Bellevue Pt 01

I thought he was cute when I first saw him. These things always happen in strange ways. I was out to dinner with my husband Dave. We were at this very famous wonderful restaurant for dinner. I was taking him out for his birthday. We've gone here a few times over the past years after living her forever. We were upstairs in the bistro section, where reservations aren't months in waiting and the occasional out-of-town foodie can score a table, and that's probably how he found his way to sit down at the table next to ours.

I was a bit distracted. Dave and I were in a rather monumental fight, had been going on for a few days, mostly about his trip tonight. He was going back to New York on the red eye, in fact we had to leave in a bit for me to get him to the airport, but since it was his birthday, we were out to dinner. We work together and therefore spend a lot of time together, so when he came back from this conference in New York a few months ago all quiet, I figured he had somehow spent time with his ex-wife, whom he had never quite let go of... I mean it's been 12 years or so. Then he went back there about two weeks later and stayed for most of a week. He's been different, though has denied anything.

Our fight now was because on Monday, two days ago, he announces that he needs to go back to New York to close a deal on some expensive penthouse our company is representing (our company is breaking into that market). He's going on and on about how rich apartment buyers in New York are, they don't quibble, they write a check... but I know underneath it all he's thinking of his ex's wet pussy and how he can crawl inside it and stay.

"Hi, what are you reading?" I ask the stranger next to us as our silence grew annoying.

He looked up surprised, alone, and responded. It was some recent interesting piece of literature I had read reviews about,

"I'm sorry to intrude, but you look so peaceful and content, reading and your glass of wine. I'm Jen, this is Dave."

I was eating this amazing meal and this quite beautiful blonde woman sitting next to me with her date, I think it was her husband and they were in some kind of row judging by the exchanges, turned to me and asked me what I was reading.

Not wanting to insult a beautiful woman, I told her. Normally on my travels I keep to myself, reading in restaurants when I dine alone, savoring my solace from an otherwise overly busy and networked existence. I looked at her and took her all in quickly, the perfect hair, the gorgeous face and shapely body, high forties, maybe fifty with great genes. But her breasts, nearly exposed with an inviting cleavage, smooth and delicate, like that of a much younger woman. An open neck silk blouse that presented that treasure to the world. Her husband was very lucky and the prick didn't even respond to her. OK, that's their problem, but come on!

I think I stared at her tits too long before meeting her face again. That's when she introduced herself and Dave and we began our conversation.

"Nice to meet you. I'm R. You two look so situated, please, I'm good. Wonderful place. What is that you've ordered?"

"Duck for two, it's his birthday. We're celebrating." I said reluctantly, and I know this guy caught everything; the silence, the tension, the unfinished wine.

"Oh, man. Happy Birthday. Congratulations, please don't mind me. You have each other, celebrate."

But I didn't let it go, I engaged him in more conversation. He was in from the East for a few days, on business. He got up and excused himself for a minute. He came back a few minutes later.

"I love it here," he said. "Whenever I'm in town I stay at the Belle. I would love to just live there. The grandness, the swim club, the view, it's perfect."

The "Belle," or Hotel Bellevue, was a gem of the area, a very large Victorian hotel/spa on the hill overlooking the gorgeous scenery. We sometimes went there for massages but never stayed there.

"Oh, we love the Belle," I responded, "We live about a mile from there and pass it all the time. Are the rooms nice? It looks like a very nice place."

"Rooms are fine. But my favorite part is the Prada Bar off the lobby, very old school, no music, very genteel. I end up each night there in peace. Do you know it?"

"I know where it is, I've never been."

Then, a waiter appeared with two glasses of champagne for myself and Dave. I had not ordered them.

"Salute," R said, and lifted his glass to us. I was so touched and thanked him. The three of us clinked and returned to our meals; Dave and I to our awkward silence, R to his book.

Dave shortly engaged R in a conversation about local real estate. R had said he was always looking for a place on this coast, in fact in this area, but only casually and had hardly spoken to real estate people. We all talked cordially as our dishes were cleared and dessert and coffee was brought up.

Dave excused himself to the bathroom, "I've got a flight at 10, I think we need to leave now, honey? I'll be right back."

I turned to R and said, "Are you at the Prada every night, even after such a wonderful meal?"

"Especially after a wonderful meal," he responded.

"What time do they close?"

"Last night I got kicked out around 11," he said, "come by, I'll show you how excellent it is."

"What's so great about it?"

"It makes me think of delicious but forbidden thoughts. It's that kind of place."

"Do you have forbidden thoughts?," I asked him.

"Oh, come on, everyone does, even you. I can see in your eyes, in your interaction, in your movement, you are harboring countless forbidden thoughts."

I suddenly got very hot and probably flushed a bit. I think I felt a surge of wetness warm my crotch.

"I don't know you from Adam, but you look like a good person, intelligent, thoughtful, and wise. Can I tell you something?

"Sure," he said.

"I think I need to tell you this so that it becomes real even if you think I'm a lunatic, but don't respond or even say anything. My husband is going to New York tonight under the guise of a real estate venture that may or may not be true but really to spend four days fucking his ex-wife. There. I've said it."

"Cheers to him," R said, "I hope she has a good time, he's a good fellow, it seems."

"Oh, fuck him," I said, disgusted. "I have forbidden thoughts now," looking at R intently.

Dave returned and I smiled congenially at him. Dave and I said our goodbyes to R and wished each other well; we left.

Sitting in a dark corner banquet, I had finished my second bourbon, it was about a quarter to 11 and there was only one other person in the room, sitting at bar, nursing a beer. The bartender was wiping up glasses and eyeing us hopeful that we'd leave soon enough and he could get home. I was enjoying the evening and was about to order a last fill. I had met this beautiful woman about whom I could fantasize all night. I knew enough to try to find her tomorrow... her name, business, and location of her office. I knew her husband was away for a few days. I knew I was leaving town the day after tomorrow so I had better decide what to do.

"You better order quickly, that bartender gave me the evil eye," her voice cut through my fantasies of ripping off her low cut blouse and lip-synching her nipples, which must be so divine.

"You found the place," I stumbled back onto Earth.

"I know where it is, just haven't been here yet," she retorted, "What are you drinking?"

I went to the bar, raising two fingers and pointing to the glasses. The discontent reading on his face, the bartender told me, "Last call sir, we close in ten minutes, but you can stay while I finish up for awhile"

Fine, pour me two more to go and get me my check. He poured the extra two into some paper coffee cups with lids, I settled and brought the drinks to my table and placed the glasses in front of Jen. She looked softer in this dim light, glowing with an excitement I didn't notice at the restaurant. I think she was ravishing. I think she lowered her neckline a bit before making her entrance.

"Did you get Dave off ok?" I asked.

"Prick," she responded, "Didn't say much of anything all the way to the airport except what a nice thing that 'man' did by buying us that champagne... why didn't I do things like that for him? I mean, come on, show some appreciation for a nice dinner and... whatever. By the way, that was a very nice gesture, who taught you such good manners, it's rare out here."

"My ex-wife," I replied.

"Well, she seems high quality, so your loss, I'm afraid," she laughed in a brazen but devious manner. "To you," she toasted as we raised our glasses, "Why the coffee at this hour?" she noticed.

"Helps me find my way home after he kicks us out."

We talked and flirted while enjoying the bourbon. I had no idea where this was going. Too soon the four-ounce pours were gone and the room lights came on bright, upsetting the mood we were trying to establish. It was indeed closing time.

"Shit, I came all this way for a 15 minute nightcap. Not that it wasn't worth the trip, it is a nice bar," she smiled. She leaned close to me, close enough that I could smell the enticing scent on her neck, a very subtle floral perfume, "I have to pee like a racehorse. Is there a bathroom here?"

Continuing in a vein of newly found familiarity, "I had to go at the restaurant, but I wanted to talk to you alone those few moments when Dave left, I'm bursting."

"Over there, off the dining room," I pointed out. But it was obviously closed and it was clear we had to leave.

"Don't worry, there's some off the lobby I think toward those conference rooms you must have passed."

"Yeah, there's a loud party, some band, lots of gross looking businessmen and corporate climbers," she commented. "I hate that crowd."

"Hey, I'm a businessman, watch it."

"But you're not gross looking and slimy. And besides, you're not with them. Are you?"

"Hardly," I responded.

"I can't go there, can I ask you a big favor?"

"After all we've been through," I joked, "name it."

"Can I use your bathroom? Is it far?"

"No it's not far, the elevator's just there, and yes, of course, come, if you can make it."

She obviously was in distress and as she got up, seemed to wobble a bit, not so much from inebriation as from trying to hold her bladder. "Don't make me laugh," she threatened, "I'll kill you."

"Yes, but what a way to go," I quipped as I picked up the coffee cups and led her out to the lobby.

The elevator arrived, we entered. I quickly began trying to make her laugh in a cruel but playful way. She teased, "Stop it, you'll embarrass me, I'll drip, stop it."

On the fifth floor we walked down the hall to my room. In the entrance hall she exclaimed, "It's a suite, it's beautiful. The view," and forgetting her pressure for the moment walked to the window overlooking the city and the bay beyond, lights twinkling everywhere.

I put the cups down on the table by the sofa and took her hand and sitting down on the sofa, pulled her to me. There was no resistance whatsoever, her body lithe and loose, falling into mine. I don't know how it happened or the exact sequence, but we were kissing gently, lips exploring each other's, tongues feeling the heat points around our mouths.

"Mmmmmm," she murmured, "this isn't what I had in mind."

"It isn't?"

"No, I came to pee."

"So pee," I offered.

She didn't move, but continued the kissing, now getting more intense, her tongue in my mouth, probing in and out, its wetness seeking mine. I can't recall a more emphatic and luscious kisser than she, her beauty and intrigue was in that kiss and I just didn't want it to end. I held her tighter and began massaging her back, my fingers nesting under the straps of her top.

She responded by heaving her chest forward into me, breathing growing heavier. This was becoming an enhanced make-out session. I pulled back and took a cup, removing the plastic lid, taking a sip.

"Don't worry, it's more nectar," as I returned to her lips, dribbling a little into them. She drank it approvingly, grabbing the cup and gulping the contents in one shot. Surprised, I mouthed her lips, and tried sucking some of the bourbon back, which she generously fed me, what remained.

She abruptly got up and found the bathroom, seated herself on the toilet, shifting her dress up and pulling her panties down, keeping the light off. I followed her in and kneeled on the tile before her, in proposal fashion.

"Go, I can't pee if someone's watching, I'm going to explode. Go," she pleaded.

But I took her head in my hands and kissed her deeply, knowing that would stave off her need momentarily. She kissed me back yearningly, not resisting. Without thinking, and without preamble I ran a finger over her exposed crotch, lightly sliding through her wet thighs.

"Ohhhh," she purred. I put the finger to her lips and she kissed it softly. Then licked it lightly.

"It's me," she whispered.

"I know. I want to know what it tastes like. Bourbon? Champagne? Lust? Anger?"

"Oh R," she continued, "you are bad. You have to stop, get out. I need to pee."

But I pulled her up, clumsily walking her across the room to the bed, her panties constraining her ankles, dress flailing around her torso. I lay her down and removed her panties. As I returned to kissing her, her belly arched into me, I felt the hardness of her bladder and saw the outlines of stiffening nipples. This was too much to believe.

I easily removed her top over her lovely blonde head, exposing two of the most wonderful breasts ever seen, ripe and full, her diamonds begging to be kissed and sucked. The dress, loosely clinging since the bathroom somehow found its way to the floor. She was raw, in the flesh.

He kissed me over and over and I wanted to drink him up. Our tongues mashed in lustful rhythm, I really liked this man, this beautiful stranger, who now had me naked on his hotel bed, I ached to have him. I felt he needed to be in every one of my places, I was wet. Ohhh but I was going to burst, I had to pee so bad, but clenched tight I couldn't, I was now growing uncomfortable and the fullness was pushing into my innards. I had to do something I was going to burst.

He lay over me and began nibbling my tits, gently kissing the nipples, which were now sticking up at the moon, glowing pink in the dim light. He began sucking one harder and it bent into his lips. His teeth then teased the tips to elicit a little pain and I gave in, sucking in my breath. Ugggh, the sensations were baffling and frustrating, trying to enter the pleasure zone, but squeezing my gut closed so as not to ruin our beginning.

I think he knew all along what was going on, he proved to be an expert in this department.

"Jen," he whispered into my mouth, "relax, I can't believe you're here, I'm going to pleasure you, I promise, I want you."

"R... I have to go to the bathroom, you have to let me.."

And at that moment, I felt his finger stroking my bush lightly, and the feeling of urgency went away. I began grinding into his hand. His kisses resumed and somehow I removed his shirt, exposing a very sexy torso. He got his finger into my quiver, wiggling me into a warm place. I met him and pulled him deeper in. I was getting damp and relaxed. His kisses traveled down my neck and he rested there awhile as he dug another finger into me. The two were shaking my snatch into a froth, brushing my clit each pass.

His head fell down between my breasts and he grabbed the left one with his free hand, kneading it lovingly, the nip slipping in and out of his fingers, stretching taut like a rubber toy. The jolts were beginning all around me as he played with it, twisting it gently. He pulled his fingers out of my cunt and brought them up to my mouth again.

"It's you, Lovely," he smiled as I took my own taste on my tongue, licking those fingers. As I began savoring my fresh juices, he surprised me with a deep kiss to my twat lips. Ahhh, the quick intimacy that just flowed from part to part, like a choreographed dance passage following an unknown routine.

He parted my labs and his tongue just entered me whole, gathering every flavor and scent inside me, flicking my inner flesh, tasting my womb. The sensations began brewing in my center as he found my clit, sucking it in and circling over and over.