Hotel: Bar

Hotel bars always provide great sights. People seem to check their inhibitions at the front desk. This trip I found myself in a high-end boutique establishment I had been in before. The meetings lasted forever and it feels good to relax with a glass of whiskey and look around at the others doing the same thing. I cross my long bare legs under my knee-length skirt and squeeze the thighs together. It feels good to apply the pressure on my mound. I had brought myself to a glorious climax several times before coming down to the bar. Holding my thighs tight helps prolong the glow.

By a window, a woman sits at a table with a folder of papers scattered across the table. Her black skirt rests high on the thigh, the only thigh she has. The matching black, low-heal shoe flips against the foot as it swings back and forth. Crutches rest against the wall not far away. I stare at the breasts highlighted by the sunlight filtering though the nearly translucent blouse. I imagine if her skirt was like the blouse, I could see her panties or the outline of what remained of the missing leg. I consider if she is an exhibitionist. A thrill races though my loins as I picture her standing in front of a window rubbing her nipples against the glass.

She rubs her eyes again then sips the last of her drink. I suspect the day has been long for her as it has been for me. She pulls her barefoot onto the seat of the chair and rubs the arch of her foot, wiggles the toes, and puts the foot down, but not in the shoe. The foot rubs against the carpet a few times and I guess she would like someone to massage it for her.

I notice the man in the khaki slacks and dark blue, blazer jacket watching her, probably with many of the same thoughts I have. His blue eyes caught my attention when he entered the bar. His suffer blond hair and toned body did too. He adjusts his trousers, probably to relieve some of the pressure of the erection hidden inside. I imagine it large with a wonderful mushroom head, possibly in my mouth. He finishes the last of the beer from the bottle. The glass remains empty on the bar.

He smiles at Kate, the buxom server, and asks for another. I know her name. I've been here many times. I see her bend over and he stares intently down her cleavage. She has great breasts. I've watched them also. He'd probably like to take her upstairs and make her scream in pleasure. A tingle grabs my mound, as I think of them naked on the clean white sheets of a king-size bed. Then I picture myself in a line of women waiting for him to fuck us one at a time. Another tingle and wetness between my legs becomes noticeable.

I think of the woman with one leg as Beth, though I don't know her real name. She holds her hand up and smiles at Kate then whispers 'another'. Her finger points at the drink glass as if Kate might not understand what she is asking for. I tease my mind and pretend she means 'another missing leg'. She twists in the chair and the skirt slips up more, revealing the end of her missing leg. A finger scratches the end. She seems unconcerned that it is exposed.

Mike, who knows what his real name is, doesn't seem to mind the sight. I imagine I can see the bulge in his pants. There is no way he could stand without it being obvious. Suddenly in my mind, we are upstairs again and she is next in line after me. I finish quickly. She takes my place, wraps her single leg around his waist, and quickly moans in climax. We each get back in line. Kate lies on the bed again. My thoughts return to the bar and I take a sip of my drink.

Beth seems so organized that it surprises me when a single piece of paper falls on the floor. Mike quickly takes a few steps and hands it to her. She smiles. I'm sure she saw the bulge. I know I did. There are words I can't hear, but he sits down. They talk. Her barefoot strokes his ankle. Maybe it is just an accident. I glance around. A group of men at another table whisper. I wonder if they are discussing Beth and Mike.

She closes the folder and slides it inside a handsome leather briefcase. He sips his beer.

A new server leans and asks if I'm ready for another drink. I've never seen him and ponder his looks as I nod. I love his dark curly hair. I picture my hand over the front of his zipper. He's younger, probably working his way though college. He stands and I wonder what his face would be like between my legs. I squeeze my thighs tight to keep the wetness from falling against the back of my skirt. He smiles and walks away. My thighs remain pressed together as the quivering subsides.

Mike still talks to Beth and I think about her missing leg. How did it happen? What was it like to be that way? Did Mike prefer women like her? The last thought surprised me. Do people prefer that? The climax catches me off guard. I bite my lower lip to stifle the scream.

Now I focus on her stump, as it lies exposed not far away. I try to will him to leave so I can take that seat. He frowns as I stare. He holds the bottle and stands. She remains seated. There are a few unheard words, maybe 'thanks, but no'. He looks one last time before leaving.

Beth looks around as if she can hear my thoughts. She smiles and watches me for a long moment before sipping her drink. She twists in the chair. I can see the white of her panties. The smile remains as I cross the distance to the still warm chair at her table. 'Hello' I tell her. She touches my hand and leaves them together. I can feel her warm breath as she leans closer as if to kiss me across the table. I want to knock it over and take her there for all to watch.

She grabs the crutches as she stands. Her hand reaches out. The force drags me with her. The elevator dings. The door closes.

"Martha," the voice says, snapping me out of my fantasy. I look up and see Mark.

"Hope you still want to have dinner."

I look around and realize Beth and Mike were some kind of dream. I'm disappointed and look puzzled at him.

"If not, I'll try to understand."

I see him trying to understand my strange mood. I shrug it off as I remember at the meeting, how much I had wanted to get naked with him. I stand to give him a peck on the lips. "Let's go," I whisper in his ear.

As we stepped into the elevator, he says, "Did you see the woman with one leg?"