Telling Lies in the Hotel Bar

Her pussy was perfect for him, and he hoped she felt the same about his member. She was so perfectly tight and wet as she rode him that the pleasure threatened to overwhelm him within moments. He closed his eyes, bit his lip and forced it down, bringing his hands to her thighs so that he could have some input to their speed and rhythm. He regained control, but almost lost it again when he opened his eyes.

She rode him, leaning back, one arm up holding back her hair and the other hand squeezing her own succulent breast. Before she had been within herself, containing and controlling herself as he first penetrated her. But now her eyes were fixed on his and they moved as one, entirely together in the moment.

She fucked him with the same sensuality she had shown all evening, amplified. Her hips swung and dropped, and as her cunt took him, his whole length now, her eyes contained nothing but pure lust. Her gorgeous, heavy breasts bounced and swayed, seeming to glow in the half-light, as her sighs became thicker, and turned to moans as he reached up to touch them, to caress them.

Her nipples were hard between his fingers as he tugged once more, drawing a cry from her that was so sexy he felt his cock throb and jump inside her. Leaning forward once more, she returned her hands to his chest and put her weight on him this time. He felt a groan, an animal growl rising in his throat as she started fucking him faster, humping her hips, riding his throbbing cock harder and faster, harder and faster.

Through the tangle of her hair as it cascaded down over her face she caught his eye. "Fuck me," she gasped, half-command, half-plea.

His hands were back on her waist and he shifted his body just a little, then he brought his own hips up, firmer, harder than before, to meet her rhythm. It took a moment, but before they knew it they were locked in synch, fucking like their lives depended on it.

The heat between them had banished the cool of the hardwood floor and the empty stage. She rode him and he drove his solid prick into her again and again. Sighs and moans gave way to torn cries of passion, curses and exhortations.

"Fuck! Fuck me... fuck me..." her voice ringing out, echoing around the ballroom. He thought for a moment about whether the sounds of their passion would carry to other people in the hotel - but knew almost instantly that he didn't care.

"Oh God," he moaned, "Oh..." Then she leaned further over him, moving up and making him raise his hips up even more to keep fucking her dripping pussy as she brought her luscious breasts and swollen nipples to his lips, to his face. He sucked one perky nipple between her lips and she squealed, then dropped her weight back down on him, riding him harder than ever. The heat of her on him, the raw, torn pleasure in her voice, the tingle of her nails on his chest as her fingers started to curl...

His cock was the focus of his being, crying out for release. He was astonished he hadn't cum yet, in fact; and every moment, every girlish gasp, every forceful curse, every thrust, every stroke, every second he spent in her heavenly cunt felt like a miracle. Hot and wet, she squeezed him inside her, and suddenly she was slowing.

"Keep going," she gasped, almost lying on him now, their faces inches apart, and then almost matter of factly added, "I'm gonna cum. Oh fuck, oh God, I'm gonna cum..."

Somehow he kept control. Somehow he didn't shoot right in that instant, and somehow she started moving with him again, and somehow he could lean up and kiss her, tongues tangling, hot, gasping breath meeting hot gasping breath, as a cry caught in her throat, she shuddered against him and he knew she was cumming. "I'm... oh fuck..." she seemed compelled to tell him, and he had no problem with that at all.

She squeezed him inside her as the pleasure overwhelmed her, and maybe it was that, but probably it was that he just couldn't take it anymore, but two breaths later he felt that dizzying precipitous moment of no return. "Cum..." she said, but he was already there, and on the empty stage, to an audience of no-one, he cried out and came, hot, hard and desperate, inside her.

- - -

They lay side by side on the empty stage until their hearts had stopped hammering and until the cool of the hall started to seep into them again.

"Wow," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"I agree," she murmured soft, sitting up. He raised himself onto his elbows to watch her carefully adjust her panties, then retrieve her bra from the floor. Her movements were cautious now, tentative, where moments ago he'd seen every last defence come down. It was a relief when she glanced at him with a sly smile. "Thanks for that, Judah."

"Thank you," he laughed, getting to his feet to gather up his own clothes.

Back in her dress, she disappeared into the shadows stage right, and moments later emerged from a door next to the stage back onto the floor of the hall. He was facing the back of the stage trying to find his other shoe when the music started.

For a heart-stopping moment he thought that someone had turned on some music system in the hall, and that the lights were about to come up with him still half-dressed and both of them half-drunk. The music was just so perfect it could have been a recording. It took him an embarrassingly long time to understand that she was playing the piano.

She played so beautifully, with such expression that he felt like a fool for trying to impress her earlier. It was a quiet, slow piece, but not a sorrowful one, and although her head was tilted over the keys, he could tell she had her eyes closed even from there. He found his shoe, and climbed down off the stage, just listening.

After a couple of minutes she stopped, leaving off with a sigh and a smile.

"That was beautiful," he said, "and I feel like a complete idiot for playing earlier."

"Don't!" she laughed. "I love Satie. I loved it. I mean, you saw how much I loved it." She smiled even wider, "You tasted how much I loved it." He knew she wouldn't see in the darkness, but he felt the blood rush to his cheeks.

She closed the key-cover. "It was nice to have someone playing for me. I work here."

"You work in this hotel?" She nodded.

"I play the piano in the bar. You just showed up after I'd finished for the night."

He laughed. "Well, I knew you weren't really here for the conference."

"Because..." she frowned, then smiled and pointed at him, "You're here for the conference."

"Yep. So you knew there was no bar up here!"

"I did, but it was fun to play along. I have no idea where you got that idea by the way."

"Ah, doesn't matter." He had brought the vodka too, and the glasses, and he placed them on top of the piano, still thinking things through. "You must get a lot of guys trying to hit on you, I can't believe you gave me the time of day."

"This," she made a gesture taking in the whole hall but probably meaning only him, "was the first time anything like this has ever happened to me. I think it was the way you came and sat right next to me and seemed to have no clue what to do next."

"Ah, sorry, I..."

"Don't worry." She stood from the piano, took two steps and grasped the lapels of his jacket. "Plus you're very, very cute." She may have been about to pull him into a kiss but his lips were already there. "This just seemed... right," she whispered as they parted.

"It seemed very right to me," he murmured.

"But now," she smiled a little wryly, "I've missed my train. Public transport doesn't wait for those who follow their... instincts."

"I've found that before," he nodded with a grin. "Well, it so happens that I actually happen to have a room at this very hotel."

She looked up at him in what seemed to be genuine surprise, as if the thought hadn't crossed her mind. He had assumed that she had been playfully fishing for an offer that he would have been more than happy to extend, but it really looked like she had been trying to work out what she was going to do. For a split second he wondered if he had misjudged things and she was actually looking for a way to get away from him. Then she smiled.

"Are you inviting me up to your room?" She giggled.

"Well, we still have half a bottle of vodka, and it doesn't sound like you have anywhere better to be." She kissed him again.

"I've been working here two years, but I've never actually... stayed here."

"I'm not sure that your breakfast will be included but..."

"I'll have to live with that."

"It's only a single room, but I can sleep on the floor."

"I'd rather you didn't," she kissed him again, giving him exactly the response he had been hoping for.

He took the bottle and glasses, and she linked her arm into his. They crossed the vast empty floor of the hidden ballroom, picked up her shoes, turned out the lights, and went upstairs to bed.