He entered the hotel lobby feeling rather conspicuous. A hotel liaison like this had long been a fantasy for him, and now it was happening - a night in a hotel with a beautiful woman. He felt sure the staff could guess why he was there. Smart in his suit, nervous, looking frequently at his phone, waiting for a message to say which floor, which room. Perhaps it never would, he thought. Maybe she had decided not to, or had been delayed. Or even, he smiled to himself, just fallen asleep. It had been so hard for them to get time away, to arrange to be able to meet like this, even for a little while. He wished it could be more often, but understood that this was impossible with their busy lives and responsibilities, and was just grateful that they could both manage this brief time together.
The text came through. Room 237. He breathed again, suddenly conscious that he had been holding his breath for a while. He smiled, again, easing a tension that had been building. Not wishing to delay a moment longer, he checked his appearance once more, picked up the flowers and quickly found the room.
As she opened the door to the hotel room he smiled appreciatively. She looked stunning as usual. Her make-up was just enough to enhance her prettiness, without masking it. Her outfit enhanced her body, revealing those areas she knew he especially adored. She smiled at the flowers. A typical, old-fashioned touch, revealing his nervousness. She took them from him with a quick peck on the cheek, and stepped away to put them on the table inside.
Quickly, he stepped inside and closed the door. Without speaking, he turned her round, put his hand up to her face, brushed her cheek and then ran his hands through her hair. Grasping it firmly, he pulled her towards him and kissed her passionately, holding her there for what seemed like an eternity. He released her from his kiss, but not his grasp, looking at her appreciatively once more, as he felt her hands stroking his body.
He kissed her again. A little more slowly this time, pushing her firmly back against the wall. He let go of her hair, but took hold of her hands, as they fumbled with his tie. Her hands were held firmly above her head as he kissed her once more, looking all the while into her eyes. He smiled. "No," he whispered, "you don't get to undress me yet."
Gently, he led her to the chair by the dressing table. He sat her in it and stood behind her, the pair of them chatting about their day and looking lovingly at each other in the mirror. As he stood there, his hands stroked the back of her neck, her hair, and then under her chin and to her throat. Teasing it gently with his fingers, or pressing on a little more firmly, his whole hand against it. His hands teased still further, running down over her tastefully displayed cleavage and then on to her nipples, at first teasing them through the cloth, circling them, encouraging them to become fully hard. He pulled on them, causing her to gasp, as she always did, and then abruptly returned to stroking her chin.
Seeming to remember something, he pulled a small gift-wrapped box from his pocket, and passed it to her, wordlessly, his eyes glistening. She looked at him in the mirror, seeking permission to open it. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, and she tore the paper off to reveal a thin box. Opening it revealed a dusky-blue ribbon with a silver locket threaded onto it. Inside was a tiny picture of the two of them, and a single inscribed word. Mine.
He took it from her and tied it gently around her neck. A choker. Or, she suddenly realised, a collar.
She smiled up at him, and they kissed once more, the animal lust becoming stronger in them. His free hand was at her throat, massaging it a little, encircling it, pressing just firmly enough to make her gasp a little, and then melt. His fingers teased the choker, and then he bent and kissed her throat - gentle butterfly kisses all over making her tingle - and then harder, more insistent kisses as his need became even stronger.
The abandoned flowers forgotten, he took her hair once more, pulling her to her feet as they kissed, and led her over to the bed, kissing her and then pushing her onto it; face down, so she was bent over in a position that made his intentions plain.
"Hands," he ordered. She hesitated a second, and then obediently placed her hands behind her back. Taking a silk scarf from his pocket, he bound them gently but securely at the wrist, taking care to make sure they were not dangerously tight. His fingers stroked her arms gently, and then worked their way down her body to the hem of her skirt. His hands slid up the inside of her legs, taking the skirt with them, parting her thighs and teasing deliciously to the innermost top.
"The meal..." she protested weakly.
"Don't worry. This will not take long. The first time, anyway," he promised, his voice smiling.
A sudden slap, though expected, made her gasp. Then 3 more, stinging, even through her panties. Then his warm hand, stroking away the stinging. Caressing her. She moaned a little, parting her legs hopefully, and was not disappointed. His strong fingers sought out her mound and rubbed it, touching her, pressing the slightly rough cotton against her increasingly wet slit.
