Just Add Alcohol Ch. 04

At the request of a reader who was kind enough to offer both feedback and a plot suggestion, I have this to say:

Chris entered Room 834 at the Palmer House Hilton and was immediately overcome by a stench he knew all too well. An assistant manager of the venerable Chicago hotel, he had been summoned to the room by the head of housekeeping a few minutes after noon on Sunday. It was just over an hour after check-out time, and the room was still occupied. Given the circumstances of the occupation, housekeeping didn't know what to do about it.

Before entering, Chris rapped his knuckles against the oak panel of the door several times before sliding the master keycard through the slot. When it clicked, he opened it slightly. "Hello?" he said loudly, giving fair warning of his impending entry.

Receiving no response, he pushed the door open and stepped into the entryway of the small suite. 'Not again,' he thought to himself as the commingled scents of alcohol, sweat and sex assaulted him.

He closed the door behind him – loudly, giving further warning of his presence – and stepped down the short entryway and into the main living area. The shades were pulled and he squinted, looking across the room and into the bedroom, the door of which stood open.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. His guest – Chris was rather proprietary of those who chose to stay at the Palmer House – lay upon the bare mattress of the king-sized bed, the sheets having been torn from the corners and strewn about the floor. She was face down, her small, dainty feet dangling off the edge of the mattress, her tight, tan-lined bottom bare to the stale, muggy air that permeated the room.

Judging by the rank odor of alcohol, she was passed out. Judging by the equally strong smells of sweat and sex, her little body had been ravaged the night before and probably into the wee hours of the morning.

* * *

The denizens of the city of Chicago were euphoric. Well, most of them were. The diehard Cubs fans were a little put out, upset that the White Sox were playing in the World Series just two years after the Cubs had blown their chance to participate. Nonetheless, the city in large measure came out to support the White Sox – the true-blue fans as well as the fair-weathered ones.

But with it the World Series brought a whole host of visitors from far and wide. Hotels were sold out – not just in Chicago, but in the suburbs, too. You couldn't get a reservation at a decent restaurant. Finding room to belly up to a bar was next to impossible. A cab in River North? Forget it. Just walk.

Astros fans, baseball fans, corporate sponsors, those who just wanted to say they went to a World Series game – one and all, they descended on Chicago like vultures, turning the city upside down for the first weekend of the 2005 World Series Championship.

Among them was Kimberly Cannon. Kim had arrived the Thursday before the first game on a Delta flight from Atlanta with a dozen co-workers. Being employed by one of Major League Baseball's major sponsors got her easy access to tickets. Being employed in the sponsor's marketing department with daily interaction with the MLB got her into a private box at the stadium and a small suite at the Palmer House Hilton.

Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on how one looked at it – she had had to leave her husband and two daughters behind. Tom wasn't happy about it, but the demand on the company's tickets and box access was too great to allow for spouses to attend, at least at Kim's level within the corporate hierarchy. Sure, Betsy, Kim's boss, had brought her husband. But Kim's of seventeen years had been forced to stay at home with the girls, relegated to watching the games on television.

While some of the younger company attendees had departed the Cell for the bars and clubs of Rush and Division, Kim returned to the Palmer House with Betsy, Betsy's husband, and a few mid-level MLB personnel. The rest of the returning crew opted for bed, but Kim stopped by the bar off the main lobby for a drink before retiring. Through the game, she had gulped down a few beers before switching to vodka-and-tonics; she wanted her buzz to keep her going a little while longer.

The bar at the Palmer House is by no means a Chicago hotspot. Nonetheless, it was quite crowded after the first game had let out. Kim elbowed her way to the bar and ordered a Cosmopolitan. Sipping from the glass, she waited until a seat opened at the bar and slid into it, smoothing the back of her gray, just-above-the-knee skirt as she sat.

Being alone, and not knowing anyone at the bar, Kim looked around her, peering through the cigarette and cigar smoke that drifted toward the ceiling, and eavesdropped on the conversations taking place beside her.

An elderly couple seated next to her paid their tab and rose to leave; Kim ordered another Cosmo from the bartender when he came to collect the couple's tab.

* * *

Gary, also in town for the opening game of the Series, had been sitting at a low table set away from the bar with a few of his friends. Graduates of Northwestern's business school, now flung across the country and, in one case, Southeast Asia, they had all met back in Chicago to attend Game 1.

Single, with considerable disposable income, Gary was playing the game. He looked around the bar – as he did at every bar – for any opportunity he could find to quench his sexual desires. The Palmer House was perhaps not the best scouting field, but several opportunities did present themselves.

When he saw Kim hike her trim rear-end onto the bar stool, he made his choice. He had tuned out the conversation around him, watching her as she brushed a few stray strands of long, dirty blonde hair behind an ear before tipping the martini glass against her full lips.

She looked his way without actually seeing him, and Gary smiled inwardly. 'What a beauty,' he thought, taking in sparkling green eyes that sat above high cheekbones and an elegant, perfectly proportioned nose.

When the elderly couple sitting next to her at the bar rose, so too did Gary, taking his drink with him. "Be back in a bit," he muttered to his friends.

* * *

Approaching the bar, Gary slid into the just-vacated seat next to Kim and ordered another scotch-and-soda for himself.

"I've never seen this place so crowded," he said to Kim, looking around.

She glanced his way and gave him a small smile to acknowledge his presence.

"Let me guess," he continued despite her lack of encouragement. He feigned concentration, his thumb and forefinger at his temples. "You're here for the Series."

Kim smiled wryly, finishing the last of her Cosmo. "Wow, you're incredible! How'd you do that?" she asked rhetorically, setting the empty glass on the bar. "I mean, you're in a hotel bar full of tourists, it's the weekend of the World Series, and you actually managed to divine that I'm in town for the World Series."

Gary gave her a sly smile, ignoring the thick sarcasm. "It's my sixth sense."

"Yeah, I bet," she responded as the bartender approached with their drinks. Kim reached for her clutch.

"No, no. Let me get it," Gary insisted, pulling a twenty dollar bill from his wallet. "What kind of gentleman would I be to let such a beautiful young woman pay for her own drink?"

Placing their drinks before them, the bartender rolled his eyes at Kim before swiping the bill from the bar. Kim mirrored him, though she secretly reveled in the attention of young men.

"Mind if I join you?" Gary asked, all confidence as though there was no way the striking woman would decline him.

"You already have, haven't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I have."

"Then you're welcome to stay." She raised her glass to the young man and they clinked. "Thanks for the drink."

"My pleasure," he said, taking a sip. "So, was I right? About the World Series, I mean."

"Mm-hm."

"Little dressed up for a ball game, don't you think?"

"Not really. If I was in the bleachers, sure. But I was in a box with some co-workers and clients."

"Nice seats."

"Very nice seats."

"And booze, too, I'm sure."

"And booze, too." She smiled at that, and took a long pull from her Cosmo.

"So, where are your co-workers and clients now? You look like you're here alone."

"That's because I am. They're either out at the clubs or hit the sack early."

"Leaving you all alone."

"Leaving me all alone."

"No husband?"

"No husband."

"At all, or just not here?" Gary strained for a look at her left hand. It was bare of any jewelry, with only a barely visible tan line at the base of the cherry-red manicured ring finger.

Kim just shrugged her shoulders again. The action caused her large breasts to rise then fall with a tight jiggle.

"Is that a tan line on your finger?" he asked, reaching across her for her hand and gently taking it in his.

She simply nodded her head.

"Married?"

Another nod. Kim's emerald eyes locked on his searching ones.

"So, where's the ring?"

"I took it off," she responded demurely, almost beneath her breath.

Gary's eyebrows arched in mock surprise. "Really?" It wasn't quite a question.

"Really."

"Hmph." He took a long pull from his drink, Kim's soft hand still cradled in his, his thumb lightly rubbing over the smooth flesh that normally sported her engagement and wedding rings. "Mind if I ask why?"

"No."

He paused, waiting for her to continue.

"No, you don't mind, or no, I can't ask?"

"I don't mind if you ask."

Gary waited for her to continue, but she didn't. "Ooo-kay. Then tell me, why did you take it off?"

Kim looked around to ensure that no one was listening before she answered. Leaning closer to the young man, her full breasts squishing against his muscular arm, she whispered in his ear. "I take it off when I wanna fuck."

Her hot breath caressing his inner ear – and the filthiness of her words – caused Gary's cock to stir in his pants. He let that sink in for a moment.

"Tan line's kind of faint," he said, his eyes focused on the pale band of flesh on the otherwise tan skin.

"I take it off a lot," she responded, again with a wry smile.

Gary returned her smile, and then took another drink.

"I think you should put it back on," he announced confidently, almost as a command.

"Oh, really. And why is that?"

"It belongs on your finger, doesn't it? Didn't your husband put it there on your wedding day?"

She frowned at the brash young man. "Why do you care so much? You're not my husband."

This time, it was Gary who leaned close. "No, but if I'm going to stretch your little married vagina tonight, I want that ring on your finger while I'm doing it."

Kim leaned back, somewhat surprised at the kid's bluntness. A smile crept across her face, parting her silky red lips and revealing her bright white teeth. She gave him a short nod and reached for her clutch, resting on the bar between them. She snapped it open, dug around inside, and pulled two rings from within.

The fingers of her left hand spread before her, long red nails gleaming in the faint overhead light, Kim slowly slid the diamond-encrusted wedding band on her ring finger, twisting gently to ease it over her second knuckle.

"Better?" she teased.

"Almost."

Kim smiled at the young man as she slid the engagement ring on. The light from above, while dim, caused the ensemble of diamonds to glitter brightly in Gary's eyes.

"How 'bout now?"

"Much better." He again took Kim's small hand in his and bent, kissing the back of her hand. The three-karat diamond scraped softly across the flesh of his chin as he did.

Gary straightened and took a sip of his drink. The heat from the head of his cock burned into his thigh.

"Not sure your husband should ever let you travel," he announced, sotto voce.

"Prob'ly not," she agreed, downing the rest of her Cosmo and ordering another.

"Sure you can handle another drink?"

"Of course."

"That's – what? – three now?"

"S'far as you know."

"Quite a bit for such a little woman."

"Don' worry yourself. Loosens me up."

"I'd rather be the one to loosen you up."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Kim smiled, lifting her refreshed drink to her shiny lips.

"You gonna take me up to your room any time soon?"

"Soon 'nough."

"Make love to me?"

Kim just shook her head.

"No?"

"I only make love to my husband."

Gary was amused but a little confused. "But you cheat on your husband. How do you do that if you make love only to him?"

Her lips parted in a wicked smile. "I said, 'I only make love to my husband.'" She leaned into him again, whispering in his ear. "I FUCK strange young men that I meet in hotel bars."

Gary nodded his understanding as a chill ran up his spine, but wanted her to clarify the difference for him.

"Well," she responded, "when Tom and I make love, its nice and slow. Missionary, you know? I might ride him once in a while. He strokes my hair, tells me how beautiful I am, how much he loves me. Very gentle."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, but fucking is different," she began, turning on her stool to face him directly, leaning closer to him. She rested her left hand on his thigh. "When I get fucked, I want to be on all fours, my hair wrapped 'round some strange guy's fist as he yanks my head back. I want sweat pouring off my body."

She paused to hiccup.

"Pardon me. I want to be spanked. I want to ride young, thick cock in reverse cowgirl, my bald little cunt split wide open with a few fingers buried deep in my asshole. I want my nipples pinched and twisted. I want to be called nasty names, to be degraded."

Gary shuddered at the lady's depravity. "Not gentle," he muttered, his cock throbbing against his thigh.

Kim's emerald eyes bore into his and she slowly shook her head, her dirty blonde tresses whispering over her shoulders; a few loose strands fell from behind an ear, partially obscuring her classic beauty. "Not gentle at all," she breathed. "Very, very nasty."

"Let's get outta here."

Kim pushed herself off the stool, her manicured fingers bracing against Gary's thigh, brushing against his swollen shaft. Her full, wet lips descended on his ear. "Only if you promise to punish my cheating cunt."

"I . . . promise," he gulped, his mouth parched.

* * *

Kim slipped the magnetic keycard into the lock and, hearing it click, pushed the heavy oak door open, stepping into her mini-suite and flicking on a light.

Gary followed her, coming up behind her as the door swung shut behind him. Circling his arms around her trim waist from behind, he used his chin and nose to edge her dirty blonde locks to the side, nuzzling her soft neck and earlobe. He inhaled her perfume – and the vodka she had been pouring down her throat.

Kim stopped at the contact and moaned her approval as Gary's hands slid up her torso, his palms brushing over her large tits. Deftly, his fingers found the top button of her white silk blouse and undid it before continuing to the next. When he had pulled the last button from its hole, he yanked the hem of her blouse from Kim's skirt and then off her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the thick carpet at his feet.

He felt for but couldn't find the catch at the front of her bra and instead simply yanked the silky fabric out and down. Kim's massive breasts popped from the D-sized cups as Gary nipped at her earlobe, the pearl stud clanking against his teeth. He strummed his fingers across her distended nipples before taking them in his thumbs and forefingers, pinching them lightly.

Moaning, Kim pushed herself away from the young man. She kicked the heels from her feet, one of them thudding against the drywall. Turning, she threw her arms around Gary's broad neck, draping her little body against his. Their lips met and her tongue slithered from between her ruby red lips, probing his mouth while she anxiously tore open the buttons of his shirt.

Gary groaned into her mouth, his tongue thrashing against hers, the smell and taste of alcohol strong on her breath. Kim's soft palms smoothed the shirt over his shoulders before her long nails pulled his belt buckle loose and ripped open the front of his pants. Sliding them down, the adulterous woman squatted, helping him out of his shoes before pulling the fabric of his pants and boxers over his feet.

Kneeling before him, Kim pushed the twenty-something against the entryway wall, her cherry-red nails pressing into the flesh of his thighs as her soft lips descended on the shaft that bobbed before her angelic face.

There was no subtlety to Kim's conduct. She wrapped her elegant fingers around the thick cock, circled her full lips, and slid them down the length of Gary's veiny shaft, not stopping until the fat mushroom-shaped head bumped against the back of her throat. She pulled back, half of the thick shaft protruding from between her lips, and jammed her face back on it, causing her to gag.

Saliva poured from her mouth, rendering a glossy sheen to her ruby lips. It slid down her chin and dripped to her jutting breasts as she bobbed her head back and forth. Above her, Gary braced himself against the wall with one hand, placing the other on the back of her head in a useless effort to guide what didn't need to be guided.

Kim moved in closer to the young man, dropping to her haunches, and cradled his heavy balls, kneading them in her long fingers. Her own spit dripped from her distended nipples as her fingers strayed from the hanging nutsack to the sensitive perineum toward his asshole.

Gary shuddered and his knees almost buckled at the sensation. With Kim's shiny lips sealed tightly around his invading shaft, the sensitive head tickling the back of her throat, his cock lurched in the hot sucking mouth and she backed off.

Kim pulled her sloppy face from the young man's crotch and regained her feet, leading him into the living area. As she approached the couch, she noted the flashing 'message waiting' light on the room phone. 'Probably Tom,' she thought. She gave it a mental shrug and turned and pushed Gary onto the couch. With a bare foot, she prodded his legs apart before kneeling before him again.

His cock still slick with a mixture of her saliva and his pre-cum, Kim wrapped her fist around the thick girth of him and it easily glided up and down his length. Lifting her torso and leaning forward, her massive breasts cleared Gary's thighs and settled to either side of his gleaming shaft.

She released him from her grip and placed her hands, slender fingers spread wide, against the outside of her soft but firm breasts. "Tittyfuck me," she commanded, pushing the globes together, creating a tight cleavage around Gary's cock.

He groaned as the warm, soft flesh molded itself to his veiny shaft and bucked his hips slightly, burying his cock in Kim's breasts. Pre-cum leaked from the winking tip of his cock and was swept away by her flesh, adding lubrication to her tight cleavage.

In front of him, on her knees, Kim raised and lowered her torso, dragging her soft tits up and down the length of Gary's shaft. Sweat formed across her forehead and at her upper lip from the effort; it glistened in the faint light cast by a table lamp throughout the room.

"That's it," she whispered when Gary bucked his hips again, the head of his cock gently nudging against the underside of her jaw. "Fuck these tits."

She pressed her torso harder against him and the sensitive underside of his cock coursed over her chest bone.

"Oh, gawd," he moaned, his large hands falling to the cushions, gripping them tightly.

Kim increased the speed with which she rocked against him, the tightness of her breasts pulling at the skin of his shaft, her breastbone crashing against the base of his cock.

Gary's head thrashed from side to side against the back of the couch. "Oh, fuck, ofuck," he muttered, his tongue thick. His cockhead turned a deeper shade of purple and lost its texture, taking on a smooth and shiny appearance.