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, I

says, head-pointing me through a

follows me in, then spinning me by the shoulders,

He’s strong….

me by the wrists, he raises them over my

looms over me

voice fierce. “Answer me, Debbie. I’m not going to play these sorts of games without an answer from

“Yes, like that.”

my heartbeat drumming through our joined bodies. “Do you undress yourself,

juddering,

“Really? Wish I’d known that before. I’d have made some arrangements over what you

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

chest heaving. He reaches back around me, deliberately

take it between his lips. The other, he kneads one-handedly, pinching at the

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

me down on the mattress, flat on my back. The zip rasps as

his black trousers, the unmistakable bulge of his erection presses tight. Bare-chested, he is tawny skinned, with a scattering of black

enjoy this, Debbie.

all my buttons….

knots and clenches, and my panties

Ah, Jeez….

“…. Kirstie.”

“What?”

not Debbie. My

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 it

dominated…. Do

“Show you what?”

see what I’m going to

“You want me to….?”

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

gaze alternates between

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

Then it stops….

until I get what I want.

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

slides off, leaving me naked to this near-stranger,

but open

timid, I ease my thighs further

I want a better

is spreading over my breasts, perspiration beading my skin, and despite my discomfiture at what I am being

Instructed….?

do, my pussy is

I can see properly now. You’re sopping. Now, fuck yourself. Go on, let me see those

myself,

“Deeper,” he says.

I reach for my g-spot. It’s not easy; very difficult to do for yourself, but

they curl up inside me, rubbing at my inner walls. And as sheer pleasure ripples through my belly, I wail, a hot gush bursting

wails rise to howls, while my hips rise involuntarily, my body arching to rest on my soles and shoulders. “I want your cunt dissolving by the time

sucks

again, pushes his hand at

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