She was sitting in one of the two deep, mahogany coloured leather chairs positioned by the fire in the Hunt Club, a long white cigarette dangling carelessly from her slim, manicured fingers, when I first saw her. When I first fell in lust with her, rather. Her red slingback stiletto heels dangled from her stockinged feet, and her red silk sheath dress had slipped up just enough to reveal a hint of the lace tops of those stockings.

She appeared to be waiting on someone, but had the look of someone who had been waiting just a little too long for that someone to arrive--her startlingly dark brown hair, pinned up in a French twist, was slightly disheveled, as if she’d been running those beautiful fingers through it whilst waiting, and two empty rocks glasses on the small oak table chairside indicated that either she was a fast drinker or that she had had more than adequate time to sip down the Islay that had once filled them.

I preferred to believe the latter. I watched her take a long drag on the cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly through her glossed red lips, tapping the ashes off into a cut crystal ashtray that had been set beside the rocks glasses. My heart seemed to stop for a moment, watching her lips close around that cigarette, and my mind instantly leapt to visions of those lips closing around my rapidly hardening cock.

“Would you like to order the lady a drink, sir?” said a voice, startling me from my reverie. I turned to the Sorrento staff member from whence the query came, and indicated that yes, I would, and that I would like one of whatever she was having, as well. The drinks appeared almost as soon as I had ordered them, and I took a deep breath and walked towards the empty chair across from this beauty, this vision swathed in smoke and silk.

Sitting down in the chair opposite hers, placing her drink carefully on the table beside her, holding mine close, knowing I was going to need a bit of liquid courage to go through with this, I smiled at her and said, “Is this seat taken?” She looked up at me, her hazelish green eyes widening as though abruptly aware of my presence, and shook her head no whilst taking another drag on that cigarette, now stained red with her lipgloss.

“Thank you for the drink, love.”

That was all she said, but her eyes--her eyes. They appraised me from head to toe, taking in everything from the greying at my temples to the cut of my suit to the gold signet ring on my right ring finger. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that those eyes could see right into my very thoughts, which right about now were decidedly impure.

I set my drink down on the centre table and leaned forward, inhaling her intoxicating scent of some kind of soft floral scent and cigarette smoke.

“It was my pleasure. Are you waiting for someone, shall I leave?”

“Yes, I am waiting on someone, but please, keep me company whilst I wait?”

She uncrossed her impossibly long legs and I took in a sharp breath as the tops of her black stockings where they met the translucent white of her thighs were briefly revealed to me. She looked up at me, and for a terrifying moment, I thought she was going to tell me to leave, but instead, a slightly wicked smile crossed her full lips.

“Like what you see, love?”

Oh God. All the blood in my brain suddenly seemed to have rushed to my pelvic region, and I was quite certain that she could see the surely obvious bulge in my trousers. What to say? My mind hurried and scurried about, searching itself for a suitable answer. Come on, Ian, come up with something.

“Very much so, yes. I would like to see more, if you would be so kind as to escort me to my room.”

There. There it was. The words hung in the air between us, suspended by my astonishment at my own forwardness and what seemed like an interminable wait for her response. She gazed at me, took a long drag on her cigarette, stubbed it out in the cut crystal ashtray, and, reaching forward and putting her left hand on my right knee, her deep, pale cleavage spilling out of her red silk dress, said the most beautiful words I have ever heard.

“I would be delighted, love.”

Breathing harder now, I stood and offered her my hand, making only the weakest of attempts to hide my erection, straining now at the woolen restraint of my suit trousers. She took my hand in hers, soft, cool skin against my rougher, definitely warmer skin. She slipped her feet back into her stilettos and stood, stepping close to me, pressing her lips to my ear and whispering, “Aren’t you wondering for whom I was waiting?”

Startled back to reality by this comment, I nodded dumbly. “I was waiting for you, love.”

She took out another long white cigarette while I processed this comment, lighting it with a sterling silver Zippo lighter, returning the lighter to her purse, taking a deep drag on the cigarette, exhaling slowly, enveloping me in her smoke. Oh God, those lips...

“I’m Amy. You are?”

“Ian. I’m Ian O’Connell.” I had to say it twice, as if I needed reassurance that it was really me, Ian O’Connell, inviting this goddess, this marvel of the female sex, back to my room.

“It is a pleasure, Ian. Now, you were saying something about needing to be escorted back to your room?”

She took another slow drag on the cigarette, and something inside of me trembled, knowing what was to come. Her hand again in mine, we started towards the lifts. My hand shook a bit as I pressed the button for my floor, and as the doors closed behind us, I turned to her, placing my hands on her wide hips and pulling her towards me, desperate to touch her, to make her real.

The lift reached my floor entirely too soon, the doors opening to the long, plushly carpeted hallway. We stepped out, my left arm now wrapped around her slender, soft waist, and began to walk towards my room. She took a drag on the cigarette, turned to me and, laughing, said, “It appears that you quite know your way, Ian O’Connell.” Her laugh only served to make me harder, and I gripped her tightly by the waist as we arrived at my room.

I swiped the keycard and pushed the door open, staring at her ass, the red silk clinging to every curve, as she passed me and proceeded to sit down on the bed, legs slightly parted. I shut the door quickly behind myself, walking over and, standing between her spread legs, kissed her on the top of her head, inhaling her perfume and the faint floral scent of her shampoo.

She took another drag on her cigarette, looked up at me, exhaled smoke into my face, and stood, reaching over to stub out the cigarette in the cut crystal ashtray on the bedside table.

“I think you wanted more than an escort to your room, Ian. I know I do.”

Her words fell on me like a beam of bright sunlight, strong and stunning and welcoming all at once. I began nuzzling and kissing her left ear, sucking and biting the earlobe, her suddenly irregular breathing and the feeling of her heavy breasts pressing into me egging me on. Kissing down her jawline to her mouth, I found the zipper on the dress and pulled it down, the silk slipping from her shoulders and pooling at her feet on the floor. She kicked it aside, sending her stiletto heels flying as well.

I broke the kiss and stepped back, taking in her flushed face, the beautiful, pale swell of her breasts above the black lace of her balconette bra, and finally, the thin black lace panties covering her sex. She stood quite still, watching me watching her, and then stepped towards me, whispering, “Ian O’Connell, I do believe that you are overdressed for the occasion.”

Kissing me hard on the mouth, those beautiful lips parting to allow me a taste of her desire, she removed my suit coat and threw it carelessly onto an overstuffed armchair, then began fumbling with my belt buckle, her hands glancing over my cock as she did so, driving me to kiss her harder, pushing her back towards the bed. Finally--finally!--the belt came loose and with a single impatient yank, she pulled off my suit trousers and black watch plaid boxer briefs and tossed them aside, to land atop my suit coat on the chair.

I heard and felt her sharp intake of breath as my cock sprang free of its confines and she wrapped her left hand around it, stroking it gently. She broke our kiss and fell to her knees, her mouth, that beautiful mouth, just centimetres from the head, blowing softly over my precum coated tip. She looked up at me, smiled, and then everything went fuzzy as she parted her lips and took me, all of me, balls deep into her mouth and throat, swirling her tongue up and down the length of my shaft, probing gently at the slit, lapping up my precum like an eager kitten at a bowl of milk.

“Amy…” I groaned with pleasure, unable to form an intelligible sentence. “Amy...please…”

She looked up at me, my cock buried impossibly deep in her warm, wet, welcoming mouth, saliva and precum dripping from those red lips, dribbling along her jawline to fall from her chin onto the pillow soft carpet. Removing her hands from my hips, she slowly slid me out of her mouth, her hands following along in a slow twisting motion, coating my cock in her saliva, flicking her tongue out to catch a drop of precum as it tried to escape her lips. She was so startlingly beautiful in that instant, saliva and precum coating her lips and cheeks and chin, a wisp of dark brown hair fallen from its place in her French twist, now caught against her left cheek by the wetness lingering there.

“Please what, Ian?” Oh God, did I want her. I wanted to kiss lick nibble every inch of her, wanted to literally consume her, wanted to fuck her so that she would never want to be fucked by anyone else ever again, wanted to be the best she had ever had or ever would have. In answer to her question, I pulled her up to a standing position, kissing her sloppily, tasting myself on her mouth, my hands roaming over her perfect, round ass, fingers finding the edges of the black lace panties covering what I coveted. Hooking my fingers around either side, pulling down those panties to her knees, pressing my impossibly hard cock against her slick wetness, oh God, pushing her down onto the bed, pulling the panties, wet with her want, all the way off and tossing them aside.

I stood there for a moment, gazing down at my newly found prize, and as I stood I stroked my cock, her green eyes watching my every stroke. My cock throbbed in my hand as I watched her draw her long legs up and slowly, teasingly, let them fall open, revealing the swollen slick pink gash of her sex.

“Bra off, Amy.” She smiled up at me, sat up a bit, reached behind herself, unclasped her black lace bra, and tossed it at me. My breathing became suddenly even more irregular at the sight of her large, heavy, pale breasts and rose pink nipples lying in wait for my mouth.

“Anything else you want, Ian?” she asked, surely already knowing the answer. I couldn’t hold myself back any longer, I had to have her, had to take her. I clambered onto the bed, my weight on my elbows, kissing sucking biting her neck clavicles tits nipples furiously. She wrapped those long legs around my waist and oh God I felt the tip of my quivering cock at her entrance, and then...oh fuck her pussy was so tight, it felt like it was pulling me in, her hands on my ass pressing my hips into hers. I knew I was not going to last long like this, knew that I was not man enough in the face of this fury of sex, and began thrusting hard and fast into her.

She buried her face in my left shoulder, biting me, stifling her moans, lifting her hips to meet my every thrust. I could feel her cunt tightening around my cock, knew that she was fighting off her own orgasm, and with one final deep thrust I lost it, exploding inside of her as her orgasm swept through her body.

Rolling off of her, breathing hard, I lay there next to her, trying to process the last few hours, to no avail. She at nuzzled my neck, murmuring her affections, and then sat up abruptly. I sat up too, wondering if perhaps she wanted to shower together, but that was not her intent. She stood, walked to her purse, set just inside the door, and fished out a single white cigarette and the sterling silver lighter. Sitting back down on the bed, she lit the cigarette and snapped the lighter shut, smoke wreathing her face like a veil.

She stood again, this time picking up her clothing, slipping her dress back on but stuffing the bra and panties into her purse, slipping on those red stilettos, all the while taking slow drags on her cigarette, watching me watch her. Finally, she picked up her purse, strode across the room towards me, leaned down, and whispered into my ear, her lips touching and teasing my skin.

“Thank you, Ian. I’d stay, but I’ve a dinner date with my husband in fifteen minutes.”

And with that, she turned and strode purposefully down the hallway and out the door, leaving me to wonder what had just come to pass, and to marvel at the strange coincidences of the Sorrento Hotel.