The Encounter
Melynda approached the post happy hour bar a few moments later than she'd intended, looking for the man. No one perked up at her arrival even though a couple of guys looked her over. She didn't mind the stares, not at all, in fact the wanton gazes excited her. When the bartender approached she commanded, "Peach wine spritzer."
Before the steward had the bottle of white uncorked, a rather good looking gentleman walked past the hostess station. When he caught her eye, she recognized him from the picture she'd seen on his dating profile. "Mel?" he asked.
She returned, "Matt?" and held her hand out for the shake. It was warm, perhaps suggestive, but no one watching thought it was anything but professional. She liked him straight away. Tailored suit, cream shirt, double stripe tie. He was a bit under six feet, not a problem since she herself, without heels, only measured five feet four. Dark eyes, pug nose, full lips, a dark cut of hair, the face was shaved which was good. She didn't care for men who sported a three-day old beard simply because they didn't like shaving.
She was just as interesting to him. The dating site had said she was in her early forties, twelve years older than he, and although shading the truth in this instance was more likely than not, her age seemed fairly accurate. Lips glossy with a neutral shade, dirty blond hair fell around her face. Her high necked, sleeveless paisley blouse was filled with her breasts. Black skirt, he didn't bother to look at the high heels she'd spent twenty minutes deciding to wear. A small bracelet, watch, an ankle bracelet. Of course he noticed the wedding band, but her on-line profile had made that relationship obvious. In fact, her openness that she was married made her even more desirable, somehow.
"So," he started, "you live near here?"
"Twenty minutes away. How often do you get to town?"
"Twice a month, maybe. It depends. Sometimes I stay for a day or two, other times the whole week. It depends on what the business needs."
To her, the voice seemed a bit high. Was it because he was skittish, or was that just normal? She, of course, had no reason to feel nervous, she'd ridden this tilt-a-whirl dozens of times before. "How long will you be in town?"
"Just tonight. I've got to be in Cincinnati Thursday."
"That's too bad."
"But I'll be back next month," he promised.
The small talk was clumsy, as two people meeting for the first time was wont to be, but Melynda expected that. After all, when you search for potential friends on the Internet, you don't expect geniuses. Finally they hit upon a subject they were both familiar with, Mid American conference schools.
"Yeah, I graduated from Akron, business major. How about you?"
"Oh, I went to Ball State."
"Hey, I went over there for a basketball game. Spent the weekend, there were some hot babes over there!"
"Yeah, some hot guys too." The subject was discussed for a few minutes.
From the way he looked at her, how he stroked her arm in response to her touches, she knew he was interested in her package. And the dryness in her mouth, the heavy thumping of her heart, the little tremor she got in the crick of her neck gave her the signal that she also was inclined.
"Are you married?" Melynda asked impulsively.
"No."
"Girlfriend?"
"Yes," he divulged, figuring honesty might be the best policy. "We're not getting along that well, when I'm out of town I think she fucks around on me."
"How do you feel about that?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I'm jealous, but sometimes it sort of turns me on."
"Have you talked about it with her? Asked her if she'd like to have a three-way?"
"Wouldn't that be weird?"
"Might be fun for both of you," she laughed. Switching topics, to one much more germane she bent towards him and whispered, "Do you like to eat pussy?"
"Love it," he replied.
She was watching for a rise in the tent of his pants, was heartened when she saw the evidence. "That's good, there's nothing I like better than having my pussy eaten."
"Nothing?" he teased.
"Well, I love fucking, too. When someone's real deep inside me, pounding away, yeah, I like that. And I adore it when a thick cream pie is left in there." In Matt's lap, the fabric of his pants strained, she knew he was game. She leaned to him, her breasts surrounded his arm, she whispered into his ear, "Do you want to leave a big cream pie in me?"
"Yes," he wheezed.
"Let's go then." His hotel was just across the street, they jaywalked briskly, breezing through the sterile lobby, not caring if the check-in clerk noticed them. One man sitting at the bar was people watching, thought to himself, 'Wow! She's gonna get laid!' The elevator ride was ticklish, each of them thinking of what was to come, a bit embarrassed at the situation. Matt fumbled with the key to his room, inserting the plastic and getting the red light a couple of times until finally, thankfully, the green glowed and they were in the room. As soon as the door was closed, she pressed him against the wall, put her lips against his.
He had never had a woman quite as headstrong as this, he cooperated as best he could. Her mouth was open, her tongue searching for his, her hand was at his belt, unzipping the pants, disturbing the briefs so that she held his naked penis. It was then that she first discovered a lie of his, it wasn't the monster she'd seen in the photographs he'd sent her, it was at best normal sized. She wasn't disappointed, all men lie as if theirs was the greatest, the best. Melynda expected she'd have a good time with it, nevertheless.
She retreated two paces, raised her arms and pulled the top over her head. He gazed at the more than ample breasts, constrained only by translucent scraps of purple fabric, he could easily discern the tight nipples. And then the shoes were kicked off, the skirt was pulled from her waist, boy shorts disguised the object of his desire. She stepped back another two feet, to the edge of the bed, he gazed at his woman for the night, and she plucked the remaining snippet from her body. Now naked, her breasts were nearly round at the sides, just a little flat in the front. Her mons had been shaved; or perhaps waxed?
"Your turn," she demanded. At her command he disrobed, his shirt unbuttoned, the undershirt pulled over his head, the shoes untied, the pants kicked into a corner. She inspected him, saw he was relatively lean, the chest hairs dark and not too thick, the legs strong, the prick leaping from his body, the balls tight and globular, the shaft adorned with angry veins, the head peeping from the foreskin, scarlet with passion. It would do, certainly, for what she desired.
She inspected the room, the bed, twin night stands, business desk with chair, wall unit with the television, and in a corner a stuffed chair and lamp. That was it!
He watched as she rearranged the corner, her ass was a bit short of roundness. She moved the armchair until it was a foot from the wall, then she sat on top of the chair, her own back against the wall. "You promised to eat me," she reminded. He approached, she spread her limbs widely, as he bent to his task he gazed at the opening. The skin surrounding it was smooth, the first touch reminded him of silk, the lips folded and hiding the clit that must be there, the hole dark and surprisingly small. With both hands he moved the skin, the shiny clit was exposed, the pussy now deep and waiting. The area was dry, he kneeled uncomfortably on the cushion, brought his lips to the area, licked the nib. He heard her breathe faster, felt the hand on the back of his skull pulling it forward. Slowly she responded, when he snuck a look he saw the concentration on her face, as he cupped a breast his hand felt the pounding in her chest. At times she would shuffle her pussy lips to move his tongue into a better position, other times she would tell him what she wanted. His fingers dipped inside the pussy, after many minutes of labor it became wet with her juices. And just as he was beginning to tire, he heard the sudden squeal of her voice. He let her finger take the task of rubbing the clit, with two of his own fingers he poked and prodded as she extended her orgasm. It seemed she would alternatively calm for a few seconds, then return to her out of body experience. It was obvious she knew her own body.
Eventually, the movements of her finger slowed, Matt pulled his fingers out of her cunt. "Wonderful," she complimented, "a great appetizer. Now, let's go!"
