We talk over a glass of wine in my hotel suite. The tension in her body betrays her raw nerves. Her hands tremble slightly as she brings the glass to her lips. I give her time, and space, to move through this emotion.
This isn’t her first time, our first time. I know that under her silky dress a lace thong covers a freshly shaved mound with a delicate landing strip. That is how I marked her the last time, sending her home to her unsuspecting husband with my cum swimming in her stomach. There had been no condom either. I had insisted on that. Two boundaries crossed in a single afternoon of passion. Infidelity amplified by degrees.
I had made it clear that next time there would be no boundaries at all. She understood well what that meant. It was also clear that she was free to say no, to break this off, content to live only with the memories of our intense passion and the longed-for sexual release that it afforded her. I had my suspicions she wouldn’t be able to do that but wasn’t certain until the knock came at the door.
I opened it to find her more fragile than ever. She had never looked more breathtakingly beautiful, her vulnerability and tentativeness so evident, and yet her primal need pushing her ever forward into the abyss. Goosebumps visible on her bare upper chest, her breathing irregular, her eyes darting from place to place, her hands fidgeting nervously.
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I hardly slept last night, conflicted between the guilt over what I was about to do and my undeniable animal need to see this through to the next step. It’s more than the physical pleasure, of that I’m certain. There is an intimacy between us. Our coupling lifts me emotionally and makes me feel complete.
This morning my mind was swimming. I was desperate for him to leave the house for his office. I needed to be alone. I watched at the window as he drove away, my fingers instinctively reaching for my clit as my eyes closed and I began to imagine what was to come. I stifled my instinct to make myself cum, wanting to save all of myself.
Getting ready for him was a thrill. I picked out and discarded four dresses before settling on the one that struck the right balance between demure and alluring. The lingerie was the only constant – that I had carefully procured and stashed away in a private spot for just this occasion. I reveled in how sexy it made me look and the rush of arousal it gave me as I put it on. I had showered and washed myself thoroughly, oh-so carefully shaving my mound just as I knew he would expect – no, require. My heart pounding, I sculpted the little landing strip. It made me feel so erotic, so sexy, so alluring. What made it special, though, was that I was doing it for him.
I took time preparing myself, covering myself in softly scented body lotion, fixing my hair, sliding the thong into place, fastening the low-cut lace bra, and slowly, luxuriously sliding the sheer nylons up my thighs. A drop of fluid trickled down my thigh. My heart was still racing, every nerve ending alive.
The drive to the hotel was a complete daze. I could barely focus on the traffic. It felt as though I hit every red light. Somehow I managed to pull into the parking lot without incident, taking care to find a discrete spot where my car couldn’t be recognized even though the hotel was one town over and well enough off the beaten path that it was well nigh impossible that anyone would see it.
I pulled into the parking spot and sat for a moment while I composed myself. My trembling thumbs tapped out a simple message.
“Here.”
The wait for a response was agonizing. After what seemed an eternity, my phone buzzed.
“Room 1201.”
I left the car and walked toward the hotel entrance, dizzy with excitement and tortured by guilt. As I waited for the elevator a man and a woman joined me, and we rode up in silence. My nerves became even more frayed as I realized my thong was already soaked. Could they smell my arousal in the elevator car, I wondered. They exited on the fourth floor, and I was left alone to attempt to regain some equilibrium. The doors opened and I turned right and walked down the hallway. I tapped on the door discreetly and it opened. Taking a deep breath, I stepped in.
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I usher her in and embrace her, gently at first, our lips barely grazing. Her body is stiff, and I can feel her trembling. Good. Without warning, I push her firmly up against the wall, pinning her arms above her head, and kiss her passionately. Her mouth emits a faint whimper, but she otherwise offers no response other than to open her mouth passively to accept my tongue. I press my body against her, making sure that she can feel my erection through my pants, and then quickly release her. My hands cup her face softly, and looking into her eyes, I greet her.
“You look ravishing.”
The gratitude in her eyes is all the response I need. I lead her to the sitting area, where I have already poured two glasses of wine, and motion for her to sit. I hand her a glass and study her while she takes a tentative first sip. I can see the rigidity in her body fighting the arousal in her flushed visage. There is no need to rush. I keep silent so that her inner conflict has room to resolve itself. It has always been thus.
Finally, I break the ice.
“I presume he noticed your grooming,” I inquire. Her eyes cast downward, she fidgets slightly.
“Yes,” comes her soft reply.
“And what did you tell him,” I press further.
“That a bunch of my girlfriends were doing it. It was a bit of a dare.”
“Did he buy it,” I ask.
A wry chuckle seems barely audible in her reply. “Yes, I think he believes it.”
“That’s good,” I respond. “You don’t need any complications.”
I rise and stand over her. Her eyes momentarily fix on the bulge in my pants. A faint intake of breath. I bend over and place my hand beneath her chin, tilting her head up. Her gaze locks onto mine, her desire evident. She doesn’t need to be told what to do next. Her mouth opens wide and I let my saliva pour down into it before kissing her intensely. This time she returns my fervor completely, and our tongues probe while moans emanate from her.
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He asks about my intimate grooming, and I am immediately aware of the feeling of the lace fabric against my bare vulva. The landing strip makes me feel sexy and yet dirty. I love this feeling. As I describe how I explained it to my husband, a pang of guilt hits me. I don’t try to squelch it but rather allow it to penetrate and then pass through me, and let it go completely and watch it dissolve in the afternoon air.
He is standing above me now. I can see his manhood straining against the fabric of his slacks. A jolt of electricity hits my clit and I leak into my thong. He bends toward me and I open my mouth to accept his saliva. It both disgusts me and unleashes my inner slut. I am completely lost in him already.
The slightest nod, and I obediently unbuckle his belt and lower his zipper. I gasp. His cock is more rigid than ever, and a drop of precum already dangles from its tip. I don’t hesitate in taking him completely into my mouth. His hands find the back of my head and force me down, his shaft penetrating deep into my throat until I am about to gag. I come up for air and he forces me back down on him. His hands are unzipping my dress and he pushes it down over my shoulders. He pinches my hard nipples through the sheer fabric of my bra, twisting them. I let out a muffled yelp as the pain tears through me. In one deft move he unhooks the bra and eases the straps off my shoulders, freeing my breasts. It feels wonderful, him exposing me bit by bit this way.
My eyes are watering and saliva is puddling on the hardwood floor. I am kneeling now and don’t recall how I got this way. My hands are instinctively clasped behind my back. My mouth is his fuck hole now and he pounds it roughly. My pussy throbs as he continues to torture my nipples. A sudden panic hits me – his rough treatment of them is leaving incriminating evidence. I briefly consider it – I don’t care. I am consumed now; nothing matters except this man, this moment.
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She is attacking my cock ferociously. There is drool, saliva everywhere. How far she has come from that first timid attempt to go down on me. I didn’t so much have to teach her as to let her inner slut free of its cage. The rapidity and intensity of her learning curve was frightening and exciting. I indulge myself for long enough and pull out of her. I stand her up and remove her dress and bra completely. Her mascara, so carefully applied at home, is smeared, her hair an exquisite mess. She is gasping. I place her on the desk and spread her legs. Her carefully groomed womanhood is visible through the lace, and I move the fabric aside to shove two fingers into her wet snatch. I begin to fuck her vigorously, my thumb rubbing her clit while my fingertips find her g-spot. In no time I am rewarded with a scream and a fountain of fluid from her. I rub my hand across her drenched mid section and smear it over her face, shoving my fingers in her mouth. She needs no command to clean them.
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Oh god, he’s made me squirt already. My body betrays my lust. The room is already spinning. He is smearing my face with my cum and I hungrily lick his beautiful fingers clean. As I gather myself he steps quickly out of his clothes, standing before me in naked glory, his cock pointing at me like a weapon. He leans in and kisses me, and I return his kiss with a ferocity that frightens me. My need is desperate. He slides my thong off and stands between my legs, which are stretched as wide as my body allows. I am open to him now, completely vulnerable.
He gazes into my eyes. “You are so sexy,” he whispers in my ear and his fingernails trace a light path down my body, from my shoulders down my arms, across my hips to the inside of my thighs, down my calves to my ankles and back up again, skirting my pussy and up my belly and across my aching breasts before finishing up my neck, under my chin, and across my cheeks. He repeats the journey and shocks run through my body. My cunt is leaking profusely now, and I beg him.
“Please.”
“Please, what?” he responds playfully.
“Please, fuck me. I beg you.”
He teases me by sliding his cock head up and down my engorged lips. “Are you sure?”
I respond in a whimper of desperation. “I’ve been waiting for this ever since last week. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. I need your cock. I need you inside me.”
He presses closer, rubbing the underside of his shaft up and down my labia, coating it in my juices. He slaps his rigid member against my clit. The sensation drives me to hysteria. “You understand the consequences this time,” he says forcefully.
I respond by locking onto his gaze, grabbing his hips, and pulling him into me. His cock is so hard it feels like it is going to rip me in two. He buries himself deep, and I can feel him hitting my cervix. The joining of our bodies after a week of lonesome agony brings tears to my eyes.
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She is beyond wet and warm. Drenched and hot is the sensation as her body accepts mine. My eyes unlock from hers to take in the vision below me. Her legs spread wide in welcome. Her flat abdomen setting off her perfectly proportioned B-cup breasts. Her pert nipples erect and elongated. The sight of my cock glistening with her as I pick up pace and slam myself into her over and over. The perfectly manicured little strip of pubic hair the only marking on her otherwise smooth and bare body. I think about the deception she practiced for me as I gaze on that handiwork, and it increases my lust. I begin to pound her with an animal intensity, each thrust eliciting a guttural grunt from her.
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He is fucking me hard now, harder than I’ve ever been fucked in my life. This is what I need, this is what has dominated my thoughts for the past week. I am utterly his now. Everything in my vision swims before me. There is only us. He feels so perfect inside me. My body aches for this. His hips slamming into me will no doubt leave bruises. I care not. All I want is his cum. Inside me, filling me, shooting deep into my most inner, forbidden recesses.
I wrestled with this, with my conscience fighting my animal desire. Having decided firmly to take this fateful step across yet another threshold of intimacy, of infidelity, of deceit, I have come here to be in this moment. And yet, even until I stepped into this suite, I was unsure whether I would indeed go through with it. But now, all doubts are cast aside. My subconscious has taken over, and I spread my legs even wider in submission and acceptance, willing him to go even deeper, to claim me as his.
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I build to the brink and slow the pace, edging myself repeatedly. Each wave approaches a higher crest than the last one. I am near the point of no return, that glorious moment when orgasm is imminent and unstoppable, the agony of pending release focusing my entire being toward my pending climax. Her face is twisted in agony of her own, her body flushed red, her breasts bruised where I have slapped and twisted them. As I ready for one final series of thrusts, I pierce her eyes with mine, wordlessly giving her one last chance to reconsider.
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I know his release is approaching. His deep, dark, mesmerizing eyes gaze into my soul and I know the signal. He is granting me the option of turning back. I lock my legs around the small of his back and my pleading echoes off the suite walls.
“Cum for me. Cum inside me. Please, I want to feel you shooting your seed into my womb. Oh god, give me your cum. Please, please, please.”
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A week’s worth of cum is poised to explode from me. I have my answer. I ride the crest of the wave for as long as I can, feeling the impending eruption build until the first violent spasm sends my essence deep into her.
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I feel his cock swell, and a small eternity passes before he cries out and the first jet of his jism shoots all the way up into me. It is followed by another, and another, and I lose control, the sensation of him coating my womb causing my body to release violently. My orgasm hits like a freight train, my body trashing and writhing. The first spurt causes me to scream out – my “Fuck” echoing off the walls of the suite. As he continues to erupt, all I can scream out, over and over, is “Yes, Yes, Yes.”
I lose count of how many times he erupts in me. My legs are clamped around him. I don’t want to let go of him, of this moment. Suddenly I am crying uncontrollably, my body heaving with sobs as another orgasm tears through me. I am completely destroyed.
I have never been happier.
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I am kissing her now, tenderly. I stroke the soft skin of her face and take in all the beauty, inner and outer, of her. I am overcome by tenderness. She has accepted my ultimate gift without hesitation, our erotic coupling almost perfect on this early afternoon as sunlight streams through the windows.
I could fall in love with her. Best not to think of that right now.
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He gently takes my hand and leads me back toward the sitting area. His cum begins to leak out of me, dribbling down my thighs.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
“Starved,” comes my quick answer.
“Come then, let’s order some food. How much time do you have?”
Just then, my phone buzzes. I instinctively glance over and see a text from my husband.
“Sorry, have just been called to a client dinner. I won’t be home until late.”
I smile and my heart swells. Stealing a glance at the luxuriously appointed and completely undisturbed bed, my belly tightens and my body begins to tingle in anticipation.
“I’ve got all day.”
