The Hotel Meeting

by Priapus

Copyright© 2012 by Priapus

Erotica Sex Story: A married couple decides to try a new type of adventure, setting up a meeting with a mysterious stranger in a distant city.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Wife Watching   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   .

After weeks of discussion, decisions, indecisions and re-decisions, I make the plan we have carefully agreed. I have arranged for us to meet a man, known only through internet contact and careful, referenced selection, at the downtown Toronto hotel where we had long ago planned to take our vacation as a couple.

We go to the bar to meet him on the first night of our stay. When we get to the lobby, you and I split up, and enter the bar separately, so that no one knows we're together. You are dressed in a short black leather skirt, a white silk blouse, stiletto heeled pumps, thigh high black stockings, white silk panties and matching sheer, white demi-cup bra. You are also wearing an expensive and stylish red leather jacket, as a sign for our anonymous partner to recognize you. If everything goes well, it will be a night of fantasy fulfillment for the three of us. We've all agreed that if any one of us decides that the situation isn't right, we can call it off, and no hard feelings. I've decided that if either of you call it off, I plan to take you back to our room and spend the rest of the night ravishing your sweet body.

I'm in a dark business suit, as is the man we are here to meet. He is drinking a Scotch at the bar when you arrive, and he raises his glass to you as you approach, the pre-planned signal. You sit next to him and introduce yourself, as Lexus, confirming your identity. The gentleman introduces himself as Constantine, confirming that he was the man we were seeking.

He is older, probably in his mid-fifties. Distinguished, tall and well-built, he has a full head of dark hair, trimmed in a classic short style, tinged liberally with gray. He looks a lot like Anderson Cooper, a bit older, but his hair less gray. His voice has an English Canadian accent.

He is well groomed and fit, a man of some significant position in a local corporation. In our exchanges it was important to him that we not be local to Toronto. He needed to make sure that his business and pleasure were separate.

I take a seat in a booth behind you to get situated to watch. The two of you get to know each other. He buys you a drink, then later, another. As you talk, you each become more familiar. You touch his arm as you laugh at one of his jokes. He reaches up to gently brush your long blonde hair away from your eyes. You reward one of his compliments with a kiss on the cheek. You both continue to flirt and talk for a half an hour, maybe more. It doesn't look like either of you are going to call it off, the churning in my gut is more excitement than jealousy, I decide, so I won't be calling it off either.

Finally, he becomes a bit bolder. He rests his hand on your knee, caressing you with his fingers as you talk. He leans forward to whisper something to you, and tenderly kisses your ear, nibbles your earlobe, and lets his lips trail down your neck to your shoulder. His hand inches up your leg to the lacy top of your stockings, and you thrill to the touch of his gentle fingers on your bare flesh.

You kiss, tentatively at first, and part. Then after exchanging knowing glances, your lips meet again in a more exploratory exchange, tongues searching for and finding the heat of passion. You are attracting attention, and not just from me. Blushing slightly, the two of you go no further in the bar, but the unspoken agreement has been reached. You are mutually in lust, and it's time to take the encounter to the next level.

He stands up, and graciously helps you to your feet, and holds your jacket as you slip it back on. He hands you his room key and whispers the number, and you both walk to the elevator lobby together.

I trail behind, but not so far that I miss the chance to board the same elevator that you both do. We are crowded together along with six Japanese men in business suits, clearly travelling as part of a group here in our hotel.

You and he are at the back of the elevator. I am at the front. The men between us are talking enthusiastically in Japanese, and they are almost obscuring my covert view of you, in the reflection of the mirrored elevator doors. I can still make out what is happening. Of course, so can they. As we begin our ascent of the many floors to his penthouse room, he becomes far bolder with this beautiful blonde woman he just met.

First he kisses your neck, then he works his way up to your luscious red lips. As you embrace again in a passionate kiss, his hands run down your back to your firm, round behind, and he presses your hand against him so that you can feel the hardness in his pants. The men have noticed, and their conversation becomes more subdued now. They may have changed topics to the exhibition of passion behind them, but I don't understand Japanese.

Constantine slides one hand up your side, under your blouse, and gives your breast a gentle squeeze while pinching your nipple through the sheer fabric of the bra. You moan softly. I am fully erect at this point, as, I am sure, are many of our elevator companions.

Each man has pressed a different high floor before ours. At first, they watch discreetly, as if they don't want you to take notice of their attentions. The two of you—meanwhile—are acting as though you are alone, and taking full exhibitionistic advantage of the delayed progress to our floor.

As the first man gets off the elevator, Constantine is still fondling your breasts with one hand, and the two of you are kissing passionately. He steps off the elevator backward, peering past his companions as the doors bring an end to the show.

As the second man steps out, your new lover is again kissing your neck, and now he begins unbuttoning your white silk blouse. His other hand is under your short skirt, fondling your ass through the silky panties.

By the time the third man bids his associates goodbye, our new friend has your blouse fully unbuttoned, and you have shrugged off your jacket onto the elevator floor. He is kissing your breasts above the fabric of the demi-cup bra, having pulled your nipples up to expose them over the edge of the sheer white fabric.

As the fourth man exits the elevator, you have reached down to fondle Constantine through the fabric of his finely tailored suit pants. It is apparent to you that he is wearing boxers, since his hard cock and heavy balls are relatively unconstrained beneath the silk slacks. He is again kissing and nibbling your ear, and has slipped his hands into the waistband of your panties from the back, passionately kneading your round ass cheeks.

The man in the doorways delays and delays, unwilling to walk away from the erotic performance the two of you are putting on. He and two friends still on the elevator have dropped the pretense of last minute conversations, and are now openly staring at the two of you.

Every time the elevator door begins to close, the fourth man blocks it open again. Still feigning obliviousness to their attentions, you decide to turn up the heat even more, deftly unzipping your paramour's slacks and slipping one delicate hand inside to get a better grip on the rising tension. Finally the elevator itself intervenes in the fourth man's protracted departure, and buzzes in warning as he tries to block the doors open again. When he removes himself from their path, they close fully, and the elevator begins to move again.

By the time the elevator has ascended to the fifth man's floor, Constantine has again worked his lips down your neck to your breasts. But this time he refuses to stop at the bra, and reaches up to entirely free the firm breast closest to us from its silky confines. He cups it in one hand, the other still occupied down the back of your panties, and holds the erect nipple up to his hot mouth, first licking it gently, then firmly sucking it.

You can no longer reach his open fly with him bent down in front of you, and it is just as well, since his oral attentions have weakened your knees and you need both hands to brace yourself against the railings to stop from swooning. The two remaining Japanese businessmen are no longer content to watch the show in the mirrored elevator doors, and have turned to face you. They both have their hands plunged into their pants pockets and are fondling themselves in appreciation of your performance. When the door opens for the fifth man, he slowly backs into the doorway, vigorously working his hand in his pocket. As he steps fully out of the doorway into the hallway, and the doors begin to close, he succumbs to the intensity of the vision, and trembles in quiet orgasm, bowing in appreciation.

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