When Inga and her friends returned to their hotel is was close to 2AM. She was tired, both from the number of pastel-colored drinks she'd consumed and from gently--and then, not so gently--informing a number of guys at the bar that she wouldn't be going home with him tonight. Under normal circumstances she might've given in, fucked one of them, left him exhausted and moaning and covered in sweat. But not after the day she'd just had. Not after the man she'd met today.
She and her giggling friends walked down the hall, talking about the night's events, though Inga still hadn't told any of them about the man who fondled her to orgasm that afternoon, the man who had ejaculated into her mouth at the bar. And she remembered that he said that their little encounter wasn't over yet, and that he'd "see her tonight". But how was that possible? It was 2AM. He'd left the bar shortly before her group did. And when he did leave, he hadn't so much as looked over at her. She wondered if what he said was just talk. And then she remembered his hands on her, all over her, how strong and confident and skilled, and knew that he wasn't just talk.
She reached in her purse for the keycard to open her door. And couldn't find it. She rummaged around, sure she'd brought it with her...but it wasn't in her purse. "Oh, shit," she said, and one of her friends asked what was the matter. "I don't have my card," she said.
They gathered around as she searched once again, and then one of her friends said, "Maybe it fell out when that guy knocked your purse on the floor."
And Inga felt butterflies take wing in her belly. "What guy?"
"This guy came to the bar to get a drink, he bumped your purse with his elbow. Maybe it fell out when it hit the floor."
Inga nodded. "I'll call the bar tomorrow, maybe they found it." She swallowed. "What did the guy look like?"
"He was cute. Pretty blue eyes, he had a nice smile. He apologized for being klutzy. But he didn't seem to interested in us, he was there with a big group of people."
Inga nodded, and said good night to her friends as she took the elevator down to the lobby. She explained to the clerk what happened and the girl said she'd have a new card made up. Inga slowly looked around to see if he was waiting there in the lobby. He wasn't. She was excited and as her nipples slowly hardened she had to fight the urge to touch them.
"Here you go," the clerk said. "There will be a $10 charge if you can't find the original..."
"Oh, I'm sure I just left it in the room," Inga said with a smile. "I'll return the extra tomorrow morning."
She went up to her room, stripped, and fought the urge to masturbate. She knew, she KNEW, he'd come to see her tonight. She wanted to be ready for him, for whatever he had ready for her.
She thought about running a bath, but she was afraid he might come when she was in the bathroom. A bath together would be delicious...but it wasn't big enough. She turned down the lights and lay down on the cool, white sheets. The air conditioner hummed, the bed was soft, and despite herself, despite the excitement and anxiety, she felt herself falling asleep. And a few moments later, she was asleep.
How long she slept she didn't know. She heard the soft "click" at her door, saw a sliver of light cross the room as the door open and closed. She was wide awake now, frightened but aroused, as footsteps sounded and a large figure appeared at the foot of the bed.
"You're awake?" he asked in a soft voice.
"Yes."
"Good," he said, and she heard him set something heavy down on the dresser. Then she saw him pull his shirt up over his head, heard him unzip and step out of his shorts, and then his boxers.
"I hope my lip prints didn't cause you any problems tonight," she said nervously.
"They did," he said as he gently seized her ankles and pulled her hips to the edge of the bed.
Inga tried to keep her voice from breaking. "With that girl you were talking to?"
"Mmm-hmm." He went down on his knees between her splayed legs. "She wanted me to fuck her, but how could I, with your lipstick all over me. Plus I'd just come like a gusher and wasn't much in the mood."
"So what did you do?" Inga asked, biting her lower lip in anticipation of what must be coming.
"I did this." And his lips brushed the outer lips of her pulsating vagina. He didn't go at her right away, he took his time, as he always too his time. His tongue traced a wet line along the inside of her left thigh, and then across her pubic bone to her right thigh.