Charity Dinner

I glanced sleepily up at his face and saw he was looking at me, eyes still half closed. I didn't say anything, just slid my hand down to his cock, found it hard as a rock, and wrapped my fingers around it. I love a hard cock in my hand, although not nearly as much as I love a hard cock in my pussy.

I never even thought about saying "I need your wang" as I kicked the covers down, threw my leg over him, and slid myself up until I was sitting on his thighs. Honest, it never even crossed my mind. Really. I wasn't as wet as I'd been before, and while I was looser I was also pretty raw from our first go around. I took it slow, even slower than Dixon had, taking just a little before backing off, then just a little more to help ease me on and lube him up a little at a time.

I didn't have that kind of orgasm this time, the mind numbing legs shaking kind, but I definitely enjoyed myself. I just rode him, half asleep, half dreaming, feeling every hard inch inside me as I ground down, circled round, or rocked my hips forward and back. I felt that warm, dreamy, floating tingle all through my body while his hands held my hips or roamed my legs, belly, arms, tits. I might have fallen asleep, I might have been half awake, sleepfucking the amazing cock of this gorgeously hot man underneath me. It felt like it lasted forever, tingling, floating, hips rocking, never bypassing that threshold from amazing to too much before Dixon gasped out "I'm close!"

I slid off him reluctantly, my pussy aching as he left, and I thought it would have been nice to stay; but no. Besides I had other plans. I slid down his legs, lowering my body to his until my boobs squished against his belly, nestled around his cock. I pushed them together, which felt good for me but I'm betting a lot better for him; they weren't big enough to surround him but were big enough to get the job done. Then I jacked him with my tits, stroking them up and down while he groaned, grabbed at my shoulders, and murmured unintelligible things that made me grin from ear to ear. It was barely a dozen bounces before his fingers clutched tight, his hips started to buck, then his cock twitched and pulsed as he spilled his second load of the night between my tits.

I climbed back up the bed, moving towards Dixon, but he got up. I growled unhappily and rolled over on my back, staring at the tasteful recessed lighting fixtures. Mighty rude of him to leave me all alone, but a minute later he was back with a warm washcloth and it was on my face, my neck, my tits where it, and his hands, lingered for a while. Then he was gone and I started tugging up at the sheets and comforter, pulling them up over me. I heard him in the bathroom, then the tasteful recessed lighting was turned off and a weight joined me in the bed. A warm body moved under the covers with me and I wrapped an arm around it, feeling and smelling Dixon. Then I drifted off.

Morning sunlight woke me. Morning sunlight and a phone buzzing. Morning sunlight, a phone buzzing, and a hangover. Not the worst hangover I'd ever had but a hangover nonetheless.

"Fuuuuuuuuck..." I groaned as I rolled over and swatted for the phone, only to find a hotel side table with a little metal clock instead that I caught a nail on. I had a moment of panic. Where? What... oh. Right.

The buzzing stopped and I rolled over, opening gummy eyes to stare at the ceiling. My eyes were dry, my head ached, my pussy ached. It ached really nicely. Last night was coming back to me slowly as I woke up: the party, the couple hours of drinking and flirting at the bar, the mad dash back to this hotel, and the couple hours of debauchery in this very bed in this very room. This empty bed. This... where was Dixon?

I had a second moment of panic as I sat up, glancing around, taking in the remarkably spacious hotel room and wondering where a six foot something man with great shoulders could hide himself until I realized that white noise I'd been hearing was not the rush of traffic outside my apartment but the sound of a shower.

This was a nice room, I realized. I'd noticed the lighting fixtures of all things the night before, functional and elegant, while Dixon pounded me through the mattress but now I was noticing the rest of it too: the really comfortable bed, the really soft sheets, the art on the walls, the freaking analog clocks with the little brass hands on both side tables. The morning sunlight was coming through floor to ceiling windows on one side of the room and had a view of actual sun rather than another building. The room was spacious, the flowers were real, and the television was significant. The place smelled of potpourri rather than the usual hotel smell of bleach and dust. Okay, well, potpourri and sex.

Holy shit this was a nice hotel room. That I'd just hooked up in.

My phone buzzed again. Where the hell was the Frauda? Somewhere near the door where I'd tossed it when we'd stumbled in, drunk and horny. I sat up, the sheets falling to my hips, and realized I was naked. Of course I'm naked, I got fucked so good I can still feel it, but where the hell had my clothes gone? Everywhere, apparently: I spotted my skirt just off the bed, my shoes in two different places and my bra draped over one of the very real potted plants.

I'd planned on going to a high society party and getting buzzed, meeting famous people, meeting weird people, seeing some crazy upper class shit and waking up with a hangover and a few good stories. I had not planned on going to a party and getting buzzed, hitting it off with Charity's super hot and rich brother, molesting him in the elevator and hall and then fucking his brains out twice before waking up with a hangover, some good memories, and the realization that I'd just drunk my way through my first one night stand.

"Hey. That sheet looks good on you."

I glanced up and felt my heart skip. He wasn't naked but he wasn't wearing a towel; instead he had on just a pair of tight boxer briefs and remember how I said I like the look and feel of a guy's package in just his underwear? Oh fuck why. Between that, the V, his thighs, his smile, his voice, his... this wasn't going to be easy. You were supposed to leave after a one night stand but... I didn't want to. I hadn't wanted to before but now that he was here I really didn't want to. Shit I should have skipped before he got out of the shower. Shit. Shit he had a great smile.

"Hey," I answered.

We stared at each other for a little, him smiling like an idiot and spending at least as much time on my face as my boobs, and me making some expression and trying to figure out what to say next, other than hi want to fuck all day and maybe for the next decade after that.

"I had fun," is what I eventually settled on.

His expression drooped a little. "Had fun?"

"Yeah, I..." shit how do you say this? It would be way easier if he took the lead. Hey, Anita, I had fun, I'm going out for some coffee here's cash for an Uber. Hey, Anita, I had fun I'm going to get dressed, why don't you do that too? Here's a kiss goodbye. Hey, Anita, get lost.

I needed an Advil.

He sat down in the chair beside the television, giving me a quizzical look. "What's going on here?"

"I'm trying..." I started, "I'm trying to say I had fun. And thanks for a great night. And... and you know I should put some clothes on."

"Why?" He asked. "I'm not."

I can tell and fuck if I don't want to lick you until you squirm.

"Because it's going to look bad if I walk out of here naked? Fuck, Dixon, what the hell is the protocol for these kinds of things? This is my first time."

"First time what?" He looked confused, then startled. "No fucking way not..."

"No, not my first time my first time, I've had sex before you don't... no it's just... my first..." I trailed off.

"Your first time skipping out on a guy?" He asked. Now he sounded hurt. Or angry. Or confused. I couldn't tell.

"What? No! I, yes? No? What?" What? "No! My first... the first time I've gone home with a guy! To a hotel! My first..." I took a deep breath and slowed my flapping lips a little.

"My first one night stand," I continued. "So I haven't done this before, I don't know if I was supposed to be gone by the time you woke up or if I'm supposed to leave a lipstick note on the mirror or if we fuck one time before I go or... or what..." Shut your mouth, Anita. Shut up, shut up, shut up...

"Why do you have to leave at all?" He asked.

What? "What?"

He stared at me, leaning forward in his chair. "Why do you have to leave at all?"

"Because..."I started, and stopped. What?

"Because?" He asked.

"I thought this was... but you're..." Okay what was going on here?

"Yes?"

I tried again. "We met at a party and then I dragged you off to a hotel and we fucked and isn't that the way stuff like this normally ends?"

"I think I did the dragging."

"No, fuck, Dixon! You don't just... this is not how..."

My head hurt.

He tried a grin but it came out looking hurt. "I thought hitting it off and dragging each other to hotels was how you met people you liked?"

"Maybe how you meet people you like..." I started and snapped my mouth shut. That came out sounding way worse than I meant it to and I could tell from his expression. Shit Anita, shit shit shit why are you not just getting your clothes and getting out of here?

"Ouch." The attempted grin went away and I missed it. Come back, grin, let's try again?

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"Because you're... because..."

"Because?" He raised his eyebrows. Normally you read about people raising one and it looking quizzical, but nope Dixon raised the whole damn thing and it looked just as quizzical but it also made me feel confused. And small. Confused and small. Which is probably why I blurted out what I'd been thinking and trying not to say.

"Because you're rich!"

He looked startled, and now it was his turn to say "what?"

"You're rich," I said again, "and I'm the one night stand you met at the party and fucked. Really really well, I mean holy shit but... I don't... I don't do this sort of thing, okay I guess I do now, but now I... I don't... know."

"Anita..."

"But you are super, super hot and super, super fun and I really like the sound of your voice and your beard and the way you smell and the way you leaned toward me whenever you wanted to hear what I had to say and the way you smile and..." I trailed off.

"Anita..."

"I just... you know, I kind of wanted to..."

"Anita?"

"Yeah?"

"So I'm hot. But do you like me?"

I snorted. "That's why this is hard."

"Leaving?"

"Yeah."

"So it's my turn."

"Your turn?"

"To talk."

"Okay."

"I don't know what I was expecting at the party last night. I wasn't looking to hook up, I was just in town to hang out with my sister and she had a shindig going on so I figured why not, I'd drink some free booze, see some crazy upper class shit, and wake up at noon the next day with a hangover and some great stories."

"That's exactly what I was thinking I mean did you see the fucking hawk?"

"I think it was a falcon but quiet for a second."

"Sorry."

"I definitely wasn't expecting to meet a fun, funny, great looking woman at the bar who I just wanted to chat all night with. I wasn't expecting to get butterflies like I was fifteen again hanging out with my first crush. I wasn't expecting to want to do anything to get her to laugh. I wasn't expecting to drag her off to my hotel room and have mindblowing sex, either, but it all happened and I don't regret it. I don't regret it and I'd like to keep not regretting it."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"This doesn't have to be a one night stand. I don't want it to be a one night stand. I'd rather you stayed."

I stared at him. Well shit.

"Oh," I said.

He grinned at me. Hi, grin, welcome back.

"Yeah," he said, "oh."

"Sorry, I thought..." I was feeling... something. A lot of somethings. A bit of confusion, a bit of embarrassment, but well... some good things too.

"I know. It's okay. This is new for me too."

We sat in silence for a little.

"Do you still want to leave?" he asked.

Hell no I don't want to leave. I started to answer with just that, but Dixon suddenly interrupted.

"Actually, don't um, don't answer that just yet. I... before you make a decision I have a confession to make."

My heart jumped. Fuck you Dixon why are you doing this to me?

"What?" I asked warily.

"I'm not rich."

"What?"

"Charity and I grew up in Modesto. She married rich. I'm up to my neck in a mortgage on a five room house in Oakland that's not much bigger than this hotel room. This room? My sister paid for this room with hubby's money. This room is something like five hundred bucks a night, I'm not sure I have that much in savings. I install entertainment systems for a living, although I might be up for a promotion next month and then I'll make almost as much as you."

I stared at him. I'm an idiot. A giant fucking idiot. Of course, of course his sister married money, I just sort of assumed because seriously who gets invited to these parties? I mean, other than middle class insurance agent sisters of supermodel boyfriend hairdressers so seriously why am I that surprised?

That's what I thought, but what I said was: "How do you know how much I make?" Because I'm an idiot.

"You told me. Last night. Which is when I thought I'd told you what I do for a living. I try to do that these days."

He had said something about his job but I had been a little distracted at the time. Whoops.

"So...?" He started.

"So, what? Are you asking if I'm leaving now that I know you're as broke as me?" I didn't know whether to feel hurt or not by that. I wasn't, I just didn't know if I should be.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Do you see me leaving?" I responded.

He gave a relieved smile. "Good."

"Why would I leave?"

He sighed and looked a little guilty.

"Believe it or not," he said, "you're not the first woman who assumed I was rich because my sister married it."

"Do you bring a lot of them home?" It was out before I thought about it. Shut up, Anita, shut up shut up shut up!

Dixon didn't look angry at the question, though; instead he looked embarrassed.

"Um," he started.

"Shit no, I'm sorry that was..."

"No, it's okay. Only a few, but that's still more than I'd like to admit. I am, um, one night stands aren't really my thing either but I've made a few bad choices. A lot of the time I can tell they're... not really into me. You, though, you seemed..."

"Into you?"

He grinned. "I think I was more into you, but yeah."

Yes you were.

"So, are you... okay with that?" he asked.

"You being poor?"

"Me taking girls home."

I shrugged. "Not judging over here."

He relaxed noticeably. "Most of the time they assume I'm rich and then skip out when they find out I'm not. I like to tell women when they meet me now, just to be safe. I thought I had last night. Sorry. It's nice having someone come at it from that direction though. The opposite one, I mean, leaving when she thinks I'm rich but staying if I'm not."

"I wouldn't say I'm staying because you're broke. I'm staying because we had fun, and I like you." And I like your cock in me. A lot.

He grinned again, and I grinned back. Hello grin, I guess you're here to stay.

So one night stand, except not one night stand. Maybe it's like he said: isn't this how people meet? Why not? You like someone, you find them attractive, maybe say goodnight and part ways until the next time, maybe you hit it off and kiss goodnight, maybe you really hit it off and fuck all night in a luxury hotel room. What was wrong with that?

Except how is this going to work out? Sure, okay, we got past the maybe we actually like each other and aren't just in it for the fucking part, but seriously: I've got a career, so does he, and sure neither of them are all that great but they're careers and... wait where did he say his house was?

"Did you say Oakland?" I asked.

"What?"

"Your house is in Oakland?"

"Oh, yeah."

I laughed. "Shit I live in Sacramento, that's like ninety minutes on a good day."

"I'm willing to drive ninety minutes."

"Ninety minutes for mindblowing sex?"

"Ninety minutes for maybe more than mindblowing sex."

I stretched in his luxury hotel room bed, watching as his eyes tracked over me from head to toe and back. I liked the look in his eyes, I liked it enough that I kicked the covers off as I flopped back, stretching more.

I'm pretty sure I heard him mutter "fuck."

"I'd like more too. But I'd also like the mindblowing sex."

"Me too."

"So, how about, maybe... now?"

"Now?"

"Right now."

"We just did it twice..."

"Twice last night. It's morning. I can tell you're up for it."

He looked very torn. I almost had him.

"Won't someone be - " he started, and as if on cue the phone dinged, interrupting.

Shit. I knew who it was, and even if it wasn't there was still someone I needed to call. Or text. Probably just a text. A fast text. A really fast text.

"Can you hand me my purse? I think it's...somewhere by the door?"

He stood and fuck I just wanted to... I mean I could see it but I just wanted to cup it and feel it and stroke it and oh fuck did I want to watch him squirm. It would be great squirming. He's moan a little, grab my shoulder, and lean on me while I...

I was still lost in those thoughts when the Frauda landed on the bed next to me; right, phone. I fished it out and there were two calls and five messages from my brother. I skimmed through the latter and found the expected ones: be safe, have fun, see you in the morning, and where the hell are you? The fifth and final one was an invitation to meet him for brunch, though. Hmmm.

"Hey, Dixon?"

"Yeah?"

"You want to go to brunch with my brother?"

"The one I wasn't supposed to notice you waving off last night?"

Whoops. "Yeah, that one."

"Sure. What time?"

"Eleven?"

He glanced at the clock again. "Just enough time for you to take a shower, then."

"Or enough time for a quickie," I grinned at him.

He laughed. "I am not sure I could survive another bout without a little more rest."

I pouted, but...

"You're probably right," I finally admitted, "I'm um... you're pretty big."

"Oh?" he asked, looking pleased with himself the way guys normally do when you compliment their cock.

"Yeah, and I probably need a little time to recover before you put it in me again. But um," I slid my hands up my sides, cupping my boobs and pushing them together while I watched his reaction. Hook: baited.

"But um?"

"You could always fuck my tits."

Having a lot on top came with a few advantages, and one of my favorites was, honestly, getting a cock between them. I liked the way it felt, I liked the way a guy looked, I'd really liked the way it felt and looked last night when Dixon had been there and fuck if I couldn't get him in my pussy...

He groaned. "Please don't tempt me because I want to be on time and I want your brother to like me. Go take a shower."

I dropped the girls and pouted at him some more. He did have a point, though; my brother liked punctuality.

"I'll fuck your tits after."

"Promise?"

"I promise to fuck your tits after brunch."

"That's a good line."

He made a doubtful noise.

"Worked on me, didn't it?"

"Not sure I could use it in a lot of situations. Now get to it, you're a mess."

"And whose fault is that?" I asked, rising from the bed as languidly as possible. "How's the water?"

"This is a five-hundred dollar a night hotel room, the water is always perfect. And you have your choice of three kinds of shampoo."

"Oh!" I said, acting surprised as I sauntered towards him, "I could get used to dating a rich girl's brother."

He grabbed me by the blue part of my hair as I started to pass him, not hard but hard enough to let me know what he wanted, and I turned and stood up on tiptoes as he tilted my head back. We did not bang our teeth. His lips were hungry, his tongue was hungrier, and I gave it a suck when he finally pulled off. He'd told me exactly one thing that he liked and I was going to use it any chance I got.