Guilt sucks, but so did the woman whose hair was pooled around his hips. He reached down and stroked the hair brushing up and down on his thighs. He felt the back of her head, that hard surface beneath the soft brown hair slowly rocking up and down in his lap. He ran his thumbs across the top and back of her ears down to the flesh of her earlobes. He felt the hot flesh across the back of her neck, squeezing the muscles at the top of her spine, causing her to moan as she sucked and coaxing her to go deeper, harder, blocking out his guilt in pure animal pleasure.
He couldn't help noticing that he was in a situation he had never been in before, in a place he had never been before, with a woman he had never seen in person before today.
He had been in hotels before, far more than he would care to recall. This chain of hotels, this very type of room was not new to him. The setup was the same from De Moines to Boston to Los Angeles to Dallas. The linens all looked pretty much the same. The beds all felt the same.
The city was new — but a city is a city. An airport is an airport. A cab is a cab. They all have their Wal-Marts and Targets and Best Buys and Staples and McDonald's and Wendy's and Chili's and Starbucks, all grouped together in one pattern or another.
The woman was a friend for years. Her voice was not new. Her face was familiar. Even the look in her eyes as she came was the same as he had seen before. It was a treat once witnessed while they were both online alone in hotels thousands of miles apart from each other several years ago.
But this situation, this was all new. His luggage, which he had remembered in a last moment of logical thought, was tossed in a pile inside the door. Her luggage was mixed into his, both sets seeming to embrace each other, spilling into the open mirrored coat closet across from the still steamy bathroom. Tracking across the room in a twisting path of their vigorous ecstasy was her coat, his shoes, her shoes and shirt all on the floor, her bra on the television. His shirt and pants thrown into the corner. Her panties next to his head on the pillow. He wasn't sure where her skirt went. He thought it might be in the bathtub.
He could hear a vacuum next door, bumping into the wall for at least the twelfth time. The only other sound was the sucking. Which stopped.
"OK Studly, you said you were good for round three, but I've been sucking this beast for twenty minutes and you look like you are daydreaming. I think I may be getting lockjaw here. Are you with me or what?"
Oh lord, did he love the smart-asses.
"I'm sorry. I'm just enjoying the view."
He was not lying. The sight and smell and touch of her in person was far better than online or in letters or over the phone. Her hair poured in waves off her head, across her shoulders and his thigh. He had pulled and twisted and ripped every stitch of clothing off of her. He sat at the top of the bed, also nude, his legs wide, her lying on her belly between them. She was on her elbows, her warm eyes locked on his, one hand rubbing softly across his abs, the other stroking his cock as she spoke. Her mouth was twisted into a half-grin to match her smart-ass comments, while every word brushed hot breath across the length of his dick.
His eyes traveled down the length of her back. He liked the fact that he could barely see a thong-shaped tan line just above her ass, but no lines across her back. He couldn't help but picture her sunbathing topless in her back yard. He pictured her laying on a beach towel in one of those ratcheting lounge chairs, first on her stomach, reading a book, sweating and glistening. Her wonderful behind, decorated only by a thong, covered in beads of sweat, getting slightly pink after hiding behind thick clothes for the winter. She was surrounded by green grass and trees. He could see her look at her watch, place the book down, and roll over, displaying those beautiful pert breasts to the open air. The thought of her naked out in the open let loose butterflies into his stomach and dropped tingles of sparks down his legs.
He couldn't resist reaching down and grabbing those breasts that had so magically appeared to him in the hallway earlier. He lightly stroked her nipples with his fingertips.
She arched her back a little.
"You can look at me like this all night long if you'd like. I believe I just came down with the flu and my evening meeting is just out of the question. Tragic, isn't it?"
She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed around his crotch and belly.
He stared at her ass, at the steep curve it made as it rose away from her back, remembering the swaying it was making not thirty minutes ago as he had a handful of her soft, luxurious hair in his hand and was fucking her from behind. The very thought of that ass smacking up against him made his blood rush with desire again.
"Oh goodness — just when I thought you were fading away, I believe this is full attention."
He smiled at her again. He brushed a lock of hair out of her face.
"Sorry, I get chatty when I'm horny."
Both her hands went to the base of his cock, she leaned forward and swallowed him all the way down. He could actually feel her nose press against his lower belly. Her lips squeezed down at the base of his dick. She moaned so loud, it sounded like she was the one on the receiving end. He felt a cold blast of air slide up from his balls to the tip of his cock as she breathed in around it. He felt his legs tighten, one of his toes started to cramp. And then she started to suck.
Really, really hard.
He could no longer see. His eyes had rolled into his head and he couldn't stop them. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. And little piece of guilt that was in him was sucked into her mouth.
He cared about nothing but the lips and tongue that were wrapped around him. The hair that was brushing against him that felt so soft and yet like an arc of electricity. The moaning that was becoming grunting as she started to move up and down, faster and faster and faster. The hand that was squeezing the base of his dick. The hand that was cupped around his ass, grabbing at his muscles as he began to thrust into her.
This was his whole world, his whole universe. Her moans were the sound of his reality splitting and tearing.
Another sound started to ring in his ears. A distant wail that grew like a speeding train. It rang in his ears, bringing his eyes into focus. He looked down at the beautiful woman stretched out naked and vulnerable between his legs. Her head and hands bringing him to a place beyond reality, the rest of her body starting to glow with sweat. A tiny pool was forming at the small of her back. Her legs were starting to move with the pulse of her head, her ass pressing and thrusting into the bed, her legs spreading out further, her calves tensing, her toes curling.
The sound continued to grow, filling his ears, like an siren going off behind his head.
As his thrusting and her sucking got wilder and louder, faster and stronger, harder and faster still, he realized the sound, the wailing, the screaming, was coming from his own mouth. He felt hot tears streaming down his face, burning like acid across his cheeks. His throat was tearing itself in two. Her hand was squeezing and pumping and milking his cock. Her hand was crushing his ass, her finger pressing into him. Her mouth was dripping sweat and spit and precum all around the base of his dick.
His scream turned into crying as he felt himself start to cum again.
She pulled her hand off his ass and put it around his dick, grabbing it with both hands and jacking it up and down as fast as she could. She sucked the top of his dick, wrapping her tongue all the way around it.
His cry turned into primal scream — more of a man going into battle than of a man about to cum into the mouth of a mistress.
And cum he did.