He wandered around the reception Hall of the conference, nodding recognition to people he met last year. He remembered who they were, though often not their names. If he remembered them, they might also remember him. That was the trouble. He was looking for a very special woman. He didn't know whom, but he would be certain when he found her. He didn't want people who knew him see him picking that special girl. That could lead to complications.
He had an acute sense of smell, trained perhaps back when he was in a quality control group of a French perfume company. Passing a group of people he smelled the heady aroma of a female sexual pheromone, a special hormone the female body so often emits when sexually excited. The prim blonde in the group he just passed was in her mid thirties, trying to act cool and in control of the world around her. But he could tell. The pheromones he smelled evaporated from her body. She was hot, looking for a man, ready to take him for the night or if he's with a wife in the powder room, have a quickie behind the unused stage. But she was not the woman he needed. His sense of smell told him none of these groups of conventioneers contained his kind of woman. Convinced he wouldn't find what he wanted, much less safely pick her up in this convention, he walked toward the lobby.
He'd have to go to the hotel across the street and crash the conference being held there. It wouldn't be hard. His nametag for this conference would be honored by the other convention. Then he stopped in his tracks, as might a daydreamer who suddenly sees the train bearing down on him, as he was about to cross the railroad tracks. The woman he wanted was a caterer carrying a tray of appetizers, not an attendee here for the Conference High School Counselors. She was not exceptionally beautiful nor did she project the intense sexuality so apparent in many overtly sexy beauty queen types. She had a pageboy look, with her short black hair and boy sized body. She was simply a waitress, hired by a catering service for one night jobs like this. She had a provocative walk and sway in her body. Men noticed her. She seemed attracted to them, but she ignored their advances.
Then she saw him. She had been talking, but seemed to stop in the middle of a sentence when she noticed him staring at her. He strolled a bit closer and suddenly that smell of the woman-in-heat pheromone shifted from a background smell to a pungent demand for his attention. When she saw him, her body seemed to explode like a teargas bomb, only she poured out sex hormones that excited the men surrounding her. They didn't know what hit them. She was roaring furnace of sexual desire. She emitted more sexual pheromones than any girl he had ever met. Other men suddenly felt a little hornier, but he was the only one who had trained himself to recognize and identify what was hitting him.
As he got closer to her, his nose told him one other thing about her. She smelled like his kind of woman. Many psychologists, specializing in love, claim that most men and women choose their mates because of smell. They don't know why they fell in love, but some primitive monitor in their bodies told them this person has a very compatible smell.
Unlike the other normal women looking for a man, this one was pure lust and she also smelled good.
She stared at him, forgetting she was supposed to be serving the conventioneers. He walked up to her, smiled, and said softly so nobody else could hear him, "Don't tell me your name and I won't tell you mine. That way neither of us has to lie."
She looked confused. No doubt she had a set of standard responses to advances and quips conventioneers made to her. But he knew with absolute certainty that she was his for tonight.
She felt horny. All these strutting women trying to attract a man for tonight's pleasure for no reason better than they were free at the convention and not being watched by either husband or boy-friend, and could have meaningless sex for fun and pleasure, and pretend she was once again a young sexy woman. The men had motivations no more profound than the women's.
True, she felt very horny and wanted to get laid that night, but knew she didn't have the guts to do it simply for pleasure. Tonight, however, desire for sex had a serious purpose beyond pure lust or even love.
Then, in her peripheral vision, she saw this tall man watching her. He was in his thirties, a conventioneer, which would make him some sort of advisor or counselor in a high school. She knew instantly, he was the man she wanted. She knew he was eager to take her. She didn't know why, she just knew. Then he walked up to her and quietly told her not to tell him her name. "That way either of us has to lie." She had heard every line and was even prepared to spend the night with the man whose opening line was prosaic and not as enigmatic as this.
Collecting her thoughts, she said, "I take it you're looking for some anonymous sex. A quickie or an overnight, or maybe a slap in the face."
"When are you through working tonight. I'll meet you in the lobby, near the elevators."
"That's presumptuous of you. Too cheap to take a girl out to dinner.
"I'll let room service bring us up drinks and dinner. It is you I want."
"Pretty sure of yourself aren't you."
"No. But I am sure of you. You want me as much as I want you. When. Now would be great, but you're still working. So when are you done tonight?"
"I'll be waiting for you by the lobby elevators."
She continued to offer her tray of finger food for guests standing by, drinking and renewing old acquaintances, and waiting for the banquet doors to open. She had to help serve dinner but wasn't scheduled to serve drinks and deserts during the after dinner talks. She would be free at ten.
Who was this man who so captivated her imagination? And she, she told herself proudly; apparently he was very attractive to her. Not just sexually. Of course they both were eager to fuck each other, really fuck, not just a casual quickie, but she felt certain there was something deeper going on between them, something more profound than just a few hours of in-and-out, and not just pretending they were in love. His initial wish that they be honest and not to lie to each other seemed to say that he had his own secrets and he knew some hidden emotions were bothering her, and they should either admit the truth or honestly say that they prefer not to talk about it. When she saw the man, she knew instantly that she wanted not just sex with him, not even love, something more important than either sex or love.
The doors to the banquet hall opened and people slowly poured in to find their tables. Hotel staff waiters served the multi-course meal while the contract caterers, like her, served drinks and anything the guests desired.
When dishes were cleared away and people swung their seats around so they could watch the presentations on the stage, her job was done. Yes, it as almost ten o'clock. Would he be there?
Her job done, she changed to her street cloths. She made sure none of her coworkers were tracking her as she walked over to the bank of elevators serving the lobby. She felt she should avoid him, tell him he cannot dominate her, but he was so intriguing, and, Damn It! Be honest, she told herself, she wanted, she needed him, no other man, but him, for tonight. She couldn't think of any man who ever excited her this much, not even her husband to be five years ago. She stepped out between the six elevators and there he was, walking toward her.
He took her by the hand - his touch was electric -- and led her to an elevator and pressed floor 7. A middle aged couple was already in the elevator. He took her to a rear corner, turned her around so she was facing outward and turned around and pressed his body against hers, shielding her from the view of the other couple ... With his left hand he tilted her head upwards and then leaned over to kiss her. She felt his erection press her abdomen. As his tongue slipped between her lips and her tongue met his, automatically, without thinking about it, her hands moved to his crotch. One hand rather roughly kneaded his stiff rod still under his by his heavy suit. She smiled mischievously and her other hand quickly unzipped his fly and reached in.
The other couple in the elevator was attracted by the panting noises she made as she kissed him. They turned around but couldn't see much because his body still covered her.
He felt the girl's hand stroke his shaft and start to pull his pants down. "O you want to play that game?" He grabbed the top of her blouse and yanked. Buttons popped and his hand was suddenly pulling her bra down. Her tits stared at him, proud and erect, nearly perfect cones, and her nipples stood up as hard as stone. The other couple stared in amazement.
The elevator bell rang. Seventh floor. The door opened. He led her by pulling her bra, which was still around her naked torso. She hung on to his erection. The other couple was still fumbling with their pocket camera when the door closed.
"Is he going to rape her?" The woman asked her husband.
"More likely she's going to rape him. That gal is hot."
"Lets go down to our room and have a quickie," the wife suggested.
"Let's do it right here. Lean against the wall. We'll do it standing." He pulled her skirt up and pushed her panties down.
Except for her panties, she was naked when they reached the door. Torn articles of clothing littered the hallway carpet. By the time he managed to close his room's door, she had stripped him naked and he almost fell as his ankles got tangled his pants legs. She still hung on to his cock.
He picked her up the dumped her on the king sized bed. She lay there for a minute, one hand still clutching his cock and her eyes never leaving it. "Please," she said as she pulled him down on the bed beside her, face up. Then she leaned over and examined the cock closely.
"I think you'd like a formal introduction to Behemoth, my cock's name. Corny, but I was a kid when I named him." Her lips caressed Behemoth's urethra. Then she played with the now rather taut foreskin. She nibbled with her lips, sucked the skin. She turned her head to his. "I'm Jewish. I never touched an uncircumcised cock." A pause, as she played with her new found toy. "Tell me if I do too much. I don't want you to ejaculate, at least not yet."
"Put the tip in your mouth."
"Wouldn't sucking be more stimulating than playing with the foreskin?"
"Not now. If you're that excited by the foreskin, that excites me too."
Before she could obey, the cock suddenly pulsated. A jet of sperm hit her in the face, and the next fountain of sperm washed her left tit. Then she pushed the cock down to her pussy. A few more spurts wet her tummy and pubic hair. She didn't get the cock into her vagina, partly because she was too excited to aim properly and partly because the hole was so tight. Behemoth slid up her slit and bounced over the tight hole like a tire hitting a rut in the road. Behemoth slipped out of the slit, now dribbling sperm on her abdomen.
He pushed his body against hers. They felt the sperm between their bodies being squeezed out and oozing down her sides. He moved her around and sperm was like a lubricant and she slid on his body like sliding on grease. She maneuvered her pussy so it enveloped his cock.
They could make that sexual rhythm, back and forth, by sliding her body against his and all the time his cock was doing the old in and out in her vagina. Since it was so tight and this was such a sudden coupling with no foreplay, the hole was too tight for deep penetration. They both were satisfied with only a two inch deep fuck.
She suddenly shuddered and screamed. He recognized it as a climax. So quickly, just a few stokes was all it took. Yes indeed, she had been a pathetically sexually frustrated woman.
"This is wonderful," she whispered, laying back on her pillow, arms and body loose. "I never knew this was possible." She sort of giggled, and then, more seriously, "Will he come again?"
"Soon. Consider this as foreplay for the next eruption."
They continued for ten minutes. The semen, exposed to air, got thicker and stickier. "Ouch," she said."
"The semen is starting to act like glue."
Their thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Room Service."
"I ordered drinks and a late night snack."
She pulled away and ran across the room, forgetting the she was naked. Being naked with this man seemed so natural that all inhibitions had been lost. She opened the door and the hotel employee, pushing a cart, entered.
He looked at the naked woman, said nothing, and walked to the man with a slip of paper. He signed for the service and said, "Looking at my lady friend should be tip enough, but," he added a twenty percent tip, "the nudie show won't feed your family." The waiter nodded appreciatively, sniffed the air, obviously smelling semen, and looked at the girl once again, who suddenly blushed. The waiter said, "Pardon me," and left.
"I forgot about being naked until the very end," she exclaimed, running up to her man and sitting on the bed beside him. "I feel being naked with you is right and proper and hiding under clothes would be some kind of sacrilege. I never felt that way before."
"You're not supposed to fall in love with me."
"I won't. I know I won't. In fact, I can't. But I am in lust with you. Can we get down to some real hard fucking now?" She put his semi-hard cock back into her rather tight sex hole.
"In ten minutes I should be hard and strong enough to fuck the living bejeezus out of you."
"I know we agreed not to pry into each other, not even names. But surely volunteering information isn't the same as being inquisitive or trying to trick you into saying more than you intended.
"Not unless you expect me to match confessions."
She nodded. "OK, I don't want you to tell me what you think of me, but let me say that I get propositioned a lot catering to conventions, but you're the first man I said 'Yes' to. I felt horny. I often do. The men I serve are away from their women and looking for adventure and the women are being undressed by men's eyes. When I saw you, I instantly knew I had to fuck you. It was lust, not love, at first sight. Please, just lust for me, but don't fall in love with me. I want you for sex, not love."
"That's what most men really want when they say, "I love you." But I can believe you. You are an incredibly sexually frustrated woman. You held the sexual pressure back for a long, long time. For some reason, and I don't know why, when you met me, the dam burst."
"Why? What happened? Why did I select you? Why did I say yes to you, but never to any other man?"
"I'm not sure what I had that attracted you. But you attracted me by both smell and looks."
"Smell. How weird."
"Not really. Smell is most important in the animal world; a bitch in heat might stimulate a male dog a half-mile away if he's downwind; but birds are different. Sight and sound, as in a peacock's feathers or a robin singing, turn them on. Right now your body is flooding this room with sexual pheromones, sort of like hormones broadcasting you're eager get laid. Even in the reception hall, I could smell them, and I knew they were coming from you. Most people don't even know what chemical messages they broadcast."
"That's why you selected me? Chemistry?"
"No. That only told me you wouldn't say no. That's why I was so cock sure confident and brazen. But that's not why I selected you. A dozen awfully good looking, very hot women were out there trying to look cool. That's not why I wanted you. Why? That's my secret. But I knew you'd say yes, and even if you pretended you weren't interested, I would've tried to seduce you. And from pheromone you secreted, I knew I would've succeed."
"To me you were someone special."
"I love to hear you say that. You really don't think I'm just another slut."
"Definitely not. And now, as you requested, let's get down to some serious fucking."
"I'm pleased you call it fucking, not making love."
"We'll start where we left off." She looked at him as if to ask, "Where was that?"
"I was amused when you blushed and yet had the style not to try to cover yourself when you realized you had been running around naked in front of a stranger. I really like it when you said being naked in front of me seemed more natural than being dressed. We were interrupted when you were examining my uncircumcised cock and he suddenly exploded. Go back to examining my cock." At the mention of his cock, her hands automatically grabbed it like a child snatching candy before a sibling got to the bowl.
He took her hand and guided her fingers helping hr bend my semi-erect cock. "This soft cock is supposed to make me feel sexy? It's not hard yet."
"It will." Guiding her fingers again, he helped her roll back the foreskin. "Now, don't touch, just watch." He reached for her breast and gently rolled her hard nipple between thumb and forefinger. Then he squeezed a little harder. As her nipple hardened, so did Behemoth. She watched in utter fascination as the tip pushed its way forward, through the foreskin.
"Can we do that again? I want to feel it get hard with the tip in my mouth."
"He doesn't want to get smaller. But go down on him. He can still get bigger." That satisfied her.
"Ooo! What's that taste? You're not coming again are you?"
"No. Called pre-cum. A lubricant that lets Behemoth slide into the vagina easily. Your pussy is a bit tight because you haven't been giving it enough exercise.
"Now put him it the lips of your vagina." She obeyed.
"When this monster bores his way through you, the lube job should keep it from hurting too much. Stretching the tightness may not be comfortable at first, but if both cock and hole are dry, there might be abrasions and bleeding. But your pussy is all juicy. It won't even need my pre-cum for lubrication.
He plunged in. "Owww, that hurt."
"Remember and cherish the pain. Pretend you're a virgin being raped. Your hole is tight, almost like when you were a virgin, I bet. I can tell, only normal or small sized cocks ever got in there."
"I was afraid of big cocks."
"I thought so. I figured tonight you don't want your man to be gentle. You want a big cock macho man."
"Yes, but not for the usual reasons."
He was still wondering what psychic hang-ups she had.
"Do you want me to use a condom? It's more pleasure without one."
"No. Definitely not. When you squirt your juices in me, I want it into me, not a latex balloon. I want to feel the fire hose spray my insides. Disease? I'll take my chances. I'll worry about that later. Now, I need the real thing."
For the next ten minutes it was sex designed to provide pleasure. He took her to the edge of a climax, then pulled away. The next time he built up that sex heat in much the same way, but instead of lingering at the precipice, he plunged over. He took her up to a climax and then even more. She screamed, first in surprise and then soared in ecstasy. Semen squirted into her, blasting her inside with such force she could feel the impact. She knew what it was and that was what she wanted. He guided her back to earth, to semi normalcy.
"That was an orgasm?
"Yes, and then some."
"Those things my guy called an orgasm were just little mild peaks of pleasure, like a single fire cracker. This was the whole firework display set off all together." She looked at him, and suddenly serious, her voice worried but still full of hope. "Is that it? Going beyond that might kill me. At least the first night. Maybe I can become stronger and take bigger doses."
"Next time is in a few minutes. I'll be different, but just as good."
"Is that possible?"
"Definitely yes. He rolled over and sat on the side of the bed. "But first," he said, "let's eat." He smiled and led her to a small table. Both were still naked, she leaking semen down her leg, and a string of semen connected the semi-erect cock to her black pubic hair. "I ordered a snack to give my body time to recover for the next bout. So don't eat fast. Linger and enjoy. You'll enjoy the sushi more and you'll also find the next round of sex better if we don't rush into it."
They dined slowly.
Finished, she said, "Let me put the tray of dirty dishes in the hall." She took the tray, and naked, walked outside without looking down the hall. She was momentarily out of his view. He heard man's voice. A minute later she returned.
"Nobody out there, but then the couple we met in the elevator turned the corner and came down the hall. I asked them if they had sex because of us. "Yes, we just made love." "Made love, not simply had sex?" "No," he answered. "We're not young, but we still love each other."
I was jealous. I had to come in least I burst out crying."
He saw a tear roll down her cheek.
"We," he said, "will have to be satisfied with raw, orgasmic fucking." He took her and pushed her down on the bed. He had to get her high on sex and keep her from thinking of the encounter outside.
He started by sensitizing her body; his mouth kissing, pulling, nibbling, playful biting her nipples, his tongue tantalizing hers. Her earlobes proved to be especially receptive to tiny bites. He used his fingers, tongue, and cock to play with her clit. Soon she was howling with pleasure and the middle-aged couple was forgotten. His finger wormed its way into her anus. "No" she shouted.
"My finger. You'll soon like it, as when I suck a nipple. If okay with you, I'd like to use my cock too, but I promise I won't let it come."
"Please, do anything to me you want to. My body is yours, but when you come, squirt your juices only in my fuck hole. Deep, deep, into it. No anal squirting, no wasting good semen on facials or lubricating our two bodies. Please. Your balls are big. Squirt all that into me. I don't care if I leak a streak of white sticky goo across the lobby rug when I leave. Just give me all you have." He thought he detected a slight sob in her voice, or was she just catching her breath? "Then use me any way you want to. Because I want you to enjoy the body I enjoy giving to you."
"I trust you. You know where not to squirt your sperm. Everything else is yours. I know you wouldn't kill me or really injure me. With you ordinary pain can be a pleasure."
She was eager to learn about men. Obviously, she had read a lot, but woefully lacked practical experience. He was a good teacher and she learned fast.
"What's next?" she asked.
"A sixty-nine. Know what that is?
"Yes. More from reading and watching porn then real life experience. Each time I did it, just three times, the man came long before I was warmed up."
"Just proves you're a natural at oral sex. Those guys couldn't handle a woman with your talent."
"Not 'guys'. Same guy three times. Any wonder why I quit sixty-nining him?"
"Soon you'll know how a real man handles himself."
"Pretty cocky of you, bragging like that."
"How can I be? You always seem to be handling my cock."
This time she loved the sixty-nine. This man knew how to do it.
She could tell he was about to come. He obviously knew it too; his tongue was applying the final climatic swirl to her clit. She would have loved to let his shoot his load down her throat. Of course she would've gagged, but that would be OK. The experience would be worth the discomfort and this man would not let her feel embarrassed. Instead she needed, not just wanted, but needed that load of sperm shot deep within her, to the very core of her womanhood.
She started to turn around and climax, mouth to mouth and cock in cunt. He adroitly completed the move. This magnificent man kept his word, even during a moment like this.
The first pulse just started as he plunged his cock deep, deep inside her. Her insides felt the first squirt and trigger her orgasm. His was even more intense than all the others. She heard someone scream her husband's name, "David!" but that wasn't the only name she heard. A male voice sounded a plaintive "Connie!" It wasn't until the world settled down to the post coital glow of well being that she realized she had been the one who shouted "David." What was Connie? Did the man shout his woman's name? That stupid woman who let a man like this get away? Or more likely she had die recently and he still loved her. "Maybe," she thought, "I, in some way, remind him of her."
The she was asleep. She sort of woke up when she felt his hand brushing her upper leg and pussy. "You're leaking," he said, hold several tablespoons of semen in the palm of his hand. Yes, no doubt her tight vagina tunnel was overflowing with semen. She could smell it, on her groin area, on the bed, and then, as the man rubbed the handful of jism on her abdomen, on her own body.
Then the man did something strange. He pulled up her legs with his arms and was between them. He pulled his cock back from her slit and probed around her ass. "Want to do the back door? You gave me so much sperm, my front leaks. Might as well give me some in the back." She felt his cock slide into her butt. Lubricated it semen, there was no pain, on the strange feeling of in unusual entry. They were still face-to-face. "Thank you for doing it this way, not doggy style." It was an unusual sensation but nothing climatic. However the man seemed to enjoy it. Suddenly he spasmed. Only a little semen squirted, for he had given a more than normal load to he pussy already. But she heard him murmur pathetically, "Connie."
Was Connie an old girlfriend or his name for a fuck up the ass?
Soon they were back together, face to face, a now even softer cock tangled in her pubic hair.
He then took her in his arms, pressed his body against hers, and tummy-to-tummy rubbed their bodies together. He kissed her, tongue to tongue, and his diminished cock slid into slit, not into her hole. As their bodies slid back and forth, his cock, squeezed between their bodies and pushed up and down the slit as their bodies danced the ancient sexual rhythm. She pulled her head back a mite and said, "Beautiful. Our tongues are exploring each other's mouth, and now my erect clit ventures out of her hood to make love to your uncircumcised cock leaping out of its foreskin to make kiss to her. Beautiful."
Eventually they fell asleep, lips almost touching, and Behemoth, was glued in her slit by the drying semen. She could image a string of semen stretching the inch separating the shrinking cock from the retreating clit back into its cocoon.
They slept, their genitals bonded together.