The Lady in the Green Dress Pt. 01

As I walked into the hotel bar I almost turned back. When I stay away for work I usually prefer my own company and room service. This evening I had thought of being sociable, to take my book, have a bar meal, a pint and if there was anyone interesting maybe a chat.

But as I entered the bar area I was met by the loud hubbub of sales conference delegates, two drinks in, sharing their favourite funny stories or moaning about their wives or bosses or both at full volume. Not my scene. However, I realised that they were congregated for their company dinner and wouldn't be there forever, so when a small table in a corner caught my eye I dived for it and thank god I did.

I was able to sit back and survey the scene, a hotel like so many others, dark brown wood, gleaming brass handrails, a thinning carpet with bold geometric patterns. Four harassed bar staff were attempting to stem the flow of ego lead orders from middle aged men waving £20 notes. And amongst the throng of the company's finest, dotted around, individuals like me seated quietly, hiding behind the obligatory ferns in pots.

It was amidst this bright light and noise that I first noticed her. I was reaching for the single sheet of cardboard containing the menu, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of green dress and turned. There she was, tall, slender with rich auburn hair, her eyes darting around the room looking for someone. Her dress was simple, the bodice fitted closely with a round neck, the skirt finishing just above the knee, a short slit up the centre line. She looked amazing. She looked annoyed. Whether it was because her date hadn't arrived or the scrum of leering blokes between her and the bar I didn't know. She looked briefly at her delicate gold watch, turned and left. At that point I realised that I hadn't been breathing and swore to myself at my foolishness, old enough to know better.

To my great relief, a voice was raised and the buffoons bundled off through some large doors into a dinning room, the doors closed and everyone remaining gave a collective sigh of relief. Three of the bar staff, happily ran off to other duties and I realised that music was playing and a football match was on a telly on the other side of the room. Better, time to choose a meal, grab a drink and relaxed back with my book.

But then she returned. Barely had I glanced back at the menu than in she strode, shod in satin black 5 inch heels, legs encased in black sheer stockings (possible tights but I hoped stockings) with a seam up the back of her toned calves. Her legs were perfect, slim, firm with strong thighs, shown off to perfection by her purposeful stride. I wasn't the only eyes watching her walking and I felt the slight twinge of shame, can't woman walk into a bar without being oggled at these days. In my defence, I was smitten.

I couldn't see her face clearly as she was facing away as she went towards the bar but from the size of the smile on the barman's face I knew she must be gorgeous. She perched on a bar stool showing off her peachy arse and ordered something. The barman returned with her drink, took the money but found when he returned and leaned in to chat that she turned in her seat to watch the door. I almost laughed out loud at the picture of disconsolation on his face.

After a while, the eyes round the room, became used to the bird of paradise perched expectantly at the bar. Forks started clinking on plates again, noses went back to news papers and I went back to my menu. It was pointless however, the words I could recognise but the their meaning was lost in the fizzing and popping in my brain, I was the one who couldn't keep his eyes off her.

This went on for a good quarter of an hour and as my wits returned clearly her agitation grew. More watch glances, door watching and swift nervy gulps of her clear bubbling drink.

Her side profile faced me, her pale skin carefully powdered, the deep red of her lipstick, her cute nose and delicate ears with sparkling drop earrings. Her silky shoulder length hair was pulled tight into a ponytail, it's colour perfectly set off by the dark emerald dress.

Enough was enough, I needed to eat and then leave this poor woman to her (late) date before retiring to my room. I made sure I approached the bar behind her so as not to disturb her vigil. However, as I caught the barman's eye she swivelled round and plonked her empty glass down heavily on the bar. I think she was as surprised to find me stood next to her as I was by her movement. She looked at me and I looked at her. Beautiful chocolate brown eyes, I was lost. Her pretty red lips twitched into an equally pretty smile. I struggled to place her age somewhere between mid 30's and early 40's was my best guess, certainly no older; didn't really matter she was beautiful. We continued looking.

Now I am an average kind of chap in early middle age, reasonably trim and groomed. I am told my smile is my best feature so I have her a good dose of that, which was going well until the barman cleared his throat inconveniently. Magically we both laughed, I really should have tipped the barman for that.

With the ice broken, I couldn't not offer to buy her a drink, she paused looked at her watch one last time and said "fuck him" under her breath.

So there we were, two people, two GnT's exchanging pleasantries, names (let's call her Rachel and me Sam), occupations, favourite films, music and food, all those wonderful little human connections. Gradually our body language relaxed and we leaned into each bit by bit. Then she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, and there heart thumpingly clearly was the black lacy top of a stocking hugging her smooth thigh. I looked up into her dark eyes, and saw her wicked glint, matched by her smile. Then she said she was starving and perhaps we might eat together. And so, a quick order of tapas was made, a bottle of Rioja and a couple of glasses gathered up and we retired to my table in the dimly lit corner.

Here the flirting began in earnest, laughing and joking, fingers touching each other's forearms and knees, satin heels brushing my shins, eyes locked into each other. And every so often more creamy thigh and lacy top.

Eventually her hand landed on my thigh as she laughed at one of my attempts at a joke and it stayed. I liked the warmth of her palm through my trousers and the slight press of her nails on the inside of my thigh. I followed her example, laughed and let my right hand lay gently but firmly on her right thigh. I felt the mix of lace and smooth bare skin, I heard her little gasp and sigh. She lowered her chin and eyes gave a wicked twinkle. My smile became a Cheshire Cat of a grin. We became a duet of movement, glasses drained, belongings gathered and headed to the lifts in reception. We were oblivious to the looks we may or may not have got but I reckon it would have been a sea of envy.

As the lift doors closed I leaned against the mirrored panel at the back. She, standing in front leaned back into me, pressing her gorgeous arse into my bulge. My right hand grasped her hip and wandered upwards, her left snaked behind her to stroke my cock through my jeans. My hand encountered a stiffer material under the soft material of the dress, a basque or corset clearly outlined under my fingers; my dick throbbed. The lift pinged for my floor.

"816", I told her so she could lead the way, her slim legs and swaying hips the perfect temptation to follow. Unlike every other time is history when in a rush the room cardkey worked first time and we crashed through the door together all giggles and excitement. Immediately I pressed her against the wall, our mouths and tongues jousting without mercy. Our pent up attraction unleashed in a turmoil of kissing, moaning and lashing of tongues. Her pretty mouth was delicious and then I found her slender neck, planting kiss after kiss up and down it my left hand taking a hand full of that rich hair to pull her head to the side. Her insistent hands were working at my caged cock but my free hand cupped her beautiful face as I paused to take her in, eyes, mouth, breathing all fiery. Cupping her face in both hands I placed firm, long, delving kiss on her mouth, enjoying the sensation of mutual lust in that most simple and pleasurable of acts. Then I pulled away and grabbing both hands lead her further into the room.

Moving behind her I slowly unzipped her dress whilst nuzzling, nipping and licking her neck.

"Stand there and show me," I commanded as I sat in the grey bucket chair by the curtains.

She gave me the most wonderfully salacious grin and let the dress slide down her body to puddle at her feet. Even I, connoisseur of the female form in its various forms of undress caught my breath. She stood, hands on hips, feet just over hip width apart. Her small feet in her sexy heels, her delicate ankles wrapped in the sheer nylon as were her slender, toned legs. Her stockings were held up by black ribbons, contrasting with her smooth pale skin. Her matching knickers and basque of black and burgundy shot silk, lace patterns trimming the swell of her hips, sweeping up her slim frame and cupping her small inviting breasts. She pulled the clip out of her pony tail and did the classic hair toss so that the light auburn tresses kissed her bare shoulders, a feast for the senses. Without being asked she did a slow twirl, her self confidence in her looks, her sexuality and the effect she knew she would have made my whole body throb.

"Your turn, I think," she winked. So I stood, 5'11, as I said an average physique, and instead of my usual lack of body confidence I was feeling like a god chosen by the Goddess herself. Down to my trunks in a flash, she stepped forward, we kissed again this time with her hand passed my waist band and wrapped around my shaft. I stroked her neck, shoulders and arms as we picked a slow pace for our exploration, overcoming our impulse to just fuck hard and fast.

As we luxuriated in our kisses, caressing we moved to our own rhythm and I used this to move her to the bedroom desk. Wrapping my arms around her I lifted her to pop her gorgeous posterior on the dark wood, her legs curled around me drawing me in.

I pulled back, squatting, her legs now on my shoulders she leaned back, hands on desk top and biting her smudged lip. My hands caressed her soft outer thighs from stocking top to hip and back. I placed a light kiss on the smooth flesh of her inner right thigh, then another and another. Slow but purposeful kisses up closer and closer to her clearly damp knickers. I skipped over her mons and began the kisses again on her left thigh, down to the lace and back up. This time the upward journey included a kiss and a delicate lick, seeing her goose bumps rise with the extra touch. As I reached the delicious damp patch in the front of the silk panties I sank my mouth over it, using the broadness of my tongue to taste her wetness and press against her lips and then her clit. She grabbed my hair and ground into my face, arching her back and hissing with pleasure.

But I wasn't there to lick silk. So I began kissing thigh again but this time one by one I undid the stocking clips, both left and right and with care drew down her panties, uncovering her juicy cunt. My urge to bury my face then and there was almost too strong however I didn't want those stockings out of the picture, just the superfluous undergarment. Once it was off with the knickers I reclipped the stocking tops. I adore the sight of a lady with her pussy framed by ribbons like that.

Suitably rearranged I feasted my eyes on her, shaven, glistening, carmine lips. Her aroused aroma drawing me in. Our eyes connected and I lent in.