Intrusion

Sara looked out of the 10th floor window, watching the passers by scurrying about their business. "If only they knew", she thought. Anonymous bodies going to & fro, in and out of shops & offices, failing to see the aching look on Sara's face as she dreamed of what would follow that evening.

She sat down on the soft bed, smoothing out the silk of the cover. The bed was in the centre of the room and had been chosen very carefully. It's four posts were solid mahogany and would withstand anything that was asked of it.

Sara laid down on the bed, her thoughts kidnapped by the demands of her fantasy world. The room was hot & sticky. It was difficult to determine if this was because of the hot summer sun, shining through the windows, or from the heat that started to generate between Sara's legs. Sara played the sequence of events though her mind, not that she needed to. She had thought of nothing else for weeks. She began to feel the unavoidable throb that was the start of a promise of undeniable pleasure. The heat began to rise. A trickle of sweat dripped down between her heaving breasts.

As she lay on the bed, she tried to ignore the feelings that were starting to wrack her body. "Not yet. Not yet", she told herself. She rolled over on the bed and lay face down on the silk. She pushed herself into the bed and felt the fabric of her knickers gently rub her already swollen clitoris. Slowly she gyrated her body, rubbing herself against the bed, but still managing not to touch herself. Her juice was now flowing, and she could feel the hot wetness between her legs. Quickly she rolled on her back in an attempt to stop the pulsing that now wracked her body.

"Just think of those people outside", she thought to herself. "What if someone realises what you're doing?" She looked out of the window from where she lay on the silk, her moistness consuming her. She could see office blocks across the street from her. She could see the offices through her window, the curtains for which she had omitted to close. The thought of someone seeing her on this bed, her intentions so obvious, made her heart jump, just a little. In fact the thrill of someone sat quietly watching her made her feel hornier than ever. Sara lay there, her skirt hitched up above her thighs; her stockinged legs apart.

"Just this once", she thought, as she let her fingers slowly move down her moist body to her waiting, perfectly trimmed bush. Gently her finger touched her magic button, and a wave of pleasure was injected into her body. Slowly she moved her fingers over her clit and down, down still further to the soaked crevice of her cunt. First she slid one finger into the waiting void, and then another; deeper and deeper.

The heat was becoming unbearable. She stopped herself, slid her fingers away, and looked around the room for something to cool herself down with. "This can't go on", she scolded herself. Sara moved towards the mini-bar. She opened the door and was immediately kissed all over by the cold air that rushed to escape onto her body. She shuddered ever so slightly, the draft having moved so quickly and so devastatingly over her skin. Her nipples immediately stood erect. Her skin became alive and sensitive, as if awakened by the contrast that hit her like an invisible wall. After the thrill had subsided she looked into the mini-bar and found miniatures and mixers, all freezing cold and frosted with ice.

She reached in and picked up a can of coke, ripped off her blouse and put her hand into the cup of her bra. Her nipples were pert and hard, and a charge of electricity went through her body as her hands felt the little buds. She pulled off her bra and rolled the freezing cold can across her aching breasts. The ice on the can was almost excruciating on her so-erect nipples, but the pain soon blended into pleasure that only served to abandon herself further. She held the door of the mini-bar open, letting drafts of white cold air run between her legs. Her cunt was hungry now; desperate to be fed. It just wasn't enough, and she could fight it no longer. She needed more, and she needed help to satisfy this need within her. She looked again at the open bar and, replacing the Coke, took out a bottle of Perrier.

"This should do it." She smiled. But dare she use it? She had never done anything like this before. She looked around the room, as if checking for voyeurs, almost wanting there to be a secret pair of eyes feasting themselves on this scene of decadence and abandonment. Of course the window had the potential to supply any of this, and steeling herself to the reality of the situation she slowly put the tip of the ice cold bottle on her clit. The effect was unbelievable. The chill of the cap on her most sensitive place was a revelation, but all she could think of was introducing it to her warm crotch in the most dirty of ways. Carefully she moved the bottle down towards her aching cunt. She felt the neck touch every wave of flesh from the hood of her clit down toward the soaking labia that were swollen and naturally apart, ready for the introduction of a solid, phallic object.

Finally she could resist no longer, and gently moved the now warming cap into the void that was so desperate to be filled. She rose slightly to help her bottom find the edge of the bed, which she fell backwards onto; one hand caressing her engorged clit and the other working the bottle in and out of her soaked haven. She pushed it further and further, a little at a time to enjoy the sensations of the cold bottle against her electrified labia. The still very chilled water in the bottle was serving to re-cool the glass, and so carry on providing her with ever more sensations; waves of cold thrill mixed with moments of ecstasy and lust.

Finally when she had taken the full length of the object into her, release came like lightning bolts from a storm cloud. Her head thrust backwards and she inhaled so sharply and deeply it sounded like she was in real pain. But it was not pain she was feeling. The pleasure came and it came. It seemed to last for ever, aftershocks wracking her body. Slowly the throbbing subsided. She withdrew the offending article from her dripping pussy, and smiled a very warm smile towards such an inanimate object. She lay thinking of what she had done, and nonchalantly cracked the seal on the bottle. "I need a drink", she thought to herself, and put the neck of the bottle to her lips. The smell of musk wafted up her nostrils, and served only to remind herself of why she had come to this room at the Plaza. She was here to meet a stranger.

She was here to have a liaison with a man who wanted to take a stranger with not a word spoken. She was here to be taken in any way that the man wanted to. She was here with no questions and no demands. All she had to do tonight was to make the situation as right as she wanted it. After all, it was Sara that called the agency and demanded the man, the time, the place, the secrecy and the silence. Her instructions were most specific – no talking, no questions, no kissing on the lips, no pleasantries, no fumbling, and definitely no geeks. She wanted a god; a being to come through her hotel room door and take her like she had never been taken before.

As she hitched herself up to sit on the bed once again, she looked out of the window. There didn't seem to be any lights on or staring eyes to crack her solitude, and she honestly didn't know whether to be pleased or disappointed. She took another swig of water, and thought to herself "Well, boys, if you did see that, store it in your memory well, because floor shows like that don't often come for free."

She put the bottle down on the night stand, and looked around the room. She was sufficiently together now to gather her clothes up and dress herself. She put on her bra and blouse, so specially chosen, and she knew that the buttons and catches wouldn't remain undisturbed for long. She glided to the window and took a look out at the world below, and wondered how many people below had fantasised about an event such as this; to absolve themselves of all responsibility and will. For she had set in place such a fantasy, and tonight it was going to come true. She reached up and drew the veiled curtain across the window. It was the only protection she was going to have tonight, and her fingers held onto the edges of the curtain a moment longer than they would have in any other circumstance. The curtains happened to have a red tinge to them, and they cast a red glow over the hotel room like her own room at home. That made her feel safe. But letting go of them made a strange mix of anxiety and passion flow through her. This was really letting go, she thought to herself. She was going to do it, and she really was going to abandon her self to a stranger. She flattened the sheets into a perfect smoothness that would befit this most perfect of situations. Then she carefully lay herself down onto the sheets, and took a brief look at the clock on the night stand. Nearly time, she thought, and she wandered off into her fantasies and dreamt of what would actually happen tonight. Her writhings had made her more drowsy than she imagined, and although she never knew it, she found herself asleep on that bed, bathed in a red glow, still moist between her legs, and expectant of a man who would come into her room and make her feel like the woman she always dreamt of.

Chapter 4

He closed the door behind him. He almost felt the sneck as he gently released it in the latch. His heart was still in his mouth, and he allowed himself a moment to survey the scene again. After all, this was not a moment to be squandered. He was alone in the room of his ultimate fantasy, and she was going to know that he was there to bring her what she wanted. The glow that lit the room was one of serenity and beauty, and this was what pervaded him as he stood there. His eyes moved around the room. The trappings of class and money were everywhere to be seen. But his eyes only alit on one thing. There was a woman there on the bed and, was that silk she was lying on? Of course it was, but that would just be natural for a woman of her stature.

He had to steel himself against the situation he found himself in. He was not born to this type of activity, and he found his hand being raised to his closed mouth just to stop his breath from entering the room of his desire. He wanted her so much. She lay there asleep, unknowing of his presence, and unaware of his attentions to give her what she wanted when she least expected it. Or so he thought. He closed his eyes. He was here for a purpose. A purpose that he had laid himself intent on a long time before he found himself in this room. And he was going to carry it out, because not only was it what he wanted, but it was what she wanted, he was sure.

He removed his hand from his mouth and lowered his head. The toe end of his right foot moved to the heel of his other shoe, and prised the shoe off his foot. His foot made the slightest of rubbing noises against the canvas of his shoe, and he made it a quick motion that was inevitable if he was to maintain his secrecy. The opposite happened, and he suddenly stood there in his bare feet: his feet the first part of his body to match the nakedness of her skin under those silken sheets, that betrayed her nudity. His eyes became transfixed on her. Her form under those covers. The roundness of her bottom raised to his view. The smooth arches of her back lying so tenderly under those covers. Nothing stood in his way but silk. Perfection was what he wanted, and it seemed to be presenting itself for him right in front of his very eyes.

He moved his hands to the hem of his tee-shirt and pulled it over his head with one movement. His lithe muscles again flexed over the flimsy material of his shirt, and as he removed it, (his arms flexing to the ceiling of her boudoir) if only she could see, he looked like the god that she so desired. He stopped, holding it for a second, and let it drop vertically to the floor without a sound. He moved silently towards the side of the double bed that she was on and stopped opposite her undulating torso. He stood for a moment, watching her slowly rising frame as she breathed in. Then he watched as she breathed out and the silk reformed around her like her best friend covering her up as she rested. It softly billowed round her and the serenity of her sleep made him more passionate than ever. He had to have her. But there was a right way to do everything, and patience was, after all, a virtue.

He reached down his own undulating torso to the only entrapments left that held him from the same nudity that she offered. His hand fingered the button of his 501's and effortlessly flipped the button through the hole that held its station. The zipper was easier. He held the left side of his jeans and flipped the zipper upwards. That released the mechanism, and the zipper flew to its zenith without effort. As he continued to stare at her beautiful body, not more than 18 inches away, he stooped down to guide his jeans to his ankles without noise. His penis, already aroused by the situation, sprang from its cage and presented itself in front of him, ready for the purpose for which it was intended tonight. He stepped out of his jeans, again without noise, and stepped away from them, moving slightly towards her head.

His mind raced. What was going to happen was inevitable now. He had played it so many times through in his head, he was certain that his plan was what she wanted, and she was going to know that her man had arrived tonight. He gently sat down in the space between her shoulder and the side of the bed, and she stirred.

She rolled over gently onto her back, lines furrowing her face. Was this the end of his plan? Was it all going to end now in an awakening? A scream that would not only wake the people in the spare bedroom, but also shatter his life? To be unable to show her what he was, and who he was, and what he could offer, was not an option. As her breasts rubbed against the silk of the sheets, and her back flattened down onto the bed, he made his move. His cupped right hand, ever so gently and carefully, lowered onto her mouth.

He did not press. He did not want to wake her any more than she was already stirring, but it had to be done in self defence, almost. This was the moment. It was upon him, and soon he had to be upon her, or the game was up. He knew this, but still he wanted to take as much time as possible. He moved his left hand to the corner of the sheet and pulled it towards the middle of the bed. It revealed a naked body that was the stuff of his dreams. He pert breasts were perfection and, strangely he thought, her nipples were erect, even though it was a warm and sticky night. He continued to move the sheet to reveal her mound and the bush that hid it. Again it was perfection. Perfectly trimmed and waxed. Just how he liked it, and just how he imagined it to be. He couldn't help himself. He let go of the sheet where it had come to, clear of her torso, and cupped his left hand. He moved it over her mound, perfectly shaping it to her pubis. It rested on her bush and he moved his fingers to touch her lips, very slightly. To his amazement her right leg moved slowly to the side and crooked itself at an angle. Not only did he now have perfect access to the lips he so wanted to touch, but he could have sworn they were moist!

He allowed his fingers to rest a bit more firmly on her lips and, sure enough, she was damp between her legs. Was she aroused already? What on earth had she been dreaming while he was playing cat-burglar and entering her house? What has she dreaming now he was furtively planning to enter her?

His middle finger got the better of him, and he decided to investigate further. As he held his breath he worked his finger up and down, and very soon felt her labia give way to his firm digit. He found her clitoris, fully engorged and erect, and made tiny and gentle motions around it. A very quiet and subconscious groan seemed to emanate from her mouth under his right hand. It was more of a sigh, but he felt it nonetheless. Encouraged, he investigated further, and his finger moved from her clitoris to her clitoral hood, and he worked it very tenderly to circle her clit. He moved his first & third fingers to her lips again and parted them, ever so gently, to allow his middle finger access to the holy grail. Her lips parted with ease, and his finger moved into her moist tunnel as the shaft of his finger rested against her clitoris at the same time. Her back arched, and he pressed his hand firmly onto her crotch now. He was home, and she was loving it. This was more than he could have hoped for!

Still she did not seem to wake, but her dream had obviously encapsulated what was happening to her at this precise moment. He decided that he was definitely on the right track, and that the time had come to go further. He removed his warm hand from her even warmer crotch. He removed his other hand from her mouth, as she was not going to scream at this stage, he was sure. Instead he quickly looked for her hands. He gently took her hands in each of his and moved them above her head. With this leverage he lifted his body and placed a knee between her already parted legs. The other knee followed and he lowered himself down over her, gently resting his weight just over her sleeping torso.

As he stared into her face while she dreamt, the motion of his body must have been too much for her and her eyes, squinting, opened. Ever so slightly at first, but she looked up at him nonetheless, and for a moment he did not know what to do. There was a gentle spasm went through her neck muscles, and he felt her neck rise a little from the pillow. He quickly got control of his urge to look worried or unsure. She looked, it seemed for an eternity, into his eyes, and all he could do was stare right back at those peering, wondrous, but nevertheless perfect eyes of hers. He neither looked sternly or menacingly, but simply looked at her, and at the same time found the presence of mind to smile just a little. After a second she smiled back, and slowly closed her eyes again. Her neck rested back onto the pillow, and her smile remained. This time she was not going to dream. He was there and she was with him.

He craned his neck downwards to taste the lips that had just smiled at him. He kissed her on the lips, and this time her neck spasmed the other way. She recoiled! After entering her house, her room, and penetrating her with his fingers, she recoiled at his kiss! He was not going to be undone, and he pressed his lips to hers in the best way he knew how. He kissed her with the passion that had welled up from years of repression, years of yearning, and weeks of sheer lust. After a short while he felt her give way. Her lips met his in the most amazing and mutual kiss imaginable. That kiss had created and sealed the bond that was never there between them. It was there now, and there was no going back. Her eyes remained closed and she released her head back onto the pillow and turned her head away. The glow from the moon may have cast a red hue over the room, but all he could see was a green signal, and his heart was full.

Without a moment's hesitation he released the pressure on her hands and in stead moved them with his, one in each of his own. He moved them with him as he bent his legs and his back to move his head down her body. Her hands followed his to her hips, but his head went further. He lowered it to her mound, and stretched his tongue to meet her clitoris. It found its mark at first attempt, and again her back arched to meet his reaching head. He rested himself down to give her pussy the attention it deserved, and moved his elbows to part her legs enough so he could reach not only her engorged clit, but also her lips and her waiting vulva. As he worked his tongue through every crevice of her most private parts, his mouth was filled with the most sweet juices he had ever tasted. He lapped them up as he pleasured her, and he could hear her gently moaning with delight at the thrills being sent through her body.