Sensational

"Sensational," I said, whistling softly through my teeth, admiring the comely blonde as she squatted down to make her choice on the bottom shelf of the imported aisle in the wine and spirits store. I uttered it intentionally, just loud enough for her to hear.

She turned on her high-heel sandals towards me, still squatting, and was it my imagination, or did she part her legs ever so slightly? She was clad in a white blouse and a tight, tan mini-skirt that hugged those aforementioned sensational curves like, well, like a tight, tan mini-skirt should hug sensational curves.

I guessed her to be about early forties, ten years younger than I, and her tanned, athletic thighs looked like they could crack walnuts. Or my skull while I was between them. Wishful thinking, admittedly.

She fondled the neck of the bottle of the merlot sensuously in her manicured fingers, leisurely stroking, up and down, up and down. She twirled a lock of her short blonde hair off of her forehead and took stock of me. She smiled. I took that as a good sign. "Oh, you approve of the wine? Is this a good vintage?"

"The wine is only average, actually," I said, unabashedly peering right between her legs, seeing no sign of panties. I lifted my gaze upwards. She looked like a woman who took what she wanted, a sophisticated suburban slut. Or so I hoped. "It's you I was referring to. You're simply sensational. A rare vintage."

She spun some more, so that her face was now on a direct perpendicular line with my crotch, perhaps two feet away. I looked right down at her, and she licked her lips, just enough to make me wonder if I had seen it. "I'm told I'm a buttery taste, sweet, easy on the palette."

I extended my hand to lift her up. She took it in her soft palm, and our eyes never left each others. With her heels, she was almost my height. I knew instinctively that she was a feline who wanted to play with a new ball of string. "John Garman," I said simply, by way of succinct introduction. Words were secondary at this point. The primary seduction had already been established and reciprocated.

"Gloria. Gloria Will. Pleased to meet you, John Garman." Her index finger snaked out to caress my wrist. I saw the wedding band with a huge diamond on her ring finger. That never deters me. In fact, it only makes the chase more invigorating. I wasn't looking for a relationship. Just a few hot hours.

I glanced down at her basket, which was already filled with several bottles of Australian cabernet. "Entertaining tonight, are we, Gloria Will?"

"Tomorrow night. A little get-together with the girls." She rocked back and forth on her heels, flicking the bang from her forehead once more. She was hot. I was hard.

"No hubby?"

"Out-of-town on a golf trip," she made a face like she didn't care if he took his own sweet time in returning home.

"So you're free tonight?"

She threw her head back slightly and giggled. "You don't waste any time, do you?

My eyes blazed into hers, my intentions clear. "No, I do not. And, you didn't answer my question." My eyes lingered down to her legs. They were truly spectacular. One might say......sensational.

She pondered me, clearly enjoying my brazen inventory of her wares. "Perhaps. I'm feeling freer by the moment. What did you have in mind?"

Gloria knew damn well what I had in mind, in the broader sense. It was just a matter of detail now.

"Meet me in the hotel bar at the Marriott in West Conshohocken and we'll share some ideas." If I didn't know better, I'd say her nipples were now poking more noticeably from her linen blouse.

"You're bold," she said. "I like bold. So, you want me to go to a hotel with you, just like that?" I noticed that she didn't say 'no'.

"Don't get your hopes up, Gloria," I teased. "We're just going to the bar. They have the most amazing selection of New Zealand wines there. We can sample a few while telling each other dirty little secrets."

It was apparent that while Gloria was no doubt used to getting approached, she wasn't quite used to this particular approach. My theory is simple, and relatively time-tested. The more beautiful the woman, the more direct the approach. Change the intimidation factor from minute one.

Gloria glanced at her silver Movado wrist watch. "I have to run these items home and check on my daughter. I just live a few minutes from the hotel. Call it, a half-hour?"

I nodded confidently. "I'll be at the rear corner of the bar. It shouldn't be that crowded this time on a Thursday." I let my eyes wander up and down her outfit. "I wish more women would dress like that. It's, how shall I put it? Sensational. So, please, don't go changin'. I love you just the way you are, as a famous singer once said."

Thirty-five minutes later, the sensational Gloria Will strode into the nearly deserted lounge off the lobby, sexual heat radiating from her like a radioactive reactor, her sandals clicking off of the marble floor. I had already ordered and had two large goblets of Wairarapa merlot waiting for us.

She sat down and opened her mouth to speak, her legs splaying apart on the tall stool. I caught my first full flash of her silken pussy, which appeared trimmed by golden wisps of hair. I raised a finger to her lips and whispered softly, "Ssssshhh. Don't speak. Just savor."

I swished the glass around in my hand and took a healthy sip. I leaned over towards Gloria, who instinctively opened her mouth. I squirted the wine between her lips, little by little, until my tongue danced and swirled around her mouth as we consumed the wine together, holding our kiss even after she swallowed the rich red wine.

Our lips retracted, and she let out an almost inaudible sigh, her eyes still closed. I leaned into her ear. "You swallow."

Her eyes still closed, she smiled at my observation of fact. "Always," she growled huskily. "I love the taste of delicious nectar."

My hand rose under her skirt and made its way up those lean, muscled inner thighs. She accommodated my reach by spreading her long legs a bit more, almost imperceptibly, and raising her buttocks from the stool to allow the inevitable penetration of digit to cunt. Permission granted.

My fingers took a direct path to the intended target. There was a time to tease. This was not one of them. Two fingers entered her steaming pussy at the same time, one going upwards to caress the inner walls of her cavern, the other descending south to embark on a vaginal spelunking.

"My fantasy has always been to finger-fuck a beautiful stranger in public and watch her taste herself," I confessed, my north-bound finger already finding the spongy mass of her g-spot.

Not wanting to cum, though it was apparent by her cunt muscles clenching around my fingers that she was on the verge, she reluctantly reached down and extracted my fingers from her slit with an audible squishing sound. She raised her fingers to her lips and groaned. "Well, you found the right stranger."

She placed my fingers tightly together and began to lick the tips, savoring her own flavors. "Ummmm, delicious nectar indeed," she purred.

Out of the corner of my eye, I observed that our antics now had the attention of the older female bartender, and she looked none-too-pleased by the goings-on in the corner stools. Oblivious to this, Gloria took my fingers from her lips and placed them onto my own. I consumed the finger food greedily. "Mmmm, buttery taste, sweet, easy on the palette." She came as advertised.

The grey-haired tender of the bar now stood in front of us, frowning like an annoyed school-marm who had caught the kids groping in the coat closet and was sending them to the principal's office. "Perhaps you two should consider taking these amorous displays to your room, before I have to call security," she said sternly. It was not a suggestion.

"Why, that's a splendid idea, Shirley," I announced, glancing at her name badge. "I'm glad I took the liberty of reserving a suite on the concierge level." I took Gloria's hand with one of my own. "Could you please send us these glasses, and the remainder of the bottle, to Room 1021, please?" I placed a fifty on the counter, and escorted Gloria out into the lobby.

The black businessman at the other end of the bar looked like his jaw would hit the ground. "Damn, son, have yourself one FINE evenin'," he muttered as Gloria sashayed by him. "One FINE evenin', mmm, mmm."

The door to the elevator had barely closed when I fell to my knees and lifted Gloria's skirt to her navel and placed her leg over my shoulder, burying my nose in her mound without pretense. I parted the light salmon-hued folds of her outer labia and eagerly licked my way around the fleshy flaps. She was indeed delectable, and she squeezed the back of her head into her crotch to encourage my continued oral homage.

The elevator dinged and eased its speed as we approached the fifth floor. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that I was stopping my lapping, even if a posse of nuns wee getting on. As fate would have it, it was a portly young man in a light blue Marriott maintenance golf shirt. His own name badge said his name was Herb.

Herb's eyes opened to the size of a owl with night-vision difficulties. I'm sure he'd seen his share of extracurricular activities in the course of his duties, but doubted that he'd ever had the proverbial owl's-eye-view of a pussy-eating seminar, up close and personal.

Fortunately, my own instincts about Gloria proved correct, for not only did she NOT recoil in the slightest, but instead lifted her leg up onto the handrail and lifted the hem of her skirt higher, up to mid-tummy. providing Herb with unfettered visual access to my tongue snaking along the walls of her sopping cunt.

"Why, hello, Herb," Gloria cooed, nonplussed. "Do you like my pussy?" Herb nodded and blushed, tugging up his baggy maintenance trousers in which he was no doubt developing a severe case of 'woodiness'. He hurriedly pushed the button for the next available floor on which to depart. He'd already missed the sixth floor, and so had to settle for the seventh.

Portly Herb scrambled off the cab, probably moving faster than he ever did in the course of his normal duties. Before the doors closed, however, as my tongue lashing never once slowed, Gloria shouted out to him, "And do you know I just met this man less than an hour ago, Herb? Too bad you didn't get on the first floor with us."

Now, that was slutty. My kind of woman. Gloria got off on the exhibitionism, as if I hadn't already sensed that. That kind of tidbit was going to come in as very handy knowledge indeed as our escapade continued.

Bringing Gloria to the brink once again, but not over it, the doors opened on the top floor. I grabbed Gloria by her impossibly firm forty-plus-year-old buttocks and virtually wrestled her to the carpet of the tenth floor lobby, devouring her right on the corridor floor as she flopped and writhed and wrapped her strong arms around my head. Her legs spasmed wildly, stretched lewdly in a wide letter "y", which is where I was eating.

Although I did not necessarily plan it that way, Gloria's back arched high off the carpet and I felt her folds open like the petal of a blossoming flower, and with a mighty shriek which echoed down the narrow hallway, she spewed a white, milky burst of ejaculate onto my face, cumming like the literal fast-flowing river.

The door to Room 1018 opened a crack , no doubt to determine the source of the ear-splitting screams that could not have been mistaken other than anything than a woman in the throes of a volcanic orgasm. But in the middle of the hallway!?!?

I looked up from between Gloria's legs, my face covered in her cum, and saw an attractive short-haired brunette, perhaps mid-thirties, dressed in a yellow cotton robe that exposed another set of toned legs (besides the ones now wrapped around neck). Even from my vantage point prone on the carpet and saturated by Gloria's fluids and aroma, I could smell the scent of strawberry shampoo or body lotion on the curious occupant.

Gloria rose up from the floor and smiled slyly at the woman. "Got a little carried away, hun, sorry about that. But a woman's gotta cum where a woman's gotta cum, know what I mean?"

The sexily shy brunette first tried to disguise a look of disgust, but her raven eyes betrayed her with a twinkle of lust. She eased the door shut, never taking her eyes off of Gloria's exposed golden triangle, dripping with after-shocks of cum. She sequestered back to her own room, no doubt prepared to indulge at some enthusiastic self-pleasure after witnessing the public cunninlingus exhibit.

Finally, after seemingly threatening to be discovered by the entire populi of the hotel, Gloria and I gathered ourselves and stumbled down the hall to our suite.

Gloria tugged at my crotch, which she hadn't even touched before now, and nibbled on my ear. "She was kinda hot in a preppy sorta way, stranger. What do you say that maybe we ask her to join us in a bit?"

Talk about music to my ears! I slid the card into the slot and pushed Gloria inside. "You like women, too, do you, darlin'?"

Gloria responded by dropping to her knees in front of me, and pushing me against the door, unbuttoning her blouse with one hand while extracting my cock from its zippered confinement with the other. "Mmmmm, I do, baby, I do. But not as much as a good piece of cock," she muttered, examining my still growing dick as it emerged from its shell.

She began to teasingly lick the underside of my shaft while yanking my pants down to my ankles roughly. "Oooh, nice. I knew you'd be a big boy. You can't have that much confidence to pick up a married woman and not have a giant eel down there." She began to suck hungrily on my mushroom head. "Oh, and I love seafood. Buttery...and sweet. Yum."

I just leaned back and enjoyed Gloria's talented mouth, resisting the urge to grab the back of her skull and face-fuck the married hottie. Gloria kept slathering my cock with huge gobs of saliva and then slithered it back into her mouth, reminiscent of the spaghetti-eating scene from the animated movie 'The Lady and the Tramp'. A fitting comparison, I mused, watching Gloria the Lady Tramp consume her seven-inch main course.

After five minutes or so of her expert slobbery cocksucking, I was ready to blow unless I put an end to this particular phase of our now hour-long relationship.

It was time to fuck, and to be watched.

I picked her up, one hand gripping her formerly well-coiffed hair, the other cupping her chin, reminding her unequivocally who was to remain in control. Me.

I led her to the plate-glass window which was directly across from the Morgan Stanley high-rise on Fayette Street. I pulled down her skirt which somehow had miraculously stayed on thus far. Gloria took the cue, spinning around so that her tits were mashed against the double-paned wide window with the panoramic view of Montgomery County.

She put both palms on the window and spread her legs wide, her sandals still on her feet. She had transformed from the letter 'y' on the hallway floor to the letter 'X' in front of the window.

Twenty-four letters left in which to contort her, I thought, slapping my dick against perhaps the tightest ass I have ever seen on a middle-aged woman. Gloria was reveling in the pending assault now, kindred exhibitionist souls wanting to be witnessed by as many voyeurs as we possibly could.

"Fuck me," she hissed over her shoulder. "Fuck me with that big fucking cock for all to see."

So I did. Ruthlessly. Relentlessly. With each violent thrust into her vice-like cunt, my big testicles pounded against her ass, causing them to turn pinker and pinker with each successive ball slap. I grabbed Gloria's hair once again, and tugged her neck backwards so I could kiss her, our only kiss since we shared the wine in our mouths.

Hey, just where was that fucking wine anyway, I suddenly asked myself in the middle of the cunt-pounding. After all, I had a fifty dollar tip invested in this room service delivery.

My mind was snapped back to the task at hand. While still kissing Gloria as I fucked her urgently, I saw a scene that we had both no doubt been wanting to evoke. I released my mouth from Gloria's and steered her head towards the office building directly across the street.

One-by-one, apparently in a series of inter-office tweets, and texts, and e-mails and phone calls, the lucky workers of Morgan Stanley who were working late this evening pressed themselves into various offices to watch our torrid exercise. One group of men burst into applause, and although we could not hear them, we saw then clap and give us the thumbs-up, as they gave themselves high-fives.

In yet another window, which looked to be a regal executive sweet from the look of the decor within, a fit dark-haired man in his fifties had already taken out his cock, and he quickly shot his seed onto the plate glass window. Even from across the street, we could see it was a prodigious burst. The janitorial staff would earn their money tonight. Hope they had a squeegee.

An older secretary-type wanked herself on a plush leather chair in yet another window on a higher floor, her fingers vigorously plunging in and out of her cunt as her mouth was open in a silent 'O'. Another letter, this was like sexual ABC's.

The dual sensors of watching while being watched was more than I could stand. Just before erupting with a hearty roar, I spun Gloria around, pushed her again to her knees, and taking her cue, she wrapped her luscious tits around my cock as I came all over her firm globes, splattering tiny pellets of cum onto her chin and cheek and collarbone.

Though we could still not hear them, the stockbrokers and investment advisors across the street went berserk, like a Super Bowl touchdown had been scored, banging on the windows and jumping up and down with glee. The secretary licked her own fingers and coyly blew us a kiss.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Ah, the wine, perfect. A refresher before round two, I thought.

Fully expecting a young delivery boy, Gloria bounded to the door, still naked and freshly covered with semen, wanting to shock the youngster with the best non-monetary tip he would ever receive.

Instead, as she swung the door open while I stood with cum still oozing from my half-hard dick in front of the window, we went from 'shockers' to 'shock-ees'.

There, with a cart containing an iced bucket of half-open Wairarapa merlot, stood the cute brunette from Room 1018.

"I intercepted the delivery boy, I hope you don't mind. He was rather easy to persuade," she said, opening her robe to display a tight, petite body clad in a black camisole. "My name is Amber, by the way," she said in a foreign accent that sounded to be halfway around the world. "I'm from New Zealand."

She leaned over and ducked her head to Gloria's chest and began to lick my still warm cum off of Gloria's breasts.

"Ummm, buttery." Amber purred. "And sweet."

Round two was already starting.

Sensational.