Choosing Her Lover

Chapter 3

And so, not for the first time, I enter a stranger’s hotel room. This is where I find out if he’s really what he appears to be.

A nervous tingle runs down my spine, the doubt of the unknown; the knowledge that, just possibly, I have misjudged and this man is…. a crackpot, a loony, a weirdo….

And of course, the doubt is part of the thrill….

“When did you book this room?” I ask.

“I’m staying here anyway. I wasn’t making assumptions. As I told you, I travel for my work and I use this hotel regularly.”

“Ah….”

He hangs his jacket neatly over a chair, then dims the lights

“Would you actually like some coffee? Or would you prefer wine?” he asks. “It’s always a little embarrassing, isn’t it? The first time with someone. So, just in case…. I got a bottle in….”

I nod. “Yes, those toe-curling minutes between the last cup of coffee and….”

He throws a side-glance at me then, chuckling, he produces a couple of glasses and a bottle from a cupboard.

“Music perhaps?” he suggests, waving me to a player. Have a look through the list, see what appeals to you. Make yourself comfortable.”

It’s a pleasant room, and looks expensive; beautifully decorated, with fresh flowers by the window, fruit in a bowl and elegant furniture. Eyeing the pale, thick carpet, I slip my shoes off.

I watch Ryan as he wrestles with the corkscrew, then pouring two glasses, passes one to me. Such a good-looking man; in the lowered light, his chocolate eyes are almost black.

Together on the settee, we sit in awkward silence for a minute. The wine glass is a handy prop, giving me something to do as I sip, waiting for….

…. for what comes next….

“So, who makes the first move, mmm?” he says, his arm slipping around my shoulders. “This may not be the last of the great romances, but I think we can both enjoy this.”

Taking my face in his palms, he brushes back a stray lock of my dark hair, finger-combing it back behind an ear.

He doesn’t smile, but his expression is intense as he gazes at me. “No, not pretty. Little girls and flowers are pretty. Kittens are pretty. You are beautiful.” He leans in to me, his mouth close to mine, not touching, but halfway, inviting me in closer. As I sway towards him, his lips brush my skin, just barely.

And now he smiles, his lips curving as he inclines his face to mine. This time, the kiss is deeper, the soft flesh of his mouth pressing to mine. He tastes of wine and a sweet, lustful masculinity.

The fingers of one hand twine through my dark chestnut locks. The other hand glides around my shoulders, pulling me in.

His face resting by mine, “How do you like it, Debbie? Hard? Soft? Do you want to take the lead? Or do you prefer me to?”

I didn’t expect him to ask me this. Most men simply get on with it.

“I like to be man-handled a bit….”

He pauses. “You enjoy pain?”

“No, not pain, or not too much. But I like the man to take charge.”

He nods. “Take charge? Dominate you, you mean?”

“Yes, that’s just what I mean.”

He pauses, collecting his thoughts I think, then, “Stand up.” He takes my wine glass from me. “Go on. Stand up.”

uncertainly,

head-pointing

shoulders, a hand on my

He’s strong….

he raises them over my

close, he looms over me and my breath

repeats, his voice fierce. “Answer me, Debbie. I’m not going to play these sorts

“Yes, like that.”

my heartbeat drumming through our joined bodies.

breath juddering, “Strip

I’d

up and over my head. “I’d like

me, deliberately rough, unclipping my bra

mouth around one, stooping to take it between his lips. The other, he

don’t you?” he murmurs. “So do I. Let’s see

bed, then turning me, pushes me down on the mattress, flat on my back. The zip rasps as

elbows, panting now, I watch as he strips off tie and shirt, and shrugs off shoes. Through his black trousers, the unmistakable bulge of his

to enjoy this,

my

clenches, and my

Ah, Jeez….

“…. Kirstie.”

“What?”

not Debbie.

to me. That’s a ‘pretty’ name.” He clambers over me, hovering on

being dominated…. Do as you’re told then.” He cocks his head to my panties. “Show

“Show you what?”

what I’m going to fuck. Give me

“You want me to….?”

go for it. But you don’t. I can see from here that you’re dripping. And if you wanted to be coy, you should have worn black. Now….” he traces a finger over the dark stain on the crotch of my panties, then, pulling the satin to one side, slips it inside. “So, if you want me to fuck you, show

anymore. Instead, his gaze alternates between my eyes and my

sending a shudder skipping through me. Very, very gently, he winds the hardening nub in a circle and electricity skitters through to

Then it stops….

all you get until I get what I want. Show

I glide hands down into my panties, sliding them away. My movement is blocked by his legs straddling mine, and he swings over to sit beside me instead, his gaze locked

naked to this near-stranger, arching

but open your

feeling a bit timid, I ease my

want a

a finger in between my folds. A hot flush is spreading over my breasts, perspiration beading my skin, and despite my discomfiture at

Instructed….?

my pussy

see properly now. You’re sopping. Now, fuck yourself.

I push into myself, dipping into my

“Deeper,” he says.

not easy; very difficult

“Here, let me do that.” Penetrating me with his long fingers, they curl up inside me, rubbing at my inner walls. And as sheer pleasure ripples through

rise to howls, while my hips rise involuntarily, my body arching to rest on my soles

he sucks them

pushes his hand at my mouth.

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