4 comments/ 29490 views/ 0 favorites The Tryst By: Sensuous Storyteller John felt the tires hit the tarmac as the plane landed with a bump. When the plane rolled to a stop and the 'fasten seatbelt' sign went out, he undid it and stood up to stretch his legs. As he reached up to take out his carry on bag from the compartment above his seat, he felt the heat of a body standing close behind him. He knew it was her; the flight attendant, the one that gave him special attention and bright smiles all during the flight. Her body bumped up to him so tightly that he felt her breasts through his shirt. A hand slipped from his pocket and she quickly moved away. Once in the terminal he grabbed his suitcase from the baggage area and he reached in his pocket to read the note. It said, "My next flight is not until tomorrow. If you are interested please meet me in the bar for a drink." Smiling to himself, he thought, 'This business trip could become more of a pleasure trip.' And headed for the bar. She was sitting on a stool at the bar with a glass of white wine in front of her. This time he walked over and stood so close to her that she could feel the heat of his body. She knew it was him; without even turning around to look. "What's your pleasure?" she asked in a husky voice that implied much. "I will tell you what pleasures me in a bit but for now I will take a scotch and water." He answered with a knowing look. Sipping their drinks, they appraised each other with hooded eyes all the while they chatted about why he was in town and the destination of her next flight. They discussed things of little consequence carefully avoiding the next step until they finished their drinks. When John asked Tara if she would like another wine, she declined saying she would enjoy another drink but perhaps in a room, where they could relax and let their 'hair down'. John slapped down a twenty dollar bill and lifted her case as well as his own and said, "Let's go." After a short cab ride and a few minutes to register at the front desk they found themselves in room 1208 of the nicest hotel in town. John barely had a chance to drop the bags on the floor when Tara pushed herself into his arms. A little surprised but not the least bit disappointed, John kissed her softly as the thrill of the assignation took over. The kiss turned from a soft gentle touch to a passionate intrusion with their tongues sparring as if their lives depended on it. Tara's fingers slipped to the buttons on his shirt and almost ripped them apart in her haste but John took her hands in his and pushed them away. He undid the buttons himself just as quickly but without ripping the shirt. Tara unable to stay still undid her own blouse and pulled it from her shoulders. The stood still for a moment just looking at each other before he tentatively reached out and grabbed a lace- covered breast. Tara moaned and leaned into him resting her head on his shoulder. He reached around to undo the bra clasp and pulled the straps from her shoulders baring the pretties pink tipped mounds of flesh he ever saw. His big hands reached out again and covered her warm soft breasts, caressing them softly. His hands clawed to the tips and the fingers and thumbs of each hand pinched her nipples hard. Tara squealed in surprise but not in pain, he knew because a soft moan quickly followed. John's head lowered to take a gorgeous pink nipple into his mouth, suckling her softly first then harder as he sensed that is what she wanted. He was right and was rewarded with another moan as her fingers raced to undo his pants. As soon as they were opened, her hand slipped inside to grip his cock. It was so hard with the wetness of precum already moistening the tip. He took her other nipple into his mouth as her fingers slid across his moistened glans causing him to bite gently on her sensitive nubbin. As difficult as it is to separate magnets, they pulled apart to finish undressing. Her skirt fell to the floor and was banished with a kick of her pumps. Cream coloured lace panties soon followed. Tara slipped off her pumps but left her thigh high stockings on, knowing how sexy it looked and how silky her legs would feel rubbing his naked skin while he fucked her. John was dropping his pants and removing socks and shoes just as hastily thinking gracefulness had no place in a good fuck. They stood looking at each other. She saw a broad chested, handsome man. His face was rugged looking with smoky brown eyes that could have smoldered a hole right through her. She ran her fingers through the black curly hair that covered his nipples before trailing down to a thicker mat that surrounded his very proud erection.. He saw a pretty brunette with bright eyes glistening from her arousal. Her perfectly pink crested breasts and a softly rounded feminine tummy were delightfully displayed to him. Her stockings had only emphasized her nakedness and his eyes locked onto the V between her legs. He had never seen such a lovely bushed woman before. Most women shaved and trimmed their pubic hair these days but not this woman. Usually looking at a woman this way, he was able to catch a peek of pink lips but not in this case. Her black hair covered her treasure completely. He looked up into her glazed and shiny eyes to see passion in its rawest sense. He could wait no longer. He took her by her shoulders and almost slammed her against the wall. His hand dropped to the pretty forest between her legs and tangled his fingers in her hair. It was damp and his fingers searched for the source of that wetness. Buried deep was the soft tender flesh he sought. Her legs opened, giving him access to her slick slit. He was going to insert a digit slowly but her hips bucked showing him she wanted him to shove it in, fast and hard. He obliged. The moist nest engulfed his finger as he added another. She moaned softly when his thumb found her clit and wetly circled it gently. "Fuck me", she whispered. "Fuck me now, hard against this wall. Ram me with that cock of yours and make me scream." John did not need a second invitation. His fingers left her hot pussy to guide his cock to her opening. He spread her nether lips and rested the head just inside her . "Fuck me!" she screamed this time. "John, shove it in me, now!" Those passionate words burned into his brain and stoked his ardor. His hands slid between the wall and down her back to grip the soft cheeks of her ass lifting her up and onto his cock. Slowly he slid himself into that hot wet grotto, their opened eyes looked at each other. He saw her wrinkled brow; her opened mouth allowing her gasps to escape but more importantly, he saw her pleading eyes begging to be fucked harder, and he was glad to answer her plea. As he lifted her up with his strong hands cupping her buttocks, she wrapped her stocking clad legs around his naked hips, the silkiness adding another dimension to their senses. Holding her ass tightly he spread her cheeks wide as a finger slid across her anus. Her hips bucked into him as he pushed her against the wall again, fucking her just as hard as she was fucking him. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and when his lips touched hers he tasted the saltiness of her sweat. He slammed his hips forward shoving his cock deep into her, barely pulling back before shoving it inside her again. Her ass wiggled in his hands, grinding her body closer to him. His finger still danced along the crinkled opening, teasing the sensitive nerves as they fucked each other to the brink of orgasm. Her head fell back and banged against the wall, she acted as if she didn't even feel it. His mouth captured a juicy tit morsel in his mouth and she begged him to bite it. He did and at the same moment he felt her cunt muscles grip in tightly in a spasm as she came. He groaned aloud and rammed himself inside her and exploded at the same time. He did not pump but instead he shoved his cock deep inside her and speared her against the wall while his cum painted the already wet walls of her body.. As his cock finished filling her, the walls of her cunt lessened their grip.. As their orgasm subsided, Tara slid slowly down from her perch to stand on legs of rubber. He sensed her imbalance and folded her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Laying her head on the pillow he crawled down beside her. "That was wonderful!" she rasped. She cleared her throat to speak more clearly. "I knew it would be like that with you." "You did?" he questioned and let his hand caress her flushed post -orgasmic body. "Yup, I did" she grinned at him in response. "And I want more." "I don't suppose you mind if I take a moment or two here to recoup, will you?" He teased. His hand traced down to playfully tug on her generous bush before running his fingers through it and down to where her heat became very humid. "Nope, I don't mind. I am sure we can think of something to do while you recoup." He searched through the downy softness to find the silky flesh he knew was there. "You must know that you have the hairiest bush I have ever seen on a woman," "Yes, I know. I have been thinking of shaving it all off. What do you think?" she asked. Concerned at how his comment might have been taken by her, he tried to quickly do some damage control. "I didn't mean to imply it is a bad thing. It is even kind of nice. I liked it." "Thanks I am glad you like it but I have been thinking about this for a long time and it has nothing to do with you. Would you help?" she asked with a seductive smile. "You mean shave you? Here? Now?" He grinned. Sitting up naked, Tara turned cross-legged in front of him. His eyes took in the sight of her lovely breasts and then quickly lowered to see pink buried beneath the black. Tara reached out and lifted his face to look at her. "Yes, here. Now. Will you do it?" She giggled excitedly. The look in his eyes was all the answer she needed. She hopped from the bed and grabbed her bag from the floor. John leaned back on his pillow and watched her run naked around the room gathering things. She opened her bag and took out her make up bag. Unzipping it, she reached into the side and pulled out a pair of scissors, feminine shaving cream, a razor and a small bottle of baby oil. She laid them on the bed near John before she grabbed the plastic ice bucket and went into the bathroom. John couldn't see her but he heard the water running from the tap. In no time at all, Tara returned with the ice bucket full of water, a face cloth and two fresh towels over her arm like a maitre d. She placed the towel midway on the bed and then laid down making sure her bottom was centered on the towel. She handed John the scissors and smiled. John sat up with the scissors in his hand, not quite sure what to do. "Relax. We should enjoy this. Just trim the excess hair and then we will shave the rest." "You are sure about this?" he asked getting ready to do the deed. "Yup! I want to see myself as hairless as I was when I was 10 years old." She grinned. "Ok, here goes." John reached over and grabbed a tuft of hair and snipped. His hand hovered over her not sure where to put it and then he saw the wastebasket next to the night-table His hand pressed against the inside of her thigh so she would open them for him and he trimmed the hair there too. "Ok, now put the facecloth in the hot water and moisten the skin as you would your face before shaving." The water was hot but he did as she said and when he placed it on her mound she moaned. "Too hot?" he asked anxiously, wondering if he had hurt her. "No, it feels good. I need to cum again but lets do this first. The holding back will make it that much sweeter." He took her ladies gel shaving cream and dispensed it into his hand. Rubbing it onto her mound the gel foamed up and covered her nicely. He looked up and saw the glaze in her eyes again and he knew she was getting as aroused as he was. Picking up the razor he started to shave her. One swipe across her pubic bone and hair and foam pulled away leaving soft smooth skin in its path. Again, he drew the razor across and more bare skin became visible. He continued until her mound was bare and then he opened her legs wide. Bending down into the apex of her legs, John added more gel and laved her labia. Very carefully, he slipped a finger into her cunt and with his thumb he pulled one side of her lip tight so the razor would glide along and remove the unwanted hair. His cock hardened not only from the view of her delicious cunt, and not just from the idea that he was shaving this lovely lady in a most intimate way but from the heat she was giving off as the walls of her pussy gripped his finger like a glove. When he was done, he rinsed the cloth again and wiped away the excess foam and cleaned her up to show them both her hairless mound. She lifted her head to see what he did at the same time he looked. "WOW! I am so naked!!! I mean I know I am naked but I mean I am really naked now. You can see everything." Rubbing her finger along the smooth white skin she was amazed. "It feels so soft and smooth. Feel it" His hand cupped her mound before letting his fingers trace her lips. As he did this he saw the oily liquid seep from her slit making it shiny and glossy. His head dipped and his tongue slipped out to taste that nectar from her clean-shaven lips. Tara bucked as though an electric wire had touched her. "Ohmigod, JOHN! The feeling! It is intensified. I feel so much more. I am so glad we did this!" John just smiled and lowered his head again. Inhaling deeply. The scent of shaving cream and sex was heady to him and his cock throbbed as he bent in closer to taste her again. His tongue slipped out to lap at her smooth bare skin. Her tasty juices began to run freely over her newly shaved lips. With his free hand he pulled back the hood of her clit as the hardened nub peeked out. He placed his mouth entirely over it sucking it noisily. Tara's hips left the bed almost throwing him off her but her hands gripped the back of his head to pull his mouth closer. She moaned and gripped him to her body as she came hard. Her head thrashed from side to side and her legs rose up in the air giving him better access to her body. His was head shaking and digging in deeper, drinking from her as she pours her juices onto his tongue. When her orgasm began to subside, he knew. The grip on his head weakened and her entire body collapsed into a heap on the bed. He lifted his face and looked into hers, smiling. His lips were shiny and glistening from eating her. Reaching up to the back of his head, she pulled him down for a kiss. Her tongue reached out to taste her juices from his lips. Grinning with satisfaction, John rolled to his side and relaxed. "I had no idea shaving you would be such a delight! Now, it is time to finish the job." "You are not done?" she queried. "Nope, not done." He answered. "Turn over." And with that request he grabbed her hips and flipped her over. "Lift." He said as he placed a pillow beneath her hips to raise her ass up even more. "Spread." He told her as his hands slipped between her legs and spread them wide before she even realized what he did. He reached over and took the cloth from the now tepid water and placed it between the cheeks of her ass. Squirting gel into his hand as he did before, he rubbed it to foam in the crevasse in front of him. Picking up the razor, John scraped it across the inside of her cheek around the brownish coloured anus, being very careful not to cut her. He took the cloth and again, wiped away the excess and bent down to kiss her on her cleanly shaven pucker. Tara, not expecting this, jumped a little when she felt, first his breath and then his mouth on her ass. "Hey!" she exclaimed in embarrassment. "Hey what?" he answered her laughing. "Has no one ever kissed your ass before?" Giggling Tara rolled over and took him in her arms. "Not recently" She smiled. Kissing her nose, John pulled himself away and reached for the baby oil. "Now for the finishing touch." He flipped open the bottle of oil and squirted it generously onto her bare flesh. It flowed down between her legs and seeped onto the towel beneath her bottom. He took his hand and caressed the silky fluid over her pubis and down between her legs, slipping a moistened finger inside her. Moaning in content she enjoyed his caresses but soon stopped him. "Give me that." She took the bottle of oil from his hand and pressed him to lie down on his back. Sitting up Indian fashion next to his right hip, Tara poured the oil all over his genitals. Snapping the lid back in place she tossed it on the bed. Velvet hands gripped his hard cock and slowly stroked him up and down. She looked up at his face and saw that he was thoroughly enjoying her touch. Opening his legs with greasy hands, Tara gently cupped his balls, hefting and caressing them, feeling their weight. John began to moan, and that was all the encouragement she needed. Taking his erection in her hand again, she held it tight in her fist close to the bottom of the shaft. A smooth oily hand glided up the shaft tightly but slowly to the head of his cock. Delicate fingers grazed the sensitive head and it felt like soft ripples sending shockwaves of passion throughout his body. The waves fingered out to his balls and the lowest part of his tummy causing him to grimace. Down the shaft her hand quickly slid all the way back to his body. Seconds later it ascended slowly up the shaft to repeat the erotic dance on the head of his cock. "Oh my God, your hands are soooo talented!" He moaned out between clenched teeth. Smiling, she answered, "Shhh, enjoy this, it gets better." Gripping his cock tightly, her hand continued stroking him up and down his shaft always paying special attention to the head when she reached it. She saw his precum mix with the oil around his slit. Her other hand cupped his balls and she knew from the tightness there that he would cum very soon. Letting her hand trail down beneath his balls, she pressed hard on the spot just before his anus and at the same time she swirled her slick hand over his glans causing him the most agonizing pleasure. As she pressed on that special spot he yelled out, " I am cumming." But nothing shot from the tip. She knew that the pressure of her finger was not allowing the semen to shoot out. He felt the feeling of orgasm but her little trick prolonged it. When she let go of the pressure, she quickly inserted her lubricated finger in his ass and found his prostrate as he came. Large streams of white cum shot from the head of his cock like a fountain. His tummy muscles tensed and the top half of his body rose up on its own as his howl of pleasure rent through the room. He thought he would never stop cumming. When his orgasm began to slip away, his body began to relax. Tara gently removed her finger from his ass and softly caressed the errant puddles of cum into his skin. John's chest heaved as his lungs gulped for much needed air and sweat shone on his body. Tara crawled down next to him and cuddled into his weakened arms, smiling to herself. With her head on his chest she could hear the quickened beat of his heart. "My God, woman, that was sensational. I never felt like that before." "I love that you enjoyed it, John. I guess we both got to enjoy new feelings today." She joked as they both lifted their heads to peek at her newly shaved pussy. The Tryst It's two in the morning, four days after Valentine's Day. I am awake, lying naked in a motel bed somewhere out west. Next to me, semi-asleep, lies a woman I have only known in person for less than 12 hours, yet I feel as though I have known her forever. She, too, is naked. Her pale skin glows in the light that filters in through the curtained window. I reach out to touch her shoulder, marveling that she's here with me rather than in her hometown a few hundred miles east. With me, I remind myself, rather than with her husband. I had met Mindy almost six months ago, not in person but in an Internet chat room. I had just been informed that another online would-be sweetheart had decided not to meet me in person after all, so I was pretty despondent. I went into that chat room feeling extremely sad. Hoping to ease the pain and maybe strike up a friendship, I typed in, Does anyone here want to talk to someone who's had a bad Internet romance? I immediately regretted sounding so desperate, but I had promised myself that I would be honest in my Internet dalliances. I'd heard too many horror stories about meeting people on the Net so even in my just-for-fun cybers I was, and still am, truthful. So truthful in fact that, not knowing my true cock size, I always said it was a six-inch one. Not porn-star big, but not too shabby, either. (I later found out it's 8.25 inches long, but that's not the issue.) I wished I had come up with something a bit more assertive, but it was too late. My despair of the moment was on display for all the world to see. Suddenly, on the screen appeared a reply: I will. I won't replay the conversation here, but there was an instant rapport between this lovely lady and me. I looked up her profile and saw she was Married but Looking, in her early 30s, and owned a small flower shop in the town where she lives with her husband and three daughters. I winced at the Married part, but we were in an adult chat room and everyone was cybering. I was lonely and getting a bit horny. On impulse I asked, "Do you want to cyber?" She surprised me when she agreed. We only managed to get some foreplay in before one of her girls came into her computer room and asked if she could use the PC. My new friend apologized but said she liked me and that we could add each other to our buddy lists. We exchanged real names, then we jotted down each other's e-mail addresses and said our good nights. I was a bit disappointed when she left; already I knew something big had happened. The next morning I found an e-mail from Mindy: I can't stop thinking about you, Alex. I wonder how you are and how you are feeling, what you're doing. With those words, I realized that something had, indeed happened. Over the next few days we exchanged e-mails and cybered whenever her husband was not home. It turns out they both had cyber-lovers, something they had agreed on to spice up their sex lives. But they had different ideas of how they should go about it. Richard was a player and wanted to meet some of his "ladies" while Mindy just liked to have sexy chats and phone sex. She also had to deal with Richard's jealousy; he’d told her she could do anything online, but any one-on-one meetings would have to be approved by him. This was not likely, given that the jealousy factor would grow until finally Mindy would not be able to spend much unsupervised time online. Meanwhile, I had tried to start a real romance with a single nurse in the Midwest, but that fizzled badly. By then, I knew I was in love with Mindy -- though I was resigned to the fact that we'd never meet. Yet, not even six months after we met in that chat room, I hopped on a plane and went to meet her. I look at my watch. It's 2:05. I run my hand gently along her bare back and caress her long brown hair. She is not centerfold material; she's around 5 feet tall, chubby, and is very average looking. Yet to me she is beautiful beyond looks…beyond thought. As I run my fingers up and down her spine, my cock throbs back to life. On this same bed, not more than five hours ago, we had made love for the first time. It had been beautiful. No sooner had she closed the motel room door behind her and I had placed my suitcase on the floor when we found ourselves in a tight embrace and we were kissing. She had warned me that maybe she would not like kissing. None of the men in her life were good at it. I told her that kissing was the only thing I had ever really done with a woman. Having cerebral palsy has made me a bit too self-conscious and reticent, so until now kissing and a little tit-sucking had been my only experiences in bed. Mindy would not only be my first illicit affair, but she would also be my first lover. Much to her delight, my kissing skills had not vanished even after more than a decade. We kissed and kissed for minutes on end. I kissed her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids. I broke away for a minute and we set up a CD player she'd borrowed for her business trip; she was in this town for a legitimate business outing but her hubby and children were unable to go, hence my presence there. I took out a Golden Oldies CD that featured old rock-and-roll songs. We danced to a slow song, and when we stopped dancing, I kissed her passionately. That did it. Mindy led me to the bed, and sitting next to me, she unbuttoned my shirt and slid it off me. She kissed me and invited me to unbutton her blouse, but the buttons were too tiny and I couldn't undo even one. She smiled and said, "Don't fret, hon. I'll do it." She unbuttoned her blouse and took it off. I stared, gasping in wonder. She then reached in front of her and took off her sports bra, revealing her generous breasts. Her nipples were pink and already hard. "They're beautiful," I whispered. She smiled and actually blushed. Mindy thinks her tits are uneven, but to me they're lovely. I took them in my hands and touched them, rubbing the nipples with my palms and feeling them get harder. Finally, I couldn't wait any longer. I was 36 years old and had never made love to a woman. For 6 months I had longed for this moment. I quickly took the rest of my clothes off and helped her out of hers. When she was finally naked I lay on top of her, feeling a shock as our bodies touched for the first time. My cock, which had been hard all the way from the airport, rubbed along her thigh. We moaned as our bodies reacted to each other's touch. "I love you, Min," I said as I lay on the bed face-up. We had agreed she'd fuck me from above because I wasn't sure if I could handle the traditional man-on-top positions. She smiled as she straddled me. "I know you do, baby. I wouldn't be here if you didn't love me." With this, she took my cock in her right hand. She looked at it, then stared into my eyes. She smiled at me again and rubbed my cockhead with her already wet pussy. "That feels good," I said shakily. "It will feel even better," Mindy said. She lifted herself back up and went down a little further with the downstroke. "Do you want to be all the way inside me?" she asked. "Yes," I whispered. "Good," she said. "I want you inside me, too, babe. Can't wait to feel you all the way in. But not yet. I like feeling you a little way in." She took my dick and rubbed the head of it against her clit. "Oh baby," she cooed huskily. "Feels so good to me. I want you back inside me!" She slid my hard cock back to her throbbing pussy and just let the tip enter her again. Up and down with quick little strokes, building her excitement even higher and higher. Then SLAM, she pressed her cunt down onto me "Oh God, Alex. You feel so good inside me!" Repeatedly she impaled herself on my stiff rod. each downstroke elicited a cry from her and some from me, which only heightened our happiness. I reached up and took her right nipple into my mouth and she almost climaxed right then. "Oh God, hon," she moaned breathlessly. "Keep it up and I will cum for you." Faster and faster she went, grinding her pussy onto my cock and getting so close to orgasm. She threw her head back as I continued to suck on her breast and she kept making sweet love to me. She cooed again: "Ohhh, Love. You are so good to me. I am so close now! Cum with me, baby! I want to feel you cumming inside my hot pussy when I cum for you." Up and down she went. She could feel me rising up to meet her, getting even more into her womanhood. "Oh hon, you feel so good. That licking and sucking is going to make me cum! Oh my Gooooodddddd......aahhhhhhh!!!!" Suddenly she couldn't go on any more, yet her body continued to twitch and writhe for me. She collapsed on top of me and continued to move so that I could get off for her. She kissed my lips, long, slow and deep. And she could feel me cumming! "Give it to me honey!" she cried joyfully. "Fill me up with you. Oh baby! Feels so good." All the while she was kissing me and trying to catch her breath. It was not working. "I am so worked up by you," she said. "You make me hot and so very happy. Mmmm." She removed herself from me and lay beside me, not being able to get close enough to me. "I want to be one with your body as well as your soul," she said softly. She ran her fingers in the hair on my chest and covered me with little kisses. As for me, I cuddled up with her and just breathed, wanting to take her all in, so very happy being with my Mindy. "I wish," I said huskily, "you were my wife." She said nothing. She smiled, yet, in her eyes, tears welled up. Eventually we fell asleep, totally content with each other and completely satisfied. The Tryst As he pulls into the valet parking area of the downtown hotel, he wonders for the hundredth time what he is doing here. Sneaking out of the house on some made up pretense, meeting a woman who is married herself? So many things could go wrong with this, starting with just checking in. They're going to need a driver's license, his name, his address. He slows the car to a stop and once more he thinks, "Stupid, stupid, stupid." He thinks about pulling away, but just then the valet reaches down and opens the car door, calling him "Sir," asking if he's got any luggage. He boldly answers no, and hands a $20 bill to the valet. "Take good care of it," he says cooly and walks straight through the front doors. He wonders if he's having a breakdown of some kind as he strides across the lobby just like a man who isn't trysting in this hotel. This smooth, cool style just isn't the man he's used to being. He's not bold. He's not smooth, definitely not cool. As he asks for a suite (with a view), he thinks about Her. He thinks about the first time he saw Her, how sexy he thought she was: strawberry blonde hair; full curvy figure. He remembers the first time he said something to her and made her smile; how her entire face lit up and became even more attractive. How her eyes sparkled and her teeth showed white. He thought of the hours and hours of subsequent conversations, starting with innocent and mutual admiration, the picking up of vibrations from each other, going step by step until the ultimate declarations of physical and emotional attraction were confessed. He thought about the many more hours of emotional agony, thinking about her having a date with her husband, kissing him, holding him. He found himself jealous, which startled him, because he had no right to be. Then one day she confessed she too was in turmoil, she told him that while she was making love with her husband, she thought only of him, wishing it was Him making love to her, being inside of her. She said she had pretended it was him, in the darkness, and it had caused her to orgasm almost immediately. He too confessed to having made love to his own wife while pretending it was her. He added that it had only made his longing for her worse, having to pretend. He left out how guilty he had felt after making love to his wife, knowing he had fantasized about someone else. How rotten he had felt, yet at the same time, excited. Of feeling somehow closer to Her. She called him on the phone one night as he sat alone in his living room and she sat alone in her bedroom. Again they discussed guilt, and not wanting to hurt their spouses. He stated bluntly that he loved his wife and could not think of a life without her. She too, stated deep affection for her husband and not wanting to leave him. Then they had declared over and over their affection for each other, the pain of being separated from one another, their mutual lust and longing. Their talk became erotic and she had masturbated for him while on the phone, as he talked about what he'd like to be doing to her, with her. She had climaxed for him, and afterwards, they talked for hours and hours. As intelligent beings, they should have realized they were doomed. Deep down, they knew they were, but the affair had come this far now, the next step had to be consummation - real physical contact. The only other course was rejecting the whole notion, but now neither of them could think of what to call their experiences together so far, so without the benefit of a label, neither of them could go back. And neither of them wanted to. Hesitantly, guardedly, they crept inch by inch, to a place on the horizon they both knew existed without ever once speaking of it. So here he was opening the door to suite 2123, drawing the curtains from the ceiling-to-floor windows which looked out over the night-lit city that twinkled like stars below him. The minibar was fully stocked, the glasses crystal, the lighting moody and indirect, the bed large. He filled the ice bucket, made himself a bourbon on the rocks and sat down fully clothed on the edge of the bed and waited. He thought of his wife, at home, innocent. He thought of his deep love for her, his devotion to- he stopped there. Devotion? If he was so devoted what in god's name was he doing in the Plaza Hotel in suite 2123 waiting for a lover, a woman married to someone else, to meet him? He suddenly felt very tired. He was emotionally exhausted and weary of these same thoughts and arguements and doubts and guilt-trips and... A timid knock at the door snapped him out of his logic-loop. Who was going to be on the other side of that door? His wife, his lover, her husband? He took a long drink from his glass, draining it, and set the glass on the table. He strode to the door. He unlocked it quickly and pulled it open and there she stood - Her. His heart raced and pounded in his chest, he couldn't hold on to a coherent train of thought: she came, she risked, she dressed for this, she's wearing makeup, she's beautiful, I can't believe it, all ran though his mind like a torrent. This was IT. He guiltily felt like a groom on his wedding night. She was stunning, and standing there looking beautiful and terrified and happy. He inhaled her perfume and said, "I'm so glad you're here," and smiling, stepped back from the threshold, inviting her inside. "The room is beautiful," she said looking around as she entered. "Would you like a drink?" he asked, and began putting ice into a glass. "Vodka," she said. "Of course. You're going to have to take it neat. There's plenty of booze but no mixers." "That's OK," she said as she went to the window, "I think I need it straight. Nice view," she added absently. "I told them at the desk I wanted a view. This way, we can leave the curtains open," he congratulated himself. He then immediately retreated from his boast and, while handing her a glass filled to the brim with Vodka and ice, said, "Katrina, we haven't done anything wrong. You met me here, I rented this room. Nothing has happened. You had a drink - so what? We could-" "Aren't you going to say anything about my dress?" she interrupted him before he could suggest an alternative, "I went all out.." "You are stunning!" he recovered, relieved, "You took my breath away when I opened the door." He moved to her and took her in his arms. "Like I said, I'm glad you are here. With me. I can't really believe you are here with me. I've wanted this - we've wanted this for so long, its like a dream is really happening. You're so very beautiful." They kissed. All the months and months of unfulfilled passion poured from them, through them, and into one another. As their bodies met, so did their souls. Both of their hearts on fire, they collapsed into each other. They breathed into each others mouths as they fell and kissed and drew from each other and into each other. Their passion reaching a zenith, they ripped and clawed at each other's clothing, searching each other, tasting, touching, inflaming each other to a higher and higher frequency. Drinks spilled over both of their now naked bodies, the alcohol and ice sucked and licked from each other. Suddenly, raw passion gave way to a mutual seriousness, a realization that this was real - this was happening. Their movements slowed and became more sensual, more attentive to one another's responses. They moved from the floor onto the large bed, and staring deeply into each others' eyes, made deliberate love to one another, focusing on touch and feel and response. The previous high point of their frenzied passion was now forgotten as an afterthought, or a given. This new luxuriousness, this ultimate fulfillment went beyond, far beyond, any fantasy. Held each other and pleasured one another as only new lovers can. Afterward, they lay naked, uncovered, idly stroking one another. They basked in the glow of their lovemaking, talking softly and sweetly to one another, each assuring the other, kissing delicately. Their passion rose and was again fulfilled, and once again. Exhausted, he rose from the bed and lit a cigarette. She sprawled on the bed and watched him move around the room, admiring his silhouette at the window. He returned to the bed, held her in his arms, wanting nothing more than to lay like this, with her, forever. They kissed and touched and talked quietly, avoiding mention of Time, though both of them began to feel the lighted clock staring at them. They began to run out of conversation as the need to return to safety gripped each of them. The hour was late. The realization of crossing a line occurred to both of them. They were now in a place that they could never retreat from, had done something which would never be undone. And they had enjoyed it. All of it, from start to finish. What that actually meant, neither of them wanted to think about. Images played though his head, his wife crying, the lawyers, the dividing. The starting over. While he stood there and smoked and stared without seeing out the window. "Can I ask you a question," she asked. "Absolutely," he replied as he gathered up his clothing, separating his from hers. "What do we have?" "I don't know," he answered. "But I'm very happy with it." "So am I," she said, stretching across the bed but not smiling. "Hand me my clothes, or make love to me again." He didn't have to be asked twice. The Tryst I love summer and at times I struggle with balancing out parties, barbeques, weddings and reunions with down time, and due to my busy schedule and a few other things it seems that my sex life has lagged. While I've had my eye on a woman that has caught my attention (another story for another time), there is a man that can almost immediately cure my need for play and sex. I call him. There is no pretext of getting together for dinner, or drinks or a movie. He answers the phone; we chat a minute or two and exchange a laugh or two. At some point I say "I'd like to get together, and soon". He tells me he's available and ready for "anything" but he needs a few hours to finish some project he's in the midst of, and he'll clean up and be over. Well of course he'll be over; he's a man after all and I'm offering sex without commitment. He is good to me, and asks for nothing but to be thoroughly used when the time is right. This is a very good exchange for me. The buzzer sounds, and I let him into the security door downstairs and I can hear the elevator whirring. He knocks, and of course I look at him through the peep hole. Lovely I think as he stands there holding a bottle of wine. He has this way of dressing that looks casual without looking like he's going to mow the yard or play baseball. When I see him in the community in which we both live I watch him while he isn't aware that I can see him and I marvel at how he has achieved this look. He also, by some miracle looks incredible in a suit, though I know that he's not a suit person, he wears them only when he has to. He's a professional man with a nice disposable income. He's not married, and once in a while at a theatre or a restaurant I see him with various lovely young women. He's married to his work which devours him upon occasion. I open the door and stand there, blocking his way, smiling at him. During the summer I sport a tan, and love to wear dresses. I'm a girlie girl, however underneath that dress is exactly no underwear, it's rather tartish and I like myself that way. He smiles back, his lovely brown eyes twinkling. "Good Evening Ma'am", "I hear you need assistance with some problem you have". I laugh, and he enters. He steps in to not block the door, and I shut the door and turn to him. I take the wine bottle from his hand, and he puts down his keys and sunglasses on the table, strips and kneels down. I stand there smiling down at him, and I ruffle his hair. I totally enjoy this man as he likes being exactly what he is – he's a slut and while he won't run through the boulevards spreading the word of how much of slut he is, behind closed doors there is very little he won't do. His appeal is his need for control and use without having to prove it to everyone. He kneels until I tell him to stand and he immediately rises when I tell him to. "May I get you a glass of wine Ma'am"? He asks. "Yes, and when you have done that come and sit with me a moment." I reply He pours wine for me and joins me on the chesterfield. I ask very simple questions as a double check. "What can I have?" I ask "Anything and everything" is his answer "Any recent health problems of note"? "None" "Who have you been fucking?" "My right hand Ma'am, I've been at my Mum's since we last saw each other going slowly, painfully insane. She knows no one under the age of 80 and is in poor health and needs more attention than a two year old in nappies." "Kneel then", I say to him. My need is rapacious and I'm fighting to not lose my self control and to keep this a drawn out occasion, to drag out everything I can from him and from myself. He kneels quickly and I part my thighs slightly and he interprets the cue correctly and moves in closer. My bare toes find his thigh and he picks up my foot, kissing, massaging, lightly nibbling on my feet. I sip my wine, lean my head back, close my eyes and sigh. I find a certain touch, or caress of my feet to be very erotic. When I have pedicures I need to be careful in choosing who does them only because I don't want to have to fight with my erotic thoughts. As I tingle in all the right places he teases me, and I move to bliss. I'm quite ticklish and I squirm and I want to burst out laughing, but I know if I do, this scene that I've fantasized about all day will not occur. I want him to stop and yet I want it to never end and quickly before this moves out of control I withdraw my foot. He smiles at me, and slowly I rise, for some mysterious reason his smile fades. Now rather than looking at me, his gaze is down at the floor as he contemplates what may be coming his way. I stand close enough to him to place my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. In his kneeling position, his ass is resting on his calves, and his thighs are parted. My feet find his balls and his growing cock. He rests his head on my thigh and my toes whisper along his balls. Occasionally my toes clutch his cock. He sighs, and moans softly. As soon as I feel the slightest trace of pre-cum on my foot I know he's ready, and that there isn't a need for more warming up. I can keep him hard like this for as long as I want him that way and I don't hesitate to keep him this way. I'm damp with desire, but I'm in no hurry at all, I have all night and I'll cum when I want to and rest when I need to. I love sex to the point of exhaustion. Gently I step down, my bare foot capturing his cock between his balls, separating them. I grasp the hair on his head, and force his head up so that he is looking at me and I listen closely to his breathing, his struggle. I look down upon him and watch a thin line of sweat form above his left brow line. I ease up, and step back down repeatedly. In time, when I've had enough, I relent. I step away, release his hair, and sit down. He is shaking slightly, though reasonably composed and he rests back on his calves. In time he lifts his head and smiles at me. I rise and move to the bedroom stripping out of my dress and leaving it in a heap on the floor. "Come here, I've just begun with you", I say and he is quick to his feet and follows behind me, picking up my dress, entering my closet and placing the dress on a hanger. My boudoir, it's my nicest room, my most spectacular of spaces. It's a much largest room in my home and that's by design. My queen sized bed is perfect for me. It has only quality linens and a lovely thick mattress pad on top of the mattress. My bathroom is huge with a stand alone shower and a soaker tub. I have a stereo system which is linked to both the bedroom and the bathroom. The lighting is minimal, though enough to see as I'm not a cave dweller. The drapes, when drawn create a very dark room, however if opened the large window overlooks a park below and light flooding the room can make it seem airy and open. I have a four poster bed. Along one lengthy wall under the window is a bench that is padded with pillows scattered here and there. At varying points along the bench, a lid raises and inside is where all my favorite toys lay. Along another wall is a raised dais. The dais is tiled and those tiles cost a fortune and were exported from Italy. I saw the tiles on line, and saved for three years for them. While I had to sell my right arm for the tiles, a former girlfriends husband is a craftsman and he built the dais and tiled it for me. It's very easy to keep clean – well, it is for me as I don't exactly do the cleaning, but I've heard it's easy to clean. The room is cool year round. It serves me well in the summer months, and during the winter, I place a down comforter on the bed. I sleep much better in a cool room. In any case, he is commanded to lie down and of course he does. His erection bobs and waits hopefully, almost begging for attention and his nipples are erect. I move to my bench and I gather items I'd like. He is so very simple, his needs so very base. He is quite submissive, but only sexually. He knows me so very well, and with him, I can let my guard down. My commands with him are simple. Like a person that hates a spoiled surprise, he complies when I say close your eyes. He doesn't need a mask, it's much harder to keep your eyes shut. My nails tease along his jaw line, zigging and zagging, lingering here and there along the bone line ever so lightly. My fingers trail down his throat and I press along either side of his throat. I don't linger there, but I greatly enjoy letting him know that I could, and would exert pressure if it made me happy. We've been there and done that and will likely do breath play again, but not tonight. I have other ideas. I flick my sharp nails over his nipples and his head shifts gently from side to side and he moans slightly. I pull his left nipple and put on clover clamps and he jumps slightly and is better prepared once I apply the clamps to the right nipple. In my hand I hold a favorite toy. It's a dildo that is perhaps 8 inches long, black, and has a diameter of perhaps 6 inches. It's attached on its opposite side to a smaller version of a penis which is used as a gag. There's a strap that has a buckle on the end for placing the device around the head. I tell him to lift his head, and I lean in to tell him that I have a special surprise for him, a tasty sucker for him. His tongue flickers out and I giggle at him. He is momentarily embarrassed, but that passes quickly as I slip the small penis into his mouth and buckle it into place. Obscenely, the large penis is jutting out of his mouth. He is so slutty looking, the penis in his mouth huge, yet vying for attention is his cock, huge, slippery with pre-cum. I tease the clover clamps on his nipples and tug the chain between them. My other hand slips to his penis and my nails tease his cock head. He goes nearly crazy, not with pain, but with desire as he struggles and writhes without moving away. I move onto the bed, my bum facing his head, and my legs straddle his head. I mount the cock he has in his mouth. I take my time, inserting the head slowly, adjusting, sliding up and down and slipping into pleasure. I tell him not to move his head and to remind him of the control I have over him, I take the chain between the clamps into my hand and tug gently. Behind the small penis in his mouth, I hear his moaning. My body finds the base of the dildo buried inside me. I move slowly, occasionally tugging on the chain. I bend down, my body draped over his and I remove the clamps. He is no longer moaning, he is screaming. His screams are muffled by the penis. I pinch his nipples, rake my nipples over them. I rise and ride the dildo faster now, my fingers playing with my clit and alternately pinching my own nipples. Next to me on the bed is a small flogger and as I ride and use him in this humiliating way, I use the flogger on his cock. Soon his moaning returns and he's forgotten the pain in his nipples – now just a memory. My orgasm builds and explodes and I'm sure I have at least one more in me. I slow down my movements and glide easily up and down. My strokes with the little flogger become steadier and harsher. I tell him to begin moving his head in a circular manner, and he does. I'm done working for the moment, just letting pleasure consume me, take me. He moves his head from side to side and then in a circle. I ride my wave until I cum hard. We both pause and I lift myself off the dildo and unbuckle the strap. He thanks me profusely, and I lay next to him panting. He holds my hand and eventually moves to his side and holds me close. We don't speak – there really isn't much to say. Once I've recovered I go and clean myself and return to the bedroom. I slip on a silk robe I have that is beautiful, comfortable and even has the ability to make me look good. I hover next to him as he dozes on the bed, not touching him. I feel like a little laughing – at least on my part – is in order. My lips are near his ear and I shout "GET UP, WE'RE NOT DONE." He levitates and I cannot help but laugh. At first he isn't laughing but then as he stands he starts to laugh and apologizes. I lead him by holding onto and pulling his cock and thus him to the dais. On the dais is my chair. It's a grand piece, made of cherry, roomy, comfortable, a high back, precisely placed arm rests, the seat covered in soft green velvet. I release his cock, and he waits for me to sit and get comfortable on my chair. My robe falls open and he kneels in front of me. I spread my legs, guide his head, and he buries his face into me, his tongue lapping and licking. His hands reach for my nipples. I lay back, totally basking in pleasure. I feel my ecstasy build quickly and it's not long before I push him away. He thanks me for letting him please me. He backs up carefully, and rests back on his calves. His cock is still huge, dripping pre-cum. He smiles up at me, his brown eyes twinkling. He is relaxed, ready for anything, but not demanding in the slightest. He knows I hate pushiness and do-me players. Right next to my hand is an umbrella stand, and rather than holding umbrellas it holds a wide variety of crops and canes. I choose a cane. I love the cane. I love the way it whistles or hums in the air just before it stings the flesh. I love the welts I cause. I love scraping a nail or dragging a knife into those marks. I'm fine with bleeders though I'm not always striving for that. Tonight there is some demon inside me that needs exorcising, and this man can take what I deliver. Trust me when I say I can be gentler. I tease him, telling him that I'll aim for his thighs, but it may hurt a bit if I hit his balls. He squirms slightly. "yes Ma'am, that would hurt terribly" he says. "However", I say "your cock is fair game". He relaxes immediately, and is apparently relieved as he lets a big breath out and spreads his legs. I start gently tapping his thighs quickly. People that play with me know that they have nothing to worry about when the cane or a crop moves quickly. It's when I slow down that I'm deadly, mean, and hell bent on causing discomfort. My cane taps away, and I get in a few good strokes on his cock. He actually loves a cock beating. Early in my days I welted his cock completely via stupidity on my part and he's been an inadvertent addict since. As he says of his current cock welting experiences, "that hurt lasts for days, rendering my cock useless except to pee, the last thing I want is an erection". I've been known to send him pornography and leave very detailed intimate phone messages to try to incite an erection. I digress I fear. I change canes to a thinner one, reed-like. It's nasty, it's harsh and it will hurt him. "Arms up" I command. His arms go behind his head. "Spread more" I say, and he does. "Close your eyes now." He does The cane whistles and strikes him across both thighs. He winces and out of his mouth comes a very long stream of obscenities. I'm used to this and in the course of sex or play, any words work for me, though he knows he may never call me names. He can curse as much as he likes and I'm not offended. The cane rises and falls making streaks and welts. Upon occasion he sobs, but he never loses control. He thanks me when I pause and begs for more. Over an hour I'm very harsh, there is nothing soft, no caresses and no mercy and I decide to quit when he begins to bleed and his tears fall. All is quiet now, except for I am aware of the power of his emotions. His tears fall, and I set down the cane and tell him that I am done hurting him. His hands move from behind his head, and he covers his face and sobs until I reach for him. He lays his head in my lap and I tell him how proud I am of him, and of how fulfilling this was for me. He calms down soon enough. He sits back again, his head bowed. He needs a moment or two and lifts his head indicating that he is fine. He is too proud to show this side of himself for long. I don't need him to cry, but nor do I care if he does cry – I know that's some people's fantasy, but if he needs to cry, he surely will and in my heart I believe this provides some sort of purge for him. I don't think less of him, nor do I feel he's less of a man. I lift my cane from the floor and prod his now limp cock back into action. I don't welt it or hurt it; I just thump it a few times to remind it that I'm not necessarily done. A smile reaches his lips. Men are so easy I think. "Let's play a game" I say, very enthusiastically. He makes a tiny face and I laugh. When he hears me laugh, he looks at me and laughs too and says "bugger me now why don't you?" which makes me laugh harder. He loses at all games – that's the point of course. "To your feet" I command him. He rises and stretches. I disappear for a minute and return with a small cup, a childs cup and I place it about 8 centimeters away from him at his feet. I sit down and smile at him. "Stroke yourself" I tell him. At a very young age I appreciated masturbation. I was sexual with myself at about age 11 or 12. When I had the chance I'd watch myself in a mirror and when I orgasmed I loved watching my pussy throb. I don't watch myself anymore, but I love to watch men masturbate. There is something quite powerful in a man holding his – or another man's – stiff dick and moving it such a way that the cock twitches and explodes. I find it very hot. He teases himself for a bit and I'm happy to let him take his time as I sit and sip wine. He eventually picks up the pace and I watch him stroke himself and I focus on how pleasurable masturbation is and how great it is to watch him do this. He is very focused on the job and I encourage him, but I also, stand up and circle around him, bending over to nibble on his ear to distract him. I even crack a joke, and he just laughs at it, but it doesn't slow him a bit. I move the cup and as I move the cup he tries to slide his knees and change his position to keep the cup in front of him. He isn't laughing now, he's hell bent and I'm very much amused at this game. Finally he explodes, desperately trying to spurt into the cup, and of course he misses. I laugh at him, push his head to the floor in front of him, take my foot and lift his midsection so that he knows to present his ass. My cane whistles upon his ass. There is no slow movement to let him assimilate the pain, the blows rain down upon him, the welts rising very fast. He curses again and again and he says no so many times I lose count, but he doesn't move, and when I'm done he says thank you. I sit back down, take up my glass and wait for him to gather his composure again. This time he isn't crying, he's simply worn out. He lies prone on the floor in front of me, face up. He turns his head and looks at me. We smile a bit and I ask him if he thinks he'll survive and he claims he will. I thank him, and we make small talk while we review and relax. In time he sits up, and asks me if I'm hungry. I tell him yes, but I have no energy to go out, that he can order Chinese take away and either go and get it or have it delivered. He asks after what I want, and he orders. He puts on a pair of shorts and we meet in the living room. Music comes on and we discuss the latest play we'd like to see and upcoming concerts we'd like to go to, but we make no dates. We don't date. Upon occasion we see each other in the community in which we live, we smile and wave, but we don't know each other socially at all and we're both good with that. In time the Chinese food arrives and we feast. Afterwards I can only think of how tired I am and that I want a bath and really he's served his purpose. It's time for him to leave, and thankfully he doesn't have to be asked to go. He does inquire if I need anything; he's such a generous soul. I ask him to draw a bath for me and to get me a lemon ice water and fresh towels. He does so, thanks me profusely and he leaves. The Tryst I've written this in two sections in a slightly experimental style. The first is deliberately in the past tense and the second in the present tense. It just seems to be better that way. I hope you agree and enjoy it although it is quite brief. Part 1 This is a story about you and me. You know who you are. I wrote a story. I posted it to an erotic story site. You did not really like it but it aroused some sort of interest in you and you sent me a brief compliment. I sent back a brief reply. Later I cursed myself for not taking longer over it. Perhaps I should have said more - but then I was always more of a chatter than a chatter up. Anyway you did reply and we started a bit of a dialogue each reply getting more explicit. It became addictive for me logging on as soon as I got home and last thing at night and first thing in the morning to see if you had replied to my latest. We described ourselves to each other. I was not sure whether you were telling the truth because it sounded too good to be true but I did not mind if you had. After a few exchanges we exchanged our online chat details and started to send very explicit messages to each other. I even used my work PC carefully deleting all my cache and history - paranoid in case I got discovered. I also had to do the same at home so that my extremely jealous wife would not suspect. If I didn't toss myself off when chatting to you I did it soon afterwards although I was too buttoned up and self-conscious to admit it. Were you doing the same? You sent me photos of yourself. I loved the ones of your large breasts in your tight white bra. Your face was always a bit obscured and the photos were genuinely amateur which re-assured me (as well as turning me on). I was a bit reluctant to send any back. What if they appeared all over the Internet? What if you were really some psychopathic bunny boiler who would track me down and stab me? Anyway I did send some. I sucked my belly in to make it look like I had more of a six-pack than a beer barrel. Surreptitiously I printed off your photos large scale, hid them in my briefcase and took them out to look at from time to time when at work. Once or twice I had to go and relieve the sexual tension. I fantasised all day about meeting you and making love to you. I especially thought about when I had sex with my wife. I had a photo of you pointing up your skirt and showing your thighs and a hint of panties. One time during my monthly hump, the image flashed in my mind and I shot my load before I really should have. My wife grumbled that she thought I'd passed that stage after all these years. I had to finish her off by hand. In addition to all the sex talk and innuendo we also swapped some ordinary day to day information about where we worked and what we did. I took forever to suggest anything real. I let you know that I'd never cheated on my wife. You said that you had once cheated on your husband. There was a pause in our flow of messages. I took the plunge: "I'd like to commit adultery with you," I wrote. "So would I," you replied. We lived about 300 miles away from each other so a casual meeting was out of the question. However I sometimes worked away from home and I suggested that we did meet up half way. I'm in a scheme with the Holiday Inn whereby I get points for staying with them and these points eventually can be traded in for a free stay. You readily agreed although the venue we agreed on was only about 40 miles for you. I booked some holiday and told my wife that I was going on a short residential training course that had been arranged at short notice. I could not think straight for thought of meeting you. I was also very guilty about cheating on my wife but lust is lust and cannot be denied. I rang her just before I got to the hotel and told her I was going into an afternoon training session that would last into the evening so that she would not ring. We had arranged to meet up beforehand at a bar you told me was nearby. How did you know, had you brought other lovers here? It was mid-afternoon when I got there. You were already there in your little blue Mini car. It was a bit odd meeting you for the first time when I already knew so many intimate details about you. I had tried to keep my mind open and had no expectations but you were better than I expected you to be - if that makes any sense. We kissed and went into the bar for a chat. It seemed only good manners to get to know each other before we fucked. Besides it was obviously a good idea for you to check that I was not some psycho-pervert before taking things further. You were both sensibly and sexily dressed. Not too sexy enough to look as though you were on the pull but sexy enough to show more than a hint of cleavage and your lovely legs were well on display under a skirt that came down to just above your knees, flaring slightly and showing enough of your thighs to make my loins tingle. Your eyes had a knowingly sexy glint and they met mine frequently. I don't know what your initial impressions of me were but you didn't do a runner so I presumed I was in. After an initial awkwardness lasting about half a minute we were soon chatting and laughing. We had a drink but did not get anywhere near drunk. I made you laugh quite a bit and in the middle of one of my tales you suddenly leaned over and kissed me and we snogged like teenagers. It seemed that we had suddenly remembered the real reason we were here or was it rather that we had broken the ice and decided that we liked each other as well as just wanting to fuck each other? We left the bar and drove a short way to the hotel and checked in. I was a little self conscious as we did so wondering should I put Mr and Mrs Smith on the register (silly thought since I paid by credit card and my name is not Smith). You fussed around a bit hanging your jacket up. I drew the curtains and then sat on the bed watching you. I was ready for you. Part 2 So you've faffed around enough, you take off your jacket and turn around and smile at me with that sexy smile of yours. I can see your bra showing through your white blouse. You look drop dead gorgeous and I take in the sight of the full swell of your breasts and your lovely legs. I stand up and walk towards you. I'm so excited with sexual tension but also at the thought of being intimate with a stranger. You look up at me and we kiss slowly at first; I taste your lips again. Then we kiss more passionately and hungrily. Your tongue meets mine and passes into my mouth. We have not laid a finger on each other as yet but now I draw you to me, one hand around your back and the other on your hip. You hold me by the waist and I feel the softness of your breasts pressing against my rib cage. We kiss it seems for ever and I lose sense of time but we have to surface for air and I am only conscious of your warmth and softness, your delicate fragrance and the yearning in my loins. I stoop my head to kiss your neck, nuzzling your ear and ever so gently moving your collar down to bite without marking, your neck and throat. My hands come up and cup your breasts feeling their heavy fleshy weight. I rub my thumbs over where I suppose your nipples might be. I am only millimetres out and I feel them softly rise through the delicate cotton fabric of your blouse and the bra underneath. You put your hands on my chest and I stop grazing your neck and watch you as you unbutton my shirt while I continue fondling your breasts. You hug me tighter, kissing my moderately hairy chest and then kiss my nipples holding them in your teeth gently but it hurts a little. I pinch yours in return and we both smile. I unbutton your blouse feasting my eyes on your cleavage. I wish this moment could go on forever but you tug off my shirt completely. You're a little impatient and want to get down to business. You don't understand but I have to stand back and gaze in awe at the beautiful sight of you standing there in just your bra and skirt. The curves of your breasts fill out the white elastane and display your gorgeous globes of flesh. I could stand and look at you forever but that would be selfish. You draw me to you again and I feel your breasts encased temporarily in the lacy white material against my chest. My stiff cock press against your belly is now in urgent need of attention but you put your hands behind me firmly grasping and then fondling my buttock cheeks. I can do nothing but put my hands behind your back and lightly scratch and rake your back with my fingertips. It only seems natural while I am there to release your bra catch. Your breasts spill out but are still quite erect and don't simply flop down to your belly. The bed is just behind me and I sit on the edge drawing you closer so I can suckle on your breasts. Your nipples are pink and erect but the aureoles darker and nearly purple. My hands come up behind and up your skirt as I stroke the tops of your thighs which are bare, you have no stockings on. I touch your rather skimpy panties. I am tempted to rip them and hurry things along but I'm no teenager and there's plenty of time. You move on to the bed and I quickly peel of my pants and kick off my shoes and socks. We lie in each other arms kissing and exploring each other's semi-clothed body with our fingers, probing, scratching, gently caressing. At last you put your fingers around my cock although it is still clothed in my thin cotton briefs. You find the buttons and are swiftly inside, squeezing my balls but not too hard and running your fingers up and down my shaft. My hands are under your skirt again this time at the front and I am gently stoking the tops of your thighs now. I squeeze a finger around the crotch of your panties and start to stroke your hair and feel your soft and definitely moist lips against the back of my finger. I wander and probe and feel your wetness spreading as I glide my finger gently in and around your clit. Your panties are definitely in the way now and I draw my finger out and ease them down over your legs so that I now have unfettered access to your sacred place. Your hand grasps my member firmly and you kiss me deeply on the mouth again. I draw my finger up and down your pussy lips we break off kissing and you look deep into my eyes as I take you down the road to where you want to go. I kiss your neck and throat as I ever so gently insert my finger into your moist little hole. My thumb comes up and starts to stroke around but not yet on your little button. You moan now and I stop your cries with another deep kiss. I insert another finger and work them up to a slow rhythm inside your hole as my thumb teases your clit. In and out, in and out and all around, my fingers and thumb are now slippery wet. Your hips start to rock slightly now and I keep my fingers and thumb still but stiff to allow you to guide the pace to your final destination. As your thrusts get more vigorous I take up the action again, rubbing your clitoral hood with my thumb in time with your movements. We increase the pace and vigour and you pound your groin against my fingers and thumb. You cry out incoherently and I kiss you savagely, crushing your lips against mine and my tongue thrust down your throat, stifling your groans. I feel your flesh pulsing and throbbing against my wet fingers. Your fingers dig into my back as the orgasm takes you and your body tenses. I ease off slowly with my handwork and you whimper as the spasms subside. We kiss again and you cuddle me and we lie in each others arms without speaking for a while. Cuddling you is very nice but I hadn't had my wicked way yet and my erection is starting to droop through lack of attention. You start fondling my cock and it springs back to life. Raising yourself up you kiss me on my lips and move to my neck, nibbling and biting gently. You move to my chest tracing damp circles with your tongue around my nipples. My cock is straining at the leash and you reward it by taking it in your mouth, your lips and tongue gently worrying and teasing my foreskin and tickling my bell end. It is exquisite. You raise your right knee over my chest and kneel astride me. We are nearly in the full 69 position. You still have your skirt on and I raise the hem so that I can see your beautiful snatch. Have you shaved it a little? On closer inspection you have! And I can see your cute little bum. I cannot resist you and I plunge my face into your warm wetness, my tongue darting inside you tasting your taste and my nose filled with your tangy passionate scent. My cock remains buried in your mouth and you suck on it gently and then more vigorously. I run my tongue up and down your clitoral lips until it aches with the strain. I find your button again and run my tongue all around it. Your juice runs out over my face and I feel overpowered. I attack you in a frenzy of tongue action hoping to make you come before my loins surge. I can hear you moaning slightly but my cock is in your mouth and your thighs are round my ears so the sound is muffled. I pull you down so that your snatch grinds against my face. I can hardly breathe. Instead my lungs are filled with your scent and my mouth with your taste. I can hold back no more and I spurt into your mouth. I feel you quiver over my face so I guess that I peaked just before you did although you continue to gently suck me until I have given all that I have. I lap you in turn as your own orgasm dies away. I sink back on to the pillow, momentarily exhausted. You turn around, smiling and licking your lips. I can't believe it but you've swallowed it all. You snuggle up to me on the bed and we cuddle. A very smug and self-satisfied thought comes into my head. "Technically speaking we haven't yet committed adultery," I say. "But we will... and quite soon," you say. We smile and kiss each other again.