Shyly, I move back in front of the window and press myself to the glass. "Strip?" I ask, gesturing my question.
You nod firmly and expectantly. You point to your own shirt to indicate that my top must be the first thing off. Slowly, I unbutton my work blouse, letting my hands slip over my bare skin as I slide the shirt to the floor. You smile and nod in approval. You gesture for me to keep going. You point to the pants. I can see you mouthing, "Off" from across the expanse and behind the two panes of glass--yours and mine.
I wiggle out of my pants. Still a bit shy, but enjoying playing along. I do a little strip-tease dance for you. You laugh a bit at my silliness, but you quickly return us to business with just a look. My bra is the next victim of your whim. I remove it as you instruct, releasing my breasts to the cool air of the hotel room. My nipples harden and I run my palms lightly over the tips—enjoying the sensation. My panties are next, and I bend down all the way to the floor as they slide down my legs. I'm showing off a bit for you.
I take my shirt off while flagrantly drinking in your nakedness with my eyes as you stand in the window.
Then I step away for a moment.
When I return, I have the room phone in one hand. Theatrically, I show it to you before putting it away. Then I hold a sheet of paper to my chest and illuminate it with the tiny, but powerful LED flashlight on my keychain. In big block letters, you see my room number.
I watch as you read the instructions and punch in the numbers. Then the phone rings beside me and I take the receiver to my ear while I watch you take a seat, naked as the day you were born, in the faux leather hotel chair. Then my room phone rings. I don't bother to say hello.
"I am going to call you 'Clio', do you understand the reference?"
After a brief pause you reply shyly – quizzically, "one of the muses?".
"Very good. And bright as well as beautiful, I see. Yes, I can't remember the specialty at the moment, just that the name means 'glorious one'. And you will call me 'Cain'. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"We have entered a bubble, you and I. Outside the bubble, you have a life, and I have a life. Outside the bubble, we do not recognize one another."
I illuminate the page once again.
"Inside the bubble, you will put on only the long coat hanging by the door, with whatever essentials you need in the pockets, and come to my room. I suggest the 5th floor skywalk to this wing to avoid the lobby."
Being on vacation, I'm wearing well-broken-in jeans that require no underwear. I lock your troubled eyes as I unfasten them and slide them below the windowsill. Stepping on the pant cuffs with alternating toes, I free my legs with conserved motion. My stern countenance remains locked onto you, willing you to decide.
My lips form a little "o". You are there before me, the challenge has been set. No, it wasn't quite a challenge--more of a testing command. I heard it in your voice--there is no choice for me but to go, even if I wanted the illusion of decision.
I turn from you at the window--then turn back around and close the curtains. Not to leave you in suspense--you know I'm coming--but to draw the encounter out. I have to hope that this isn't the wrong move on my part. I slip on my work-friendly-yet-very-sexy stilettos...
Well, he didn't tell me to wear shoes, but a girl's gotta walk in something, doesn't she? I think to myself. I'm nervous, eager to do the right things. I tuck my hotel key in the pocket of my coat and decide to risk bringing nothing else. I quickly pile my hair up in a clip to give me some air of professional dignity for the walk over--just in case I run into a co-worker.
I take a deep breath. What am I doing?
My hands shake as I button the coat over my bare flesh. The winter wool brushes against my skin, and I can feel every inch of fabric in a heightened state of self-awareness.
What am I doing? I don't know this man.
And yet, beneath my nervousness is a deeper excitement. I can feel that tingle in my belly--the adrenaline of venturing into the unknown.
I step out the door and press the elevator button. The doors open and I step in amongst a throng of other travelers--mostly businessmen and women, but also a family. "Five please," I tell the gentleman closest to the buttons. He gives me a long look up and down before pressing the button. Despite the relative cover of the coat, I feel utterly exposed.
I walk through the skywalk and navigate my way to your room. My whole body is shaking, ever so slightly.
The door is ajar. I don't knock, but, rather, I open the door slowly.
"Cain?" my voice feels very small in your spacious suite. I look around, not immediately seeing you. I look towards the window and see only my own room--a sliver of light coming through the curtains. My nerves are replaced by curiosity with just a twinge of fear.
"Cain?" I call again, a little louder this time.
"You came." Your response comes from an armchair on the other side of the suite. It's soft and firm, and it makes my knees buckle.
"Y...yes." I can't take my eyes from yours. . . .
"And you are even more glorious without distance and glass between us, Clio. I took the liberty of pouring you a glass of wine at the desk. There is also a glass of ice water if you prefer, or I'm sure it will likely be needed later in any case."
I remain seated, my head partly supported by a knuckle at my cheek and an index finger at my temple as I watch you have a few sips of chilled white from the mini-bar fridge. I have a sip of my own water and wait for the moment you place the glass back down.
"Now go put your coat on one of the hooks by the door, walk back here – give me a pose and a look – then step out of your shoes."
The emotions racing across your face are too numerous to count, and all in the span of a second or two. I give you a wry, knowing, and yet reassuring grin with only one corner of my mouth and a single eyebrow. As you are walking toward the doorway, I know your mind is racing to determine what exactly constitutes a "look and a pose" in the midst of trying to determine why you are in my room in the first place and why this man's voice reverberates with such benevolent authority in your psyche. I can almost hear you ask yourself … "and what the hell does he want? Madonna 'frame shot' arms?"
I have to focus to keep from laughing. Your mind is so busy calculating that you forget to be freaky about being naked in front of a stranger. You remove your coat as if I were an old lover, and you do a practiced slinky, slow strut back across the room for me.
I can feel my cock thickening in my lap.
When you reach the corner of the bed, you plant both feet wide and lock your body straight and tall, tummy, thigh and arm muscles defined as you plant yourself solid, following the move with the slightest J-Lo, lateral head bob, then lock your amazing, oversized eyes onto mine. The motion causes me to drink in your body from the bottom to the top in one delicious glance, then splash down into those hazel over green starburst irises of yours. I’m riveted.
I feel unusual, then I realize it is because I need to breathe. I slowly allow air back into my lungs so as not to suck greedily and give away too much. After a few moments, I give you your due.
"That was absolutely perfect, Clio. Perfect."
You begin to smile but turn your back to me. I suspect to hide the relief on your face. You may already be onto my mischief, I think to myself. Then you make a display of removing your shoes with your beautiful little bottom facing me, proving that you can pull my strings as well.
As my eyes are glued to your sweet sex peeking from beneath alluring buttocks, I am tempted to cry "no brainer", however, as you turn to face me again, my cock has lifted from my lap and all I can do is look up at you with a broad smile and laughing eyes.
When you see me, cock coming to attention, and the smile on my face, you smile, widely and openly for the first time since entering the room. It is almost like sunshine from your face.
"Lay face down on the bed, Clio. You had a long day. You could probably use a massage."
Throwing the comforter and top sheet free, I climb onto the bed and kneel beside your outstretched form, then begin working your shoulder and neck muscles with lavender body lotion lubricating my strong fingers.
You have long since relaxed when I get all the way down your spine to your buttocks. I use the palms of my hands to work through the thick muscles of your lovely bum. Then I work the muscles of your thighs, occasionally giving your pussy light glancing strokes as I get to the tops of the muscle groups.
I've bonded with your body now. We are no longer strangers. It's time our bodies and minds became more intimate.
I turn you over and you eagerly roll with my guiding hand. I look down into your captivating eyes, while feather stroking the outer curves of one of your breasts the backs of my fingers. Then I lean down and press my lips lightly against yours. You press yours harder up to me and your lips part eagerly. My other hand holds the back of your head as our lips and tongues struggle. Your passion is already far too high for pleasant kissing. I capture your bottom lip with my teeth as my hand closes firmly on your breast, massaging the nipple between my thumb and index finger.
I dip my head and inhale your other breast into my mouth, nursing on you and swirling my tongue over your erecting nipple. You arch your back and moan softly into the room.
After a time, I free your breasts and look back into your eyes.
"I am far too aroused at this point, so I want you to suck my cock until I cum."
I can tell there are all manner of things dancing behind your eyes as you hear me.
"Then, while I recharge, I'll lick your pretty pink pussy until you do the same. And then I'll fuck you for a good, long while, Clio."
With that, I roll over onto my back, my arm assisting you up into a sitting position in the bed.
I take a moment to look you over, laying back on the bed, cock erect before me. I bite my lip in anticipation, savoring the pause. I can imagine what your cock feels and tastes like in my mouth. I'm slick between my legs just thinking about it.
I bend down on all fours and slink towards you. The image conjures up a cat waiting to pounce--a tiger on the prowl.. Slowly, the first half of my body slithers down, leaving my ass up in the air, prone. I look up into your eyes. Seeking. My hands move down your thighs and rest on your abdomen.
You can feel my hot breath on your cock--my little lips brushing against it ever so gently as I take a not-so-tentative taste. I lick from the very base to the very tip and pause. My eyes, once shy and timid, dance with mischief. You look down, momentary pleasure aborted, raising one eyebrow in a question and a challenge.
"Clio." It's not quite a question, not quite a command as my tongue barely brushes the tip of your cock. I can feel you pulsing and throbbing in arousal.
I smile. It's a wicked, half-cocked sort of grin. You smile back at me and shake your head. "I see. Apparently, you need help finding that which you seek."
Your hands move down my arms and to the back of my neck. Gently, firmly, you weave your fingers through my hair and guide my head down--my mouth accepting your cock with one insistent stroke. One of your hands moves down and strokes my cheek--the other still in my hair, guiding me exactly how you'd like me. Taking your cock in my mouth with the right depth and speed.
My rear is still up in the air, and I wiggle it a bit from the sheer delight of the moment. My pussy is exposed to the coolish air of the hotel room, and I can feel my own throbbing start as I take you completely in my mouth.
I am captivated by your submissive nature as I drive your erotic mouth up and down my erection, holding your head by a fistful of silky hair. Just as a test (and just to be evil) I hold you down tight and thrust deliciously into your throat.
I can see your beautiful tummy contract as you gag.
You gasp deliciously for air when I let you up, yet you voice no objection. I pause to look into your amazing eyes while you breathe, your lips glisten with saliva. You lick and hold my stare. You beg no quarter. At least this far, you remain surrendered. Your pretty face is mine to fuck as I please. How fiendishly erotic.
When I guide your perfectly-formed-cock-sucking lips back over my throbbing dick, you eagerly open wide for it. You’ve definitely got your inner slutpuppy mojo going, I think to myself as I drive your pretty face back down for more luxurious stroking. I find the angle and depth where you can most comfortably accept me, and continue guiding your sexy lips along my rock hard dick.
Occasionally, I get a little rough, but only enough to keep her interested in being submissive.
I can’t take my eyes off the sight of those lips traveling over my shaft again and again. The tight warmth builds and builds until there is no stopping the inevitable. I actually feel and see the stroke of your mouth that pushes me past the point of no return.
"That's a good girl...." your voice reverberates in my body, and I delight completely in your praise. "I'm going to cum in your mouth now, Clio." The declaration does not offer an option, nor would I have taken one. I accept you completely as you release into my mouth. . ..
Letting go of her head, my arms snap outstretched as if crucified while my entire body contracts. It's one of those moments when, for the briefest of times, all of who I am is a penis, shimmering in orgasmic sensation, ejaculating again and again into your hungry, sucking mouth and you continue the delicious work on your own while swallowing me greedily down. I’m lost in the overwhelming sensation.
When the here-and-now returns to focus, I have you held snuggly to my chest with one hand cradling your neck and my cheek on the top of your head. Most of your upper body rises and falls as I breathe.
"I guess I don't have to tell you, I enjoyed that." I don't remember making noise. However, knowing me, when I cum that hard, if there is anyone in the next room, they probably think we're vivisecting a Kodiak bear in here.
Your giggle makes me smile.
Rolling you over onto your back, with my mouth and fingertips, I again pay homage to your sculpture perfect breasts, then trail soft kisses down your flat tummy. When I feel your flesh begin to rise toward the pubic bone, I step over your leg with my knees and slide down to my stomach.
Mmmmm… I'll never understand why some guys don't like to do this. Even if you don't like the other sensations involved with going down on a woman – how could you not love the view?
When I lock your thighs snugly to my shoulders, spreading you wide before my face, I realize you have already been busy with your fingers at this end while I was making use of your mouth. You are soaking wet and the alluring petals of your sex already open and eager.
The edges of your thighs shine with your juice. Oh well, cold on the outside, warm in the middle. Last one in is gay!
No need to warm you up, I press my mouth to your pussy and slide my tongue in to get a good taste. Oh yes. Mildly tart and a delicious aroma. A fine aperitif, indeed.
As my lips and tongue contact the many pre-fired surfaces of your sex, you releases a pleading, high-pitched moan and arches your back as I cinch your thighs, securely pressing your flesh to my mouth.
Massaging your soft outer labia with my lips in a kind of kissing motion, my tongue begins its practiced snaking undulations, swirling along inner labia, scrolling over the little erect button of your clit.
It is not long before your are breathing through parted lips and roughly massaging your breasts with both hands while your hips begin to shiver and thrust against my face. Your moans of pleasure are following closer and closer together – my favorite tune.
Every so often I penetrate you as deeply as possible with my tongue to taste more of your sweet juice, which is now covering my face below my nose, but is all quite warm and fresh. The sounds, the aroma, the textures, the soft struggling is tremendously stimulating, and I feel my sleeping member respond.
I whimper softly with the sensation, lips parted, chest thrust forward. I’m riding an edge that I cannot yet cross. Your tongue does its exquisite dance across my pussy lips. I see you look up at me, fire in your eyes like a beast devouring rare meat.
My own digits go to my mouth, and I bite and suck my index finger. The taste from my covert stimulation is still on my hand. You take the hint, and I feel one hand release my body and move underneath your own mouth.
A single finger slips inside very slowly, and you make a “come here” motion gently. I imagine it looks rather the same as that motion you made in front of the window. Already so aroused, your manual stimulation is enough to put me over the edge.
Stroking your clitoris brazenly with the flat of my tongue, stimulating it with the gliding texture, I hear the change in your pitch. My middle finger is hooked inside you under the pubic bone, stroking the roof of your wonderfully textured passage in an area sizzling with lust-fired nerve endings. It’s a very secure feeling. With your thigh tight and a good hold inside, you can’t get away when the bucking starts. I hear the pitch of your moan create a sudden perfect glissando to the top of the scale. Hold on tight, baby girl. Here it comes.
I watch as your tummy contracts and your delicate hands grip desperately into the white linen beneath our bodies. You attempt to choke off a scream, then lose the battle and empty your lungs in an airy, staccato yell.
As your orgasm progresses and muscles begin spasming, I remove the direct stimulation from your clitoris, instead using my lips to massage as much of your vulva as I can reach around my stroking finger.
When your body eventually subsides, I give you a minute to catch your breath. Then I move my body over yours and lock eyes while sliding my cock slowly into your tight, wet pussy. Your mouth forms a perfect "O" as I do so, and your hands hold onto my ribs.
Once inside, I lean in and kiss you deeply, giving you a deep taste of your sex as I begin stroking luxuriously into your silky little passage.
Your lips muffle my moans of pleasure. Every inch of you produces pleasure—a tingling, tight sensation that stems in my belly and seems to escape through my mouth in gasps and hoarse, ragged breaths.
“Mmmm, baby girl,” in an unexpected tenderness, you take my head in your hand and stroke my hair, “How do you want me to fuck you?” Every word is punctuated by your cock, thrusting ever-so-slightly deeper, ever-so-slightly faster with every other syllable.
I look up at you, still trembling and shaky from my first orgasm, eyes wide.
“Please,” I whisper in between gasps. My answer does not match your question. It doesn’t matter. You know what it means. You lean back and swing my legs up over your shoulders. They’re unsteady—soft and pliant from the earlier release. You press forward in one smooth, fluid stroke—bringing my legs completely down to my chest.
The sensation is intense. You slide so deeply inside me that I can feel it in my abdomen. It’s slightly painful, but in that good sort of way.
“Harder?” Your eyes have not left mine. I nod. Please. My hands are against your chest—holding you back and pulling you in at the same time. I hadn’t noticed, but my short nails are starting to leave red marks—a little pain for your gratification as well. My legs shake with the intensity, and I cannot hold back any longer. I hold my breath. Your strokes have become primitive, bestial, and I’m overloaded with demanding waves of pleasure, crashing violently against my senses.
You sense my release, and your strokes intensify—not stopping to give my body rest. I can feel that subtle increase in blood flow making your own member harder, filling me up completely.
Driving hard into your tight hole, I’m maddened with lust for this stunning little creature I have folded beneath me. I watch your face contort beautifully as your little death takes you. I feel you clamp down even more firmly on my shaft, even as your depths open up in biological anticipation of my hot seed.
I’m crushing your tiny form into me, driving into you like a bull as my own orgasm rages. Having felt the athletic tone in your supple musculature, I had already decided to hold nothing back, knowing you are young and fit enough to handle it. That being fortunate, as all that currently remains of my psyche is the blissful thrusting beast, caring for nothing in the world save emptying hot semen as deeply and viciously as possible into the glorious beauty lying folded and screaming orgasmically beneath him.
When my humanity begins to return, and I am sucking deeply at the air. I stretch out with my still pulsing cock inside you. Slowly, I help ease your cramped knees down straight beside me, supporting my weight on my elbows to free your breathing.
I look down and hold transfixed in your stunning eyes, and for a while, we breathe together. After a time, I realize your breasts are lightly shining from my perspiration. I begin to soften inside her, so I give you the briefest kiss and roll by your side, keeping my arm supporting your head, giving us some room to cool.
I get up, walking naked from the bed to the ice water and take a greedy gulp. A bit of water dribbles down my chest and mixes with the salt of our sweat. I can still feel you in between my legs--the phantom sensation of you filling me up. I throb deeply at the thought.
I turn to the bed and look at you--you're eyeing up my form, your look one of complete possession. Should I slip my coat back on? Recover myself and go? I wonder if I'll be taking that clumsy walk back to my room that night--legs weak and stumbling with that freshly-fucked feeling.
Or--as I look upon your countenance--will I be staying here for a bit....re-lathering us both into a frenzy, falling asleep with only a few hours left in the night, and then getting up early and taking the morning elevator, full of men and women off to the conference?
"Clio," you beckon to me with your voice--silky smooth and enticing. I bring the water back to the bed for you. I think I have my answer.
She snuggles back to my side and I finish the water off, knowing that’s only a temporary reprieve from the thirst.
Leaning over, I gently kiss her forehead and stroke her cheek with the backs of my fingers.
“I actually have a spare toothbrush. Apart from that, I have only guy products. Given your other … deficiencies in basic needs, think of an appropriate time for a wakeup call.”
With that, a more meaningful kiss while cupping a perfect breast in my hand.
If you’ll forgive the playful objectification …
If someone lets you borrow the keys to an Edo Ford GT,
You’re going to want to keep her out and stretch her legs for as long as you can ;-)
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