Written by El_gringo_69

Fiction
14 Sep 2009


She had left the conference dinner early, too many guys, too much testosterone. She rounded the corner on the first floor, fumbling in her handbag for the bloody card swiper thing. Not looking where she was going, crashed straight into the room service waiter holding an empty tray. He was too in a little world of his own. She dropped the bag and its contents scattered. “Here let me help you, it was completely my fault anyway” His accent from south London, dark hair, etc. Not bad, he could have been worse. In the panic, she hadn’t noticed on the front of her dress the second button had come undone - he had and enjoyed the vista. The mess was tidied and thank you’s said. She stood in front of the door to her room and waited for him to disappear around the corner from where she had just come. The card swiped in the slot and the door opened. She flopped on the bed and let out a long sigh “Thank fuck for that” she said to herself. She rested there for a moment, the stress of the day and the last few minutes ebbed from her muscles before she raised herself up to get undressed. The long zip at the back of her black cocktail dress slid open and the garment dropped to the floor. As she stepped out and headed for the shower, a knock at the door. “Jesus, what now?” she muttered under her breath. Hurriedly she donned a dressing gown and answered the door. It was him. “You left this behind”, from pocket he produced her silver bullet. Her heart stopped.

“ Ar, rum, er – That’s er, not mine” she nodded in affirmation of her little white lie. A knowing smiled, and putting the offending item back in his pocket replied. “Oh, Ok. Sorry to disturb. Good night miss.”

The hot water felt good, the pressure made her skin tingle. The soap lathered up nicely and cascaded down over her breasts the foam pierced by her erect nipples. The soapy torrent gave way to fresh hot water, she shook the can and set about taking care of her bikini line. With her legs open, she could clearly she herself in the mirror. She didn’t remove everything, just her lips, leaving a neat line of soft downy curls, the mirror light glistened on the smooth skin.

Dried off, she slipped on her black French nightdress and laid back on the bed, mini bar menu in hand, to choose a night cap. She was feeling so relaxed, fresh and trimmed. The silky material so sensuous as she smoothed the top down over her breasts. It felt good. She could feel her nipples already through the cool satin. Gently and very slowly she caressed her nipples. It felt good, but she needed something, that night cap. The mini-bar was empty and she was getting horny.

Replacing the receiver, she rolled back into the middle of the bed, a “very large Brandy” on its way. A minute or so went past. Waiting, her mind wandered to the incident earlier in the hallway. She thought about him in his starched white shirt and her hands wandered back to her breasts. Her hands ran over the soft black satin, over her thighs, tummy, breasts, her right hand massaging the newly attended area. With her fingers flat she concentrated hard. A knock on the door wrenched her from the delicious imaginary clinch. Breathlessly she called out an answer, “Oh hang on “ Absent minded, walking straight to the door, no dressing gown, she opened it, not realising a small, darker patch on her nightdress now betrayed her earlier activities. He was there, white shirt, tray in hand with a large brandy. “ Shall I bring this inside miss?” he smiled. She was fixed to the spot, heart pounding. In a split second her subconscious took over. She looked at him, “yes please” a naughty smile spread across her face. She had decided, she was going to have him and he was going to have no choice in this matter.

She held the door and he walked through, placing the tray on the table as he drew the tab from his shirt pocket. The door closed and the room darkened. Stepping towards him, her eyes searched him, penetrating, infiltrating his thoughts. His hands fell to his sides, the pen and pad fell to the floor. The two stepped together, still staring. She could feel the warmth of his breath and started to tremble under the weight of his stare. His head raised through an almost unperceivable angle , catching a draft of her perfume, his head started to swim. Their lips met, brushing together, then the tips of their noses. She felt his hands skim down her back on to her bottom. They felt strong and able. Still he did not kiss her, but moved to her neck, her hair still wrapped in a towel, his teeth found the nape of her neck. Gentle nibbles, teething, biting. How could he know her weakness, her leg was visibly shaking now, struggling to support her under the stream of emotion filling her head. Her eyes closed, head tilted forward to allow him to move around her neck. Her hair came down, the towel on the floor. Long dark hair fell in sexy wet strands down her back, over her shoulders, cool hair across his face his attention now on her earlobe. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her safely, lowering her on to the plump, crisp white duvet. She lay there, her arms above her head, hands back to back, looking as though to dive into a pool of molten decadence. Without his even touching her she writhed slowly on the bed, her eyes closed biting her top lip. She rubbed her feet on her calves as he unbuttoned his shirt. Her senses acute, the rustle of material alerted her attention to his undressing. His shirt now open to reveal his chest, she, almost bursting with anticipation now as he slowly un zipped his pants. This was all for her, he pulled back one side then the other, the top of his black boxers now showing as he turned around to slip the trousers off completely. In the twilight of the single bedside lamp she couldn’t quite make out the shape of his bottom, but the show he put on for her was enough to help incite her body to accept him. His knees on the floor and body over the end of the bed, he took her elegant foot in his hands and held the toes to his mouth. The soft, warm and deliciously wet sensation focused her now as his mouth engulfed her toes one by one. His kisses moved up the back of her calf to the back of her knee. Her leg now crooked round his neck as he kissed his way on up the inner of her thigh. In no time at all he reached her. Having just shaven, the whole area was now super sensitive. His tongue ran up and down her lips, the tip just parting them as he moved slowly up and down. He carried on like this in no hurry to please himself, only her. Now he opened her like a ripe peach, her soft forbidden fruit there before him, ready to be consumed. Long strokes with the flat of his tongue, the tip flicking at her now fully erect clitoris. She gasped, her hands on his head, massaging, caressing, nails drawing across his scalp. He did not let up at all and made no sound, his full attention on the task in hand. Her legs now tightened round his neck, just enough room for him to continue to pleasure her. On and on he drove right through her, drawing floods from her which he cleansed away with long slow strokes. His pace never quickened, but the pressure bore down as her breaths drew shallow and rapid, her body stiffened, then jolted in spastic motions, her hips shuddered, her whole body heaved and pulsated as he persisted with his objective. She tried to hold it back, but she could not help the vocal a compliment to the deluge of emotions streaming from her. Pulling on him to stop, she drew him up on top of her. Now they kissed for the first time. Deep, greedy kisses, their tongues dancing like wild banshees. She pushed him off to the side, in full control of him. He was complicit. In one swift action his boxers were gone. He stood to attention like a combatant awaiting orders from his general. On her knees either side of him, she took him. Her head back, her hair down her back, she rode. The devil was chasing her down to consume her soul. Satan’s demons pulled, and tore at her to deny her passion but she was resolute. On and on she rode, her thumbs hooking off the thin straps to release her breasts. They ran free from the jaws of the rancid demons. Instinctively he rose up, the battle hardened warrior, deep inside her, he would save her. His mouth now round her breasts protecting them, Satan would not take her. Again and again he drew life force from deep within her, now not caring her voice cried out in ecstasy, she had triumphed over this wicked demon. But still she wanted more from her lover. Now forward, she parted her sweet cheeks and lowered herself back on to him. She did not take all of him, but just to the rim. He entered and exited repeatedly, the burning grew stronger augmenting the sensation as she massaged herself on his pubic bone. This was so good, too good. Still sensitive from his previous attention, she slowed her pace and set about releasing him.

She turned on him so he could not see her face and took him whole. Long strokes, as he had done for her. Her hands either side of him helped to steady her and allowed her to concentrate. The veins on him were livid with pent up emotion. On she licked, stroked, kissed and mouthed him, wetting a finger on herself, set about looking for his sweet spot. Up and down she mouthed his shaft, her finger probing, investigating before she found the acorn that sent him into overdrive. Jets of hot fusion filled her, she made sure he was spent.

Laying on the covers, every inch of her body was tingling. She was relaxed endorphins filled her brain, her lungs sucking in oxygen. He was already dressing, she watched the erotic performance. The door closed and he was gone.

Next morning, she paid her bill and went over to the concierge to order a taxi. “Oh is the room service waiter from last night still on shift?” she asked. The 60 something concierge looked confused. “What do you mean STILL on shift? Waiter? I bring the room service.”