He had told her his flight was delayed.
He wanted to see her before they met, when she was relaxed and at ease with her surroundings. So he had told her he would be there with her later, knowing she would follow her usual routine until then.
Picking a seat in the corner of the hotel bar, he could watch the clientele enter and leave at his convenience. Male and female, young and old, and all ages in between. They could have been hotel guests, leisure club users, or just there to catch up with friends over a drink or lunch. A woman briefly caught his eye, but it wasn’t her. He knew she was shorter, curvier. The dark hair falling just below the shoulders was right, though.
He heard her before he saw her – recognised her laugh from all those phone calls. She was talking to the young girl behind the bar. Something about a university course, and wishing her luck. Her voice was different in person… slightly huskier, maybe, the English accent seeming less pronounced in real life among all the others there. She wore a black vest and leggings, and her dark hair flicked in its ponytail as she moved her head. He watched her leave the bar, having purchased a bottle of water, and head downstairs towards the gym and pool area. He knew she’d spend about half an hour in the gym before swimming.
In the changing room, she looked in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. Cheeks slightly flushed already, and eyes sparkling with excitement. Only a couple more hours and they would finally meet. Hours and hours of chatting online, phone calls, shared pictures and laughter and intimacy, had finally led to this. Thousands of miles apart in the months since they had first connected, and now they would be in the same country, city, building… room. She stowed her possessions in a locker and headed for the cardio room.
The music was up-tempo and invigorating as she started the treadmill, building up her pace gradually, and setting the screen to show a beach scene through which she could imagine she was jogging. Try as she might, though, she couldn’t relax into it as normal. Thoughts of all the times they had imagined their first meeting pervaded her head. All the promises he had made, the ways he had described he would take her… and her nipples pebbled as her clit began to throb, and she could already feel her wetness seeping into the Lycra gym-wear. She upped her pace, trying to distract herself, but as a tiny bead of perspiration trailed between her breasts, all she could think about was how his tongue would feel following that same path… and further down…
The friction of the Lycra between her thighs was noticeable in a way she’d never realised, and her breath was shorter now for reasons far removed from the physical exertion. She found herself shifting her stride, aching for more pressure against her swollen clit, feeling the slipperiness created from her juices coating her labia. Trying to regain some semblance of control, she slowed the machine to a walking pace and breathed deeply, stifling a moan. Luckily the gym was quiet at this time of day, and she was the only one in there.
He watched her from the leisure club seating area as she stepped off the treadmill and walked over to the exercise bike. The lighting in the different zones was such that he could see her, but reflections from the tinted glass obscured her view, and he was confident she was unaware of his presence. As she mounted the bike and leaned forwards, he could see her close her eyes and bite her lower lip – a sure tell that she was trying not to make a sound. He smiled in satisfaction. She had told him over and over again that she was constantly wet for him, and he knew she would be thinking about what was going to happen – teasing and edging herself in anticipation. His cock throbbed in response to her nearness and need, and he reached down to adjust himself slightly.
She continued to shift on the bike saddle, pedalling slowly, and calorie-burning clearly wasn’t her priority right now. He could see from her expression she was getting closer and closer to climax, creating just the right amount of pressure on her clit as she rocked slightly on the saddle, building, and building…and the exact moment when she stopped herself. She sat up, opened her eyes, and shook her head slightly as though to clear it. For a moment it seemed she stared right at him but her eyes slid over his direction, and she swung her leg back over the saddle. He fancied he could hear her quick indrawn breath as pressure briefly resumed on her throbbing wetness when she dismounted. She seemed a little unsteady as she stood, and he smiled to himself again, turning discreetly in his seat so she wouldn’t see him as she walked past where he sat on her way back to the changing room.
She checked her phone – there was a text.
“In cab now, see you in an hour.”
“Can’t wait!” she typed back, “See you in the bar.”
“Wet?” came the immediate reply.
“Not swum yet!”
“Are. You. Wet?” he clarified deliberately.
“Yes,” she admitted. “You know I am. Always wet for you…”
“How wet?”
She knew this was her cue. Behind the curtain, in the cubicle, she slipped off her leggings and panties and brushed her fingers along her soaked, swollen slit. Up and down, up and down, before sliding her middle finger between her lips and sinking it into her aching cunt. Moaning softly, she added her index finger, then her ring finger, relishing the stretching sensation of her digits pushing against her internal walls, feeling her own heat and creaminess on her fingers.
With her other hand, she picked up her phone again.
“Three fingers,” she typed.
“No cumming.”
“No, Sir,” she confirmed.
Reluctantly sliding her fingers back out, she breathed deeply to centre herself again. Her fingers were coated in her juices and she moved them apart and together again, watching how the strands of creamy wetness glistened. Holding them in front of her, she took a photo on her phone, and pressed Send.
“Fuck,” came the response, “Stay like that for me.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Her swimsuit was a tankini – black and white flower-print top and plain black boy-short bottoms. As she slid the cups over her breasts, the stimulation over her sensitive nipples was almost unbearable. Pulling the straps up over her shoulders, she shuddered, unsure how she was going to make it through the next hour without climaxing through sheer anticipation of what was to come. The crotch of the shorts was instantly sodden with her wetness, and the brush of the fabric against her swollen pussy lips was torture.
He could see how close she was to losing control as she walked from the changing room to the poolside. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks pink, and her gait somehow controlled but awkward, as though she were trying to avoid any friction in sensitive areas. She held her towel in front of her breasts to conceal her stiffened nipples, and although it may not have been apparent to any innocent bystander, he knew her well enough to realise exactly how much willpower she was exerting. He watched through the viewing window as she dropped her towel on a sun-lounger and walked down the tiled steps into the turquoise-tinted water. Her nipples were clearly visible through the tankini top and he admired the full curves of her breasts and flare of her hips through the tight fabric. The coolness of the water must have helped somewhat as her face and posture became more relaxed, the deeper she sank. She crouched in the shallow end so the water covered her shoulders, and she smiled in relief. When she stood again and moved slowly into the deeper water, the water streamed over her shoulders, arms and breasts. He watched it trickle and glide over her smooth, lightly tanned skin, glistening in the sunlight through the glass roof, and felt his cock throb again in response. He had edged himself for a week, waiting for today, and the thought of finally filling her, stretching her with his length and thickness, feeling her clench and pulse around him until he filled her with his hot seed, was almost unbearably intoxicating.
Luckily the conservatory-style of the indoor pool-house made it bright enough for him to conceivably wear a baseball cap covering his short hair and shielding his face, and mirrored sunglasses in there. Between that and his beard, little face was visible. Having changed into trunks, he quickly walked past the edge of the pool. There were only two other people in the pool, both elderly ladies who were sitting and chatting on the steps. This time it was he who held a towel to conceal hardness, and he settled himself on a corner sun-lounger near the hot tub. From there he could watch her moving through the water, glimpses of flesh teasing him through the cerulean refractions. He wondered which length she was on, seeing her lips move as she counted, but unable to work out what she was saying. Up and down, turning and gliding, she seemed lost in the flow of the waves, creating her own wake. The two ladies left, and he alternated between watching her and looking out into the hotel gardens, which were bright with flowers and cosy with various seating arrangements. He imagined fucking her on one of the outdoor sofas, her straddling him and him holding her hips so he could thrust into her, hard, over and over again until she cried out in climax, and he released himself inside her. His cock was rock-hard now, and he knew he couldn’t wait much longer before letting her know he was there.
A splashing sound alerted him that she was walking back up the steps and out of the pool and heading towards the hot tub. Although his lounger was near it, the entrance to the spa area was to the other side of the glass fence, so again, he managed to avoid her gaze.
She moaned audibly as she held the smooth metal rail and stepped into the hot, steamy, swirling, bubbles. The cool water of the pool had marginally helped her to take the edge off her need, but she knew the swirling currents in the hot tub would bring her right back to the edge. However, a glance at the poolside clock showed her forty minutes of the promised remaining hour of waiting had already elapsed, so she decided to take the chance. She moved around the stone basin of the sunken tub until she reached her favourite position. There was a jet in there that angled just right on her lower back… and another one that stimulated her clit perfectly. She spread her legs in front of her, leaned back against the contoured support, and sighed in bliss. The jets soothed her tension, brought on by the excitement of what was to come, but also continued to build her need again. She shifted so that the water pulsed directly on her clit, and closed her eyes, imagining it was his tongue. He had told her how he would lick and flick her clit, suck it and nibble it, until it was so sore and sensitive that the slightest touch or breath of air would push her over the edge. She teased herself, playing his words over and over again in her mind, tormenting herself with the knowledge that this moment was so close. The pressure on her clit was perfect, and she held herself totally still, poised on the edge of the abyss. This was what he did to her, holding her there, exquisitely balanced, edging and edging and edging until she could take no more and his order to cum for him tumbled her over the precipice, into orgasmic ecstasy.
Silently, he ascended from the sun-lounger and walked around the edge of the spa area and up to the side of the hot tub. She was obviously flushed and near climax, moaning faintly on each exhale, and perceptibly rocking her hips. Her eyes were closed and her breasts quickly rose and fell at the water’s surface, erect nipples only concealed by bubbles and steam. Her arms were outstretched and her hands gripped the tiled rim of the spa pool. She was audibly panting now, oblivious to her surroundings, lost in sensation and need. He crouched down behind her and put his lips to her ear.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum hard for me now. You can do it. You can cum for me.”
Instantly, her lips parted and she moaned deeply, her hips rising up then down as she pushed herself harder onto the pressure of the water shooting on to her clit. He watched her fingers scrabble for purchase as she lost control, shaking with the force of the wave of pleasure that washed over her. Placing his hand over hers, he gripped her fingers as she clenched hers around him, still shuddering in climax, gasping and moaning in bliss and satisfaction. As her breathing slowed, she turned in the water to face him, wrapping her arms round his neck as he crouched there, kissing him long and slow and deep, tongues meeting and exploring for the first time.
She pulled back and looked at him, and he took off his sunglasses so their eyes could meet.
She smiled. “Hey, you. I saw you in the bar.”
