 |
By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
|
Tonight wasn’t our first meeting but still my heart was pounding as I stood beside Julie in the hotel lift, trying to look calm and unconcerned in the awkward silence we were sharing with the two sales reps talking away in front of us. I wanted to take her hand but she was slightly out of reach and one of the reps was slightly between us. I glanced across at her, studiously avoiding my gaze but I could see the pendant resting on her cleavage vibrating in time with her heartbeat.
Our first meet had been a month ago. We’d swapped a couple of messages on Fab and set up a social meet in a town centre café, nice and public but quiet enough to talk. After the nervous “Hellos” we’d started to chat – at first about Fabswingers and then more widely. Like me, she was married and in a rut. My wife had lost interest in sex years ago when she first took ill. In life there are two types of people – givers and takers; she was a taker and I had enjoyed pleasing her in bed but when her illness made sex painful and uncomfortable, she just stopped wanting sex. She’d never been that interested in my needs in the first place so I was left hanging. That was 12 years ago. Julie’s story was different. She’d discovered her husband having an affair three years ago and understandably hit the roof. It had soured their marriage and the first few months after, when she couldn’t bear for him to touch her, had just continued so that even though she wanted and needed a man’s touch he wasn’t interested. She suspected he was having more affairs but just didn’t care any more. She wouldn’t leave him – kids, financial security and so on but she just needed to be loved, physically.
All this came out over a number of coffees as we relaxed and chatted easily, all the years of holding things back just led to a sense of relief for both of us. Before we knew it she had to go but we promised to meet up again.
I’d wondered if I’d hear from her again. She was an attractive woman, mid 40s, with the softer figure of middle age. Her green eyes sparkled as she talked and I had found myself fantasising about her figure beneath the quite conservative jeans and sweater she had worn. I returned to my hotel and opened up the laptop to find she’d messaged me on Fab. Even better, although she had no pics on her profile, she’d sent me some with her message. Wow! They looked like they were taken in a bathroom and she was wearing a succession of sexy underwear sets and basques. I found myself getting rock hard at the sight and quickly undressed and got on the hotel bed to enjoy them fully and read her message. She said she’d enjoyed the social and appreciated that I hadn’t tried to pressure her but that she’d been horny as hell all the time. Driving home, she’d pulled into a layby to relieve the tension, unbuttoning her jeans and quickly “rubbing one out” as she put it. This turned me on even more and I began stroking my cock over her pics, closing my eyes and remembering her voice her smile, imagining our first kiss, unclasping her bra to release those heavy breasts, slipping a finger between her moist lips to find her hot hole …. I came, like a teenager, spurt after spurt shooting from my cock and over the laptop, splashing over a picture of Julie in a black and red basque, one globule of cum sliding into the cleavage on the screen.
When my heart stopped pounding, I took a pic of her cum-drenched picture and sent it to her. Minutes later she replied “Oh that’s dirty! We have to meet again”
Which is why we were now standing in a lift at a hotel a few miles from her home, on our way to my room. The lift doors opened, “Our floor I think” and the reps stood aside for us to get out. As we headed for the room and the lift doors closed behind us, I heard one of them say “Lucky guy, I’d fuck her all night lo…”. Julie and I looked at each other and laughed. I unlocked the room door with the passkey and opened it for her.
“Ladies first, prepare to be fucked all night long”
As the door clicked behind us, we were alone at last.
|
yes pls
