Alone in My Room

I was alone in my hotel suite. Everyone else had gone to the casino for some blackjack and slot machines, but I had decided to stay behind and spend some time with myself.

The suite was magnificent. It had a large marble foyer with original works of art on the walls. Through an arched entranceway, steps led down to a spectacular living area -- a baby grand piano in the corner, entertainment area with large screen TV, sofas, pillows, tables and Persian rugs befitting the best furnished suite in the most luxurious hotel. French doors opened onto a balcony that overlooked the Vegas strip -- an adult playground with neon lights and streets teeming with taxis and people. After a perfect day of sunbathing by the pool, the evening air was warm and dry. The sun already was setting on the horizon. Hip techno-pop music played over the suite's sound system, providing background music reminiscent of the crowded, throbbing disco that my husband and I visited with our small group of friends last night.

I stood in my thick, white bathrobe and prepared a drink at the bar. My bare feet touched the living room's cool marble floor. I noticed my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. "Elle, not bad," I thought "a beautiful woman, in the prime of her life, confident in herself and glad she'd decided to take this next adventurous step."

I walked back into the bedroom, drink in hand, and placed a towel and my vibrator on the bed so it would be ready and waiting for me when I finished taking a bath.

A knock rapped on the outside door.

"Who could that be?" I wondered. "Sam must've forgotten his key." The cubes of ice clinked in my cocktail as I tip-toed to the door.

I looked through the peephole. To my surprise, no one was there.

"That's odd," I said out loud.

I unlatched the door and cracked it open slightly, keeping the brass security latch in place. On the carpet at the foot of the door was a note. I pushed the door to, removed the latch and cracked it open again to retrieve the slip of paper. Clasping my robe tightly to my body, I stepped into the hallway and looked both ways. The hall was empty, but for some reason I felt strangely exposed.

I picked up the note and moved back into the room, locking the door behind me. The note was type written. The paper had a masculine scent that was strangely familiar. It read "Are you up for a little fun, to experiment, try new things? If so, leave your door propped open and we'll come back in a bit."

"This has the telltale markings of my adventurous husband," I thought.

"Still, if not, then who is we? Does we mean Sam and someone else or could it mean total strangers? Two? Three? A group? Does it mean male or female?"

I glanced at the note again to search for hidden clues.

"Still," I thought, "I did come here to experiment,... to try new things."

I smiled slyly and sniffed the letter one more time. Without looking back, I opened the door and flipped the brass latch to prop it open, making it freely accessible to my secret admirers. Even this simple act seemed incredibly bold to me. An act that I had done dozens of times before when leaving a hotel room to get a bucket of ice or to make it convenient for Sam or a friend to enter my hotel room when I knew they were on their way. This simplest of acts, leaving my hotel room door unlocked, made me tingle.

I padded like an excited schoolgirl back through the foyer and bedroom to reach the bathroom, with more anxious anticipation than before. Earlier, when I was planning my alone time, I had lit candles on the bathtub surround. The flicker of candlelight glowed in the mirrors. I closed the bathroom door, turned on the faucet and ran a tub of steaming hot water. I added bubbles and bath oil to make my bathing experience complete. I giggled at myself, realizing that I'd closed the bathroom door out of a habit. The irony of this instinctive act, closing the bathroom door, contrasted against my consensual act of leaving the door to my suite unlocked, struck me as comical.

I stepped out of my robe and into the tub. The water felt great. Hot and soaky. Steam rose to fog the mirror. Candle smoke filled the room with a sweet vanilla aroma. I sipped from my cold drink. The liquid, both the liquid in my stomach and the liquid around my body, worked hard to relax me, but adrenaline surged through my veins and my mind raced with anxious anticipation. I leaned my head back a focused on breathing in and out, controlling my heart rate and relaxing my fingers and toes. I stuck one toe against the faucet as the hot water poured out.

What was about to happen? My imagination ran wild with the possibilities. Would anonymous visitors enter my suite and find me naked in the bathtub? Would I be taken here in the bathroom, mirrors reflecting every angle, every view? Were they already in my room,... in the bedroom under the sheets,... playing with my vibrator? What if my mysterious admirer was Sam alone, trying to heighten the excitement between the two of us? What if the note was left by someone I didn't know,... maybe someone who had seen me in the lobby of the hotel wearing that sexy short skirt and high heels when I checked in at the reception desk? Maybe someone had admired me from a distance while I was dancing last night and followed me back to my room? Maybe it was those four young handsome college boys that had ridden up with me in the elevator when I came back to my room alone tonight? Did they get off on my floor, too? I couldn't remember. I just remember the admiring looks. They looked me up and down, but never said a word. I met their gazes and admired them, too. Was that enough to tempt them to devise this scheme? The possibilities that raced through my mind heightened my anticipation.

I was apprehensive but not afraid. I wanted to find out, to remain in control, but to test my limits. I felt like a sixteen-year-old girl about to go on her first date.

I turned off the water and time passed. I began to wonder if my admirers had chickened out. I wondered whether it was a hoax. Suddenly, my apprehension gave way to the possibility of disappointment. It might never happen. No one will show. I'm still here alone. After fighting a true sense of loss as long as I could, I pulled the stopper and the water began to drain. I toweled off quickly and pull my robe back on. My heart raced.

I cracked open the bathroom door and peeked into the bedroom. It was vacant. No one was in my bed. My vibrator waited patiently just where I'd left it. The sun was now down. Only the glint of the lights on the street below shown through the bedroom window. The hypnotic-beat of techno-music still emanated from the living area. I successfully had convinced myself that the note was just a prank,... that nothing was going to happen.

I toweled the wet stands of hair dangling about my neck and then tossed the towel onto the bed. Then, I walked to the living room, intending to latch the door back, get dressed and join my friends in the casino after masturbating until this nervous energy was gone.

When I entered the room, I saw a large, upholstered swivel chair positioned in the middle of the room. The chair had been moved, because I certainly had not left it in that spot. When I walked through the room moments earlier, it was tucked neatly beneath a writing desk against the wall. My heart leapt a beat.

From this distance, I could see placed on the chair was a note and a small piece of black fabric. I clutched my robe in the front and looked around the room before walking to the center of the room to read the note. Like the previous message, this note was folded neatly down the middle, scented with the same masculine odor and type written. It read "Thanks for extending the invitation. We promise to make it worth your while. In the chair you'll find a blindfold."

I looked more closely at the chair and, sure enough, the piece of black fabric was a blindfold, the kind used when sleeping to block out all the light.

The note continued, "Put it on. Remove the belt from your robe and place your belt on the floor beside the chair. Take a seat and relax. You're in complete control. Nothing will happen unless you want it to happen. Whatever you want to happen."

I glanced around the room one more time before submitting. I untied the belt to my robe and dropped it on the floor. My robe hung open, revealing my cleavage, my belly button and a small, trimmed patch of pubic hair hiding the top of my awakening little vagina. With one final glimpse of the room, I slipped on the blindfold and lost all sight. My vision completely gone, I felt my way backwards to sit down carefully on the chair. I crossed my legs and waited. Immediately, I notice how acute my other senses became: I could smell the flowers on the coffee table and the vanilla-scented smoke from the candles that lined my bath. Despite the techno-music, I could hear a clock tick. My feet sqwunched the thick carpet. I could feel the pulse in my wrists, my neck, my chest. My palms were sweaty.

I didn't have to wait long. I heard a doorknob turn and a door open. Footsteps crossed the foyer. More than two feet, but I couldn't tell how many more.

I hadn't expected the sense of danger that overtook me. Was I crazy? Did I know what I was doing? Who were these admirers? Why did I think I could trust them,... trust myself?

And yet, the words were fixed in my mind, "Nothing will happen unless you want it to happen. Whatever you want to happen, will."

I felt them approach. They were close by. Close enough to see the parts of me that showed beneath my robe. I kept still, trying to control my breathing, trying to control my heart rate. How many were there? I couldn't tell. I reached forward with one blind hand. One person moved away, in the direction of the bedroom. I could hear a door open, and then close, then that same person return to stand in front of me.

From behind me, a face nuzzled close to my right ear. The breathing of my admirer was steady, manly.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "Even though you feel you're not in control, you are." The voice was familiar, but the whisper cloaked the identity. How do I know that voice? The whisper was more breathless than the person's breathing would have suggested. I could hear his tongue lick his lips for moisture. His mouth was dry with excitement.

"Relax. I'm going to tie your hands now. Nod if that's okay."

I nodded willingly.

The man with the whispering voice touched my shoulder. His hand trailed down the length of my arm. I could hear his knees pop as he knelt in front of me. He gently took my left hand in his hands and positioned my arm and hand on the padded armrest of my chair. He secured my wrists snuggly to the chair with the belt of my robe. Another set of hands touched my other arm and tied my right wrist to the chair. Another belt from a bathrobe. That probably explained why he went into the bedroom moments ago. It occurred to me that he would have seen my vibrator that I left on the bed.

"Are you comfortable?" a second voice whispered in my ear.

I nodded affirmatively.

"Is it okay if we touch your magnificent breasts?"

I shook my head "yes" again.

Gently, a set of hands touched the collar of my robe and began peeling it back. My robe was unfolded from my shoulders. My bare shoulders were exposed. My large bare breasts were exposed, too. They heaved up and down. Shrouded in my dark fantasy world, I could sense my nipples standing at full attention. The hardness of my nipples must've looked impressive, I thought.

Hands touched my neck, the back of my neck, my shoulders. Other hands touched my shoulders, descending to my arms, the crook of my elbow. Four hands, two people, I thought. Maybe others are watching. Couldn't I hear others in the room? I wasn't quite sure.

One hand grazed my breast,... and then another. Soft, tender hands stroked my full bosom. They massaged each breast,... my exposed skin,... my sensitive nipples. My inner thighs began to feel creamy.

"Is it okay if we take off our clothes now?" whispered the first voice.

I nodded, not daring to speak at this point because I feared my voice would sound dry and weak.

Without hurrying, clothes rustled. Zippers unzipped. Shoelaces clicked the sides of shoes. One set of hands returned to my breasts, and then another.

"Can we kiss your breasts?" asked the second voice.

I nodded. Slowly, both bodies in turn leaned over mine, each taking turns caressing my tits with his mouth. I could feel their nude bodies pressing against my arms, their skin rested against the backs of my hands. The closeness of their bodies caused me to uncross my legs. Repositioning myself, I could feel the wetness that had built up between my legs. I wanted fingers to explore my wetness,... to caress my clit.

Wait, was that a third mouth I felt? I couldn't be sure, but something felt different,... maybe a smaller hand, a different set of lips, a different tongue. Or was I imagining it?

A voice whispered, "Can we touch you down there?"

My thoughts screamed, "hell yes" but I nodded a simple affirmation.

Hands on my feet. Spreading my legs. I imagined my sweet little vagina being exposed for my admirers to see. I could feel my inner lips opening on their own volition like petals of a flower. Hands on my knees. Moving to my thighs. I scooted forward as far as I could, trying to meet the coming touch. Fingers stroked my inner thighs. Silky smooth, wet and glistening, shimmering with eagerness. Fingers teased my tummy, circled through my tuft of pubic hair, crested the top of my opening. Other fingers teased my legs, my thighs, my buttocks. The waiting was more than I could stand. Already, a volcanic orgasm grew within me. Fingers parting the lips of my labia. My wetness so complete, the fingers slipped over my clit and into my vagina encountering no resistance. Even without the benefit of eyesight, I could tell my clit was protruding prominently. Two sets of fingers circled around it, applying just the right amount of pressure, neither moving too slow nor too fast. It was as if the hands behind the touch had year's of practice arousing my body.

The tension rose to a breaking point, a point where I could turn back or release and allow the approaching orgasm to crest and flow through me. I elected to give in a little, still holding back for a second, more powerful orgasm if things went as I now expected. I gave in to a small orgasm, biting my lip the whole while to keep from screaming as my vagina relented in jerks and spasms to the random soft touches.

"Is this good so far?" one of the voices asked.

I nodded greedily, more of a beg really. A slight whimper escaped by tongue-wetted lips.

"Would you like to perform oral sex on us?" one of the voices asked.

"Yes," I answered, breaking my silence. "But only if I can feel you," I said breathlessly.

My hands were untied. Hands grasped my shoulder and spun me slowly in the swivel chair. I rotated several time, carried by my own momentum. When I stopped spinning, I felt a pair of knees move in between my legs. They spread my legs even wider, exposing me even more. I reached out and placed my hands on a man's hips. The hips were narrow. My thumbs gripped his hipbones and I touched his tight abdomen. Sensing his aroused penis near my face, I leaned forward and found it with my mouth. I kissed it. First, on the head, then on the shaft. I used my tongue along the length of it. It was long. And thick. I moved my hands to his balls. They were large and firm. I then moved back up the shaft and put the head of his penis in my mouth. It was large, round and smooth. It was fantastic. "Was this Will?" I wondered to myself. He felt like I imagined that my girlfriend's husband, Will, would feel -- strong, large, in control, masculine and gentle.

"Yes, that's it, yes," he whispered coolly, as I took him.

The other voice pierced my blind fantasy, asking, "Can I go down on you while you go down on my friend?"

I nodded "yes" as best I could with a large cock in my mouth.

My blowjob partner stepped to the side but I maintained my mouth on his cock as he cleared the way for his friend to go down on me. From beneath, hands grasped under my knees and scooted me forward. I continued to suck on the first man's cock while the second man positioned himself between my legs. He held my legs up from below, spreading my legs to access me easily.

Lips touched my sodden pussy. Ripples of pleasure cascaded over my entire body with each nibble. Then a tongue, it explored every part of my slit. Immediately, I wanted was overpowered with the desire to come again. My juices flowed irrepressibly. The tongue searched me, my clit, my vagina, my anus. Jerking off the cock with one hand and my mouth and propping up myself on the chair with my other arm, I bucked my hips against this fleshy, soft mouth, his tongue exploring me in deep penetrating rhythms,... rhythms that predicted the intense orgasm that was coming.

The feeling was exquisite. I sucked furiously. Saliva ran down the shaft and onto the one hand that I was using to hold onto the cock. I tasted pre-cum and felt the shaft grow more rigid as volcanic intent filled the man's veins.

Suddenly, the man's cock in my throat started to cum. I latched onto his shaft and took his sweet ejaculate as it spurted into my mouth. He came over and over again,... with each thrust spraying more milky juices down my throat. It tasted clean and manly and sweet.

Strong arms pulled my legs over the shoulders of the person who knelt at my feet. My hips gladly buried my muff in this man's face, nose and mouth. My thighs clinched the man's head tightly, locking onto his every movement. The mouth accelerated its sucking and flicking of my clit and pussy lips. My own mouth was now free and words began to escape my mouth uncontrollably in response to the unabated assault on my pussy, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

He unwrapped my legs from his shoulders and placed me on my back on the floor. My lover then positioned himself in the 69 position and my mouth searched until I found his cock. I took the full length and width of it as deep as I could and then I repositioned my head and neck until I could take it even deeper. He plunged in and out of my throat to the point that I gagged with each luscious stroke. Then, below, I heard a buzzing sound and the tip of my beloved vibrator touched my gaping cunt. I grabbed my thighs, pulled my legs upward and farther apart and thrust my hips forward to help push the soft head and shaft inside me. It glided easily into my moistened hole and sent waves of delight coursing through my body. It pulsed in and out of my vagina as I sucked furiously on my lover's cock. With mad, unrelenting suction, my lover soon reached the point of no return and sent streams of precious liquid down my throat. I latched on tight with my lips until every drop was consumed and then, with three more hard thrusts of my hips, I was ready to climax myself. I pulled my mouth away so I could breath and so I could herald my own oncoming orgasm.

"Oh fuck, yes!" I screamed. "Fuck, fuck, yes!!!"

I came again, this time like a thunderstorm. My orgasm was so intense that, for the first time in my life, I felt myself ejaculate. I had heard of other women experiencing this, but I never had before. Although I couldn't see it, I could feel it and I knew what had happened. The intensity of my contractions squirted my juices in uncontainable spasms. The floor beneath me immediately was wet. It was as if I'd discovered an old, familiar toy that played a new game. I felt exhausted and wanted to sleep.

As I drifted, I could hear my playmates collect their clothes and get dressed.

"Okay, that's all for now," the first voice whispered. He kissed me on the lips. "But if you ever want a repeat performance, just leave a note with the hotel concierge, address it to Mr. Blindfold, and we'll come find you."