I had been traveling for a month now. The CPU22 had just been installed in 10 of our newest customer's largest branches, and I was the one who had to make it all come together. It was Friday night.
I went back to my hotel room to freshen up, ordered room service. "It will be up in twenty minutes" the room service operator said. Just enough time to take a shower. The hot water felt good on my shoulders, having been working at the computer all day. I had tried to call my wife, but she was not home. No telling where she was. A month without sex was wearing on me. Soaping my body, jets of water pounding on my back, my hand slid through the slippery soap.
I always got a sensual thrill when I caressed my own skin "Not bad skin for a 55 year old man" I thought. I watched the suds wash down my chest, sluice through my pubic hair and sag down the length of my flaccid and wrinkled penis, dripping from the tip of its head to the shower floor. I chuckled thinking "A far cry from what it can be" I pushed on the liquid soap dispenser and squirted a pool of silky white soap into the palm my hand.
Smiling at the resemblance of the soap to my semen, so often caught in the palm of my hand from my orgasms, I began to slide the slippery emollient down the length of my penis, feeling thrilling shocks run from my testicles to my anus. My fingers closed on my scrotum and tested each testicle, then worked the soap over the wrinkled sac.
Looking down I smiled as the insignificant wrinkled appendage began rising with the flow of blood, which I could hear beating in my ears. My fingers closed over the growing shaft, and began sliding through the water warmed soap. I squeezed gently trying to simulate the spongy walls of my wife's vagina, closing my eyes, feeling it slipping in and out of her luscious pussy. Soon, my knees grew weak, and I knew that I would be cumming. The soap had all washed off, and it was just my clean hand moving the loose outer skin up and down on the rigid shaft.
I held my left hand at in front of the head, catching the long white stream, as it pooled warmly in my cupped hand. My knees almost buckled, yet I kept stroking, my engorged manhood now extremely sensitive. I turned and let the warm water flow on my shrinking promontory, as I touched my tongue in the pool of semen, which looked just like the soap that had pooled there a few minutes earlier. I loved the taste of my cum, having tasted it this way so many times over the years. But, my mind imagined me licking it from my wife's blushingly, used vulva.
I longed for the touch, the feeling of softness and the delicate scent of a woman.
I put on a white dress shirt, and pulled my tight levis over my naked ass. I fantasized that I would go out tonight and make eye contact with a beautiful woman, who would be interested in the pronounced bulge in my crotch, emphasized by the fact that no underwear would soften the appearance. I laughed and thought I was crazy to think that way, but my time in the shower was becoming more special, becoming increasingly so as each day went by with no carnal knowledge of my wife.
The steak was cooked medium rare, and the appetizer of New Zealand Mussels, their vaginal appearance, pinkish lips, with a tiny clitoral mass at the top, made my heart beat increase. I tasted each mussel, licking my tongue through the groove before sucking the sweet meat into my mouth. Then cutting my steak, I watch the pinkness of the rare meat, its juices seeping downward. It was now 8 o'clock.
Earlier I had driven past a trendy bar, that looked like it might be a place that women might go dancing, or looking. "Friday night" I thought "not a good night for this. Most single women went out earlier in the week to line someone up for the weekend. But, my mind was in a high state of fantasy, and I thought that I could at least go out and see. It beat spending the night alone in my hotel room with my five fingered friend.
The bar was very cozy, and there were a lot of people there. I was disappointed that all the women seemed to be coupled with men, so I sat down and asked the bar tender for a Samuel Adams. The music was good, and I enjoyed the smuddling conversation, punctuated with laughter. The sounds of the women's laughter aroused me and I could feel myself rising , my pre-sensitized head pushing against the rough denim of my levis.
As I raised the half empty bottle to my lips, I looked into the mirror and saw them come through the door. They were both dressed casually, a young woman with long blonde hair, done in the latest style. She was about the same height as my wife, 5'4". She looked like an angel. Here companion was an older woman, maybe and inch or so shorter. Her hair, light ash blonde, was shorter, done in a flip, kinda like Dorothy Hammill, the ice skater. But the younger one looked very similar to the other. Both of the women were very attractive, both wearing jeans, and western looking shirts, both wearing cowboy boots.
Glancing at the younger one I noticed that her breasts were very nicely formed, filling her shirt. I could see the points of nipples pressing through the soft fabric of her bra, my eyes darted quickly downward and I noticed the seam of her jeans formed to the contours of her lips. I winced slightly as I felt my erection growing. She turned to talk with the woman next to her—maybe her older sister or mom—and saw the firm contours of her butt, and then the elegant hour glass of her figure.
I finished my beer and ordered another, nibbling and toying with the complimentary nuts and goldfish. I thought of the project I was working on—and about home. I thought about how good it was to masturbate in the shower, and I thought about the girl and her mother. Just then, as I looked into the mirror, I saw the two women looking at me in the mirror.
The older one kept saying things to the younger, and she nodded her head. She didn't smile. She seemed to be concentrating, and her eyes seemed trance-like. There was no question in my mind that she was staring hard at me in the mirror. I returned her gaze which seemed to intensify, and noticed that her nose was beginning to flair.
I noticed the arm of the older around her back. She seemed to be massaging her gently with her open hand. All of a sudden it seemed that the young girl bit her lip, her nostrils flared widely, and her cheeks seemed to flush. Just then her mother patted her on the back and said something to her. It seemed to me that she mouthed the words "Was it good baby?"
I was very intrigued. I had heard about women who could squeeze their pussy lips together and compress their clits against the seams of their jeans and have and orgasm, and wondered if she had done that. I could no longer resist the urge to talk with these two, so I got down from my stool and walked toward them. I saw the mother smile at the young woman and she seemed to say "Mom" as if the mother had said something suggestive.
I walk casually as if to pass them and said, "Evenin ladies."
"Hello" the mother said.
