Hotel Rooms

He enjoyed staying in hotels.

Some nights were better than others of course.

It had been a while since the memorable time he had heard a woman across the corridor shouting, "Yes, yes, fuck me!".

That was one of the nights that had stayed with him and created the anticipation that he always felt in a hotel room.

Of course there were other reasons for savouring hotel-nights. Sometimes he was with his wife on a cultural visit to somewhere interesting; sometimes he was alone - on his way to a business meeting or getting ready to catch a flight on the following morning; sometimes he was meeting a woman.

This time he was attending the wedding of his cousin's daughter and was staying with his wife at the hotel where the reception was to be held.

They'd arrived just before lunch but had been able to get into the room early because it was ready and the receptionist had been a friendly girl who had smiled back at him when he announced that he was with the wedding party and looking forward to two wonderful nights in the hotel.

It had been an easy journey and neither of them was tired but it was a warm, sunny day and they bathed in the brightness of the sunshine as they undressed together with the curtain open. It was an advantage of being on the fourth floor that they were not overlooked.

Naked on the bed they explored each other lazily. They kissed for a while then took it in turns to lay back and feel the soft touches of hands and mouths on skin.

He was glad that she wanted to make love. His thoughts had drifted to past adventures as they had driven up and the memories of bodies and beds had stirred the need in him. It didn't matter that some thoughts were of his wife and some were not. Nor was it important that holiday memories mixed with recollections of routine journeys. What never failed to arouse him was the thought of being close to so many strangers all in their beds.

In more sensible moments he knew that many of the guests in any hotel were mis-matched or unhappy or that the thought of sharing sex just didn't occur to them, but that didn't stop him from concentrating on the remaining couples - the ones who came down to breakfast freshly showered with wet hair, wafting the scent of soap and body sprays and laughing as if they had discovered a brand new secret with each other. It didn't matter that their secrets were the same ones that each generation discovers and rediscovers as they meet new lovers and revel in how good sexual games can be.

Right now he was ready for her and he was sure that she was ready for him. His fingers were slippery as they played between the folds of her sex lips. Her breathing was deep and content as she made small adjustments to her position to get those fingers pressing just where it felt the best.

When he slid his body over hers she murmured, "Yes."

It was just one word, spoken softly, but it seemed like her gift to him and as his proud cock slid into her she said it again.

He smiled down and watched as she spoke. He moved slowly over her and each new thrust produced the word from her lips, "Yes."

She was looking up at him - willing him to push himself deeper and to move faster. Her body rose to meet him each time he responded to her encouragement and the mood changed from gentle lovemaking to the sort of fucking that was intense and at times harsh. He wanted to ram his body so hard into her that she grunted with the force of it and she wanted it too. Her juices were oozing from her as the sensations built for them both and he reached down with his left hand to feel the wetness between her arse cheeks. With his fingers between her legs she pushed up hard and called out, "Yes."

"Yes." there was an echo of her cry.

He didn't pause in his movements and she didn't stop pushing back at him with each thrust but their eyes met and locked.

He nodded and she called out again, "Yes" and once more it was repeated. It was a woman's voice and it had all the passion and urgency of hers, but it was coming from the next room.

The timing was deliberate, the meaning obvious. Only a few feet away from them in the next room a woman was sharing their sex. He slowed and they listened. The bed was moving there just as their bed was moving. Not deliberately loud, but clear enough to be heard by them. The rhythm was the same as their rhythm - the same as their fuck.

As they continued and allowed their own noises to build slowly, they strained to hear the extra participant in their act and it was as if she strained too. There were gentle moans between silences but it seemed that she was waiting for them.

He drew back and thrust deep and hard. Under him she groaned and then called out, "Yes, yes."

The echo through the wall was urgent now as if she was willing them to give her their orgasms. "Yes."

Under him he felt her body tensing and pushing towards him with desperation. Her thighs were trembling against his.

Then it came, the voice through the wall that drove them both to the edge, "Yes, please, fuck me, fuck meeee .. fuckkkkkkk!"

He couldn't stop. At the back of his mind he recognised the words and the voice, but he couldn't stop.

He spurted deep into her hot clinging body as she held him and repeated the words, "fuck me, fuck me, fuck me ...."

She shuddered and gasped, still writhing from the intensity of her climax as the voice though the wall came clearly once more to thank them, "Yesssssssssssssss!"