Bar Belle

It's been a hell of a long day. I've made three conference presentations since 8AM, which is insane! They went well, but I'm drained from the constant smiling and networking. I really should have just gotten in my PJs and gone to bed. But it's a gorgeous hotel, and I thought a drink might help me settle down. As I take a seat at the bar, and order my G&T, I don't even glance around. I just zone out, wait for my drink, and try to breathe.

A few sips in, I sense someone take the stool next to me. I shift a little, just to make sure I'm not leaning into someone else's space. I don't turn my head, I don't make eye contact. I honestly don't know if it's a man or a woman who sat down. Several minutes tick by, and I'm starting to loosen up. The drink is helping, the breathing is helping.

Then, all of a sudden, a strong male hand lightly rests on my right arm. What's that about? I slowly turn my head, and meet his eyes. Oh, those gorgeous eyes! His too-long hair is nearly covering the left one, and I have to stop myself from brushing it out of the way. We just look at each other for a beat, and then a slow and sexy smile breaks out across his face. Oh my; that is one gorgeous face! I instantly feel myself blush. Why is this man looking at me like that, with his hand still on my arm? My head instantly starts to spin. I say to myself, "Oh, just relax. He probably wants to ask about the local cuisine or something. He's not picking you up. That doesn't actually happen in real life." At least not to me.

His smile has not faded. In fact, it's gotten bigger and brighter. I can't help it. I smile back. And I speak: "Hi." "Hello, gorgeous." What? Who? Me? He's clearly talking to someone behind me. I have to stop myself from looking over my shoulder. But he's staring into my eyes, and his hand is still on my arm. He introduces himself, and asks my name. I'm fairly sure I gave the right one.

He offers to buy me another drink and I accept. This is very interesting, and while I'm exhausted and I know a second drink will make me tipsy, I'm so curious where this is going. He orders for us both, then turns in his seat a bit so he's facing toward me. He removes his hand...darn! But then almost immediately replaces it...on my thigh. Oh, well then...

We chat a bit, about what I'm not sure. Mostly we smile, and stare. His hand moves a bit up and down my thigh. Nothing too risqué, but even I can tell it's not an innocent touch. He's asking permission to do more. How do I give it?

I turn slightly in my chair, and let my legs open a bit. Was that right? I guess so, because now his touches are more like caresses, and his hand travels less up and down, and more side to side, going a little further toward the inside of my leg each time. Oh, that feels heavenly. Strong hands, soft touch. I like this. I want to return the favor. I lightly touch his knee. He doesn't flinch. In fact, it makes his touches get a little stronger, a little bolder.

After a few minutes, he leans forward. He whispers, not quite in my ear, "I want you." I smile. I lean a little further toward him and whisper in response, "Ditto."

I didn't know his smile could get any bigger, but it did. The sparkle in his eyes intensifies, and he says, seemingly involuntarily, "mmmmmm." So quietly I almost missed it. But I didn't. We finish our second drinks and, without hesitation, he tosses cash on bar, grabs my hand, and stands up. He tugs on my arm just a little, a subtle invitation to stand with him. He didn't have to ask twice. He asks if I have a coat; I say no, I'm staying in the hotel. The grin again, and as we walk out of the bar, hand in hand, he actually says it...quietly, in my ear this time: "your room or mine?"

As we stroll to the bank of elevators, I smile at him and point to myself ‐ my way of saying "my room." I want to be able to freshen up ‐ and I don't want to have to leave the comfy bed after whatever it is we're about to do... I press the button for my floor and don't quite know where to look. I'm getting nervous. He senses it and squeezes my hand a little harder. I smile.

As we exit the elevator, I start to turn left toward my room, but he pulls me right. Huh? Is his room on the same floor and he didn't understand what I'd signaled? Soon, he pulls me into a little alcove, where there is a huge window overlooking the city. I never noticed this before, but it's a beautiful view. He places me against the window, and stands directly behind me. His hands are on my hips, and he leans forward to whisper in my ear. Oh, I do love his whispering! He says, so quietly, let's just enjoy the view for a moment and give you a moment to relax. Nice.

He may be looking out the window, but his hands are roaming my body. Lightly. Teasingly. From my hips they wander up my sides. Then briefly around to my breasts, then my neck. He stops to massage my shoulders for a moment, just lightly, but it's working; I'm relaxing. He leans forward further, pressing himself into my back. He asks "are you feeling better?" I just say "uh huh..." It's all I can manage. As I continue to look at the glittering lights, he says "oh, so lovely." But he says it while his hands are caressing my ass, and his head is no longer by my shoulder facing the window. So maybe he's not referring to the view? His hands continue to wander, now down the back of my thighs. It almost tickles, but not quite. I'm so enjoying his touch. More whispering in my ear. How does he know that turns me on so much? This time, "ready to head to your room?" I just shake my head.

We turn, once again hand in hand, and walk in the opposite direction. When we get to my room, I suddenly remember ‐ but how could I have forgotten? It's number 444, which I immediately took as a sign of luck when I checked in. At the time, I figured the luck was about my presentations, and it made me feel more confident. Now I think it might have never been about the conference at all.

As we enter the room, I start to turn on the lights. He puts his hand up to stop me. It's then I notice the room is bathed in glorious moonlight. Perfect. I quickly lower my hand and move further in. I'm nervous again. I want a little time to get ready. He seems to sense this. He says "why don't you take a few minutes to do whatever you want, and I'll run to my room to grab a few essentials?" Perfect. I nod, and expect him to leave. But he doesn't. He pulls me to him, quickly but not roughly. One arm goes around my waist, the other cups my cheek. He leans in and every so lightly kisses my lips. Then whispers "I'll be right back. I promise." Again, I can manage nothing but a nod ‐ and a smile. Until suddenly I'm feeling bold, and without much thought, I put my hand behind his head and pull him back to me, and kiss him. Not too deeply, but more than the light brush of a moment ago. I say "Hurry." Oh, that sexy grin is back! This time he only nods. We stare into each other's eyes for a short beat, and then he turns and is gone.

I just stand there, lost in the moment, until I remember why I wanted him to give me a few minutes in the first place! I showered after my last conference session, so I just need to freshen up. As I'm doing so, I think about what to wear. Do I stay fully dressed? Greet him buck naked? It's not like I packed any lingerie for the trip. But wait. I'd thrown a black cami in my bag at the last minute, in case anything turned out to be a little too low cut for the conference. New clothes so often pose unexpected challenges, and with so many presentations, I wanted to be prepared. I was never so grateful for my attention to what to could wrong as at that moment! I dig out the camisole, and my favorite pair of black panties, once again praising myself for having switched to nothing but sexy undies last year, just because they make me feel great. I was set!

As I start to wonder what to do with myself while waiting, there is a knock at the door. Already? I guess my "Hurry" had an impact. He's back. And I can't wait to find out what's in store. As I pad over to the door, in my black panties and cami, my heart is racing. I have no idea what he has in mind, and the mystery is a huge turn‐on. I've been in a hotel room with a man, but never someone I met less than an hour ago. Never someone where we didn't talk about what was going to happen. Never someone about whom I know so little.

I open the door just enough to let him slip through. As the door closes, I just stand there. I have no idea what to do. Apparently, I don't need to. He tells me "Go stand over by the window. Please." I love the please. But I really really like that he's taking the lead. I do as told, and go stand by the window. He asks me to turn around, slowly. I start to feel the familiar self‐consciousness, but I try hard to push it away. He's here because he wants to be. He picked me knowing nothing about my wit, or vocabulary, or anything other than he liked what he saw. Just go with it, I tell myself. Enjoy it. Trust it.

I slowly turn in the glow of the moon, and he can't contain his murmurs of appreciation. He doesn't whistle (thank goodness!) but his sounds and few words make it clear he likes what he sees. I want to apologize for not having sexier lingerie with me. I want to ask why he chose me. I want to ask what he has in mind. But I force myself to just smile, and keep turning, and try not to think so fucking much. "Stop." He has me standing facing him, and now he's striding across the room toward me. He has that look, the hungry look I've seen a few times before, and never truly believed was for me. Today, I'm nearly convinced.

He closes the space between us quickly He's right by me in what seems like an instant, and then he grabs me. This time, the kiss is not a light brush. It's a crush of lips, and then the tip of his tongue. And then more. He is nearly devouring me, but in a somewhat gentle way. Is that even possible? I love it. I feel truly and well desired, just from these kisses. But then his hands wander my body again. Insistent, but not greedy. Strong but not rough. My head is spinning and I fight to focus, so I don't miss a moment of this amazing feeling. He pulls me closer, tighter to his body. I feel the ridiculously strong muscles in his arms and thighs. I feel he's already hard. I feel...wanted. And that spurs me on. I start my own hands roaming, first his face and hair, then his shoulders and arms.

We are now a tangle of limbs that can't move fast enough, cover enough territory. It's like we are learning each other through Braille, using our fingers and hands (and mouths and tongues) to read each other's stories. Suddenly, he grabs my ass, pulls me tight against his hard cock, and walks me backwards to the bed. Before I realize, I'm lying on the bed, my feet nearly reaching the floor, with him straddling me. He never stops kissing me or touching me, as he pushes the camisole up, exposing my breasts. Oh, the look on his face as he takes in the first sight of them. I want that look seared into my mind, to pull up any time I feel less than confident. Adoration mixed with primal need; it's possibly the best look I've ever seen. But soon looks are not what we're about, as he starts to massage one breast and he leans down to suck on the other. Oh, I love that he doesn't go immediately for my nipple. Did he find an owner's manual on me somewhere? He teases and squeezes and licks and sucks, and then switches, and switches again, until both breasts feel lavished as never before.

I honestly have no idea if that was 2 minutes or 20. I just know that it felt incredible, and send sparks all over my body. I'm sure I'm dripping with desire. As if he read my mind, he hand suddenly moves down to my panties, and even from the outside he can tell how wet I am. His eyes sparkle and he whispers "Oh my, you're so wet. For me." I shake my head so he knows yes, this is a direct response to him, and how much he's turning me on. In one swoop, with one strong arm, he removes my panties completely. He may even have torn them; I don't know and truly don't care. I just need to feel him touch me. And oh, how he touches me. First soft and light, then a bit harder, running his thick finger up and down my slit, swirling around my clit. We can both hear how wet I am, and the smell of my arousal starts to perfume the air. Oh, his touch feels amazing. Soon he's teasing my entrance, around and around, then slipping in just the tip of his finger. Then around the entrance and back to my clit. The sensations are changing faster than my brain can register, so I just lay back and try to feel. I stare into his eyes and he stares into mine, except when he dips his head to suck on my breast and nipples. But he always comes back to my eyes. It's intoxicating, combined with the breast play and his fingers. Just when I think the teasing will kill me, he thrusts hard into me with first one, then two fingers. He again seems to know my body instantly, fucking me hard and deep the way I love. I can't keep quiet, and it's just not little murmurs anymore. I am moaning loudly, calling out to God, and making sure he knows just how fabulous he's making me feel.

My mind starts to drift to how badly I want to make him feel this good, but I pull myself back to enjoy the moment. I know there will be time to please him, and right now, I honestly believe all he cares about is my pleasure. I never really got that concept before. It's heavenly. The forceful thrusting continues, peppered with softer insertions, and exits to touch me everywhere. I can feel myself building. Oh, I hope it happens. It often doesn't, and I don't want him to be disappointed. Hell, I don't want to be disappointed. But this feels incredible, perfect, just right. Anything more is just a bonus. I try not to focus on cumming, even though my body is craving release. I urge myself to enjoy the sensations, the looks, the idea of being pleasured totally selflessly. And I (mostly) manage to do that. And then, when I least expect it, without having to work for it, without even any warning, it hits me like a freight train. A huge, full‐body orgasm that has me convulsing and screaming and seeing stars. Oh. My. God. That was like nothing else I've experienced. I feel cool, and like I'm floating. I feel utterly calm and totally energized. He has just given me the most powerful climax of my life. He leans down, kisses me sweetly, and says "That was a truly beautiful sight. Thank you." He's thanking me? I can't help it, I say it out loud: "You're thanking me???" He laughs, but not at me. He just smiles, nods his head, and kisses me again, then rolls on his side, pulls me to him, and wraps his arms around me as I burrow into him and enjoy the afterglow.

I stayed snuggled against him for I don't know how long, his one arm around me while the other hand makes soft and lazy trails on my body. My skin is always hypersensitive after an orgasm, so the feeling is exquisite. As my mind starts to refocus, I look up at him, and catch him looking down at me. We both smile. I hope the glint in my eyes reflects the naughty plans I have. If not, he'll know soon enough. I shift a bit so I have use of my arm. I start, very tentatively, exploring his body. His shirt and briefs are still on, though the shirt is unbuttoned. When did he take off his pants? Or his shoes? When did the buttons get undone? I honestly can't remember. I trace my finger slightly up and down his incredibly strong arms. Then across his chest. Then his abdomen. He's making little murmurs of pleasure, so I take that as a sign to continue. I lightly scratch through the hair around his groin. Oh, that elicits a bigger reaction. Good to know! I continue all around the clearly sensitive area, never quite touching his penis. I lightly caress his balls. Then I oh so lightly brush my hand across his head. I feel him jump. It makes me bolder. I now use the back of my hand on the length of him, back and forth, up and down, skin to skin with little pressure. His involuntary reflexes and sounds of enjoyment turn me on no end!

My touches become a little more forceful, more direct. I hold his penis in my hand softly, stroking it lightly before returning to the light touches all over. It becomes harder by the moment, and after another minute or two, I'm ready. I move to between his legs, asking him to scoot up the bed just a bit. I stare into his eyes for a moment, with what I hope is a sexy grin. He smiles, but clearly is waiting to see what will happen. Still maintaining sharp eye contact, I hold the base of his ever more rigid cock as I slowly lick up the shaft. Then down. Again and again, all around. His little moans spur me on. I use my tongue to circle his head. Oh, he likes that! Again. And again. Until, without any hint, I take him fully into my mouth. I use my tongue to swirl around, before I suck deeply. I tease him like this again and again, as he grows more vocal, and longer and harder in my mouth. I release him to again lick the shaft. We are still looking at each other, and he says "that feels amazing." I think I'll burst with pride, and my smile is as wide as can be. I lick and tease, this time adding his balls to the fun. Again, I find something he likes! Let's see what else...I lick the area beneath his balls. This gets me an "Oh, Baby, Yes!" I love that. It makes me so wet to see the pleasure in his face, and know I'm making him feel that. It's powerful and arousing, and quite possibly my favorite thing about sex. I again take him in my mouth, though now it's more difficult, he's grown so much. I begin to move my mouth up and down, while lightly fondling his balls. His eyes are now closed, head thrown back. I see he's enjoying it and I'm so fucking turned on!

After another few minutes, he blurts out "Stop!" I immediately fear I've done something wrong. Did my teeth get in the way? Did I get too forceful? But as he pulls me up his body, he says, "That feels way too good. I'm not ready to come yet." Ohhhhhhh. I'm lying on top of him now, and he's kissing me so passionately I forget where I am. Oh, can this man kiss! Our hands are roaming each other's hair and face and it's maddeningly fabulous. I could do this forever.

...

We met a few months ago, when I was at a conference in his city. He actually picked me up in the hotel bar. We had two amazing nights. When we said goodbye, we agreed it was a fling and we'd just enjoy the memories. We're both married, with very busy lives, 2600 miles apart in two different countries. But a few days after I got home, a text arrived. Could we please just chat? We did. Which led to emails, and eventually phone calls. These were particularly hard to arrange, given our lack of privacy in our own houses, and the time difference, but you'd be amazed what can happen in a car or a restroom at the office.

My birthday was coming up and - being me - I mentioned it. Well, more than once. I can't help it; I love birthday attention! To my disappointment, he didn't really react, so eventually I let it go. But then, two days before the big day, I got a package. The return address meant nothing; I figured it was from my mother in law, who loves to shop in unusual places.

Luckily, I was alone when I opened it. Inside the box within the box I found a bright pink egg-shaped vibrator with a very long, thin tail. "That's a strange shape," I thought. It doesn't seem like the tail would be very, uh...effective. Then I read the box. The tail, it turned out, was a Bluetooth antenna! This vibrator is meant to be controlled from afar, via a phone app. What??? There was no note, but something told me it was from Him. I guess the Internet really does have all my information available, including my address!

Not an hour later, I got a text asking if I'd had any surprises today. He was clearly tracking the package and knew it had been delivered. But I said, "No, why do you ask?" Hah! The three dots indicating he was replying showed, and then disappeared, and then reappeared. But nothing came through. He was not sure how to respond...and I was loving the little bit of torture I knew I was inflicting. Finally, a response: "Nothing?" I shot back "Well, I did get a gift in the mail. There was no note, but I assume it's from my mother in law. She's always sending things she finds on QVC." I'm evil...