Room 1031

Story Info
What Happens in New Orleans.
4.6k words
4.02
30.6k
20
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Have you ever had an experience that changed the direction of your life in an instant? About a year ago I did. It wasn't an instant. It was more like five hours but it made a change in my life like nothing I'd ever experienced before, or since.

Let me explain.

Last fall I attended an intense four-day conference in New Orleans. My employer was instrumental in organizing and running the conference so I had a significant role in the on-site management of the various venues and attendees.

New Orleans is a unique environment with incredible architecture and a vibrant nightlife. You might be envious of me having to spend four days in that invigorating city. You'd be disappointed to hear that I saw none of it. I spent the entire four days in the conference center and saw little else except for a quick five or six hours of sleep in my hotel room each night.

By eight o'clock Thursday evening the attendees had all embarked for the airport, the vendors had packed their wares and were headed home and I, finally, was headed for the lounge in my hotel to consume a few adult beverages, breathe the stale air, let my hair down and relax before I had to pack for my early flight home the next day.

I was sitting at the bar, sipping a lime cosmopolitan, minding my own business, relishing going home in the morning. A non-descript gentleman was sitting three stools away from me with his own glass of amber liquid. I glanced in his direction, a normal action under the circumstances, curious about the only other patron of the lounge.

He had a mysterious air about him. He didn't seem very tall, maybe five foot six or seven. He appeared to be European but his nationality wasn't easily determined. His hair was combed straight back in the Italian style but without the usual pomade and his features were more middle European than Italian. He was dressed immaculately in a wool suit of British design, possibly Seville Row with a white shirt and ascot, not a tie. His shoes appeared to be Moroccan leather loafers with dark socks. His hands had long fingers with manicured nails.

He was sitting quietly manipulating three coins in his left hand. I couldn't make out the nature of the currency but it wasn't American. They were worn copper coins larger than a quarter but smaller than a half dollar, maybe pre-decimal British coppers. He was holding them vertically with three fingers and using his thumb to roll one of the coins over the other two and ending with all three vertically between his fingers again. I watched as he rolled the two coins on the outside up between his thumb and forefinger and used his middle finger to rotate the remaining coin one hundred eighty degrees before rolling the other two coins down beside it again.

Overall, an exotic figure that intrigued me. Don't misunderstand my interest. It was just that, an interest. I'd been married for twenty-one years. I'd never strayed. I'd never even considered straying and I wasn't looking to stray that night. I was just curious about the gentleman sharing the bar with me. I looked away before he would notice me staring at him.

Curiosity is a powerful emotion. I couldn't help myself. I looked at him again. This time he caught me. He was looking in my direction. Trapped, I responded politely. I smiled. He smiled back, tipped his glass in my direction, looked away and continued rolling the coins.

The next time I looked, he was looking directly at me. He was turned in his seat so he was facing me as well. I smiled. He smiled then he leaned forward and patted the seat of the stool next to him with his right hand. His left had continued to roll the coins. It was clearly an invitation to join him.

I was hesitant but that curiosity thing emerged again. "What the hell," I thought. "How could it hurt to join him for a few minutes? I could use some light conversation and I might even learn something about him."

I nodded, picked up my glass, slid off my stool and moved in his direction. He leaned forward again and rotated the stool so that it was facing him when I got there. I climbed up on the stool next to him and he turned away, focusing on his whiskey and rolling the coins.

"What the fuck?" I thought. "He invites me to sit next to him and then ignores me. Not even a word of 'Hello' or any indication that I was there." I might have been insulted at his indifference but my curiosity was now raging and I was fascinated watching him manipulate the coins.

He finished his drink, put the empty glass on the bar and turned to me. Without a word, he indicated my drink and I realized he wanted me to finish it. I swallowed the last half ounce and put the empty glass on the bar next to his. His broad smile conveyed his pleasure with my compliance with his silent request. The only sounds were the clink of the coins he continued to roll in his left hand.

He signaled the bartender to refill both glasses. When the drinks were placed in front of us, he took my second lime cosmopolitan and moved it toward me. When I reached for the glass, his fingers lingered until they touched my fingertips. What I can only describe as an electric current moved from my fingers, up my forearm, past my elbow and shoulder and terminated in my primitive brain.

This man was holding my attention three ways. I was confused by my reaction to his touch, I was focused on the way he was rolling the coins and my curiosity was on fire. All without a single spoken word between us.

He sipped his drink and put his hand on the bar. I sipped my drink and put my hand on the bar as well. He moved his hand until it covered mine. The electricity of his previous touch became a vibration from my hand, up the left side of my body and ricocheted down my core to my crotch. I'd never experienced anything like it before. My mind was preoccupied processing the erotic feeling of the vibration and the coins constantly changing position in his fingers.

I didn't notice him place the coins in a neat stack on the bar until he placed his left hand on my right knee. The shock embraced the rest of my body, my entire right side and everything below my waist. The feeling wasn't unpleasant. It was surprisingly agreeable. More than agreeable. Erotic. I felt my panties getting wet.

He picked up his glass and drank the contents in one swallow while moving his left hand further up my thigh until it was under the hem of my skirt. My panties weren't getting wet, they were soaked.

He put the empty glass on the bar, reached into his jacket pocket and placed three twenties on the bar. He reached into his pocket again and produced a card key envelope that he put on the bar next to the twenties. He squeezed my thigh slightly, nodded at me, stood up and walked slowly out of the lounge.

I looked at the bills and room key while trying to control my hormones. The twenties were for the bartender. The room key for me. I couldn't help myself. I swallowed my drink, picked up the three coins he'd left in a neat stack and the room key. I rationalized that I had to return the coins to him as a courtesy.

I took the elevator to the tenth floor and walked to room 1031. I knocked gently and when there was no response, I used the magnetic card to unlock and open the door. The room was gently lit with a glow from the bathroom around the partially closed door. The mysterious gentleman was sitting on the side of an enormous bed waiting for me as the door closed behind me. I held out my hand holding the coins. He took the coins from me and looked at the dresser against the wall. I placed the room key and my purse on the dresser.

He looked behind me. I looked around and saw only the door. Something told me to lock the door so I turned, engaged the bolt door lock and flipped the intrusion bar into place before turning back to face him.

He seemed pleased as he rolled the coins in his left hand. I stood in front of him waiting, almost hoping, for what came next.

He stared into my eyes and then down to the top of my blouse. When he did it a second time, I thought I knew what he wanted. Powerless to stop my hands and fingers, I unbuttoned the top button of my blouse. He conveyed his approval by holding his hands together in his lap and smiling.

Slowly, unconsciously, I unbuttoned the seven buttons of my blouse until I reached the bottom where it was tucked into the waist of my skirt. To this day I can't explain why I unbuttoned my blouse. My only defense was I wanted to know everything about him and I was willing to do anything to learn it. And then there were those damned coins.

Once the blouse was unbuttoned, the rest was inevitable. I pulled the blouse from my skirt, unbuttoned the cuffs and removed it. I folded it neatly and placed it on a nearby chair. I could see the delight in his smile as I turned back to face him. He was again rolling the coins in his left hand.

I was wearing a camisole under my blouse. I pulled it from my skirt and added it to the blouse on the chair. I stood in front of him in my beige bra. His broad smile encouraged me further and I couldn't get the effects of his touch in the bar out of my mind.

I unbuttoned my skirt, unzipped it and let it fall around my feet. My half-slip fell on top of it. I stepped out of the pile of my clothing and kicked it aside. I lifted my right leg to remove my two inch heeled shoe. He held out a hand in support and I held it for balance while I removed both shoes and tossed them aside as well.

His touch was still electric and my already wet panties became even wetter.

I stood in front of him in only my bra and panties. Was I embarrassed? No, however, in a single stray thought, I wondered if he found the little red bows at the sides of my panties immature. The question would never be answered since he motioned me to turn around.

I pirouetted slowly, allowing him time to observe my entire body. When I was facing him again, he smiled, looked me in the eye and then down at my chest. I knew the motion and I knew what he wanted. He waited patiently, rolling the coins in his left hand almost reflexively.

I hesitated for only a minute until I reached up behind my back, unhooked my bra and allowed it to fall proudly to the floor. I'd always thought of my breasts as my best asset and my husband agreed. Now I was going to get an unbiased opinion.

I heard him inhale sharply as my bra fell to the floor. Mission accomplished. My breasts now had more of his attention that those friggin' coins.

He motioned for me to approach him. I stepped up slowly with short steps until I was standing next to the bed and between his knees. He reached up and held a breast in each hand. I have no idea where the coins were. My body quivered in a way I hadn't felt before. When he ran his thumbs over my nipples, I had an orgasm.

When he motioned me to step back I returned to my original position. My panties were soaked and in danger of leaking down my thighs. I knew what was next and I wondered, briefly, how I was going to accomplish it without making a mess and embarrassing myself.

I didn't wonder for long. He got on his knees in front of me, touched the inside of my thighs and I spread my legs further apart. He reached out with one hand and cupped my quivering and very wet, mound. I could feel his fingers twitch between my legs and I had another orgasm.

He removed his hand, smelled and tasted his fingers and smiled while I had another unmanageable orgasm. The repeated orgasms were beginning to affect my balance and I stumbled slightly. He steadied me with both hands on my hips and then took hold of my panties at the position of the little red bows.

He pulled my panties down with both hands. They clung between my thighs and he pulled further. Eventually, they came loose with the weight of my orgasms and they fell to the floor. He helped me balance as I stepped out of them and kicked them aside, before he returned to sitting on the bed.

I stood before him, totally naked. I threw my head and shoulders back and stood proudly, a naked woman in a man's hotel room. A room where my nakedness should have given me a womanly edge.

It was not to be. He had me turn around again and, when I was facing him again, he was standing, waiting for me. He took my shoulders, turned me around, backed me against the bed and had me sit. Now he was standing in front of me.

He took off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the same chair with my blouse and camisole on it. His ascot and shirt followed. His torso was bare beneath his shirt. He had nicely formed pectorals and a decent amount of chest hair. He kicked off his loafers and pulled off his socks demonstrating a superb sense of balance in the process.

He removed his belt, undid his trousers and removed them one leg at a time. He smiled at me as he stood in front of me in just a pair of plaid boxer shorts. He smiled at me and then down at his shorts. We had played this scene already only with reversed roles.

I got on the floor in front of him. I hoped the way I was shaking inside in anticipation of what was happening wasn't obvious externally. I looked up into his eyes as I took hold of the sides of his boxers. He closed his eyes as I began to pull them down over his thighs and knees until they fell on the floor around his ankles. Only then did I look in front of me.

His testicles were large and inviting but his penis was limp and only about three inches long. I was expecting more. The last hour seemed anticlimactic when the payoff was a three-inch penis. He seemed unfazed. He leaned over, took my hand and placed it on his penis.

Suppressing my disappointment, I began to stroke his limp penis. I wasn't surprised as it began to grow and stiffen. I was surprised when it continued to grow larger and bulkier. I felt a sense of power as his erection grew in my hands. I was causing it to grow. I was affecting him much as he had been affecting me. Within minutes, I was using both hands to control the seven-inch monster in front of me.

I looked up and he was looking down and smiling again. He nodded and I looked at his erection. I felt an overwhelming urge to kiss it and have it in my mouth. He didn't resist as I leaned forward, kissed the head of his erection and wrapped my mouth around it. I pushed in on it until I felt it hit the back of my throat. I stopped before I gagged and inhaled, drawing a slight vacuum around his cock.

Almost proudly, I had another orgasm, this time sure to leave a puddle on the carpet.

Unbelievably, his erection grew larger in my mouth. I could feel it tense as I sucked on it. He leaned forward, touched me on the shoulders and indicated that I should stand up. He moved me toward the bed and had me crawl into the center and lay on my back. He positioned a pillow under my head and arranged my hair on it. He used two fingers to close my eyes and crawled up next to me on the bed.

He began by running his fingers through my hair, around my ears and under my chin. He gently kissed my forehead, nose and lips while running one hand down between my breasts. If I tried to open my eyes he gently closed them and kissed each lid as if to seal it.

When his hand cupped my breast with my erect nipple between his fingers, I had the first of those level two and three on the Richter scale orgasms that signal the beginning of an explosive finish. He repeated squeezing the nipple of my other breast between his fingers and I repeated the orgasm.

The orgasms came in small bursts manageable in both intensity and time. I had another one when he found my navel with his fingers and a slightly more intense one when he tongued and sucked on my navel. By then, I had lost count and I was just riding the waves as they rippled through my body.

He continued down until he was kissing my feet and toes. The feeling was wonderful and I appreciated the break from the constant orgasms. He began to move up my legs, kissing the inside of my calves and thighs. Things got more intense when he found my clitoris. His nose was against my clitoris, his lips against my lips and his tongue probing inside me as far as it could reach. The orgasm hit suddenly and so hard I thought I might have hurt him when my hips bucked off the bed. The orgasm was a fountain of pure pleasure. Like going over Niagara Falls or swimming in orbit, always falling but never reaching the ground.

He appeared again at my head. I tried but I couldn't open my eyes. It took me a second to realize he was repeating his journey over my body a second time only this time he was using the head of his erection instead of his lips. I lay quietly as he rubbed his cock over my forehead, eyes, nose and lips. When he lingered at my lips, I opened my mouth and he slipped inside for a moment.

It was only a moment before he moved on, his erection leaving my mouth with an audible pop. That moment restarted the series of orgasms I was to feel over the next several minutes. He rubbed his erection around and over my breasts, with special attention to my painfully erect nipples. The orgasms continued.

He paused a moment at my navel to swirl his erection in the hollow and move on. He used his erection to arouse my clitoris although it didn't need much help. That orgasm was wonderful. He rubbed and slid his erection between my labia until I was almost begging him to enter me.

He ignored my begging body and continued down until he was once again favoring my feet and toes again but with his erection.

The pace changed. He started to slide up my legs, keeping his chest in contact with my calves, knees and thighs. His chest passed over my pubis and up until his chest was in contact with my breasts. I could feel his erection between my thighs and spread my legs further in anticipation. This time I was not disappointed. Without assistance, he found the entrance of my pussy and pushed the head of his erection between my labia and rested there. He maintained his position in spite of my hips shifting and trying to pull him inside me. The anticipation was consuming me and the climaxes were coming rapidly. When he was ready, he got up on his knees and entered me in a single, forceful thrust. I exploded. My orgasm was New Year's, July Fourth and Kilauea combined. I was out of control. One orgasm passed and another took its place immediately. I was hemorrhaging orgasms. The pain was unbearable and exciting. I wanted it to stop and feared it stopping at the same time.

He kept plunging and I kept orgasming. He took a short welcome break to turn me over and enter me from the rear. The orgasms returned and I floated off into wonderland. Eventually, he turned me over again and pushed a pillow under my ass. The angle of his attack changed and the increased pressure on the root of my clitoris intensified my orgasms.

Suddenly, he stopped. I waited, missing the orgasms. Then I felt the tip of his erection against the sphincter of my rectum. I'm not a prude. I've had anal sex before. I've never been particularly fond of it but I'm usually okay with it on special occasions with my husband.

This certainly was a special occasion. My partner had intensified my orgasms with every change of position so far. He probably wasn't wrong this time, so I relaxed. He used some lubricant from our coupling so far and soon he was stroking deeply inside my ass.

He was right and so was I. The orgasms returned and I was again among the stars. Without warning, he was out of my ass and back in my pussy without missing a beat. The sudden change set me off of a rampage of orgasms. My Kegel muscles were working overtime, tightening against his thrusts, and when he erupted inside me, I erupted and almost passed out. His scream as he came inside me kept me alert.

When I could breathe again, he was lying alongside me, gently massaging my breasts and playing with my hair. The orgasms were a sharp but distant memory. We lay like that for some time until we were both rested. Several times I tried to resurrect his manhood but it remained stubbornly limp and small. Without a word, he rose from the bed, walked to the dresser, opened my purse and removed my room key.

12