Walking into the hotel bar I rubbed at my eyes and considered my life on the road, and just another hotel bar room. I barely gave a glance to the other patrons, but slumped on the stool at the bar and waved vaguely at the bottles on the wall. My old battered briefcase, that had once contained paper files now contained an equally old laptop, that my staff occasionally called The Kettle, when they thought I wasn't listening. What they did not know was that only the outer case was old, its insides had been regularly changed out by me, but the big old keyboard suited me, and it presented less of a target for thieves, looking as old as it did. I sat it beside me on another stool. The barmen asked politely, I named a brand of whiskey I liked and he wandered off, and I called after him, "No ice!" This American fascination with watering down perfectly good whiskey had passed me by.
Waiting for the drink I glanced around the room out of pure boredom. There was a couple looking over the bar menu card, a group of business people all listening to the one in the center, probably the boss, talking. It looked like he'd been going for some time, and was in no danger of stopping. I felt for them, I had attended a few after hours drinks parties like that. Then there was the hen party, in the corner. I assumed that was what it was because one of the girls was in a bridal veil. Most of this party though weren't all that active. At least one of them had fallen asleep, and several others were on the verge of same, only the bride-to-be herself seemed to be still drinking, or talking, or possibly both. The whiter than white cocktail dress, with the plunging neckline that seemed to finish somewhere around her naval, and the hemline that finished somewhere around her ass, matched her white heels, and dark brown curly hair that splashed over her shoulders, and after a quick second glance I decided that she was wearing barely nude nylons, probably pantyhose, given how tight and short the hem was.
I heard the approach of the barman, turned around, and just before the glass hit the counter, he slid a coaster beneath it. Even as I rattled off my hotel number for the little keypad he held, I saw his eyes look over my shoulder towards the girls, and he faintly smiled. In a conspiratorial whisper he said, "They came in about an hour ago. She's been up three times for something to drink, but her friends have barely moved. Quite a looker, isn't she?"
I did not look back over my shoulder. He must have seen me looking at them as he approached me, but I grunted an assent, and left it at that, and pushed the machine back with the whiskey added to my room tab. One of the business crowd came up and the barman moved off to take another order of drinks for all of them, before it was necessary to provide him with a conversation. I decided I was glad I wasn't with the business crowd, or the hangovers that they were going to have in the morning. I took in the TV above the bar and while my eyes watched something my brain didn't bother too, it slowly cycled down from a busy day. I took in the burning liquid in three gulps, and made to grab my briefcase, now slightly behind me on its chair, and my hand hit something soft and yielding and then curved around something as it tried to gain my briefcase.
Even as I turned I had a premonition of what the "something" had to be. The bride was standing between me and the other stool upon which rested my briefcase, and my hand for a brief moment was resting on her ass. I pulled it away, and started to stammer out an apology, but she gave me a look and then partially slumped on the bar counter, her face only a couple of inches from mine. "Hello cowboy," she said. "Do you know my best friend snores? I'm supposed to be sharing a room with her tonight. I'll never get any sleep if she's going to snore like that!" and for the briefest of moments she glanced back at the group of sleeping girls. Then she slapped the counter with the flat of her hand, and said, "Do you snore?" bouncing the little white purse that hung off her wrist.
She never gave me a chance to respond though, because her attention moved from me to the barman, her arm waving, the little white purse dangling, a prisoner to gravity. She was failing to attract him because he was deeply involved in a problem with the business men, and had moved out from the bar to talk to the head honcho, in what appeared to be a very animated conversation. No one else behind the bar tonight. I put my own empty glass down, pushed away from the bride, and moved around her to retrieve my briefcase. But as I moved she suddenly became unsteady on her feet, and I grabbed her under the elbow to steady her. for a moment we were frozen there, and then she leaned her weight on me, and with one hand resting on my shoulder, her mouth came up to my ear. The slow drawl in my ear made all the hairs on my neck prickle.
"I bet that that bastard of my soon to be husband is fucking whatever stripper they have got jumping of his cake right now, even though my brother told me he'd make sure he was well drunk before the stripper arrived. How come girls never get that?" Her voice stopped, but with her weight now leaning on me as I took a step away she followed me. "You seem nice" she said, "ever been a stripper?" I tried to take a couple more steps, but by now her other hand had grabbed for me, and she had shaken off my hand on her elbow to grab for my forearm. I had snagged my briefcase, but if I broke her grip on me she'd fall flat on her face.
She suddenly seemed to come too her senses. Balance returned to her and her weight was off me as she tottered in the heels. Without thinking I said. "Take the shoes off, it'll be easier to walk." She studied me for a second and then leaned back on me as she proceeded to remove each shoe, handing them to me in turn. I held them with my briefcase hand, since my other arm was being pulled from its socket. She took a couple of steps, and began pulling on my arm as she moved away from, and out of the bar. And while I did not see it, I was pretty sure that the barman, and a few of the business guys looked after me with something akin to jealousy. None of the girls noticed her dragging me away.
I did try to disentangle myself from her as we approached the elevators but her hands were like snakes gripping my forearms, and hands. As we entered the elevator together, and before the doors had slid shut, she leaned into me and kissing me hard, pressing my back to the elevator wall. I got a dazzling array of aromas from perfume, to alcohol, and sweat. Her mouth was hot on mine, and for a moment I resisted, but it was only a moment. I wasn't seeing anyone, she seemed pretty drunk but not without some rational thought, and I was alone in a strange city. A strange young woman in a tight white dress, the veil by now on her back, I wondered briefly what God I should thank for my good fortune, and then eagerly responded to her kissing. Her hands and arms were still holding onto to me, and trying to get get under my dress shirt and into my pants. With what passed for a free hand I waved the keycard at the elevator keypad and punched the number of my floor.
By the time we reached my floor, that hand had played all too briefly with the breast beneath her dress, my mouth going to her nipple, as it had moved down her front and underneath of the hem of the skirt to rub through her pantyhose and knickers onto her slit, I could feel her wetness through the material. Her hand was caressing my cock, alternatively squeezing and pulling on it through the material of my pants. We somewhat straightened up, her breast barely covered by the dress as we exited. No one waited, and her hand returned to my penis, and mine to her breast, caressing it, as my lips kissed and nipped at her neck.
It seemed to take forever to get to the door, a wave and the click and then I had the door open and we were going through the doorway together. I kicked the door shut, and pulled the catch over to find that she was already at the bed, hare hands on the elastic of her pantyhose, pulling it down to her ankles, bending down, the dress unceremoniously rucked up over her ass. I nearly ran up behind her, unbuckling my pants, letting them fall, and pulling my cock out from under my boxers seeing how wet her panties were as her ass wiggled, as she freed herself from the pantyhose hose, and i slid the panties down to her thighs and presented my cock to her pussy and slid inside her, my hands coming up to hold onto hips.
The bed was higher than usual, so she was able to rest her head on her arms, and it tilted her ass wonderfully up to me so that from the first thrust inside it was an easy stroke. She opened her legs a little further, and I was able to slide all the way inside her. From that moment on I just fucked her, forgetting everything, the pants and boxers around my ankles, the flying tie, still wearing most of our clothes, and from beneath her, her muffled voice kept repeating, "Fuck me, fuck me like he's fucking his whore stripper tonight!" So I fucked her until she came, her pussy suddenly pulsing on my shaft giving me the extra incentive to finish off inside, my cum pulsing out of my cock as I held her hips and holding my cock deep inside her, motionless.
