1 comments/ 15905 views/ 0 favorites Home Away By: JudeWrites I had attended the CeBIT conference before. It was an annual event for my company and over the last few years had become an annual event for me. This year I was less enthusiastic than normal about going to Germany, but I didn't have a good reason to back out. The high tech conference is held every year in Hanover, over five days. It generates a lot of business for my company but the downside is the accommodation. That there are so many visitors that the infrastructure of the town can't handle the influx of people—there is never enough hotel rooms. To alleviate this issue the local people host exhibitor employees and try to leave the available rooms for conference visitors. To me, the thought of living in a stranger's home for a week rather than a hotel room was horrible, but after a couple of years I'd come to appreciate their hospitality and the insight into their lifestyle. It was never going to be home away from home, but it was not the uncomfortable hardship I'd expected. This year I was staying with the Sterne family, Helga and Gregor. They had a son, Frank, and a daughter Inga, who were both at college. Inga had given up her bedroom for me and we all passed the time of day pleasantly as I came and went to the conference and dinner. Basically, I did little more than sleep and shower in their home. The family gushed with kindness, were always accommodating and frequently offering meals that were not required as part of their boarding deal. Once or twice I accepted their offer of dessert when I'd come home from dinner. Helga's lemon cheesecake was as good as anything I'd tasted. The children were also around a lot and enjoyed the opportunity to converse in English, something the parents mostly struggled with. The biggest downside of this year's conference was that the two colleagues I was traveling with were both were taking their spouses on the trip. This didn't make much difference during the day as we manned the show booth and talked to customers, but it was a challenge to find a comfortable routine for dinner. Understandably, they wanted to eat alone, and I didn't. I made it through most of the week hooking up with some old friends and my colleagues but when Saturday night rolled around I had no plan. I walked around the town center for a while, checking out several local restaurants that were overflowing. The last thing I needed was a table for one in the middle of that cacophony. I thought about touring the red light district, even if it would only be for amusement, but decided not to—one tour there was probably enough for my lifetime. In the end I drove back to the Sterne's suburb, found a pizza place and ordered a large pepperoni to go. I wasn't expecting anyone to be at home, but as I fumbled with the key in the unfamiliar lock Inga bounced her way to the door and pulled it open. She was in her early twenties, had short black hair and looked like she'd been studying as she had on some narrow glasses that I wasn't familiar with. "Come in Mr. David." she beamed. "You got pizza?" "Yes," I admitted a little sadly, "The town's very busy for dinner and I had no plans." Inga nodded. Her English, like all of the German students I'd met, was excellent. The funny thing was that most of them spoke with a slight American accent, a product of their watching US TV shows. And I can tell you, from the posters in her bedroom walls, all the clichés about David Hasselhoff being big in Germany, are all true. "Sit down." She indicated the family dining table, where she had several books spread out. "I'll get you a beer. Makes the pizza taste better, no?" This wasn't what I had planned. I'd figured to eat the pizza in the bedroom and catch an early night. My inclination was to turn down her offer, but that seemed somewhat ungrateful and they may not approve of food in their bedrooms. I placed the pizza box on the table and Inga brought a bottle beer and a glass form the refrigerator. I indicated that she should help me consume the pizza, but she declined and set about clearing away her books. I told her not to, but she said she'd studied enough and would prefer to talk with me, practice her English. My heart sank. This was definitely not what I had planned for the evening. In the end, it didn't turn out so badly. She drove the conversation along very well for a non-native speaker and it wasn't a hardship being in her company. Inga was tall and slim with a full figure, happy features and clear, bright eyes that were beautifully expressive. I found myself examining her tight blue jeans closely and wondering what she wore beneath her lime green shirt. She'd taken off the glasses and I thought that when she laughed and screwed up her button nose she looked extremely cute. I tried to shake such thoughts from my mind, figuring they were pointless and would only lead to me masturbating myself to sleep that night. "Tell me about living in America?" Inga asked. She had never crossed the Atlantic and wanted to. She explained that after college she planned a three-month sightseeing trip through Canada and the US. I ran through a bunch of things I thought she should plan to do on her trip and told her about my everyday life. I never thought the daily comings and goings of a Program Manager with a passion for dogs and volleyball was interesting, but she seemed enthralled and hung off my every word, down to needing to know how often I went to Starbucks. Like most people, once I'm engaged in talking about myself, I got more comfortable and started to have fun with Inga. She broke out more beer, one for her this time also, and finally took a piece of pizza, brought it back to life in the microwave and chomped on it as we talked. "So what's with the pizza tonight? Why aren't you out with your friends? Isn't that what you all come for... the beer, the food, and the red light district." I laughed and explained what had happened, that I really was here to work, I could get beer in the US also and that red light districts weren't of much interest to me. She puzzled over this. The attitude to prostitution is a lot more relaxed in continental Europe and the fact that men visit brothels is an accepted fact of life. I told her that it just wasn't something I was used to and had very little interest in. She probed me and I reluctantly admitted that I didn't like the idea of paying for sexual services. "It's no big deal." She shrugged off my reluctance. "Better that a man has somewhere to go and can pay to fulfill his needs than his home life... suffers, or worse, he rapes someone." Not exactly comfortable with where the conversation was going, I shrugged and nodded agreement. Inga was less inhibited though and bolstered her argument, "The brothels are clean, licensed and pay taxes. Say a man is unhappy at home because he doesn't get... a blowjob. Wouldn't it be better that he paid forty dollars for one, than feel bad at home. It's only a blowjob." I almost giggled, enjoying the refreshing attitude. I thought back to my college days and wished I'd heard that statement before—it's only a blowjob. "Yes, yes," I finally agreed, "you have a point. I'm just not used to such a... liberal attitude." Inga smiled gently and her face reverted to a more demure look. "America is supposed to be so... free, but I think we're lucky in this aspect of our freedom." I agreed with her, much as I longed to be back in the US where I could get a good pizza. "I hope your evening wasn't too bad." Inga started to clear away the box and empty bottles. "Did I ask too many questions?" "No." I assured her. In fact, the evening had flown by and it had been fun talking with her. "This was a much better evening than I expected." "And you're not sad about missing out on going to the brothels?" There was a coy look in her eyes now. She knew she was playing with me. "No regrets. Even after hearing your viewpoint." She shook her head and gave me a scornful look. "Maybe you just haven't had a European girl." I weighed up my answer, knowing I was in a place where political correctness was going to be a difficult challenge. "I can't imagine that would make all that much difference, but I'm happy sticking to my guns and live without knowing for sure." Inga stood and considered my statement. I'd hoped that it left her nowhere to go, but she came back with the least expected question I've ever been asked, "What about I give you a blowjob?" There was nothing in her face to suggest she was being anything other than dead serious. I was about to ask if she meant what she said when she added, "That way you won't have to live without knowing." "I... er..." I stammered my way though a hundred thoughts and was hit by a blast of sexual tension ran through the house like a nuclear shockwave. Inga stood there, taking it all in her stride. Not getting the words out, I probably nodded and she reacted immediately. "I'll get another two beers. Shall we go upstairs?" "If you're sure." I said, knowing I sounded lame but not wanting to give up the opportunity not it was apparently real. Inga simply took my elbow and pointed me towards the stairs. Stunned by the matter-of-fact tone that got us to this point, I walked into her room slightly dazed and watched as she hustled around the room, taking my travel bag from her bed and placing it on the floor. When she excused herself and hurried off to the washroom I watched her lithe frame leave with a bounce and looked at my image in the full-length mirror. There was nothing there to suggest that I was an American hunk, irresistible to Inga. The front of my pants had a tell-tale bulge though, so one part of me had no trouble believing this was really happening. When she returned her face was all smiles, but nothing had changed about her mission and her hands were all business. For the first time I got the impression that this was nothing to do with proving a point, and all about having fun. Inga stepped straight up to me and started to unfasten my clothes. "You could get undressed, but I think you'd prefer me to do it, no?" Her eyes looked playfully up at me as she stopped towards the front of my pants. I said nothing. I loved being undressed so wasn't about to disagree with her. She had no trouble with my belt and zipper but before she pulled my pants away she fished in my underwear and took a hold on my cock. While not quite at my peak, I was hard enough for her to nod approvingly as she brought it out. She kept a hand on my shaft while she used the other to ease away my clothes. When I'd stepped out of my pants she asked me to take off my shirt. I complied, unbuttoning it swiftly while she stroked me towards full strength. Once I was naked, Inga motioned me to sit on the bed. Physically I was rock hard in her hands, but emotionally, I was putty. "Do you like blowjobs?" She looked up at me, her shining eyes a delight and her hands gently massaging me. It was probably the most ridiculous question I'd ever been asked, but in her accent it sounded more innocent than it had any right to. "Of course. I love them. I love anything sexual with a woman." And then, given Inga's free attitude, I had a quick vision of handcuffs and added, "Anything normal, at least." "Good," she looked down at my cock in her hands. "Maybe we can mutually benefit from the experience then?" I nodded as she drew her hand all the way up my shaft. "Mutual benefit is always a good thing..." I looked at Inga's happy face just in time to see her plunge her sweet young mouth over the end of my cock. Her mouth was wet and her tongue busy. She clamped her lips around the rim of my cock and ran her tongue all around the head. It felt wonderful and I fell back onto the bed. Her hand gripped the base of my shaft and held me vertical as her magic mouth went to work and had my balls tingling in seconds. "How do you like European girls so far?" Inga came off me and slipped up my body so that her face was directly in front of me. She left her hand behind to continue gently stroking me. "They seem great... so far." She kissed me, her tongue immediately exploring my mouth, just as it had done my cock. I lifted my hand and pushed against her breast, feeling her nipple through the material, unprotected by a bra. "But right now, you have too many clothes on." That situation didn't last long. Inga kissed me again and then stood up. She pulled her shirt over her head to reveal her pert, lively breasts with bigger nipples than I'd imagined. She was about to pull open her jeans when I stopped her. "Let me." I half-asked, half-commanded. Sitting up, I reached over to pull down her zipper, making a slow move all the way down between her thighs. Inga sighed as I undid her jeans and whispered, "Good." As soon as the zipper was undone I eased my fingers into the sides of the waistband and started to pull them down. She had to wriggle a bit until I got them half-way down her thighs, but the pair of red and white striped panties that were now inches from my face was a more than ample reward. As soon as she stepped out of her jeans I ran a finger over the front of her panties, moving down and gently feeling her female contours through the sheer material. I felt her take a deep breath and open her legs a little so my fingers could slide further. As I worked along the furrow of her pussy lips I could feel her heat and I looked up to see what effect my movements were having on the rest her. Inga had her eyes closed in deep concentration as I felt her. She swallowed and I pushed harder into her slit. She bit her lower lip and I moved a finger around the edge of her panties and inside. I continued to watch her as I pushed my finger straight up and into her. Inga's head moved back and I heard her give a little gasp as I felt her warmth. I withdrew my finger and quickly pulled down her panties. Now she stood naked before me, glorious and flushed with excitement. I looked down at her pussy. It appeared recently shaven and inviting as the slit disappeared under her. I brought my finger back up and ran it along her pussy lips, noting that they were now feeling wet an excited. It was interesting to me that all the initiative she'd shown in getting me to the bedroom had disappeared and she was now at my mercy. "You feel so sweet." I looked up and told her. She thanked me with a breathy voice and reached out to touch my cheek. With our eyes locked I pushed my finger inside her and watched as she swallowed and bit her lip again. "That feels so good." she moaned. I couldn't resist adding a second finger and thrusting in and out a few times. Inga seemed helpless as I pushed into her and I noted that her eyes had closed. She was soaking wet now that my fingers had distributed her juices liberally. I reached up with my free hand, took hold of her breast and fed the nipple into my mouth. I sucked hard on it and rubbed the tip with my tongue. Inga gave an involuntary shiver and moaned as I continued to push my fingers into her. My aim was to keep her where she was and make her come, but Inga finally managed to snap out of her trance and show that she had other ideas. Stepping sideways, off my fingers, she slipped onto the bed and motioned me to slide up a ways and join her. "How's your evening now?" she giggled, recovered from her fingering trance and reaching for my cock to starting to stroke it again. "Definitely better than expected." I admitted. I wrapped my arm around her and took a firm hold of her ass cheek with my hand. My index finger managed to feel all the way between her cheeks so that the tip rested against her pussy lips. "And I get to explore my first European pussy." Inga kissed me, her tongue exploring inside my mouth and her hand pulling urgently on my cock. I worked my thigh between hers and pushed up so that I could feel the heat of her pussy. "Can you put it in?" she asked, sounding quiet and much less secure than she had a few minutes earlier. "Not yet." I wasn't being cruel, or teasing her unduly—I wanted to taste her. I sat up a little and rolled her over so that I could reach down, pull her legs open and get my face between her legs. I took a look at her glorious open pussy lips and smelled her womanly sex before I lowered my tongue onto her fiery skin. Her slick skin felt smooth on my tongue as I glided up, along the slit between her lips. She had a gorgeous, tight little hole and I pulled her open with both hands so that my tongue could probe her. I couldn't get near as deep as my fingers, but Inga wriggled under me as I licked. European girls didn't seem to be any different from American girls—they all felt great on my tongue and all appeared to love having their pussy licked. I felt her grab my dangling hard on and start to stroke it. Her slow stroking was a distraction as it immediately started an orgasmic build-up in my balls so I knelt up from my labor of love on her pussy and looked down at Inga. I reached out and felt her breasts in turn and then motioned to get between her legs. She had other ideas. "Like this." She got onto her side, lifting one leg up and offering me her open pussy. I was sure she meant that I should lie on my side also, but I decided to kneel behind her and guide my cock into her pussy. She offered no resistance to this idea and even grabbed a pillow to raise her hips up a bit to help me penetrate her better. I straddled her lower leg, shuffled close to her and pushed the head of my cock down to her pussy lips with my hand. When I'd got the tip a half-inch inside her I took my hand away, grasped her hip and her thigh and eased myself inside her with a wonderfully long push. She was tight but I slipped in easy, her pussy walls were superbly lubricated by then. When I'd gone as far as I could I stopped and reached over to take hold of her breast, pulling on her nipple as it found its way between my fingers. Slowly I withdrew as far as I dared, then pushed again. My delight in feeling her around my cock was incredible. Inga had her eyes closed again and was panting now. She made a vain attempt to lean back and touch me, but I was out of reach for her. I looked down and caressed the curve of her ass cheeks as I make some long, slow strokes inside her. She lifted the knee of her top leg so I could get further inside her and I obliged by leaning over her body so I got as much of my hard on inside her as possible. If it was possible for me to get turned on more right then, the sight of Inga's face, eyes closed and covered with a look of delight and relief, did it. I continued to slowly ease in and out of her, keeping my cock pointing down into her pussy and now lightly fingering her clit with my hand. I looked down and watched as my length disappeared into her opening, pushing at her lips, slipping past them and into the depths of her gorgeous cave of ecstasy. She lifted her leg and her pussy opened wider for me, showing her pink skin and inviting. I took the opportunity to fully withdraw my cock a few times and plunge it back in, deep. Every time I reentered she gasped and her leg dropped, but she always raised it again, as though asking for more. I rubbed her hot little clit vigorously and was rewarded by Inga panting sharply and giving out several tiny squeals of pleasure. As much as we'd started down this journey to pleasure only me, I was now totally enthralled by the way this young sexual creature responded to my movements and found it heightening my arousal. She managed to look back at me. There was no smile on her face, just the wonton look of a woman high on our coupling and seemingly desperate to come. I stopped forcing my cock downwards into her and slipped onto the bed behind her, into the original position she requested. As soon as I was in position her hand hungrily sought my cock and guided it back inside her soaked pussy. I wrapped an arm around her and planted my hand over her breast. Inga's skin was hot to the touch everywhere and she was backing onto my cock urgently already. I started a few thrusts of my own and reached down across her belly with my free hand to find her clit. Home Away From Home Well, no one could say he didn't try. How many times had he tried to wriggle his way out of this trip.... 3...4 perhaps? Why couldn't he just tell them the truth? Why couldn't he simply explain to his superiors that this weekend was the 1 year anniversary of Wanda leaving him for that fuck-faced weasel! Well, no need to start getting all angry and bitter now. His plane was going to land in a few more minutes anyway; before he knew it he would be in a nice, comfortable hotel room sleeping like a baby. This was his first time in Atlanta, however he was a "Home Sweet Home" member for this particular hotel and was therefore greeted as such anytime he stayed there, no matter the city. Atlanta was no different. Emma, the elderly woman at the front counter was quite hospitable and explained that although her shift was over in less than an hour, Marina, the night auditor, would be there to take care of his needs until the morning be it shampoo, soap, what ever. With that, he took his room key up to the 3rd floor, read the note by the phone with the "Welcome Gregory Parker," and began to settle down. Fortunately for him, the first meeting tomorrow wasn't to be until 9am; he loved sleeping in. Feeling weary from the long flight, a shower seemed to be an excellent idea. Hanging his coat and blazer in the closet he began removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt to expose his mildly hairy, muscular chest. As he completed undressing the rest of the way, he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as he thought about how, although Wanda took most of the property, money, and pretty much everything with any material value, she hadn't taken his heart. He had never really been in love with her; he had only thought he had been. Stark naked, he stepped into the shower and began to prepare for a long, wonderful shower. The hot water flowing down the sides of his body felt better than anticipated. He considered getting himself off right then and there, but then thought it better to be clean first. He loved to do it clean. Of course, when he reached over for the soap, his land landed on the porcelain soap dish, but... no soap. His eyes frantically searching around the inside of the shower, and soon around the inside of the whole bathroom, the conclusion was quickly reached that there was no soap residing in the restroom. Fuck! That was all he needed. Wrapping a towel around his thick, strong, masculine waist, he dripped his way to the phone and dialed the front desk. The voice that answered was so friendly that for a moment he nearly forgot how frustrated he was feeling. She had answered by stating her name: Marina, and by asking how she could help him. He hastily recovered and went on to explain to her the difficulty of taking a shower without soap. Amused, Marina let out a small laugh, and then went on to explain that she was to be the only person on staff until nearly 6 am. However, she supposed that it wouldn't be too much trouble to quickly run him up a bar of soap or two and could he give her a couple of minutes; she apparently was checking someone else in. Approximately 4 minutes later, a knock jolted Gregory out of his 11 o clock movie and to the door. Not bothering to look through the peephole he swung the door open, only to see the most incredible vision imaginable. In fact, the amazing blond standing before him with her mouth agape, went actually way beyond anywhere his imagination could have taken him. In the next few moments that followed, he realized, suddenly, that he was still in his towel, water drizzling down his magnificent body. No wonder she was staring. She began stuttering her way into an apology about how she was sorry to have bothered him, blah blah blah, and she was just bringing his requested item, and so forth and so forth. Thanking her for the soap, he held out his hand to accept the 3 little bars of the stuff. When she attempted, awkwardly, to place them into his enormous hand, she was trying so hard not to look down at his body, that she dropped the soap. He bent to pick it up himself but she stopped him by placing a hand on his chest and told him that she had dropped the soap and would pick it up. As she squatted down, picking up the soap at his feet, he could feel the coolness of her long, straight blond hair brushing against his calves. What a wonderful feeling!! As she straightened herself up again to stand, her body brushed against his towel a little too closely, and he lost his grip on the towel. In a quick flurry of apologies, and confusion, Gregory managed to re-don his towel, grab the soap, and stare at Marina's amazingly taught, round ass flouncing away in her snug, business- like work skirt. Thinking back by a few short moments, he was nearly 100% certain that he had seen and heard her gasp at the sight of his "7 incher." Hmmm, he wondered... could like a guy like him, ever in a million years have a chance with a beautiful, sweet woman like that....? After a fabulous shower, (and a fantastic, self-made orgasm), he pulled on some jeans and a sweatshirt, and headed downstairs in an attempt to make peace. Arriving at the empty desk, he decided to ring the little bell for assistance. He knew that would get her attention. Moments later she came running in from the back, sweating and smoothing her skirt with her nail-polished hands. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before how enormous her breasts were! Really, they were simply magnificent! Already it seemed he was beginning to feel a little stimulated again so he stepped up to the counter to hide his lower body from view. At the sight of him Marina became instantly flustered as recognition quickly hit her face. "Um, do you need more soap?" she asked. He looked into her hazel eyes from over the counter and flashed a winning smile. Actually, he explained, he had come to apologize, and hoped that she would not remember him in a bad way. In fact, if there was a way he could make it up to her, he really would like to. Unfortunately, she apparently was stuck there until 6 in the morning, therefore, it would have to wait. However, his flight was to leave the next evening, not too long after dinner. She looked a little frustrated at hearing that, in fact, she appeared to be downright disappointed! He wasn't wanting to be too forward in asking her out, but this was distinctly his only opportunity at this woman, and wasn't sure when the next would be so he took a chance and asked her if she liked pizza. Of course she did, she eagerly replied, her eyes lighting up. The next few hours went by so quickly, that before they knew it, it was close to 5am, and he had a meeting in a matter of hours! She hadn't even left yet and already he was missing her face. He HAD to see her again, there was simply no other option. Apparently, she was thinking along the same lines b/c she casually asked him when his next trip to Atlanta was going to be. Knowing that the clients he was going to be meeting with later that morning were going to be pretty stubborn, it seemed very likely he would have to come by again very soon he told her. She beamed. The day went by in a blur. In the meeting he found himself making all sorts of references to setting things up "next week." The rest of the week seemed to take forever. For the life of him, he just could not discard from his mind, the scent of her strawberry shampoo and the feel of her soft, silken hair brushing against his calves. Did he really have a chance with this woman he thought? What would it take to get a gorgeous creature like that to make love to him? Not that there was anything particularly wrong with him of course, but women like that, well, they didn't just sleep with any good looking man that came along. The following week Mr. Parker made sure not to arrive until well after 11pm, so that Marina could be the one to check him in. Sure enough, there she was, same little tight, sexy black uniform. In fact, there was only one slight difference in her this time, as opposed to last week; He could tell that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were poking right through that crisp white blouse of hers. Oh the ecstasy that must be those breasts! After getting settled in his room, he hastily made his way back downstairs, and promptly sat himself at the mini-bar near the front desk. Between phone calls and check ins, the two conversed on all levels, same as last time. Well, as any sexual being knows, when you talk to someone long enough, the topic of sex is sure to come along whether you want it to or not..... and deep down, we all want it to, especially around the right person. It started with Marina asking him if he had ever mooned anyone before, and progressed first to, how many people have you slept with. Finally it got down to: have you ever had casual sex, and, if not, would you? This question was asked by Gregory, to which Marina replied that she would, if the man knew how to touch a woman. This comment peaked Gregory's interest and so he inquired about what she intended by that statement. "Give me your arm and close your eyes," she commanded. Obedient, he did as he was told and held out his arm to her. She then proceeded to roll up his sleeve. The next thing he knew she was gently caressing his forearm, and then, to his great surprise, she began tenderly placing light kisses all over the exposed flesh of his arm. In record time, blood began to flow strongly throughout the lower regions of his body. When she stopped he opened his eyes. Looking right into them, she asked if he thought he understood how to touch. He felt that he did and so he nodded. Not wanting to make the guests uncomfortable, and needing to close the bar, (being that it was now about 1am) Marina invited him to come to the back office. His eyes nearly bulged right out of the sockets. Thinking what an opportunity was potentially afore him, he eagerly accepted the invitation. Grabbing a strong hand into hers, she led him into the back office. Once there, he asked for her permission to touch her the way that she had done for him moments before. With eyes inviting challenge, she nodded acquiescence. Thrusting her arms out in front herself, aligning them with her now, perfectly taught, obviously hardened nipples, he positioned himself in a chair straight across from her, and took her feminine hands into his own. She closed her eyes, and he was sure he caught a glimpse of her gulping, as a slight heave of nervous air swelled in her rather large, voluptuous bosom. Aching to please the goddess, he slowly, carefully, began to caress first her fingertips, and then slowly her knuckles and then her wrists. Fighting back the urge to reach for her breasts he deliberately began working his way up her forearms, massaging tiny circles into her smooth, silken skin. Soon, he began tracing slow, delicate intricacies all along her entire arms, up and then down with his fingernails. Within seconds tiny little moans began to escape from her now slightly parted lips. Loving the near musical sound of her moaning, but not wanting to push too far too fast he carefully slid three fingertips upwards into her short sleeves and up to her shoulders. Once at her inner shoulders, he could feel the soft flesh that was in amazing proximity to her marvelous breasts. The situation was very edgy at the moment. He knew he was seconds away from the point of no return. But how could he control himself when every part of his being wanted nothing more than to animalistically ravage this sexy woman!!? He tried desperately to purge the thoughts invading his head.. the little voices that begged him to lay her down and make hard, lustful passionate love to this voluptuous temptress. Just as he was about to ask her if he was touching her "correctly," his right hand hit home as a few fingertips traveled a little too far into her shirt and lightly passed over a hardened nipple. The aching nipple responded by hardening further as her body shook with delight and her lips quivered with a slightly louder moan. That was all the signaling Gregory needed; he began fumbling at the tiny row of buttons on her crisp linen blouse. Abruptly, she shoved his hands away and said, "no, it can't be like this!" Confused, he gave her a questioning look as she hurriedly exited the room. He soon understood however, when she quickly returned, blanket and pillow in hand, no doubt from the hotel laundry room. She quickly splayed the blanket upon the office floor along with the pillow and proceeded to push him down on top of it. Still in shock, Gregory stared in eager lust, fire throbbing through his loins as she tore her blouse open, exposing her ripe, awaiting breasts, starving for attention. He couldn't believe his eyes. Before he could stop himself his hands were cupping as much breast as they possibly could, letting the soft, luxurious flesh mold to shape between his rough fingers. Gasping at his touch she let her head fall back, causing her hair to fall softly against her back in a long golden stream. It was all too much. His body was no longer controlled in the slightest by reason, logic, or any part of the brain in his head. He was like a machine now, a driven machine with one mission in mind. In moments his large hands were upon her wide, ample hips and lifting her slightly above him, as he effortlessly rolled her over onto her back and straddled her hot, ready body. Cupping a breast "bottle-style" into both hands, he began suckling it tenderly, causing her moaning to increase. Freeing one hand he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, quickly freeing his firm and ready member from its captive prison. Slowly he caressed her thighs and began moving his hands on a trail up and inwards along her inner thighs and towards her pink passion. As they began to enter "no man's land" under her skirt, her hands reached down and grabbed his wrists. "There is something I have to tell you first," she said. Concerned that he wouldn't find her desirable b/c she was unshaven, she felt obligated to tell him, knowing that it could possibly make him unattracted to her. Fortunately for her, he absolutely adored "muff-diving" and eagerly thrust her wrists away with the news, continuing to work his way upwards until finally, he began to feel the wetness of her juices, dripping down the inside of her inner thighs. Unable to keep her hands still, she placed them onto his chest, massaging it yearningly, yet delicately. This aroused him to greater heights, and before he knew it, he was propelling her skirt up onto her hip bones and stripping off her red lace bikini panties, exposing her pink flesh, topped with a mound of soft, reddish-blond mane. Dipping his finger in deeply and pulling it out slowly, he brought it to his lips for a taste. The thrill of his thick finger entering deep inside of her caused yet another high-pitched moan; the intensity was becoming unbearable. Knowing it was time to go to take it home, Gregory took one last, long look down at her amazing body and laid a small kiss onto her strawberry-blond mound, and another onto her curvy, supple stomach, working his way up until he was licking the outline of her lips and preparing himself for admission. Kissing her passionately, tenderly, he pressed the front of his head against her warm, moist, fleshy entrance. As she began to let out yet another sound from her parted lips, he commenced kissing her harder and rougher, sliding in a little deeper with each movement of his tongue. Very quickly, she had taken him completely in, all of him. The pleasure was so intense that she grabbed the pillow beside her head and held it up to her face as he drove into her roughly, his balls slapping her body with every forceful thrust. Never had a woman pleased him this greatly before. It had been so long since she had felt ecstasy at this high of a level. In fact, the closer they were coming to climax, she wondered if perhaps, she had ever had it quite this good. This incredibly sexy, passionate man was making love to her as if she were some sort of Greek goddess! His penetration suddenly began to hasten, each sliding thrust, arriving with more strength than the one before; she screamed into the pillow for the next minute and a half, as he rammed her into the blanket. Finally, with one last, determined torrent, he held himself inside of her, holding onto her, as he spilled out into her mercy, collapsing on top of her heaving, shaking, wet body. Eventually, several minutes later, he carefully pulled himself up with his arms, and rolled over next to her, their juices, now free, dripping out from between her legs. She then wrapped her arms around him, and they cuddled on the floor for the next few hours, quietly, enjoying each other's company. Knowing this man was too good to be true, Marina told him she would miss him, but didn't bother asking him when he would be back. What she didn't know, was that Gregory, being the smart man that he was, was very successful later that day in his proposal, the one that would open up a franchise of his company, to be built right there in Atlanta. Gregory and Marina just love telling their twins how they met all those years ago, although they are sure to leave out the "special" parts. After all, how do you explain to your kids that they were conceived in a hotel, but not in a hotel room, AND, only after their parents had been acquainted hardly a week? Home Away It was mildly surprising how long it took her to come. I thought she was right on the edge when I started thrusting from behind, but she continued moaning and writhing for several minutes as I rubbed her clit and pushed my cock hard into her pussy. When she did climax it was accompanied by a long, high-pitched moan that turned into a string of audible pants that ended with tiny shrieks. There was certainly no mistaking that Inga was coming, and it was a great thing to hear and experience as she pushed her clit into my fingers and clenched her pussy around my cock. She subsided into my arms, panting and whispering about how good it was for her. As pleased as I was that she'd enjoyed, my mind returned to the fact that I was ready too and I started to push again. "No." Inga said firmly and wriggled off my cock. "Let me. I believe I promised you a blowjob, no?" She rolled me over so I was lying on my back and then leaned across me from her kneeling position and took my cock in her hand. I watched her in profile, her nipples proud and her ass curved beautifully as her mouth descended and gobbled the head of my cock. Inga's tongue went back to the busy movements she started first time around. This time she brought both hands to work on me, one to grasp the bottom of my shaft and keep me vertical and cup my balls, the other to stroke and twist slowly along my length, following the lead of her mouth as it sucked up and down me. Lasting a long time while she worked on me was never an option. Watching her slip her mouth up and down and feeling her wonderful movements had me on the brink in seconds. I caught a tiny glimpse of the look she made towards me as my legs stiffened with the approaching climax and she understood—slowing all of her actions down. Her eyes went back to my cock and her hand slipped down from the base of my shaft to caress my balls. I came hard, the climax hesitating on the edge before it burst uncontrollably through my nervous system. The intense pleasure ran around my body in seemingly endless loops that only started to fade when my cock twitched and started to spurt. Inga didn't lift her mouth from me as I streamed come onto her tongue. I looked down and saw her profile again, naked and clamped to my cock. When I stopped shaking from the orgasm Inga pulled her mouth off me and a long stream of come and saliva mixture ran down my shaft. Her hand was still massaging my balls, something I noted now that normal feeling had replaced spontaneous pleasure throughout my body. Her fingers stayed resting on the soft skin of my sacs as she slid onto the bed next to me. I opened my arm and pulled her close as she settled. "So," she turned her face into mine, "how do European girls measure up now?" I heaved a few deep breaths before answering with a grin. "Just fine... if my experience with one girl is anything to go by." "She was fun, no?" "She was spectacular." I kissed her and turned to face her so that my softening cock rested against her silky thigh. "Very spectacular." "I hope you don't think this is part of the normal service we offer for conference people?" She was concerned now, her aggression and adventure banished. "Of course I don't." I watched her face lighten again. "I've been wondering about you since you arrived. I wouldn't normally do anything, but I was studying some interesting data on sexual responses when you came home. When we started talking about brothels... I just got so turned on." "When you started talking about brothels." I reminded her. Inga smiled, comfortable that she wasn't viewed in a shady light. She snuggled into my side and whispered, "You think I can sleep in my own bed tonight?" "Sure,' I kissed her again, "but I'm not going anywhere." "That's what I hoped."