/!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd">
Why am I doing this, she thought, as she watched the elevator count off the floors. This is crazy.
Only two hours ago she had been one of the few people from her company left at the booth in the exhibition hall. It was closing time on the last day of the annual trade show, the biggest sales event of the year. Sure, she had thought about spending her final night in the fabled city looking for fun. But Amanda, her best friend and only other female sales rep on the team, was back home with the flu. And she had learned the hard way that looking for fun without a partner to help you fend off the losers and geeks was no way to go.
Better just to help close the exhibit, go up to her room, have a hot bath, watch a movie, and get a good night’s sleep before catching the 7 am flight tomorrow. Let the dumb guys on the sales team, who had been lamely hitting on her for three days, do whatever it was they always did on their last night away from wives and girl friends. She’d paid her dues, gotten better commissions then they did, and would soon make the jump to a really top flight organization. She was smarter and could always close deals faster. Which was the problem. Guys hated that.
She had noticed him immediately when he strolled past the booth, then stopped to look at the flashy displays. Not exactly “good looking” in any conventional sense, but certainly sexy, with long slender hands that were mesmerizing as they leafed through the product literature. His badge said he was from some big European conglomerate that never did business with her pathetic firm. But he had let her do her spiel without condescension, asking all the right questions, smiling as she answered in a way that drew her in and made the whole trade show scene briefly vanish.
When he moved on to other exhibits, she saw that he had left a business card on the table. As she picked it up to put in the prospects pile, she saw, written elegantly in black ink on the back, the words that sent a strange sensation down her body
Room 1789 – 7 pm
Trust me, you will not regret it.
The elevator dinged one last time. Yes, it was crazy but here she was on the 17th floor still dressed in her business suit, wearing nylons and heels, her hair pulled up. As she stepped out from the elevator, she caught the red light for the fire exit just to her right. Last chance, she thought, just go quickly down one flight right now and catch an elevator down to your floor before anyone sees you here.
That’s what her mind said, but her body was already moving down the hall to find 1789. One deep breath, a quick check to make sure her cell phone was on, charged, and handy -- then she knocked.
He opened the door and smiled, then stepped back, welcoming her into the room.
“So glad you could come.”
He was wearing a loose black sweater, gray slacks, and some sort of sandals. Mysterious Afro-Arabic music was playing; there was wine and hors d'oeuvres on a coffee table in front of a large leather couch. It was the kind of suite all the big players took on the upper floors.
He gestured to the couch and, after she sat down, took a seat in the complementary leather chair just to the right side of the coffee table. He poured two glasses of wine, offered the trey of hors d'oeuvres, while chatting with her nonchalantly about the vintage, his sales trips around Europe that let him visit all the great museums. . . .
She could not remember afterwords how long this went on. The wine warmed and relaxed her; the hors d'oeuvres were exquisite, the view of the city out the huge sitting room window magnificent.
And then, he was standing in front of her, gazing down at her.
“If you now trust me, stand up; if not you may leave and will never see me again.”
She stood up. He slipped around behind her, then pulled her down onto his lap as he sat on the couch. She felt him already hard beneath her buttocks. He whispered into her left ear,
“When sight is gone all the others senses are enhanced”
And with that, he deftly pulled a blindfold, the kind you wore in order to sleep during daytime, over her eyes, with the back strap pulled up under her long hair that he had somehow loosened.
“At any time just say ‘no more’ and I will stop.”
He held her at the waist and stood them both back up, then moved around in front of her, never taking his hands off her waist. Slowly he took off her jacket, unbuttoned her blouse but left it on her so that it hung open exposing her bra. He unclasped her skirt from the back, pushed it down and let it drop to the floor around her feet, then lifted each leg, one at time out of it.
She stood there, in darkness, still in her heels and her thigh high nylons, with her trim lace black thong now just slightly wet in the crotch , her skin above the waste partly exposed up to her matching black bra, inside of which her nipples were getting bigger. She desperately wanted him to touch her, anywhere. And she knew he knew that.
He placed his hand just at the top of the nylon band on her left thigh, ran his long fingers very slowly up the inside of her leg to where the front of the thong covered her small, silky triangle of pubic hair. She wanted his fingers to slide inside. She knew he knew that.
Instead, he pulled up on the top front of the thong with one hand and on the back with the other. The bottom front of the thong bunched up in her slit, the narrow back part tightened inside the crack of her buttocks. The sensation was extraordinary, radiating up both her stomach and back.
He must have stepped back then, letting stand there aroused, not knowing what might happen next.
Then he was back in front her, very close. He slipped off her blouse, unsnapped her bra, exposing her erect nipples to what she now realized was the very warm air of the suite.
“Keep your legs together, stand straight with your back arched, place your hands behind your head.”
She obeyed, the inside of her slit growing wetter, her clit beginning to swell, and a strange electric sensation running from her ass to the back of her neck.
He then just barely touched the tip of one nipple with what she thought was the index finger of one hand, the tip of the other nipple with the index finger of his other hand. Again the sensation was electrifying; she thought her whole sex would explode; she wanted now, more than anything to open her thighs, wrap them around his leg and push as hard as she could. She knew he knew that.
His finger were now slowly circling around her nipples. He then ran one finger straight down, from the middle of her cleavage, across her navel, just to the top of the thong. She quivered, arching her back up even more.
Then his other finnger was at he lips, moving slightly inside of her mouth, causing her reflexively to suck on it. He moved the other finger in under the thong, just at the top of her pubic hair. She sucked in harder, her back arched more. God, she thought, I could orgasm now, just from this.
“Have you ever tasted yourself?”
Before she could answer, he took his finger from her mouth, put that hand behind her back again. Then the finger at the top of her pubes slipped down quickly, that hand reaching in under her, inside the thong, the finger extending all the way back to her anus. He then pulled it slowly, deftly across the flesh between her anus and the bottom of her slit, inside the slit, up over the now swollen clit, and out. Then he rubbed the wet finger around her lips.
“Run your tongue around your lips”
She did, as his bare hand now came up on the outside of her thong and pushed against her clit. She moaned, “please take me.”
“All in good time, sweet lady.”
He then pulled her thong down, quickly to her feet.
"Keep your hands behind your head.”
He sat her bare ass down on the leather couch, spread her leg wide. Suddenly she realized he was kneeling inside her open thighs, his face at the level of her nipples, his tongue now just licking the very tip of each one. She thought she might scream, as the leather rubbed on her ass and her slit now truly begin to drip, her clit swollen and fully exposed. She wanted to beg him to run his tongue down her body to her clit. And she knew he knew that.
He must have stepped back again. She heard him say from a distance:
"Take your hands down from behind your back, Put one on your nipple and one finger of your other hand inside your clit. Keep your kegs spread, your ass on the couch, and make yourself come while I watch."
She obeyed. Sliding her finger in and out over her clit, pulling and twisting on her nipple, rubbing her ass on the couch. She imagined him looking between her thighs, seeing her get wetter and more enlarged. This aroused her all the more. She threw her head back and moaned. She was ready to come. And she knew he knew that.
She obeyed, barely.
"Pull your labia apart, as far apart as you can, Keep your thighs wide open."
She obeyed again. He still seemed far away. And she realized she was exposed in front of the huge window. The urge to stroke herself more, to come, was overpowering.
Then suddenly his whole face was in her crotch, his tongue all over he clit and pushing as far as it could inside her. She started to let go of herself.
"Keep yourself open for me."
She obeyed. And then started to climax, so quickly she barely realized it was happening. His face came up her body, wet with her, into her face, his tongue all over her, inside her mouth. She lost all sense of where she was.
He was gone again.
"Get up on your knees on the couch, your body over the back, your ass facing me."
She obeyed, pressing her breasts now against the leather at the top of the couch. She wanted him to take her from behind as hard as he could. She wanted to come again. Deep and long. She knew he knew that.
"Spread your legs. keep your hands behind your head."
She obeyed. Now her sex was open all around to the warm air, She wanted to reach back with her hands and rub herself more. She knew he was watching her, still in her nylons with her heels. But she had no ideas where he was.
Now he was on the back side of the couch, his penis out, just touching her lips.
"Take it as far as you can into your mouth; make it wet."
-to be continued -
Comments for Room 1789
Submit a comment
No comments added yet