Strangers In The Night

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Two strangers meeting in an airport.
1.9k words
4.28
24.9k
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I was flying from down south to the national capital on a work assignment by an evening flight. It was a cold winter evening, not so cold in my home city, but raining, as it so often does in that city. The forecast was for very cold weather in the national capital, with rain. Altogether a depressing prospect, and to make things worse, the flight was late. I sat nursing a drink in the lounge so thoughtfully provided by my bank for its card holders. Near where I sat, a lady dressed in a black pant suit was talking in a low voice into her cell phone. She seemed to be somewhat agitated, and after sometime, with an air of failed finality, she got off her phone, beckoned the waiter and ordered a drink, which she gulped down immediately. She looked around for the waiter, who had vanished into the innards of the room. Our eyes met. I smiled sympathetically and said:

"Just when you want a waiter, he seems to vanish into thin air."

"Most irritating, and I do so desperately need a drink."

"May I help you to get a drink?" – I asked.

"Please. But don't get the impression that I'm in the habit of knocking down alcoholic drinks out of fear of flying. It's just that I'm facing a predicament created by someone else."

"Tell me about it after I get you that drink. I've found that it helps to release tension when you share your problem with someone else."

I got up, unearthed the waiter taking what was no doubt a well deserved break in a corner where there were no customers to disturb him, ordered two drinks and got back to my chair. The lady motioned me to sit at her table. The drinks came; she took a sip and then proceeded to unburden her soul.

"This weakling cousin of mine, just because his wife doesn't like me, because she thinks I'll steal that twerp away from her, was on the phone to tell me that it would be inconvenient for me to stay with him, and this at the last moment when I'm already in the airport, and knowing fully well that I hate staying on my own in a hotel."

"May I suggest that you stay in the hotel where I'm booked? It's a small boutique hotel, cozy and comfortable, far away from the madding crowd, though very centrally located."

The flight was eventually announced. I charmed a flight attendant into letting us sit together. We made small talk and partook of the light dinner provided by the airline. We landed at our destination, collected our baggage and found a cab to take us to the hotel.

While I was checking in, she stood near me, and the clerk asked me if we were together. I was going to say 'no' but before I could open my mouth, she said 'yes', and that, I can tell you disconcerted me no end. In the elevator taking us to our room, she kept demurely quiet in front of the bellboy. Once alone inside the room, she raised her hands as if to silence me and said:

"Please don't mind the imposition. I just can't stay alone in a hotel room. You seem a decent sort, and I'd rather stay with you than stay alone. Please understand my situation. It's just for one night and I won't be any trouble, I promise you. I'll even pay for the room."

I took stock of the situation. Here I was, just turning 30, a happy bachelor with no complications in life, and this woman, about 15 years my senior, was so desperate to occupy a hotel room with me rather than stay alone. She was tall and slim, with a sharp aquiline face, and from what I could make out, had a decent enough figure under that pant suit. Another problem: the room had a double bed, very suitable for an amorous couple, but certainly not meant for two strangers who had just met. We didn't even know each others name. It was a surrealistic experience, I can tell you.

Well, it was pretty late, and the only thing to do was to order a couple of drinks and some food from room service. Those rituals finished, we prepared for bed. I asked her whether she was sure she wanted to share the room with me or whether I should try for another room. The answer was an emphatic no. She went into the bathroom to change. I heard the shower running, and then she came out, wearing a bathrobe over whatever she was wearing underneath.

She suggested that I do likewise, and here we were, two strangers in the night, clad in bathrobes and little else, facing each other in the intimacy of a hotel room. She put out the lights on her side of the bed and signaled me to put out the lights on my side of the bed. In the darkness of the night, we lay side by side, but decently far enough, not touching.

I murmured: "I say, aren't you taking a frightful risk?"

She replied: "I'm experienced enough to know that a decent young man like you won't even touch me without my consent, and I know nothing will happen between us without my permission."

"You have that assurance" – I replied.

But it was difficult to go to sleep. The scent she wore kept on troubling me. It was an exotic perfume, inviting enough arouse even a monk sworn to celibacy. I turned and tossed, carefully avoiding my bed mate. After some time, she couldn't take my shifting, tossing and turning any longer. She put her hand on me and told me to relax. She started to massage my temple, and in the process, our bodies touched. My cock sprang to attention and its hardness bored into her body. She felt the hardness and said:

"My, aren't you all tensed up? Let me help you to release your stress."

Saying this, she climbed on to me and gave me a warm, passionate kiss, lip to lip, her tongue probing my mouth. She got off and took off my pajamas, at the same time taking off her nightgown. Now were naked as two jaybirds, on a double bed eminently suitable for fun and games, two strangers in the night.

She said: "Just relax and do as I tell you. Get your face between my thighs and kiss me there."

I did as I was bid. I started by kissing the insides of her thighs, at which she started trembling. Soon I was kissing her pussy, my lips and tongue exploring her cavern of love, I licked and sucked the outer labia, and then my tongue was inside her, swirling round and round her vagina and lashing her pert little clit, sucking the cunt hole to take the clit into my mouth. For extras, I went around the back and licked and kissed her ass and the puckered little hole in the valley of her soft twin mounds, reaming her asshole, and then attacking her cunt again with my lips and tongue. She couldn't hold it any more. With a strangled cry, she came and came and came in my mouth. I went about the job in hand with renewed vigor until she pulled my head out of her thighs, clasping me tight in her arms.

The hectic activity had tired me somewhat, and I fell back on my side of the bed. She took my cock in her hand, and gently massaged it until it was standing up like an anti-aircraft gun seeking a target in the sky. She put it into her mouth, saying:

"I must now do for you what you did for me. You won't find me ungrateful."

She tackled my cock with her lips and tongue expertly, rotating her mouth with my cock inside, licking the cock head and the shaft, and then bobbing her head up and down as if I was fucking her in her mouth. She was indeed a very efficient cock sucker. She then straddled me, thrusting her open cunt into my face, leaning forward and taking my cock into her mouth once more. She tasted sweet and not tart and tangy like most other women. We pleasured each other in this posture for sometime, I licking and sucking her cunt, and she sucking my cock. She then shifted gears and now she was on tip of me with my cock inside her warm pussy. My cock moved inside her pussy impelled by her vaginal muscles. It was a never before experience for me.

She commanded me to hold on and not to cum.

"You'll cum when I'm ready, with you on top of me and inside me, as a man ought to enjoy a woman, and fill me with you warm love juices when I tell you, not before."

She got down and lay down beside me. I paid homage to this wonderful woman by kissing and fondling her all over, her face, lips, boobs, belly, her pubic area, her pussy, her thighs, her buttock mounds and the valley between them, with much affection. My tongue probed and explored every delicious nook and cranny in her body. She couldn't hold on any more, and in a strangled whisper said:

"Get on top of me and fuck me with that lovely cock of yours, now."

"Your command is my pleasure."

I entered her open cunt with a swift motion, entering her and then withdrawing completely. It was such a pleasure to enter her cunt and slam into her distended clit until I could go in no more, banging into her thighs and stomach and her soft body until she said:

"Whoa, hold your horses, buddy, not so hard. I'll be under you all the time you want."

I slowed my pace and began to fuck her pumping her cunt slowly, taking my time, and murmuring sexy little messages into her ear. After some of this, she started moaning and whimpering – she was good and ready to cum. We came together in a paroxysm of delight and passion, my semen pouring out of me into her cunt, filling her up, two strangers in the night.

"I can feel your cum inside me, it feels so warm and comforting" – she said.

I kissed her tenderly, and overcome with the lassitude that only a good sexual bout can bring, fell into a deep sleep.

I got up in the morning to do what a man has got do the first thing in the morning en route to a hectic day. When I came out, I found the room devoid of any human being. My sleeping partner had quietly vanished when I was in the bathroom. She had evidently finished her morning chores when I was fast asleep after my exertions of the night. My first thoughts were of my wallet and other precious possessions, but no, I needn't have worried. Everything was intact. On my bed table was a little note in distinctly feminine handwriting.

It said: "Thanks for everything. I knew you were a good boy."

No signature, no name, no address, no trace of her presence except a faint aroma of her perfume – just that little note in a cold and empty room.

She had not even forgotten to pay for the room, in cash, of course.

****************

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3 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 13 years ago
Fantasy without credibility

What kind of adult woman is afraid to stay alone in a hotel? And why the f..k would a scent trouble a man?

AnonymousAnonymousover 13 years ago
It was an okay short story

however, If things like this do happen frequently then I guess even though I have traveled most of my life I have never seen it happen or enjoyed the results.

Scotsman69Scotsman69over 13 years ago
A very lovely,

arousing, and convincing tale. Things like this do happen sometimes...

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