I'm in the hotel room, our hotel room actually, since it's the same one we use to meet in when we get together. At the end of the hallway, around a bit of a corner, somewhat isolated from the other rooms.
Which is a good thing, because I'm loud, very loud when you finally slide your cock into me.
It's a suite, which the hotel upgrades me to without asking, I like the extra space even if we never sit in the living room or at the small dining table.
Today I am early, traffic from my mountainous town was light, the expressway wide open and given that I'm a somewhat radically fast driver, I made it into the big city quickly.
Check-in is simple, and the same green-haired, waif-like clerk has been behind the desk the last few times I've been here; she smirks at me checking in alone. I think it's because you usually stroll in right behind me, and don't stop at the desk, which means you're meeting someone. Two and two often do make four.
In the bedroom my jeans and t-shirt go onto the top of a cabinet and I rummage through my bag for your favorite black, lacey negligee. I also pull out my vibrator, planning to entertain myself before you get here.
The king-sized bed is huge, and filled with pillows, which I set in a pile on the dresser -- it's not as though we'll be sleeping at all. Plopping myself down in the middle, I stretch out on the soft mattress, and the clean sheets and glance at my watch.
You should be here within 5 minutes or so; we've gotten our timing down almost to the minute after months of meeting up. With that thought, I turn the vibrator on and press it against my clit, jumping at the feeling it creates in my body.
Stroking it up and down my slit, I'm wet already with the thought of your mouth on me, licking me, tasting me. Tongue against my skin, inside me, driving me against the headboard, my thighs slick with wet.
My mind wanders back over the last six months or so; our meeting was random, at a New Year's party given by mutual friends. We (you and your spouse, me and mine) walked in together and somehow you volunteered to get me a drink and as they say, one thing led to another and now we meet every few weeks in a hotel room.
I've been a SAHM for my entire adulthood, as well as a virgin when I married my husband. As we've aged, sex has become one of those "have you got time tomorrow night?" expectations in our totally vanilla relationship.
Hooking up with you has been one wild ride after another and some-times my head spins with what comes out of your mouth. Vanilla, you are not.
Lost in the pleasurable memories of you and the feelings the vibe is creating, I almost don't hear you come in. I leave the door on the hook for simplicity, it's not like anyone is going to wander in. Fortunately, the 'thunk' of the door closing alerts me to your arrival and I decide to stay in this position as I hear you walk back to the bedroom.
You often call me your 'little slut' and what could be more slutty than being sprawled on a king-sized bed, wearing a see-through negligee pulled up under my breasts, legs spread and my vibrator up against my cunt?
A quick glance at me when you step into the room and you grin and say, "Continue -- I want to watch your performance before I let you undress me."
I've never teased you this way in person; on the phone, yes, I often fuck myself with this vibe during our phone sex conversations (are they conversations or just mutual masturbation sessions?) and I'm looking forward to tormenting you beyond your ability to just 'watch'.
Your eyes are glued to the space between my legs; with which you are very intimately acquainted. For months now, your mouth has explored me there, your cock has driven deep inside me there.
I turn the vibe back on, and begin again. This time I'm already wet and I'm wetter still knowing that you're watching how I get ready to fuck myself in front of you.
Stroking the vibe up and down, pausing on my clit, shuddering as the vibration makes me cum instantly, a soft "Oh" emanating from my mouth before I slide it back down across my slit.
"Enough foreplay," your voice is hoarse, "Fuck yourself already."
"Mmmmm," I reply, lost in my arousal and imagining the raging hardon inside your jeans. "In a minute."
Taunting you, pushing you, these are the games we play, and both enjoy.
Eventually, I slide the plastic cock inside my body, slowly, letting you watch it disappear into me, knowing you'd rather have your cock in that same space, that soon it will be.
In and out I thrust the pink cock, mimicking actual fucking as I bury it in me, feeling the vibrations both inside me and on my clit. After years of practice, I know just how to make myself cum, the orgasms rolling together endlessly until I pull it from my body and turn it off.
Not one to actually talk during sex, I find myself muttering "Yes, oh yes, right there, fuck yes" as the vibrations begin to drive me wild.
My eyes are closed, and I have no idea how you're reacting to this show, more involved in my own pleasure at the moment. I can only imagine that you've at least lowered your jeans and are stroking yourself, eager to join me on the bed.
The first orgasm hits me hard, and I writhe on the bed, holding the cock in place, not wanting it to end just yet. Again and again, I convulse with rapture, riding the waves of pure pleasure before I reach my limit and pull the cock from inside me, nearly flinging it away from me as I continue to squirm on the bed.
"Come here." Raspy with desire, your voice interrupts my continued orgasms and I sit up and look at you for the first time since you arrived. "Next time slut, you wait until I let you cum. You need to hold it off as long as I want you to. Do you understand?"
Mutinously, I scowl, holding off is not in the program; I cum easily and often and trying to resist that happening will be nearly impossible.
But I know arguing right now means a punishment, something like you leaving the room for a short while, letting me stew before you come back and take me roughly without speaking, dress yourself and leave.
