A Beginning

“What would you say to a glass of wine, lonely lady?”

I sighed as I looked up from my book to see a stereotypical salesman standing in front of my table, a smug smile on his face.  I’d had a few approaches, but none quite as sleazy as this one, and I couldn’t help the sarcasm rising in my answer.

“Erm… feck off, glass?”

The man looked astonished and beat a hasty retreat, not understanding the humour in my flippant response, as once again I reflected on how I’d ended up sitting at that bar.  My work as a consultant involves travel to client sites, but ordinarily I would only spend one or two nights in a hotel.  I’d been seconded onto a project that I really didn’t want to be a part of, and it meant living away for over a month.  I was staying in a bland chain hotel, feeling bored and frustrated, and I realised the salesman, while sleazy, may have had a point: maybe I was lonely.  I am normally very sociable, out with friends all the time, and had been living in that hotel, eating in that restaurant, sitting reading in that bar all alone for almost a week.  I am not particularly attractive, but the hotel was full of commercial travellers who all tend to be men, so I stood out as a solitary female in a bar that was only one step away from being a meat market.  I sighed again, shook off my reverie and returned to my book, only to have another sales rep approach.

“I don’t think he was a Father Ted fan.  I am.  I’m Rick”

Before I had looked up from my book he had placed a drink in front of me and had sat down.  I looked at the drink, a whisky sour, the unfashionable, slightly kitsch drink I’d been ordering all week, and then lifted my head to look at the man who had joined me.

He was a man I had noticed the previous evening (which explained how he knew what I drank; I'd had to explain the drink to several bar staff since I'd been there), and I couldn’t help smiling as he extended his hand across the table to shake mine.  His hand was huge, warm and dry, and although I’m far from dainty my hand seemed tiny by comparison.

“Pleased to meet you Rick; I’m Sarah.  Thankyou for the drink”.  Rick was leaning back in his chair, a relaxed smile crinkling the crows feet at the corners of his eyes.  He was extremely tall and was dressed more casually than the suits who normally sat in the bar, but when I’d seen him before what I’d noticed about him was his grace, the way he moved.  There was a confidence that was almost arrogance about him, and I had planned to return to my book when he reached over and casually flicked the cover to see what I was reading: Generation Kill by Evan Wright.

“Interesting… did you read the original articles he published?”.

His voice was low and slightly rough, and I had to lean forward slightly to catch what he was saying.  I responded and we started chatting about books we’d read, films we’d seen, places we’d been.  I was almost disappointed when the waitress came to tell me my table was ready, and as I stood I heard myself invite Rick to join me.  As we walked into the restaurant we attracted a few glances from the staff, who had seen me keeping myself cut off from everyone for the week I’d been there.  I blushed, slightly embarrassed at what they would think, but was quickly distracted when we ordered and started chatting again.

I am fairly intelligent, but Rick could more than match me.  I could see that he was controlling the conversation, but it was fairly subtle and he was so witty and entertaining that I didn’t mind too much.  We split a bottle of wine with the meal and I found myself opening up more than normal with both the wine and the pleasure of the unexpected company.

After we finished the meal we continued to chat, and I didn’t notice the time passing until I looked up to find we were the only people left in the restaurant.  Rick offered to walk me back to the hotel, which made me laugh as it was about five steps away.  His room was on the ground floor where mine was on the first, and as we approached his room he leaned down and gently kissed me.

It doesn't sound like much, but I had been completely celibate for over a decade and I was feeling more reckless than normal.  The kiss deepened and he held my face in his hands as he kissed me, gently licking the inside of my lips, feeling my teeth with the tip of his tongue, nipping at my lips with his teeth, before inviting me into his room. I astonished myself by accepting, knowing even as I stepped through the door that we'd have sex. 

As he closed the door behind me he took off my top, and bent his head to nuzzle at the top of my breasts in my bra, his slight stubble scratching the soft skin.  He unfastened my sensible black trousers and let them fall to the floor, before falling to his knees, leaning in and breathing the scent of my sex, smelling my obvious arousal.  As he sat back on his heels he looked up at me with a smile, knowing how aroused I was and enjoying the power he had over my body.

He tugged my cotton knickers down and lifted my feet out of the mess of clothing, positioning them so my thighs were slightly parted.  He then took the middle finger of his right hand and slowly, gently parted my folds, running the finger along the whole length of my cleft.  Lifting the wet finger to his nose he inhaled deeply, before licking my juices off the tip, murmuring “so wet… so hot for me”.

He pushed me back so I was sitting on the edge of the bed, then reached around to undo my bra, letting my breasts fall, the cool air making the skin tighten and the nipples pucker into hardness.  He ran his hands up my back, across my shoulders and my collar-bone before he ran them around my breasts, cupping and lifting them.  He knelt between my legs and put his mouth first to one nipple, then the other.  As he moved between my breasts the cool air and the intoxication of my arousal made me shiver, which made him smile in satisfaction.

He pushed my shoulders back onto the bed, and I expected to feel his hot breath at my entrance.  Instead he ground the palm of his hand over my mound, rubbing my clit.  The exquisite sensation made me moan aloud with pleasure.  He pushed first one and then two fingers into me, hooking the fingertips so they brushed my most sensitive spots, making me writhe.

All this time I was lying naked on the bed, while he was fully clothed.  As he stood up to take his clothes off, he told me to move back on the bed, lie on it properly.  His voice was husky, hoarse with need, and this was the first sign I’d had that he was feeling the heat.  In the dim light of the bedside lamp I could see the darkness of his hair, the thick matting of chest hair, narrowing into a thin line leading from his navel to his groin.

As clichéd as it is, I couldn’t help gasping when I saw his cock for the first time.  He had been so leisurely, so unhurried, that I assumed he wasn’t as turned on as I was.  The sight of his cock, veins in sharp relief, balls pulled up tight, head swollen and purple, with precum already visible round the tip, took my breath away.  As he took the condom out of his pants pocket I wanted to ask whether I could put it on him, but I was too nervous and I just watched as he rolled it down his shaft.

He moved up the bed in his graceful way, until he was resting between my legs, hands either side of my head as he kissed my breasts.  I reached down to touch him, and he laughed, saying “no…”.  He held my hands and moved them above my head as he kissed my breasts, rocking his hips against me until I was moving back against him.

He then put both my wrists into one hand, moving the other one down my body to rub my hot, slick lips, opening me ready for him, then positioning his blunt head at my entrance and slowly, so slowly, sliding home.  It had been such a long time since I had felt full, I moved under him and ground my hips to feel his length press against me in all directions.

He leaned down and kissed me deeply, thrusting his tongue into my mouth as he was thrusting his cock into my core.  He was thrusting hard and fast when he suddenly slowed down, pulling his body off mine so I could see his cock slipping out of me, thickly coated in my juices, glistening and looking painfully swollen.  “See what you do to me”, he whispered as he pushed back into me, swinging his hips and pounding into me, savage in his excitement.

I could feel my pleasure build, the sensation building in the pit of my stomach, and I jolted when he started groaning at me.  “That’s it baby, feel it, feel me… let yourself go… let me feel you come on my cock…”.  I’ve always found dirty talk arousing and I couldn’t hold back as the sensation rushed over me, leaving me shaking, panting and moaning as he sped up and thrust roughly into me.

I could feel his cock jerk as he pushed as deep as he could and came, grabbing my hips and pulling me to him, trying to bury himself in my body, throwing his head back and roaring.  It was sensational sex, epic sex, and the aftershocks made my body spasm for long minutes after we had fallen apart.

As we recovered he moved up the bed and pressed his shaft to my mouth.  “Lick it clean for me”.  I pushed my tongue out and tentatively touched his wet cock with the tip of it.  I could taste the combination of the condom and his seed, and I licked more firmly before taking his head into my mouth, running my tongue over it.

Rick moaned and pushed his hands into my hair, gently humping against my mouth as I sucked on his cock.  I felt it start to twitch as it slowly began to harden, and he started to laugh. “Oh god, you’re so good at this.  Just keep doing that baby, don’t stop”.  I had no intention of stopping, I was enjoying it far too much, and I felt the beginning of my arousal stir deep within me once more.  As his cock hardened his grip on my head grew tighter, his movements grew rougher, until he was trying to bury the entire length of his thick shaft in my mouth as he came.

The following night I walked into the restaurant and Rick was already there.  He motioned for me to join him, so I did. There was no real pretence from there in, we both knew I'd be in his bed that night. The next night we met in the bar and went into dinner together, and that's how it continued the whole time he was there.

The sex got steadily more interesting as time went on.  From holding my hands he asked me to grip the headboard and hold myself in place, and I did it. One night he told me I wasn't to touch him at all, and again I obeyed. He made me ask for his cock, made me tell him exactly what I wanted him to do in great detail. I've never been verbal during sex (though I’m extremely noisy), and found that liberating.  He liked to talk all the way through, whispering obscene comments and lewd suggestions, and I found it really turned me on. One night he was taking me from behind and he leaned over me and started whispering in my ear that I wasn't to come until I'd begged for it and he'd given me permission.  I found the whole thing so incredibly erotic, the insidious whispering of his mouth next to my ear, the idea of having to say the words, let alone having the request denied. I was shaking and more desperate to come than I can ever remember.

When I couldn't hold it any more he pulled out and turned me onto my back, lying at my side and running his hand over my body as I cooled down. I was dying to rub my clit and give myself an orgasm, but by this point I had become used to following his wishes.  Once I'd cooled down enough he started again, this time lying on top of me so he could look into my face and watch me desperately trying not to come before he allowed it. He had spread my legs wide and was dragging his shaft across my clit with every stroke, his hands playing with my nipples.

He bent his head down and I thought he would kiss me, but as I parted my lips he whispered into my mouth “you’re such a good girl, such a hot fuck, aren’t you?  Do you want to come?  Do you need it?  Are you desperate yet?”.  I started moaning and knew I couldn't hold it much more.  I started begging, a stream of incomprehensible nonsense, almost crying, desperate with need.  I was shaking by the time I heard the welcome words “yes baby, let me feel it, give yourself up and come for me”, and as he said the words it was as though his words created the orgasm; I've never felt anything quite like it. I was embarrassed at the intensity of my orgasm, the grunts that were coming from me as I hunched under him.  I wrapped my legs around him and tried to drag him even further into me as the friction of his cock against my sensitive clit drove me even higher, until I was shouting in pleasure.  As my cunt spasmed around him he pushed himself onto his knees and started to pound into me hard and fast, before pulling out, tearing off the condom and wrapping his hand round his cock, jerking back and forth, his face screwed up in ecstasy.  He started to grunt as his hips moved against his hand and he started to come, spraying jet after jet of his come onto my stomach, my breasts and my face, the warmth of it startling against my skin.

After a decade of dormancy my libido was at last alive and well.