RED MULES
It was another afternoon on another day and I had returned to the hotel early, a short work day for once. I had texted her so she knew I was returning. I wasn't expecting anything when I arrived. She had kept me up late the night before and the night before and the whole three day weekend before that. I was just a bit tired and, for once, my imagination was not working in overdrive. Not even in first gear.
Entering the hotel room, a small modest suite in an above-average hotel chain, I did not see her. I placed my items on the workspace and moved to the closed door which led to the bedroom.
No MK.
I could hear noises in the shower, the bathroom door was open a few inches so I slowly pushed the door open. "MK? You in here?" I could hear music from the other side of the door, something familiar.
"C'mon in, handsome. The water's just fine." I could hear the smile in her voice.
The aggressive and rhythmic first bars of a familiar song began. "Sway" as voiced by Rosemary Clooney flowed past the partially opened doorway.
Entering the bathroom I could see movement in the shower which was a long rectangle with β of its length enclosed in a thick glass wall. No door.
And there was MK. In the shower. She was soaped up, wearing a pair of sky high red mules and nothing else and gyrating to the song. Moving, turning and flowing.
She was pressing her full, soapy breasts against the heavy glass, wiping them across the clear divider while her hips swayed to the rhythm. She danced in a half circle until her lovely ass, just as soapy as her breasts, was moving like a pendulum across the glass.
My fatigue instantly disappeared and was replaced with a growing stirring in my balls. My cock was changing shape and my breathing deepened. I was impressed. This was very, very erotic and very unexpected. MK, yet again, surprised me.
She continued her dance, turning, gyrating, soaping here and there and blowing me kisses.
There, in the roomy shower MK's swaying was in a class all its own.
In recent visits, she always had something new and interesting, something I did not expect to share with me. She had morphed from a 'proper lady' who spoke about sex in euphemisms or in oblique terms and would never consider letting herself be blindfolded or tied up or allow herself the liberty to, at times, be a dirty-talking wench who grew more daring with each visit.
Sex in her rental car, rubbing a nyloned foot on my swelling hardon at an outdoor cafe, squatting on my face in sheer stockings and heels and 'forcing' me to lick her into a monstrous orgasm. And it was becoming clear that, at times, she liked it when I pinned her arms behind her back, bent her over a table and fucked her.
Rosemary's song ended and the room became quiet.
MK, her smiling face peeking around the edge of the glass panel, greeted me. "Hey there, handsome (an appellation I can come to love). "Like the floor show?"
Why she so often left me at a loss for words I did not know and this was no exception.
I nodded, swallowing, trying to say something that wouldn't sound stupid. I watched as she leaned further around the panel, a soapy breast, nipple erect, peeked with her.
"It was.....very....lovely."
Her smile widened and knowing she had me tongue-tied said, "Well, since you don't seem to have a use for your tongue.....I do."
My pulse was racing, my cock was getting harder and my hands slowly clenched.