Chicago Hotel Adventure Ch. 05

Throughout the blast of ejaculation from Sylvia, Wes continued to pump his own semen inside the girl, one thick pleasurable rope after another. When the spray stopped, a big splash of liquid flowed out of Sylvia's pussy through the same opening, as though a glass of fluid had been unturned.

When it was over, they collapsed together in a heap on the tiles, side by side, with Wes's cock still buried inside Sylvia. They breathed hard through open mouths, coughing a little. They embraced, not caressing but simply holding, careful not to crush or be crushed. Sylvia could not keep her pussy from contracting and releasing, sending shivers through Wes, each time spilling a small amount of semen into the space between his penis and her pussy walls.

The girl's head fell against the boy's head. He lifted her face to look at her and realized she was close to passing out. She opened her eyes dizzily. Wes slowly pulled his penis, beginning to soften, from between her tight pussy walls. "Oooooooooh!" she moaned, startled. She was obviously very sensitive. After the penis was out, Sylvia fell onto her back and closed her eyes. Wes also fell backward, exhausted. For only a few minutes, they both fell asleep there. Then, Wes crawled to his feet, went to the counter and drank from the faucet, then filled a glass with water. Helping the tired girl sit up, he handed her the cool liquid, which she gulped down slowly but eagerly.

"Help me up," Sylvia pleaded.

Wes put her on her feet. She groggily walked to the shower, opened the glass door and turned on the water. She stepped inside and stood under the stream. Wes followed her inside and realized she'd left the water a bit cooler than the usual comfort level, which was perfect. Sylvia's skin still burned. Wes rubbed her body with soap. She stood still and allowed it.

Wes said, "I'm starving."

Sylvia laughed tiredly. "Fuck. I completely forgot."

"Fuck!" Wes grabbed Sylvia by the face and kissed her hard and familiar.

They washed each other in silence. Wes ran to their luggage to grab shaving razors, dripping water everywhere. Sylvia cleared stubble from her legs and crotch, and Wes did the same to his own genitals and face. They slipped and slid against each other, kissing.

Stepping out feeling refreshed and clean but no less exhausted, they put on the thick white bathrobes and made their way to the living room. Sylvia collapsed in front of the fireplace as Wes picked up the phone. "Room service," he said. "Tell me your specials. Hmm, no. Do you have any beef? Steak. Protein would do us good."

"Wes, you're bad," Sylvia said without opening her eyes.

"Right. Yes, steak. How to cook? As the chef recommends. Let's see, send a bowl of steamed vegetables and a fruit plate. No potatoes or pasta. Do you guys have any beer? Yeah, that's perfect. Just sent up six longnecks. Can you give me a total? Oh, sure. Of course it is. Alright, thanks." He hung up the phone. "It's paid for," he told Sylvia.

"Of course it is," she said.

Wes wasted a few moments deciding what to say next, then decided to stay silent. The fake fire was eerily silent. If Wes had been camping with friends back in Montana, the burning logs would have crackled and snapped as they fueled the flames, but if these gas logs even hissed, Wes couldn't hear it. But fire warmth felt the same, and he basked in it with the girl in his arms. She snuggled tiredly up against his chest and watched the fire. Her toned calves were exposed, and Wes moved his hand from her forearm to her leg. He allowed his sense of touch to listen to the girl, first caressing her the length of the limb, then simply resting on her outside thigh. Wes touched the tip of his nose to Sylvia's hair and smelled her; even through the recent dose of shampoo, her scent came through clearly, a mixture of feminine molecules without names.

Sylvia rubbed Wes's skull. Wes knew she liked the way her fingers felt in his close-cropped hair, and she knew he liked having his scalp itched with her short nails. She languidly ran her nails across his skull. Wes leaned further forward and kissed Sylvia's neck. She responded with a purr of approval. Wes didn't move his hand on Sylvia's leg, but he squeezed her muscle. Softly, romantically, Wes continued to lap at Sylvia's strong neck with his tongue.

Without any announcement, Sylvia pulled the belt on her robe and opened it, exposing herself to the room, but she did not change her position; the oral neck massage felt too good to halt. Wes kept licking her neck, then included her inner ear in the excursion. Sylvia moaned and lifted her fingers to her nipples. She pinched herself gingerly, breathed deeply. Wes moved his free hand up her leg to her loins, upward to her tummy. He relished the movement of muscles inside her stomach.

Sylvia turned her head up to kiss Wes. They smooched with a profound tenderness. She kept turning, pulling her arm free from the robe as she flipped onto her stomach. Once in position, she opened Wes's robe to reveal his hardening cock. She pressed her slightly open lips to the head, wetting it, sucking on it.

Wes took his arms out of his own robe and dropped his body on its side, so that he lay beside the girl on the sofa but with his head beside her lower body. He shifted and shuffled until Sylvia was lying on top of Wes's body, disrobed, blowing his cock as she opened her legs to receive his face. Wes dipped his tongue inside Sylvia's warm pussy, pushing a shallow distance to find the delicious splash of secretion inside.

They sucked and licked in that way for nearly half-an-hour, exploring each other with their hands. Wes liked the way his palms cupped Sylvia's ass cheeks, and he rubbed her back frequently. Sylvia created friction between her nipples and Wes's stomach, mashing her boobs against him time and again. She held onto Wes's lifted legs like handles and used only her mouth to coax his penis toward an orgasm. Her own feet pointed into the air starting at the knees, as though she were on the phone. She ground her warm pussy down into Wes's face, poking her hole with his nose, hitting her clitoris with his lower lip and the jawbone in his chin.

Wes enjoyed thrusting his cock gently up against Sylvia's throat, where her muscles constricted against the head. Sometimes she would suck so hard her teeth bit into his cock, and Wes would pull at her curly hair to remind her to be gentle, followed by a particularly vicious tongue lashing against her pussy, for which she showed approved with a vicious suck of her own.

When Wes increased the speed of his thrusting, Sylvia took it as a sign to take things to the next level. She propped herself up on one elbow and gripped Wes's terribly hard cock with the other hand, then started pumping him. Wes groaned and started eating Sylvia with vigor. Sylvia slid her creamy slit up and down Wes's open mouth as she fist-fucked Wes's cock hard. The intensity continued to build.

A doorbell rang, startling them both. They quit pounding each other but stayed frozen in place. Then Sylvia said "Hurry," as she got up from the couch.

She plopped down in the shorter sofa and started masturbating hard and fast, her legs spread wide, her hand rubbing the sweaty places on her abdomen and torso where she had pressed her body to Wes's. Wes grabbed his own cock and started jerking off. Twenty seconds later, he ejaculated all over himself, sighing softly as he collapsed back against the sofa. Sylvia whimpered and rubbed her pussy faster. She had three fingers inside her hole, and the other hand pounded the hood over her clitoris like a machine. The visitor rang again. Sylvia trembled, shook, sank into the cushions. She continued to rub the swollen lips of her pussy but did not press as hard. Her rubbing slowed, and she finally stopped, her eye closed. She breathed steadily through pursed lips.

Wes put his bathrobe on and approached the elevator door that was the suite entrance. A button flashed, and Wes pushed it, opening the door. Inside stood a bellman with a cart, containing two covered plates and a bucket of beers. He might have been in his late twenties.

"Your order, sir," the man said. He noticed the clothes strewn all around the foyer, including the panties beside his foot, but although his eyes went a little wide, he said nothing. He handed Wes a pad. "Sign here, please."

"Thanks," Wes said. He signed the slip, and the guy went back into the elevator.

"Steak and beer!" Sylvia exclaimed with delight. Then she leapt from her sofa and twirled around the room, singing, "Steak and beer, steak and beer, my boy-friend has steak and beer, steak and beer, steak and beer..." Her spinning form floated gracefully through the dark room. She waved her hands in the air and kicked her legs all around. There was a pattern to the dance, and Wes realized she'd had training of some kind. She sang and danced like a child, her naked body zipping to and fro. "Steak and beer!" she declared with a shout, and she threw open the glass patio doors and stepped into the freezing rain. She leaned against the stone wall that bordered the patio, her torso exposed above the wall, and yelled into the rain-drenched air of the night, "MY BOYFRIEND HAS STEAK AND BEER!" Then she ran back inside, closed the glass doors, squealed loudly, hurdled the sofa, grabbed her bathrobe and put it on. She sat close to the fire and rubbed warmth back into her arms.

"Boy-servant, bring me steak and beer," she said with a commanding air.

Wes marveled at how much he loved her in that moment. He brought the food plates and beer bucket to the floor where his girlfriend sat. They ate the meat with their fingers, licking hot grease from their digits. Each plate contained a steamed vegetable bowl filled with baby carrots and snow peas, and each had an apple. The act of eating was not in itself libidinous, but it strengthened the bond between the lovers, a shared physical act full of sensual opportunities – the tactile slickness of the grease, the crunch of the apples followed by a spray of water from the bite. They talked as they gobbled down the food.

"So how many orgasms do you think we've had this trip?" Wes asked.

"Oh jesus," Sylvia said. "There's no way to count." But she leaned back on her arms as braces, palms down on the carpet, and stared at the ceiling, pondering the question. "I was close that first night just from you kissing me, before the clothes even came off. Real close."

"We went at it hard that first night. I'm a little embarrassed thinking about it."

"Embarrassed?"

"I mean, come on, Sylvia, it's just not right to meet a girl for the first time and... do... to her... what I did to... you."

"Felt right to me," Sylvia said, but she looked away as she sucked her beer. All things considered, it would have been a sad comment on the force of destiny in the world if they HADN'T ended up fucking each other almost to death during the trip, but from a purely social standpoint, Wes was right. Two shy kids were never supposed to violate each other so quickly and comprehensively, were not supposed to fall in love so recklessly.

Wes started adding up the orgasms. "Okay, so one each from the oral sex, then we had sex on the bed..."

"Then the chair... No wait, first the bed again, then the chair..."

"Did we fuck in the shower?"

"Not until the morning, right? Shit, I can't remember." Sylvia absent-mindedly stroked the cleavage exposed by her open robe. "But we screwed in the dark the next morning, in the tub."

"Then we did it in the steam tunnel... then we came back that night and I fingered you on the bed..."

"Goddamn, that was magnificent. Just like this morning. Can you do that to me again tonight? It helps me sleep like a baby."

"Hey, are you counting?"

"I thought you were." Sylvia bit into her apple, then spoke around the food. "So, about five for me the first night, then two the next day, then something like ten right when we got back, then we made love for a few hours, and I must have come about three times."

"Oh shit! I just remembered."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just remembered, we woke up in the middle of the night that first night and sort of molested each other in our sleep."

"That's right! And I squirted out my pussy for the first time."

"Ohhhh," Wes moaned. Something about the way Sylvia said that phrase made his cock hard. He wanted to open his robe and expose his cock to the heat of the fireplace, and since he and his girl were now in the habit of doing whatever they wanted whenever the thought came to them, he let his robe fall open. His cock had filled with blood and was pointing at his face.

Sylvia crawled over to Wes with all the ceremony of a bowler taking her turn at the lane. As she chomped another bite of her apple, she took Wes's cock in her other hand and played with him. "Then we ended up at the pool," she said as she started stroking the boy's cock.

Wes lied back on the floor and let the girl have her way with him. "Then the sauna," he said, and although his voice did not sound strained, he did keep his eyes closed.

"Oh god, the sauna," Sylvia said. She threw the apple remnants toward the fireplace bricks, leaving the core on the carpet. Her hand, following some unheard call, pushed her robe open and played with her exposed nipples. Wes reached up and gently pinched Sylvia's nipple, so that both tits enjoyed attention. "That sauna was so fucking hot, Wes. I've never been that wet before, and in so many ways."

Wes moved his hips up and down, fucking Sylvia's fist as it gripped him lightly. He pulled his arms out of the bathrobe as he sat up. Sylvia leaned forward and kissed him, and she allowed Wes to pull her own robe away. His hand made its way down her firm tummy to her loins, and Sylvia opened her legs to allow him entrance. Wes fondled her labia, now beginning to warm and swell, and he dipped his finger tenderly inside the hidden space where her hard clitoris protruded. Sylvia showed her gratitude by licking Wes's mouth hard. They manually masturbated each other for a few minutes, both remembering their favorite moments of the trip, including the current one.

Wes asked, "Do you really want me to fuck you in all those places in the suite?"

"No," Sylvia moaned. "Just make love to me now. We'll fall asleep together."

Wes disengaged from the girl and lifted her into the air, her arms around his neck, his arm under her back and knees. He felt strong now that he'd eaten and rehydrated. He carried her into the bedroom, where the lights were still out. Sylvia reached out as they passed the wall and turned off the fireplace, so that the only light came from outside, where the rain continued to pour relentlessly upon the guilty borough of Chicago.

The boy laid his girl in the bed, crawled on top of her and pulled the covers up around them both. He kissed Sylvia as he had never kissed a girl before, promising her everything, demanding nothing. She responded with caresses so tender they made Wes want to cry from shame, for he did not feel he deserved the love he was being shown. He dropped his body onto hers, and the flesh of their bodies continued to communicate in the same way, giving and taking, saying important secrets. Wes relished the feeling of Sylvia's wet pussy slit against his hard shaft, her flat tummy against his, the feeling of her nipples flicking against his. They kissed and kissed and kissed.

Sylvia lifted her pelvis and slipped her cream-covered hole over the tip of Wes's head. Once he was aimed correctly, Wes pushed inside her. Sylvia inhaled but made no sound. They made love, and Wes felt his mind both dull and sharpen at the same time, as though he were looking through a veil in the world to some truth beyond. Lovers were supposed to feel like this, he now knew, this was the goal of existence. He had stumbled upon a profound fact of life: Holding a naked girl in your arms isn't just the best part of living; it's the point.

Wes felt the orgasm building in his cock, and he didn't stop the cum from flowing as soon as it started. There had been times throughout the trip when they both tried to come together, but now he was past decision-making. His body wanted to fill this girl's uterus with sperm, and so he did. Sylvia slipped her hands down to Wes's ass and pushed his cock deeper inside her, squishing cream out between their two bodies, driving the head of his cock up against her cervix. His sperm exploded against her pussy muscles and mixed with her own feminine liquids. Their bodies slipped and slapped in a sweaty rhythm beneath the hot sheets.

As Wes pulled his throbbing cock out of the girl, he pulled her on top of himself and kissed her mouth. His hands moved up and down her body, in a deliberate attempt to make her hot internally. He moved his kisses to her neck and his hands to her thighs, lightly stroking her in both places. Sylvia's clitoris pushed against Wes's still hard cock, and she came. Before the orgasm could end, Wes slipped two fingers inside her juicy vagina and stroked her deep. She exploded in another orgasm, more a continuation of the first, and her face moaned into the pillow.

For the next forty minutes, Wes played with the girl, nibbling on her nipples, licking between her legs, sucking her fingers and toes. Sometimes Sylvia would come with a soft whimper, but more often, she climaxed loudly, like a grenade bursting then leaving silence in its wake.

"When you played the cello this afternoon," Wes whispered very softly in the girl's ear, not breaking the rhythm of his hands, "I remembered a moment from my childhood. I was there, in the past; even the smells returned. I love you for doing that to me."

Sylvia did not respond with words, but with sighs and coos. "Ahh... ahh... ahh..." She voiced her pleasure, thanking him, encouraging him, but also mindless in her desire so she could not control her sounds. Orgasm after orgasm washed over her like an ocean wave, burning hot unlike the cool sea.

Eventually, Wes drifted toward sleep, his tongue lapping at Sylvia's earlobe. Sylvia was close to passing out, and her body spooned back against Wes of its own accord.

At 9:00 the next morning, the phone rang. Neither student had moved from the cuddling position where they first fell asleep, and it was a true pleasure for Wes to find the nude girl curled up in his arms. He tried not to bump Sylvia as he reached across to the phone.

"Hello?" he said, groggily.

"It's Mr. Craftsman," said the voice on the phone.

Wes instinctively sat up in the bed, as though the benefactor had physically entered the room and could see the state Wes was in. This helped him to wake up a little. "Yes sir," Wes said at his most formal, ridding himself of the Montana drawl that was never very noticeable to begin with.

"I'm sorry to call so late, but I need you two to get dressed as quickly as possible. I have a private jet waiting to take you back to school, and I'm afraid we need to put it on the runway before 10:00. Can you meet the limo in fifteen minutes?"

There was only one right answer, and Wes gave it. "Yeah, we're getting up."

"Go go go!" Mr. Craftsman said, then hung up. The matter was settled.

Panic set in. Wes touched Sylvia gently on the shoulder. "Sylvia, wake up." But the girl did not awaken, so Wes pushed her harder. This time she turned over, pushing her lips into a pouty, sleepy smile.

"Hey you," she purred.

"We have to meet the limo in fifteen minutes," Wes said as he stood from the bed. He and Sylvia had sweated heavily between the sheets all night, and that could only mean they both smelled like exertion and the fluids they shared. He was reluctant to leave without a shower, but from the lobby to the limo to the private jet, they would encounter only the bare minimum of strangers. Nothing for it but to throw on clothes and run for the elevator.