tagErotic CouplingsChicago Hotel Adventure Ch. 03

Chicago Hotel Adventure Ch. 03

byLothario the Great©

The hotel phone rang at 6:30, waking Wes up. The girl in his arms answered.

“Hi Mom,” she said. “Mmmm, thank you. I’m excited, too. I think I’ll have a chance if I get through today… Yes I sound sleepy, it’s an hour earlier here… It’s called jet lag, leave me alone… I’ll call after I get back to the hotel. Love you. Give Dad a kiss. Bye bye.”

Wes held Sylvia in a sleepy embrace. He wormed his hand up her tank top and fondled her breast, with his other arm pinned underneath wrapped across her tummy.

“You’re wearing me out,” Sylvia said.

“You love it.”

He heard her smile. “I do,” she purred.

Wes moved his hand into her sweatpants. He felt her muscles tense slightly as he ran his fingers across her smooth, bald pussy. Slowly Wes began to rub her clitoris and the soft covering flesh, growing warmer by the moment.

“Mmmmmmm,” Sylvia moaned. She pushed her pants down and spread her knees apart, allowing Wes to touch what he wished. Wes kissed her shoulder, then tunneled under the covers. He now laid on his stomach licking Sylvia’s labia and clitoris, slowly, forcefully, with the skill of a surgeon. The bottom half of his body stuck out from the bedsheets. He held Sylvia by her hips as he lapped at her with gentle repetition.

Wes realized he had never truly tasted a girl before, although he’d performed oral sex a few times. It was one thing to suck on a clit, but quite another to drink the girl like a fine wine. Sylvia’s pussy produced thick streams of cream as well as trickles of fluid, all running together and covering her pussy in a glistening film. The juices tasted like bland cream cheese spiked with a musky spice, similar to sweat but not as strong or as salty. He wanted to eat Sylvia for breakfast everyday.

“Oh Wes,” she cried softly. “Wes, god it’s so good, it’s so good… make me cum…” She stopped talking and made sensual noises. She dug her hands into Wes’s hair. He sensed her orgasm approaching.

Suddenly, the hotel room door opened. Wes moved like a cat, slipping out from under the covers, flinging himself onto the other bed. He laid on top of the bedspread and hugged a pillow, pretending to be asleep. He knew Faith couldn’t see how fast his heart was beating, but he worried anyway that she might.

“Asshole,” Faith yelled louder than she needed to. “Time to wake up. Get out of here.”

Sylvia sat up as though she’d been asleep. Wes almost laughed at the way she tried to hide that her pants were off. “I thought you left your key for Wes,” she said.

“I took it when I was here at 3:00. Besides, it’s not like you went to see the movie. Liars.” She shoved Wes. “Come on, I have to get ready.”

Wes said, “You were nice to me the first night.”

“Yeah, and Roger was nice to me the first night. Shit rolls downhill. Beat it.”

Wes sat up, still trying to act sleepy. Fatigue bore a resemblance to sleepiness, and he was definitely fatigued. Before he left the room, he had an idea. He took Sylvia’s key from the desk and left. Instead of hitting the elevator button, he went to the stairwell and looked through a crack in the door. Wes would have waited for an hour to slip back into the room, but he only had to wait about twenty minutes. Faith exited the room looking clean. She joined a group of girls at the elevators, and they all went down to breakfast. Before anyone else could leave their room, Wes silently sprinted back to Sylvia’s door and used the key to slip inside.

He heard Sylvia in the shower. Trying to stay quiet, he took off his sleeping clothes and sneaked into the bathroom, turning the light off as he entered.

“Faith, dammit, turn the light on.”

“Okay,” Wes said in a falsetto.

“Wes?” Sylvia said.

Wes locked the bathroom door and stepped into the shower. Sylvia threw her arms around his neck. They kissed passionately, as though they’d been apart for years.

“How did you know Faith was going to breakfast?” Sylvia asked between kisses.

“I didn’t. I was waiting in the stairwell.”

“That’s silly. It’s 6:45, she could have waited hours before going.”

“I would have waited hours.”

Wes plunged his hands into Sylvia’s wet hair and kissed her hard again. Their bodies slid frictionless together. Sylvia stroked Wes’s cock, which needed no persuading to firm up.

“Let’s finish what we started,” Wes said. He put his back against the tiles and braced his feet against the bottom of the tub. Sylvia lifted her leg over him and hopped up as Wes grabbed her ass.

“You’re so strong,” Sylvia said, sounding sincere. She reached down and took Wes’s cock in her hand.

“You’re beautiful,” Wes said, aiming himself at the girl’s hole.

“I need you so bad,” Sylvia said almost too softly to hear over the rushing water. Wes’s penis slid effortlessly into Sylvia’s vagina, burrowing without friction down to the testicles. Sylvia constricted her vagina walls around the thick member.

“Goddamn!” Wes groaned. “How did you learn to do that?”

Sylvia knew exactly what he meant. “I practiced on a dildo. I’ve never tried it during sex.”

“Don’t stop,” Wes begged. The girl he supported bounced up and down, performing the easiest sex Wes had ever enjoyed. She came quickly after they began, then held on tight as Wes pounded up into her. He held her close to him, savoring the sensation of her slick, naked chest and stomach rubbing up against him. The water made her ass slick and a bit difficult to hold, but he held on for dear life, and she pulled against his neck with her own arms. Suddenly Wes felt his ejaculation crashing out of his throbbing cock, sputtering into the girl.

Wes carefully bent down, allowing Sylvia to extract her genitals off of the throbbing pole, and he continued to descend until he sat in the tub. Sylvia sat with her back to him. They lay silent as the water beat down on them, giving the sensation of a relentless hot rainfall. Wes liked the feeling of his hard cock sliding against Sylvia’s back. He fondled her tits slowly and danced his fingers through her soaked hair.

“I missed you,” Wes said.

Sylvia was a long time silent before she said, “We’re becoming codependent.”

“Yeah,” Wes replied.

Another silence. Then Sylvia said, “We don’t talk anymore.”

Wes chuckled. “I noticed that.”

“This isn’t like me.”

“Me either.”

Sylvia said, “My last boyfriend only wanted sex. At first we talked about books and movies, but eventually he just wanted to do it all the time.”

“You know I’m serious about you,” Wes said swiftly, almost interrupting her. “And I’d never want to risk doing anything to make you not like me. But if you compare me to a past lover again, I’m going to get pissed.”

Sylvia laughed hard. Her boobs bounced in Wes’s hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Wes said with a smile. He sighed. “Maybe we can talk about books and movies again when we get back to school.”

Sylvia asked, “What do you think will happen?”

“When we get back?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“We’ll be lovers,” Wes said. “We’ll date and be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“I want that.”

“I want that, too.”

“But I want this, too,” Sylvia said.

“You mean the sex?”

“Don’t be crude.”

“I’m not trying to be crude,” Wes said defensively. “Your pronoun is dangling.”

“I said don’t be crude.” She laughed.

“You didn’t mean the sex?”

Sylvia sounded morose. “It’s just that I’m not used to being so free sexually. This is way more intense than anything I’ve ever done.”

“And you feel guilty because we haven’t even been on a date yet.”

“You think it’s silly.”

“Not at all,” Wes clarified. “Something amazing is happening here, and I’m happy to let it get as intense as it wants to. We can talk about our lives and our secrets, or we can talk with our bodies, or both at the same time, or just be still and enjoy each other. All I know is, I want to be near you, and I want everyone to know it.” Wes hadn’t intended to be so honest, but there were certain things said by both of them at this point that couldn’t be denied, and there was no point in pretending. It was all leading in one direction.

Sylvia said, “I can’t believe we’re talking like this.”

“Like what? So open about how we feel?”

“Not just that. I mean, holy crap, Wes, you and I must be the quietest people in the entire school! I’m so shy, and I know you’re shy, but here we are talking like we’ve known each other for decades.”

“I guess this is how it starts,” Wes said.

“But we can’t say anything yet,” Sylvia said. It was a question for Wes.

“No.” He was surprised by the anguish in his own voice. “Even if I stayed in my own room tonight so they weren’t suspicious, and then we mentioned that we were dating, no one would understand how this started because no one’s seen us together. Then we’d have to come up with another lie, and I hate lying. No, we’ll just go out like normal kids once we get back.”

Sylvia turned so her stomach pressed between Wes’s open legs. His soft penis flopped against her, and he felt a twinge as it threatened to stiffen again.

“I want to go out tonight,” she said.

“Yeah right,” Wes replied sarcastically. “A date, in Chicago.”

“We’ve got to!” Sylvia demanded. “Chicago is where we met. We can’t leave without a special night.”

“Chu’ talkin’ loco, chica. I don’t believe you’re serious.”

“Come on, Wes. You’re here now, aren’t you? What if Faith comes back? That didn’t stop you.”

“The bathroom door’s locked.”

“See? That’s thinking ahead. We’ve been having sex for two nights now, and Faith doesn’t suspect a thing. I know you could find a way, Wes, I just know it. Please? Show me the town! Please please?”

Wes kissed her face, tasted the water that continued to pour over them both. “I love being in the shower with you.”

“You’re the first boy I’ve ever bathed with,” Sylvia said.

“Awesome! You’re the first girl I’ve showered with, too.”

“So we’re like shower virgins,” Sylvia said. “I have another idea.”

“What?” Wes asked.

“Let’s shave you, too.”

“Shave? What the fuck?”

Sylvia purred. “Talk dirty to me, Wesley. I like it when you make me feel naughty.” She kissed his neck in the dark and felt his body up and down. In the darkness Wes felt her place an object in his hands. A razor?

“Come on Sylvia, you’re not serious.”

“I shaved for you, stud. Let’s get smooth together. You’ll love it.”

“You’re speaking from experience?”

“As a matter of fact, smartass, no. You’ll be the first boy courageous enough to shave for me.”

Wes let out a sigh of mock-frustration. Then he grabbed the soap and lathered his cock and nuts up but good. Sylvia waited patiently as Wes moved the razor blades over his thick dark hair, a tricky maneuver without being able to see what he was doing. He had the most trouble with the balls, but he managed to remove most of the hair without any serious nicks. After he washed himself off, Sylvia inspected the job, moving her fingertips across his loins.

“Oh damn, Wes, you’re so smooth! It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever felt.” She got on her knees and started to lick him.

“Sylvia, holy shit, I don’t think I can do this again!”

“Fine, we’ll save it for our date tonight.”

They stood and washed for real. Wes used the soap and Sylvia’s razor again on his face. He didn’t get the closest shave of his life, but he felt confident the shadow stay gone until the afternoon. He said, “Since we’re fantasizing, why don’t you tell me what your dream date will consist of?”

“I’ve got it all planned out,” Sylvia said a little too quickly. “First, we get in a cab and go to a very expensive restaurant. Then, we dance for a while, or go shopping, or something equally romantic. Finally, you take me to a lake and we go for a midnight swim in the moonlight.”

“No problem. Should I bring along a few gold bullions?”

“One for me, one for you.”

After the shower, Sylvia stepped out and turned on the light. “You’ve got to hurry,” she said. “Faith’s just eating then coming back up. Get dressed, hurry up.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned this before?”

Wes had seen Sylvia in the full brightness of the lamplight, but now, standing in the bright white blast of the bathroom lights, Wes truly saw this girl. She was shaped like a statue, the perfect rendition of an artist’s concept. Her curves, the dents defining her muscle, those two cute dimples above her ass. Wes reached around and held her breasts. The nipples were hard, and Wes could see goosebumps on her rosy areolas.

“Last semester, we shared a class.”

“I remember,” Sylvia said, looking at him in the mirror.

“I wanted to reach out and touch your hair. I love your curls. I keep thinking of naughty ways to enjoy them.”

Sylvia laughed. “We may be getting out of hand.”

“Never,” Wes said. He toweled off, then pulled on his clothes. Sylvia wrapped herself in a towel and opened the bathroom door. She peaked her head into the hallway, then waved Wes on. He leaped outside as Sylvia quietly closed the door behind him. He hit the elevator button, and when the doors opened, there stood Roger.

“Wes!”

Wes gave the elevator arrows a double-take. “Did I hit the wrong button?”

“No, I was coming to find you. What the fuck happened last night?”

Wes felt a pang of terror. “Whaddya mean?” He rode down to the lobby with Roger.

“I mean, Faith stormed off, and you sent her back up!”

“So? Did you two make up?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point. I mean, what are you and Sylvia up to?”

“Oh fuck, cut it out, Roger.”

“Well, you don’t hate each other, that much is obvious.”

“Look,” Wes said, “We didn’t have anything to do with what happened. Faith came to the room, you called, she left. That’s all I know. Why don’t you quit smacking her ass? She hates it.”

“Because she loves it!”

The elevator doors opened. Wes said under his breath, “Look, if you want Faith back in her old room, fine by me. It’s too weird sharing a room with Sylvia anyway, no matter how well we get along. We don’t know each other that well.”

“Don’t jump the gun, buddy. Nothing’s broken with me and Faith. I’m just playing with you, you know that.”

“Yeah, well, play with yourself.” Wes hit the “close door” button and waved goodbye.

Heading back up, Wes felt panic pumping through his blood like dirty water through a filter. The idea that he might not see Sylvia again tonight made his toes ache a second time.

When the buses arrived, only two filled up with contestants for the competition. The other students wore spring outfits for shopping and sight-seeing around Chicago. They were some of the best performers in the country, but the judges’ cuts had been brutal, as everyone had known they would be. Only a set number would make it to the next rounds, and that meant even the best of the best would be subject to a numbers game.

Wes wore a charcoal double-breasted suit, while Sylvia decided on a stunning red formal gown, one of those spaghetti-strap jobs, the same primary red as that found in the crayon box. Wes wondered where she’d found the courage to wear something so daring. Perhaps her coach had talked her into it, or perhaps she was feeling the same confidence he felt now that their affair had begun. Faith sat next to Sylvia, and Wes ended up sitting alone. Again they did not dare look at each other.

With two-thirds of the contestants gone, the second round went very quickly. Wes nailed the Debussy he’d brought, but after hearing a girl from UCLA play an uptempo version of a ridiculously hard Beethoven, he almost lost heart. Only six students in the piano solo division would make it to the next round, and he’d only seen those who played after him. In the end, the results listed his name, and he almost cheered. There would be very strong competitors in the final round, but at least he’d made it this far. Everyone would be talking about him when he returned.

And everyone would be talking about Sylvia, as well. She played an inspired rendition of Zoltán Kodály’s opus 8 cello solo, a very risky move considering the popularity of the piece and the naked, ambitious difficulty of the arrangement. She had reached deep down inside and found an almost mystical calm that would carry her through the octave-jumping passages without so much as a too-long pause.

Sylvia looked and sounded like a demon in her striking red dress. At one point in the performance, Wes looked around the room at the boys watching his girl. He recognized their intentions with a mixture of pride and tough-guy attitude.

Back at the buses, Sylvia and Wes were the talk of the town. Standing outside the bus, they found themselves in the unlikely position of standing at the center of the same crowd, with the others asking how it felt to make it to the finals. They stood almost back to back and yet never acknowledged that they were listening to what was being said about the other.

Another long bus ride back to the hotel, this time before lunch. Roger sat next to Wes.

“Fuck,” Roger kept muttering.

“I heard you were awesome,” Wes consoled.

“You heard right. I never acted so hard in my life. When I’m on prime time television, I’m going to call those fuckers up on the phone at three in the morning and have my agent piss on the phone. They won’t know what the hell it’s about, but they’ll know someone hates them, and that the someone knows how to swim. Fuckers.”

“That’s very inventive.”

Faith hadn’t won either, and Sylvia had her own hands full a few seats up. She was still holding Faith’s hand as they made their way off the buses. Now every student on the trip was back at the hotel, and the morning’s performers headed up to change. Wes’s instructor grabbed him by the elbow and told him how proud he was of the boy. Wes thanked the professor and asked questions about how to come at the final piece tomorrow.

“Get plenty of rest,” the professor said.

After ten minutes of discussion with the teacher, Wes went and changed into jeans and an untucked dress shirt. Down in the lobby, several groups invited him to join them, but he had plans of his own. Besides, he loved the idea of exploring Chicago alone. It would have been nice to take Sylvia along, but that might still be in the cards. In the end, spending the afternoon with anyone other than Sylvia did not appeal to him. Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia, the name kept rolling around in his brain like a bullet in a bowl.

Roger was waiting for him in the lobby. “Wes, come eat lunch with us. My treat for you winning today.” Wes smiled but said nothing; this was his usual response to people talking to him under any circumstances. Tom and Wally, two other actors, went with them. The streets of Chicago glowed under a cloudless sky. The four boys tried not to look like tourists, joking casually as they walked, but it was impossible not to look up at the gothic structures and gleaming shops in the skyscrapers and the neon signs. They crossed a thoroughfare eight lanes wide with food vendors standing in the garden-rich median. None of the guys was uncool enough to mention how beautiful downtown Chicago was.

They ate at a burger joint called Houston’s, which made Wes think the place would have a Texas theme. But the place was only named after some dude named Houston and was actually a touch high-scale. The waiter took them past a bar into a dimly-lit, wood-decored dining room. The water came with lime wedges.

“I told Wally and Tom about Faith,” Roger said. He referred, of course, to the humpty dance going on in Roger’s room.

Wally said, “And about you and Sylvia.”

“Sylvia Anderson,” Tom crooned. “Hot damn.”

“Please,” Wes said shyly.

“Come on,” Wally said. “At least tell us you caught a glimpse of something.”

“Does she masturbate?” Tom asked.

“Jesus,” Wes muttered. “Cut it out, guys.”

All three grinned and went “Oooooooh.” Roger kept it up. “Sorry to offend you, sir. We didn’t know you were in luuuuuuv.”

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