Inspired by jaf
There she was, sitting at the bar just like she promised. I couldn¡¦t believe it. The lady in the black cocktail dress was as hot in the flesh as she was in the few pictures that induced me to meet a total stranger in a hotel bar. Granted, it was a nice hotel... and some of those pictures had stimulated some mind-blowing orgasms. Albeit, self-induced. But what red-blooded man wouldn¡¦t wank himself senseless over pictures of a classy, naked slut?
But tonight was going to put an end to those solitary handjobs. Tonight I was going to deposit stringy globs of white spunk somewhere else besides my stomach and my fist. Like maybe all over that perfectly made-up face, or between those perfectly painted lips. A shiver shot up my spine at the mere thought¡K
I¡¦d been chatting this babe up for months... getting into her head via our computers. We¡¦d gone from the usual chat room bullshit, to email and then phone calls. I never realized what a good time I could have on the phone. I had good reason to think she felt the same way, judging from the sticky wet sounds I¡¦d heard the one time I¡¦d convinced her to place the telephone receiver against her pussy while she frigged herself. Moans, you can fake¡K sloppy pussy is a sound unto itself.
By now I had a pretty good idea what sort of nasty things went on in that beautiful head. The kinds of things that made me plan this first evening with her very carefully. She might not know it, but tonight I ensured we would enjoy one of her darkest fantasies... one she¡¦d probably forgotten she¡¦d shared with me. Things upstairs were all set up. Lights, camera and all the action she¡¦d be able to handle.
And didn¡¦t she look fine, even better than the pictures I¡¦d managed to beg and cajole out of her. Fit. Long legs crossed at the ankles, those silk stocking-clad feet hooked over a rail at the base of her barstool. A pair of sling-back high heels rested on the floor beneath her. I followed the curve of those incredible legs up her thighs past curvaceous hips, past a tiny waist revealed by the form-fitting dress, up to the narrow elbows resting on the bar top. In one hand she negligently balanced a highball glass by its icy rim with her fingertips. Her nails were perfectly manicured, the fingers themselves dainty and white. She was perusing a newspaper and hadn¡¦t noticed me yet. I was content just to stand there for a few minutes and watch her. I wasn¡¦t the only one... I saw my buddy Mark at the other end of the room. He caught my eye, smiled hugely, nodded and left. The plan was set in motion. No going back. I approached her from behind.
"Ellie?" I breathed so close to her ear that she had to feel the heat of my breath. She seemed to go still, then a slight shudder rippled through her body. But when she turned on her stool to face me, the sight of her lovely face stole the breath from my lungs.
She was gorgeous. Wide, dark eyes rimmed with amazingly long lashes. Her hair was twisted away from her face and piled artfully atop her head, framing oval features and high cheekbones. Her lips were an enticing pout of rose-tinted gloss. I could just feel my cock sliding between them. And then she smiled.
"John," she said simply, turning my name into the sexiest sound I¡¦d ever heard. Her voice was smooth and low, even sexier in person than it was on the phone. Inside my pants a suitable reaction was taking place. It took me a moment to realize she¡¦d extended her hand.
It was the hand she¡¦d held the drink with. Her fingers were cold and damp, a stark contrast to the dry heat of her palm. I could feel the firm pressure of her icy fingertips press into the back of my hand as her warm palm flattened against my own. A smile curved my mouth, it was a real effort not to yank her off that stool and haul her off to the nearest elevator. But I was patient. Instead, I asked if she cared to move to a table, and gave the bartender our drink order when she nodded yes. She was drinking a vodka tonic, so I ordered the same thing for myself, minus the tonic.
Watching her gather her things was a study in the sublimity of grace. As she leaned down to retrieve her shoes, I caught a glimpse of her cleavage, until now hidden by the clever lines of her bodice. Her breasts were deep and full, not too large, but not too small either. If she was wearing a bra, I couldn¡¦t detect it, but her breasts sat high and firm for a woman the age she claimed to be. Her skin was white and smooth, almost translucent. She was absolutely luscious.
And here I¡¦d thought forty-five was over the hill. She was just about the most perfect creature I¡¦d ever laid eyes on. Elegant, classy, delectable in a way that transcends youth. The kind of woman I¡¦d always wanted to peel the layers from, to see what sort of wanton lay beneath the lady-like exterior. Old enough to have learned her way around a bedroom, but still beautiful enough to keep me up all night. Literally.
I guided her to a secluded table near the back of the bar, where it was quiet and dark. A buxom young waitress scurried over with our drinks, giving me that prick tease smile only a real ball breaker gives a man. As the girl lit the candle on the table, I shooed her away with a fiver. The stupid flake looked incredulous, at me and then toward Ellie, who ignored her completely. In a huff, the waitress flounced off, obviously not often out done by more experienced competition. In this case, there was no contest....
After that, Ellie and I made small talk, got to know one another a little, but mainly I was lost in the bottomless dark pools of her eyes. She was all heat, smiling slowly, her laugh a low husky sound that made my blood simmer¡K and every so often she would lean forward to make a point and touch my arm or my leg. I liked how she was so free with her touches, so open. Nice. Honest.
I asked all the typical things, how was the plane trip, what were her plans... she was going to be very busy. From what I could gather, tonight was the only one we could share. As the level of our drinks slid lower, I asked if she¡¦d like to go into dinner, although what I was hungering for wasn¡¦t on any menu.
Ellie must have felt the same. Her head went down, her lashes lifted, and she said, "No."
My heart began to pound as I felt that dainty hand slide up my thigh.
"No," she repeated, coming to her feet and offering her hand to me.
It was the only invitation I required. "I have a room upstairs... let¡¦s go there," I said.
Quaffing down the rest of my vodka in a single gulp, I rose and joined her, guiding her out the door and to the elevator. When the doors slid closed, I stood behind her, reaching over her shoulder to press the button to my floor. Then I finally allowed my hand to do what it had been wanting to do all night¡K which was pull her against me. Her buttocks molded perfectly against my groin¡K and she did nothing to stop my hand as it moved upward to cup her breast. All it took was her deep sigh to settle those soft curves into the palm of my hand.
I couldn¡¦t tell what she had on under the dress, but it was thin and felt like lace. I could feel the fat peak of her nipple straining against my fingers. Oh man, she was all swollen and tender. Her head dropped back to my shoulder as my other arm came around her waist to lock her against me. I tasted her neck, the exotic, light perfume she wore teasing my senses almost unbearably. She gave a sharp cry when I nipped the soft skin, but she made no effort to pull away. But then I knew already she liked it a little on the rough side.
