Room Service

The wine showed up, a bottle, a flower. I'm not sure if the concierge was a fortuneteller, or just optimistic, but there were two glasses, too.

I signed the chit, and tipped the kid five bucks.

Then the phone rang, again. What next, I thought, a fire alarm in the hall?

It was my co-worker at the office. She opened with an apology for calling me in the evening, and then proceeded to pour out all of her frustrations from the troubles earlier in the day. I listened, occasionally offering a bit of advice here and there.

I didn't realize how long we talked until there was another knock at the door. Oh crap, again. Tom was here.

I made a quick apology and fibbed about having to leave for drinks with my clients, and dumped her off the phone.

I ran to the door, stopped for a moment to look in the mirror, and at that point I basically gave up. My hair was frazzled, my blouse and skirt wrinkled, and I confirmed, yes, I was a ragamuffin. Oh, well. It was just a guy, kind of an old acquaintance, who I didn't even really know that well, and only seemed to see while out of town. Not much potential here, anyway.

I opened the door.

He stood there with a huge pizza box and a very straight face. It was possibly the largest pizza box I had ever seen.

"It sounded pretty bad, so I got a super extra large."

We both laughed, the tension of my looks and condition fading a bit.

"Come on in."

"Where should I put this?" said Tom.

"Right on the bed. I don't want to have to get up."

"Oh, Pinot Noir? Things can't be so bad. Now if there was a tequila bottle out, I'd be worried. Red wine and I know things aren't life threatening," he said, flashing his bright white-toothed smile, which I bet worked equally well with single women in bars as it did with juries in court.

I poured two glasses as he put down the pizza. Handing him one, then clinking glasses.

"To salvaging what was a lousy day," I toasted.

"To lousy days, for they pave the way to better evenings." And we drank.

I went to my spot on the bed, this time lowering a bit more gently so as to not bounce the pizza. Tom sat on the opposite side.

"So, if you want, tell me about what went wrong today, or if you want to skip it, tell me what movie you're going to watch."

"I didn't even check, I've been on the phone from the office since you called," I said. I reached over and grabbed the remote, flicking on the TV, and quickly scrolling through the pay-per-view listings. It was the usual fare of recent movies, some hits, some misses. A few 'classics' came up, and one caught my eye.

"Oh, look, Casablanca!" I said, a millisecond before I took another swig of my wine.

"Possibly the best movie of all time," said Tom with confidence.

"Would you like to stay and watch it?"

"Tell you what, I'll stay for some pizza and wine, and to make sure you don't jump out the window, and I commit to staying through 'As Time Go By', okay?"

"Spoken like a true lawyer. And don't try to get out of the foot massage, either, slick man."

He laughed, "Oh yeah, that. I am a man of my word. Shall we do that now so you know I'm an honest guy?"

"Sure."

I put the pizza slice I was holding on the nightstand on my side of the bed. Tom put his glass down on the other nightstand on the other side.

I got up and walked around, sliding the giant pizza box so I could move it to the table and make room on the bed. I lifted it up, but completely unprepared for the weight of the mighty pie, or the face that it had soaked in and softened the box, which promptly folded in half, dumping the contents into Tom's lap.

We both froze, stunned by my incredible act of stupidity. He stood slowly, looking down. I expected him to yell at me, but he just busted out laughing. I wasn't sure if I should laugh, too, but my reflexes gave way, and I keeled over laughing so hard.

After a minute of belly laughing, he picked up his wine, and said, "To a better evening than the day!"

I didn't have my mine, so as I echoed his toast I reached for my glass, which I had just topped off just before my pizza stunt.

"A better evening than the-"

I whirled around to clink glasses again, but misjudged my speed, and proceeded to spill a good portion of my glass on Tom's already pizza-red (formerly white) shirt.

I just about died, feeling like I had gotten away with it the first time, but I didn't deserve leniency the second time.

I looked up to see his next reaction. And cool as a cucumber, he said,

"Boy, I'm glad I didn't bring any dessert."

"I am so sorry. I had no idea pizza and red wine could be so hazardous."

"Karen, it's okay, really. I can just head back to my hotel," said Tom from the bathroom. He was trying, though failing, to mop up some of the wine and pizza sauce using a few of the napkins that came with the food.

"No, that makes a lousy night for both of us. And we just started the movie. Do you want to clean up in the bathroom? Why don't you take a quick shower, and put on a robe?"

"Oh, I-"

"I insist. I feel terrible. Take a shower, put on a robe. I'll have the valet pick up your suit and send it out so it doesn't stain, and I'll have the concierge find you something to wear."

"Its really not necessary."

"Tom, please?"

"Okay, You're sure that's okay?"

"Sure. We're both adults. You take a shower, I'll clean up out here and then we'll still get to watch the movie."

He headed for the bathroom.

Just for fun, I offered, "Shall I order another pizza?"

He didn't say anything, but Tom poked his head back out of the bathroom door with a stern look.

"Just offering."

Breaking to a smile, he said, "Now that's funny!"

I pulled the bedspread off the bed, tossing it to the corner of the room. Hoping there was an extra blanket somewhere, I headed over to the closet, and I heard the shower water start to flow. There was a blanket on the upper shelf, which I couldn't quite reach.

Just then I heard Tom's voice from behind me. "Here, let me get that."

He stepped forward and reached passed me. As I stepped back, I realized he was wearing only a towel around his waist. Whatever hesitation I might have had evaporated instantly. This guy's body was amazing. Not too tall, not too short. His chest was strong, but not too muscle bound. His stomach tight, his legs lean, and from what I could tell under the towel, a great ass.

He handed me the blanket, which embarrassingly took me a moment to grab. Covering for my staring, I blurted out, "I guess it really is dinner and a show."

He snickered, turned and headed back to the bathroom.

I took a deep breath, feeling the need to catch up on my oxygen. I heard the shower door open, then close. The sound was quite clear, which surprised me.

Yeah, we may both be adults, but I felt like a teen-age girl all of a sudden. Right there, a great looking man who had on only a towel, just 12 feet away. I kept thinking, under that towel, buck ass naked.

Hmmm.

I took a small step toward the bathroom; the sound of the water now seemed amplified. I wasn't that much closer, but my hearing was tuned right into the situation. I began tiptoeing like a cat burglar, which struck me as kind of silly. It was my hotel room, why do I need to slink around? Just the same, as I rounded the corner of the room I could see that the door was partly open.

Really? Open door. He left the door open? Did he want me to sneak a peek?

I inched forward, ever so close. Nearing the close edge of the doorway, I leaned in, turning my head slowly around the opening.

This was, quite possibly, the single-most sexy thing I had ever done, or seen. When I was young I was too scared, I'd never have copped a look. When I was older, I was married, and played the part well. But now? Come on, the shower glass was transparent, but textured, so it produced a dreamlike appearance.

Tom was busy dunking his head under the water, so I felt safe for the moment, a hidden voyeur in me coming out of hibernation. I couldn't make out his features precisely, but my imagination did a great job of filling in the gaps.

He began soaping himself up first his chest and back, then working downward. Really? This was like a great movie scene happening in real life. The shower door was just blurry enough that I couldn't really make out the details below his waist, but I could feel my own excitement rise, and a rush of adrenaline which seemed to warm me up from the inside.

And then it happened.

"Karen?" It wasn't a shout. Not even loud. In fact, it was darned near a whisper. I was busted.

Now the adrenaline really kicked it. I wanted to run, but where? I had about 10 feet of room to hide in, but that didn't matter, as my feet felt like they were in buckets of cement.

"Karen?"

Do I answer?

"Come on in, the water is nice."

Wait...what? Did he say what I thought he said, because I was pretty sure he definitely said it!

"Like you said, we're both adults, and you need to wash up, too," he offered.

There I stood, frozen like a statue. I desperately wanted to join him, but for some reason not a muscle of my body seemed willing to move.

Tom added to my affliction by opening the shower door. There he was, standing tall, wet and soapy, looking right at me.

Involuntarily I looked slightly down, taking in his body, and I admit, my eyes moved rapidly down his chest and below his waist. Tom had very little body hair, and while there was soap running down his frame, I could see him just like my own statue of David. Nothing to hide, not that he'd want to.

He reached out his hand, motioning, and quietly said, "Come on."

I stepped forward, hesitantly. Inch by inch I entered the bathroom. Tom, still standing, still naked, still wet, awaiting my arrival in the shower.

I slowly unbuttoned my silk blouse, removing one arm and then the other, and finally letting it drop. Next, I unzipped my skirt, and slid it off my waist and down past my hips. Just as I got it down to my thighs I had a moment of horror, wondering what underwear I had on. I prayed they were not my 'travel panties', comfortable but not sexy in the slightest. They weren't, thank goodness. I had put on something at least slightly sexy. Not a thong, but certainly not granny panties.

There I was, in bra and panties. As I began to stand up straight, I looked to Tom. He was waiting as patiently as one could. My slowness was not meant as a tease, though maybe it had that effect. It was fear.

I reached for the clasp on my bra, this one a front clip. I undid it, though held it closed for an extra moment. That one I did on purpose. A busty girl since I was a teen, I thought it would be fun to just let "the girls" fall out for Tom's enjoyment. I pulled it away while watching Tom, and he smiled, as if a young boy seeing a girl's tits for the first time. It was the first time he saw mine, but he definitely had the poise of a man who was experienced in this area.

I giggled as I wriggled out of my panties and made a hasty last few steps for the shower. Tom moved further into the stall, allowing me space to join him.

The water was warm and forceful, giving us each a nice aqua massage. I wasn't sure what I should do, so I simply dunked my head under the nozzle. Coming up, I shook the water from my eyes, then wiped my face, letting my hands continue over my head to squeegee my hair. I also know this to be great way to show off your tits. I've never known a straight guy able to not watch that move.

I hadn't finished wringing my hair when I felt Tom's hands along my sides, slowly reaching around to my back. As if it hadn't been already, it was another instant turn-on for me, and I raised my arms up and around his neck. I pulled him in closer, and turned my head slightly as a pressed my open mouth on his.

Had we been in the Sahara Desert instead of a shower, it still would have been a wet kiss. My chest pressed firmly against his, squishing me against him, in a good way, the pressure of which not only felt good physically, but also made me feel protected emotionally, if that makes sense. His right leg wrapped slightly around my left leg, which allowed our pelvises to press against each other.

I embraced him even tighter as tongues ravaged each other's mouths like longtime lovers, the water that had been spraying between us was now directly upon our heads.

As we both finally came up for air, I groan quietly, "Ooohhh, that's nice. I haven't been kissed like that for a long time."

"Yes, that was very nice," said Tom.

I couldn't resist, and pulled my hips back, allowing me to look down between us. His cock was showing signs of approval, and I smiled. "Your actions speak as loud as your words."

Releasing one hand from his neck, I reached down and made a small chalice with my hand, letting it fill with the water that was once again spraying between us. As my hand filled, I poured over his cock, once, twice, and a third time, before I finally reached down to massage him.

I watched his eyes as I slowly touched, then stroked his stomach and hips. My fingers dragged slowly down to the top of this thighs. I let me fingers fall into the crease between his thighs and balls, touching the latter ever so slightly.

The soap had pretty much rinsed off his olive skinned body, so loosed my grip below and reached for the soap, with which I lathered up my hands. I then placed them on his chest, and proceeded to insure that his entire torso was very, very clean, all the while his hands remained around me. I turned his back slightly to protect the soap from the spray, and let it run down his chest, across his stomach, and onto his growing erection.

As I reached his waist, I let my hands drop below. I slowly rubbed up and down his thighs, then let my hands wrap slowly around his hips. I circled his muscular butt with my hands, and while I was sure he would like it, I knew I loved it. This was a dream ass, the kind women swoon over. And I was definitely going to get my money's worth out of it.

It was then I noticed he withdrew his hands from around me, and he opened his eyes. With a smile emerging, he said, "Hang on for a second," and with that, opened the shower door. He stepped one foot out to the shower toward the sink. A moment later was back in the shower and closing the door once again.

He proceeded to open the small bottles that were on the sink, and put a small amount of lotion in his left hand. He the squeezed the other bottle with bubble bath into his right hand. Opening the shower door just a few inches, he tossed out the two bottles, and brought his hands together in a slow "clapping" motion. I was mesmerized.

With the two liquids distributed across his eight fingers and two thumbs. He raised his hands to my shoulders, and began to massage them with this intriguing liquid. I reached out ever so slightly so that my hands rested on his upper thighs, while he rubbed his concoction all over my chest.

The lotion mix created an incredible feeling, in one respect heavy, like oil, yet the soapy bubbles seemed to let his hands float lightly over me at the same time. My husband and I had divorced two years ago, so feeling a man rubbing my breasts in a shower was, well, almost like the first time all over again.

Tom had a really flat stomach, and that wonderful patch of muscle that looks almost like a "v' below his navel, as if pointing the way. My thumbs rested towards the front, with my fingers holding on to his hips. Each time his hands rubbed across my nipples, I squeezed my hands, as if to signal him I wanted more.

I allowed myself to sway slightly, forward and back, pulsing with his hand motion. As I swayed slightly forward, I pulled my hips toward his, and I could feel his cock rub up against my stomach.

Tom slowed his hands, then said, "Turn around." I smiled, and obliged. He then wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and let his hands find my breasts once again, only this time he let his hands massage my stomach and sides as well.

He nuzzled his chin and cheek against mine, and I could feel the stubble on his face. He began to kiss my neck and shoulders, all the while soaking under the warm shower spray.

I let me hand swing back, and it just happened to be at the exact height of his cock, which was still in a state of partial erection. I let my hand massage him as he caressed me. I again reached for the soap, and refreshed the lather, both on my chest and in my hand on his cock.

I would have been happy to just massage each other for an hour, but my sexual desire was growing by the second. I released my grip on him, then gently grasped his hands and slowed them to a stop. I turned back around, reached up and gave him a very wet kiss full of tongue and passion, which his responded to with equal gusto.

As I pulled my mouth away from his, I lowered myself down slowly so that my knees rested on the shower floor. Then, staring right into his groin, I lifted his penis and gave it a long, firm stroke, first one, then another, then another.

I heard him let out a quiet groan. Oh, this was fun, knowing he was enjoying it while I could feel my heart rate climb as well.

While still holding the base of his cock, I went in to explore his balls. I've never understood the physiology of testicles, when they are more full or dangly, or shriveled up. His were quite round and full, and I wondered if that was from a lack of sex. I couldn't imagine a guy this good looking not having women pretty much when he wanted them.

I allowed my tongue to stroke across the shaft of his cock, then took his balls in my mouth, feeling the fullness of his growing erection next to my mouth. I stopped, now and again, and gave a slight tug by sucking his balls.

"Oh, do that again," he begged.

And again, I obliged. He may have been giving the commands, but I felt like I was sure driving the bus. My mouth was working his balls, but my hand was still stroking his cock, slowly up and down, stretching his skin forward and back.

After working him for a while in this way, I pulled back slightly, in part to rest my mouth, and in part to take in the view. As I did, I allowed my other hand to grasp his balls. I grabbed the skin firmly, and pulled slightly downward.

"Oh, wow," he moaned.

"Do you like that?" I asked, as if I didn't know the answer.

Looking up, I saw he simply nodded yes.

And with that I tugged, slightly increasing my firmness with each stroke, gently tugging, then gently squeezing. This was something my husband, when we were sleeping together, absolutely loved, so I figured 'what the heck.' Tom loved it, too.

His cock was pretty much erect, and I didn't want him to cum yet, so I slowed down, and eventually let my one hand release his balls. I continued to stroke his shaft, and timing it perfectly as my hand reached the base, I let my mouth slide over the head.

As I took him in my mouth, again I heard the audible moan. Slowly I moved in, and them back out. Knowing he liked the firm grip on his balls, I let myself be strong with him, sucking firmly as I continued moving in and out, my mouth and hand in sync on his now fully erect cock.

After making sure he was nice and aroused, and happily hard, I pulled back and looked up.

"Okay, lawyer man, I need a decision. Continue like this, or would you like to...come inside?"

He thought for a moment, then simply said, "Come inside."

I stood up, never letting go of my grip of him. I turned slowly around, so my ass was facing him, and I used it to push him back against the glass. Once there, I bent over forward, bending at my waist. As I did, I guided his toward me, letting him enter me from the rear. Clearly I was ready, and had been for awhile.

As he came close, I could feel the head of his cock on my pressing against me, looking for the way in. I reached back, grabbing his shaft one more time, doing a little fine tuning of his aim, and then pulling him in.