This story is dedicated to Dee -- my little midwestde. And she knows why. You will know why when you have completed the rest of our story!
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My heart quickened its pace with excitement. That night I finally met my new lover. After chatting with her for weeks over the internet, sneaking naughty little orgasms here and there with her, we barely even knew each other. But finally we were going to meet. I had hidden my face in a bid for anonymity, but finally we would meet in Chicago, a city of millions, where neither of us are from, and neither of us are likely to move – it was simply a place for us to have sex. In that way, it was sort of like the internet.
I had booked us the presidential suite at the Marriott. My lover thinks I am at another of my conferences and my new lover's husband thought that she was going to meet a friend for a "girl's weekend" of shopping and clubbing in the Windy City. If the poor guy had only known! When she brought up the subject of her being with another woman, she said it like, "a friend of mine is curious about other women and wants to try . . .," he scoffed and said the friend was nuts. I'm guessing the guy would blow a circuit if he only knew what was about to happen this weekend! I arrived a few hours earlier and prepared everything – the room was set up exactly to my specifications, and I had had time to unpack my few items and place them the way I wanted. I then made reservations, took a shower to freshen up, got dressed and went to the lobby to await my new lover.
My outfit attracted stares, and that's exactly what it was designed to do – but I was really only interested in what it would do for one person. I was wearing black leather full-calf boots that wrapped my lower leg like a lover's hand, and had three-inch heels. I'm about five foot eight, so this makes me as tall or taller than some men – too bad if they're intimidated. I don't mind intimidating men. Maybe they shouldn't be so damned insecure. I wore an ankle length leather skirt that was VERY tight-fitting, but it has a slit in it up the side nearly to my hip. I was wearing black stockings being held in place by a garter-belt with delicate silver clasps. Depending on how I moved or crossed my legs, it became obvious that I was wearing these things to those whom I wanted to show. There weren't many in the hotel lobby. The raven-haired desk clerk couldn't keep her eyes off me and I could see the smouldering lust in her eyes. I almost wondered if she would be so unprofessional as to leave a message some other attempt at contact with a guest of the hotel. If so, she might be rewarded quite well on a future trip I make to Chicago. . . . As a top, I wore a black silk corset that covered just enough of my breasts to keep me from being kicked out of the lobby, but not enough to leave much to the imagination. It was also tightened to the point that the reality of my waist was no longer part of this plane of existence. Over this I wore a very light white silk shirt unbuttoned that fluttered with the wind generated with each passer-by.
My makeup was light – I was never a fan of wearing the stuff anyway, but I made sure to wear at least some lipstick. I wanted to be a "lipstick lesbian" tonight and the feel of that greasy substance sliding between my lips and my lover's would be quite wonderful. My blonde-highlighted hair was pulled back away from my face, but otherwise unencumbered. It reached to below my shoulders in waves and I looked forward to my lover grabbing it with both hands and tugging it as we kissed. MMMMM. . . . I was already quite moist from my general excitement, but I was really starting to juice up with anticipation as the moment of truth was coming closer.
Finally, it had arrived. After about half an hour of fending off hapless men (one confident businessman who was quite confident that he had the key to this woman's chastity belt!) and a very pleasantly erotic conversation with a coquettish college student (alas! Too young for me), there she was – my new lover!
