Seattle Road Trip

Jennifer offered to do her friend a favor. Chris had two cats that she couldn't take with her as her family moved to the Seattle area, but once she was settled in her home, she could take them back. There was a gap of about a month when she had nowhere she could keep her cats, and boarding them for that amount of time was prohibitive. So, Jennifer offered to house (or find homes) for the cats for the month period, and then drive them up in early February.

She called another friend, Misty, and asked if she was up for a road trip. Then she checked her calendar and found a week that was more or less clear - they would leave around noon on Friday, February 3rd, and return by Thursday or Friday the next week. They made plans to see the Space Needle, the beautiful surrounding lake areas, and a few friends that lived up in Seattle.

The drive took all of Friday and Saturday, and Jennifer and Misty met Chris on Sunday. They stayed the day with Chris in order to visit and sightsee. Once they had dropped off their cargo at Chris' house, they selected a motel to stay in for the few days.

On Monday, Jen left Misty relaxing in the room while she took off to meet one special friend in particular for lunch. She wore a form-fitting black silk T-shirt, with a slight turtleneck, over a beautiful flowing lavender and black paisley printed skirt, which came down to her ankles, flaring at the hem. She had on warm black woolen tights (against the chill Seattle winter) and adorable black zip-up ankle boots with a solid two-inch heel. Her hair was lightly curled, and fell gracefully over her shoulders. She wore contact lenses, and her makeup accented her gorgeous green eyes. She was a-twitter with anticipation. She would be seeing "an old friend" from Claremont. "An old flame" was a more apt description for Donald. They worked together once upon a time at the college computer lab, and were drawn together almost magnetically from the first time they met. They were a perfect match for one another - their needs and desires were in constant concert. Now, nearly 25 years later, they would be meeting over a 'harmless' lunch. She knew she had to meet him in public, in a safe environment, or risk throwing herself at him and ripping his clothes off in a fit of passion.

She entered the quiet, dim-lit restaurant and shrugged off her warm mantle and scarf, hanging them on a coat tree she found near the entrance. The maitre-d' greeted her and inquired as to whether she'd be dining alone. "No, I'm meeting a friend...do you know if he has arrived? The name is Donald," she replied.

Peering over the rim of his glasses, he consulted his seating list. "Actually, yes, he arrived a few moments before you and is waiting at the bar. Right this way, madam."

Jennifer nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and followed the man. He directed her toward the bar, and returned to his post. She wove her way through several small tables and approached the bar. As she neared, a gentleman seated at the bar swiveled on his stool and caught her eye. He stood and immediately walked to her. Smiling, he took her elbow and said, "Hello, Jennifer...you are as beautiful as ever," and kissed her on the cheek. His arms enclosed her in a fierce, tight embrace, and they stood there for a moment, clutching each other and rocking slightly. The bar was nearly deserted, and they were disturbing no one.

She heard his voice softly in her ear. "Care for a drink before lunch?"

"Absolutely," she purred, pulling away a little. "But don't think you can ply me with liquor...I intend to keep my wits about me today!"

He chuckled lightly and said, "You misunderstand me, darling. I'm as gentle as a lamb. No need to fear." But the light in his eyes belied his words, and she shivered with arousal. As they took their seats at the bar, she leaned into him, lightly stroking her breasts against his arm and arching slightly. "I'll have a long island ice tea," she murmured in his ear, "and you'd better order a second one for me right away."

While they waited for their drinks, he leaned close and whispered in her ear, "It is so good to see you...nothing's changed, don't you know that?" He stayed close, breathing in the scent of her hair and nuzzling her cheek with his nose. She placed her hand on his chin, directed his lips to hers, saying, "A proper hello kiss is called for, don't you agree?" and gently pressed her lips to his. Then she took his bottom lip between both of hers and stroked it with her tongue. His mouth opened slightly, and they shared a 'first kiss' of sorts, with all the chemistry and electricity and promise of newness.

Donald pulled back and stroked her hair, looking at and searching her eyes. "I missed you so much. Jennifer, darling, please don't ever leave me again." Jennifer was speechless as she looked at him, observing the way he drank in the sight of her like a thirsty man in the desert.

"I...still live a thousand miles away, Donald, and trips like these are next to impossible to manage...I...I guess I need to know what you want of me..."

"I know where you live, and I know who you are. It just matters to me that your heart is open to me and that you will never close me out again. It matters to me that you still want and crave me as I do you. It matters to me that you feel safe with me, and that we understand one another."

"Well, then, I will never leave you again, Donald," she said, breathlessly. The bartender brought their drinks and she sipped hers, desperately needing to cool the heat she felt in her head and her heart. The heat was like a fever, and she felt dizzy with desire for this man. As the cool liquor slid across her lips and tongue and down her throat, she was seized by a very different image, one not nearly so cooling. She closed her eyes, but the image remained. She looked up at Donald, and it seemed as though he were projecting his ideas into her mind via telepathy. She giggled, and asked, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Almost certainly," he grinned, and she was struck again by his gentlemanly formality in contrast to his wanton lustfulness, which he had not yet displayed, but which she knew lingered just beneath the surface of thin veneer of propriety and cordiality that he assumed in public.

"Excuse me, but your table is ready. Please follow me." The host led the way through the restaurant to a cozy table for two by a window. The rain pattered against the panes, and the candlelight on the table reflected cheerily in the window. The white damask tablecloth was lovely, and Jennifer and Donald took their seats opposite one another. The table was small enough that they could reach easily across and touch each other's hands, and their knees grazed one another's under the table linens. Jennifer didn't even glance at the menu, but asked Donald to order for the both of them. Then she sipped more of her drink, and began to relax slightly. The alcohol definitely helped. And while she was determined to make this meeting safe, public, and relatively brief, she knew that her defenses were lowering even as Donald expertly gave the waiter their order.

Her cell phone buzzed in her purse, and she flipped it open, murmuring an apology as she did so. The number was local; she supposed it could be Misty at the motel. "Hello? ... Yes, Misty, I'm here at the restaurant... How's your day going? ... You're getting a cab and hitting the mall? ... Okay, but if you want to wait, we can go out later... Oh, okay. Well, check the movie listings. It might be fun to take in a flick while we're here. Okay. Thanks for the call. Okay, keep safe, and I'll pick you up downtown when I'm done." She glanced up at Donald and dropped her voice lower as she again averted her eyes, "Uh-huh. What time is it now? Noon or so? Hmm. Don't expect me before...3:30 or 4:00 pm. Give me a call when you are ready? ... Okay. Thanks. ... Yes, I will. ... Love you, too. Bye." She flipped closed, and looked up at Donald, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"Long lunch date, don't you think? Three or four?"

Changing the subject, Jennifer asked, "What did you decide on for lunch?"

He referred to the menu and replied, "I'm starting out with a nice order of oysters Rockefeller, then a light tilapia over rice pilaf. For dessert we will enjoy chocolate dipped strawberries and champagne. I just wish I could take that order to go." He looked directly in her eyes, and then he dropped his gaze to her luscious lips. After a long moment he slid that gaze slowly, longingly down across her shoulders and breasts, taking in every inch of what was visible above the tabletop. His knee chafed against hers, and he reached across to hold her hand lightly, at first just stroking the top of her hand with his thumb, circling slowly, and then massaging more deeply. He stroked the inside of her palm, and she closed her eyes to savor the moment. Jennifer was overcome with desire, and she reached down to caress his knee next to hers.

A moment later the waiter approached their table and she turned her gaze to the scene outside as she sipped more of her cocktail. The waiter set another drink down beside her water glass, and as she was almost finished with the first, she drained it and handed it to him as he left. The alcohol was quickly taking effect, and her head swam. She'd had nothing yet to eat today, in her nervous anticipation of her lunch date, and she could feel herself becoming quite intoxicated. Donald observed all this from mere inches away, and he smiled, knowing that Jennifer was relaxing and enjoying herself thoroughly so far. He planned to ensure that her enjoyment and pleasure would only increase over the course of the afternoon. One thing he prided himself on, however, was his patience, and his ability to use perfect timing to maximize a pleasurable encounter. He had waited 25 years to see this woman again, and he was prepared to bide his time until the perfect opportunity to once again hold her quivering figure in ecstasy as they made passionate love together again.

Having dispatched his orders to the waiter, Donald stood and led Jennifer to her feet. Quiet Glen Miller music was playing over the restaurant's speakers, and as they were in a remote, darkened corner of the bistro, he took her in his arms to dance cheek to cheek. They moved in a slow, small circle, and he pressed one hand against the small of her back as his other hand held hers. She laid her head on his shoulder and allowed herself to be guided in the dance steps.

She could hear Donald humming quietly along with the music, and she closed her eyes and drifted, encircled safely in his strong grip. The pair found themselves near a darkened hallway leading to the restrooms and the back exit. Donald pulled her gently to him slightly beyond the arch of the passageway, just in the shadows. He pressed Jennifer's back to the wall and held her face tenderly as he kissed her lips. While he drank deeply of her mouth his hands grazed her sides and his thumbs found the under curve of her supple breasts. He nuzzled her neck and nibbled her earlobe. She returned his kisses with a hunger that surprised even him, wrapping her arms around his neck and scratching his head gently with her fingers. "I want you so much," she whispered in his ear when she came up for a breath.

"You can have me; I'm all yours," he replied. Then he took her hand and guided her back to the table. They took their seats just in time to see a tray with their appetizers arriving. "Thank you," Donald said, and then as the waiter retreated his remark to Jennifer was, "unfortunately, I don't think we'll be needing hors d'heuvres...our appetites are already whet."

Jennifer blushed all the way to her collar and smiled demurely as she took one of the half-shelled oysters in her hand, separated the flesh from the shell, and proffered it to her lover, "You should try one anyway, they're exquisite." Donald leaned closer and opened his mouth to receive the delicacy. She tipped the shell into his mouth, and with his lips he caught the succulent mussel. He closed his eyes and murmured, "Delicious...mmm, that's amazing." She took one herself and savored the morsel, recalling the 'myth' of oysters' effect on man's libido. Today would not hold confirmation of that particular old wives' tale - Donald's passion was already ignited, and oysters were not the reason. Besides which, he had always been notorious for his voracious sexual appetite.

Donald scooted his chair around to be on the side adjacent to Jennifer's, so that he could continue to kiss and touch her at will, and throughout the rest of their delicious meal they shared pleasant conversation about the past years, their respective careers and families, the events that were defining moments, and their disappointments as well. All this was punctuated from time to time with deep soulful kisses and loving caresses. He managed his fork with his left hand and she with her right so they could continue to fondle and hold hands with one another as they ate. Soon their table was cleared except for a delicate china plate filled with chocolate dipped strawberries and two champagne flutes, in addition to the dwindling candle. Jennifer and Donald fed one another the strawberries, sipping their champagne or kissing each other in between bites, and both were feeling the effects of the alcohol.

"You know, my office is on this block, so I can stay parked here for hours and no one would be suspicious...and there's a really nice hotel just on the next street over. Since the rain seems to have let up, if you care to chance it, we could walk over and see if they might have a room available..." He finally made the suggestion they'd been working up to for the past hour.

"Let's take my mini-van...I'm sure I'm okay to drive," she countered. "I don't want to be stuck in the rain needing a cab to get to my car before I can meet Misty."

"Ah, yes...Misty...will I get to meet her, too?" Donald asked.

"I sure hope so," Jennifer said. "She's heard a lot about you, and she's a little nervous. I don't think she has decided for sure whether she wants to play around with us, or with you. Hopefully she's thinking about it... a lot! She knows just enough to make her a little horny, but she's never been in a threesome before."

Donald paid their bill and helped Jennifer into her coat. They ducked into dwindling sprinkle, and observed that the sun was trying to break through the cloud cover. It took a few minutes, but they found her car in the next-door parking garage, and Jennifer unlocked the slider door.

"What, do I have to sit in the back?" Donald asked.

"No...but we're not going to leave immediately. We'll both sit back here while we...warm up a little." Jennifer climbed in and Donald followed, sliding the door closed behind him. They sat close together on the narrow bench seat, and Donald took her in his arms even as he said:

"Ohhhh...you are making me absolutely crazy, wench. All I want to do is strip these clothes off you and lay you down in a comfortable bed and make passionate love to you seven ways from Sunday, and you want to make out in a car like a couple of fumbling teens?!"

"Well," Jennifer said, "Yes and no. I want that, too, but I also want to kiss and touch and fondle each other until we absolutely must get that room. I miss being held and rubbed and snuggled and kissed and licked...I miss the foreplay so much. I miss nibbling on your jaw and chin and nose, and I miss massaging your head and neck while I feast on your lips. And all of this only touches the iceberg of how I miss the taste and feel and stroke of your cock, everywhere." And with that she enveloped him in a warm hug as she pressed her lips, open-mouthed, to his. Her tongue teased and tantalized, and they made love with their hands and mouths. Over her clothes he felt her aroused nipples, and she caressed the hard bulge between his legs. Their ardor grew and became urgent. She skillfully paced his need, and teased and slowed in order to prolong this glorious foreplay. After twenty or thirty minutes, with the windows of the van totally steamed up, Jennifer asked, "Are you ready for that room, Donald?"

"Argh..." he moaned, "finally! Yes, yes, dear god yes I am so ready for that room..." He found the keys she'd left on the floor of the van and wrestled his way forward to the driver's seat. She followed suit, settling herself in the front passenger's seat, and buckling in. He maneuvered the van out of the parking stall and out of the parking garage, displaying the validated ticket as he exited. Just five minutes later he drove up near the hotel lobby and parked. Together they entered the building, she holding a small valise she had packed with a few necessities. After securing the room keycard, Donald and Jennifer rode up together in the elevator to the sixth floor.

"It's only about quarter to two," she observed, "I'll bet the floor is mostly deserted."

"That would be good," he whispered, "because you are going to cum so hard, your screams of ecstasy will ring out, and I'd hate to disturb the neighbors."

With that, he slid the keycard home, hard, and opened the door.

Once inside, they made short work of removing their clothes. She excused herself to the restroom while he turned back the bed and turned on quiet jazz music on the television/radio combo unit. She emerged and joined him under the covers, and at first they just lay there, enjoying the skin-to-skin contact. Then they began kissing again, and Jennifer felt the urgency of his hard cock against her tummy. Donald nuzzled her neck and worked his way down her chest to her breasts, where he spent time caressing and kissing each one in turn. Then he continued farther down and rubbed his face in the softness of her belly. His hands wrapped around her hips and found her firm ass cheeks; these he squeezed and massaged, moving his hands lower and lower down her thighs and ultimately down to her calves. He sat up a bit and took each leg in turn and caressed and massaged the muscles, causing her to feel deeply relaxed and deeply aroused at the same time. She lay back and accepted these ministrations of love. Starved for the touching, fondling, kissing, and caressing of actual "lovemaking," she gorged herself on the sensations now. She knew her turn to enchant him with her prowess would come soon enough.

Parting her legs slightly, Donald slid his body into the gap between her knees and found her mons, glistening with need. She'd trimmed her bush down to a very short, but not scratchy, level, and her wetness was quite evident. He gently spread open her lips, as though unfurling a graceful flower, and stroked with his fingers the area between outer and inner lips. Then with one finger he traced the line from her engorged clitoris all the way to her perineum, with a touch so gentle it almost tickled. He was expert in finding the line dividing tickling and tantalizing. Now he traced this line again, up and down, up and down. Jennifer's thrusting to get closer was in vain; he knew exactly when and how she was going to be satisfied, and he wouldn't be rushed. As he breathed in the scent of her arousal, and observed her vagina dripping now with need, he lowered his face to her pussy and licked, long, slow, and deliberately. His tongue only penetrated her cunt an inch or two, and she could barely restrain herself from grasping his head and shoving him into her.

However, she had learned in countless previous lessons from him that his way was best, and patience was rewarded. He laved her lips with a wide, flat tongue, occasionally dipping in to taste her tangy delicious flavor. He then encircled her clit with the harder tip of his tongue, and he worried away at that point as a dog focuses his attention on the small area inside a bone in order to coax out the marrow. Next, as he felt her thrashing and bucking, her legs shaking with ecstasy, he latched onto her clit with his teeth and tongue and began to apply suction force - something that he knew would immediately elicit an orgasm. True to his skill, she erupted in screams and gasps, rearing up and pushing down against his face. He held fast to her buttocks and allowed her to ride his mouth and the waves of pleasure all the way.