She Said, He Said

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Pen pals meet in the hotel bar.
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(“She” was outlined by a friend, I tidied it up a little, then wrote the “He” to complete the story.)

SHE:

A light, kiss on the lips when we meet, a drink, a chat, some touching. I do so like to reach out and touch someone when I'm talking to them. You looked rather nervous when you walked through that door. I recognised you easily from your pictures, but the glasses had been replaced by the contact lens. So, I was going to have to wait to find out the technicalities of kissing a guy with specs. I worked hard at putting you at your ease. I didn’t take you long to find your confidence, your easy smile. You knew why we were here, knew why I was prepared to meet you like this. Unless you did something really gross, you were going to fuck me – and if your recent conversations where anything to go by, you were going to fuck my virgin ass. I could feel the heat in my face, a warm dampness between my thighs. God, this was really happening. You were here, sitting across the small table, eyes glinting with the reflected light of the ornamental candle between us.

I could not help an apprehensive shiver – the intimate knowledge that you had about me, the things that I had told you about myself - It made me feel so vulnerable, so bare, already naked before you. It was also intensely erotic.

We exchanged some meaningless, banal pleasantries, dancing lightly around the subject that had to be on both of our minds. We reached around the candle, hands touching arms. I stroked your bare skin, enjoying the contact and drank deeply. You insisted on a bottle of wine, over my protests, but you seemed strangely insistent. Once the wine had come we drank a toast, a silent one of meaningful looks and promise of things to come. You reached up to my shoulder, your touch was light and gentle, but soon became more confident, as if it was slowly sinking in… I was here. I was sitting across from you, letting you touch me. I found your gaze slightly uncomfortable, did you realise how much you stared? The intensity of your gaze… the caress of your hand. God you were making me hot. I loved the way you kissed my hands, each finger tip. For every intimate secret of mine, I knew some of yours. The things you thought about, the things that turned you on. Can I blame it on the drink? It would be a lie, of course, but this was night of dreams and fantasies, what would be the harm of one more small one?

As casually as possible, I let one hand drop into my lap. Your eyes followed the movement… did you guess what I was going to do. You couldn’t see, although you did lean forward a little, but the edge of the table, and my skirt hid me from you. I had chosen a quiet corner, my body shielded me from the bar, the rest of the room. My fingers trembled as I reached under the hem of the short skirt, the smooth skin of my thighs burned as I sought the damp crotch of my g string. You gazed steadily, deep into my soul, as I slipped past the flimsy barrier, easing two fingers into my liquid heat. God, I was wet, dripping with the juices your mere presence had set free. My thumb stroked the unaccustomed smoothness of my mons – I couldn’t wait to see your face when you discovered that I had gone smooth, for you, for this night. Oh god, it felt good. You saw something in my face, the way your eyes widened, mouth opening - and I had to stifle the moan that leapt to the tip of my tongue. I could see the desire in your eyes, how you forced your self to remain still… frozen in fear of the mirage before you vanishing in puff of smoke. My body shuddered when I withdrew my fingers, leaving a wet smear on my thigh. Slowly, I raised my hand, fingers extended, up over the table and paused, our eyes locked on them, gleaming with my moisture in the subtle light.

You caught my write in your hand, no tentative touch this time, and pulled it to you waiting mouth. I loved the way you closed your eyes, and inhaling the scent of me, like you were nosing a fine wine. That act used to embarrass me so much… now it made my cunt clench in anticipation. You so clearly enjoyed the experience, the aroma of me… how could it not be a turn on. When you first suggested that as something you wished somebody would do for you, my first reactions was that I was talking to one sick puppy after all. But then I could not get the idea of my head… see what you do to me? Then your mouth opened, your tongue flickered over my honeyed fingers, tasting me. Then your mouth dipped forward, engulfing, sucking them into you. You closed your eyes, savouring me, tongue sliding between my fingers, seeking every fragrant smear.

You pulled my fingers back, released them and looked at me once more, you eyes seeming to struggle as they shifted focus.

“Again… do that again..” you whispered.

This time I did moan as I fingered my dripping pussy, I can hardly remember being so horny – we had barely touched each other, and a few deep strokes and hard rub and I would be coming – noisily, in the middle of the bar. With a conscious effort, I extracted my fingers and raised them to the table once more, but this time you pressed my fingers to my own mouth – I sucked them clean with as much enthusiasm as you had shown, and your expression had me squirming in the chair. The blatant crudity, raw sexuality of what we doing had my heart racing, my blood pounding in my ears… sitting in a public place, cool air on my hot pussy while you used my own pussy flavoured fingers to fuck my mouth.
Now you slip your hand under the table, greedy for me, your hand sliding up my stocking clad thigh, higher, up until… aaah. I watched you grin at the expression on my face, and didn’t give a damn. Then it was my turn to grin, a little breathlessly, as stopped suddenly and with a wicked grin you discovered my little surprise.

You groaned sweetly, fingers exploring my velvet smooth mound. You teased me, the lightest touch on my clitoris, the brush of your knuckles along my parted lips…. That was the final straw. This is not only getting too hot to handle in the bar, I've neglected to tell you I'm a quick fuck. When I want it, I just need it hard and fast and forget about the niceties. I whisper as much to you, adjusted my wet underwear and you settled the drinks bill. Just as I started rise, you asked with a formally serious expression if you should bring the wine bottle. It took a moment to sink in… and then blushed furiously. Why on earth had I told you about that! Being fucked to an explosive orgasm by a wine bottle was not something I shared easily. I cursed you under my breath, and then had to laugh at your injured, innocent expression. You bastard! I took your hand and dragged you, out of the bar.

I led you towards the elevators intending to head straight for my room, but we pass a cleaners storage room on the way – and being in such a state, I just could not resist the opportunity it offered. I looked around quickly, then pushed you inside. You made no protest, and in moments we were embracing, your hands on my bare ass under my skirt, your hardness squashed between us.
I resisted the urge to go straight to it - I wanted kissing. I wanted it like you meant it, like you've thought of nothing else but exploring my mouth. The hard length of you pressed insistently against me… forget what I said about needing your cock jammed in my cunt, or your mouth on mine, I needed to taste of you there and then. I slid down your body and unzipped you, struggled with your belt a moment, then tugged your trousers and underwear down. Your cock sprang out, a ridged curve of pleasingly erect manhood. Not licking, no teasing – I jammed as much of you into my mouth as I could handle, hardly noticing the knot your fingers made in my hair, pulling me onto you. I had wanted your dick in mouth for so long… it didn’t seem real, feeling you throbbing against the back of my throat, dreamlike.

I could taste your pre cum, and was suddenly visualising you grunting and thrusting, spurting down my throat. I squeezed the base of your cock hard, and pulled back. I didn't want to waste your cum in my mouth, I had needed that taste of you, the feel your cock squeezed down my throat. But overwhelmingly, I wanted you deep in my cunt. I may have moaned my frustration… because you seemed to sense my dilemma, and pulled me to my feet. You spun me around, facing the wall and pressed me forward making me stoop. I do so love a man in control. You quickly brushed my skirt up, exposing my rear, your hands warm and firm on the roundness of my arse. There was a hunger, and urgency about you that matched my own perfectly. You pulled the narrow strip of my g-string aside as I reached out and braced my hands on the shelving. At last, you stuck your fingers up my cunt, (God I love that word. It does if for me like no other.) Two fingers, deep in me, pressing hard, your palm almost lifting me off the ground.
You're in no hurry, but I beg you just to fuck me, and you oblige indulgently. I moaned when you pulled your fingers from my clinging depths – partly at loss, partly in anticipation.

The hot touch of your wet tip made me gasp, and then you were pushing into me, meeting the slightest of resistance, as my swollen lips folded in, protecting the portal to heaven. You pulled out of me a little and then give it to me hard, and I take it up to the hilt. Aagghhh... In a few fast, deep strokes, I was trying to stifle the cries of a cunt clenching orgasm as you hunched over me, hilt deep and bathed my cervix with spurts of semen… I love a man who can let go and just give it to me as fast as I need it. It's such a compliment. The feel of him rutting in me, and his cum dripping out of me......

What happened next? What did you do to me when we get up to the hotel room?

HE:

Very conscious of my wet dick, still rather full of itself inside my damp underwear, I followed you toward the lifts. I was feeling rather dazed, probably still recovering from the explosive intensity of our fast fuck in the storage room. I had watch you, mesmerised with my wet dick still poking out as you slipped that dammed g string off, smoothed down your skirt and raised a quizzical eyebrow at my exposed condition.

“You going to put that away or do you plan to walk through the hotel like that?”

I hastily stuffed myself away, and you grinned at my all too evident discomfort. Then you touched yourself, under your skirt and then raised a wet finger to you mouth.

“Not that I can talk. Bare arsed and leaking cum…” You popped the finger into your mouth, sucked for a moment, then looked me in the eye.

“Yum,” you smiled wickedly. “You really are a sucker for that!” you added happily.

The powerful urge to pull my sticky cock out and jam it down your throat must have shown in my eyes. Your raised hand halted me, and your voice was laced with wry humour and promise.

“Down boy. I’d like to make it back to the room.”

I followed you, quite docile, to the lifts. I slipped a hand around your waist, not wanting to let you go – just in case you vanished. You gave me an amused look, but seemed content to allow me the contact. Once the lift doors closed you let me kiss you, pressing you back against the wall, my hand slipping between your thighs and seeking your bare sex. You gripped my wrist quite firmly, but did not actually stop me. I ran a fingertip along the slippery groove – until the lift halted and the doors opened. You snatched my hand away with alacrity. A middle aged couple and two kids. Respectable, if a touch dishevelled we rode in silence. You glared wordlessly as I casually inhaled your scent and tasted you on my fingertip. Our floor, and we hurried out, and then down the dark corridor. You slapped my hand each time I reached towards your bottom.

“What is it with you!” you hissed, half in anger, half in laughter.

“I just can’t get enough of you” I whispered back seriously. You seem mollified by that and let me cup a bare buttock the final length of the corridor. Did I see your hand shake when you used your card to open the door? I followed you in and carefully closed the door closed behind us.
You stood in the centre of the room, and paused, as if working out what to do next. I moved towards you, intending to carry on from were we had left off. But you turned away and spoke over your shoulder,

“Hang on… I won’t be a moment”, and I watched you disappear into the bathroom.

I studied the door for a moment… considered the situation carefully, then - what the hell. You hadn’t locked it, and when I pushed the door open I found you perched on the loo as expected. You gave me a particularly dirty look and muttered something about a ‘sick puppy, and having a piss in peace’. God you looked sexy, sitting there in your stockings, showing some tempting thigh, but the hem of your skirt and one hand hid you from my gaze.

“Show me.” Part plea, part command.

You looked exasperated, and for a moment I thought you would refuse. Then, with a grimace you relented, and flashed me a glimpse of that smooth lipped slit and the silvery stream. Despite your feigned displeasure you couldn’t seem to help grinning at my reaction.

“Do you mind… can’t you wait until I’ve finished?”

“You just carry on, don’t mind me.” I muttered.

I stepped up to you, unzipped myself and pulled my cock out, semi hard after its recent immersion in the hot depths of your body. Your mouth opened - in surprise? Or was it anticipation? You really must tell me one of these days. There was minimal resistance as I placed one hand firmly on the back of your head and pressed you forward to meet me, and I filled the warm, wet O of your mouth, sliding deep, until your nose rubbed against my belt buckle. An initial resistance and then you were sucking on me, still damp from your pussy, with a hungry relish. It did not take your educated mouth long to bring me to full and throbbing life. You finished your piss, and sat there, as with a hand either side of your head, fingers combed through your hair I fucked your open mouth. God – I just couldn’t get enough of you… your legs spread either side of me, your mouth sliding back and forth on the glistening column of my flesh. Your eyes were rolled up, looking up at me, full of promise and debauchery. Sorry, I got a little carried away just then, and pressed even deeper down your throat – causing you to gag. We jerked apart and you grabbed at my bobbing length.

“Steady boy”, you laughed up at me, your hand squeezing me meaningfully. “Maybe we should adjourn to somewhere more sensible?”

A little reluctantly I stepped back, and you released me. You dried yourself, and stood, smoothing down your skirt. You ran your fingers through the mess I had made of your hair and grimaced again. You saw something in my gaze, and paused.

“What?”

“Take your bra off…please? But leave your top on.” I added hastily.

“You are a sick puppy!” but you smiled and then quickly did my bidding in that wonderful, mind baffling way, without taking your top off. I waved you through to the bedroom ahead of me.

You stood in the centre of the room, your back to me, facing the bed as I walked up behind you, slipping my hand around your waist, and under your top. Your skin was warm and smooth, and I felt you tremble as my hands moved up to cup your breasts.… a lovely BSH by the way… oh – British Standard Handful. I fought down the sudden urge to bend you forward, have you kneel on the bed….
I pressed my hardness against the swell of your behind, and leaned over you, my lips brushing you shoulders and neck. I breathed into your ear, kissed the lob and then used my tongue to lick the outer surface, pulling back to move back to your neck and shoulders, as you shivered. I squeezed your breasts firmly and rubbed myself against your buttocks… God, I keep repeating it, but I just couldn’t get enough of you. Your whole body shook and you made a funny kind of noise, which I think conveyed at least a small amount of pleasure. I reluctantly released one warm orb of breast and moved my hand to your waist, over your stomach and enjoying the way you quivered. Then under the hem of your skirt. I placed my palm over the smooth hot mound of your sex, forefinger sliding easily into the groove. I licked your ear again, cupping your breast and circling the nipple, pressing my erection urgently against you once again. I forced a finger, then two, deep into your heat and wetness, feeling more of your weight and your knees parted and you pressed down on me. Your hands covered mine, pressing me and your neck stretched as you twisted, your mouth seeking mine.

I shook myself mentally, and released you. You caught my withdrawing hand, and raised the slippery finger to you mouth, even as I eased you round to face me. Your swallowed my finger to its base, your tongue tickled as you licked its length clean of your honey. You clearly relished the effect that had upon me – and so obviously enjoyed sating that weakness of mine. Satisfied you let me slip free and we stood motionless a moment, your face tilted up, hooded eyes locked on mine. Your gaze was warm and unguarded; I sensed a trust in you...

Reassured, I gently took your face in my hands. You closed your eyes then…and your moist lips parted in anticipation. I tilted my head forward and then kissed you. My mouth covering yours. My tongue hovered, teasing your parted lips, circling the heated opening. The hot silver of yours pressed back, teasing, inviting… and I followed eagerly. As we kissed hungrily, I could feel your hands on my waist, working around my protruding erection, undoing my belt. Once undone you pushed them down, along with my boxers, until gravity took over and they dropped around my ankles. Your skirt went the same way moments later. Without breaking the kiss you proceeded to unbutton my shirt and with a bit of rough pulling and tugging divested me of it. Despite my recent, mind blowing climax, I could feel the urgency in me once more. Your top quickly joined the rest of our clothes, and the warm pressure of your breasts rubbed against my bare chest. My body hard against yours, I stepped forward, pressing you back, step by step, towards the waiting bed.
Then the edge of the bed caught the back of your legs and you sat abruptly, breaking the mouth to mouth. I stooped and slipped a hand under each of your thighs, then lifted, causing you to go over onto your back. Wide eyed you grinned as I raised your legs up past the vertical, exposing your ass and your smooth, swollen lipped, wet look, cunt. I released your legs and you smiled at me knowingly, and let them rest upon my shoulders, as I reached under your behind and lifted you even further towards me.

Your grin did falter slightly as I gazed down on your bare, recently fucked and newly shaved pussy, prolonging the pleasure. Your stockings only seemed to focus my gaze, framing the picture of your sex to perfection. Giving myself a mental shake, and probably to your relief, I finally tore my eyes away. I knelt, bringing my face down to you, drinking in the sight of you, inhaling the hot aroma of female sex and fucking…

“God your are beautiful…. It was kind of you to shave,” I added.

“Hm… figured you had a thing for adolescent schoolgirls remember?”

“True… and it does make you irresistible..”

I dipped my head and licked the length of your smooth sex, feeling your entire body shudder. I peered awkwardly up at you as I felt your body shift as you raised yourself onto your elbows, to watch me. Awkward…

“Hang on” I muttered and then crawling onto the bed, I shoved you bodily up its length towards the headboard. The double row of fat hotel pillows formed a convenient back rest, that served to prop you up, allowing you to look down at the action. You read my mind again, and hooked your arms under the back of your knees, holding yourself open and so beautifully and obscenely vulnerable to me. Unable to resist the lure of you, I rubbed my face in you sex, in your cunt. I licked your thighs, from your stocking tops, to those delightful, complex curves where they joined your body. I licked and kissed the swell of your mound, the buttery labia and down to the shadowed dimple of your anus… I licked your cunt, forcing my tongue between the folds, lashing the length of your groove, flicking your clitoris and trying to see how far I could reach inside your hot depths. I ate and I drank of you. Dimly, I heard you moaning and could feel your body twist and writhe to the tune my mouth was playing upon you. I was lost in you, in your sex, in your heat and heady aroma. I was drowning in you.

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