The Visitor

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He showers while she waits for him in the next room.
810 words
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She seemed like such a sweet girl, the kind that makes corruption all the more compelling.

But at best that thought was just a random intrusion, the kind you wave away to avoid distraction from friends who live beyond the boundary.

I was only in town overnight and we agreed to spend the evening at dinner. Obviously I'd entertained other ideas, and we had flirted a little at work and online but those limits had been established in our first few meetings and we had never really tested them again.

She arrived early at my hotel room while I was still recovering from a long day of meetings.

And she looked pretty in that short green dress, something I noted with interest that she enjoyed being told.

I needed a shower so I told her to make herself comfortable. As I closed the door to the bathroom, instinctively I went to lock it. But I didn't. Not that I expected anything to come of it, I was more curious, or maybe I just wondered about those boundaries after all.

In the shower I felt the usual dramas of the business day wash away as the warm water cascaded around me. And even though I glanced at the door handle for any evidence of unexpected possibility, I knew that was not going to happen.

Nor was I disappointed since I enjoyed our friendship and the unspoken accommodation we had made with each other over the months.

I changed into my grey slacks, and a comfortable light blue cotton shirt and let myself back into the main bedroom.

My belt was done up but my shirt was unbuttoned and I felt slightly self conscious when I remembered I had a visitor if only because I didn't want to embarrass her.

She lay on the bed wearing only black panties, a cheeky smile and a pair of leather wrist straps which she had wrapped around the bed head. Her clothes were folded neatly on the top of the dresser drawers in the corner.

I felt the power of my arousal immediately and her smiled widened as she watched the impact on me.

My eyes feasted upon that young supple body and she clearly enjoyed my attention.

Slowly, wordlessly I crossed to the end of the bed and very deliberately ran the tips of my fingers up along the bare flesh on the back of her legs only turning my hand over when I reached the delicious twin mounds of her sculptured behind.

I took a handful of firm flesh and squeezed, delighting in the ripeness. Her eyes closed and a small sigh escaped her mouth.

Lazily her hand reached back and felt my growing erection through my pants.

"Take them off," she said.

I looked into her eyes. I was all hunger now, but I made no attempt to get undressed.

Instead I took both her ankles in my hands and pulled her body until she was at full stretch, with her arms now extended and the leather straps of her cuffs taut from the tension.

The look on her face held equal measures of uncertainty and desire as I lent into her and whispered coarsely in her ear, "When you're the girl in the cuffs you don't get to make the rules. You just get to obey them."

I stood beside the bed and slowly unthreaded my black leather belt and her eyes were all hunger as I doubled it over in my hands and took a firm grip of it in my right hand.

Staring at her and smiling with equal measures of lust and cruelty I brought the belt down with a firm slap on the mattress beside her. I wanted her to imagine the power in my arms and wrists before I brought it to bear on that soft white flesh.

The next few moments of silence were punctuated only by her shallow breathing.

The sound the belt it made the first time its stung her firm fleshy buttocks brought a satisfying grin to my lips, and a little tear to her eyes.

Softly, I rubbed those sweet, reddening little cheeks as the welt started to rise on her skin.

Her eyes closed over and she writhed just a little, then she whispered just loud enough for me to hear, and her voice broken with hesitancy, "Do it again."

I leant in and bit on her soft little ear lobe, just enough to make my point.

Then I stood up again, walked to the desk and picked up the phone.

"Room service please. An ice bucket. A bottle of champagne. And strawberries and cream please..."

"Yes that's right ," I told the voice on the phone while my eyes devoured the promising feast laid out on my bed before me, "I have a taste for the sweetest things tonight."

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