Choosing Her Lover

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, I

head-pointing

shoulders, a hand on my chest, pushes me hard,

He’s strong….

Grabbing me by the wrists, he raises them over my

over me and

I’m not going to play these sorts

“Yes, like that.”

against me harder, my heartbeat drumming through our joined bodies. “Do you undress

breath juddering, “Strip

before. I’d have made some arrangements over what you

hands sliding down to the hem of my pullover, he tugs at it, jerking it up and over my head. “I’d

chest heaving. He reaches back around me, deliberately rough, unclipping my bra and

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

enjoy this, don’t you?” he murmurs. “So do I. Let’s see just how

then turning me, pushes me down on the mattress, flat on my back. The zip rasps as he unfastens my jeans and peels them away, leaving me

and shrugs off shoes. Through his black trousers, the unmistakable

to enjoy

my

tingling, my pussy knots and clenches, and my panties are wet…. very

Ah, Jeez….

“…. Kirstie.”

“What?”

not Debbie. My name’s

suits you better. You didn’t really look like a ‘Debbie’ to me. That’s a ‘pretty’ name.” He clambers over me, hovering on all fours, straddling my quivering body. “I’ll rephrase

“So, you like being dominated…. Do as you’re

“Show you what?”

know what. Let me see what I’m going to fuck. Give me a

“You want me to….?”

at my crotch. “If I thought seduction was what you wanted, I’d 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 me

alternates between my eyes and my

brushes over my clit, sending a shudder skipping through me. Very, very gently, he winds the hardening nub in a circle and electricity skitters through to my core which

Then it stops….

all you get until I get what I

following my movements, 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 on my

naked

nice, but open your

bit timid, I ease my thighs further apart to

want a better

my breasts, perspiration beading my skin, and

Instructed….?

my pussy

You’re sopping. Now, fuck yourself. Go on, let me see those fingers

into myself,

“Deeper,” he says.

I reach for my g-spot. It’s not easy; very difficult

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

He rubs harder, and my wails rise to howls, while my hips rise involuntarily, my body arching to rest on my soles and shoulders. “I want your cunt

his fingers, he sucks them clean. “Mmmm,

his hand at my mouth. “Taste yourself.