A Single Room for Two

My head's still throbbing as a ceaseless reminder of last night. Why do I seem to forget, every time, that drinking heavily the night before work is a bad idea? I'm stood here, behind the reception desk of the Aregarna Hotel, in this horrendously tight, although wonderfully sexy -- which is why I bought it of course --, figure-hugging red pencil skirt and jacket; all smiles to the faceless guests that amble by in their shorts and gaudy short-sleeved shirts. My pristine blonde hair is partially draped over the front of my dress, make-up accentuating my "perfect jaw-line" and the fingernails of a porn star; they're almost more work than they're worth, perhaps I should consider fakes? It's for the guests, of course. They like to see a pretty thing behind the desk when booking in, it's good for business. I don't mind it so much; a little flirt, a sly smile, my hand stroking that pen, door knob or key fob for just a teasingly split-second too long. Maybe I just like the power my good looks have over men? I don't mind it so much, apart from these wicked stilettos making my feet feel like they're in an ever-tightening vice all day! The sound of them clacking as I walk on the sand-brown marble floor draws attention to my legs though, my lovely lovely legs. I work hard for these girls, look at them boys, appreciate the work these cost me. Heel-toe heel-toe; one leg directly in front of the other, shoulders back, ensnare them with my walk.

Maybe if I weren't such a tease and actually started looking for a man, rather than reasserting the power I have to myself every now and then with a quick fling, maybe then I'd have a partner, a husband potential, that dreamy tall, dark and handsome millionaire! Oh, but then there's Mr. Atkinson. Such a dull name for such a hunky specimen. He's so perfectly shaped with those cheekbones chiselled by God and shoulders that could carry the world, my world. Why are all the good ones always married? I want him, yet that admittedly-beautiful bitch of his secured the prize long before I even met their family for the first time. Our eyes met though, the last time they checked in here. The children were giving their mother some trouble with the suitcases which enabled that briefest of non-verbal connections between us; I could have melted. This hangover's going to last the whole damn day!

It's evening now, six forty-five. Still, my hangover's faded and almost gone now but not after spending a day with an empty bin can under the desk in case of emergency vomiting. It's typical that Diane needed to take her shift off the day I feel so awful. But oh how fate loves me. In through those large white entrance arches walks the perfect form of Mr. Atkinson. My body is brought to attention in an instant as my desire to impress shoots a sexy-posture forming jolt through me; is that a reflex? Boobs out, weight slightly over to one foot, curved sexy smile, head down slightly and a lustful stare as he approaches. Got him! He walks straight to me with a recognising smile. I beam at him; what hangover? 'Mr. Atkinson, welcome back' I say. Is showing that I remember him a weakness? His retuned welcome using my name stops me from caring. 'One of our family suites; a double connecting to a twin room again, sir?' I ask. The question of whether he's alone or not laced between the lines. "No thanks" is his reply - it's just him tonight. I feel so suddenly washed with nervous excitement at the possibility of stealing him, that I fail to notice I'm still holding the pen I've offered as he tries to take it from me. I snap out of my daze to see him notice my loss of focus. The edges of that wonderful mouth turn up ever so slightly to indicate his knowing. It arouses me.

'May I show you to your room, Mr. Atkinson?' I ask with desperate hope for a positive reply. "Please" is his simple one-word response. The subtle tap-tap of my heels guides the way to the elevator; my red pencil skirt is so tight around my buttocks that he can't help but look as he follows behind. We take the elevator up several floors and walk down the corridor to his room. The whirring of the wheels on his case assure me that he's close behind as I lead. I unlock the door and walk in, leaving it open for him to follow.

'This is one of our best double suites, Mr. Atkinson' I state with my back to him, knowing he's inside. I hear the door close behind as he says in that deep manly voice "call me Michael." I turn around and he's stood right before me, half a foot taller even while I'm in my heels. He looks into my eyes as I look directly back at him; wanting, my enlarged pupils saying 'yes' to his unasked question. The silent moment lasts long enough to reassure him that I want what he does. He begins to unbutton his shirt still staring into my eyes. He says nothing as he removes the light garment, tossing it onto a chair to his side. His body is muscular and well-maintained. His chest is a little hairy but I like that on a man. I stand there transfixed; my desire for him being realised has me lost in a moment of surreal disbelief. His left arm wraps around my waist as his right comes up to my face, a palm resting on my left side. It's warm and powerful and he pulls me towards him. Our mouths slowly meet and we kiss.

Like a dam breaking, all of our built-up desire for one another crashes through our accepted barriers. My arms link around his neck and we kiss continually, pulling each other tightly close. 'Michael' I whisper seductively between lip contact. Our tongues meet and dance, or fight, I can't tell, but both want one another desperately. Our kissing quickly awakens him as I feel a large vertical mound form in the crotch of his trousers. It presses against me awkwardly but I know what it is and so don't mind. His kisses continue as I bring my hands down to unbuckle his belt, pulling it free from the rivets. We part.

"I've wanted you since our...since my first visit here" he declares; I ignore the corrected reference to his wife. I tell him I've wanted him too as his hands unbutton my jacket and blouse. My hands drop to his pants with a jingle of my golden bracelets and I forcibly unbutton and unzip them. He pulls open my loosened top to reveal my black silk bra and caresses me with firm hands. My head rolls back slightly as I push the rest of my body forward to give myself to him. He suddenly picks me up and throws me onto the bed. I scream slightly from the shock but am quickly silenced by his towering form above me, hands and knees either side of me as he lowers his head to kiss again. His taste is lovely. My hands stroke that muscular chest, nails drawing lines down it to his briefs. His bulging packet is clearly etched in the tight fabric as the elastic tries to contain him. Forbidding me access, he slides back and stands again at the foot of the bed; the head of his penis now poking up through the elastic strap of his underwear.

He kneels down on the foot of the bed and places his hands on the tops of my feet, my heels still strapped to them. His powerful warm hands then, with firm pressure, journey slowly up my naked legs to the base of my skirt at the knee line. His hands continue under the skirt, taking the material up with them as it folds over the top of my thick shiny black belt. My matching black lace panties are now in his sights. I don't even notice as my legs part for him; another reflex? His finger strokes the material of my panties - it's thin enough to allow me to feel his touch through them. As he strokes over my clitoris I let out a deep breath as I'm jolted from his first touch there. He quickly finds that I'm slightly wet already and bends down, inhaling deeply. I redden with embarrassment at his lewd act; 'who has the power now?' I ask myself. His tongue then strokes my underwear against my vulva with compensating pressure for the lace barrier. I moan softly with each lap. His hands then reach to the sides of my panties and he pulls them off me slowly, my legs tucking inward to allow him. He pulls them off over my heels and then sniffs them in his hand, looking up at me as he does so. My eyes narrow and my lips purse with a wanting smile, accentuating their fullness. My sexy expression begs him to come to me. My legs open again.

His warm tongue laps firmly at my now-naked clitoris. Every touch sends shivers through me; it's wonderful. My eyes are closed in ecstasy but I can still see him. I think he likes this, I think it's something he's not done with his wife, or it's long since been abandoned from their infrequent sexual affection. Oh God! Forget his wife, he's mine right now and I'm letting him do this, I want him to do this and it's wonderful. 'Don't stop Michael, oh please don't stop!' I say aloud and it spurs him on; he likes my begging. His middle finger strokes my body's natural lubricant around the supple pink flesh of my womanhood, teasing my entry. His tongue flicks me, strokes me, sucks me and penetrates me. His ceaseless oral stimulation seems to never end and I'm his slave while he works me. I moan with increased volume as the lewd noises of his tongue and saliva no longer sound embarrassing. Words cease to form, or even formulate in my mind. I can't take any more as my body gives up resisting. My breaths are heavy and my legs begin to tense and twinge. He notices my building climax and laps faster. This magnificent man knows just what to do. My hands pull tightly at the bed covers as if to rip them apart, my back arches, breasts out as the sensation comes, comes, cums! ........ahhhhhhh........... ohhhhhhh..... Michael!!! I release a wave of warm juices as he continues to lick me through my orgasm. I'm muted by the sensation and lost for words. I breath heavily as I come down, eyes closed, hands slowly releasing the clumps of bed covers.

As soon as I open my eyes again, for the first time since my climax, he's above me, the shadowing monolith of a man; all muscle, hair, eyes and naked gorgeousness. His underwear has been removed and so all I see is that solid, handsome, chiselled face and his incredible rock-hard penis pointing straight at me; its target. I see wanting in his eyes, there's wanting in mine; I'm his bitch in-heat ready to mount. He kisses me and there's passion behind it. The affection separates us from the carnal procreation of animals and I'm a woman again, about to make love. My arms surround him, embracing him and I pretend he's all mine. 'I want you' I whisper as our mouths part. He removes my blouse and bra, tossing them to the chair where his clothes lie. I unfasten my belt and skirt pulling them free also; just my sexy red stilettos and gold jewellery remain adorning my body. He sits up, knees either side of mine, taking in the sight of me. I cover my breasts with my right arm and crotch with my left hand in a moments shyness. He surveys me; blonde hair sprawled beneath my head; striking red lips; gold necklace draped over my cleavage; gold bracelets on both arms; long red nails and the tight curves and contours of my well-exercised body.

He takes my hands and forces them back onto the bed covers, either side of my head; there's no resistance. He kisses my neck as he lowers his crotch to mine and I feel the warmth of his manhood press against me for the first time. He brings a hand back to guide himself into place and then slowly slides forward. I'm sensitive now but he's gentle; slow; perfect. My hands grip his back; those firm muscles clawed at with my trained fingernails. He pushes further inside me. His size is unlike any I've encountered before and it's a little painful. If he were not so accomplished at warming a girl up I might not be able to accommodate him. But I like that he's big, it makes me feel as though he's having a part of me that I've not given away to anyone before. It makes me feel closer to him.

He begins to withdraw slowly, then pushes forward again; a perfect transition and rhythm. His head moves to the side of my neck and that expert tongue of his returns to my skin. I judder from the touch and it quickly becomes a deep exhale from the depths of my lungs. His left hand secures my breast tweaking and playing at my nipple. It stiffens in response. His crotch moves in slow, penetrating motions, a little deeper each time. His tongue draws a line along the sensual weak area of my neck following the line between the base and the back of my ear. Pelvis, fingers and tongue all work together to ensure I'm stimulated. I'm the centre of his attention and I'm in physical heaven. Who says men can't multi-task?!

I'm accustomed to his manhood now and suitably lubricated to accept him comfortably. His movements become deeper and faster and the rhythm makes the thrusts and withdrawals feel like a single continual sensation. He transfers his warm moist tongue from stroking my ear down to the nipple of my left breast. His lips add pressure and his tongue strokes me in circles between his plucks and sucking. I hold the back of his head with both hands and allow myself to be vulnerable to him.

'Let me get on top' I ask and he responds by withdrawing and rolling onto his back. The bed is large so there is plenty of space. I clamber over him straddling his waist, my hands resting on his chest and seductive naughty smile on my face. I stretch out my arms keeping my hands in place and bend my legs to move my body back, my head lowering towards his crotch. Eyes still fixed on his, I breath a warm exaggerated breath onto the shaft of his throbbing cock. It glimmers in the light from my fluids that still coat it. I lick slowly from the base of his balls all the way up to the head, then wrap my red lips sensually around the tip and slide his member into my mouth. I hear a deep moan from above notifying me of my partners satisfaction. My hand jingles with my bracelets as I pump at his length, letting the moving skin slide in and out of my mouth above. My tongue circles with pressure around the engorged head before I slide right down, taking him as far into my throat as my gagging reflex will allow. His dick's thick and stiff inside me; I lift my head to force its retreat. Removing him from my mouth, I circle my tongue around his shaft in a spiral motion once more, then, using the breadth of my tongue, begin a slow long lap up his entire manhood, sliding my body up behind. My oral muscle flicks off his dick onto his defined six-pack as his penis slides between my breasts. I continue to stroke my tongue up his body as his moist hot cock strokes down mine. My tongue follows the curve of his neck up to his lips, sliding inside his mouth to meet his tongue as we kiss again.

'My body misses you already' I whisper naughtily into his ear, having regained some of my power over him, and then slide down slowly, guiding that impressive cock with my hand back into my awaiting moist vagina. We both moan deeply as it re-enters, the new angle offering a fresh sensation. I sit up and begin to rock back and forth atop him while rotating my hips. I close my eyes with the pleasure and my head rolls back. I place my hands on his legs, leaning back to allow more movement of my crotch. His strong manly hands grip my waist as he too moves his crotch to match my rhythm. We reach a perfect harmony as the sexual sensations racing through my body are incredible.

I lean forward and drop down to kiss him, my chest pressing against his. Our tongues entwine as he continues to push his big wonderful penis in and out of me. He gently then eases my body off him to the side and rolls me over, my back to him and me on my side. He manoeuvres himself dick-first, sliding it back inside me as I melt again. He then pulls his chest against my back, our legs wrapped around each other's, his hand on my thigh, my arm hooked up around his head and I turn to kiss him as his thrusts continue. The position is intimate and I fall in love with him again. As he holds me and fucks me slowly, I feel as though I could be like this with him forever.

We change positions several times as we continue to make love and I feel the tension mounting inside him. He's atop me once more, the missionary position, my legs and heeled feet wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck as I receive him. His breaths are heavier now and his eyes more focused. The frequency of his deep moans alerts me to his on coming orgasm. The perfect rhythmic repetition of his thrusts in this position is bringing me too to the point of climax; the wonderful contours and girth of his penis stroking my sensitive pussy, deep inside my body. He suddenly pushes deeper than he's yet been, as though he was hiding an inch of cock from me the whole time. I moan loudly with the additional length and he increases speed simultaneously. My hands drop back in submission as he pummels me, thrusting deeply with ferocious speed. The feeling inside my body is amassing like a gathering crowd of tingling warm sensations and I feel myself heating within. His eyes close as he tenses and I know he's reaching breaking point. 'I'm safe' I whisper between moans, 'cum inside me'. This seems to invigorate him further and he fucks me like a possessed beast. My head stirs as all my focus is on the incredible feeling between my legs and inside my vagina. I clench the bedding again and moan constantly as he too moans with the mounting pressure. He still pumps and pumps and pumps as I hit my peak, my body arching, pushing me into him as I cum, orgasming with soundless screams. Moments later he erupts inside me pouring his semen into my womb. I feel the hot thick fluid flow into me as his penis swells with each burst. He fights to keep pushing his body into mine as his energy flows out with his seed. He slows.

He holds me tightly as the last of his sperm makes its fruitless journey and our breathing is loud and almost vaporous from our heat and sweat. He kisses me and I him as my body too slows down from its climax. He lies on top of me, still inside, though flaccid now, simply holding and kissing me. I feel as though we're lovers and that this is not our first time. I don't let myself think otherwise. We caress, hold and adore each other for that moment and it's perfect.

The End.

Written by Oliver William Bennett © 24/11/2009, all rights reserved.