Fun with the Waiter and His Manager

She dismounted Jack, swinging her leg over him. We lay side by side and she hovered above us, dripping Jack's cum first into your mouth, then into mine. My tongue stroked the length of her slit. I could taste the tanginess of Trudy and the saltiness of Jack. I kept working her drenched pussy with my tongue and lips until I could only taste Trudy, and I knew I had gotten all of Jack's cum. I started sucking on Trudy's clit, feeling her little pink bead swell even more under my lips. My nose was buried in her soaked bush. I gave her the flat of my tongue to rub her pussy across and could distinctly feel the hardness of her clit against it. My lips and cheeks were sopping wet from her; I could feel her moisture almost to my earlobes. She grabbed the back of my head and pushed her cunt onto my tongue as her pace increased. Her pace slowed, and she moved like she was trying to jam her entire pussy into my mouth. Suddenly, her pale ass quivered as she came on my face.

She collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, but then looked at the clock radio on the bedside table. Ten forty-five am.

"Ten forty-five!" she exclaimed. She leaped out of bed and there was a flurry of dressing. "I'm supposed to open for lunch."

Jack got up and dressed also. "I'll go in with you to help you get caught up," he offered, buttoning his pants.

"Thanks," she said as she paused her frenzy for a moment to look up and give him a kiss. She seemed touched.

You and I put on the hotel robes and walked them to the door. Trudy kissed me, and then you, and it was definitely not a peck on the cheek. Holding hands, she and Jack disappeared through the door, stepping over the morning newspaper lying on the floor in the hallway.

You picked it up and watched them disappear down the hall. Then, looking through the newspaper, you asked, "You'll make us some coffee?" You found what you were looking for in the paper and tossed the rest of it onto the table.

"Sure, love," I said. "Did you have a good time?" It was a loaded question. I unzipped the coffee packet and put it in the basket.

"Of course," you laughed, somewhat facetiously. "Do you think we'll see them again?" you added.

"Just maybe," I said, concentrating on pouring water into the coffeemaker. There was a silence, then the sound and smell of coffee brewing. Your robe was open, and you were lying on the couch with your legs slightly apart. The folded up newspaper was resting on your stomach. From under it, your dark patch peeked out. The residue of the night before was still in it.

Your eyes were scanning the puzzle. Breaking the silence, you said, "'Peace in our time' prime minister, eleven letters, second letter H."