The Layover

Summary: Going to bed with a much older stranger.

"I'll have another dirty martini, please!" I call out to the bartender.

Fuck, overnight layover in Atlanta, ugh.

I think as I let out a deep sigh. My plans for topless massages and sangria on the beach in Ibiza tomorrow have been delayed, leaving me impatient and annoyed.

"Did you miss your connecting flight, too?" a man inquires from two seats over at the bar.

I'm not in the mood to chat.

I don't feel fresh after five hours on a flight and several more at the airport. I'm about to give you a dismissive response, then I look up and see you.

Damn. Handsome.

A well-dressed, distinguished older gentleman with ice blue eyes looks over at me.

"Yeah, and I'm stuck here at the Best Western's airport hotel overnight." I sigh again.

"Ah, we have the same accommodations for tonight, lucky us!" your eyes twinkle, and my mood lightens slightly.

"I was supposed to meet my girlfriend in Spain for some long overdue R&R. I guess another day in waiting won't kill me, though," I say as I offer a half-smile, trying to sync up with your more lighthearted mood. "Not much to do now, but down a couple of drinks and hit the sack, I suppose."

The bartender arrives with my second cocktail, and without missing a beat, you tell him to put it on your tab. I swivel towards you on my barstool and say thank you with a smile.

"Shall I join you?" I offer.

"Sure, if you'd like. I'd much rather enjoy a drink in the company of a lovely young woman than sit here alone." You say, matter-of-factly.

I can feel my cheeks getting warm as I pick up my purse and move down the two seats to sit next to you. "Thank you," I say with a friendly smile.

"Mark Velance, nice to meet you."

"Dylan Reid," I reply. I meet your eyes and see something flicker through them. Is that desire? Maybe, but it's tucked away behind your gentlemanly demeanor.

"So, Dylan, tell me about your R&R plans during your time in Spain?"

"Ohhhh, I don't know, getting topless massages while smoking hash and watching the waves roll," I say before recoiling. H

ave some reserve! You don't even know this man!

My cheeks blush again. Without waiting for your response, I blurt out, "TMI? Sorry, I'm an open book."

I should slow down on the dirty martinis. I may be getting too tipsy.

"Ha! That's alright. Openness is an admirable quality," you smile warmly at me, "....although I'm not sure I should be picturing you topless, you are young enough to be my daughter!"

I laugh nervously, unsure of how to respond. Instead, I lift my martini glass to my lips and take a large gulp.

I'm feeling flush now as the vodka runs a wave through my body.

I look over at you, and again I see the same flicker of something deep in your eyes.

What is that look?

I glance down and pause as I realize I can see the shape of your dick in your pants. It's pressed along the length of your inner thigh.

Is he getting hard?

I look back up and meet your eyes. My cheeks instantly feel like they're on fire. You've caught me admiring you.

Fuck, this is so awkward! Why do you always have to get so horny when you're drinking??

I berate myself.

You readjust in your seat and sit up straighter. "Well, Dylan, it's been a pleasure to meet you, and I hope you have a good rest before your flight tomorrow," you say as you flag the waiter to pay your bill. "Enjoy your R&R time."

"Oh, yes...thank you, same to you," I offer half-heartedly, feeling disappointed.

As you're standing to leave, I realize the warmth from my cheeks has moved south and is now settling between my legs.

What was I expecting would happen here? Did I think this gentleman who's more than twice my age was going to ask me to fuck him after having one drink? Come on, Dylan. That's ridiculous.

I get up from my stool, grab my suitcase, walk to the elevator and make my way up to my room. As soon as I'm through the door, I begin stripping off my yoga pants and tank top in pursuit of a much-needed shower. I'm lathering body wash all over myself when you pop back into my mind.

The character on your face, the smile lines next to each of your pale blue eyes, the way you carried yourself...

I feel a familiar pulsing sensation between my legs, and I immediately put my soapy lathered hand on the spot and start rubbing. I lean back against the shower wall and let the warm water spray over me as I work out my sexual frustrations alone in the shower.

I want him. I need to feel him inside of me.

My thoughts are running away from me now.

He's already gone, Dylan. Just get yourself off and go to bed.

I rinse my body towel off outside the shower and make my way to the bed.

I let my knees fall open, spit onto my fingers and push them into my aching pussy.

I didn't need that spit,

I think to myself, as my fingers become soaked in slippery juices. I'm using my fingertips to stroke my g-spot when my mind wanders back to you again. I think of your lap and the shape of your beautiful penis in your trousers. I fantasize about rolling my tongue around the tip of it while looking up at your sparkling eyes. My heart starts racing, and I begin involuntarily clenching around my fingers inside my slit.

She's hungry for cock,

I determine.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I've grabbed the phone to dial the front desk. "Hello? Best Western Hotel, how can I help you?"

"Oh hi, my name is Dylan, I'm staying in room 412, and I'd like you to connect me to Mark Velance's room, please.

"Sure, hold a minute, please."

My heart rate speeds up again.

What am I going to say? Oh, hi, we made some small talk at the bar for an hour, and now I'm masturbating while thinking of you?! That's so inappropriate!"

"Hello, Dylan," you answer. Your voice sounds different, deeper, sexier. A flash of your face with that undetermined look crosses my mind again.

"Hi, Sir (

Sir? What?

) I was just....um....I just got back to my room and, umm..."

"It's okay, Dylan. You can come to my room. Number 622, see you soon."

Click. The line goes dead.

Before I can deliberate with myself about how to proceed, my body is leading the way. I get up from the bed, pull on a cute floral dress that I've packed for Spain, some ballerina flats, and I'm out the door and on my way to the elevator. I'm pressing the button to floor 6 when I feel something dripping down my inner thigh, and I realize in my haste I've forgotten to put panties on under my dress.

Ding! I exit the elevator on your floor and locate the direction of your room.

No turning back now,

I think. I arrive at room 622 and knock gently. I can barely hear the sound of my knock over my heart thumping in my chest.

What am I getting myself into?

The door swings open, and seeing your familiar face brings me ease, if only for a moment. You motion for me to come inside, so I enter the room and take a seat in an armchair.

I remember my lack of underwear and cross my legs in a feigned attempt at acting demure.

He knows why I'm here. Why else would I call him up in his room?

You sit on the side of the bed facing me, with your knees spread. I can't help myself from looking down at your lap again to get a look at the cock I've been aching for since we parted earlier.

"You're a bad girl, Dylan," you say, in a tone that is unlike the one I recall from our earlier banter. Your statement leaves no space for an alternative opinion.

I look up at you, and this time it's your gentlemanly demeanor that's tucked away behind a look of desire.

"I just, um, I was feeling a bit lonely in my room and..."

"and you thought you'd come to find your Daddy so he can take care of you?"

"I, I..." My mind is racing. I can't seem to sort out my thoughts quickly enough to form articulate sentences that usually come to me quickly.

"Come here," you place your hand on the bed next to you.

My timidness is luring me into a submissive state. A sense of fear is creeping up upon witnessing an intensity that I hadn't seen when we met at the bar earlier. But my body is warm and aching, and it's betraying my logic and reason. I uncross my legs to stand, and I can feel the moisture between them has accumulated.

There's no going back now, Dylan,

I say again to myself as I move from the chair to the bed.

Your eyes are roaming my body, and although I am still dressed, I feel completely exposed. "Sweet Dylan," you tuck a strand of my wet hair behind my ear, "Is this what you want?" You look down and place your hand on your dick, which is now unquestionably erect in your pants. You stroke the length of it a few times, then look back at me as you unzip your pants and pull your cock out of them. You reach over and fondle one of my breasts before pulling it out of my dress. Then your hand moves to the back of my neck, and you pull my head down into your lap. "Show me what bad little girls do to earn forgiveness," you say encouragingly.

My mind has been silenced by my body's desires as I take your cock in my mouth and swallow it down my throat voraciously. One of my hands reaches over to caress your sack and tickle your taint beneath it. I'm hungrily sucking your head and alternately plunging your dick down my throat. I am trying to impress you, I realize, without pausing. Your hand is on the back of my head, and you're driving me forward and back again, fucking my face furiously. Beads of saliva are pouring out of my mouth and dispersing all over your balls. I use the slipperiness and my fingers to tickle your sack while my lips are stretched around the base of your cock. My body is trembling as you tug my hair at the nape of my neck and look me in the eyes. There's no more gentleman, just a dominant Daddy who I haven't yet satisfied.

Still holding my hair, you stand and yank me up with you before turning me and throwing me face-first onto the bed. You pull my floral dress up to my waist and grip my ass cheek tightly before slapping it hard. "I told you I shouldn't have been picturing you topless, young Dylan," you say, with mild disdain. I have nothing to offer in the way of words, and I'm far past the point of no return, so I just whimper and arch my bare ass in the air. I can hear your erratic breaths as you grip my thighs and pull them apart. A shock travels from my pelvis to my head and toes as you ram the entire length of your cock into my throbbing pussy. "Ahhhhh!" I cry out. Your hands have moved to my hips, and you're thrusting as though you want to break me in half.

I didn't sign up for this.

I think, yet I stay still and keep taking it.

"Flip over," you instruct while hovering over me. I do as I'm told, and roll onto my back, to meet your eyes. Your steely gaze softens just slightly as you pet the side of my cheek. "Beautiful young girl, so determined to get what she wants." You pause to plant a wet kiss on my lips. "Now Daddy is going to take what he wants." My voice comes out a quiver, "Okay," and without thinking twice, I add, "Daddy."

I'm consumed by the moment. Your maturity gives me a sense of security that may be false, but at this point, I don't care. My pussy is on fire and drenched, and I want Daddy to bring it comfort and care. We're moving so fast that I can't tell anymore whether we're in your fantasy or mine or if we're creating it together. All I know is that it feels right to submit to your every want and need. I pull my head off the bed and kiss your lips, your neck, your collar bone. I have no words to describe these feelings, but I can show you with my body, with my affection for you. "Good girl," you purr in my ear as I'm tonguing your neck. "You deserve a reward."

You guide the tip of your cock to my ass and stroke it up and down my crack, then up and down my pussy and clit. Again and again, you stroke up and down, pausing intermittently. I begin to get frustrated and start squirming, trying to force your entry. You pull back and smile mischievously at me, then say, "Didn't your Daddy teach you any manners, little girl? Ask nicely."

"Please, Daddy," I whimper.

Where is this coming from? I barely recognize myself anymore.

"Again!"

"Please, Daddy! Take me; I'm yours!" I throw my head back and spread my legs as wide as I can, offering myself to you.

You smile at me as you force your rod deep inside my tight little asshole. Tears begin to flow from my eyes as I'm overwhelmed by the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. My pussy is gushing with warm juices. They flow from my slit down to my crack and are forced into my ass with every thrust of your rock-hard cock. A familiar tingling sensation is growing throughout my entire body. I look to you for permission to cum.

"Daddy, can I cum for you?"

"Ohhhhhh, yes, baby girl, but only when Daddy is ready. Soon, my sweet," you continue thrusting, taking me over and over again.

My pussy begins to clench around you as if begging for you to fill me up. I want - no - I

need

your cum so badly. I don't think I've ever wanted anything more. "Daddy, I want to feel your hot cum deep inside my sweet little ass. Please, give it to me!"

"Here it comes, baby, take it all; Ohhhhhhh yes baby, yes."

Hot ropes of cum shoot into me, sending me over the edge into ecstasy. With every spurt, an intense wave of pleasure travels throughout my entire body. Time seems to stop. I can see stars.

As you pull your cock from my ass, it's like uncorking a bottle; your cum oozes out of me in globs. Without missing a beat, I reach down and collect it with my fingers and bring it to my mouth. I want to taste Daddy.

"That's a good girl, Dylan. You've made Daddy very happy tonight." You roll onto the bed beside me.

I lay with cum covered lips, still enjoying your sweet icing on my tongue as I stare up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what just happened.

I feel, changed, somehow, awakened to a whole new world of possibilities.

Suddenly it seems a bit ridiculous to travel 9+ hours by plane across the world just to lay on a beach with my tits out, when I could go to heaven - in ecstasy - instead, wearing nothing at all.

I smile to myself. Ibiza can wait. The only place I want to go now is home to my Daddy.

The End.