Another Time Around Ch. 00

Prologue

I was sitting in the lobby of the W Hotel in Seattle, reading a local entertainment guide, trying to figure out how to occupy myself for the next couple days, when I heard a familiar voice above the afternoon bustle, a woman's voice.

I folded the paper down and peered around the lobby, but I saw only men in business suits. As I tried to place it, I realized that the voice was southern. So, I thought, maybe that's what had drawn me in -- why it had seemed so familiar. I hadn't heard a genuine Carolina accent in a long time.

I went back to my paper and my plans, but I soon found myself thinking about old girlfriends. To be honest, southern girls are a mixed blessing - beautiful, to be sure, but also Baptist, or worse. Even in college the girls were conflicted about sex. Generally, they preserved their sense of purity by insisting that things were "done to" them, they weren't really an active participant -- "I guess if you really want to make me cum, I won't stop you." As you might imagine, reciprocation was out of the question-- "Your turn? That's just gross."

I didn't miss southern girls. Southern women, on the other hand, they were a different story. By their mid-twenties most of the beauty pageant types were off enduring their first marriages. Suddenly it is not so hard to find wonderful, smart southern women -- ambitious and independent but undeniably feminine. They also seemed to have forgotten whatever they'd learned in Summer Bible School.

One girls in particular came to mind, Anna Kingston. I first had a crush on her in college; back then she would hide her young body beneath over-sized sweatshirts or dropped-waist dresses. A few years later, when I ran into her in Atlanta, she'd clearly learned not just to accept, but to revel in her curves.

As a young lawyer she had adopted a look that was tasteful, elegant even, but she now accentuated rather than hid her form. She loved nothing more than driving opposing attorneys to distraction, but she never flirted, in fact, the opposite. She would always remain maddeningly focused on the negotiations, refusing even a hint of familiarity.

However, in contrast to her stone-faced seriousness, she would simply exude sensuality through every pore -- the way she moved, looked, even the way she breathed. Anna would slowly seduce these men with little more than brushing her auburn curls from her face, or teasing her lips with tip of her glasses.

If all else failed she would find reasons to stand up and each time she would absentmindedly smooth imaginary wrinkles out of her clothes, gently sweeping her hands over her luscious belly, hips and bottom. Underneath she would be wilting into her silk panties, but she never broke pose, even as her dark pink nipples strained the fabric of her blouse.

Sometimes, when she was working late, she would call and ask me pay her a visit. We would have sex in her office, the conference room, even on the managing partner's desk.

Once, I arrived to find her office dark. I looked around, but couldn't find her anywhere. I checked the law library, her conference rooms. Knowing that other attorneys were probably still around I was hesitant to draw attention, but, frustrated, I finally began calling "Anna?" in a mock whisper, hoping the potential embarrassment might shake her from her hiding place. Nothing.

Running low on options, I decided to try the restrooms. I went to the partner's private washroom just down the hall from Anna's office. I gave a gentle knock and, finally, Anna responded. In a soft, even voice she simply said, "I'm in here." It was impossible to read the tone -- it didn't sound like a warning, but it didn't sound like an invitation either. I knocked again and she responded in exactly the same way.

Finally, I tried the handle. The door was unlocked. I very slowly cracked the door and waited for some response. She didn't utter a word. So I slowly opened it up more and peeked inside. The narrow beam of light cast across the back of her heels and the curve of her calves. Moving in further, I could see that Anna leaning forward, bracing herself on the pedestal sink. She was bent over with her skirt hiked completely to her waist, the light falling on the pale skin of her bare ass.

Dumbstruck, I just stood there for a few seconds, still holding the door wide open. She had not turned around, or even said one word. I looked for her reflection in the mirror above the sink, but instead of meeting her eye, I saw for the first time that she was blindfolded, a silk scarf covering her eyes.

I was still searching for words when I realized that, in fact, she didn't want me to say anything, or even to know, for sure, that it was me standing there. After another moment to collect myself I stepped inside and closed the door. I could almost feel her shudder as dead bolt slammed shut.

I slowly approached her, sounding out each step as I came up behind, stopping only once I felt the crease of my trousers graze the back of her thigh. I then slowly undid my belt, making the leather creak as I pulled it tight to release the buckle. I then slid it all the way out of my pants, leaving her to imagine my intentions.

That thought led to others -- all the wicked things I could do to her, ways to tease and torture her. Provided, that is, I could resist my immediate urges. In fact, how could any man resist just taking her and fucking her right there? I then realized that she didn't expect anyone to resist, didn't want them to resist. She wanted to be found there and fucked there.

I folded my belt over twice and gave her two quick, hard slaps across her ass and kicked her legs further apart sending her weight forward onto her arms, and exposing her quivering pussy. It was open, pink and wet--the anticipation, waiting there in the restroom had obviously been to much for her.

I stepped squarely behind Anna and grabbed her hips. I arched my body and pulled her back slightly, so that I could send my cock deep into her with one long thrust. Once deep inside her, I held it there only for a second as she gasped, and then I began to fuck her, urgently, forcefully, furiously.

To keep myself from cumming almost immediately I diverted my attention to her breasts. As I reach around her I discovered that she'd opened her blouse to her waist; I felt the soft, thin fabric of her camisole, found the v between her breasts, twisted the material between my fingers and ripped the camisole open with one forceful pull.

I quickly reached for her nipples, which were harder than any I'd ever felt. I pinched them and pulled them and then as I twisted one hard between my thumb and forefinger she exploded into her first wave of orgasms.

Usually, I thoughtful lover might slow down and let her catch her breath for a moment, but as I said, I knew she wasn't waiting half-naked in a mens room for a thoughtful lover. So I continued to pound her, perhaps even harder than before. I again felt my own cock begin to quiver and the cum swell in my balls.

I change angles slightly so I could feel the head of my cock being squeezed by her spasming pussy. Arching my back a little I grabbed a handful of Anna's hair and balanced myself there, up on the balls of my feet, my cock deep inside her, teetering on the edge, when she began to scream and convulse in another orgasm. I had to pull her hair even harder just to stay inside her as she writhed back and forth. The muscles in her arms were flexed tight, she gripped the sink so tightly, it seemed she might rip it from the wall.

As she came she collapsed on the floor, struggling to adjust on to her hands and knees, clearly still wanting to receive my cum -- she had earned. I quickly entered her again as she braced against tile and gasped for air. A few more time, pressing into her fevered pussy is all I could stand. I pulled out of her just as I began to climax, even before I could reach to stroke my cock, I was shooting jets of warm cum.

By the time I finished there was cum all over her ass and her back, and god knows where else. I reached my hand down and rubbed some into the skin, gliding my fingers through the warm slick drops and then all over her tight, round bottom.

She slid onto the floor, still breathing hard and her pelvis twitched from time to time as if she were still feeling little after shocks from her orgasms. Anna's bare breasts and legs were pressed against the cold tile, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. To my surprise Anna then slid a hand down to her soaked pussy and began to slowly rub her clit, seeming to know that she had one tiny orgasm left in her, and she was determined to coax it out.

Watching this, I removed my hand from her ass and took it to her mouth and quickly slid my ring finger between her lips. She swallowed my cum-cover finger into her mouth and sucked it deep inside, and she moved on to each finger, licking and sucking all traces of cum from my hand. As she enticed me to fuck her mouth with my middle finger she finally reached that last orgasm. With that, Anna's whole body seemed to soak into the floor.

As quickly and quietly as I could I pulled my clothes back on and grabbed my belt which was beside her on the floor. I then slowly pulled the door open. I looking down on her it was hard not to say something, to comment on how amazing that was -- how amazing she was. But I bit my tongue, taking only the liberty to memorize the scene -- her spent body, half-naked, traces of my cum on her ass, back and face.

I then turned and walked away, hoping not to seen by anyone else. As I pressed the elevator started down I realized that the bathroom door was still unlocked, but then I caught myself -- she wanted it that way.

After reliving that little episode there in the hotel lobby, I of course started asking myself "why the hell I ever stopped seeing her?" There was no decent answer-- a fact to which she would certainly agree. Fear, youth, stupidity, I guess any would serve as an excuse. But, anyway that was years ago and she was 3000 miles away....