided to leave the drink and not touch any more. "And how would you propose to release them then Nikolai?" I asked him as I sipped at my drink, forgetting that I had decided to forego it.

"Oh now Pati, there are many ways, we could dance to the music of Tchaikovsky, the singing of the violin strings in his concerto filling our hearts, we could walk arm in arm under the stars of the great cosmos, we could swim naked in the hotel pool, diving like the great beluga of the Caspian, there are so many ways to share passion Pati, so many ways."

"Well Nikolai," I said between sips of my drink, "I had a good look around the hotel earlier and I am sure that I would have noticed an orchestra tuning up."

"Aha, well you see, the great passions are always with me." He pulled an iPod from his pocket and handed an earpiece to me. I listened, yes, it was classical and it sounded a bit like Swan Lake, although I wasn't sure, I just knew it wasn't 1812.

"The mother country is never far from my heart," he said, "perhaps, you would care for a walk under the stars?"

Well, I just knew I didn't want any more drinks, I was feeling quite tipsy, and I don't really like that feeling. "Yes, some air would be good." I stood up and realised just how tipsy I was. It took all my concentration not to fall straight back down again, my legs really did not seem to want to work anymore.

He took my elbow which provided a rather useful steady for me. I saw him drop some more dirhams on the table and we left, his arm around me providing a useful support. We walked a little along the path, away from the bustle of the bars and the late eaters in the restaurant. He stopped us and pushed an earpiece into my ear, putting the other into his.

Music filled my head, orchestral sounds swooping and soaring notes, the music seeming having a motion of its own. He took my hand and put his other arm around me. "Let's dance my little kartofelya" and he whisked us along the path in time, I think to the music in our ears.

I had no idea what a kartofelya was and to be honest my head was swimming a little with the alcohol from the Long Islands and I think I just hung on for dear life. I do know that he was enjoying the moment, his cock was quite informative on that subject, as we danced closely, turning and pirouetting along the path. He twirled me and we stopped.

"This is my suite kartofelya, would you care for a small nightcap?" I don't think I said no, I am sure I didn't say yes, but before I knew it, we were inside his suite, which seemed just a bigger version of my room.

"I just need the loo," I said as my senses swirled and I headed off to the bathroom, pulling my knickers down I sat and emptied my bladder. As I wiped myself I realised I hadn't shut the door and I could see him watching me in the mirror. I stood up and pulled my knickers back up, making a bit of a show of tidying my knicker's hems, just making sure I was comfortable of course.

I washed my hands and flushed and went back out. He handed me a glass and said "pyel do dna" as he threw his own glass of drink down his throat, "come on kartofelya, drink up".

I took a sip, it was vodka, I never was keen on neat vodka, and I had already had far too much alcohol. I put the glass down and shook my head. He took my hand and twirled me round, I found myself in the classic arm around the shoulder dance pose. He pressed a button on a remote in his hand, dropped the remote as Tchaikovsky filled the room and he led. We danced a twirl here, a swirl there, it was, to me, a bit of a blur until I found his lips on mine, his body pressing against me, his arousal as obvious as before.

His lips were insistent and seemed somehow glued to mine, it seemed only right to return the kiss. His tongue probed and I gasped a little as his cock pressed at my crotch, my mouth opening and allowing his tongue to press home. The arm around my shoulders dropped to my waist and then my backside, his fingers pressing between my cheeks, and then I realised I had been picked up.

He carried me through to his bedroom and lay me on the bed. He slipped my shoes off and then at my hips, his hands pulled down my knickers and I felt that blow of cool air as my fanny was exposed to the air. He pulled me to a sitting position and undid the zip on my dress, pulling it down and exposing my bra, lifted my hips and pulled the dress fully off me. I put my hands behind my back and undid my bra, pulling it down my arms and dropping it off the bed onto the floor as he took his shirt off.

He slipped his shoes off and then took his watch from his wrist, dropping it onto the small chest at the foot of the bed, his trousers and underwear came off in a blur, I wasn't sure whether it was the speed he worked at, or the alcohol in my brain. One moment he had trousers on, the next I was staring at a hard cock growing up from a wiry forest of grey and black hairs.

I shuffled across the bed, and he sat and then lay next to me, his hand massaging my left breast, tweaking the nipple and rolling it between his finger and thumb before his hand trailed down my stomach and found my fanny. A finger teased my lips apart and pressed my clitoris, a small tingle shot up to my throat, small stabs shooting off to my breasts and nipples on the way.

I reached sideways and found his cock, rolling his skin up and down his shaft and then moved down and held his balls. They were well sized and the plums inside felt firm as I gently rolled them within his sac before returning to his shaft. As I pulled his skin down a finger teased my fanny and pushed in me, his remaining fingers bent and the knuckles pushing hard in my fanny slit, it felt good, and I must have let out a small appreciative gasp.

He rolled over me, my hand still holding his cock, and as he took his hand away from my fanny to steady himself, I lined up his cock and slid it along between my lips and aimed it at my hole. He pushed. I was slick and ready, and he filled me, his balls between my legs, his hairs tickling, his cock stretching me. It felt so good to have a man fucking me rather than just using me.

He moved his cock in me slowly, his abdomen rubbing against me, pushing my clitoris into me and then rubbing it back and forth. His cock felt ribbed, and I could feel his veins as his shaft moved within me, his cock rim moving like a wave inside me, a little sensation on my inner thighs as the hairs on his balls tickled.

I had my arms around him, I could feel his shoulder blades under my fingers as he flexed back and forth, his skin was tight and toned. A slightly deeper push from him and my clitoris hummed, and a real tingle shot through me, my fingers flexed as I mouthed an 'ooh', and my nails dug into him.

That seemed to spur him, and his movements became harder, pushing a little deeper, his pubis squashing my clitoris, the stimulation running through my groin and my breasts, my nipples almost on fire as they jutted hard into his chest. The tightening in my fanny gripped his cock even more, and his cock rim pushed harder inside me, it felt like I was being scraped clean, his balls were squashing against me, his arms under me, his arms upturned and hands gripping at my shoulders, using me as leverage as he fucked.

He started to pant, and through my drunken haze I realised my breath was shortening, his weight was heavy on me, but all I felt was my fanny full and the sensation as he moved within me, and the growing tingle coming from my clitoris. He pulled back, his cock almost coming out, my fanny felt empty, and I held my breath.

He slammed back into me, driving the breath from my body as his cock drove through my fanny, a stream of tingles and shocks shooting out as he rubbed hard against my clitoris, a howl from him as my nails dug into his back, the pain of the ecstasy as my orgasm burst and I clamped around him, trying to curl up, trying to go into a ball as he drive into me, wanting him to stop, wanting to breath as my orgasm waned and my clitoris began to protest, but he did not stop.

He pulled back again, almost out and this time I was relieved at the void, relieved that I was empty, that the pressure was off my clitoris, his weight off my breasts, and I breathed in. He drove into me again, hard and then pulled back, his fucking now fast and frenzied, his cock hard and my fanny wet and used, I could not squeeze or grip him, my fanny was tired, my orgasm had been and gone.

His abdomen was really hitting at me now, my clitoris began to send small shots out once more, a tingle and then a shock of exquisite pain as his cock rim scraped my insides. His nails dug deep into my shoulders as he pulled himself, trying to climb inside me as his fuck crescendo peaked and I felt the shots from his cock as his balls erupted and as he drove into me again a squirt shot out from my fanny and I felt the coolness of his come on my thigh and I cried and I groaned as a second orgasm cut through me, his body slowing and I felt the hardness of his cock diminish.

He lay slumped on me, his softening cock still in my fanny. I gulped some breaths and began to come down. My head was swimming a little still, too much alcohol, and his weight made it difficult to breath. There was an unpleasant trickle down my backside as my fanny leaked his juices and I knew that I would be laying in the cold and damp spot.

I opened my eyes, blinking at the brightness of the room lights, unsure of where I was, the bedside clock showing 02:15. I heard a soft snore to my side and turned my head. Nikolai lay on his back, his cock limp between his legs, an arm over his eyes, a gently snore escaping from his mouth. I edged to the side of the bed and slipped out, picking my clothes up and going into the sitting room.

I rolled a tissue from the box on the table and pushed it into my fanny to act as a plug until I got back to my room, pulled my knickers on and stepped into my dress. Put my bra into my handbag, slung it over my shoulders, checked that I had everything and let myself out. I started to walk back to my room, not really sure where I was on the complex, and so decided to head to the bar area and back track from there. A voice spoke quietly and really made me jump.

"Madam, I will walk with you." I looked at where the voice came from, it was the man I had presumed was a security guard that I had seen by my room.

"Oh, thank you, yes, I am not sure of my bearings."

"That is okay madam."

My head was still a little mushy, those Long Islands had really squished my brain, and in the end, I wasn't sure how many I drank, at least three I thought, but it may have been more. It had been a good evening; Nikolai had been a bit of a laugh, and I had enjoyed his idiotic dancing, the fuck had been good and honest and my crotch still felt tingly, his fuck had touched the spot I needed.

My guard led me back to my room and waited as I opened the door, and with a slight tremble in my voice I asked

"How may I thank you?"

"Madam, I..."

I knew that he wanted something but was nervous to say, his job may depend on it, but I really wasn't in the mood. I wanted to just get in and wash, I didn't want any more 'moments' that may make me sore and wear me out. I wondered if I could get away with just a little thank you.

"Let me help you a little perhaps?" I said as I rested my hand on the front of his trousers, feeling the bulge grow as his cock hardened.

"I am not allowed into your room madam" he said, a tremor in his voice.

"That is ok, perhaps we will be fine outside." I moved to stand behind him and reached my arms around him and undid his zip. Pulling the fly open, his cock sprang free, again no underwear. I held his cock and began to wank him, trying to imagine I was a man and that the cock was mine. I squeezed him hard in my hand and moved as quickly as I could, trying to make my strokes the full length of his cock.

He rested his palms against the wall, stooping slightly forward as I worked his cock. I squeezed and wanked and thought it would be strange to be a man, to have to be frenetic to work myself to orgasm, as a woman it was more about gentle touching and stroking. I realised that he was spurting, his cock felt wet in my hand as his come splashed against the outside wall of my room and then dribbled across my fisted fingers. I decided that if I did this again my free hand would rub my clitoris in time with the wank, just to see if there were an effect.