An Adventure at the Hilton Hotel

My boyfriend Ronnie - the love of my life, was in jail. Probably for a very long time. The trial alone was expected to last another 6 months, and they had allowed no bail. I had skated on a technicality, but the prospect of a re-filing of charges was possible at anytime and if something stuck, I could be sitting in prison for twenty years.

Try living with that over your head. I was a bundle of anxiety. I really needed to have a little fun.

Everyone in my little town knew who I was and what was going on with my life. Everyone was watching me every time I went into public. I felt like I was suffocating under the spotlight of my infamy, and for just one night I wanted to get away to someplace where I wouldn't be the topic of conversation. And so I did.

My destination for the evening was the bar of the local Hilton, by far the nicest hotel in the area. It was a place where locals never went and weren't encouraged to go. It existed apart from the town and liked it that way. Even the clerks, maids and other workers seemed to be from somewhere else.

It wasn't a particularly nice hotel. Certainly nothing fancy like the hotels to be found in big cities. That didn't matter to me though. It was the unlikelihood of actually seeing anyone I knew was the attraction. I didn't want to be seen.

I was tired of local men, local morals, and all the bullshit that came with them. I just wanted to have a good time without being judged for it. I had plans for the evening and they included not ending it alone.

This all happened decades ago. I wasn't 21 yet, but it was a much simpler time and laws like that didn't mean as much in the farm towns of the heartland. In most places they didn't care how old you really were as you looked old enough, could pay your tab and behaved yourself.

I dressed in my prettiest dress. The lingerie beneath had never been farther from the bed than the floor. I walked through the lobby of hotel as if I owned the place, because if I didn't, they probably would have thrown my ass out.

The place was doing good business, but there was a seat at the bar. The bartender didn't seem as happy to see me as everyone else. He thought I was a hooker- I could tell. He stared me down trying to intimidate me at first, but I guess he decided I might be good for business. I got my drink, but there was tension there.

I looked around. There were men of every age, size and shape. They were all so nicely dressed. To me, a nice suit is like lingerie for guys. I loved to look at men in well-tailored suits.

I sat there for a while sipping my drink but no one hit on me. I wasn't prepared for that. In my little world, taverns were where you went to find other people to drink with, fight and fuck. Here everyone seemed to be keeping to themselves. I decided that if they wouldn't come to me, I'd go to them.

There were a two billiards tables in the back of the bar. I had been playing pool since I was tall enough to reach over the table, so I decided I'd rack'em up and see if anyone else wanted to play. I put a $10 on the bar and asked for a second drink. I got the drink, but no change, the bartender's way of letting me know I was barely being tolerated. I got the message.

I dug around in my purse for the quarters to play and made my way to one of the tables, but found there was no place to put in quarters in. The balls were just sitting there. You didn't have to pay to play. I had never seen a table like that.

I was (and still am) very good with a stick in my hand. Over the next few minutes I put on a show. Whether they were watching my shots as I dropped ball after ball into the pockets or were just watching my ass as I stretched over the table, I didn't know and didn't care. Either way, I had their attention.

By the time I lined up the final shot to clear the table, the whole place was quiet. There was a light round of applause as the 8 ball slid slowly into a side-pocket while the cue ball spun slowly to a stop mid-table.

Once the first rack was gone, two men grabbed the table next to me. They seemed at the time like something out of the movies. Dapper as shit in their manly suits with ties and shiny jewelry holding their cuffs shut. I'd really never seen a man dressed so well unless he was at his own wedding or funeral.

Beneath those suits I could tell were bodies that had been built and sculpted in expensive workout palaces with gleaming chrome covered weights and equipment like on TV. There were lots of guys with muscles in our town, but the muscle came from hard work on farms and ranches. It was like comparing racing thoroughbreds to plow horses. The way these men carried themselves gracefully was just so fucking hot.

There was small talk as we played our next sets, courteously getting out of each other's way while we were lining up shots. I was running my table, rack after rack. It was so much fun when you didn't have to pump quarters in to get the balls back. The pair next to me continued to knock their balls around but it was obvious they were not here for the game. I was enjoying their attention.

Finally, one of us suggested we should all play together.(I think it was me.) The patter of "nice shot" and "wow, you're really good" gave way to a more involved conversation.

"Where are you from" and "What brings you to town" are ready made conversation starters in a hotel, and my asking them the questions showed them that I was interested. Their answers were always brief and they returned with more open ended questions intended to draw me into the conversation, focusing their attention on me instead of themselves. It's a trait more men should learn. Farm boys in town were not nearly so sophisticated.

Finally I admitted I wasn't a guest. I was a townie. They seemed surprised. They asked questions about the town and the people, but not "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" I am sure that was a question on their minds. They were polite and let the conversation go wherever I wanted it to.

I finally answered the question for them. "I'm here because I am tired of the same old crowd." It seemed to be enough.

We played another round while chatting about their hometown, a city I recognized but could not place on a map. They talked of visits to far-away places and life beyond my little world.

I had talked to plenty of truckers who lived life on the road, but it wasn't the same. These men didn't just drive through these places - they had really experienced them.

Living in a small town, you see the same faces with the same stories every single day. Talking to these men was like going on an adventure.

They asked me if they could take me to dinner, but the places in town had all closed shortly after dark and I didn't really want to suggest we go to the truck stop diners where people knew me.

They asked how the hotel restaurant was and the bartender, who I guess had been listening in, jumped into the conversation and said that the hotel restaurant had closed at 9PM. He suggested that at this hour the only availability was room service.

So, I turned to the men and suggested room service.

I was inviting myself to their room and we all knew it. They locked eyes and gave each other a silent nod. We ordered a "drink for the road" and they took care of the bill. It didn't take long to get to the elevator. I felt every man in the room watch us leave.

Hotel rooms as I knew them were a bed, a bathroom, and a side table to put your drink on or maybe a $50 or $100 if it was that kind of a date. There also maybe a tv if you were in a nice place.

I wasn't ready for the two bedroom suite with the living room between that I wound up I - a big, roomy palace with sofas and other niceties. This was actually quite comfortable.

Room service was on "overnight menu" meaning it was just a handful of items. We ordered burgers, more beer, and a bottle of whiskey, and then settled in on the couch to wait.

Funnily enough I realized that we had never really introduced ourselves so I did. I introduced myself with a name close enough to my real name that I thought I might remember it later. They were Murphy and Paul.

Murphy was the better looking of the two. He was also older, maybe 35 or so. Paul was younger. I'd have guessed for mid-20s. They seemed very comfortable together - you could tell they traveled together a lot.

So we sat and drank our drinks and wallowed in that "what's going to happen next?" vibe. It was thick in this hotel room. They were both still being gentlemen but I know they felt it. I sensed that neither man quite knew what to make of me or of the situation.

I on the other hand, was feeling right at home. I kicked off my heels, played with the tv remote, and generally had a good time. The men took my cue and removed their jackets and ties which was too bad. They looked so hot in those suits.

I excused myself for a moment to use the bathroom. I had three drinks in me I needed to lose, bra straps to straighten, breath to check and all the all important panty check to make sure the damn things weren't riding up my ass. I didn't want whichever guy I wound up with to be disappointed when I took off my dress. This was something I hoped to do as soon as the food was done. I was so ready.

When I came back, the server guy was at the door with our food cart. We grazed for a bit and drank beer, then grabbed the whiskey bottle and the ice bucket off trays and dumped the rest in the hall.

That "anything can happen" feeling slowly returned to the room, but with three moving forward was harder than two. There was a need to thin the herd, but how? I think the two of them were both wondering how the other would react if they went for it. I was ready for whichever one decided to be brave.

We talked and drank and did some low level flirting, but we were running out of small talk. Finally Paul, who'd ordered his burger with onions, excused himself to brush his teeth, explaining that he felt like his breath might peel the paper off the walls. I was glad to hear he was thinking hygiene though his breath smelled of alcohol, not condiments.

This left Murphy and I alone. I had been sitting between the two men on the couch, so we we were close, and we had been flirting up a storm. In a situation like this, a woman takes advantage of the fact that sometimes you can just position your body in a way that it becomes impossible for your boobs not to rub his arm when he moves.

The dress I was wearing had a sweetheart plunge neckline (basically like bra cups sewn into the top with a plunging cleavage line in between) and the lord blessed had me in the breast department, so if that didn't get his attention I didn't know what would.

He had been looking at the TV where the news was playing silently on the screen, but turned his head to look at me when I bumped him with a boob. He looked over and down, and didn't look away.

The look was not sneaky and it was devoid of shyness. I appreciated that honesty of that. It was honest and mature. That was all I needed. I asked him if he liked what he saw but didn't wait for an answer. Instead I crawled up onto his lap and asked if he wanted a better view.

In a split second I was straddling him, my skirt hiked up a bit so that the crotch of my panty was pressing hard on his zipper. Underneath it I could tell he wasn't hard, but there was something stirring and it felt like he had real potential. When mounting a man in this manner, a little open mouthed tongue kissing is in order and I respect traditions like that. He did too.

French kissing is pretty high school, but it's a place to start and gave me a reason to pull down my dress and bra so that my boobs were semi-free. Soon enough my left nipple was in his mouth.

That's how Paul found us when he exited the bathroom.

I had known this was coming but had no plan for when it did. Paul's face expressed surprise and then disappointment. He started to make a hasty exit from the room. I didn't want him to be mad, so I called him name just so I could apologize or something.

It was never meant to be what it turned into. You see, again, this was a long time ago. Threesomes were something that happened in dirty movies maybe, and something I had seen mentioned in magazines like Cosmo, but they really weren't a reality - at least not in this town.

I'd been pawed up pretty good once by two farm boys when I was drunk at a party, but the thought that I might ever have sex with both men at once never even crossed my mind when I called Paul back into that room.

My intent in calling Paul had been to maybe tell him I thought he was attractive too but things just happened. I couldn't find the words to say I was going to be with Murphy tonight but I didn't want him to be mad. (I had my boobs in Murphy's guys face and was drying humping him. I kind of thought that might be enough.)

Instead, Paul came dashing towards me with a hungry look in his eye. He had his own idea about what my calling him back meant. Before I could say anything he was behind me and starting to make a move to cup my breasts. It was a bit awkward and shocking for a second, but it felt better than I expected. I was drunk and so I went with it.

Soon enough I was leaning back into Paul and started kissing him instead while Murphy watched us from a convenient location between my legs. I don't think he minded the view of my tits moving freely or the way I was grinding onto the hardness in his pants.

I went back to Murphy for another round of tongue play, and then back to Paul and for a few minutes the men shared me. Two sets of hands roamed down my dress and up it from opposite directions. It wasn't well choreographed at times. There was plenty of fumbling around and too many people trying to do too many things at once, but I don't think anyone was complaining.

Eventually, the two worked together long enough to return me to an upright position and in a single motion my lovely dress was lifted up and off. I was left in my pretty lingerie, which was an satin panty and bra set with a matching garter holding up the stockings.

They paused for just a moment to view this newly exposed layer of me. My arms had been lifted over my head along with the dress when they removed it and my breasts had slid back into position in their little green hammocks. For all the ravaging of the prior few minutes, I looked almost picture perfect as I posed on Murphy's crotch. It was as if I had planned that I'd model myself this way.

I sat in my near nakedness and felt I was being admired as if I was some kind of work of art. It was such a turn-on. Any unease I had at the idea of taking the two of them together, it quickly melted away.

Murphy reached down with his hand, slid aside my panty and dipped a finger inside. I felt that special something that starts at the base of your tailbone and tickles from the tip of your clit to the top of your brain. I wasn't an orgasm, but it was close enough that I couldn't wait to get started.

I started to unhook the garter belt as I continued to slowly rock on Murphy's cock. When both stockings were freed I stood up and let Paul peel down the two - one silky legging after another.

Paul nuzzled between my legs with his nose, which I loved, but I had my own ideas on who was going to go down on whom first. My panties were soaked and had he continued I probably would have cum immediately, but I felt like I wanted just a few minutes more of my sexy costume before it wound up on the floor.

I pulled Murphy up off the couch. I pulled Paul up too. I think they thought we were going to go to the bedroom, but as he stood I sank to my knees. I undid Paul's pants first and dug into his pants and pulled out his cock. It was semi-hard and not as large as I hoped. I gave it a kiss and a taste to see if it would get any bigger. It didn't.

What Paul lacked, Murphy made up for. He was hard as a rock and huge. I took him into my mouth and Paul my hand. It didn't take long for Paul to finally get good and hard, so I reversed cocks and hand position to give him some attention. I did this for a few minutes, letting both be voyeurs and participants, moving from cock to cock with my mouth.

It was a study in contrasts. Paul was passive and stood very still, letting me lick and suck him slowly and at my own pace. Murphy on the other hand, was aggressive and even invasive, grabbing the back of my head and pushing himself down my throat. Sometimes I had to go back to Paul's dick just so I could catch my breath.

I tasted his pre-cum and knew that Paul was on edge. What I really wanted was a fuck, but figured getting him off might help me get to Murphy's cock faster. I doubled my attention on Paul by moving my hand from the base of his cock down to the back of his balls. I put a finger on his asshole. I knew men liked that, and Paul seemed to really respond to it. In seconds he was starting to go.

I've never been a big fan of the taste of cum so I pulled him out and he came all over my neck and boobs. (And just a bit on Murphy's pants I think.) There was a lot. I was still wearing my bra, and the cleavage filled up with his cum, and then dripped onto the carpet.

Paul out of the way, I turned my attention exclusively to Murphy's large hot cock. Paul was watching me and so I put on a bit of a show, licking his cock and balls, taking him in my mouth, and jacking off the part I couldn't get into my mouth with my hands.

Soon enough Murphy seemed ready to go. I opened wide and really worked the head of it into the back of my throat. I swallowed most of his load before he started withdrawing and so I barely tasted it. What I didn't swallow wound up on my chin and in my hair.

Murpy was the ticklish sort that withdrew himself as soon as he orgasmed. I was left there on my knees with these two beautiful men still fully clothed with their cocks out. I was covered with their cum.

I let the two of them stand there admiring their handiwork while I caught my breath. Soon enough I stood, wiping the cum from my lips and smiling at them both. Each had a shy smile on their face as I think they realized they were now standing with their dwindling cocks dripping onto the floor, shoulder to shoulder with another man.

I wanted a cock in me so bad in hurt. I stood up and walked over to the coffee table. I took a drink from one of the glasses, I guess it didn't matter at this point whose, and as the alcohol hit the back of my throat I realized it was just a bit raw from where I'd deep throated Murphy's big cock.

I lingered there for a moment with my back to them, knowing that they were both probably checking out my ass and panties. I had worn them for a reason.

I turned around then, and in a single motion unhooked and dropped the bra off by breasts and into my hands. I found the spots of cum on the cup and put them to my mouth, sucking them one at a time out of the material.(The guys I'm sure saw that as a slut move, but I just wanted to minimize the stain.)

Next I dropped the bra onto the floor and went back to the men, who were both still cocks out and standing where I left them. I grabbed one in each hand and caressed them back to semi-hardness while leaning over to kiss one man then the other. That neither pulled back from the kiss was a plus. I really appreciated that. Country boys were so weird about that after they've cum in your mouth.

"So boys that was a fun, but I have needs too." I looked up from their cocks, and into their faces. "You guys up for a fuck?" Both uttered their approval for the idea, so I took a few minutes to strip them both fully. Taking my time and admiring the view.

I hadn't even thought about moving this into the bedroom. I frankly almost never had sex in bed unless it was morning sex. Instead I knelt on the sofa and draped myself over the back of it. I had panties on still, but as I looked back Paul was already in the process of peeling them down far enough to uncover my sex.