It was a spring evening. Friday night, the workweek was over. We needed a weekend away from the house. New Orleans was our go-to getaway. Only a hundred miles from the ranch in Amite county, we hit the road.
Krysta had been on the phone for several minutes trying to get reservations. After several unsuccessful attempts, she landed one at The Old No. 77 Hotel and Chandlery. In the heart of down town and in the shadow of the Super Dome (almost) it was close to everything.
Krysta, my wife, read the history of the hotel to me. It took its name from the original street address, Seventy-seven Tchoupitoulas Street. Originally a coffee warehouse built in eighteen fifty four, it was later purchased by E. J. Hart and Company. The new owner used it as a chandlery, that stored and sold sailing goods such as canvas sails and rope and such.
We learned that it was remodeled into a hotel in twenty fifteen. At first glance, I judged the room at five stars. The character of the building was preserved in the floors that seemed to slant a couple inches out of level, and the painted masonry walls that featured bricked in arches.
The sprinkler system was exposed. A four inch cast iron pipe went from floor to ceiling. Smaller pipes tee’d off horizontally through walls into other rooms. The floors squeaked under the carpet, but that was part of the personality of the place.
After checking in and grabbing a shower, we were ready to eat. The best steak in town was just down the street. A short, two block walk to Chop House and we had a table. We ate in the atmosphere of the low rumble of conversations and clinking of glasses and utensils.
The walk back to the hotel was brisk. Lightening and thunder, misty rain and a lively breeze warned of an eminent storm. We ducked into the hotel just as the bottom fell out. There was a crowd in the bar. The storm probably had most of the guests playing it close to the shelter of the hotel.
We ordered margaritas and found a small table in the corner. Dimly lit and quiet, the bar was another reminder of days gone by. Except for the lack of smoke. Remember when you could smoke in a bar?
None of the customers were locals. You could tell. There were two middle aged guys with Bama hats on. Fuckers should have known better. This was Tiger country. Mostly younger guys and girls in groups of two or four or more.
I liked to watch people. Krysta didn’t mind. After all, she did it too.
There was a young couple, just above legal drinking age, at a table near us. He looked to be twenty four or so. She looked just a year or two younger. Blond and tanned, she filled out her little black dress nicely.
He wore khakis and a polo. Black hair and equally tanned. I guessed that they were from Florida.
“You guys on a honeymoon?” I asked.
She looked at the guy with an embarrassed smile, “No. We just met.”
We all laughed and I offered to buy the next round. After introducing ourselves, we chatted about the weather and work. Nothing heavy, just being friendly. After catching my wandering eye, with a shy smile pulled the hem of her dress, but I had already been treated to a glimpse of her red panties.
After an hour or so we decided to retire to our room. It had been a long drive and I was tired. Waving as we left, I took my wife’s hand in mine and walked to the elevators.
It was a short ride to the second floor and a short walk to room two twenty. Once behind the locked door, we stripped and enjoyed the large shower together. I helped Krysta wash her back and took liberties by letting my fingers explore.
Without protest, Krysta turned and kissed me. My cock responded. She wrapped her fingers around my hardening shaft and began to stroke it slowly. “Are you thinking about her?” she whispered.
“Who?”
“The little blond at the lounge,” Krysta smiled.
“She was sexy,” I answered, “But…”
“It’s okay,” my wife assured, “I don’t blame you.” With a squeeze of my cock, she pulled me to her, kissing me deeply.
I pushed her, maybe a little too violently against the shower wall and squeezed her beautiful breasts with both hands. She liked it rough so I put one hand on her throat and pushed her tightly to the wall. My cock was hard and throbbing, pinned between our bodies as we continued the kiss.
Krysta pushed her hand between our wet bodies and took my shaft in her fingers. Her other arm over my shoulder as she guided my sex to hers. I felt the wet heat of her pussy envelope my cocks head. Her other arm joined the first on my shoulders and she lifted her knees, wrapping her legs around my waist.
Our tongues wrestled as my cock sunk deep into her tightness. She pulled me close with her legs and whispered into my ear, “Fuck me, baby.”
The stress and fatigue of a long day faded into the shadow of my lust. I had but one desire and that was to fuck. My movements were not refined. Neither smooth nor caring, I fucked her like an animal. Bucking and grinding, we moaned and grunted. My feet slipped on the wet tiles but I kept upright by sheer luck and will.
“Oh, yes,” Krysta moaned, “I’m gonna come.”
Her cries urged me on. Thrusting hard and fast, I felt my balls begin to churn and boil. Kristen dropped her face to my shoulder and moaned low and urgently. Her sex contracted on my shaft, pulling my seed from the depths of my sex.
Grunting with each thrust, I felt her body convulse. She trembled and held tightly to my body. My knees all but buckled as my cum shot into her womb. I plunged deep and held tight, emptying my seed into her sex.
Semen and water dripped from my wife’s ass as we recovered from our mutual orgasms. She released her hold on my hips with her legs and stood in front of me. A smile and a pecking kiss was her way of saying thanks.
After rinsing the evidence of sex from our bodies, we stepped from the shower and dried. I fell on the bed, naked and exhausted.Krysten slid under the sheets beside me, also naked.
Startled from a sound sleep by a thud against the wall and loud laughter, I sat up. A glance at the clock on the nightstand told me that it was eighteen minutes past three in the fucking morning. Some people just didn’t respect everyone else’s quiet time.
The laughter continued in the hallway along with moans muffled by the brick wall. I decided to be an asshole and call the front desk. After several rings and no answer, I gave up.
Quickly to my feet, I took the hotel robe from its hook and wrapped it around my naked body. Checking the peephole, I saw no one, so I eased the door open. The laughter had disappeared and was replaced by the sound of grunts and moans. Easing to the corner of the old hallway, I ventured a peak.
It was the same young couple from the bar. The man had the blond pinned to the wall, his hands holding hers to the wall above her head. They were locked in a kiss so deep that they didn’t notice me. I could see that her eyes were closed, enjoying the moment.
His knee pushed up between her legs as their tongues danced. I watched her grind her sex on his leg. I watched his hands, as they released hers, travel slowly and thoroughly down her tight young body, as if her were a cop searching her for contraband.
Her hands on his broad shoulders as they continued their passionate kiss. His search complete, but not satisfied, he tugged the hem of her tight little black dress upward, revealing those tiny red panties. They were so small, just covering the mound of her sex.
He continued pulling her dress up to her waist. Wasting no time, she wiggled her hips as he pulled her panties down. As he pushed them past her knees, she raised one leg to step out of them. He pushed her feet apart with one of his.
Already on his knees, he drove his tongue deep into her pussy. Her hands cupped the top of his head, her panties still around her left ankle. Her moans were soft but audible hissed breaths of gasped air. “Oh, yes,” she whispered.
He continued eating her young pussy as I watched. My cock began to throb and I realized that I was erect. Without a thought, I began stroking my hard cock as I watched the young couple, just twenty feet from me. I watched her begin to shudder in orgasm as she tried to hold back her scream of pleasure.
He stood as her orgasm faded and resumed kissing her. He started fumbling with his zipper, trying to release his cock. She stood, eyes open now, watching him, her legs still apart and leaning on the wall. I could see the thin strip of pubic hair above the wet slit of her pussy. I could see the glistening wetness on her thighs.
The young man finally freed his thick cock from his pants, holding it in his palm. The girl smiled when she saw the size of his manhood. He pressed the bulbous head of his hard dick into her slit, pushing the length deep into her.
Her eyes closed again while she moaned her approval. She lifted one leg, wrapping it around his hip when he began to slowly stroke in and out of her. My hand pumping harder on my own cock while I watched them.
A jolt of fear shot though me when I noticed her eyes open and watching me. Timidly, I covered my arousal. She smiled over his shoulder at me as he continued fucking her. Losing any inhibition, I took my member in hand again, stroking slowly as she watched.
Her moans became more insistent with each thrust of his cock. She was totally in the moment with her new acquaintance but her eyes never left mine. I had never done anything like this. Well, unless you count that bus trip with the high school cheerleaders and a few of my football team mates. That was another story altogether.
I gripped my shaft tighter and stroked faster. Getting close to my own orgasm, I tried to be quiet. The young man’s efforts grew intense. I could tell he was close also. The blond wrapped her legs around his waist as he fucked her on the wall. His trousers had fallen around his ankles.
No longer able to contain my lust, I felt the first emission of semen leap from my loins in a long white rope of liquid, spattering the old wall. The young man convulsed moments later, nearly driving his blond lover through the wall. Her expression was raptured, watching my cum fly from my dick, and feeling his flood her sex.
Caught in the throes of my fading climax, I tried to come to my senses. Ducking behind the corner, I moved back to the door. I heard them dressing as I took hold of the knob, realizing that I had not thought to pick up the keycard, “Damn.”
