The Choices We Makebyrachel_hirt©
The door to the hotel room was barely closed before Carol was pinned against the wall, his mouth forcing itself upon hers. She reached up with both hands to hold his head. Her fingers vanished inside his luscious hair and Carol played with it fretfully. His body made it hard for her to catch her breath.
"The bed," she muttered between kisses, unable to put a more complete sentence together.
"Not yet," he answered.
He reached for the front of her blouse and found the first button that wasn't already open. With one hand and a simple twist, it too was undone. His fingers found the inside of one of Carol's tits and the edge of her bra. Quickly, his palm was over the tit and he was compressing it with a strong, rough massage.
Still, they kissed lustfully.
Two more buttons were nearly ripped off and Carol felt his cock getting harder and harder as it pressed against her pussy. He backed off only enough to use both hands to yank the blouse out of her pants. In the same motion, he snatched it down her arms and flung it aside.
Carol found herself getting more and more turned on by her unsuccessful efforts to move, until she was actually play-acting in her mind that she was trying to escape him. When he fumbled with the back of her bra, she groaned. When he began pulling it off, she pushed against him, causing him to push back even harder against her. Carol's heart pounded with anticipation.
Topless now, she watched his head sink down to her tits. He swiftly had his mouth around one of them, sucking and biting with shocking intensity. Carol put a hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer, nearly screaming with pleasure at the sensation of his lips, tongue, and teeth working on her nipples.
Carol tried to remember his name. She thought it was Chris, but the bar had been a cacophony of blaring music, voices, and alcohol and she might have mis-heard him. Either way, she assumed she'd be able to complete the act they were about to perform without having to worry about it again.
When her mind returned to the present, she found her hand securely clamped onto his bulging crotch. Carol pressed harder on his dick and Chris sucked harder on her tit. Then she was removing his shirt in a frantic search for any skin she could find. With the shirt removed, they came together in another prolonged kiss, their bare chests squashed against each other.
Chris' hand was the first to squirm into the tiny space and find Carol's pussy. Even with her pants still on, he could feel the warmth it was generating. He pressed hard enough to feel the opening to her vagina and the clit above that.
"Oh, yes," Carol sighed.
Chris needed no further consent to unbutton her pants and pull down the zipper. Then his long fingers were on top of her panties, searching out her pussy and clit once more. Only, this time he felt the moisture along with the warmth. Carol's body stiffened at his touch. Chris forced her against the wall as hard as he could.
She groped for his belt as Chris moved his hand inside her panties and directly onto her pussy. A single finger found her hole as Carol pushed down Chris' pants, followed by a rapid searching inside his boxers for the rigid cock she'd felt before. Carol whimpered when his entire finger entered her. She responded by stroking his dick faster.
"Fuck me. Now!" Carol told him.
Chris started to pull her away from the wall, towards the bed.
"No! Right here! Fuck me against this wall."
Chris grinned. "Take off my boxers," he told her.
In a matter of seconds, he was naked. Carol remained bent down after the boxers were removed and put her lips on his dick. After a few kisses, she licked it from the base to the tip. Then she took the cock in her mouth and sucked on it until she thought it would explode.
When he felt himself getting close, Chris said, "Take off the rest of your clothes."
Carol eagerly stripped off her panties and kicked aside her pants. She looked into his bright blue eyes with a look of readiness. She knew this was dangerous, maybe unsafe and careless. But for Carol, this was an addiction. Some people did drugs or alcohol. Carol did sex. When she saw him in the bar she knew they'd end up like this. If it hadn't been Chris, or whatever his name was, it would have been the next good looking guy.
She felt his hands on her ass. Her legs parted and his dick touched her pussy. Carol put her hands on Chris' shoulders. The cock began to enter her. Chris lifted her up and Carol hung on while the cock slid farther inside her. Finally, her legs were wrapped around his waist and he was fucking her.
The wall was cool against her back and ass, but the warmth of Chris' body evened it out. His grunts rose in volume with each thrust and muffled thumps echoed in the room as Carol's body smacked the wall. No words were spoken as they allowed themselves to inch closer and closer to orgasms. Moans morphed into incoherent pleadings for more.
Carol was in her element. All the preliminary stuff that got her to this point she considered work. Laying the groundwork, as it were. Now she was in her comfort zone, with a dick inside her cunt and her legs wrapped around a man she met an hour or so before. There was no need for lovemaking or romanticism. They were just fucking. Oh, how Carol loved to fuck.
She enjoyed feeling out of control, balancing in mid-air, the wall preventing her from falling or moving in any way—except up and down on this man's cock. Chris did everything Carol required. He filled her with his dick, stimulated her tits, and brought her to the edge of what would surely be multiple orgasms...as usual.
Carol cried out. Chris drove his dick into her harder and faster. He mumbled, "Oh God, Cheryl. I'm cumming!"
Carol tried to contain the ironic laughter that nearly escaped. The only thing that saved her was the explosive beginning of her orgasm and the sensation of load after load of warm cum being poured into her. Together, they moaned their way through a series of climaxes that left them wet from perspiration, but completely satisfied.
Chris ended up sucking on Carol's overly sensitive nipples while she panted in his arms.
The room was pitch black. Only the sounds of the surrounding city invaded the isolation. Carol lie motionless under the covers. She was naked.
She speculated how, at age thirty two, she could still act like a nineteen year old on such a consistent basis. It really did bother her. Carol couldn't blame it on alcohol or an abusive father or uncaring mother or a lousy job. She was successful, comfortably rich, and very attractive.
Yet, at every opportunity, she sought out non-binding sexual liaisons with men she barely knew. In fact, if she hadn't gone to bed when Chris left, she very well could have found herself back in the same bar, repeating the scene with another thirty-something business man away from home and ready to play.
She chuckled out loud in the darkness at his reference to 'Cheryl.' Too funny, she thought to herself. He had no clue who she was...and didn't care. He knew nothing about her mind, her soul, her wants or needs. She was nothing more than a beautiful woman who accepted his advances and wanted to fuck.
"Why?" she uttered. "God damn it. Why do I do this?"
She thought for a second. "What is fucking wrong with me?"
Amidst her contemplation, memories of being held against the wall, Chris' dick deep inside her, flooded her mind. Was there a better feeling in the world than an orgasm growing in your body? Or a thick cock? Carol put a hand between her legs and rested it on her clit. Then a finger began to slide up and down and her legs spread a little wider.
Carol awoke the next morning prepared to tackle the second day of the annual conference she had so looked forward to. She actually enjoyed the break-out sessions and always gained valuable ideas for her job. Of course, meeting new people was an added bonus. But as she stood in front of the closet following her shower, Carol did something she'd never done before. She looked for an outfit that was the LEAST revealing and provocative.
Carol had decided this was the day she'd end her inexhaustible flirting and act like the adult she was. She would disregard all unwanted advances and, more importantly, stay out of the damn bar. She would spend the evening alone and allow her trusty fingers to bring on any needed orgasms.
She chose a turtle neck sweater and the longest skirt she could find. Yes, it was still above the knees, but didn't scream 'fuck me' like so many of her skirts. Thus, she was ready to attempt a new approach and present a new Carol to the world.
It was Day Two of the week-long conference and Carol had registered for a three hour panel discussion in the morning. When she arrived, the room was nearly full. Luckily, there was still a seat available near the back, Carol's preferred location. It gave her more options for daydreaming or exiting for a quick coffee break.
Old habits were hard to break. Carol found herself scanning the room for 'interesting' looking guys. Several candidates emerged, but she told herself today would be 'look, but don't touch.'
Then the last seat at the opposite end of her row was taken by a middle-aged man that more then met her definition of interesting. Even better, Carol recognized him as the presenter of a session she was signed up for in the afternoon. Joseph Blinn was a renowned expert on human behavior, not to mention world class marathoner for his age group.
Carol smiled. 'I bet he could teach me a few things,' she thought to herself, with two divergent topics in mind. She ignored her pussy and returned her attention to the panel discussion just beginning.
One hour into the session, Carol knew it was going to be a long morning. Nothing new was being said and each panelist was trying to outdo the others in promoting his or her new book. Carol finally got up the nerve to sneak out the back and into the main concourse of the conference center.
She was peering down at the collection of materials on a nearby display table when a voice behind her said, "Boring, wasn't it?"
Joseph Blinn's voice was as deep and evocative as she had imagined it.
"Yes," she replied truthfully while turning and looking up to see who she was talking to.
"Oh. Hi...uh, Mr. Blinn," she stammered.
"It's Joe. And you are...?"
"Hello, Carol. Enjoying the conference so far?" he asked.
"It will get much better this afternoon," she said. "I'm attending your session."
He chuckled. "I'm flattered. I hope you won't walk out on me."
Carol's embarrassment was obvious. "It IS rude, isn't it? I should have stayed."
"But why? If there are better ways to spend your time, then do it," Joe said.
"That's just it. What else am I going to do? My company paid big bucks for me to be here. I should learn something to take back," Carol said.
Joe smiled. "You have all week for that. Just relax."
He paused for a second, and then added, "Besides, maybe I have something you can do that you wouldn't consider a waste of time."
"Help me set up my presentation?" Joe said.
Carol's eyes beamed. "Sure. I'd love to."
"Follow me. The room's right over here," Joe told her.
He escorted her a short distance down the hallway and into a windowless, sectioned off conference room. Chairs and round tables were already in place. In the back, by the door, a longer table held a large box. Joe opened it to reveal stacks of handouts.
"Want to help pass them out?" he asked.
He reached inside and pulled out a bundle of handouts. "One at each chair. Just lay it on top of the table, OK?"
Carol smiled, nodded, and began her chore. They exchanged small talk as they made their way around the room and each one found occasion to admire the other more than once. By pure coincidence, they finished at the same time in the same far corner of the room.
"Thanks for helping," Joe said. "This type of busy work keeps me from getting too nervous before a presentation."
"I can't believe somebody with your level of knowledge could possibly get nervous," Carol told him. "Can't you do this in your sleep?"
Joe laughed. "You're too kind. Maybe I'm just insecure."
"What else makes you nervous?" Carol inquired.
He looked at her intently, no longer laughing. After a thoughtful silence, he said, "A beautiful woman."
Carol felt her entire body react in a way that sent red flags soaring. She replied, "Then you're safe for now."
Joe shook his head. "Nope. I'm in the presence of real beauty."
Carol's back was facing the darkened corner. Joe was inching closer. She had very little room for escape and her mind was screaming 'Escape!' Just a few hours into her new lifestyle and Carol already faced a moment of truth.
"That's very flattering, Joe. But I need to..."
"Stay. Just for a few minutes. I locked the door," he said.
Did he? Were they truly alone? Does he want to...have sex? Carol's mind raced with questions.
His hands were on her arms. She couldn't speak. They looked into each other's eyes and his face came down to hers. Joe pulled her slightly closer and Carol knew they would kiss. Her mouth opened even before their lips touched and then she was searching out his tongue while their bodies came together. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to her, but she had to stop it.
At the same instant that Carol began to move aside, Joe forced her back against the wall. She felt him, and tasted him, and smelled him. His hands were on her waist, and then lower, at the bottom of her sweater. The first sensation of his fingers on her bare skin sent shivers up and down her spine. Joe slid his hands higher.
Carol contested his actions with muffled, muted pleas. Still, Joe's hands rose inside her sweater and approached her breasts. For the first time, she felt the hardness between his legs. She fought the instinct to touch it; to rub it; and to squeeze the erection.
Joe's fingers slid atop her bra and sought out the smooth, rounded skin above the thin fabric.
"No, Joe. Please," she murmured.
"Yes, Carol. Let me make you a little less bored."
He was pinching her nipples, threatening to slide the bra completely off her breasts in the process. Carol's pussy ached and she felt the moisture collecting inside her panties. Her right hand was on his crotch. How and when did it get there, she asked herself.
Then Joe was lifting her sweater above her breasts and his lips were on her cleavage. His tongue followed the edge of her bra, which he was slowly lifting off her tits. Seconds later, a nipple was between his lips and Joe was licking, sucking, and biting it.
"God, stop!" Carol begged.
"Unzip my pants, Carol. Touch me."
Like a robot, her hand was on the zipper. Maybe it was the sound of it sliding down, or the harder bite he took of her nipple, but Carol finally reacted.
She jerked away from him violently and spun away from the wall, tugging at her bra and sweater at the same time. When she was dressed again, she looked at him and said uncertainly, "I have to go."
Carol wasn't sure why she was sitting in the back of the room five minutes before Joe's session was scheduled to begin. She knew she would feel guilty if she missed another presentation. But this was crazy.
Carol and Joe made eye contact with no discernible acknowledgement by either one. He wore the same pants. She wore the same sweater. The corner of the room where the 'incident' occurred was still dark and empty.
As if in a daze, Carol sat through the two-hour lecture and slide show. Twice, Joe walked among the participants, fielding questions and helping with exercises at the various tables. He walked close behind Carol at one point, causing her breathing to nearly stop.
She was never as glad for two hours to pass by as in that instance. Without any further hesitation, she exited the room and headed for the nearest bar. Then, the pledge she made to herself reverberated in her brain and she sought out a Starbucks.
Dinner was followed by a quick tour of the city's waterfront and a return to her hotel room. She was filled with satisfaction that her first day as a more mature woman—despite the bumps in the road—had ended successfully. Carol didn't normally take a shower before bed, but in this case she did, allowing her mind to wind down from the day's events.
When she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a hotel robe, she saw the message light on her phone blinking. Fearful of a family emergency, she looked for directions on accessing the voicemail and then listened.
"Hello, Carol. This is Joe. It was great to see you in the presentation today. I hope you enjoyed it. Listen, if you get this in time and it's not too late, please call me. I'm in room 6012."
A myriad of options came to mind: He wants to apologize. He wants to meet again. He wants to talk business.
Better judgment told her not to call him for ANY reason. She flopped on the bed and grabbed the TV remote. As soon as the TV flickered on and she recognized a show she had no intention of watching, she hit the power button again and the screen went blank. Carol picked up the phone.
"Hello." His voice was softer than in the class.
"Is this Joe Blinn?"
"I'm very glad you called," he said. "I was afraid you were angry."
Carol was glad she didn't have to say it to his face and let him easily see how it wasn't totally true.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Joe said, and Carol made a mental note that it wasn't an apology. "I never intended to annoy you."
"What did you intend?" Carol asked.
"I intended to tell you how pretty you are and how much I enjoyed being around you."
"You have a strange way of saying it."
She heard him chuckle quietly. "You're rather...irresistible," he answered.
"Would I be out of line to call you rather...boorish?" Carol said.
"Not at all," he replied. "But I couldn't help but notice that you came very close to raising the stakes yourself."
"It was a moment of weakness," she said.
"Do you have them often?"
"Really?" he asked with surprise. "Have you given up men?"
"So what will take our place?" Joe inquired.
A long pause followed while Carol eliminated all the more dangerous answers that came to mind. Finally, she said, "Perhaps a cheap piece of plastic."
Joe roared with laughter and Carol smiled silently. "Batteries included?"
Carol said, "It would be an improvement even without the batteries."
"My, you ARE bitter. I hope I haven't destroyed your sex life forever."
"I'll manage somehow," she said.
"Maybe I can help put things right again," he said.
"I'm not sure I need help."
"What are you wearing?" Joe asked abruptly.
Carol only wavered for a second, then said, "A robe."
"Anything under it?"
The only thing keeping her from hanging up was the thumping of her heart.
"Good. Now untie it," Joe told her.
He waited ten seconds in silence before hearing her say very softly, "OK."
"Put your hand on your stomach." He paused. "Move your fingers over your soft skin, like I did. Slowly."
More silence. But not a dial tone.
"Widen the circle. Move your hand higher, Carol. Spread the robe apart if you need to."
She asked, "Why me, Joe? Why did you pick me out of the entire conference?"
"Because you're the one who can make me hard just lying here, talking to you."
"Are you naked?" Carol asked.
"Yes. Now keep sliding your hand across your skin. Higher. All the way to your breasts, Carol."
"Are you holding yourself?" she wanted to know.
"Yes. Very slowly stroking it, getting it harder and harder, Carol. Touch your nipples for me, please."
She did and her legs parted impulsively with just the thought of Joe naked on his bed and masturbating.