Part Two . . . it Never Rains, but it Pours
S called on my way into work on Thursday morning . . . we almost always chat the morning after an “evening” together as I travel into the office on the bus. I’d reassured him that I really had enjoyed our time together and we agreed to try and arrange another night within the next fortnight. We’d just said our goodbyes and I’d slipped my phone back into my handbag when it rang again. It was V . . . he was back in town, just for two days, and wanted to meet-up that evening “to make up for cancelling last time”.
I told him I hadn’t expected him to be back in London for another month and couldn’t just drop everything at such short notice. I was annoyed at him, and annoyed at myself at the same time, because I knew I wanted to see him. I told him I’d think about it and he should call me again at the office after lunch.
I was tingling for the rest of my journey . . . knowing that J was looking forward to “an early night” after my evening with S the night before. (We always have wonderfully passionate times in the days immediately following one of my evenings). I’d already changed my mind several times over by the time I got to the office. I was annoyed that V thought he could just call on such short notice, annoyed because I hadn’t dressed in anything other than my normal work outfit, annoyed because I knew J would be upset, (even if he said he wouldn’t be), annoyed because . . . well . . . annoyed because I knew I wanted it, wanted to see him, annoyed because it may be the only opportunity for another few months.
He called mid-morning. Would I like to do lunch instead? “No, I don’t want lunch”, I told him. “What do you want then?” he asked . . . I paused and then angrily repeated into the phone, “I just don’t want lunch!”. I hated feeling myself giving in, I didn’t want him to think he could just call me up on a whim, whenever he wanted it, not caring to give me a few days warning. There was a long, long pause, and then a nervous laugh . . . His apartment was still being used. I seized the moment of having the upper hand “well, you’ll have to book me a room then, won’t you, if you really want to see me!” He said he’d call back in a few minutes.
And he did . . . and, as always, never doing anything in short measure . . . it was a very exclusive, very expensive hotel. I told him I hadn’t even asked J if it was alright yet. “Where shall we have dinner?” he said. “I don’t want dinner” I nervously hissed back. “Don’t you want to see me?” he asked. “Yes . . . Yes, I do” I found myself answering.
J’s voice betrayed his initial annoyance when I called him. He quickly changed his tone though and said “twice in two nights, go for it.” I told him I wouldn’t go if he really didn’t want me to, but he said that of course he wanted me to go, “just text when you’re on your way home” he said.
V insisted on picking me up from the office in a cab. He got out to open the door for me, kissed me warmly and sat next to me squeezing my hand as he leant forward to give the driver the address. I felt excited to be sitting there knowing the cabbie could probably hear our conversation as V asked me if I was sure I didn’t want to eat first. “We can order room service”, I answered.
The room was wonderful . . . and the bathroom just lovely. I told him I would like to run a bath and just soak. He joined me, as I undressed, and started reading from the room service menu. I told him I really wasn’t hungry and actually much preferred wine to champagne, but it seemed silly not to indulge just a little in such an expensive hotel. V remained clothed, waiting for our “snacks” to arrive, but sat on the edge of the bath as I lounged and he started telling me how his new venture in the City was going (the reason that his apartment was occupied and probably would remain so for the forseeable future).
The trolley arrived and V brought in two lovely large stem glasses. I told him he should undress and get in with me as there was certainly enough room. (I remembered with a tingle, the much, much more compact shower I’d shared with S the previous night!). V returned from the main room, now completely naked, with a tray of au dourves. He really has a nice figure for his age and I was envious of his flat tummy as he sat back down on the edge of the bath and started to feed me from the platter. I told him I felt completely decadent and spoiled, lounging in a heavily scented bubble bath, sipping champagne and being fed by “a naked waiter”. “Have you forgiven me then?” he asked. I wasn’t sure if he meant forgiven for cancelling our last planned meeting at such short notice . . . or forgiven him for arranging this meeting at such short notice. “No, not yet!” I teased. “Can you turn round and face me please, I don’t like talking to your back and shoulder”. He lifted his legs round into the bath, putting his glass down on the corner and leant forward again to feed me another mouthful from the platter. I liked looking at the plumpness of his willy sitting on top of his sacs, and I remembered how I’d once described it to J as being “like a big slug when it’s limp”. I tingled at the memory of how much he’d enjoyed my descriptions of the rest of V’s body. I was getting quite carried away . . . the champagne, the warmth of the bubbles, the situation I was in, and the fact that his “slug” was growing and beginning to lift upwards.
I pushed the tray away and told him to “come in with me”. He slid in with his legs either side of mine and then we both slid ourselves forwards, lifting our knees up so we could kiss. We fed each other sips from each others glass and laughed as our kisses became swapping spurts of champagne, and my glass quickly seemed to empty. “I’ll forgive you if you get up to get me some more!” I told him. He looked lovely as he returned with the bottle, water and soap bubbles dripping off him onto the marble floor. . . and his willy, much firmer now, bobbing and swaying as he got back into the bath. He told me how much he’d missed my company, and my language, and how our Sunday afternoon and trip to the airport at our last meeting had been the “most exciting few hours of my life”. I told him I was sure he was exaggerating . . . but I loved hearing it all the same and I could feel myself feeling more and more aroused.
“I want to get out now” I said, and stood up in front of him. He continued sitting for a moment, leaning back and telling me “what a wonderful view” . . . he stood up as well, kissing my tummy and each breast and then my neck and cheek. We squeezed together in an engulfing embrace and I could feel his erection sliding over my tummy. We got out and dried each other with the wonderfully fresh huge white towels hanging on the rack. I deliberately lingered with the drying of his willy . . . and then dropped down in front of him to slide my mouth over him. I could hear him gasping as I sucked up and down and then up again, letting it pop out of my mouth and then licking down its length with my tongue before sliding my mouth down completely over him again. It felt thick and warm in my mouth, and I knelt down more on the mat now so that I could reach up and gently cup his sacs in my hands. He doesn’t like me squeezing them, but even when he’s erect they always seem quite heavy and I love the feeling of holding them at the same time. He had a hand on each of my shoulders and was just standing whilst I rocked back and forth with my mouth. I ran my hands round behind him now, stroking up his legs and then holding his bottom, pulling him forward to meet the rhythm of my sucking. He pulled away though and leant down to lift me up. “Lets try the bedroom” he said.
It was wonderfully comfortable as he lay me backwards onto the bed and then gently pushed my legs apart and knelt between me. “Now it is your turn” he said, and started leaning forward to lick at me. “God you taste so sweet” he told me. I remembered S telling me the same thing the night before and it made me tingle even more. He lifted up to slide up my tummy to start on my nipples. They felt like they were going to burst. “Suck them harder” I whispered. I felt his willy bump against my lips and scrape over me as he lifted further up to start on my other nipple. I reached down between our tummies to try to push it back down towards my pussy. He lifted up off the bed slightly so that I could hold it and then guide it in. I slid my other hand down between us, opening my lips more. My clit felt as hard as my nipples. I was gasping and loving it as he continued sucking and I felt him pushing into me. “Fuck me” I told him. His pushes began to get more rhythmic, but he still seemed more interested in my nipples. I could hear myself moaning and urging him “more”.
As he lifted up onto his elbows, I reached down to slide him out and then turned over onto my knees. I didn’t say anything, but I was feeling really aroused and as he pushed forward I felt myself pushing my pussy straight back over him. He had his hands on my hips at first as he started stroking back and forth, but I reached back to pull his right hand up under my tummy back to my breast. “Squeeze” I was gasping to him. I re-balanced myself and then reached back with my left hand to guide his other hand away from my tummy and down to my lips instead. I could hear my moaning getting louder, “clitty, clitty” as his fingers rubbed round and round my lips and his other hand was squeezing from one nipple to the other. I came with huge gasps, falling forward onto my tummy and pushing his hand away from underneath me as I pulled my knees up in my foetal position as I rocked myself still. I could hear his breathing quite loud and opened my eyes to see him kneeling next to me holding his erection and his stomach muscles straining in time with his deep breaths. I pulled my hand from under my knees and reached out to stroke him. He leant back slightly with his hands on his hips. “Come on” I urged him as I stroked more quickly. At first I thought my stroking was going to be in vain, but then I could see his knees flexing and his tummy tightening and he burst with almost whispered gasps (in contrast to my much louder groaning minutes earlier). It splashed over my hips and legs, and down onto the sheets. Lots and lots of it. I still wanted just to lie still, continuing my recovery, but he got up immediately to find a towel and wipe my legs and then the bed. I was giggling at his concern, “I’m sure even here they’re used to stains on the bed linen”. “Especially here” he agreed.
He returned to the bed with more nibbles, and more champagne. I told him it was quite bizarre having a picnic on the bed sheets in such an exclusive hotel. We chatted about business and my problems at the office. He offered advice and suggestions and lots more questions than I had answers for. The champagne was soon finished and he said he’d call up for more, but I told him I couldn’t drink any more champagne. “Wine then” he said. I found myself agreeing . . . and feeling naughty and decadent again as I lounged back on the bed and watched him searching for a robe as he started to unpack his suitcase and hang things up in the wardrobe. I’ve never seen anyone so unconcerned about being naked. If it had been me, or J, and certainly S, I knew we’d all at least have wrapped a towel around ourselves. It was lovely.
“You know I can’t stay.” I told him. I knew he was staying overnight, but suddenly thought he was assuming I could as well. He nodded. Then pulled on a robe to answer the door.
We sat together in bed, talking more and playing with kissing each other with wine kisses. He kept trying to play with my breasts again, but I had to push his fingers away telling him they were too sensitive now. But he eventually caught me off guard and leant forward to slurp a mouthful of wine onto my nipple. The sensation was gasping and I just lay backwards and let him repeat the dribbling onto my other breast. He worked from breast to breast and the tingling was making me suddenly really really aroused again, they felt bursting hard but were still sensitive. I lifted up and slid up over onto his chest. I loved the look on his face as I slid myself forwards on him, lifting my pussy up over his chin and dropping it down onto his mouth. I was lifting up to make his tongue follow me upwards and then rotating my hips back slightly to trail his tongue around between my cheeks. “God you are smooth everywhere” he gasped out as I swivelled back and forth. “Mmm, I really like that” I told him. Finally he was letting me direct his tongue to my bottom. I swivelled it back to my lips again and then back to my bottom. He’d always pulled away from there before, now he was keeping his tongue there. Hard and pushing. I could actually feel it inside as I pushed down on it, then lifted up and round to my lips again. “Oh, not just my clitty” I told him as I felt his tongue flicking faster and settling there. I didn’t want it just there, I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to stop now that he’d started. I swivelled back, his tongue followed and pushed again. “Fucking love that” I groaned and pushed down on him. He was mumbling and pulled away, I swivelled forwards again hoping my gasps wouldn’t show my disappointment. “Do you really like it there?” he said. “Sometimes” I replied. “Do you do it there?” he asked. “Sometimes” I gasped back. Swivelling backwards again. His tongue followed . . . and stayed. I pushed against it, felt it in again. I was swooning, thinking that I couldn’t possibly take his cock there, he was too thick, even with gel, I wouldn’t be able to.
This time I came with a long shuddering groan, knowing I was swearing and gasping as I rubbed, quite violently, all of me over his face and chin. I fell forward off him and rolled onto the pillow. Gasping and swearing more as he held me by my ankles. He pulled me away from the headboard, I was still shaking and shuddering. “Does it always make you like that?” his question was almost one of concern rather than curiousity. I couldn’t tell him it had been more from the thoughts I’d been having, rather than the physical proximity of his tongue and his licking. I just managed to gasp out another “Sometimes” answer before I buried my face into the pillow. It was nice to feel him sliding up besides me and cuddling his arm across my back.
We lay without speaking for sometime until I suddenly felt an aching cramp in my leg. I was writhing and trying to stretch out my leg. “Cramp, can you massage it” I was swinging the leg around, trying to straighten it and ease the pain. He sat up and started working on it. Immediately I felt it working and the soothing feeling of the muscles not pulling in all the wrong directions. I looked down at him massaging my calf and could see his erection dangling wonderfully on an angle as he knelt beside me. “It’s ok now, it’s gone, it’s fine” I said as I slid down the bed, grasping his willy and rolling him over onto his back. He was asking “Are you sure”. I had to nod my assurances . . . I was already sucking down on him. The angle was just right. I could lift my mouth up and curl my fingers around him pushing down again with my mouth and look down past my knuckles at his sacs bulging as I pushed his cock down onto them. He quickly relaxed and let me snuggle more against his side and continue my stroking and sucking. I could hear his breathing getting quicker as I increased the pace, and then little gasps as I slowed, teasing him by lifting away slightly, grasping him with both hands and licking around and around his head with my tongue. Then sucking over him again, my mouth pushing first one hand, then the other, away as I sucked hard down onto him. His hips began bucking, slowly at first, then pumping up against my hand faster and stronger. I lifted my mouth away, resting my cheek on his tummy and stroking with both hands wrapped around him. The spurts shot out in little bursts at first and then as his thrusts upwards with his hips slowed, turned to a dribble of white running out and down over my fingers. I released my grip and leant forwards to kiss his balls and then sat up and rubbed my hand over him, rubbing it over his sacs and then up to rub it over my nipples. He looked at me grinning and shaking his head. I laughed and told him “I love it on my boobies, it’s good moistening cream”.
We stretched out alongside each other again. “I’ll have to be going home soon” I told him. He nodded, but then started asking me about my “admission”. I didn’t know what he meant at first, but then told him off that “it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, lots of people do it!” I told him I couldn’t believe he’d never done it. But he was insistent that he’d never tried, or never had a woman saying they wanted it. He wanted to know more than I wanted to tell him, becoming frustrated with my answers of just “sometimes”. It was past midnight, well past midnight. I’d long since turned my phone alarm off. I insisted he really had to let me get up and get dressed and that I had to get home. “Perhaps we can talk about it more next time!”.
V arranged for a taxi and then got dressed as well and accompanied me down to the foyer when it arrived. I felt quite naughty again kissing him goodbye as he opened the door to the taxi. I texted J as we drove round Hyde Park Corner. “Hope you’re waiting up for me”. His reply came through almost immediately, “with wine and ???”. It made me giggle and I texted back “Twice in two nights. Do you mind me being so naughty?”
Labels: affairs, erotic, extra-marital, fling, fun, infidelity, Love, lover, sex, woman, wonderful

