Who Fucked Angie Mcgee?

by

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Caution, .

Desc: Sex Story: Angie and her supervisor are forced to stay in the same hotel room at the end of a long road trip, and the inevitable happens. Or... does it? Author's Note: To avoid giving away part of the story, not all relevant codes are marked.



Peter Morrow rubbed his eyes with his fingers, trying desperately to get the sleep dust out and make them stop itching. He glanced over at his traveling companion. He had to admit, she was a beautiful young woman. Peter knew he had been away from home for way too long when he started noticing other women. His wife was the love of his life, his soul mate, his best friend, and the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Only when he was away from home for too long did he consider cheating on her.

"I would never do that to Dorothy, " he told himself and turned back towards the window.

Angie McGee sat on the other side of the torn bench seat of the cab. Peter was, technically, her supervisor and was significantly older than her. She guessed he was in his early to mid fifties while she was still in her early twenties but she did find him very attractive. He was charming, witty, handsome and still in pretty good shape for a man his age.

The two had been traveling from city to city. Most of their time was taken scouting locations for distribution nodes, warehouses and delivery services which would be vital to the new on-line sales company they would be opening soon. It meant a lot of time on airplanes, in cabs, in hotel rooms, and in board meetings, or bored meetings, as she and Peter had jokingly started calling them.

The two traveling companions, supervisor and assistant, had arrived in Dallas only twenty minutes earlier. They were supposed to catch a connecting flight back to Dulles National in Northern Virginia. From there they would get in their own cars and go home. But that wasn't going to happen. Severe winter weather had snarled pretty much everything from Winston-Salem up to Maine and from Knoxville to the Atlantic Ocean. Landing at Dulles was not only dangerous, but, from what the radio had said, next to impossible.

So instead of going home after almost a full month on the road, or was that in the air, the two companions were in a cab leaving the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport and heading for a small hotel near the airport where they would stay for the night. Every hotel for miles was booked up with passengers who were stranded. Peter and Angie both considered themselves lucky to have gotten a room at all. They had seen lots of people, even some families with young children, who either didn't have the luck or the money to leave the airport and get a hotel room. Peter and Angie had both slept in an airport in the last month and neither would wish it on their worst enemy.

It was going to be awkward. They both knew that. They only had one room. Lucky for both, it was a room with two double beds so while they might have to share a room, they wouldn't be sharing a bed. While Peter had been happily married for twenty plus years and Angie was in a long-term loving relationship, both of them were homesick, lonely, and, if the truth were to be told, just a little horny and attracted to the other. Still, neither of them wanted to make that mistake now, only a day or so before going home.

The cab pulled up in front of the Longhorn Motel and Restaurant and came to a stop. Angie already had a fifty dollar bill from her purse. She leaned forward and paid the driver.

"Keep the change," she told the young man in Spanish.

The two got out of the cab. They had left their suitcases at the airport, locked in lockers. Instead each had packed their necessities into a single small overnight bag so they wouldn't need to drag around the heavy suitcases. They could simply pull the suitcases from the locker, check them and be on their way.

The two stepped out of the car, slung their overnight bags over their shoulders, and closed the car doors.

"I'll pay my half of the cab, Angie."

Angie smiled as Peter circled around the back of the cab and came to stand beside her. Her eyes were burning and itching. She really needed to get her contacts out and go to sleep.

"Don't worry about it, Peter," Angie said.

When the trip had started a month ago, the two were very formal. She would never have thought of using his first name. Now, after a month of constant togetherness, she had stopped thinking of Peter as a boss and instead thought of him as a friend who had been there for her during some very rough times. Like that night they had spent in a small airport in Iowa. Both agreed that was the single worst night of the whole trip. Even not getting home tonight didn't top that one.

"You bought me breakfast this morning. This is my way of repaying you."

Peter smiled at the younger woman and then led the way into the office to check in and get their room key. As they had told him on the phone, they had only one room left. Peter used his company credit card to pay for the room and the two trudged across the rain soaked parking lot, up the metal steps, down the metal walkway and stopped in front of room 217.

"This is it," Peter said, checking the room number on the door against the room number on the key. He slipped the key into the lock, twisted, and the door popped open.

"Oh, thank God," Angie whispered.

Peter smiled and chuckled at her. Angie was a pessimist. He found it hard to believe that someone so young and so pretty could be so jaded this early in life. At first he didn't understand it but he had stopped worrying about it and now just found it amusing. He reached in and turned on the lights.

It was a standard hotel room - two double beds with a nightstand between them, a phone, an alarm clock and a Gideon Bible atop the nightstand. There was a small table just inside the door with a black, plastic ashtray and some menus from local restaurants that delivered spread out over the tabletop. One side of the table pressed against the wall beneath the window with two uncomfortable looking, straight-backed cushioned chairs on either side of it. There was a six drawer side-by-side dresser against the wall at the foot of the beds with a television set on it, the remote control for the television sitting atop the TV. There was another cushioned chair, this one looking somewhat more comfortable, beside the far end of the dresser. Beyond that was a stand to hang clothes and a counter with a sink in it with a large mirror hung over it. Just to the left of the sink, was the small bathroom with a toilet and a bathtub shower in it.

Peter held open the door and allowed Angie to go in first, and then followed her in and closed the door.

"Your decision. Which bed do you want?" he asked.

"I'll take this one," Angie said, setting her bag down on the bed closest to the door.

Peter nodded and set his bag down on the other bed.

"You hungry?"

"Starving," Angie said as she opened her bag.

"One of us should run down to the restaurant and get us some food while the other goes and gets a shower. You wanna shower or deliver?"

"Peter, would you please go and get the food? My eyes are killing me. If I don't get these contacts out soon, I think my eyeballs are going to come out with them."

Peter laughed.

"Alright, I'll go food shopping. Can't let those pretty green eyes be wasted on a place like this."

Angie laughed.

"So, what do you want to eat?"

"Anything but roast beef."

Both laughed. The last three planes they had been on had served a meal. All three had served the exact same roast beef dinner. The other meal that had been available was some sort of fish that didn't smell very good.

"Alright, no roast beef. Any other restrictions?"

Angie flopped down on the bed beside her bag.

"I want chicken. I don't care how it's cooked. Even if you have to get me chicken nuggets, I want chicken." She closed her eyes and let her imagination run. "A baked potato, fully loaded, butter, sour cream, cheese and bacon bits."

"Oh, sounds good," Peter said, now standing at the door.

"And some peas. No, string beans. Oh, my God, I think I'm about to have an orgasm from thinking of food."

Angie opened her eyes and they both laughed.

"Okay, so chicken, a baked potato, fully loaded and string beans. Anything else?"

"Yeah," Angie said, nodding. "Get me the biggest thing of sweet tea you can find. If they sell a gallon jug of it, I'll take it. It'll be worth wetting the bed."

"Got it. You get your contacts out and get in the shower. I'll knock and holler when I get back so you know who's coming in. I'll lock the door behind me."

"Thank you, Peter. You're a godsend."

"My wife sure thinks so."

He gave her a smile and a wink and then was out the door.

Angie went through her bag, getting out the necessities for her shower. Within minutes, she breathed a sigh of relief as she got her contacts out. She rinsed them off and put them into the cleaning solution. She picked up her clothes and made her way into the bathroom. Angie had to fiddle with the controls on the tub for a few minutes. Without her contacts she couldn't read which way to push the lever for hot and cold water and the red and blue markings had faded long ago. She eventually got a good temperature, pulled the tab to send the water to the shower head, and stood up to undress.

Angie was a beautiful woman of twenty-two years. She had short brown hair, that shined when it was freshly washed, beautiful green eyes, which even Angie admitted were probably her best feature, shoulders that were broad for a woman and large breasts that sagged only a little with large areolas and pink nipples that stuck almost straight up when she got cold or sexually excited. She had a flat stomach, thanks to lots of working out in the company gym, a heart shaped ass, and long, shapely legs. Her lover called her buxom. She thought of herself as curvaceous.

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Caution /