You and I arrive back at our very nice room, a suite actually, after a long day seeing the town. We have spent the day laughing at the little things that make life fun, and funny, when you are with someone special. We saw hallowed ground, the Japanese tablet and the cenotaph, and walked the river. We saw the market, saw the Menger, and did the whole tourist thing.
I am happy to be back at our room. I wanted to leave the hotel bar and retire for some time now, but you, maddeningly, wanted to linger over your Perrier and white wine. You even laughingly chided me for my masculine impatience. Finally though, you were finished, ready to leave and ascend to our suite, specially chosen for its view of the old HemisFair and downtown. That is not a view I am interested in tonight, though.
You unlock the door. That surprises me, you have found your key card before I produce mine. This is an auspicious beginning to a lovely night, or so I hope. You go in ahead of me and tell me to wait in the vestibule. I do, and after a while, as I patiently wait, your voice from the next room tells me to remove my tie and jacket. Then, there is an improbable scent, here? I smell incense and flowers. Flowers, well that's not too surprising, but the incense, where does that come from and why?
After an age of anticipation, perhaps ten minutes, you return to me. Your hair is up and has a flower in it. You look like a virgin sacrifice on some south sea island. My body stirs. You are wearing a shimmery, see- through nightgown. This one I do not recall seeing before, although I must confess to focusing on the woman within. I can see your luscious breasts wobble a bit, begging to be kissed. Your full, erect nipples ask, plead to be sucked. You lift your head, and look into my eyes, and kiss me. Your tongue is sliding into my mouth and your lips are sucking my tongue. You breathe into me, and I feel the warmth filling my chest. My cock, stiffening, quivers and engorges as you offer your warmth, your breath, your touch, to me. I kiss you again.
"Well, Victoria, what does my sweet Yankee lady desire from this Texas gentleman...?"
Again we kiss. I feel your mouth and the warmth of your breasts against me, your nipples hard against my chest. Your lips caress mine, your tongue darts into my mouth. You press into me further, silently sucking my tongue. I feel your warmth-it runs through me, and starts to fill me up. I ask again you what you want, and your reply is mysterious, delivered with a small smile, a little upturn of your lips.
"I want nothing sweet man, but I give you myself."
You giggle a little, and continue, "And more."
What do you have in mind?
You walk me into the sitting room, and then help me remove my shirt while kissing me. I feel the heat from your breasts. I open your gown, and then my hands, unbidden by me, encircle your breasts, my palms gliding over your hard nipples. My thumbs roll the swollen flesh between their forefingers, and I pull them sharply. Your eyelids flutter from the building pleasure, and you shudder, and gasp, quietly.
You continue to kiss me as I fumble with my belt. My shirt is crumpled on the coffee table; my holstered sidearm is laid carefully down beside it. I melt to your kisses. Your touch is urgent, insistent, wanting me. Then, in the middle of a kiss, you stop and take my hand. By now I am wearing nothing, my slacks lie in a heap on the floor, along with my discarded socks and briefs. My cock is hard, straining for you. A little drop of pre-cum shines on the head. I want you, desperately.
My heart shouts, silently, "Lead on, sweet lover, as long as where we go leads to you."
The rest of me can only manage a growl of desire.