“Now?” she asked, raising the wine glasses clutched in her hand. “Or later?”
“Later.”
“Sure? They’re real glass.” She shook her hand so the glasses chinked together. “I was expecting plastic. I thought all hotel room glasses were plastic.”
“Evidently not. You’ve picked a classy hotel.”
“Have I?” She gazed around the room. “It’s not bad, is it?”
“Not bad at all.”
“So…” Pouting, she elevated the glasses again.
“No. Later.” He slumped back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Have patience, my dear.”
“I haven’t got any. You know that. And you,” she said, pointing an accusing finger, “are still wearing too much.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Way too much.” She narrowed her eyes. “Come on. Strip.”
Holding her gaze, he raised his left wrist, unclipped a cufflink and rolled up the sleeve of his white shirt. His muscles flexed as he repeated the process with the other sleeve. “Better?”
“Getting there.” She leaned against the wall, hip pressing on the smooth plaster. “Keep going.”
“Okay.” He loosened his tie and popped the top button. “Enough?”
“No.” The corners of her mouth twitched, dimpling her cheeks. “What about those?” She nodded at his trousers.
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Not. Yet.” He remained unmoved, not even blinking.
“Spoilsport.” Sighing dramatically, she rested her head against the cool wall. “I feel underdressed.”
“You are underdressed… delightfully so.” He studied her from stockinged feet upward — slender calves swathed in gossamer thin black nylon, wide, lacy tops circling her come-hither thighs. He lingered on her skimpy, black lace panties, whistling through his teeth. Continuing, he drank in the curve of her hip and toned belly on the way to her bare breasts. He stared at those soft mounds with unabashed lust. Moistening his lips, he whispered, “Come here.”
“Why?” The wine goblets twitched in her hand and her right foot traced arcs in the plush cream carpet.
“Come on,” he urged, “do as you’re told.” He cocked his head to the side, a frown creasing his brow when she didn’t move. “What?” he asked uncertainly.
“Oh, nothing.” Looking down, she toyed with her stocking tops. “Just wondering if I really want you,” she mumbled.
“What?”
Looking up sharply, her lips curled into a playful smirk. “Not really.” She burst into a tinkling laugh and, pushing away from the wall, padded across the shag pile. “‘Course I want you.”
“You’re mean – oops! Mind the debris,” he said and she nimbly hopped over the heap of clothing dumped in her path. “Nice move.”
The clothes were hers, discarded during an impromptu striptease. It had been a rather clumsy episode, not at all the seductive display she’d envisaged. Wearing thick winter clothes, especially a tight, polo-neck sweater, had been a mistake. There was no elegant way to remove them. According to the wall clock, she’d spent the longest three minutes of her life frantically unbuckling, wriggling and tugging. Her knee-high boots had refused to budge and her hair had got all messed up when the polo-neck jammed on her head.
Never mind. He’d enjoyed it anyway. Besides, ungainly striptease or not, the end result was fabulous. Glancing sideways, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror over the screwed-to-the-wall dressing table. Oh yes, scorching!
She resumed looking at him lazing in his seat. “Come on you… up.”
“Which bed?” He stretched languidly. “Or shall we push them together?”
She simultaneously shook her head and hands, glasses clinking. “We can’t do that.”
“Okay… why not?”
“It wouldn’t be right. This one.” She pointed to the nearest bed. “We’ll use this one.”
Deviating to the side, she deposited the wine glasses on a shelf alongside the kettle and basket of tea bags then, hands free, skipped towards her chosen bed and belly-flopped onto it. She bounced twice on the springy mattress then sank into the billowy, white cotton duvet. Wriggling, she rolled onto her back. She flapped her arms as if making a snow angel.
“Ooh… soft,” she said catching him watching.
“I think you’ve gone soft.”
“Huh! How dare you?” she gasped, sniggering. She bit her lip. “Would you prefer me to be seductive?”
She watched his reaction – jaw dropping, eyes staring – as she raised her shapely backside enough to draw down her panties. She slid them slinkily along her smooth legs, hooking them with a flourish over her feet. She dangled them on fingertips before letting them flutter to the carpet. To her delight, he slid a hand across his crotch, gently squeezing his burgeoning erection.
“God, you’re sexy,” he murmured.
“Am I?” Moaning, she snaked her spine, twisting the white sheets. “Mmm… come here, lover.” She beckoned with a slender, red-tipped finger and puckered her rouged lips. She watched him approach, noting his awkward gait and the carefully positioned hand. “Trousers… off.” She raised her arms above her head, stretching cat-like. “Now.”
This time, he didn’t argue. At the foot of the bed, he released his belt buckle and unzipped. Pausing to scrape off his polished brogues, he stepped out of his trousers and placed them neatly on the other bed. His shirt and tie were next, followed by his marl-grey boxers. Her gaze never left his crotch as he removed them.
“Oh baby,” she groaned, “is that for me?”
He was hard as nails. His erection bobbed as he placed the boxers on top of the pile and stooped to remove his socks. All done, he stood before her, arms spread.
“Would you like it?” he asked, grinning.
Daft question. Her sex was throbbing. By way of an answer, she drew up her knees then let them fall aside, displaying and offering her sex to him.
“Oh darling, you’re wet,” he breathed, “so wet.”
Yes, she was. Soaked. Wetter than a British summer. Her shaved pussy glistened with enticing, slippery juices all ready to be enjoyed. “Want some?” she asked. She touched her slit, pressing gently, then sucked her finger into her mouth, sealing her lips around it. “Umm…”
“Oh babe, I want…” His voice trailed away as she popped her finger out of her mouth and smacked her lips together.
“Your turn,” she teased. “Would you—”
She stopped. A wicked smile curved her lips, prompting the return of her dimples. He was already on all fours and crawling along the duvet towards her. His hands grasped her inner thighs as he dipped his head and lapped the length of her slit.
“Shit,” she hissed, startled by the intensity of the intrusion. “You’re not holding back now, are you?”
His reply was a steady stream of teasing licks, like a hummingbird repeatedly dipping its tongue in search of nectar. Eyes closed, she dreamily rocked her hips, purring in appreciation of each tender stroke of his tongue.
“Hmm… that’s so — wow, oh God!” Her eyes popped open as he flicked her clit from its hiding place and quickly sucked it. “Oh…oh…”
“Like that, uh?” he asked, barely pausing.
Did he really need to ask? He must be drowning in her juices and her sighs were surely unmistakable? Wind-up merchant!
For a few seconds, she allowed him to continue nibbling and running a finger between her glistening lips. Then she tapped sharp fingernails on his shoulder, clawing for attention.
“Baby, that’s good,” she gasped when he raised his head. “But—” She coughed. “But I—” She held up a hand to his enquiring eyes while she struggled to catch her breath. “I want you, too. I want your cock in my mouth. Fancy a sixty,” she inhaled sharply, “nine?”
“A sixty – huh – nine?” he said, mimicking her. He grinned mischievously. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” She slapped her chest. “Bit short of breath. Well?”
“Sixty-nine? Yes. Great. How do you want to do it?”
She raised her eyebrows and blinked. “Is there more than one way?”
His lips twitched. Grimacing, he drew a breath to speak.
“Oh,” she interrupted. “I’m being daft, aren’t I?”
“Has it been a while? You’re blushing.” He winked. “You on top, yes? Isn’t that what you prefer?” Without waiting for an answer, he scrambled to his knees and then lay on his back, head supported by two pillows. “Okay, I’m set.”
She paused, taking a few breaths and fanning her hot face. Yes, it has been a while. Far too long.
Excitement building, she straddled his chest and slid her hands down his torso. A low, rumbling groan escaped her lips as she relished that night’s first touch of his cock. Her eyelids fluttered as she closed her fingers around him. His erection was powerful, firm and hot in her grip. Better still, a drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip. She inhaled deeply, filling her nostrils with the musky scent.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Oh yes… very.”
Her pussy tingled: hot and needy. She groaned, her hips gyrating in anticipation. Ooh… his warm, strong hands grasped her hips, guiding her down over his face. Yes! She quivered as he reclaimed his target, resuming his delectable, swooshing licks.
Time to reciprocate… leaning forward and resting on one forearm, she gently kissed his inflamed dome. She flicked out her tongue to lap up the pearly droplets of pre-cum before taking him smoothly into her mouth. Mmm… He tasted delicious, just as she remembered. And the heat, the throbbing against her tongue, the twitches each time she rasped her tongue over his sensitive tip… how she adored it.
She stroked and bobbed, feeling him gasp into her pussy. His legs trembled beneath her and the steady rhythm of his lapping tongue faltered. A few more strokes and she felt him pushing her buttocks, lifting her off his face.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he gasped. “You’ve got to stop. I’m too close.”
Reluctantly, she took his cock from her mouth. “Stop? Why?” She looked back over her left shoulder. “You’ve come in my mouth before.”
“I know… but not this time. Not now. I want to be inside you.” He ran a hand along her tummy and cupped a swaying breast. “I want to come while I’m making love to you.”
“Making love?” She snorted with laughter. “Honestly, you old romantic,” she said, giving him a playful prod.
“Yes. I’m a romantic,” he retorted indignantly. “And less of the old.”
“Okay lover.
He nodded and scrambled out of the way.
In position over her, he kissed her brow and the tip of her nose. The affection felt good. Intimate. He shifted his body, his cock nosing at her slit. She gazed up at him, arms around his back, and involuntarily blinked at the moment of penetration. Wet as she was, that first intrusion of his thick meat was both shocking and wonderful. She winced as her sensitive flesh adjusted.
“Okay?”
“Yes. Fine. Just fine. Keep going.” She slid her hands down to his buttocks and dug fingers into his flesh. He felt so good inside her. So damn good. “Fuck me,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “Fuck me, make love to me – do what you want. Just do it hard.”
“Like this?”
She grunted when he thrust again. So good. “Yes!”
Pressed into the pillows, she closed her eyes, giving in to the bliss. He thrust rhythmically, plunging up and down her needy sheath with the most deliciously satisfying friction. As he pumped, he held her, his head dropping lower until his cheek nestled against hers. His hot breath scorched her ear and she thrilled to the sound of his low, animalistic grunts. A sheen of sweat stuck his chest to her breasts, and their gasps were warm blasts of air on flushed cheeks and necks.
She met his thrusts with a bump of her pelvis, the action driving him wonderfully deep. Her fingertips, gripping his bum cheeks, detected the tightening of his muscles as his erection expanded deep inside her. He was close…
In the darkness behind eyelids squeezed shut, the sensations created by their bodies, the pleasures they took and gave, were all heightened. Each grunt and gasp, the constant squeaking of the bed, the potent scent of sweat and sex, all mingled to provide a perfect sensual backdrop.
It couldn’t last. It was too perfect. A sensory overload was imminent.
She felt it first, rumbling from her core. He must have felt it – her tightening muscles, her shallow breathing – but he gritted his teeth and carried on pounding her, prolonging the moment, not wanting it to end. But you can’t hold back a tsunami or a volcano… or any of Mother Nature’s wondrous explosions. She wrapped arms and legs around him and let go.
“Ahh…yesss…”
Her pussy contracted hard around him, squeezing him tight while he held his breath, muscles taut, still driving into her soaking depths. She knew he was ready, knew her release would trigger his own flood.
“Yesss,” she hissed into his ear, followed by a pecked kiss. “Come now, my love, come now… with me.”
One last thrust… buried as deep as possible, he finally relented. He shuddered. Grunted. He held her close as he pumped her full of his seed. Spurt after spurt. She exhaled loudly, sharing his moment of ecstasy and release.
When he finally relaxed, she followed, arms flopping sideways and legs sliding down onto the mattress. Fucked!
“Off me, please,” she gasped, suddenly aware of her lover’s pressing weight.
He obediently sagged onto his left side, arm trapped beneath her relaxed, glowing body. Without speaking, he draped his right arm across her chest, hand on her left breast, and held the hard nipple between thumb and middle finger. He toyed with it as they lay in a silence broken only by their breathing.
She closed her eyes, her dimples flickering into existence as she smiled.
“Hey.” Her slumbering peace was interrupted when he shifted position, jolting her. “You asleep?”
“No. Are you?”
“No.” He shifted again. “Can’t we push the beds together? Just for a little while. This isn’t terribly comfortable and, hang on… dead arm.” He extracted the limb from beneath her. “That’s better.”
“Sorry.” She kissed his shoulder. “We can’t use the other bed.”
“We won’t mess it up anymore and—”
“No.”
He sighed. “Okay.” He raised his released arm, wondering where to put it. Failing to find a good position, he rolled onto his back. “I wish you had the room to yourself tonight.”
“Mmm… me too.” Dipping her head, she kissed his chest. “If I did, you know, have the room to myself all night,” she licked his nipple, sweeping her tongue over it, “could you stay?”
“Oh, sweetheart…” He pursed his lips, his eyebrows knotting.
She kissed the other nipple, her lips teasing his sensitive nub. “What if I’d given you notice, told you earlier?”
“No. Not even then. You know how it is.”
“Stolen moments?”
He nodded slowly. “Sorry sweetheart. I wish it wasn’t the case but—”
“Shhh…” She rested her head on his chest and twirled his downy hairs. “I know. We’re lucky to have any time together.” Raising her head, she looked into his eyes. “I’ll take what I can get.” She shuffled closer, pressing her body against him. “Just hold me for a while.”
“That I can do.”
Settling, she stroked his chest and breathed in the spicy aroma emanating from his skin. She smiled as she detected faint traces of his favourite shower gel. That brought back memories. Another shower together would be good, she mused. Then again… she rubbed her cheek against his flesh. She didn’t want to move.
“Do you want some wine?” she asked sleepily. “I can pour you some.”
He didn’t answer. Beneath her cheek, his body twitched, muscles tensing. His right arm twisted, fractionally and, recognizing that movement, her heart suddenly squeezed with panic.
Jerking to attention, she looked into his eyes. “Is it that time already?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You looked at your watch.”
Sighing, he placed a finger to her lips then traced her cheekbones with his fingertips. His mouth curved into a smile. “You didn’t flinch,” he said, almost whispering. “You used to recoil when I did that.” He tucked one finger under her chin and gazed at her. Breaking eye contact, he rolled off the bed. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“You’ll see.”
She lay back, head sinking into the fluffy pillows, staring at the ceiling. She counted the tiny cracks in the white plaster while listening to the snap of the seal being broken on a screw-top bottle, and the glug of wine. She smiled. He was pouring her a glass of wine. How sweet.
She drew a deep breath, exhaling with a gentle sigh. She inhaled again, holding her breath to hear the thumping of her heart. It beat out a steady rhythm, like the ticking of a clock. And there were other noises, further intrusions – the traffic outside was louder, the rumble on the tarmac highway more constant than sporadic. Car doors slammed somewhere beyond the curtained window and voices called to one another. Footsteps stomped down the corridor, suitcase wheels squealing.
Afternoon had become early evening. Time was up.
“Here you go,” he said, holding out a brimming glass of wine.
Sitting up, she plumped the pillows and leaned against them. “Thank you,” she said, taking his offering. Her wedding band tapped against the glass as she clutched it. She quickly switched hands. “Cheers,” she said and sipped.
“Any good?”
“Oh yes. Lovely.” She drank again then smiled up at him. “Are you sure you won’t have any? A small glass.”
He shook his head. Dropping on to the bed beside her, he patted her knee. He raised his left hand, the thick gold band on his finger glinting as he rubbed perspiration off his face.
“Sweaty,” he muttered, not looking at her, “I should shower. Remind me — what’s your plan tonight?”
She lowered her glass. “Meeting in the bar at eight. Table booked for dinner.”
“Dinner and a girlie catch-up night?”
“Yep.”
“Nice.” He absently stroked her arm, fingernails gently scratching her skin exactly as she liked it. “Eight? That’s quite late, isn’t it?”
“Not really. The others are driving here after work. I’m the only one with the day off. Anna reckons she might be late. She’s asked me to order for her in case.”
“Anna? The one you’re sharing with?” When she nodded, his brow furrowed. “So, you’ve got this room to yourself for a while?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Damn.” He grimaced. “Wish I could stay longer.”
“But you can’t.” There was a moment of silence. A brief hiatus of time. Closing her eyes, she willed him to hear her thoughts – all those words, desires, emotions. Things she wanted him to know but couldn’t say lest the pain should tear her apart. “You should get going,” she said softly.
“I need to shower.” He turned his wrist to look at his watch making no attempt to hide it this time. “I’ll have to be quick.”
That answered her next question: no, she would not be invited to join him in the shower. Not this time. When he rolled off the bed, she took a sip of wine then carefully placed the glass on the nightstand. Settling back against the pillows, she let her eyelids droop. She dozed while the bathroom fan buzzed into life and the shower rained down against the roses etched onto the ornate glass screen. The scent of his shower gel filtered through the air.
True to his word, he was quick – barely more than a splash. He emerged wearing a fluffy towel which he flicked over his body with dexterous speed. She watched him dress, fumbling with buttons but taking care to smooth out creases and straighten his tie.
“Do I look respectable?” he asked, slipping on his shoes. “Not ruffled?”
“Stand straight.” Quickly looking up and down his body, she smiled. “You look perfect. Pristine.”
“Good.” He stood still, gazing at her. His fingers twitched. “I hate this bit,” he said quietly.
“Me too. Oh darling, come here…” She leaped out of bed and ran to him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips against his. “I miss you already.”
“Me too.” He kissed her back. Softly. Tenderly. “I have to—”
“I know.” Arms fallen to her sides, she stepped away.
“Okay. Right. Have fun tonight and tomorrow,” he croaked. He coughed to clear his throat. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“Not likely! It’s an alumni lunch. A Buffet.” She pulled a face. “I hate buffets. I wasn’t planning to go but Anna was keen and then the others said they were going, so…” She shrugged. “Anyway, it gave us this time together.”
“Yes, it did.” He suddenly wrapped his arms around her pulling her close. “One more kiss.”
“Until next time,” she breathed into his mouth. “Whenever that may be.”
“We’ll find time,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “We always do.”
