A short night with M

After I mentioned that my last meeting with M had been disappointing and unexciting, I’ve received several messages asking what happened and why wasn’t I posting the details.

So . . .

I’d actually been quite looking forward to being with M as we hadn’t seen each other since before Christmas. We arranged to meet in our usual bar at 7 p.m. and I was feeling excited and tingly. He said he had a room booked nearby and asked if I could stay all night. I’d told him that wouldn’t be possible, but that it would be good just to spend some time with each other.

I’d changed in the office before I left, into a tight top and replaced my “work” undies with a lacy red bra and waistband knickers. I’d had my hair re-styled at the weekend, and I felt good in myself and confident that he was going to be impressed by my entrance.

I walked up to him at the bar and kissed him immediately, but he made no mention of my new hair, nor did he welcome me with his usual burst of comments and compliments. He told me he’d been at a sales meeting all day, and as he was ordering new drinks it was obvious he’d already had quite a bit to drink.

He was telling me how much he’d missed seeing me and how I’d let him down by cancelling just before New Year. I had to push his hands away from my legs as we sat at the bar as I was now feeling more embarrassed rather than excited. I became even further annoyed when he told me that some of his sales executives colleagues who were from out-of-town were staying at the same hotel that he’d booked a room at. They’d come into London for the meeting and were staying over night. I told him he could forget about it if he thought I was going to join him and his friends drinking in the bar of the hotel, and that he should just go and join them and I would go home. He was suddenly, very apologetic and said he hadn’t meant to suggest that we would be joining them in the bar, just that he had booked the same hotel so that his partner would realise it was part of the sales conference, and would therefore not be expecting him home. He said we could go straight into the lifts and straight up to the room.

I insisted that I needed to eat first so we went for a pasta. I calmed down as we ate and he became more of his usual bubbly self . . . we were soon at the hotel and safely in our room without bumping into any of his work colleagues. I must admit that it did make me feel a little aroused as we stood in the lift, that someone he knew could have easily stepped in with us, and what would he have said if they had?

M was all over me as soon as we’d walked through the door, but I told him we both had to shower. He did love my underwear and he was now telling all the things I love hearing . . . and I was now feeling much more in the mood as I had been getting changed back at my office.

He showered quickly and then as I stepped out of the shower he wrapped me in the towel and started kissing and squeezing me wildly. I love hearing all his compliments and I was feeling quite tingly as he knelt down on the floor kissing and licking at my pussy. He wanted to kiss my bottom, so I leant forward against the sink as he kissed my cheeks and then started sliding his tongue up and down and round to my pussy again as I opened my legs wider. He stood up and I was able to reach down between my legs to hold his willy and then slide it back and forth against my clit. I guided him into my pussy and then began to feel even more aroused as I looked up at myself in the mirror. I was straining forward with my face almost right against the mirror and my hands on either side of the sink. I could see my boobs bouncing forward with each thrust as he stroked back and forth into me. I was getting more and more horny and loved seeing my nipples hard and rippling up and down as he was getting quite carried away and pumping faster and faster into me. He had his hands on my hips and in the mirror I could see his eyes closed and his mouth open and hear his grunts as he pushed back and forth. M does like pumping like this and normally I don’t actually find it as stimulating as he does, but now watching it like this, I was feeling closer and closer to coming. But before I could concentrate quite enough I could hear him gasping louder and louder and I knew he was going to burst. I tried to pull away and told him to “come out please”. He was holding me quite tightly but did pull away and then I felt him splashing over my bum cheeks and onto the small of my back. He was groaning loudly and then shaking his head back and forth. I reached over and pulled some paper off the toilet roll and asked him to “clean me up please”.

We made our way into the main room and under the bed covers. He actually got in first so I had to slide in behind him and cuddle up to his back. We hardly said anything and within just a few minutes he was snoring. I lay for quite a while knowing I had often fallen asleep in similar circumstances . . . but I tried stroking his arm and hips in the hope he might stir. I thought about closing my eyes and trying to doze as well, but I wasn’t actually sleepy and I selfishly wanted more attention. After what seemed like quite a long time I changed my stroking into more of a shaking, but he still wouldn’t wake, so my feelings slowly vanished and I felt myself thinking that it was probably not worth doing anything other than going home.

I lay for at least another half hour before I eventually did get up and find my bag and watch. It wasn’t even 10 o’clock . . . and he was still quietly snoring. I got dressed completely and sat back down on the bed and had to shake him awake. He rolled over and I could tell his apologies were genuine as he pleaded with me to come back to bed, and that I could stay all night and that it would be wonderful to have breakfast together. But I reminded him that I’d never agreed to that, and that anyway I did have to be getting home. He said he’d get up and come downstairs with me to get me a cab, but I was now more worried rather than excited about the possibility that we may bump into some of his colleagues, so I told him he had to stay in bed and I would make my own way down to the street. I texted J from the cab that I was on my way and the texted back straight-away to say that the kids were still up. I replied “well get them to bed!”

When I got in though, my son was still parked in the front room in front of the TV. I was making eyes to J and telling my son that he had school in the morning . . . only to be shouted at that it was still early and his programme had half-an-hour yet. I retreated to the kitchen, followed by J, and we stood whispering my reasons for my early return. It was a long half hour before we eventually got up to our bedroom and I was desperate for attention and grateful for J’s lovely tongue and kisses.