A random encounter in a hotel proves more than expected.
"What would you say to a glass of wine, lonely lady?"
I sighed as I looked up from my book to see a stereotypical salesman standing in front of my table, a smug smile on his face. I’d had a few approaches as I sat there but none quite as sleazy as this one, and I couldn’t help the sarcasm rising in my answer.
"Erm… feck off, glass?"
The man looked astonished and beat a hasty retreat, not understanding the humour in my flippant response, as once again I reflected on how I’d ended up sitting at that bar. My consultancy work involves significant travel, but ordinarily I would only spend one or two nights in a hotel. I’d been seconded onto a project that I really didn’t want to be a part of, and it meant living away for just over a month.
I was staying in a bland chain hotel, feeling bored and frustrated, and I realised the salesman, while sleazy, may have had a point: maybe I was lonely. I am normally very sociable, out with friends all the time, and had been living in that hotel, eating in that same damned restaurant, sitting reading in that same bloody bar all alone for almost a week. I am not particularly attractive but the hotel was full of commercial travellers who all tend to be men, so I stood out as a solitary female in a bar that was only one step away from being a meat market. I sighed again, shook off my reverie and returned to my book, only to have another sales rep approach.
"I don’t think he was a Father Ted fan. I am. I’m Stuart"
Before I had looked up from my book he had placed a drink in front of me and had sat down. I looked at the drink, a whisky sour, the unfashionable, slightly kitsch drink I’d been ordering all week, and then I lifted my head to look at the man who had joined me.
He was a man I had noticed before (which explained how he knew what I drank; I'd had to explain the drink to several bar staff since I'd been there), and I couldn’t help smiling as he extended his hand across the table to shake mine. His hand was huge, warm and dry, and although I’ve never been dainty my hand seemed tiny by comparison.
"Pleased to meet you Stuart; I’m Angela. Thankyou for the drink". Stuart was leaning back in his chair, a relaxed smile crinkling the crows feet at the corners of his eyes. He was extremely tall and was always dressed more casually than the suits who normally sat in the bar, but when I’d seen him before what I’d noticed about him was his grace, the way he moved, the impression of stillness in him. There was a confidence that was almost arrogance about him, and I had planned to return to my book when he reached over and casually flicked the cover to see what I was reading: Generation Kill by Evan Wright.
"Interesting… did you read the original articles he published?".
His voice was low and slightly rough, and I had to lean forward slightly to catch what he was saying. I responded and we started chatting about books we’d read, films we’d seen, places we’d been. I was almost disappointed when the waitress came to tell me my table was ready, and as I stood I heard myself invite Stuart to join me.
As we walked into the restaurant we attracted a few glances from the staff who had seen me keeping myself cut off from everyone for the week I’d been there. I blushed, slightly embarrassed at what they would think, but was quickly distracted when we ordered and started chatting again.
I like to think I am fairly intelligent, but Stuart could match me. I could see that he was controlling the conversation, but it was quite subtle and he was so witty and entertaining that I didn’t mind too much. We split a bottle of wine with the meal and I found myself opening up more than normal with both the wine and the pleasure of the unexpected company.
After we finished the meal we continued to chat and to laugh, and I didn’t notice the time passing until I looked up to find we were the only people left in the restaurant. Stuart offered to walk me back to the hotel, which made me laugh again as it was about five steps away. His room was on the ground floor where mine was on the first, and as we approached his room he leaned down and gently kissed me.
It doesn’t sound like much... just a kiss, but I could feel my body’s hungry response. The kiss deepened and he held my face in his hands as he kissed me, gently licking the inside of my lips, feeling my teeth with the tip of his tongue, nipping at my lips with his teeth, before stepping back and inviting me into his room. I astonished myself by accepting, knowing even as I stepped through the door that we'd have sex.
As he closed the door behind me he took off my top, and bent his head to nuzzle at the top of my breasts in my bra, his slight stubble scratching the soft skin. He unfastened my sensible black trousers and let them fall to the floor, before falling to his knees, leaning in and breathing the scent of my sex, smelling my obvious arousal. As he sat back on his heels he looked up at me with a smile of pure satisfaction, knowing how aroused I was and enjoying the power he had over my body.
He tugged my cotton knickers down and lifted my feet out of the mess of clothing, positioning them so my thighs were slightly parted. He then took the middle finger of his right hand and slowly, gently parted my folds, running the finger along the whole length of my cleft. Lifting the wet finger to his nose he inhaled deeply, before licking my juices off the tip, murmuring "so wet… so hot for me".
I had been immobile, my mind completely blank except for the sensations of his hands on me, but now I became embarrassed that he would know how aroused I was. I could feel the heat rise in my face as I lowered my head, trying to hide from his gaze. Seeing this, Stuart stood up and kissed me again, running his hands down my back to my bum, pulling me against him before letting me go and stepping back.
He pushed me back so I was sitting on the edge of the bed, then reached around to undo my bra, letting my breasts fall, the cool air making the skin tighten and the nipples pucker into hardness. He ran his hands up my back, across my shoulders and my collar-bone before he ran them around my breasts, cupping and lifting them. He knelt between my legs and put his mouth first to one nipple, then the other. As he moved between breasts the cool air and the intoxication of my arousal made me shiver, which made him smile in satisfaction once again.
He pushed my shoulders back onto the bed, and I expected to feel his hot breath between my thighs. Instead he ground the palm of his hand over my mound, rubbing my clit. The exquisite sensation made me moan aloud with pleasure even as I blushed at my own wantonness. He pushed first one and then two fingers into me, hooking the fingertips so they brushed my most sensitive spots, making me writhe. I felt myself grow ever more wet, the velvet of my skin so sensitive under his big hands.
All this time I was lying naked on the bed while he was fully clothed, making me feel exposed, open and vulnerable. As he stood up to take his clothes off he told me to move back on the bed, lie on it properly. His voice was husky, hoarse with need, and this was the first sign I’d had that he was feeling the heat. In the dim light of the bedside lamp I could see the darkness of his hair, the thick matting of chest hair narrowing into a thin line of hair leading from his navel to his groin.
As clichéd as it is, I couldn’t help gasping when I saw his cock for the first time. He had been so leisurely, so unhurried, that I assumed he wasn’t as turned-on as I was. The sight of his large cock, veins in sharp relief, balls pulled up tight, head swollen and purple with precum already visible round the tip, took my breath away.
He moved up the bed in his graceful way until he was resting between my legs, hands either side of my head as he kissed my breasts. I reached down to touch his wetness and he laughed, saying "no…". He held my hands and moved them above my head, holding my body taut as he kissed my breasts, rocking his hips against me until I was moving back against him.
He then put both my wrists into one hand, moving the other one down my body to rub my hot, slick lips, opening me ready for him, then positioning his blunt head at my entrance and slowly, so slowly, sliding home. It had been such a long time since I had felt full, I moved under him and ground my hips to feel his length press against me in all directions.
He leaned down and kissed me deeply, thrusting his tongue into my mouth as he was thrusting his cock into my core. He was thrusting hard and fast when he suddenly slowed down, pulling his body off mine so I could see his cock slipping out of me, thickly coated in my juices, glistening and looking painfully swollen. "See what you do to me", he whispered as he pushed back into me, swinging his hips and pounding into me, savage in his excitement.
I could feel my pleasure build, the sensation growing in the pit of my stomach, and I jolted when he started groaning at me. "That’s it baby, feel it, feel me… let yourself go, let me see you come for me… give your pleasure to me… let me feel you come on my cock…". I couldn’t hold back and the sensation rushed over me like the rush of air in an explosion, leaving me shaking, panting and moaning as he sped up and thrust roughly into me.
I could feel his cock jerk as he pushed deep as he could and came, grabbing my hips and pulling me to him, trying to bury himself in my body, throwing his head back and roaring. It was sensational sex, epic sex, and the aftershocks made my body spasm for twenty minutes after we had fallen apart.
As we recovered he moved up the bed and pressed his shaft to my mouth. "Lick it clean for me, taste how sweet you are". I pushed my tongue out and tentatively touched his wet cock with the tip of it. To my surprise it tasted lovely, fresh and warm, somehow reminiscent of the ocean. I licked more firmly, trying to capture all of my juices on my tongue, before taking his head into my mouth, running my tongue over it.
Stuart moaned and pushed his hands into my hair, gently humping against my mouth as I sucked on his cock. I felt it start to twitch as it slowly began to harden, and he started to laugh. "Oh god, baby you’re so good at this. Just keep doing that babe, don’t stop". I had no intention of stopping, I was enjoying it far too much, and I felt the beginning of my arousal stir deep within me once more. As his cock hardened his grip on my head grew tighter, his movements grew rougher, until he was trying to bury the entire length of his thick shaft in my mouth. As I gagged around it he pulled out and moved me onto my stomach, pulling my hips off the bed so I was crouched on my knees, resting my weight on my elbows.
"Don’t move babe, stay exactly where you are"
I felt momentarily embarrassed that I would let him position me like some sort of doll. I considered getting up, but my arousal was evident by my ragged breathing and I wanted to see what this infuriatingly self-assured, incredibly erotic man would do next. I could feel my juices spilling onto my thighs and couldn’t help moving my shoulders to drag my sensitive, swollen nipples across the bed to feel the sensation of the fabric moving against them. As I let out a moan Stuart looked up from whatever he was doing and noticed me moving. He stepped back to the bed and spanked my bum hard, making me yell at the unexpected pain, then whimper as the pain faded to a warmth that was as arousing as it was stinging.
"I thought I told you not to move? Let’s see what we can do about that".
I heard him rummage around, felt his frustration rise as he was unable to find what he was looking for. Eventually he went into the bathroom and I heard satisfaction in his laugh as he stepped back into the bedroom, the belt of the towelling robe in his hands. He stepped to the bed and grabbed my wrists, tying them together behind my back and working the fabric up my arms to tie them again just above my elbows. My face was on a pillow and I felt my nervousness start to rise as I realised how helpless I actually was.
He came to stand behind me again and pressed his face into my wetness, licking furiously at my juices before moving up to my bum. I felt him press his lips to my arse before pushing the tip of his tongue into me, holding my cheeks apart with his hands. I was more embarrassed than I could believe to have a stranger's tongue in my arse, and the reality of my vulnerable position suddenly became clear to me. I began to struggle ineffectually against the ties, unable to speak for the mortifying realisation of how stupid I'd been to allow myself to get into this situation.
Feeling my distress rise Stuart moved up to lean over me, gently stroking my skin. "It’s OK babe, I won’t hurt you. Just relax and enjoy yourself. If you tell me to stop I’ll stop, OK?".
I tried to relax as he continued to tongue at my arse, then he pushed a finger into me. It felt so invasive, but wasn’t as painful as I’d thought it would be. He knelt behind me on the bed and slowly pushed his cock back into my wet pussy before pushing his thumb into my arse. I felt so full I couldn’t help but move back against him, humping myself against him. As he started picking up speed he reached his free arm around to grab my breasts, holding my upper body off the bed in his arm, jerking me back and forth against his thrusts.
He let me go and my shoulders fell back onto the bed. He leaned across me, his thumb still in my arse, his cock buried deep inside me, and whispered in my ear that I wasn't to come until I'd begged for it and he'd given me permission. I found the whole thing so incredibly erotic, the insidious whispering of his mouth next to my ear, the idea of having to say the words, let alone potentially having the request denied. I was shaking and more desperate to come than I can ever remember, but each time I begged him to let me orgasm he said no.
When I couldn't hold it any more he pulled out, untied my arms and turned me onto my back, lying at my side and running his hand over my body as I cooled down. I was dying to rub my clit and give myself an orgasm, but wanted to follow his wishes more than I wanted to pleasure myself. Once he felt I'd cooled down enough he started again, this time lying on top of me so he could look into my face and watch me desperately trying not to come before he allowed it. He had spread my legs wide and was dragging his shaft across my clit with every stroke, his hands playing with my nipples, his weight pinning me to the bed.
He bent his head down and I thought he would kiss me, but as I parted my lips he whispered into my mouth "you’re such a good girl, such a hot fuck, aren’t you? Do you want to come? Do you need it? Are you desperate yet?". I started moaning and knew I couldn't hold it much more. I started begging, a stream of incomprehensible nonsense, almost crying, desperate with need. I was shaking by the time I heard the welcome words "yes, come for me now, let me feel you come on my cock", and as he spoke it was as though his words created the orgasm; I've never felt anything quite like it.
I was embarrassed at the intensity of my orgasm, the grunts that were coming from me as I hunched under him. I wrapped my legs around him and tried to drag him even further into me as the friction of his cock against my sensitive clit drove me even higher, until I was shouting in pleasure. As my cunt spasmed around him Stuart pushed himself onto his knees and started to pound into me hard and fast, before pulling out and wrapping his hand round his cock, his face screwed up in ecstasy. He started to grunt as his hips moved against his hand and he started to come, spraying jet after jet of his come onto my stomach, my breasts and my face, the warmth of it startling against my skin.
Panting, he fell to the side of me and looked at me, lying spread-eagled, covered in a sheen of sweat and his come, still breathing heavily and twitching. Tenderly he kissed my forehead, gently smoothing the damp tendrils of hair back from my face.
"So, how long are you based here for? I’ve got another two weeks yet…"