Chicago Hotel Adventure Ch. 02

byLothario the Great©

“Whoa, you shaved.”

“Surprise,” Sylvia whispered, as she pulled him to his feet. They kissed softly on the lips. Sylvia opened her eyes, looked down the corridor nervously, then looked back at Wes and giggled. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“We’re only playing doctor at the moment.”

“You’ll need to treat me for hypothermia in a moment, Wes. It’s a lot colder down here without any clothes.”

“I think I can prescribe something for that,” Wes said. He moved his hand between her legs, forcing her to lift one knee and make her pussy available to him. Wet cream rested thick and hot at the entrance.

“Oh my god,” Sylvia whispered.

“We have to be quiet,” Wes warned.

“I’m good at being quiet,” Sylvia answered. “Just shut up and fuck me, will you?” She grabbed Wes’s erect penis in her hand and began to stroke him. Wes put his hand around hers and kept her stroking as he pulled her to her knees. Wes laid his naked back on the concrete.

“Chivalry isn’t dead, I see,” Sylvia said very quietly.

“Shiver-y is more like it. Your nipples are hard as rocks.”

“Talk filthy to me, Wes. You know I like it. No, wait. We have to hurry up. Just pound me fast.” Sylvia knelt over Wes’s body, aiming her pussy at his cock. She guided the shaft into her dripping hole, gingerly placing her weight down onto Wes. Then she started to bounce, rocking back and forth, doing her best to hit the spot inside her vagina that would make her come. Wes reached down and pinched her clitoris between two fingers, and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning loudly. Soon the orgasm hit, and Sylvia trembled viciously, her tits jiggling rapidly as she shivered. She fell forward with her mouth against Wes’s ear.

“I’ve been working…. myself up all morning… Got so horny…”

Wes thumped his cock once up into the girl, enjoying the sensation of her delicious wetness. Sylvia squealed, then sat up and put her hand over her mouth. The two laughed silently, looking both directions yet again. Sylvia kissed Wes on the lips as she extracted his penis from inside her. Then she kissed her way down to his cock. Sitting on her knees on the concrete floor, Sylvia sucked the hell out of Wes’s cock.

Wes kept wanting to grab her by the hair, but the curls were still pristine and would have to stay that way until after her afternoon recital. He found it strange how sexy was the idea that he was getting a blow job from a professional-level cellist, and this idea was in his mind when he shot his load into Sylvia’s throat. She fondled his balls and pumped the shaft as she sucked the last drops from his head. Then she crawled back up Wes’s body. Once she was facing him again, she opened her mouth and showed him all the semen she’d collected.

“Whatever floats your boat, babe,” Wes said, and with that, Sylvia placed her open mouth over Wes’s. Wes tasted his own seed as he licked inside Sylvia’s mouth, and the act seemed to turn her on viciously. She rubbed the outside of her slit against Wes’s still hard penis, pounding her clit against the stiff member. Wes grabbed her ass and helped her rub. Quickly she came again, still swapping spit and fluids with Wes.

Sylvia grabbed Wes hard by the arms as her vibrations subsided. Then she took a deep breath and sat up, another deep breath and stood. She helped Wes up and they both dressed, trying their best to dry off the dampness from their genitals before stepping back into their formal wear. At last they stood holding hands, staring at each other’s bodies. Sylvia had a nervous, girlish look about her.

“I liked it last night when we fell asleep and didn’t have to keep talking. Now I don’t know what to say.”

Wes said, “How about if just agree to look forward to tonight.”

Sylvia’s smile made way for mock exhaustion. “Oh god, Wes, you’re going to break me in two.”

“If that’s what you’re into.” Wes pecked her on the lips, then led her back the way they came, Wes carrying Sylvia’s cello. As they left the stairwell and rejoined the students on the first floor, no one seemed to give them a second glance. Wes returned to find his tray missing, but he wasn’t very hungry now. Sylvia set down her cello and walked toward the food line, leaving Wes behind. He wanted to join her, to continue talking and preparing for the evening, but they still weren’t really talking in public.

Damn, Wes thought, we should have discussed it in the tunnel. Would they continue to keep it a secret? Of course they would, as long as they were in Chicago and Roger knew they were sharing a room. First, people would find out they were a couple. Then, they’d learn the two had shared a room. Lastly, they’d make the assumption (correctly) that they’d fucked. Wes knew he wasn’t up for scrutiny, and Sylvia wasn’t either. So the secret tryst would remain a secret. Wes still wanted to cry Sylvia’s name at the top of his lungs, but for now he’d sit in the piano contest room for the rest of the afternoon and not think about where he’d just had his dick. He left Sylvia behind to join the pianist crowd, waiting in the room to hear someone play next.

The guy on stage made a mess of Rachmoninoff, and it wasn’t even one of the harder compositions. Thoughts quickly drifted back to the steam tunnel incident. Was this the kind of thing that happened with a REAL girlfriend? Feelings of love, feelings of friendship, feelings of lust, all rolled up into one delicious package.

Before he knew it, the last competitor of the day had finished, and Wes stood outside the room waiting for results to be posted. He saw his name, and that was enough. Time to get back to his brunette beauty.

“Congratulations,” said the blonde named Sarah from over his shoulder. Wes turned to see her crying. “I guess I’ll just be watching the rest of the event from the back rows.”

She wants me to make her feel better, Wes thought. She wants me to tell her how great she did and hold her hand and reconfirm that I’ll be calling on her the next time I visit the West Coast. But she made some bad fingering mistakes, and I’m not going to California, and I don’t want to hold her hand.

He didn’t even feel nervous around the girl who had hit on him earlier. Something Sylvia had done to him was changing him inside, making him stronger. He even had the confidence to be gentle with Sarah.

“I’m sorry,” Wes said. “It’s pretty vicious.”

“Not for you.”

“Tell you the truth, my stomach was in knots. Listen, I hope you can enjoy the rest of the trip. You deserve a fun time.”

“Did you think I did a good job?” Sarah asked.

Lie to her, lie to her, lie to her. “Yeah, I was impressed. Those judges are just hard.”

Sarah smiled, then rolled her eyes. She knew she was being patronized, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Maybe I’ll see you around? We could do lunch or something.”

The conversation was not headed in the right direction. Could he soften the blow at all? Better to rip the band-aid off quickly. “Sarah, I’m sorry, but I think a girl from home is trying to start something up with me,” (understatement in the extreme), “and I don’t want to mess it up. I’d like to hang out with you, but it might not be a good idea.” It sounded lame, and Wes was embarrassed again.

Sarah deflated visibly inside. Without another word, she turned and left briskly. Wes knew exactly what kind of courage it had taken for Sarah to approach him as she did, and he knew he would never have that kind of courage. But perhaps Sarah was more confident about herself, and this was just a minor setback. Popular kids had thick skin, right? Besides, the smell of Sylvia’s perfume still lingered in his nostrils. The matter was closed.

He watched Sarah leave, wondering what he could have done differently. As he turned to go hear Sylvia play, he saw Sylvia at the end of the hallway. She had an odd look on her face.

She saw me talking to Sarah, Wes thought. She saw how upset Sarah was. She just wants to make sure.

Nevertheless, Wes felt a little ill. At first he figured Sylvia would walk ahead of him, to throw any lookers-on off the scent, but she stood still and waited for Wes to get close. Then she fell in beside him, and they walked out into the sunshine.

“Who was that?” Sylvia asked.

“The girl who gave me her number.” Best not to lie.

“What’s her name?”

“Sarah.” Wes hated the way his stomach felt.

“She’s pretty.”

Wes stopped walking. Fuck people looking, fuck people whispering. Sylvia had to be convinced that she was the one he wanted to be with. Sylvia stopped and, as predicted, looked around to see who was watching. Wes wanted to look too, but his words demanded careful attention.

“Sylvia. I know you don’t want to do this right now, but I want you to play well in your competition, so I’m telling you right now that there’s nothing between Sarah and me. At first I wanted to tell you it’s silly for you to be jealous when we barely knew each other yesterday, but it’s not silly that you’re jealous. You’re right to be jealous, because I belong to you now.” Wes took a deep breath. “That’s how it feels. It’s weird, but I’m just being honest. Maybe you don’t want that, but I’ve never felt this way before, and I won’t be any good to you if I have to hide what I’m feeling, because last night, I didn’t have to, and that’s never happened before with a woman. So, nothing between me and Sarah, and nothing between me and any girl I ever knew before, not like what’s between me and you.”

Wes realized he hadn’t been able to look into Sylvia’s eyes during the speech, that he had in fact been searching the perimeter to see who might be watching them. When he looked back at her, he saw the faintest smile on her lips, a perfect beautiful countenance on her perfect face. Not only that, but she was somehow more calm and also more anxious than she had been before. Wes saw her lovely chest rising and falling with her rapid breathing, but her eyes seemed soft and sympathetic. He was convinced that Sylvia’s heart must be beating at least as fast as his was. He smiled.

“Come hear me play,” Sylvia said.

Wes found a seat with some kids he knew. One girl named Shirley asked, “How did you do?”

“I’m in round two,” he said. Several of them slapped Wes on the back good-naturedly.

“You just missed Sherry,” Shirley said. “A Bach prelude, nothing too fancy. She did a great job, but I don’t know if it will be showy enough to push her past. Have you heard the piece Sylvia’s going to do?”

Wes shook his head no.

“Prokofiev, the one he died and left Blok to finish. Very very dark, especially in the finale. She’s going to ace this.” Another student agreed and said so.

Sylvia walked onstage, smiled shyly. None of the judges bothered her as she got into position. From the first note Sylvia was without error. Soon she had closed her eyes and was deep inside the music. Wes fell in love with the melancholy tone, so brooding and sad, but beautiful in the way an untouchable palace throne room is beautiful. And Sylvia looked like the queen of the realm conducting her court through the bow and string. Wes knew this was the music talking through him, but what was music for, if not to illuminate the emotions?

The crowd rose and applauded even before Sylvia’s last note had died away. Wes wanted to throw roses at her feet. He knew Sylvia had made it through, so he didn’t wait around to see the results.

Instead, he went back to the buses and sat on the curb, waiting for everyone to return. Brian Simonson had obviously won in his acting divisions, and Kate McGuire for poetry. Wes could tell by the look on Joan Clayborne’s face that she wanted to kill whoever had judged her string quartet, but she shouldn’t have been surprised with Lindsay Marchamp on second violin. She was terrible.

Up walked Sylvia, with her little jacket dangling over her shoulder by one finger and that huge cello in the other hand. Several students had been at her performance, and word spread fast how magnificently she had played. They rushed up and hugged her and clapped. After they started to dissipate, Sylvia looked around and saw Wes. She gave him a quick thumbs up and a beautiful toothy grin, then grabbed her instrument and made it back onto the bus.

James kept trying to talk to Wes on the bus, but Wes could not be bothered. He stared out the window as they moved through the city of Chicago. In the late afternoon the sun had moved behind clouds, turning the city streets a muted shade of gray. But the people on the sidewalks moved with such light-hearted determination into the stores, out of the coffee shops, over the bridges. Finally the buses entered the catacombs between the skyscrapers, where light did not easily overcome the gray shadows, and Wes enjoyed this part of the city most of all. He liked the idea that someone could hide in the city, the way he and his lover had been able to hide.

As he moved from the bus to the bedroom, he was only half-conscious. Off the bus, through the lobby, students and professors congratulating him, then he was waiting for the elevators. Once behind the closed door of Roger’s bedroom, he stared out the window and waited for night to fall. Faith would come to see Roger, and his time would begin.

He and Roger changed out of their suits and went down to the banquet hall where dinner was served. Sylvia sat at a table on the other side of the room, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. Wes was scared to death of the feelings he had at the sight of her. Hunger, deep animal hunger. There were no words in his mind for what he felt, just a dull red ache in his mind and the beating of his heart high in his chest.

“I wish they’d let us loose on the city tonight,” Roger said. “I wanna waste some money.”

“You just worry about round two,” Wes said. “Let the losers go sight-seeing tomorrow.”

“Wes, I like the way you think. Spoken like a champion. Congratulations, by the way.”

Faith approached the table where Roger and Wes sat. “Come on, stud,” she said as she punched Roger hard in the arm.

“Oww!” Roger yelled. He leapt from his chair and chased Faith out of the room, headed for the elevators. The time was only six-thirty.

Wes looked in Sylvia’s direction. Yes, she had seen Faith leave with Roger. Yes, she had that naked hunger in her eyes. She left her empty plates and walked toward the door. Wes stood and followed. They waited in front of the elevator, not daring to look at each other. No other students entered the car with them. As soon as the doors closed, Wes pressed Sylvia against the wall and attached his open mouth to her neck. Sylvia pulled Wes’s t-shirt up to the armpits and moved her hot hands over the landscape of his body. Wes pushed up Sylvia’s tank top and yanked down the cup of her bra. He sucked her nipple aggressively. The girl moaned and tugged at Wes’s hair. Then she pushed him away as the car approached their floor.

In the corridor, the evening’s festivities had begun. Girls sat in packs playing cards and drinking cola (with illicit additives, Wes had no doubt). Four guys were engaged in an unruly version of arena soccer, pounding the ball against the walls and doors. One student stuck his head out the door and shouted, “You assholes! Shut the fuck up!” To which the soccer players responded, “Fuck you, Steve! It’s not like you’re going to round two tomorrow.” Everyone ooooooh’ed at this evil slam. Sylvia opened her door and slipped in. Wes stole a glance and made sure no one was looking either. No one seemed to care.

Wes shut the door behind him. There stood Faith.

“What’s this?” she asked. “You’re hanging out here? You’re gonna get us busted!”

“Chill out, Faith,” Sylvia said. “We’re just talking about how the day went.”

“So you two are friends now?” Faith asked, incredulous.

“So you and Roger are?” Sylvia retorted. “Please. You’re fuck friends.”

“Maybe you and little Wesley are fuck friends. Is there something I should know?”

Wes stepped further into the room. “Your date’s waiting, Faith. Don’t give him blue balls.”

“You shut your hole, putz. I could whoop your ass.”

“Faith, jesus,” Sylvia interrupted. “We’re just talking. Wes and I have to get along, don’t we? You forced us to do that much, at least.” Wes hoped she wouldn’t say something like, What business of yours is it anyway? That would really have set Faith snooping down the wrong path.

“Whatever,” Faith said. “I don’t care what you two do.”

“Why no Faith,” Wes said, “I don’t mind if you kick my out of my room again tonight. You’re very welcome. And sleeping in the same room as Sylvia isn’t awkward at all.”

“Shut up,” Faith said with a half-hearted sneer. She put her room key in Wes’s hand, took his, then she was gone.

The door had barely shut before Sylvia ripped her tank top off her body. Wes kicked off his shoes as he watched Sylvia disrobe at a frantic pace. Off came the sweat pants, off came the bra, off came the black string panties he’d seen in the tunnel. Wes barely had time to remove his own underpants before Sylvia took him by the hand and threw him like a tetherball onto the bed.

Onto his body she slammed. No kissing, no fondling, just his cock impaling her already wet pussy. Sylvia closed her eyes and crashed against Wes’s body again and again, maximizing the power of the impact so that she made them both bounce on the bed. She grabbed Wes by the hips and ground down onto him, pushing her pussy so hard against Wes’s crotch that she might have been trying to hit her clit with the pelvis bone. Sylvia looked at Wes and licked her lips, then raked his chest with her fingernails. In a single moment she looked both like a raging beast and a pleading child. What could she want so desperately? It couldn’t be half as much as she was giving. Wes clinched the muscles in his abdomen each time he felt Sylvia’s tight pussy milk him. Between the time in the tunnel and now, she had somehow found a way to grip his shaft with her vagina walls, and the pressure was relentless.

A girl screamed playfully out in the hall. Sylvia looked up in surprise, suddenly reminded that people were just outside. Wes smiled at her anxiety, then grabbed her by the hips and pumped her with a rapid vibration. She came hard, holding her tits and pinching the nipples. As she allowed the wave to wash over her, she ran her hands through her hair, shaking out the waves and allowing those cute curls to dominate. Instead of slowing down after the orgasm, Sylvia began to ride Wes faster.

Wes sat up and grabbed Sylvia by the shoulders, holding her in place on his throbbing penis. He lifted her off the bed as he stood, then slammed her back down on the mattress. Now he could slam his cock deep inside her. Their genitals made sloppy wet sounds as his thick penis squeezed the juice out of her hole, spraying both their thighs. Then Sylvia reached up and pulled Wes down by the neck. Wes lost his balance and fell hard, but he tried to roll so he didn’t land full on the girl. This yanked them both off the bed, and they on the floor with a hard thud.

Sylvia landed on top of Wes, and his cock jammed up into her like a lance. She almost screamed but held it together, breathing open mouthed as the anguish passed. But she didn’t look anguished; in fact, she grabbed Wes by the shoulders and started fucking him very fast, slipping her pussy up and down the shaft at a furious pace. Faster, faster, still faster, and then she froze as another orgasm hit and her nails dug into Wes’s shoulders. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me,” she chanted.

Wes expected her to pull away, but the determination he saw in her eyes compelled her to keep going. Wes grabbed her by the neck to hold her still as he emptied his first load into her. She continued to milk him as the hot jizz filled her, and because she kept fucking him, the semen spurted out of her pussy onto the floor and on his crotch, glistening in his already wet pubic hair. Sylvia must have enjoyed the hands on her neck, because she reached down and choked Wes. Even as the cum continued to spurt out of his sensitive cock, he yanked Sylvia down on her side on the floor. Without removing his cock from her, he twisted his body so that he straddled one of her legs, with the other ankle dangling over his shoulder.

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byLothario the Great© 19 comments/ 301661 views/ 30 favorites

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