Out of Town Out of Mind

The woman at the far end of the bar caught Roxy's eye. Roxy had been tending bar in this hotel for a long time, and she knew what this woman's attire and actions meant. She first noticed the dress the woman was wearing: not just any dress, but the kind of sexy dress that a woman wears when she wants attention from a stranger. The kind that a single woman wears almost any time she goes out, or a married woman wears when she's feeling lonely, or neglected, or just needs to be reassured that someone still finds her to be very desirable.

The woman nervously fidgeting at Roxy's bar was in the latter category. She looked to be at about that awkward age when women realize they aren't young little things anymore, but they aren't ready to accept being considered old yet, either. The only hints to her true age were the tiny lines on her face when she smiled or laughed, and the color of her hair. She was beautiful, but hair wasn't naturally that deep of a black without a few telltale lighter strands, even on a younger woman. Obviously a dye job, or maybe even a wig. She was trying to hide something.

Roxy wished she could make the woman understand how beautiful she was on her own, and that she didn't have to try so hard, but she had spent too many nights behind this bar, and Roxy knew better. This woman was here for a very specific reason, and it wasn't any of Roxy's business. The woman would have no trouble getting what she was here after, and Roxy knew it.

Tall, fit, brunette, proportional breast size; firm butt; and sexy, toned thighs; the kind of body that should never want for companionship. Showing as much skin as she was: the cleavage; the open back of her dress; the knee length dress that was slit up the side, was obviously far outside of her normal comfort zone.

She seemed nervous, yet excited, about the prospect of men looking at her and the thoughts she hoped they must be having. Roxy knew what this woman was after, and she wasn't going to interfere-or help-beyond keeping an eye on her drinks for her to make sure nothing got tampered with, and steering her clear of any known creeps.

The mysterious dark haired beauty slowly stirred the drink in front of her with her slender right hand, absently staring at the cherry swirling around in it while presumably listening to the thoughts that were almost surely echoing inside her mind. The way the thumb on her left hand slowly twirled the ring on it hinted as to what those thoughts likely were.

"Does he still love me? Do I still love him? Is that enough? God, how long has it been since I really felt sexy, or even beautiful? Does he still think I'm beautiful? Does anyone? When was the last time I caught a man sneaking a glance in my direction? Do I not notice it, or am I no longer deserving of stolen glances? If I found myself single again, would anyone else want me? Would I have a chance at love again? Would I have a chance at a night of anonymous, passionate sex with a stranger tonight? If I do, what does that mean? What happens tomorrow?"

Keith had noticed her, too, and although she was too far away to make out much detail, he could tell she was a beauty of the type he had always been attracted to. His mind wandered to thoughts similar to hers, and it was those last questions that he was most interested in. He was bored and lonely himself, which is what brought him into this place to begin with. He was generally not a fan of bars, especially in cities he was not familiar with, and this place fit that bill. "Home" for the next four nights was a hotel room on the fifth floor, and the only view out was overlooking a poorly maintained grassy field that ended where the railroad tracks began. Not even anything outside the room to entertain himself with, so he wound up in this hotel bar, just looking to kill a little time before turning in for the night.

She changed his priorities with just a single glance. The instant he saw her, his heart skipped a beat! Keith hadn't felt that since the first time he saw the woman who would become his wife, and that was many years ago. They still loved each other, but the days of consciously showing each other that love had sadly long passed. Now, it was apparently just assumed that the feelings were still there; that neither of them was going to go anywhere; that they were, indeed, together "until death do us part". Ironic that the statement they made during their wedding vows, which seemed to be so far into the future and such a terrifying yet exciting thought at the time, years later began to seem perhaps too ambitious. Not as terrifying, and maybe even an end to the heartbreak that had replaced a once passionate love.

It was neither of their faults, they both had their own share of blame to carry. They got complacent taking care of the drudgery of daily life. A baby came, then another, then school, athletics, birthday parties, graduations, college...and in what seemed like an instant, they were alone again, together. Their lives had become so centralized around giving their children the happiest, safest, most secure and fulfilling childhood they could in order to spring them into adult life with every advantage they could give them, that it had replaced the romance of two people in love and lust for each other. Now, those children were adults, and they had begun building lives of their own. Keith and his wife were both very proud of that, and their children, and happy for their journeys. But, with the first looks around their newly empty nest, they made a startling and painful discovery: somewhere, they had misplaced the spark that lit the flame that began this shared life, and without it, only sadness and loneliness remained.

They tried to rekindle it, but being unable to financially afford outside assistance, and unable to uncover the core issues ourselves, they unknowingly succumbed to the tedium and heartbreak of just ticking down the days as roommates and business partners; passively waiting until their lives were once again consumed by something other than themselves: grandkids. That was likely years off into the future, however, which left her and Keith both trying to fill the holes in their souls with whatever they could find.

She occupied herself by finally sorting two childhood's worth of photos, newspaper clippings, and various awards into albums and displays for the girls. She seemed content enough doing this, but it was difficult for Keith to tell what was going on in her mind. She never really complained, though, so if she was feeling as lost and hopeless as he was, she was much better at hiding it.

Keith was having a much more difficult time of it. He loved his daughters, there was never any doubt about that. Any parent out there knows, the second you become a parent, your view of the world changes, and every priority you ever had gets rearranged to accommodate this new life that you are now responsible for. But, he never stopped wanting to be a husband, a lover, or an individual. It's something that he struggled with since the birth of his firstborn, but now that there was no longer the distraction of full-time parenting, he found it impossible to relegate this want to anywhere but the front of his mind. He was depressed, angry, and lonely, and didn't see that changing anytime soon without his wife joining him on that quest.

Marriage can oftentimes be a double-edged sword. No one really tells you that going in. Finding yourself drawn so strongly to just one person; joining every aspect of your lives together; building on that foundation to create an entirely new life; having everything in your life being somehow anchored to and centered around one particular human being, can be very reassuring. Until one day that anchor starts to come loose, usually after years of stagnant lovemaking, uneventful anniversaries and birthdays, and passion free Valentine's Days. Then, you find yourself still accompanied by that same person whom you once were drawn so strongly to, but instead of being each other's anchors, you find you are simply two lonely souls, adrift in the same life boat. You may even find that you have run out of things to talk about as you rock amongst the waves, searching the empty horizon for some sign, any sign, of rescue.

Then one day, unexpectedly, you find yourself in a hotel bar, and someone catches your eye, and suddenly you feel that spark again; those butterflies; that feeling of...of...of your soul coming back to life! It's exciting! It's confusing! It's dangerous.

It was dangerous, this position Keith found himself in. He had never wanted to do anything like this before, not even back in his single days. He just never had the confidence to approach a stranger in a bar, buy her a drink, and strike up a conversation; all with the goal in mind of a casual sexual encounter instead of a long-term relationship. Never mind the fact that he would harbor guilt forever about how he made her feel about the encounter after all was said and done. He would worry that he may have made her feel used, cheap, slutty, or maybe just uncomfortable and ashamed. No, this just wasn't his style.

And yet, at this moment, he wanted nothing more!

He wanted to confidently walk up to this gorgeous woman, this goddess, this...this...MILF! Yes, that's what she was! Simply a sexy, older (which by now, "older" meant someone his age) woman whom he wanted nothing more than a night of sexual passion with! He wanted to chat her up a little, buy her a drink, look into her eyes, and then take her up to his room where they would spend the rest of the night discovering each other's bodies and bringing each other to forgotten heights of physical pleasure, over and over again, until they parted ways in the morning exhausted, satisfied, and replenished. Yes, he wanted this. He could do this.

He ordered a drink from his stool at the far end of the bar, a little something to calm his nerves down. As he sipped it, he tried to watch her without her realizing. A glance in her direction while turning on his stool; watching her reflection in the mirror behind the bar; pretending that he was looking past her toward the outside door for someone. Much as he wanted to, he dared not look directly at her face, thinking that doing so meant risking her catching him, and then it would all be over before it had a chance to begin. It must have worked, because if she ever caught him or was bothered by his scouting activities, she never let on.

Finally, his liquid courage kicked in and he began to slowly make his way to the only empty stool next to her, which was on her right. Conveniently for him, that's the side he was approaching, so he had the element of surprise in his favor and could gauge her interest in him by her initial reaction.

Five more steps to go; four more steps; it's getting close now. Was his breath okay? How about his hair? Was his shirt tucked in funny? Oh, god, this is why he never did this before! Okay, three more...

As he looked up, trying to steel himself and appear more sure of himself than he felt, the younger man heading toward Keith slipped in and took his seat next to this beauty. Keith's seat. He saw her first; she was going to his room. And this punk just TOOK it! Keith had no choice but to continue past, pretending that he was intending to leave out the front door. What could he do? This other guy was at least ten, maybe fifteen years younger than him, and he appeared to be in really good shape, whereas Keith looked more like someone who used to be in pretty good shape.

As Keith continued out the main door, and the young man introduced himself to the cougar on the stool, Roxy learned that her initial assumptions appeared to be true. When the lonely woman turned to the young stud upon hearing his voice, her eyes briefly lit up and a sexy smile quickly spread on her beautiful face, and she tucked her left hand under her stocking clad thigh to obscure the wedding ring still wrapped around it. Well, good for her, Roxy thought.

Keith stuck the plastic card into the slot on the door, watched the light turn green, turned the knob and stepped in. Cold as hell! Why did it seem so impossible to get a hotel room to stay at a decent temperature? He turned up the thermostat on the little wall unit, and opened up the curtains and blinds. Nothing out there. Not a damn thing. Dark as his heart lately. He didn't bother to close them, since no one was likely to be out there to see him walking around his room tonight, and anyone who did would quickly turn away if they saw this old body naked anyway.

He flipped open his laptop and the screen came to life, though it would be a couple minutes before everything fired up and he would be able to connect to the unreliable hotel Wi-Fi signal in a vain attempt to try to drown some pain via some silly website or social media. In the meantime, he went into the bathroom to relieve himself and wash up a little before bed. He planned on watching videos until his eyes ached, then crashing hard, TV on for background noise. Another habit from his single days, just leaving the TV on so there was something else moving and making noise besides him. He found a decent movie on that he had already seen, so he left that on and returned to the internet. Same old stuff on social media: everyone's mad about everyone else's opinion, and no one is changing their minds. And cat memes.

He jolted back to reality when he heard a thunk against the hallway wall, followed by a hushed feminine giggle, and her whispered pleas for assistance. A glance out the peephole in the door confirmed what the sounds meant, but with an additional knife twisted in his back: it was the woman from the hotel bar, with the barstool thief. Apparently, he had bought her more than just the one drink, and now he was going to do to her what Keith wanted to. Just Keith's luck that the stool thief would be staying on the same floor as him. Could this get any worse?

*swipe click. The door to the room next to his opened, then closed, and the lock was fastened. Yes, it could get worse. Their room was right next to Keith's, meaning that in all likelihood, he would be overhearing their actions for the immediate future. Awesome.

He decided that it would be best if he just slept through all of this and concentrated on the next day's work concerns. He left the TV turned on to a movie to hopefully help drown out some of the noise that he was sure would be making its way through from the vixen's room, either through the always thin hotel walls, or more likely, the adjoining doors on their common wall. He lamented the fact that, while it seemed that the old adjoining hotel room doorways are not as common as they used to be, he had somehow managed to obtain one of the few remaining, and it would now serve to telegraph sounds of passion to taunt him and remind him of what a failure he was at the game of seduction.

Keith could never seem to figure out hotel TV timers, so he just left it at a reasonable volume level and closed his eyes. He awoke a few hours later to the sounds of the softcore porn movie now playing on that movie channel and sleepily turned his head to catch the scenery. The sounds did not match the picture, and it only took him a second to realize that the moans and screams were not those of a porn starlet faking real sexual passion, but those of a real woman getting her brains screwed out in the room next door.

Whatever was happening in that room, they both seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves! She let out a deep, sexy, lusty moan with every exhaled breath. Occasionally a deeper grunt harmonized along with her, and his mind began to create a visual of what specifically was happening and to whom.

The squeaking of the bed picked up in tempo, as did the lustful sounds. Slowly, they turned to actual words, albeit muffled by the physical barrier between the two rooms: "Ungh...yes...harder...deeper...ohhh...so good...touch my clit...cum for me baby!" She was obviously changing her voice to sound more dirty and sexy, and he had always been turned on by women who vocalized during sex. As he listened more closely, his neglected cock began to betray his bruised ego and began to rise up, apparently with the intention of joining the action next door. He put his ear to the wall, but things were still a little muffled. What would he do, what would he risk, to hear better or maybe even see what was happening? Then it struck him: should he? Did he dare? What if he got caught? What were the chances of that, really?

He slowly and carefully turned the handle of his side of the adjoining door until he felt the latch give way, and painstakingly slowly swung the door open. Now, there was only their side of the door between them, and the gap around that door made it much easier to hear. And hear, he did!

It sounded to him like she must have been on her back on the bed, and ST (by now Keith had given the Stool Thief a nickname) was likely standing next to it fucking her sexy little brains out! He could now hear every grunt, groan, moan, and whisper, and every single thrust of ST's cock into her wet, horny pussy!

Keith couldn't help it. It had been a long time since his sex life with his wife had any real measure of passion, and it was never like what he was hearing from the other side of the door. He slipped off his underwear and grabbed hold of his own throbbing cock and began to stroke himself in time to the sounds of the bed creaking in time to ST's thrusts. He wished he had a bottle of lube nearby, but he didn't feel like digging through his bags, and besides, the way things were going he (and she) were going to cum very quickly anyway.

Which gave him a new goal: if he wasn't going to be the one giving this sexy slut the cock she was so thoroughly enjoying, he could at least eavesdrop on them and imagine he was, and try to time his cumming with theirs. Living vicariously was better than not living at all.

Which better happen soon, because he was already pretty close. As if on cue, ST started moaning deeper and longer, followed by "I'm going to cum. Oh gawd that pussy is so good, you're going to make me blow my balls out!" and the breathy reply "Cum in me baby! Fuck this married slut's pussy! Shoot your hot cum deep in this married vagina! Fill me up like only my husband is supposed to! Make this pussy yours!"

For a split second Keith wondered just what had finally happened in her marriage that brought her to this place and into this room to do what she was doing, but that thought was quickly relegated to the back of his mind, which was now more occupied with his urgently approaching orgasm.

"Fuck me! Fuck me! I'm gonna cum, cum with me! I wanna feel you spurt that hot seed deep inside this married pussy!" She was really into the forbidden aspect of what was happening; he had definitely missed out on a spectacular opportunity.

Keith closed his eyes and tried to imagine her laid out in front of him, based on his memory of her from the bar. It was easy to do, since she looked similar to his wife, except for her hair color and the fact that his wife was hundreds of miles away at a business conference of her own. He simply pictured his wife's body with dark hair, and he was now the one riding this sexy beast.

The moans increased. "Here it cums! I'm gonna shoot it in you!" "Yes! Yes, baby, shoot your cum in me!" UNNNGGGHHHHHHH!

Keith also groaned out a little as his own cum load shot out all over the inside of the adjoining room's door. Shit! He hoped they didn't hear him! There would be no way to explain this!

He left it there, and silently closed his side of the door. He figured he would have plenty of time to clean it up over the next few days while there was no one in the room next door to catch him.

Keith went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up, feeling much less stressed and more able to sleep. As he passed the adjoining door, however, he could hear quiet shuffling noises and whispers on the other side. "Oh my gosh, someone must have been listening?" "It looks like he liked what he heard, there's cum on the door!" "Did you see who is in that room?" "No. But it's kind of hot to think about someone jerking off to the sounds of you fucking me, baby. Should we give him more fantasy fodder? How long until you can get it back up?" "Give me about 10 minutes, less if you have a talented mouth." "Oh, how I miss the days when my husband was like that!"