Martina's Tour Guide Ch. 01

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Martina Hingis takes Dan to her hotel room.
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Virtually everyone at the party seemed to be in their element, chatting, sipping drinks, hardly thanking the waiters who circled constantly with plates of canapés. They were a different group to me, socially as well as financially. A rich patron of a charity for the mentally ill was hosting this "do" at a posh London hotel, a thank you for all the people who worked for the charity. I write a lot of their advertising and promotional material, and I suppose I had a right to be there, but I felt like a fish out of water. My normal night out is a few pints down the pub and a kebab on the way home. Here I was, dressed in my cousin's tux, an awfully tight fit, watching a group of minor celebrities and dreaming of a nice pint of bitter to replace this warm champagne.

I'd wandered over to the back of the room, trying to avoid conversation, and was looking at the silent auction prizes, dreaming of having the money to buy even the smallest of them, when I heard a voice, soft and feminine, but with that distinctive harsh precision of a native German speaker. She was speaking quietly, and apparently to no-one in particular.

"Mmmm... Greece in July. Maybe I'll actually be able to go this year." I heard her quite clearly, even against the hubbub of the party. She must have been very close behind me, and it seemed almost natural to respond, although, of course, it was rather rude.

"You should go. It is an amazing country. I've just come back from spending six months out there." As soon as I said it, I was surprised. Until that point, I'd been rendered almost dumb by awkwardness, and here I was ambushing a complete stranger who was talking to herself. I glanced over my shoulder. She didn't seem to be upset; she was looking at me with interest.

"Six months in Greece. Wow. Were you working?" I nodded in reply.

"Sort of. I was doing research at a few archaeological sites. I work translating ancient texts. When I'm travelling, though, I try to keep things easy, save lots of time for holidaying. So why can't you usually go to Greece?"

She looked confused. I kicked myself mentally for allowing my conversation to jump around like this, a terrible habit of mine.

"I'm sorry?" she said, and I attempted an explanation.

"You said "Maybe I'll be able to go this year." So I assumed you can't go normally. Why not?"

"Oh, I see!" she said, her face clearing. "Normally, I can't get even a day off in summer. I'm a tennis player. I'm injured this year, though, so I hope to have a few weeks away from it all." I almost dropped my glass. Suddenly, I realised what I had wandered into. I was having a conversation with Martina Hingis. This evening was getting better.

When I was starting at university, Martina was a sensation. She was the first of the "new generation" in women's tennis, a skilful, powerful player who was winning titles from the age of fifteen. I was entranced at the time, and although her tennis was no longer the finest in the world, I still watched her whenever I could. There was something about her that drove me wild. Her athletic lifestyle meant that like all tennis stars, she had perfect legs, but Martina also had a pleasant, girl next door face and a bubbly personality that was attractive both on the court and during interviews. I also loved the clothes she wore on court – nothing tight or blatantly sexual like certain others, but timelessly sexy billowy white skirts. Tonight, however, she was dressed to kill, in a long, red dress, split to the thigh on both sides, and hugging her figure very tightly. She wore minimal make up and only a thin gold necklace. Nothing flashy, nothing over the top. Simple, classical and erotic.

"Of course," I said, trying not to sound to excited "I recognise you. I've been watching you on TV for years." She smiled a practiced smile.

"I didn't think you were a tennis fan. I guess I can't always avoid being recognised, even now."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I didn't know you worked for the charity."

"Only in Switzerland. I'm working to set up a new branch. But you can read all about that on the Internet. Think of this as a night off. You were telling me about Greece. I would love to go, but I don't have anyone to go with."

"Couldn't you go on your own? Or with your mother?"

"I don't think that the Greek beaches are designed to be shared with mothers!" She was mocking me, but nicely. "I want a man to go with. I'm sick of holidays on my own, I've been in London alone for three days, and I get bored too easily."

I saw my chance. I couldn't just let a fantasy walk out of my life after a brief conversation.

"I've got a few days before they expect me back at the university. Maybe I could show you around London?"

"I'd love that, actually. Why don't we go out right now, and you can show me a proper evening in London?" This was an offer I liked. We walked past the bouncers and out to the Strand. I hailed a taxi and we headed for a pub I knew. If Martina wanted to see the real London, I could show it to her.

*****

I laughed, watching Martina's face. She had been reluctant to try British beer, preferring to stick with spirits, but I had told her to experience British life, and have a proper drink. After a tentative first sip, her face had lit up, and she took an enormous gulp. She put the glass down. The sight of this elegant, beautiful woman holding a pint glass was at once comical and peculiarly erotic. I leant towards her, a brushed the foam from the tip of her nose. She grinned, embarrassed.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Dan. This is amazing. There is just so much life in here. Its far more real than that party."

"I know. This is my idea of a night out."

"I could grow to like this. A funny, gorgeous man buying me drinks and looking after me." A thrill passed through my body. She was attracted to me. I couldn't believe my senses.

We spent about two hours in the pub, and left at closing time. I offered to walk Martina to her hotel, which wasn't too far, and she accepted. As we walked outside, Martina half fell towards me, and I reached out to support her. She regained her balance, and looked at me, laughing.

"It is strong stuff, this bitter." I said, laughing with her.

"Hey! I'm not a drunk. It is my knee injury, remember. Okay, and maybe I am a bit drunk. Could you call me a taxi, do you think?"

"Okay. Do you want me to come with you? Make sure you manage alright. If you fall in public, you know what the press will say..."

"Thank you. It is such a pleasure to be looked after." Again, that thrill ran up my spine. If I had my way, being looked after wouldn't be Martina's only pleasure tonight.

We arrived at the hotel a few minutes later. Martina managed to walk up to her room without assistance, which was a disappointment to me. We stood outside her door, the clichéd moment at the end of any date. The moment when the woman decides.

"I'd like to thank you for looking after me this evening. I had a lot of fun."

"Think nothing of it. It was my pleasure." I was disappointed, but these things happen. I hadn't honestly expected anything more.

"No, you don't understand. Perhaps it is my English. I am not saying thank you. I am saying I would like to thank you properly. Why don't you come in, and I can give you a thank you." I suppose I was an idiot for not understanding the first time, but in a way, making her spell out her desire was even more arousing.

I followed her through the door, into the most sumptuous suite I have ever seen. Her hotel room was bigger than my flat. I only gave this a passing thought, however, as she moved towards me, and wrapped her arms around my neck. She gazed up at me, her chin pressing against my chest. I pulled her close to me, feeling the curves of her breasts against my body. The satin dress thinly covered her back, and I rubbed my hands along her spine. She purred with pleasure, gently pushing her body even closer to mine. My hands now moved lower, stroking her cheeks. For so long I had fantasised about this ass as it swayed on the court. It was as perfect to touch as it was to watch. I squeezed it, caressed it, exploring it eagerly. Martina moaned softly with pleasure, and then, to my surprise, stepped away. Standing in front of me, she bent to unbuckle her strappy dress shoes, before kicking them off. I stood dumbstruck, admiring the roundness of her breasts, visible now as she leant towards me. Her confidence, her provocative behaviour, and my distant familiarity with her body meant that I was aching with arousal. She stepped out of her shoes, and pulled me towards her, spinning me around and pushing me down until I sat on the bed in front of her.

"Now," she whispered, "I am ready to thank you." She knelt down, and again I stared at her breasts, openly, hungrily. She swiftly removed my shoes and socks, before running her hands up my legs, my stomach and my chest. The speed of this movement, the sudden sensation across my sexually charged body caused me to gasp. Martina, though, was in control. Deftly she removed my tie, and then she began to undo my buttons, pulling my shirt open as she did so. She kissed my chest as her hands began to explore. Suddenly, she pinched both of my nipples, hard, and I gasped at the unexpected sensation. She circled my pecs with her fingers, before returning again to my nipples, this time rubbing them gently, softly. She kissed one, her pointed tongue circling it, licking, and gently sucking. I arched my back, ran a hand through her dark hair. She shuffled, adjusting her position on the floor, as she ran her hands down to my waist and slowly, teasingly pulled it through its loops. As she did so, she moved her mouth to kiss my neck, to nibble my ear-lobe. I felt her tongue once again, in my ear, twirling as she blew gently. My flesh seemed to quake with the sensation. Goose-bumps appeared all over my skin. I fumbled with the zip on the back of her dress, pulling it down a little way, allowing my to squeeze her shoulders, to feel her naked skin for the first time.

Martina was running a finger inside my waistband, teasing me, making my already hard cock strain even harder against its restraining clothing. This finger had all my attention and I half-shouted in surprise when I felt Martina's other hand against the inside of my thigh, squeezing it rhythmically, each squeeze bringing it closer to my cock. I could feel the pre-cum forming a wet spot against my underwear, and I squirmed to bring her teasing fingers closer to me. Just as the back of her hand brushed my balls, she moved it back to my knee, and I groaned involuntarily. Martina looked at me, and I could see that my arousal was turning her on.

"You like this?"

"Oh, Martina, you are so... oh!"

"Mmmm... I love to hear you cry out. Maybe I will work a little harder to make you shout louder."

Her fingers left my knee. I felt both hands pushing into my stomach as she struggled to unzip my cousin's tight trousers. I lifted myself high enough that she could pull them to my ankles, and she again placed her fingers on my knee, teasing me. Her lips had found my nipples again, and her fingers were gently scratching my thigh as she moved them closer and closer to my cock. This time she did not stop, and teasing me no longer, she stroked my balls, moving her fingers to the base of my cock.

"Oh, Martina, that feels amazing," I said, sure now that this would turn her on. She smiled, and began to kiss her way down my chest as her fingers gripped my shaft with a firm gentleness.

"Don't stop. That is wonderful. You're driving me crazy." Her thumb rubbed over and around the head of my penis, and even through the cloth, the sensation was electrical. She kissed lower and lower, gently pulling the hairs below my navel with her teeth, before she suddenly took my head, boxers and all, into her mouth.

"Oh God!" I cried out. "Aa...ah...ah...oh! Martina!"

She took both of my hands and pulled me to my feet, my cock still being sucked expertly. She reached behind me and inside my boxers, rubbing my ass briefly before she pulled my boxers off. She knelt lower, and licked the inside of my thigh, moving swiftly and surely towards my balls, which felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each. The sensation of her hot, wet and pointed tongue running across my scrotum was incredible, but I was glad when she moved her attentions to my shaft. Turning her mouth sideways, she kissed and licked her way up my shaft until she began to lick my head. This tongue, this amazing tongue, was working its magic at last on my naked head. I cried out again, shouting anything I could think of, knowing that I could keep her aroused this way. I felt her hands against my thighs, then against my buttocks. She stopped licking my head momentarily to lick one of her fingers. Then she pulled my buttocks apart with one hand, whilst she inserted a finger deep into my ass with the other. As soon as she did this, she swallowed my cock right to the base, still moving her tongue along my shaft as she took me deep, deep into her throat.

I had been too aroused for too long to withstand this sensation. I looked down, and saw this famous, innocent face stretched around my member. I felt my knees go weak as I reached my orgasm. My ass tensed, I felt her finger still probing, stroking and rubbing deep within me as she continued to move her head rapidly over my swelling cock.

"Oh my God! Don't stop, baby! That is incredible! I... aaah!" I stopped speaking, and could only gasp, breathing fast and shallow as the final moments of this incredible blow job passed. I came forcefully, shooting my load deep into her throat. As she took her mouth away from my cock, a dribble of cum dripped onto her satin dress. It was then that I realised that she was still unsatisfied.

I picked her up and almost threw her onto the bed. I ran a hand inside her dress, following the split up her perfect thigh as I did so. My other hand snaked behind her, and I yanked the zip down, pulling the top of the dress down to her waist as I did so. Her breasts were bare, she had not been wearing a bra, and I lowered my face to her breast, kissing, licking, biting, whilst my free hand kneaded and squeezed her other breast. She writhed below me, forcing her breasts upwards, and she moaned with pleasure.

"Don't tease me. Be quick. I've been waiting so long. I need to come!" I wanted to tease her, to make her wait, but my desire was as strong as hers. I felt my cock stiffen again as I stroked the inside of her thigh, before running my fingers through her soft pubic hair. As I did so, I realised that she had not been wearing any underwear, and the thought aroused me even more. I slipped a finger between her lips, quickly finding her engorged clit, and I rubbed it gently. She let out a quavering, ecstatic squeal and began to buck her hips below me.

I realised that she was serious about needing to come. Continuing to rub her dripping pussy, I rolled onto my back, and with my spare hand pulled her by the ass until she knelt straddling me. I then slipped two fingers into her pussy, rubbing her clit with my other hand. Her hips bucked more violently, and I looked up at her. She was panting, red in the face and sweating slightly, but the look of ecstasy in her eyes and the knowledge that I was creating this arousal made her seem even more attractive than ever. Her panting became louder and more irregular, and her face more contorted with pleasure.

"Oh yes, Dan, yes! Faster, deeper! Ah! I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" She let out a squeal that was almost a scream and I felt her convulse around my fingers again and again. Her back was arched as I watched her come, shuddering with joy, above me.

As the violence of her orgasm passed, I took my fingers from her pussy, and she licked them through smiling lips as I continued to rub her pussy gently. She looked down at me through half-closed eyes.

"Wow. Daniel, you must be made of metal! All ready to go again." She gazed at my cock, now fully erect once again.

"Not normally," I said with a rueful grin. "But then, normally I'm not with a woman I've fantasised about for years. Normally, I'm not with someone as hot as you." It was the best compliment I could come up with. Not brilliant, but it seemed to do the trick.

"Well then, I think I'll take advantage of this rare occurrence."

We gasped as one as she lowered herself onto my shaft. I had no idea where she had gained this amazing skill in bed, but I was grateful for it. She tensed and relaxed her vaginal muscles expertly as she rode me, sending shooting sensations from the end of my cock throughout my body. She rubbed her breasts, swayed her body and spoke softly from above me.

"I want you to come inside me, Dan. I want you to fill me. This feels unbelievable." I lay there, almost still, knowing that I had no control, and not minding at all. Being dominated by this sexy, sexy woman, watching her turn herself on as she gave me the most incredible fuck of my life was almost too much. I moaned softly, but the sound was drowned out by Martina's voice, no longer restrained. With every thrust and squeeze, she shouted to me.

"Oh yes... yes... ah... ah... Dan... Dan... Oh God... Oh God... OH GOD... AAH!... Dan... YES!!!" As she came, shouting above me, pinching her nipples and shutting her eyes tightly, I felt the rapid contractions of her pussy walls squeeze the cum from my cock. I shuddered, and lifted my hips off the bed as I filled her deeply, for the second time that night.

As she lay down beside me, rubbing my chest, I wrapped an arm around her petite waist and shut my eyes. Her stay in London might prove to be an awful lot of fun.

******

Look out for chapter two in the New Year.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 17 years ago
a very good story

super story

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