A room with a view
Finally, you call again. It has been long enough that I was
beginning to wonder if I had seen the last of you. When you
call, you are more subdued than usual, but my excitement
at hearing from you overrides your apparent reticence.
We chat briefly and you offer no hint of what is bothering
you. You suggest we meet at a nearby hotel later in the afternoon,
and I agree.
The hours pass slowly, but finally the time arrives for
me to join you. The hotel is near my office, and I walk, thinking
of the joy that our encounters have brought to my life--each
encounter something new and different, special and memorable.
Just thinking of you makes my cock hard, and I have to discreetly
adjust it in my shorts as I enter the lobby of the hotel.
As I walk down the hallway scanning the doors for the room
number you gave me, a wave of uncertainty sweeps over me.
I remember the flat tone of your voice when we spoke earlier,
and I wonder if you have called me here to dump me. My palms
begin to sweat and my gait slows, but no matter what, I must
see you again, even if it is for the last time.
When I reach the right door, I see that it is slightly ajar.
I push gently and the door noiselessly swings open. I scan
the room interior and I do not see you right off. Perhaps
the door is ajar because you have already left. As I step
into the room I have a view of the balcony, and I see you standing
outside staring off into the distance.
I quietly cross the room and approach the open sliding glass
door. Because I am walking on carpet, you do not hear me approach.
I stop at the doorway and watch you for a moment. The balcony
is small, surrounded by a solid wall a little more than waist
high. We are on the ninth, and top, floor, so I hear traffic
noises from the street below. You are wearing a stylish
plaid skirt and silk blouse, and your left hand holds a glass
of wine. You sip from the wine as you continue to stare off
into space as if you are in a trance.
A slight quiver of your ass draws my gaze downward, and I
notice that your lower body is moving rhythmically. I realize
that you are using your right hand to masturbate as you await
my arrival. As I watch, your motions become more active.
You sit the glass of wine on the patio wall, and slide your
left hand up under your blouse to caress your breasts. Your
ass is now moving back and forth, pressing your pussy against
your invading fingers. I cannot see what is going on, but
I envision your fingers first rubbing your clit and then
sliding in and out of your now slippery cunt. I hear the sounds,
little moans and chirps, you always make as your body reacts
to your practiced touch and you approach orgasm.
Your ass is jerking now as you focus on your clit, bringing
yourself ever closer to the edge. And then you cumviolently.
Your ass pumps against your hand that must be braced against
the wall. I cannot tell if your fingers are up inside you
or if you are simply pounding your clit against your hand.
You moan, a long low moan, and the movements of your ass begin
to subside. You place both of your hands on the balcony wall
and lean against it for support. I watch for several minutes,
giving you time to recover, before I move onto the balcony.
I move up behind you and press my crotch against your ass.
My unannounced arrival startles you, but you recover quickly.
You press your ass back against me, and I feel your warmth
invading my pants and heating up my already hard cock.
I feel you hands move between us and unfasten my pants which
then slide to the floor. I pull down my shorts and your warm
hands immediately grasp my cock, pulling me toward you.
You guide my prick to the opening of your aroused pussy,
sliding it slowly up and down between your engorged lips.
Without warning, you push back against me, and my cock glides
effortlessly up inside of you. So warm, so tight, so wonderful.
We remain that way for a moment, enjoying the closeness
of again being joined together, locked pussy around cock,
intimacy flowing between us without our having exchanged
a single word.
You push your ass back as you lower your upper body to rest
on the railing. This provides me with easier access to your
pussy, and I begin to thrust into you, slowly at first, and
then more rapidly. My cock reaches far inside you in this
position, and I feel the cool air swirling around my wet
cock as it slides out of you on each stroke. But then I glide
back in and I am warmed by the heat of your engulfing cunt.
My hands move to your breasts, massaging them firmly, pinching
your nipples, pressing them together as we move together.
I feel your fingers moving around the base of my cock, and
I know that you are caressing your clit as my prick slides
in and out of you. I know that I will not last long, because
it has been several days since we were together, and the
sight of you using your fingers to make yourself cum has
further aroused me.
As I pump my cock deep inside you, I look over the railing
and I can see the street traffic below. I realize how exposed
we are. I look side to side to see if we are being watched by
other residents of the hotel, but there is no one there.
And then, it no longer matters. I feel you pushing back against
me with growing urgency, and I move against you, trusting
harder and deeper, until we cum, cum together, pounding
against one another, trying to milk the full measure of
pleasure from our united parts and souls.
We remain locked together as my cock shrinks inside of you.
It is then that you speak for the first time. "I am glad
to see you, " you say. My heart skips a beat, but I know
that all is well between us, and that whatever is troubling
you can be worked out.
I move away from you, and you turn to embrace me. We hold each
other, still not speaking, but with warmth and affection
flowing between us like an electrical current. I take your
hand and lead you into the room. I slowly remove your clothes,
gently kissing each new curve as it is exposed. Finally
you stand before be, naked butbold, smiling that wonderful,
that joyous, smile. I pull down the bedcovers, and you climb
in. You watch as I undress and climb in beside you. We snuggle
together, each seeking reassurance from the other, hoping
we can get past this period of uncertainty.
At first, we do not speak, preferring instead to hold one
another. But then, you begin. Your voice is shaky at first
as you begin to recount the joys and pitfalls of your personal
life. You speak of your daughters, and your love for them
beams across the room in your smile. You speak of the uncertainty
of your future, your employment prospects and frustrations.
You describe your marriage and enumerate the difficulties
of deciding what to do next. Your voice is low and sad, the
voice of a woman rocked by turmoil and needy for attention
and affection.
As you tell about your life, I mostly listen, interrupting
only occasionally with a question. I do not want to break
the flow of your words in the hope that you will be able to
purge some of your demons by sharing the burden with me.
You talk for nearly and hour, and then you stop, burrowing
against my side, seeking comfort. I hold you close. You
seem to relax.
After awhile, you rise and move toward the bathroom. You
start the shower and call for me to join you. I stand behind
you as you stand in the warm stream washing away your fears
and concerns. I take the soap and begin washing you, reveling
in the softness of your skin and the smooth flow of your contours.
I wash each part in turn, memorizing each bend, each crack,
each crevice. You follow my quiet requests to turn, to bend,
to rise and stand straight. As I complete my task, you move
against me, holding me tightly in your arms. I wrap my arms
around you and squeeze you close.
At first I do not notice the subtle heaving of your shoulders,
but soon it is too marked to miss. You are crying, sobbing
against my chest. I hold you closer, knowing there is no
need for me to speak. I want to share your pain, to help you
through these troubled times, to give you a place of comfort
and release in your world filled, as it is, with chaos and
uncertainty. But I know that this is the time for me to simply
hold and comfort you. And so I do, hugging you tightly as
you flush some of your difficulties from your heart through
your tears.
All too soon we are drying off and then dressing. Still we
do not speak. I am saddened by the fact that we must soon part
again. Always those partingsnever easy and always uncertain.
As you prepare to leave, we embrace again. We press our bodies
against one another, extracting ever morsel of intimacy
and closeness as this encounter draws to an end. We kiss,
and I find promise in your kiss, not the ending that I feared.
I know we will meet again. I know that you will share your
pain with me, and that you will count on me during the coming
times of trauma and suffering. We draw apart, and you flash
me one last glorious smile before you turn and walk out the
door.
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