He sat, waiting.

Nervously, he glanced around the room. Another hotel, chosen for its vagueness, and its un-remarkability. It was cheap, and yet sufficient; A bed, a desk, a small room with a shower. The carpet was a faded blue, the walls an old cream. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers rested on the stale fabric of the quilt.

Silence, and yet more silence. His heart hammered. His head full of doubts and fears. What if she didn't come? What if it had all been a mistake? Over and over, around and around, the thoughts tumbled.

And so, he sat, waiting.

He closed his eyes, and flopped back on the bed. Memories over took him, he remembered her hair, the feel of her hand in his. He remembered the way she smiled, and the laughter of her voice. She was older then he was, with two kids and a husband. He was Twenty-Four, single, wanting something more with someone closer to his age, and yet something about those eyes had captivated him. They met while he was working with her company for a few weeks. The attraction had been instant, though neither knew why. Perhaps it was the smile, or the humour. Perhaps it was the conversation, or perhaps it was purely a physical attraction. Whatever the reason, the tension was noticeable. Even a few of their colleagues joked, but no one expected anything. Neither did he, till the last weekend, when during a group social she had made the offer.

Her husband was away on work, kids with family. Did he want to come over for Chinese and a cheesy film that night? When he noticed she didn't invite anyone else, he kept quiet. He knew the reason. Later that evening, after a long shower and a shave, he began to think through the implications of what the night may bring.

And so then, just like now, he sat, and waited.

When he got to her house that night, they walked together to the local Chinese to pick up the food. That much had been true. As they walked back they shared stories, laughing. Settling in the living room, they began to eat, movie forgotten, conversation filling the air. Slowly, the flirting began and the tension began to mount.

When she stood to show him pictures on the computer from the social earlier, he stood behind her. One of his hands gently stroked her neck. When she leaned back against him, her body pressed against his, his arms instinctively wrapped around her. His mouth found her neck, and she let out a long, low, sigh. Standing behind her, his hands roamed her body, her hands reaching back and cupping his head, as his lips danced against her neck. When he finally dared to cup her breasts, her arousal became audible. Suddenly, she turned, and they kissed, long and hard. Their tongues danced against each-others, bodies melding together. When the kiss broke, she took his hand and led him upstairs.

The curtains were closed, making the room cool compared to the heat of the day. They fell on the bed, laughter giving way to lust, lust giving strength to passion. As they kissed, hands roamed, clothes were removed and what was hidden was revealed.

When her bra finally fell, he sat and stared in wonder. Her breasts were large, full, a little sag, but beautiful. Her nipples were erect, hard, and when he lowered his mouth they seemed to taste sweet. Laid on the bed, her eyes closed, her mouth open, as she enjoyed the sensations. He realised just how beautiful she was.

Smiling, he leaned over and once again. He resumed sucking on her breast, first, one nipple, then the other. Eager to make sure her other nipple was not neglected; his hand toyed, teased and twisted it. As she moaned, his hands wandered from breast down to her waistband, pushing under the skirt.

His fingers grazed across the fabric of her panties. Gently, he began to stroke her slit through the material, as he continued to suck on her nipples. Her hands ran through his hair and over his back. Her breathing became more urgent, her actions more insistent.

“You’re teasing me,” she panted, and he smiled then.

Hooking a finger under the material, he pulled her wet panties to the side; briefly savouring the feeling of running his finger along the length of her hot pussy. He suddenly thrust a finger deep into her. Warmth surrounded, as he curled his finger to stroke the inside of her saturated pussy. Slowly, and surely, he set to work. He fingered her, slowly building speed, steadily increasing tempo. His mouth continued to move from nipple to nipple, her breathing becoming faster.

When her hips started to lift in time with the thrusts, he knew then that she would come soon. And still he continued. When she gasped that she was close, he moved to kiss her, and as her orgasm hit, she screamed into his mouth. Their tongues thrashing together, as his fingers pumped rapidly in and out, in and out, in and out...

And then it was silent.

His fingers still slowly moved inside her pussy. Their lips still close, kissing. The last few shudders of her orgasm rolled through her.

And together, they sat, and they waited.

When she looked at him and grinned, he removed his fingers. He wrapped his arms around her again. Their kiss, gentle at first, began to reflect his hunger, his need. Standing suddenly, he removed the remainder of his clothes; his trousers and boxers discarded. He stood naked, his cock standing erect and proud before her.

With a wicked gleam in her eye, she sat and grabbed his cock and pulled him towards her. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she sat up.

“Well now, someone needs seeing to,” He heard the mischief in her voice, and couldn't help but grin.

Standing before her, his cock bobbing, he watched as she curled her hand around his shaft. With a look of lust, she flicked her tongue over his cock head. His hands moved to her head, fingers running through her hair, as she began to lick and kiss and suck. Her hands gripped his arse, keeping him close, keeping control. The sound of her slurping filled the room, his moans mingling with the intensity of the experience.

She pulled her head away from his cock. He found himself captivated by a strand of saliva that ran from his helmet to her mouth. The look in her eyes was of satisfaction mixed with need.

Pulling him down onto the bed, he rolled onto his back as she mounted him. Kneeling above him, he grabbed his cock and watched as she lowered herself. Slowly, so slowly, the folds of her pussy parted, as his cock began to penetrate. The heat, the warmth, the tightness; he feared it would be too much. But slowly, oh so slowly, she continued to lower herself.

His hands flew to her breasts, pulling, groping, teasing and twisting. Slowly, she began to rise and fall on him. His cock sliding in and out of her wet, beautiful pussy. The world became no bigger than that room and that bed. Steadily, she began to speed up, sensations lead to trembling awareness that she was close, oh so close.

The look on his face told her everything she needed to know. Their faces were red, eyes closed and mouths open. His hands still on her breasts, and then on her hips. His own hips rising to slam into her as his orgasm approached. The sudden change in pace and intensity pulled her to the edge. Her own hands flew to her breasts. Her fingers pulling hard on her nipples just like he had. Her moans became a long, low scream, as her orgasm threatened to overtake her. She felt him thrust and swell and then...

Light.

It was the only way he could explain it. It was an orgasm, yes, but one so intense that it took him by surprise. Joined together, their orgasms crashed through them both. And there they remained, riding out the orgasm, together, in light.

He sighed. The memories were still there. He feared they may have been tarnished by the passing of time. He had to know for sure, so they were to meet again. Or so he hoped.

And so, in his hotel room, his phone heavy in his hand;

He sat, waiting.