Wandering through the ornate lobby of the Dorchester Hotel shortly after nightfall, Amanda Bayliss was a bit overwhelmed by the opulent furniture, furnishings, and artwork all around her. It was quite excessive in her opinion, much like the museums through which her parents had dragged her earlier in the day. When she had learned that they would be spending a few days in London, a quick vacation tacked on to her father's business trip, she had thought of double-decker buses, tall fuzzy hats on palace guards, and “mind the gap” announcements. Following prim and proper uniformed guides past endless roped-off artifacts didn't really meet her expectations; even so, she had to admit that she was impressed. The historical, architectural, and artistic significances were lost on her, but the lavish décor of the earlier tours was a sight to behold, and the hotel measured up to anything she had encountered since their arrival.

Tonight, her dad was gone to a business function till after midnight, and her mom was wiped out from jet lag and their activities, probably asleep by now in their posh suite. She had convinced her mom to let her walk around a bit, but had to promise to stay in the hotel. The freedom to explore on her own terms was an acceptable way to entertain herself for a while.

Opening the alternative app she and her friends had installed outside of their phones' default messaging apps, she tapped on the latest from three hours ago. Kara had tried to convince her things were better at home, lounging in the Georgia sun at a friend's pool.

Mandy: yea, it's raining here, i think it always does

The reply immediately came back.

Kara: wtf, are you up? Isnt it like 3 in the morning?

Mandy: not even 10pm. dumbass, its only 5 hours different

Kara: oh yea, thought it was more. You at the hotel, or out clubbing? lol

Mandy: drinking age here is 18, wont be there till November, thx for reminding me

Kara: drinking age here is 'whatev'. Kevin scored beer and tequila

Kara: Steph had a few. Adam undid her bikini string, perv. Maybe she liked it, jiggled her tits for a sec b4 putting them away. lmao

Mandy: pics, or it didn't happen!

Kara: wish you were with ur classy friends tonite? :)

Mandy: miss u xxx. this hotel is bougie af tho

Kara: yea? Send some pics

Amanda snapped a few pics of the lobby, including the front desk. The cute Spanish-looking guy with the vest and cap, grabbing luggage, made it into a picture, although a bit blurry. She sent the pics to Kara.

Mandy: they have a pillow menu too. Pick how squishy you want your pillow like ur ordering a steak

Kara: that ur new bf with the bags?

Kara: maybe he can help with pillows, lol

As Amanda walked down a long hallway toward meeting rooms and ballrooms, the artwork became less painting and more sculpture, the kind with ladies' bare boobs. And a bit further, a muscular man's sculpted privates were, well, not so private. She sent his pic to Kara.

Mandy: nah, this is my new bf

Kara: dont worry, it gets bigger when it gets hard

Mandy covered her mouth to stifle her laugh.

Mandy: hes always hard! lol

She sent a selfie of her touching the statue's penis. Fuck, now she was thinking about hard dicks. Truth be told, she had been thinking of hard dicks before she left her room, which is why she had left her panties up there. She felt super-naughty as she twisted her hips, feeling cool air swishing inside her skirt.

Another selfie followed, one of her with her mouth open and tongue out, with the statue's penis right in line behind it.

Kara: ha, you wish

Mandy loved her friend, the two having known each other since middle school. But Kara was sometimes an arrogant bitch about sex stuff, proudly relating a few times she'd gotten laid but even refusing to believe Mandy's accounts. The pool comments from earlier brought to mind their topless sunbathing experiences together, which should have clued Kara in that Mandy wasn't a prude. Whom they fucked, and how often, shouldn't be a contest, but Kara treated it that way too often.

Mandy pushed on a few ballroom doors, and one swung open a few inches. Wandering into the middle of the cavernous room, dim lights and eerie silence assured her that no one else was around. She crept up a set of polished wooden steps, parting the curtain, and found herself on kind of a stage set up as a seating area with two large puffy antique-looking sofas each flanked by two matching large stuffed high-backed chairs.

Amanda had masturbated in the shower that morning, but hadn't had enough time to make herself cum, so it had been before the family left home since she'd had her last orgasm. No wonder she was feeling horny, and images of the front desk guy and the statue's naked dick were adding to her arousal.

When she had taken trips in the car with her parents in the past, she had hidden her little purple dildo in the lining of her suitcase, but for this trip, there was no way she was going to risk the baggage scanners showing her sex toy to a crowd at the airport. So, here she was inside of the perfect naughty self-pleasure space, plenty horny enough to get herself off, but without anything to insert into her vagina.

A muscular hunk like Naked Statue Man would be ideal, and Front Desk Guy wouldn't be bad either. Images in her mind wouldn't do; she wanted some real, live inspiration, and wasn't going to get it by creeping around in empty rooms. She had heard of women masturbating in public while everyone around them was oblivious. Could she do such a thing? She had to try, so she headed toward the lobby.

Seating herself in one of the armchairs in the carpeted lounge area, she had a good view of the buzz of activity around the nearby restaurant and bar while she pretended to mess with her phone. Right away, that view featured a handsome man sitting alone at one of the high-top bar tables, sipping a drink, glancing up at the pretty sportscaster on the television. He was maybe close to her parents' age, with a neatly trimmed light beard, nice-fitting slacks, and a tailored burgundy shirt, the perfect sight to masturbate to.

Amanda's hand was inside her skirt, but the way her legs were set sideways, she could hide her movements. As long as her shoulder and elbow stayed still, she could use just her wrist and fingers to caress her labia, trace up and down her slit, and push a finger inside.

Just as she wasn't really attentive to her screen, the man wasn't really engaged with his, either. As their gaze met each other's periodically, Mandy was probing her juicy vagina, beginning to feel the stiffness of her swelling clit on her up-strokes.

By now, Amanda wasn't content just to masturbate while watching someone. She wanted to get fucked.  If her little purple friend wasn't available to fill her needy pussy right now, maybe a real cock was. She wasn't the prude Kara thought she was. Before she could tell herself not to, she shifted in her seat so that she faced directly toward the man. The next time he looked her way, she drew in a nervous breath, and opened her legs.

If there was any doubt that the man could see right up her skirt between her legs, his facial expression removed that doubt. Half smiling, half gasping, his eyes widened. Glancing down, she could see the slit of her pussy peeking out from the fuzz of light-colored pubic hair. There was nothing hidden in the shadows – it was kind of shocking for her to see her womanhood displayed plainly in the light, and more than kind of exciting.

The whole initial display only lasted five seconds, but felt like five minutes to her. When he had composed himself after her legs closed, he raised his glass to her, smiled, and knocked back the rest of his drink.

She gave a little laugh, half-embarrassed but fully aroused. At this point, she was so ready for some dick that she knew the only way was forward. Opening her legs for another five seconds, this time she glided a finger up and down her slit, dipping inside while he stared.

She didn't stop when he got up and walked into the bar, because she could still see his burgundy shirt. She only stopped when he approached her with two fresh drinks.

“Good evening, young lady,” he greeted her, setting the drinks on the table beside her. His accent was not British, maybe German, she had no idea. After sitting in a chair he pulled up close and said something appreciative about the wonderful view she had just afforded him, he pushed the clear, fizzy cocktail toward her. “I had to buy a lovely lady a drink. You did something nice for me, so I do something nice for you.”

“Thank you.” She replied, determined to keep her voice from squeaking with excitement. “What am I drinking?”

“Gin and tonic. Bombay Sapphire suits you.” He smiled as she took her first sip, which was stronger and more bitter than she expected. “A double.”

“Mmm, lovely.” She took another sip. It was almost like drinking liquid flowers and lemon with a hint of sweetness. She wanted to like it, and did enjoy the tingle. She imagined herself getting used to gin and tonics, and couldn't help but smugly judge her friends' piss-colored beer back home against her classy cocktail.

The conversation was awkward, unsurprisingly. He was a European in at least his late thirties, and she was an American teenager, so they had nothing in common outside of their desire to hurry with their drinks and get on to the proposition of anonymous sex. They avoided each other's questions while they attempted to make small talk, either lying or redirecting when asked about what they were doing in London, with whom. She was not about to reveal that she was under drinking age on vacation with her parents, but the fact that he was there with his wife was unavoidable when the subject of going to his room surfaced. Somewhere along the way, he confirmed that she wasn't a prostitute. Or do they call them “escorts” in five-star hotels?

He stood, taking her hand. “I'm sure we can find somewhere quick.”

“But not too quick. I'm not doing it without a condom.” At least she had the sense not to risk a stranger in a hotel getting her pregnant or giving her some STD.

“Well, miss, I don't seem to have one,” he said, reaching into his pockets.

“I'm sure you can get one.” Her smile was more than teasing, almost bitchy. “Quick.”

“How about a blowjob? And I get you off with my magic fingers.”

Amanda had sucked each of her previous two boyfriends' dicks, a little, but after she had gotten to know them and after they had washed. Besides, she wanted her pussy filled. She could finger herself. No deal.

He agreed that he'd ask the front desk where he could get “personal items” that he'd forgotten to pack, and rather than settle for a storage closet or the parking garage, she invited him to her spot behind the curtain in the ballroom. “Last one on the right. See you there soon.”

It took a few minutes after Amanda got settled on her couch, but eventually, she heard the creak of the ballroom door and subsequent footsteps, and then his handsome bearded face poked through the curtains.

“Better than a closet?” she teased.

“Much better.” He held out his hand, letting a two-pack of condoms dangle from his fingers, taking a seat against her. His kiss was aggressive, but passionate, not rough, but plenty needy. She leaned into him, feeding him her tongue, while he lightly clutched a breast.

With few words between them, she hiked her skirt up to expose her crotch. While he slid his fingers up and down her slit, and swirled them in her pubic hair, she hastily unbuttoned her shirt. He tugged a bra strap down and attached his mouth to the nipple as his finger entered her vagina.

“Mmm,” Mandy moaned, wiggling and bucking her hips. “Mmm, fuuuuck.”

“Oh, you like it? At the bar, your pussy looked like it needed this.”

“Or something bigger,” Amanda giggled. She didn't need to be prepped. She needed to be fucked. She wiggled the other strap down, unclasped her bra, and after digging her heels into the couch to pry her shoes off, all that remained was her skirt. “You can't fuck me with your pants on,” she breathed hotly at him while scooting out from under his grasp to unbutton and unzip her skirt.

When the man stood, Amanda kicked her skirt free, totally naked now. They helped each other pull down his pants and boxer briefs, his cock bouncing into view. She had heard about young girls in porn getting hammered and stretched by huge nine-inch cocks as big around as their wrists, but this guy wasn't close to that. As she stroked it, though, it did quickly grow to be fatter than any of the dicks of the boys her age she had fucked.

After he removed his shirt, they were both fine with skipping any more foreplay and going right to the condom rolling. Climbing between her spread-open legs and positioning himself on top of her, the man smiled, holding his dick so that the tip nestled inside Amanda's labia. “Well, since you're ready.”

“Ooof,” Mandy gasped as she felt his weight settle on her and his cock push inside.

He withdrew a bit, looking into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah. Do it again.” A stressed look remained on her face for two more strokes, and then she relaxed. She wasn't a slut by any means, but this wasn't new to her, either. This was her first man, though, so she didn't know what to expect from his maturity and power. Even though his dick was fatter than she was used to, she surprisingly wasn't being hurt or “stretched” as the porn cliches had exaggerated; she just felt fuller.

“Mmm, oh, yes,” Amanda moaned softly, working her hips, feeling the man's cock sliding smoothly in and out of her. Arms around his shoulders, she whispered, “All the way in.” He was taking it easy, but she didn't want him to.

Her moans and movements, thrusting her hips forward and grabbing at his shoulders and ass, convinced him to pump her full of longer, deeper strokes. As her legs spread wider and she pulled her knees up higher to welcome his cock's intrusion, she laughed at the sensation of his balls bouncing heavily against her ass. Her dildo couldn't do that!

When he kissed her, she smelled and tasted his drinks on him, which made her aware of the effect the Bombay was having on her. As he worked her mouth with confidence, his neatly trimmed beard was rough, but pleasantly so, increasing her excitement. Her first big-girl drink and her first big-girl fuck with a real man. What a night!

She felt empty when he backed out of her. After grabbing her hand and pulling her toward him so that she was sitting, a dozen frenzied, open-mouthed kisses betrayed the raw desire he had for her.

“Such pretty hair,” he said, burying his face in her tresses and breathing deeply. “So soft.” He stroked it into a ponytail as he tickled her neck with tongue kisses. She stroked his cock to reward his compliments, flipping the floppy condom tip. She never thought her hair was anything but dull, that unremarkable color between blonde and brown, without enough red to be auburn. Wanting to stab everyone who called it “dirty blonde”, she had often considered dyeing it purple or blue.

“Get on me,” he panted. Amanda gladly straddled him and let his manly hands cup, squeeze, and caress her smooth teenage bottom. “Oh, yes, I want to feel your ass.” She had always thought her hips were too narrow, her middle too straight, and her butt too flat. This guy seemed to appreciate her body more than any boy had, though. “Oh, it's so nice.”

Amanda loved the attention, but she came here to get fucked, not fondled. So, she held his dick still while she positioned her pussy lips over the tip and eased down, taking his entire length inside. After a few adjustments, she pumped up and down, even reclining slightly, watching her soft, light-colored pussy hair nestle into his wiry, dark pubes.

He said something evidently in his native language, holding the peak of one of her boobs with just his fingers. Pinching lightly, he continued in English, “Oh, I love your little tits.” He licked one, then the other, while she rode his cock. “So fucking pretty.”

All she'd ever heard about tits gave her the impression that hers didn't measure up. The boys at school ogled and swooned over twelfth-graders Julie Bartley and Veronica de Leon, mesmerized by their double-D's or whatever size they were, and their shared porn clips mostly featured starlets with huge fake ones. Amanda's boobs were that awkward size between A and B cups, conical with puffy nipples rather than full and round, well, like Kara's.

She wasn't going to date this guy, of course, just fuck him. But she resolved that, for a future long-term relationship, she'd shop for a guy who complimented what she had rather than promoting an unattainable image.

Bouncing to get the sharp penetrations she craved, she breathed into his face, “Mmm, give it to me, fuuuuck.”

“Oh, you give it to me, beautiful!” Leaning back, he caressed her thighs, then a nipple, then her lips, before pulling her close again.

His motions and compliments made her feel like a sexy woman, not a fumbling teenager. His cock felt so good filling her, and she couldn't get enough of his solid body and manly face against her chest and shoulder. His strong hands helped shove her ass down into his lap while he raised his hips to thrust up into her.

“You're close, aren't you?” She pumped her hips back and forth, fucking the length of his cock. She didn't have much experience, but she was pretty sure she could recognize the face and the sounds of imminent male orgasm.

“Oh, yes. If you keep doing that.”

“Mmm, oh, yes, fuck, that feels so good!” She didn't really need to moan or breathe this heavily, but she was having fun with it. Riding him hard, she moaned into his ear, noisily, “Mmm, keep going!” She crushed her tits into his chest and ground her cunt down into the base of his cock, his grunting breaths and trembling thighs telling her that he had reached his climax.

She slowed her motions and quieted down after a minute, rising off his lap, feeling the emptiness as his cock withdrew from her vagina. Her wetness had made his pubic hair damp, and his wetness had filled the floppy tip of his condom.

“Wow, that was amazing,” he told her after he caught his breath. “You are so beautiful. Beautiful little tits.” He caressed a puffy nipple.

“Glad you got to feel them?”

“Oh yes. And a beautiful pussy,” he added, dropping his hand to her lap and brushing her soft, damp pubic hair.

Pussies were almost always bald in those porn clips the boys shared. Trying to conform to what she thought was the ideal image, Mandy had shaved hers once, but maintenance was too irritating, so that didn't last. Maybe she didn't need to bother. “Hm, thank you,” was all she managed.

Without much post-coitus kissing and caressing, Amanda stood up and retrieved her purse, using a tissue to wipe her pussy. When he detached his condom and used her tissue to wrap it up, she knew he saw her drop the other condom into her purse, but he didn't seem to mind.

Their dressing and departure were as awkward as their initial conversation. She knew that he had someone to get back to, and informed him that she needed to carry on with her night. By carry on, she meant select “firm” from the pillow menu and hump the shit out of it in her bed upstairs. Sure, she had her own room in the suite, but tonight's session could get noisy, so she just might need a “soft” one to muffle her squeals.

Amanda stood looking at herself in the mirror of the fancy bathroom a minute later. Maybe she should feel guilty about what she had just done, but she didn't. It was liberating and empowering. She could give herself an orgasm any time, but tonight she needed a dick in her, and she claimed one, while being responsible and safe about it. And she provided the release the guy surely needed, so, win-win, right?

Washing the smell of man and pussy off her hands, neck, and thighs, she applied some lotion to mask any remainder. She figured two pieces of mixed berry gum would overpower any alcohol on her breath. Smoothing out her just-got-fucked hair, she was now ready to go back upstairs, hopefully presentable enough in case her mom was awake and confronted her.

Fuck, six new messages from Kara? A few mentions about the pool gathering and more questions about her hotel. The last one was twenty minutes ago.

Kara: guess u called it a nite. catch u tomorrow

Mandy: nope, still here. Will send you pics of the room later

Kara: where u been? crash a party in the penthouse? Any hot guys? Lol

Amanda just about had the nerve to tell Kara what she really had been up to. Maybe a hint first.

Mandy: no party. Yes hot guy

Kara: no fuckin way!!

Mandy: that too

Oh shit, she shouldn't have really sent that one. What did that Bombay drink do to her brain?

Kara: ???

Mandy: horny, totally flashed a guy in the bar area. He bought me a drink and...

Kara: and …??? …

Mandy: we did it in a ballroom. No worries, i made him buy a condom.

Kara: i call bullshit

Kara: pics or it didnt happen

Oh, she did not just say that. Fucking bitch. Why send any more messages to try to convince her friend that she had just picked up a man  – a real man – and fucked him? So what if she didn't believe her. She did it for herself, not to try to prove anything. Fuck her.

She made her way back through the lobby and pushed the elevator button. Reaching into her purse to grab her room key, her fingers retrieved the second condom packet by mistake. The elevator opened and closed, but she didn't get on. She knew what she had to do.

Ten minutes later, Amanda was seated across from the bar area again scrolling through a few friends' instas. Peeking over her screen, her eyes fixed on the guy sliding onto a bar stool at one of the high-top tables. He was nice-looking, clean-shaven, and a few years younger than Beard Man. As she caught his fleeting glances, she just knew he selected his seat so that he had a view of her, so she faced him directly.

He was going to look cute in her pictures. When his eyes met hers, she dragged the hem of her skirt up a few inches and opened her legs.