Walking up the wide carpeted staircase to his first floor bedroom Adrian was pleased that his room was in the annex rather than in the adjacent anonymous identikit modern hotel. The annex must originally have been a private house; Edwardian probably. Over the years it had been extended and modified in a rather ad hoc idiosyncratic sort of manner giving the building a certain air of charm and mystery. A corridor off the first floor landing revealed a suite of rooms, all with their doors wide open to indicate their availability. He was apparently the only guest in this part of the hotel. So much the better, he thought, he really needed time on his own.
The most striking feature of his room was an enormous gilt framed mirror which was mounted on the wall facing the bed. The mirror was very old and smoky black in some areas where the silvering had decayed. It must have been part of the original furnishing of the house. What indiscretions and betrayals that ancient mirror must have witnessed; what secret shameful histories were contained in the photons that had penetrated its dark interior.
The adjacent bathroom was equally antique with a large cast iron bath that was big enough for two. He recalled on how much he and Julia used to enjoy bathing together how delightful it had been to fondle slippery soapy breasts and to float together in intimate languorous foreplay. Where had it all gone wrong?
There had been other women of course but after twenty-five years of marriage Julia was worldly-wise enough to know that men weren't only in search of love but also sometimes just wanted a guilt free fuck with no strings attached. The truth was that they had become bored with each other's company; bored with their conversation; bored with their relations; bored with their predictable lives; bored with their careers and bored above all with their lovemaking. There are after all only a limited number of ways that a couple can perform the sexual act and they had tried them all many times over.
He began to idly compute approximately how many times they had made love together during their courtship and twenty-five year marriage. They had been insatiable in the early days; five or six times a week which had gradually dwindled to two or three times.
Holidays always provoked a reawakening of desire. It had always been particularly stimulating when Julia sunbathed topless beside a hotel pool or on a beach. The obvious interest of other men in Julia's body always aroused them both. It became a form of foreplay which was invariably consummated when they returned to their room before going down to dinner. Other men could ogle Julia all they liked but he was the one who had her frequently and vigorously while they were on holiday.
So, at a conservative estimate, they had sex four times a week for twenty-six years; 5200 times. He had presented her with his sexual fluid at least 5000 times; up her vagina, in her mouth, between her breasts, in her hand and occasionally up her backside. They had tried all the positions; lying, standing, sitting and all the locations; the car; the garden, on beaches, in forests, in hotel lounges and corridors, up against walls in back-alleys, once in a bunker on a golf course. He tried to imagine the total volume of semen ejaculated from his cock over the span of their life together; it can't have been far short of fifty litres, enough to fill the petrol tank of a large motor car. A surreal image flashed into his mind of Julia's body enveloped in his semen.
Adrian roused himself from his reverie and unpacked his suitcase and placed his reading matter on the table beside the king size double bed. Glancing at the literature provided by the hotel he realised he had been accommodated in the bridal suite but unfortunately he had no female companion. However, he did notice that the hotel had an erotic film channel which was accessible for an additional charge. Presumably the designated occupants of the bridal suite would not require such diversions but Adrian thought that he might. Actually Arthur Meredith, one of the more voyeuristic members of the hotel staff, had installed secret video cameras in strategic positions in the suite so that he too could enjoy his own erotic diversions viewing the amorous activities of the occupants whoever they were.
It was getting late when Adrian descended to the dining room in the main hotel. There were only a handful of other guests as it was after nine o'clock. A pianist was playing elegant standards by Cole Porter and George Gershwin and playing them well enough for Arian to note for future reference that it was the Stan Alderson Trio. He ordered his meal and asked to speak to the wine waiter.
A few moments later a magnificent blond beauty wriggled her way towards his table. It would have been churlish to ignore her; she was putting on a performance like a burlesque dancer. It was sexy and vulgar and over the top and he loved it. He registered her swinging hips and magnificent breasts topped off with platinum blonde hair. By the time she reached his table he was well on the way to mentally undressing her. He ordered his wine and when she leant over the table to rearranged the glassware he was treated to a grandstand view of her magnificent breasts and noted that she had 'ME' tattooed on one and 'JANE' tattooed on the other. As she languorously strolled back towards the bar swinging her sexy rear his casual erotic fantasy had reached the fucking stage.
A few tables away he noticed a woman sitting alone. She was in her late thirties, slim and attractive with dark hair dressed in a dark business suit and wearing black stockings. Adrian let his mind dwell pleasurably on the seductive allure of a woman in a business suit wearing stockings and suspenders; an extraordinarily potent combination of stern rectitude and erotic promise. She got up to leave, smiling as she strolled past his table. Gentle tremors beneath her blouse discretely announced the presence of beautiful firm breasts. As she retreated he had a vision of shapely hips and a nicely rounded rear; an alternative take on man's eternal quest for sexual paradise, not vulgar and brash but subtle and understated; all part of the endless enigma of sexual attraction. Why was it that a man's basic instinct to transfer his sperm into a woman's body was so complicated and contradictory?
Back in his room he had a bath and afterwards settled down to watch a film on TV. It was a 1940s film noir with a beautiful femme fatale offering tantalizing glimpses of paradise while leading a man to his inevitable doom. The soporific effect of wine and a warm bath soon caused him to doze off to sleep. Waking later he found the film had finished. He turned off the lights and settled down for the night.
Immediately, he felt alert and sensitive to the ambience of his bedroom. In the darkness he gradually became aware of tiny shimmering lights emanating from the gilded mirror. Intrigued, he got out of bed and fumbled his way towards it. Looking into the mirror he was astonished to see the reflection of a woman sitting on his bed in her underwear adjusting her stockings. He hurried towards the door and switched on the ceiling light. There was no one there.
He was wide awake now, his loins stirred by the erotic image in the mirror. Switching on the television again he selected the erotic film channel and signified his agreement to being charged a supplement. The film was the usual pornographic confection of poor acting, absurd plot and ridiculous dialogue followed shortly, for no very obvious reason, by unrealistically long bouts of sexual intercourse with frequent close-ups of cocks pumping in and out of mouths, cunts and anuses and culminating with the 'money shot' image of the man firing his ejaculation into his grateful partners mouth. None of it was particularly elegant, erotic or beautiful but still stimulating enough to ensure that he now had a strong erection. He stepped out of bed and walked naked into the bathroom. With an expertise based on many years of practice, he lubricated his hands with soap and water and began to masturbate in front of the mirror.
Adrian had a strong streak of vanity and exhibitionism in his makeup; he kept his body in very good shape and was rather proud of his sexually rampant appearance. When getting up in the morning it had been his habit to perform various muscular stretching exercises naked in front of a mirror. Julia would watch him covetously from the bed sometimes remarking that he had a body like a Greek statue. Such obvious sexual flattery usually brought on an erection. Even more than masturbating in front of a mirror, he had enjoyed masturbating while Julia watched him. He liked to surprise her with the range and capacity of his ejaculations.
Standing in his hotel bathroom stimulated both by the mirror image of the woman in her underwear and the pornographic film he had been watching he quickly came to a climax which he discharged in pleasurable spasms onto the bathroom fittings. After washing away the evidence of his lust he returned to his bed fully relaxed now and ready for sleep.
In the early hours of the morning he suddenly found himself wide awake again. The shimmering mirror lights had reappeared and this time he could also hear a low murmur of voices. In the mirror, the woman he had observed earlier was now in the company of a man. They were both naked and closely entwined in a passionate embrace. He watched the erotic scene, voyeuristically noting that the woman was wearing black stockings. Reluctantly he switched on the bedroom lights and examined the mirror carefully. It occurred on him that the mirror was on the party wall between adjacent bedrooms. Presumably there wasn't a wall behind the mirror. He must have been looking straight through the decaying mirror into the next room. Glad to have solved the problem he retired to sleep again but, as a precaution, he first draped a bath towel over the mirror.
After his disturbed night he was late down to breakfast the following morning. There was only one other guest remaining, the dark haired woman who bore a strong resemblance to the person he had seen in the mirror the previous night. Her male companion was nowhere to be seen. He wished her good morning.
'Having breakfast all on your own', he observed casually
An expression of annoyance flickered across the woman's face.
'Yes I am', she said tersely, and a few moments later got up and left the dining room. Adrian was puzzled and intrigued by her annoyance. Was she involved in a secret affair?
He spent a leisurely Sunday morning reading the newspapers and visiting the cathedral and adjacent Roman ruins. Strolling in the cathedral precinct he encountered the dark haired lady again. She was talking angrily to a man. Eventually she turned on her heels and walked away. The man stared after her with hatred in his eyes; evidently he was not the lover of her nocturnal liaison.
That evening Adrian went down early to have an aperitif before dinner. As he was sipping his drink the dark haired lady came into the bar and looked anxiously around. Seeing him sitting there, she paused, and then walked towards him. He stood up.
'Would you care to join me? He asked. She hesitated, looked round again and sat down.
'Thank you', she said. 'I was looking for someone I didn't want to see.'
'That's rather an odd way of putting it', he said.
She smiled weakly.
