Greetings fellow lover of erotic fiction. This is my attempt to create a diversion to help with the strange times we live in.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. The places in this story are fictitious. I know the hotel bar all too well. I hope everyone is well.
This is a work of fantasy. Time is compressed.
You'll find descriptions of various sex acts between consenting adults, both of whom are way over eighteen. The sex is going to be all in your mind, just like the narrator (oh, you'll see). Be aware that the woman involved in this story has a filthy mind and a foul mouth. If frank language describing acts or body parts offends you, move on. On the other hand if the thought of sex with no physical contact intrigues you, read on.
Please leave a constructive comment or two. Enjoy!
Stranded. No flights home. I don't want to be sealed in a plane anyways. There is a train tomorrow, and I'll be home in, ugh twenty-something hours. I need a drink.
I entered the hotel bar. The bartender was wearing a surgical mask and gloves. I sat at the end of the bar.
"What'll it be Sir?" He asked.
The bar has a nice selection of Scotch, so I ordered my favourite single-malt, neat. He dropped it off and slipped into the back. I was sipping it quietly when she walked in.
Fifty. Tall. Slender. Long brown hair cascading over one shoulder, reaching all the way to one large breast, framing one side of her deep cleavage. Long legs in fishnets and shockingly high black fuck me pumps. She dropped her briefcase on a stool in the middle of the bar, and slinked onto the one next to it, crossing her shapely legs. It took a little time for her boobs to stop jiggling. She turned to face the bar.
The bartender emerged from the back, near me. I called him over.
"Say pal, I'd like to buy the lady a drink." I said, smiling. "Whatever she wants."
"Sure, but 'Social Distance', right?" He answered.
"I know. It's the new normal." I answered. "We all have to adapt."
He went to her, took her order and returned with what looked like a Martini. She looked over towards me, raised the glass and wrapped her full red lips around the rim to take a sip. She left a lip print on the glass. Deep red. I wondered briefly what those plump lips would look like with my hard cock in them Easy pal I reminded myself.
She took the toothpick with the olives on it from the glass. I assumed she'd pop them in her mouth, but she threw her head back, slid her tongue out and dropped one on to it. She curled her tongue around the salty treat and pulled it in. She crunched it and swallowed slowly. She actually massaged her slender throat. She threw her head back again and placed the second olive on her full, pursed lips. Her mouth split into a smile, and the olive dropped in. She looked over smiling broadly as she chewed. She licked off her fingers one by one, very slowly. She waved and blew me a kiss.
She reached for a hand sanitizer pump on the bar and pumped a drop onto her hands. New normal. She slowly caressed her hands with each other until the sanitizer was gone. I downed the rest of my whisky in a gulp. The bartender appeared with another.
"From the lady" He said as he set it down. I stared at it for a second or two. A heartbeat. I picked it up and turned to her. She had set a black lace handkerchief on the bar. She was talking to the Bartender. He nodded and picked up the hankie and moved towards me.
He ttold me her room number. "She wants you to call her there in ten minutes." He says. "I'm keeping the thong." He displays it like a prize trout. I look over, but she's already gone. I drink my drink, pay by tapping my credit card and leave.
I could have stopped at her floor, but "new normal" means "no contact with strangers". But dammit, I wanted a little something strange. By the display she put on, so did she.I got to my room with a minute or two to spare. Good. I have time to catch my breath and settle into a comfortable chair. I called her room. She answered on the third ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi, I'm-" I began
"Nope. No names. You're the gent from the bar who bought me a two-olive Tanqueray martini." She said, interrupting me.
"And you're the beautiful woman from the bar who bought me a neat Laphroaig. Thank you. That was quite a show you put on." I said.
"Mmm. So, are you dressed the same as you were in the bar?
"Uh, yeah. I just got to my room. Why?"
"Take off your tie." She said firmly. "Do it."
"Okay" I replied. I set the phone down briefly and untie my tie. "Done."
"Good." She answered. "You can undo the top two or three buttons on that white shirt too." She added.
"Done and done. Three. What do you have in mind?" I ask.
"Just trying to get comfortable." She said. "Do you think I should take off my dress? It's awfully tight. It's especially tight across my tits. You noticed, right? I have nice, big firm tits. Should I take off my dress?"
The mental image of her large tits, tight dress, deep cleavage and other charms had me stunned for a second or two. Another heartbeat.
"Sure. I mean, yes. Stand up and take off your dress. Slide it all the way down over those nice full hips. I want to hear it hit the floor." I said
She must have set the phone down because I heard the distinct soft "plop" of fabric hitting carpet.
"Oh yes! That's much better. Why don't you kick off your shoes and socks?" She said.
I did. Hmm. This is strange, but my cock was stirring, I continued.
"Would you like me to take off my shirt and expose my furry chest?" I asked.
"Oh, I do love a bit of man-fur. Take it off. Did I see cufflinks?" She asked.
"You did. Small gold nuggets. I'm taking off the left one now." I let the phone hear it drop to the desk.
"Oh God. I think I just came a little. Do the other."
I dropped it on the desk with a satisfying "clunk".
"Okay. No shirt." I said. "Now you have me at a disadvantage. I don't know what to ask for because all I know for certain is that you're wearing very sexy black four-inch heels, and I want you to keep them on, at least for now."
"All right then. I have a heavy lace black bra with a front closure. Do you want to know the bra size?" She teased.
"I don't need a number or a letter. I could clearly see that you had very large beautiful tits. Let's leave that on for a moment. What else?
"You noticed the fishnets?" She asked.
"Yes. Hard not to." I answered.
"They're stockings. I'm wearing a black lace garter belt to match the bra. Three straps on each side. One at the front, one on the side and one hugging the curve of my ass. The stocking tops come quite high. The garters and stockings frame my ass nicely, even if I do say so myself. Do you want to hear about my panties?"
"Okay. Tell me about your panties." I said.
"They barely cover the patch of hair above my cunt. My thick lips are split nicely by the string of the thong. Or rather they were. I gave them to the Bartender. I'm completely bare now below the garter belt. In fact, I'm running my fingers over those full damp lips right now. Is that okay with you, or have I been naughty? Do I need punishment? Maybe a spanking?" She suggested.
"Hmm. Yes, get on your knees on the chair. Ass up. Phone on the desk. Now, three nice hard strokes on each cheek." I said, trying to sound stern. I think my voice cracked a bit.
Smack. Smack! SMACK! I heard. She double-handed it.
"Is that better, Sir?" She asked. Sir now. Okay, why not, let's play.
"That's perfect uh-" What? Pet? No. Baby? Nope. Sweetie? Ugh. Bella? Sounds like the cat. "Doll.' Yeah, sounds like a Film Noir dame. "You can sit down now. No, wait. Let's release those sweater puppies first. Open the clasp on your bra."
"Okay. It's open. It's slipping a bit." She said.
