April in Texas Ch. 02

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From the airport to the center of town.
4.1k words
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Part 2 of the 11 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 04/20/2006
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SLC-Ohio
SLC-Ohio
64 Followers

It was noise that woke me up, the noise of big jets flying low over the hotel coming into the San Antonio airport. The half light of early sunrise lit the room. Louie was already up, in the bath. The door was open and I could hear him urinating a strong long piss that probably drained a quart of liquid from his body. When he came back to bed, he noticed that I was awake.

"Are you OK today?" he asked.

"Yeah, well pretty much...get me a glass of water."

Next thing Louie carried the water over, took a sip himself, then handed it to me. It cleansed my dry mouth as I drank a big gulp.

"You snored like a whore," he said.

I turned and covered my head.

"You were lit last night, and you did me right."

The huge hotel pillows were a nice buffer from his nonsense.

"Back from a deep sleep, you have a schedule to keep."

Thinking about it, it was an unusual habit. Louie rhymed in the morning - yes rhymed in the morning - and that was the only way he'd speak. He would chant, sing in rhymes, typically corny rhymes, not high quality poetry. Or maybe change the words to songs to reflect the way he felt. He did it every day, probably still doing it now. Louie sat across the king sized bed, leaned toward me, and put his hand on my face.

"The Texas sky is blue, and your eyes are too."

And then he started singing that crappy theme 'The eyes of Texas are upon you...' I covered my ears.

"Spoon with me dear, I'll chew on your ear."

So we cuddled, snuggled and we spooned. The clock read 6:36, which was about right for us considering that Texas is time wise behind Ohio. Louie ran his fingers across my fanny, and then caressed my vagina. He fingered me, slowly, easily, as I lay facing away from him. Once I moistened up he took some of my juices and rubbed them on his penis. We had been starting our days this way for years. He claimed my hormones made him hard, and once hard, he would gently work his stiff penis into me, sometimes when I was still half asleep. That morning, as always, it was relaxing. He did all the pumping, I just lay there. Louie was long enough for me to get full penetration from the spooning position. But he could never climax, not that way. We'd do the comfortable spoon for as long as he felt like it, and a half hour was not uncommon. And we'd talk.

"So" he said, "am I going to be the spectator while you work today?" Louie reached his hand across my stomach and his middle finger found my clitoris. He began massaging me there as he screwed me from behind.

"No. There are things...oh that feels good....god, so good...yeah things I have to do to show the company that I am here on business...go up and down on it... there...that's so good...Lamar will be cool with it. I've spent a lot of time with him at company meetings, we're friends."

"A lot of time. Does that mean that you fucked him?"

As Louie asked that he started pumping at a more active pace.

"No, never. Lamar is...not that way. I mean we'd hang out and drink after work conferences....keep rubbing me there...and he likes me to...he tells me to...flash when we're out. He's harmless, you'll see."

"Have you sucked his cock?"

"No...I've never touched him...not even a kiss. But he's fun to be with...we once... years ago... played a game in Nashville after an insurance convention."

"What do you mean, a game?"

"We planned it...for fun. Some hotel bar that had red, white or pink wine....we'd meet there around 9:00....he challenged me to wear the most see through dress I had....and no underwear....Lamar would be waiting in the bar, in a dark booth in the back..."

Louie listened to me, obviously enjoying the story. Maybe it is healthy, as some say, for couples to express fantasies, and Louie loved hearing the sound of my voice while he made love to me. I went on.

"I didn't have a dress with me...so I wore a light blue, thin lacy diaphanous slip...it was the color of the sky...just a slip, that's all...it had large looping arm holes, thin straps...I added three inch heels, beads...

"No panties?"

"No."

"When I arrived the bar was crowded...full.....long lines for everything....I saw Lamar but I walked through the crowd, showing off, before I joined him...when I finally went to Lamar, I dropped my slip's straps for him in the booth...the slip hung on my hard nipples and the beads hung between my breasts...I sat that way for a few minutes....then I pulled my slip straps up.....I walked to the bar for our drinks, back and forth, brushing into the crowd, pushing my way to the bar, being pushed from behind...unknown hands ...my breasts were rubbed...my crotch felt...my slip lifted up...."

Louie was getting really excited as I tried to recall every detail of a flashing scene that, realistically, happened when I was in my twenties. He loved my sex stories, loved to hear me spin. The more I went on the more he enjoyed it. Then he withdrew from behind and rolled me on my back. I spread my legs wide for him. Once in me again, all the way in me, he played me with deep thrusts, he played me like smooth jazz, he ran his long trombone in and out, in and out....

"And Lamar didn't fuck you?" Louie asked, wanting to hear more.

"No, nothing."

"Why not?"

"Lamar was more interested... in the reaction of the men to me...to my flashing...he wanted me...I think.... to entice strangers...so he could watch...he's that way."

Grabbing my arms, Louie held them above my head. Sweat was dripping from his forehead; his sweat and his chest hair coated my boobs and stomach. Louie worked out over me, he was like an athlete in a gym. His arms went up and down like push ups, lifting his weight completely off of me, his waist pumped like sit ups, sticking me, corkscrew moves, deep thrusts, twists, turns, that drove me, that drilled me....

"Did you go to his room?"

In the middle of a trembling, quivering orgasm, I could hardly speak.

"No, I didn't."

"What did you do?"

"We played with the bar crowd... for an hour or so...I had some fun walking back and forth...Lamar was talking with some guy who...came over to our booth..."

"Did you know this guy?"

"No."

"Was that the idea...to find a stranger?"

"No...not really....the idea was to flirt and to have fun."

"Were you having fun?"

"Yes. Lamar told me to sit next to his new friend...in the dark corner of the booth...we hadn't planned on anything that complex, but...then he told me to drop my slip for them...and to pull my legs up on the bench seat...the slip fell down, away from my nipples... and then it rode up as I opened my legs...Lamar's friend fingered me...he sat there drinking a beer, talking to Lamar as he fingered me...then he told me to drop down under the table...Lamar wanted to watch me...watch me...he moved over to our side as I took his friend's cock....in my mouth...it was dark....I don't think anyone else saw me suck him..."

As I went on with my imaginative details, Louie exploded. Works every time, I thought. He rolled off of me and over on his back.

"Feel my head," he sighed.

He was soaking wet. I've seen people put less energy, and less time, into running a 5K. His heart, I rubbed his chest, had to be beating at 150. We were now wide awake, and ready for whatever that Texas day had to offer.

The hotel had a breakfast buffet. I sent Louie there for coffee, while I did a quick rinse of his body fluids in the shower. In a few minutes he was back, putting my styrofoam cup on the bathroom sink.

"Sheryl, we should eat here. The food looks like plastic, but it won't sicken us. I know that I am burning a lot of energy. Throw your shorts on and let's get some of what we've already paid for."

That meant what it always meant with Louie, let's go now. Don't bother with makeup or underwear. So I put on his white tee shirt, a baggy pair of short cut off jeans, high heeled sandals, sunglasses and a ball cap to hide my wet hair.

In a minute we were in the buffet line, sampling the array of sausages, eggs, fake waffles, bacon, juice, and more coffee. There were a couple of single guys, sitting separately, with ties on. Louie and I sat at a small table, Louie facing me, and I sat facing the single guys. I figured that I might tease these traveling salesmen with a surprise when they looked at my tan legs. My cut offs, when I opened my legs, were so loose, they could see all the way to my navel. I sat there spread just enough to let these strangers glimpse my bare puss, and I pretended not to realize it. As we ate, I flashed these strangers, I sucked on my fork after every bite and I licked my lips. Then I called Lamar on my cell phone.

"Sheryl?." Lamar must have recognized my number.

"You guys here in San An?"

I lifted my left leg up to the seat, and I put my arm around my knee. I know that using a cell phone in a restaurant attracts attention, and I yelled into the phone as I flashed my bare crotch.

"Yeah, we're at the airport hotel having breakfast. Louie's fine. I am playing with the crowd, you know, but you need to pick us up and drive us to the rental car place."

"I should be there in twenty minutes. Keep your pants on. Ok, I mean keep your cell on and I'll call if there's a problem."

Damn it, Lamar, in twenty minutes? Twenty minutes was not nearly enough time for me to get things together. Sure, our bags were still packed, but I needed to change, needed to put my face on, needed to check out, and Louie hadn't done his morning regulars and that itself can take twenty minutes. We finished our food and hurried back to our room, just in time to find Lamar at the door.

"Hello, hello" Lamar said. "You are so beautiful..."

"Cut the crap. You've seen me before. Lamar, this is Louie; Louie meet Lamar."

I wondered how Louie would take to Lamar. They were not alike. Most guys, at least those within our company, didn't like Lamar. They didn't like him because he had his own opinions. And they didn't like his short, small frame, and his feminine mannerisms. Most men thought Lamar was gay. Whether he was, I didn't know. He was married, no kids. Louie always got along with other gay guys we knew. I didn't foresee a problem, but I still wondered.

Louie excused himself to use the bathroom and I knew I had a few minutes alone with Lamar. He stood in the doorway of the bedroom while we talked about our plans for San Antonio.

"Should we come by your office?" I asked.

"Yeah, I need to show you a couple of things. It won't take long."

"Anything else?"

"We'll need to telephone Nashville to let them know you're here."

"From your office?"

"Yeah. We can do dinner on the company, maybe tomorrow."

"It'll be hot today. What should I wear?"

I turned my back to Lamar, and I pulled my white tee shirt off. Facing away from him, bare up top, I went on with the conversation.

"How many districts are in the school pool now?"

No response.

Then, still standing, I unfastened my cut offs and let them fall to the floor. Placing my finger to my lips, I twisted a little his way, and I made the "shhh" sound. I paused for a moment, letting Lamar study my nude body; I figured that it was nice of him to show us around San Antonio. I kicked the cut offs from my ankles, and then I sat on the bed with my legs open as I went through my baggage. Lamar didn't approach me, he was across the room and really didn't see that much, that much more than my backside.

"These should do," I said, as I found my see through panties in my bag. I slipped them on. What I had planned to wear was already out on the bed - a short yellow halter dress that clasped around my neck. Couldn't wear a bra with it. Smiling at Lamar, I dressed myself as he stood there watching.

From the sounds in the bathroom, I knew that Louie was finishing what he called his four SH morning routine. I am one of the four SH routines. It went ' Sheryl, shave, shit and shower'. That's what he'd do every morning he could. I stuffed our loose clothes in a bag, made sure that Louie was ready, put on a little eyeliner and lip gloss, and then I scoped the final check of the hotel room, making sure that we did not leave anything behind. The bill was advance pay. Placing the key card on the table, we three piled ourselves, and our stuff, into Lamar's insurance company issue car - a white Ford Taurus.

"I reserved a rental car at Alamo," I said. "My internet directions say it's here near the airport. Can you find it?"

And it was. Once there, I went inside with Louie while Lamar waited. After a stand in line, we spoke with a counter girl.

"We don't have any record of this reservation, and frankly, even if we did, we are out of cars. It will be a three hours before we have anything, if you can wait. Sorry."

She may as well have said 'screw you'.

"Have you paid them any money, like a deposit?" Louie asked me.

"No."

"Then have Lamar drive us back to the Budget rental we passed. I've rented cars from Budget everywhere. Remember that nice Ford diesel wagon in Munich? I am in their computer, insurance, license, credit card - they won't give me any shit."

Once there, they didn't. But what they did was upgrade us to the biggest car - and probably the only car they had available- for free. A huge, light blue, full size Mercury grandpa edition automobile. Luggage would not be a problem. We loaded that luggage from Lamar's trunk to our own, chatting together in the hot Texas sun as to what was next. It was nearly noon in Texas, we were 'burning daylight'.

"My plan is," Lamar said, "to visit that wine shop I've been telling you about. Their wines are great, I go there regularly. It's not far away, you can follow me. I'll go slow."

The wine shop itself was located in an industrial area, north east of the city center. As we approached, there were car repair shops, old small factories, warehouses - not an area where we would expect to find a fine wine shop. And the place had some phony name, I don't exactly remember, something like 'Wine Forever' or 'Wine, etc.', a name that doesn't say a thing about the proprietor or what's for sale. It was a blue / gray place that didn't look inviting.

But once inside it was a different story. There was a center tasting table with uncorked bottles ready for us. Lamar was at least mildly familiar with the owner, they spoke as friends. And their bottle selection was best described as unique. There was no grocery store wine. Small rooms were set aside, such as the 'French Room' and there were leather chairs, wine books, places to relax and drink. The 'Italian Room' had wines from Italy that we had not seen for sale in the USA, a Cennataio Chianti, a wine that we had hand carried home from Tuscany.

"These are my friends from Ohio," Lamar said, to a large man who appeared to be in charge. "Sheryl, Louie, meet Joe DeSerrento. He owns this place."

"Bongiorno. Sono Luigi Benevento," Louie shot back as he extended his hands, one to shake and the other to grasp.

"And this is Sheryl," Lamar chimed in.

"Thank you for visiting my wine store," Joe said. "My Italian is not so good, 'poco', but welcome. "Would you like Champaigne? We'll start with Champaigne, all right? It's early. It's not always known as a woman's drink, but women almost always like it."

He may have been older, but Mr. Joe was an older handsome man, a Sean Connery look alike with his square jaw and gray temples. His wide set Italian eyes studied me, and I enjoyed his friendly attention. He poured us flutes of Champaigne.

It was California sparkling, but it was very good. Dry, refreshing, especially considering the heat of the day. We drank with the owner, and this was unusual for us, unusual for the owner to be openly drinking with customers, without charge. In Ohio it's illegal. I had a glass and then I had another...Louie gulped his Champaigne and wandered around with the owner's niece, who worked there. She was a pretty blond, generations removed from the Naples of her great grandparents. She had a black halter top on that flapped open when she bent a certain way and very short shorts. As I drank more, I noticed that this young gal was teasing, seductively showing off her boobs, not just for Louie, but for me too. Lamar, I lost track of Lamar, as the Champaigne went to my head.

The owner Joe poured me another flute, too quickly, and the bubbly overflowed onto my sundress. Or maybe I spilled a full glass on myself. The cold Champaigne soaked my thin dress and exposed my bare front. I looked like a candidate in a wet tee shirt contest, but I made no attempt at modesty. My nipples were hard and showing. As I took a step back, the niece brought me a cotton towel. I patted the front of my dress, rubbing my boobs through the now transparent fabric. This was a holiday and I was having fun.

"There's a dryer next door," she said, "I can lend you something to put on, if that's... embarrassing you... too much."

She stared at my nipples the whole time she spoke.

I arched my back to take full effect of the attention and I walked across the room. She didn't get the fact that I wanted to show my boobs off. Inside my mind, I wanted to take my dress off, I wanted to drink Champaigne from my shoe.

"I'll be fine," I said. "When I go out in the sun, it will dry right away."

Louie was accustomed to my little trick. It was one of many that I'd used when we went out flashing. We had our nude weekends and sexual adventures. I'd flash strangers in public places. A couple of times, I don't think he knew it, I gave head...behind his back...quickie blow jobs...

Louie and the niece were sampling the other open wines, a Windham's Black Label Chardonnay from Australia, a Pinot Grigio from the Venetio. The young blond was having a time teasing him, but he hung there right beside me. My electronic leash, I thought. Together we picked out a case, spending the better part of an hour socializing with these folks, flirting and drinking.

"We're staying at the Menger," I said, a little loud, thinking that it was a famous hotel and how cool I was to afford it. I was boasting. "Is it hard to find?"

"No," the younger blond said, "it's in the middle of downtown, right next to the Alamo. Can't miss it."

I knew that. Maps and printed directions were stuffed in my bag, I knew the address, what roads to take, when and where to turn, I even had a confirmed suite number.

"I'll lead you there," Lamar said. "Let's load up, and follow me."

We exchanged hugs as we said our goodbyes, Louie groping the young blonde's tits and me getting groped by the owner. I shook my breasts into the Mr. Joe's chest as he felt my ass. But that was enough. I blame the Champaigne. Lamar picked up our case of wine, I rearranged myself, and we left.

The drive to the Hotel Menger was uneventful. Uneventful because I closed my eyes, and when I opened them we were parked in the entrance turn at the hotel.

"Sheryl...Sheryl.."

Then we were walking through the hotel lobby. It was a grand old hotel, more than a hundred years old, and the lobby was huge, built when guests would gather there before air conditioning. Antique furniture, Persian rugs, the place was as nice as I hoped it would be.

"That's a Vose and Davis desk," Louie said, as he noticed an item of furniture. "Fifteen thousand for a new one, and that one is seventy years old."

Louie continued to mill around the lobby as I completed the check in. A few minutes later we were dropping our luggage in our room on the fourth floor. While the lobby may have been that of an old hotel, everything else had been expanded and remodeled. Our room had a balcony terrace that overlooked a swimming pool and an enclosed courtyard, with other rooms directly across from us and at our sides too. Other guests could see onto our balcony. I decided to freshen up while Louie moved the car to the hotel parking lot.

I stripped off the sundress and rinsed it out in the sink. The sun was shining through the curtains of the balcony. Drawing the curtains back, I forgot for a second that I was nearly nude. Well, ok, I didn't really forget, I had my panties on. I walked out on the balcony and hung the dress to dry on the wrought iron railing. The hot sun warmed my bare body and I took a long time making sure the dress was evenly laid. Then I heard Louie come back in the room. He found me standing on the balcony, on full display for anyone who cared to look.

SLC-Ohio
SLC-Ohio
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