The club wasn't as crowded as the first night Inga and her friends visited, but it didn't matter. They'd brought their own boys along this time, and Inga watched as each of her friends got tipsy and giggly and touchy-feely with the young man they'd paired off with at the beach. Yes, by the end of the night Inga knew the hotel rooms surrounding her own would be filled with the sounds of sex, bedsprings squeaking and lusty moaning and orgasmic cries.
Inga looked over at Chris, the man she'd had four frantic sexual encounters with the last two days. No one knew they were lovers. When they'd been "introduced" that afternoon, he'd played it cool, barely acknowledging her. His friends thought he was being rude-it wasn't right that Inga alone didn't have a playmate. In fact, his coolness thrilled her. Their affair was a secret, something they alone shared, and the fact that he wasn't willing to share his conquest of her with his friends made her want him even more. Most guys would've bragged about bagging a tall, sexy blonde with breasts that demanded your attention. But he hadn't said a word.
Of course, that might've been due to the fact that earlier that afternoon she had mercilessly masturbated him and fingered him until he lost control of himself. So far they'd traded the upper hand back and forth, and the knowledge that each had the power to send the other into paroxysms of ecstasy made this pas de deux even more delicious. What did he have in store for her tonight? What did SHE have in store for him?
He was standing at the other end of the bar, talking to a few of his friends. Inga rested her arm on the bar, sipping a very tart margarita, and then she let her eyes move over to him. He was staring at her, staring at her the way he did that first night at the bar, and she licked her lips and wanted him inside her right then and there. He looked away, a secret smile on his lips, and Inga remembered how that afternoon he hadn't been smiling. He'd been whimpering, glistening with sweat, straining as she plumbed his hidden depths. And her own secret smile spread over her lips.
"I need to visit the ladies' room," one her friends said, a cue to Inga, and the two of them walked down the hall and into the peach-colored bathroom. Her friend opened her purse, grabbed her lipstick, and said, "Good, I brought two condoms!"
"Think you'll need them?" Inga asked with a smile.
"Oh, maybe not," her friend said. "Maybe I'll blow him first, then fuck him after. So he lasts long enough to make me happy. God, I just LOVE younger men!"
They both laughed, and then Inga pushed back her hair and redid her lipstick. Her friend said, "I feel bad there isn't one for you."
Inga laughed. "The night is still young."
"I know, but I thought that one guy, Chris...I know he's single. But he doesn't even seem interested in talking to you. Must be stuck-up."
Inga sighed and shrugged. "He's not really my type, so it's no big deal."
"Probably hung like a string bean."
"Probably," Inga agreed, and they both laughed. They walked back to the bar, Inga remembering how fat and stiff Chris's cock got when it was in her mouth the night before. In the dining room just down the hall from the ladies' room.
Normally Inga and her friends would close a bar when they were on vacation. But by midnight, they were all ready to leave. With their boys, of course. There was no reason to drink any more, and there was nothing left to say. Each couple had already reached the same conclusion-it was time to fuck. Right now. Not an hour from now. Now. Time to fuck.
They left the bar, four couples...and Inga. She needed a ride back to the hotel and outside the bar there was some discussion as to who would be stuck with her in the back seat during the long ride back. No one seemed eager to postpone the groping to come to give Inga a lift back.
"Um, I guess we can give you a ride..." her one friend said, when a voice behind her said, "I'm going home too. I 'll give you a lift."
It was Chris. Of course it was. Inga turned and said, "No, that's OK, I can ride with..."
Her friend said, "Thank you, that's great, bye!" and they all practically leapt into their cars. Five seconds later they pulled off into the night, red taillights illuminating Inga and Chris as they stood outside the bar.
"It's Inga, right?" he said. "I didn't quite catch your name down at the beach."
She laughed. "And you're Chris, right? When you told me your name it was a bit hard to understand."
He grinned. "I was a bit incoherent, wasn't it?"
"Just a bit."
Her young lover showed Inga to his car, held the door open for her. Inga wondered what he had planned, if anything. "Since your friends are going to be molesting a few of my innocent buddies at their hotel, our house is totally empty. And it will be till 2AM, when the bar closes."
Inga said, "There's no one there?"
He nodded. "A few of our gang when home today, the ones with kids. They don't live too far away, they just came down for a quick visit." He snapped open his cell phone, dialed a number, and waited. He hung up without speaking, and said, "Just making sure nobody's home."
Inga let her hand slip into his lap. "I don't want any games. I don't want any power plays. I just want some nice, slow sex."
He opened his legs and sighed. "Sounds good to me."
"No restraints, no torture."
"No torture. I'm up for that."
They hit every green light on the road down the beach, Inga's fingers tracing the outline of his erection through his shorts. "We have a chair in the living room, it's almost a recliner, you can lie down on it with your legs extended," he said. "I want to lie down on it and have you sit on me."
"Mmm...I wanted to sit on you this afternoon."
"I know. I want to see those big boobies bouncing back and forth as you ride me..."
They pulled into the driveway. Inga burrowed her hand inside his shorts but he pulled her hand away and opened his door. They walked to the house at the double, anxious to be inside and naked and entwined with each other. He led her inside, up the stairs, and by the time the reached the top step Inga had her heels kicked off and her blouse pulled up over her head. "Anyone home?" he called out, and when there was no answer he took off his shirt. Inga reached back to unhook her brassiere when he said, "Wait, let me do that."
It was dark inside the house, and quiet, and Inga felt him looming behind her. His hands were strong and sure as he freed her breasts from the cups and hefted them gently. She knew how he liked this position of power, his hands free to roam all over her body, just as he'd done in the shower stall. He kissed her shoulders, her neck, and then the tip of his tongue rimmed her earlobe before he took an inquisitive nibble.
She wanted him, she wanted him to spear her from behind and grab her hips and pull her hair. But instead he knelt behind her, and his wet tongue drew across the small of her back. He put his hands on her hips and slowly, slowly, turned her until she was facing him. His tongue touched the soft skin just above her pussy, and then he pulled her close and started rimming her navel, his fingertips finding the insides of her thighs. Inga breathed through her mouth and bent her knees. She looked down into her magnificent cleavage and saw him staring up at her. He stared up at her as he grabbed the thin straps of her black silk thong and pulled them down to her ankles. His eyes never left her, not until he gazed down at her naked pussy and started tonguing and kissing her belly...and lower.
She wanted to squat, she wanted to sit straight down on him and feel all that hardness inside her. He stood up, took off his shirt, popped the button on his shorts and let them fall around his ankles. As he stepped out of them Inga stepped forward and hooked her fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. They snagged briefly on his erection before they too fell to the floor. She was about to fall to her knees to put him in her mouth when he again took her hips in his hands and gently made her turn around. Again his hands found her heavy breasts, his fingers tenderly tweaking the nipples that instantly hardened under his touch.
His ground his hips against her ass, his penis lodging neatly in the cleft of her buttocks. Inga gritted her teeth as he fondled her, wanting him to fuck her but at the same time not wanting him to stop what he was doing. Just as she thought she couldn't stand it any more his right hand moved down her body and warm fingers slid along her furrow. She was wet and he moistened his fingertips before touching her clitoris.
"Oh my God," Inga moaned as his index finger slowly circled her clit. "You're gonna make me come again with your fingers, I can't believe this."
He slowly humped her ass as he diddled her. "Just with my touch," he whispered, and Inga opened her legs even wider to give him complete access to her pussy. His deft fingers slithered all over her pussy, and Inga groaned as he printed tender kisses along her neck, her earlobes, his breath warm against her skin.
"We need to sit down," he said, and guided her over to the recliner he'd talked about in the car. It was old and beat-up, but it looked comfortable and sturdy. Chris sat down first and extended the recliner's legs before patting the spot between his splayed legs. "Snuggle up, baby," he growled.
She sat down and wriggled her ass against his cock. "I want you inside me," she hissed as his hands seized her hips and pulled her tight against him.
"Soon," he breathed in her ear, "but not just yet. Stretch out your legs."
She did as she was told, and Chris hooked his ankles inside hers and gently edged her thighs apart. He had her totally under his power now, and his hands moved from her hips to her loins. Inga arched her back, exhaled, and let her head loll to the side. His fingers were diabolical, they seemed to know where her pussy's every trembling nerve ending was located. "Chris, what do you do for a living?" she panted. "Are you a concert pianist? Or a sculptor, maybe?"
He laughed. "I've always had good hands. Always knew how to make a girl feel good with just a tickle. But I'm actually a writer. Maybe all that typing helps."
"Maybe it does," she gasped. "I'm going to come soon."
His voice was calm. "Soon, but not just yet. You said you wanted it nice and slow. I could diddle you all night long."
