Room 803


My hands had never been bound before. Even now, hours after he'd tied me the welts were still visible. I rubbed my wrists for the hundredth time and pulled my cuffs down low to conceal them. I had a presentation at work today, and this was the last thing I needed the Board to see. My hands trembled as I smeared on my lipstick.

"Last minute nerves, Jade?" My roomy, Bryony, looked over my shoulder and grinned at the shitty job I was making of my make-up. "You'll be fabulous, honey, don't be anxious. You're always nervous beforehand and then you always knock 'em dead."

If you say so." I closed my eyes and remembered Mark's tongue in my mouth, warm and wet. Just thinking about it sent a wave of euphoria through my body. I dropped my lipstick in my handbag and threw my laptop bag over my shoulder.

"Just remember to take deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth." This was Bryony's answer to everything. I thought about my breathing last night which had been rapid and deep. Another wave. I had to shake this off. I had a job to do.

"I'll be late home again tonight. Don't wait up for me."

Bryony grinned and flashed me a knowing wink in the mirror. "Oh, was he worth it?"

If only I could tell her. "What a dirty mind you have."

Her grin broadened and she raised her hands. "Hey, I don't judge. Lord knows you could use a little fun. Always Miss Serious."

I wasn't about to give her details but neither did I want to lie. I just smiled back at her and hoped my enigmatic grin conveyed all she needed to know.

Bryony shook her head, laughing, and opened the apartment door. "I'll see you when I see you."


Will you let me bind you?

In hindsight, it had been rather foolish, but the risk only fueled my desire. He could have suggested anything and I would have done it. Stupid, but I'd have been unable to stop myself. I glanced at the clock. Time to get a move on.

I grabbed my keys, made my way downstairs and marched to the Subway. I found an empty seat, and as the train rolled out of the station I thought about Mark again. There had been plenty of empty seats at the hotel bar last night, but he had taken the one right beside me, cutting me off from the other customers. I knew he wanted me then. He was hot and I was open to seeing where this would go.

"Did you eat here?"

"I did."

"Anything good?"

"I had the kebab."

He nodded and called the barman over. "Caesar salad and shrimp. And water."

I smiled. So much for my suggestion.

"What are you drinking?" He gestured to my wine glass.

I could have said no. I could have shut the door on him right there. But I didn't want to.


The barman nodded and took my glass.

"My name's Mark."

"I'm Jade."

"Tough day at work?"

I turned on my stool to look at him properly. He had clever, gray eyes and a serious mouth that wanted to smile at the edges. I liked his thick mop of hair.

"Something like that."

The barman deposited a full glass in front of me and I took a thoughtful sip. I liked Mark. I wondered why I hadn't seen him before.

"What do you do?" I asked.

"I'm a pilot."

"Ooh, for a big airliner?"

"No, better, a Lear jet. It's a private company plane, I fly the big boss wherever he wants to go."


"I'll be here in Baltimore for a week while he struts his stuff."

My curiosity was piqued. "What do you do while you wait?"

"Golf mostly. And other things."

"Such as?"

The corners of that firm mouth twitched a little. His salad arrived and he was spared answering anything for a moment while he ate.

I noticed my glass was half-empty already. I was drinking a little quick, even for me. Nerves, perhaps? I decided to slow down.

We talked a little about his life. General things, nothing meaningful. I learned Mark was from Texas, was divorced from his second wife, and had a ten-year-old son who still lived with him.

"Me and Daisy share custody, we try to get on okay, for the kid's sake."

I nodded. He had a passion for Sci-Fi novels and loved to go on cruises when he had the chance.

Mark didn't ask much about my life. Just enough to be polite.

"Would you like a little fun?"

The question came out of nowhere and I hid behind my glass. I had known this was coming for some time but still my cheeks flushed crimson.

"No, I don't think so. Sorry."

I knew I didn't mean it but it was a knee-jerk response and I didn't want to make things too easy for him. If he left me now, so be it. Yet I hoped he wouldn't give in too easily. Thankfully, he did not.

"You have a boyfriend?"

I'd been unattached for some time, but I didn't want him to know this, in case he thought I was desperate. "No. But I don't really know you, so...."

"What would you like to know? I'm thirty-two, charming, and I love older women."

I wasn't sure if I should be insulted by that or not. I had to admit, Mark wasn't wrong though. I was forty-nine. But there was no need for me to be precise about my age.

"You think I'm old?"

"I didn't say you're old or look old. I'm just saying I like women who're a little bit older than me. Especially when they obviously take very good care of themselves."

Mark smiled. My ego was appeased.

"I'm staying in room 803. I'm going up for a shower now. If you're interested, come up. If not, I had a pleasant evening."

Mark beckoned the barman over and settled his tab. As he slid off the chair, he gave me one last look. "803. I think you'd enjoy me."

And then he was gone. Without a backward look, he left the bar. From where I sat I could see him summon the elevator. When he turned to face the door our eyes made contact for just a sizzling second. Then the door closed and he was gone.

My mind was a muddle. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I'd fucked someone. The sensible voice in my head was quiet now, and all I could think of was how good it might be, and how stupid it would be to walk away from such an opportunity. And yet I knew nothing about this man. The risk was all mine. If I were thinking straight, I would reproach myself for even considering it. I couldn't blame the wine. I'd been perfectly sober when Mark walked into the bar, perfectly in control. But from the second he'd sat down beside me, I'd known where this was going.

803. I think you'd enjoy me

The barman probably knew exactly what was going on and I hated him for that. I stared into his eyes as he ran my bill but his poker-face was in place and he gave nothing away at all. I signed my tab and said thanks, slipped ten bucks under my glass, and headed for the ladies' room as nonchalantly as I could manage, determined not to embarrass myself by sprinting for the elevator. Inside, I stood in front of the mirror, my heart thumping against my ribs as I touched up my makeup. I was still kidding myself that I wouldn't go, when I knew otherwise. Wild horses couldn't have stopped me. My panties were sodden, my nipples were so stiff they ached. I barely recognized this stranger who stared back at me, face flushed, eyes sparkling, shiny lips parted with desire

803. I think you'd enjoy me.

As the elevator lights blinked past each floor, my anxiety increased. My palms were sweating and I kept wondering what would happen on the other side of that door.

Room 803 was situated at the far end of the corridor. I paused outside, staring at the little spy-hole, not daring to knock. I was suddenly very aware of how foolish this was -- and the weight of all the risk hit me at once. But I wanted what was on the other side of the door. So I knocked.

There was no look of surprise on his face, no - I knew you would come -- nothing. Mark simply smiled pleasantly and stood aside so I could pass through.

"Nice suite," I said, for something to say, something to cover the awkwardness.

"Make yourself comfortable." Mark pointed to the bottle of wine nestled in an ice bucket by the television. "Pour us both a drink. I'm going to have a shower. You want one?"

"I'm good thanks."

"Take your clothes off and wait for me."

Mark had already uncorked the bottle. My hands were shaking as I poured two glasses. I got a warm buzz as yet more alcohol entered my system. I wasn't drunk, just comfortable. It was a pleasant suite. And there was a large, black sports bag on the bed. Other than that, there didn't seem to be anything else of his.

While the shower hissed in the background I walked to the window and pulled back the sheer curtain.

The room should have had a sweeping view of the valley, but it was dark, and I entertained myself by figuring out what landmark was marked by each cluster of lights. It was impossible, but it killed a little time. Funny. Admiring the view, I was comfortable. Looking back into his room, I felt lost.

The shower stopped. And I was still dressed.

Take your clothes off and wait for me.

I kicked off my heels, and as quick as my hands would allow I pulled off my pants, hose, and panties. And yet I still had on my blouse which still kept everything modest. For some reason, I couldn't remove that. I pulled my bra out through my sleeves and draped it over a chair with the other clothes.

Mark emerged from the shower wearing nothing but a crisp white towel around his waist. He kept in good shape, and my eyes followed the flow of his damp chest hair down whittling down toward his mid-section. His legs were long and firm, and he was drying his hair with a second towel. He said nothing about my blouse, but picked up his wine glass and took a sip of it, gazing at me over the rim. I wondered what he was thinking.

Mark put the glass down, walked over, and kissed me on the lips. His kiss was gentle at first, not probing, and my skin tingled as his mouth grazed mine. I tasted the wine on him and inhaled the strong, woody musk of the shower gel that oozed from all his pores. His hands remained resolutely on my hips, unmoving.

"Take off your shirt."

I stopped breathing. Mark took a step back and just watched me. I had hoped he would take it off himself, maybe after we were rolling around on the bed, but no. Mark wanted to do this by the window, and with a good few feet between us. My heart raced -- terrified -- but so turned on. Slowly I raised the blouse over my head -- not to tease him, but because I was shaking so much. I couldn't have managed the buttons if I tried. After the blouse fell to the floor I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Put your hands by your side."

Trembling, I did as he asked.

He studied me for a moment, unashamedly staring at my imperfect breasts. I thought them a little too big, and I wished the nipples sat a little higher. His eyes swept unchecked over my body, from my lowered eyes to my locked legs. It was a miracle my knees didn't give way beneath me.

"Will you let me bind you?"

I felt giddy and aroused and unsure of myself all at the same time. My nod was almost imperceptible. I was sure he caught it but he didn't move. "Yes," I said. There was a tremor in my voice.

Mark grabbed the bag off the bed and pulled some rope out from inside.

"Put out your hands."

I did as I was told, and he wrapped the cords around my wrists. The rope was secure, but not so tight as to cut off my circulation. When he was done, he led me to the bed.

"Lie down on your belly."

Using my knees I climbed up the bed toward the pillows. I couldn't quite get comfortable, but Mark reached over me and arranged things carefully so my neck wasn't strained and my hands were comfortably looped over my head. Then I felt him position himself between my legs and heard a slight 'pop.' I tried to turn to see what the sound was.

"Just relax."

The smell of baby oil was unmistakable. I closed my eyes as he rubbed the lotion into my shoulders, lifted my hair to massage my neck, then down over my back and along my arms, all the while rubbing in a firm, sensual, circular motion that left me yearning for more.

Every now and then his hand would catch the sides of my breasts, perhaps by accident, perhaps not, and I would groan into the pillow.

After a while, he shuffled back. I heard him splash more lotion into his palms. His experienced hands fanned from my upper buttocks to my waist, then drifted, down, down again, covering every sensuous centimeter of skin which reeled under his touch. My alert mind tracked every movement, always conscious of exactly where he was, yet longing for him to venture south to more exotic pastures.

But Mark was in no hurry, and he lingered a while in that territory until there was no stress left in my body and I became one with the bed and his hands. Ever so gently he teased the folds of my butt, rubbing the oil all around. But though I caught my breath he only pressed his finger at my opening -- he never pushed inside.

And then his fingers brushed my clit. I was an erotic fireball, and I moaned into my pillow. Tease that he was he stopped and resumed caressing my butt cheeks. I yearned for him to touch me again, but he had his own agenda and I could do nothing but lie there and want, want, want.

I arched up to him, anticipating every touch, drowning in the desire he provoked in me. I was ready to beg him to fuck me. My pussy was awake now, and it demanded attention. But still, Mark just stroked and kneaded and worked me into an ecstatic fury.

Mark must have decided the time was right because his finger ran the length of my slit. I almost levitated off the bed and thrust back hard to trick his hand inside me. But he was in control, and I had no choice except to submit to his gentle brushes and tender probes.

Somewhere in my head, I was aware of my bonds and the slight burn where I fought against my restraints. But I was beyond feeling pain. There was only Mark, and the delight his fingers elicited on my clit. Round and round he caressed that engorged button until he had me squirming on the bed like an angry snake.

By the time my release came I was savage, screaming out at the top of my lungs, oblivious to the sleeping souls in the rooms around us.

Then, and only then, did Mark flip me over. I vaguely registered a hearty, sheathed cock lowering down between my legs and when he entered me I gasped, my cunt enveloping his dick and sucking him into my wet and dark abyss.

Every thrust sent an echo of that orgasm through my body, and I wanted to hold him, to tear at his muscles and pull him into me.

His mouth was on mine; his kiss was as deep and penetrating as his cock. My body arched as flesh teased flesh, and when I closed my eyes I focused on his dick, pulling on my pussy folds, then sinking back in to connect with my womb.

The aroma of sex was heavy in the room, our mutual sweat permeating the air and circling around all us. His fucking became hard and determined, and my delight intensified as his cock thickened and he pulsed his come inside me.

Down, down and down we came, my head free of all thoughts and concerns. There was only the memory of our mutual orgasms, still hanging in the room like a delightful fog. As my breathing became normal, Mark kissed my mouth, neck, and nipples. I groaned a little as his cock slipped away from me. I felt the loss of it -- and the certainty that at least for now, and perhaps forever, this moment was done.

With a gentleness that surprised me, he untied my wrists, lightly rubbing the skin where the cords had chaffed. He kissed the inside of my wrist, and opened my palm, kissing that too. I melted.

I had forgotten I was naked. I didn't mind that I was anymore.

"You are beautiful,' Mark said.

For once, I didn't argue.

As the train rattled through the subway tunnels, I closed my eyes and remembered that final moment. I still had today to get through. But then there would be tonight. And room 803.

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by Anonymous

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by starhunter08/25/17


A short but sweet story. Keep posting more. Cheers!

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