This story is a work of fiction and a figment of my sexual imagination. However if you are under 18 or offended by frank, open, graphic sexuality of all adult types then please do not read it.
If you are not offended please enjoy.
*
A business trip.
A long journey.
A stressful meeting.
A hotel.
A hotel bar.
I sat there mulling over the drink in my hand and replaying the day in my memory, a rum and coke quelling memories of many, stressful discussions. Sometimes deep in thought, sometimes asking for another drink. Just me and the barman. Only us in the large, empty, quiet hotel bar lounge. Or so I thought.
I hadn't noticed her previously. Or had she just come in? Standing at the end of the bar, at the corner. Maybe I had been so deep in thought or just deep in drink.
She caught my eye as I glanced at her and she smiled. A small smile but a still a smile. She was tidy. And smart looking. A business type formally dressed. White, 5 foot 8 inches (I guessed), shoulder length dark brown hair, wide eyes, a nose, and a mouth made for kissing; or was it sucking. She wore a dark grey business jacket and a white blouse underneath mostly hidden by the jacket. What the jacket didn't hide was the two large mounds. A nice hand full, indeed a nice mouthful. What else below the waist? I couldn't tell as she was standing around the corner of the bar. She ordered her drink, Vodka and orange, a double, and had her first drink: a long one. Then she settled on the barstool.
"It's quiet in here tonight," she offered. Bland, very bland but a cool icebreaker starter. I agreed. The barman was busy elsewhere.
Our standard of conversation progressed from there into more meaningful subjects. Being English we talked about the weather, and then moved onto life and the universe. And then onto other things. But still small talk. For 20 minutes or so. Sipping my drink.
And then she said it. "Do you
cum
here often?" The emphasis was on the '
cum'
and the way she said it the word was definitely spelt 'c-u-m' not 'c-o-m-e'!! and the glint in her eyes and the smirk on her lips gave the clue that she knew what she was asking.
I flushed and stammered "I cum as often as I can," Did she know I meant 'c-u-m'?
I had another drink of the rum and coke in front of me.
She asked me what I usually drink. "Beer or shorts; depending on my mood. Shorts tonight but normally beer. But too many pints keep me up all night pissing," I replied, smiling.
"MMmmmm," she mused "I can think of better things to do with your cock all night than holding it whilst pissing," My prick jumped at the obvious innuendo and the feeling of a hardening prick was unmistakable.
I smiled and noticed she had a glint in her eyes. She smiled as she finished her drink.
"Another?" I asked her.
"Thanks," she gratefully replied.
The barman returned and I ordered doubles all round. Same again. He served them and I paid.
"So it's shorts tonight?" she responded. "What does that mean?"
"A heavy, stressful day. Not a winner: not one of my best."
"And you?" I asked in retaliation. "Your potion of relaxation? Always Vodka and orange?"
"Not always. I love cocktails. However less of the tails and more of the ..." she let the sentence tail off but the meaning was clear. My cock reached full strength and hardness and the first seep of pre-cum escaped from the slit. My hard cock was now making me uncomfortable sitting on my bar stool. I slipped my hand down my trousers trying to make my tackle more comfortable, hoping she wouldn't notice. But she did and smiled.
"A Slow Screw here, a Slow Screw there, maybe even Sex on the Beach," she took a sip from her glass. "I wonder if they do a Sex in a Hotel Bedroom here?"
I nearly choked on my drink and a stream of pre-cum fluid flowed from my cock end wetting my slips.
I suggested we move from the uncomfortable bar stools to the lounge easy chairs. She agreed and stood up and moved around the bar and set off towards the chairs. My cock hardened even more when I saw she was wearing a grey business skirt to match her jacket but to say it was tight and short would be an understatement. It was a painted-on belt. And she wore stockings or tights. And high heels, black patent shoes. She had style. As she walked over to the chairs the tightness of the skirt accentuated her arse and the wiggle of the walk gave me the feeling that I was about to cum in my briefs!
The armchairs were of the deep cushion type and she placed the drink on the table in front of her, took off her jacket and sat down. I chose a chair opposite and sat down. Now I knew she wore stockings. Mmmm.
A looker she was but I had problems knowing where to look. Nice face (beautiful in fact), nice tits not hidden by any sort of bra, nice legs shown off by the stockings that disappeared into the bare cleft now staring at me. Nice pussy not hidden by any knickers... and not hidden by any hair! Mmmm. I was about to cum. Oh God was I about to cum. Think football I thought; think football!!! It was obvious that she knew her pussy was on show and she was watching me squirm. I swallowed hard; three, four, five times and then I realised she was talking to me and asking me a question.
"Is it hard?" she asked. My God was it not and still on the verge of cumming. What was I suppose to say.
"Er em er...y..." I stammered. She saw, and heard, my discomfort at this.
"The question I meant. The other is obvious." she clarified now looking at my crotch and mentally undressing me so that my cock sprang out. My balls were tingling. If she was mentally undressing me she would see even more pre-cum, leaking from my slit atop the rock hard prick.
So we talked and chatted away and I stared at the moist, glistening pink pussy lips so lovingly on show just for me. But sometimes, being a gentleman, I looked away and stared at her tits. And occasionally at her eyes.
As time developed and more shorts passed our lips, we relaxed into a frame of mind that meant we were going to fuck later, if not sooner. I had to go for a piss and it was difficult getting the flow from my cock with it being so hard. I noticed when I returned that she had loosened her blouse so that her magnificent tits were on show and ready to be devoured. I then realised that I hadn't asked her what her job was.
"I run my own business," she replied after the question had been asked. "It's an aromatherapy business full of nice smells and nice effects. I do the full range: incense sticks, candles, oils and potions. To heal, smooth, relax or harden."
"Harden?"
"Yeah, if needed. I'm busy trying to convince people of my new lotion that hardens a flagging cock and can make a man cum four times in thirty minutes, if he wants to, all with a full, squirting, warm load of cum. Four times in an hour if foreplay and fun come into it."
I nearly choked upon my short.
"Mmmm. Interesting...very interesting. Does this work on
anybody