by Nicola Jane
'Any desserts for you this evening?'
The end
Or...
Well that was certainly satisfying, but there’s still plenty more fun to be had so you retrace your steps...
Room 942
This is a life changing moment and you hesitate at the door. You're fully aware that the moment you step into the bathroom, you're committed. In the next room a man you've never met has paid for sex and is waiting for a professional . Can you become that escort in the short distance between here and the shower? You shift your weight from foot to foot and the rhinestone thong exerts its gentle pressure between your legs, reminding you of the character you're already inhabiting for the night. Something was going to happen tonight after you put that thong on, whatever it was.
You drop your bag on the floor by the door and pour two glasses of ice cold champagne. The foam froths to the rim and subsides with a delicate fizzing sound.
'Room service,' you say from the bathroom doorway. In front of you is a dark head of hair under the jet of water and a smooth, lightly muscled back. It's the second time tonight you've seen this guy from behind and he looks even better than he did in the suit earlier. Soap suds run down his back and over the tight curve of his ass before it meets his strong thighs.
Your high heels tap out your steps on the tiles, audible despite the rhythm of the jets of water. He turns his head and lets the water pour over his face, lifting one finger and beckoning you closer. You hold out one champagne glass and stand just out of the way of the spray from the shower.
'Cheers.' He raises the glass and takes a mouthful. He looks you up and down and you hold your breath, suddenly worried you've given yourself away somehow or that he simply doesn't like what he's paid for.
You swallow some sweet champagne courage. This is it. The thought that you're the only one of the two of you who knows you don't normally do anything as adventurous as this helps you take two steps towards him. You touch the cold glass to the base of his spine and place your other hand on his waist and gently turn him to face you. The spray from the shower splashes around you like summer rain. It dampens your hair at the edges and sticks your dress to your skin. The warmth releases the perfume you applied earlier, a soft musky smell that combines with the alcohol and steamy air to make you lightheaded.
You slide to your knees on the hard tiles. Their coolness is a welcome respite and you take another sip of the champagne. You take his cock and let the smooth tip meet the cold liquid in your mouth before your lips enclose him all the way to the base. He sucks his breath in at the contrast between the icy tingle of the champagne and the hard warmth of your mouth. You look up and keep eye contact for a few seconds as you slowly pull your head back and down again, sucking all the way.
You stop just long enough for another mouthful of champagne and take his cock deep again, letting the liquid spill out of your mouth as his cock takes up the space. His eyes close and you know you have this gorgeous stranger completely helpless. The power is as heady as the champagne.
You don't want things to end too quickly so you hold his cock and squeeze. Then you sit back and rise to your feet, your knees screaming in relief as they straighten up.
The break in contact gives him a chance to speak. 'Overdressed for a shower, don't you think?'
You smile in agreement, turn round and unzip your dress at the back in what you hope passes for sexy and seductive. It peels away from your moist skin and falls to the floor. Instinct guides you to what looks sexiest and you keep your heels on. He playfully pings the thong at the top above the cleft of your buttocks and lets it snap back. 'Nice.'
His hands linger there before stroking your butt and dipping briefly between your legs. You turn to face him again and unhook your bra. This time he takes the glass he put down when you were sucking him off and pours the contents over you just as you drop the bra. You gasp as the champagne fizzes, cold and tingly, over your breasts. Your nipples harden at the contrast with the humid air. He bends his head to lick the sharpened tips and then presses both breasts together to flick his hot tongue and catch all the drops of sweetness. He sucks on them both together, hard enough that it would hurt if it didn't feel so good and you breathe in sharply. You don't want him to stop but you can't just sit back and enjoy it as if he wasn't a client.
Your hands reach down and you take hold of his cock, one hand above the other. You skim both hands up the shaft, replacing the lower hand with the top as you come to the tip in one continuous stroke. He licks and sucks your nipples and moves his hands to cup your butt. His fingers dig into your flesh and he slides under the rhinestones of the thong and traces the crack so you shiver. Your hands move faster and faster, brushing over the tip of his cock at the end of the stroke. His hands from your butt and he lifts his head. He takes your hands away, so you guess that he too wants to delay the conclusion. But, instead, he spins you round so you face away from him as he roughly bends you over. With the high heels you're just the right height and you slap your palms against the wall to brace yourself and spread your legs wide. He yanks the thong aside, grips your hips and rams his cock into you.
You're surprised how ready you are just from him playing with your breasts. But it's more than that. The situation itself is the biggest turn on. You've walked into a hotel room to fuck a sexy stranger, pretended to be someone else and are getting away with it. The pounding of his cock interrupts your musings on the strange night's events and you push back against him and match his pace . It's so hard and fast you think he's going to come in seconds but he doesn't. Instead he abruptly pulls out of you and slaps you lightly on the butt. 'Suck my cock again,' he demands, 'but slowly.'
You kneel again and take his cock in your hand, slowly running your tongue down one side to the base and back up. You flick across the tip and under the edge as you come up and then slowly lick down to the bottom again. You open your mouth and suck gently. Your tongue circles the sensitive underneath and you inch downwards and up, again and again. You reach your other hand around and his muscles contract as your finger parts the cheeks and touches the drier skin there. You feel a pressure on your shoulders as he pushes you back.
'Not yet.' He helps you to your feet and shuts off the water. 'Go and lay on the bed. I'll be out in a second.'
Your heels echo on the floor as you pick up a towel on your way out. You wonder if it would be sexier for you to drape yourself in the towel or just lay there in the thong. You opt to drop the towel next to the bed and lay back, propped up against the soft pillows to make your breasts stick out. One leg bent at the knee makes the most of the effect of the black spiky heels against the white hotel sheets. The fresh cotton dampens underneath your body. The air is cooler here and your skin comes out in goose-bumps.
He comes out, a towel wrapped around his waist, rubbing at his hair with another towel so drips rain down across his toned shoulders. You can't believe this is a job.
You let the bent leg fall to one side as an invitation and you notice that the towel is raised at the front despite the interruption. He comes towards you and strokes your leg from the foot to the inside of your knee, then higher until he reaches the edge of the tiny little piece of fabric. You nudge the towel to one side with your foot and his fully erect cock springs out from under the towel. He lowers himself over you and you inhale the cloud of masculinity he gives off. He places one hand either side of your head and you open your thighs wide, ready for him to enter you again but he doesn't.
Instead he holds his weight off you and just touches his cock to your lips and clitoris. His eyes glitter as he gently taps and pulls back and you admire the man's stamina. It's like a challenge, can you make him come before he gets chance to take another pause? You reach down with both hands again but this time you just hold his cock and rub the end of it up and down against yourself. You dip it to touch your wetness, push down slightly so he just enters you but then bring it back up and circle it over and around your clit. The bed creaks as he kneels back on his heels and watches as
you push it down again and then back up.
You're not sure who's enjoying it the most. Something tells you a professional would look after her client first so you change pace and sink his cock deep into you without warning and he groans loudly. You let him slide all the way into you, remove your hands and grab his ass, branding it with nail marks. His breath comes faster but you have a sudden flash of doubt. Missionary must be a pretty tame choice for a pro, mustn't it? You push yourself up into a sitting position and bring his head level with your breasts again. You control the pace and use your arms to help you thrust your hips before pushing him half back and to the side.
You straddle him and lean forwards. Your nipples rub across his face and he snatches them in his teeth before you sit straight up again and buck your hips. He grabs your ass and helps you to ride him harder by pushing you down and thrusting against you. You slam into each other – pure fucking. You're turned on, but putting more effort into writhing around sexily than having an orgasm yourself.
He sinks his fingers into your skin and you speed up that bit more until he gives one last upward thrust and a wordless cry. You wait a few seconds and then slide off him. He lays there with his eyes closed and you suppose that the usual thing now is to leave. It's strange to just get up and go to the bathroom with no intimate moment afterwards but then, there was nothing intimate about any of it in that sense.
You pick up your bra and dress and put them back on. As you walk back into the bedroom you see the thong on the floor by the bed and stoop to pick it up. He's got the towel around his hips again but is still laying on the bed where you left him, watching you.
'Thanks,' he smiles. 'That was fantastic.'
'Not bad for a first timer?'
His eyes widen in surprise. 'Definitely not.'
As proud as from any other work related achievement, you grab your bag and slip in the panties that started all this.
Turning away, you return to your normal life on the other side of the hotel door.
The end
Or...
You cannot believe you did that- what a rush! But there’s plenty more fun to be had, so you retrace your steps...
Home
You arrive home late. Work was a nightmare, traffic was a bitch, take-away for dinner again. Life is meant to be more exciting than this. That's the last time you agree to do extra shifts even if it's nice to have the money.
You flop down on the creaky sofa, looking at the well worn card on the coffee table in front of you. You pick it up and worry at the card's tattered corners. The ever louder voice inside your head urges you on again. Come on, come on, solve your excitement and money problems in one call, it insists.
Before you can let the sensible side of you get the upper hand again, you grab your phone and dial her number. Your blood flows faster and your lungs fill with a deep breath, instantly energising you as the phone starts to ring.
Or...
Today may be Sunday but you’re feeling far from holy....
It’s easier to beg forgiveness than ask for permission, and you’ll have plenty of time to do that when Sunday rolls round!...
Maybe you took a wrong turn so you retrace your steps...
Tequila?
'Is anyone sitting here?' You aim your question at the darker haired of the two guys but are already taking your seat as he shakes his head.
'Lucky I didn't say yes,' he replies with a grin.
'Lucky for me or you?'
His cute, blond friend joins in. 'Isn't any of this luck heading my way?'
'Only if you're buying the next round,' says the first guy. 'What are you having?' he asks you.
You nod towards their empty beer bottles. 'Same as you guys are drinking, thanks.'
'You missed the first part of our round – the beers are just the chasers for the tequilas,' says the blond guy. He catches the barman's eye and orders the same times three, without waiting to see if you agree. It's been a while since you downed tequila shots, but what the hell?
'You'd better tell me your names before I can't remember anything. Tequila…' You raise your eyebrows as if to suggest anything could happen.
'You'll only forget if you end up with Richie,' says the dark haired guy.
Richie pays for the drinks before replying. 'Lucky I'd be able to remind her a few times, unlike you Pete.'
'Sorry about him. He's so forward.' Pete offers a handshake with his mock apology. You tell them both your name and the three of you raise your shot glasses, toast to 'memories' and down the burning liquid. Your eyes water but they barely flinch. You gulp the beer to smooth the tequila's route to your empty stomach.
'So, what brings you here? You're not dressed like a bored business woman on a conference trip.'
'You're not dressed like bored businessmen either.'
'We're not bored now we've found you, are we Rich?'
Three more tequilas arrive and you protest but they insist so, swearing it's your last, you down it with them. You're light headed already as it joins the first shot. Somehow you find yourself confessing to being stood up which necessitates another beer as they commiserate with you, which then turns into a celebratory toast to their good luck and the IT guy's lack of good sense.
'And manners.' Your tongue stumbles over the words and you hope they came out clearly.
Pete gets out his phone. 'Give me the guy's number. I'll make him apologise.'
You've still got the sense to keep your phone to yourself and you take the moment to slide off your stool and weave your way to the calm of the ladies' room. When you get there, there's no denying how drunk you are as you bash your hip against the sinks. You collide with the door of the cubicle and fumble with the unfamiliar panties you'd forgotten you have on. The thong no one has got to see. Yet.
When you return to the bar, Pete or Richie has lined up three more beers but, mercifully they've let you off the tequilas. The trip to the bathrooms has seeped the alcohol into your system and you find yourself telling them about the sparkly thong you're wearing and then trying to show them the line of it through your dress.
Somehow the barman ends up in on the conversation and then the rest of the evening comes and goes in flashes of sounds, colours and the feel of hands and lips. You're not sure how you get to the room, but you zone in and out, aware of the contrast of their dark shirts with your red dress and the hand print smeared elevator mirrors. You know you're laughing too loudly, and that Pete's (or is it Richie's?) hand is under your dress as the elevator doors open and hotel guests stand outside. You giggle with your hand pressed over your mouth in drunken contrition.
'Sorreeee,' you trill at the pursed lips and frowns of the bystanders.
'We don't know her,' goofs off Pete, his hand trailing down your back.
The next thing you know you're laying underneath one of them on rucked up sheets on the bed, the sound of a shower running in the bathroom miles away. The cries interrupting your attempts to thread the rest of the evening together seem to be your own as he moves on top of you. You look down and see your legs wrapped around his back, a blur of pink glitter must be the thong hanging over one knee. The warmth of the tequila has been replaced by the heat of the moment and you concentrate to focus your mind on just the nerve endings between your legs. You will yourself on but the orgasm that comes is muted. He raises his head and whispers something to you. You can't make it out but you guess he's asking you if you came so you just nod your head and clasp his butt in answer. You drift off until you feel him buck sharply and suppose he's finished. You're half asleep and hope he won't mind if you drop out for a while.
In the morning, you can work out the missing pieces.
The end
Or...
Assuming you had as great a time as you think you did, maybe you don’t want to stop the fun here? You decide to retrace your steps...
Sunday
'Hi,' drawls a female voice.
'Hi,' you say before realising you're talking to her voicemail.
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'It's my day of rest, we all need one right? But it just means I'll be extra ready for whatever you've got in mind. Leave your message and I'll be right on it.' Her suggestive tone adds to the flirty words and you feel a tug in your groin as you think what kind of messages might already have been left.
You hang up. There'll be plenty of other nights to call.
The end
Or...
Hold on, there’s still plenty more fun to be had so you retrace your steps...
In the Ring
You leave the roulette table and look around the rest of the room. The noise of shouting and cheering attracts your attention to a small group of men in the far corner, standing watching something that you can't see. You walk closer to have a look but as you near the group at the edge of the room, the curtains open and another wig clad girl takes your arm and propels you forward in the half light. In a few steps you reach a gap in the curtains but she pulls you up short and hands you a mask.
You have no idea what she's expecting you to do. What do you need a mask for anyway? All the girls are virtually indistinguishable from each other. She brandishes the mask under your nose at your hesitation. 'Hurry up,' she hisses. 'Give me the wig. You're up next.'
She yanks your wig off, snagging some of your real hair and you stifle a squeal. The mask is to preserve your anonymity for whatever it is that's to follow. You put your hands up to tie the mask at the back of your head and are surprised again when she pops open the catch of the bra.
'Come on, let me have that too.' A cheer goes up from the men on the other side of the curtain. 'They're ready to oil you up.'
You let the bra drop. Oil? She shoves and you stagger out from the curtains into a small ring. The men circle the ropes on three sides and in the opposite corner a brown haired, masked girl is holding a bottle of oil up and pouring it onto her small, naked breasts. Hands from men within reach massage the oil into her skin and every intimate place they can touch.
