The Man in Suite Twelve

Control yourself, Katya. The lift doors had brushed open, and she had heard the single pinging chime. The dark green eyes of a businessman she had seen gazing her way, across the crowded rooftop bar of a choice Amsterdam hotel, and at the end of the conference day, were now so very close and seemed to bore into her. She cannot look away, some instinct to hold that gaze compelling her to do so.

The bewitching guy continues looking as he nonchalantly presses the button for the floor she needs and that is lit up as if he needs that floor too. Casually, he then leans on the rail as his eyes again make contact with hers and she begins to feel a little light-headed, warmth spreading through her body and especially in her panty-clad pussy. She shifts uneasily as the man draws closer.

'Don't look so worried,' he says with a soft knowing smile teasing his wonderful lips. 'Are you feeling warm?'

'Yes, as it happens,' she stammers, dismayed by his forwardness, and wants to look away just to break that gaze on her. She can't do that. A wonderful-looking man, two metres tall and immaculately dressed in a dark blue business suit, is in the lift with her, the light tan on his skin to be seen on his throat and lean face, his short black hair tidy, the cut suggesting it needs little attention. He sweeps one hand over it, anyway, as if he wants her to take in who he is. She needs no encouragement to do that, for he looks so fit, his build suggesting a broad chest, strong arms, and legs.

He's just coming onto her, and she feels she could drown in the look of those eyes on her. She shudders, having spent too long looking at him and wondering what is below his belt. Her eyes drift back up and she drowns once more in that look of his upon her. How is she to deal with what has been aroused in her, literally in the blink of an eye?

The ping of the bell announces the lift's arrival on floor seven and as it opens an elderly lady shuffles in, her walking frame with its wheels and feet obliging the stranger to make way and to slowly move to stand beside her. Katya glances at him for an instant and meets his smile and wondering look upon her. The woman sits on her walker and stares at the door as it closes and the lift descends.

'I find you so attractive. Meet me, suite 12...say at eleven o'clock? I have a conference call before...then I'm free if you are.'

His breaths have been in her ear and on her face and she shivered in aberrant longing for him, her feelings aroused by the novelty and dangers of this rendezvous that he was suggesting.

Ping! The elevator slows to a smooth stop. They are on floor five the light announces on the screen above the doors as they slide open.

'My floor, ladies!' the man announces, cheerfully, and walks past them both. There is but a moment's slow wink of one eye before he's gone without another glance their way. Katya feels dismayed at the sudden ending of their meeting; even more so by what she has heard him whisper moments ago. He's given voice to what she has felt, a wish to take things so much further. Yes, he wanted to take her to bed and she has done nothing to rebuff him.

'What a smart-looking man. He even winked at us!' the elderly woman chuckles, twisting in her seat to look her way. Katya smiles but does not respond.

She's consumed by what has happened. Those few words 'suite twelve, meet me...' have set her thoughts all in a whirl. She steps out of the lift on floor three and by then her mind is in utter turmoil. If she agrees, it will be the quickest and riskiest pickup she has ever experienced and conceded to. The man and his few words keep tumbling around in her thoughts.

With her mind on him, the door security card is shoved into its groove on the reader and she pulls it out, the green light showing and the door is pushed open. Her handbag is thrown onto the wide expanse of the pillows and she simply falls back on the bed and glances at the digital bedside clock. Its green letters show nine-thirty. She has only an hour and a half to think through what to do and make ready if she is to allow the man to 'pull' her and all that will surely follow. Her mind is in a whirl, rattles from going to him and then not. He'll think her easy meat if she goes; unadventurous if she does not.

Oh shit! What to do, what to do!

Her partner, Robert, will never know, will he? Just as she doesn't know, or ask, what he does when away from her in his work as a water supply engineering consultant.

The words, 'suite twelve' and 'I find you so attractive' swirl around in her head. The ones missing are, 'I want to fuck with you.' His self-confident, even arrogant, ways would make those words only too easy to say for she's seen it in his eyes, in the set of his straight-lipped mouth, in his manner, and in that teasing smile!

'He's got to show me who he is, not just say the right words!'

Determined on what to do she gets up from the bed and kicks off her shoes, rushes to the wardrobe, and picks out her 'go to' dress for a ritzy, not too dressy, occasion -- a swing dress in deepest night blue, strapless and the body adorned with diamante studs like stars in a night sky, and a frilly swirly hem. It's floaty and so in tune with her decision to live on the wild side. It, along with a skimpy thong and bra, both in flame red, is thrown on the bed.

She has time for a shower.

'I must be crazy...crazy!' she mutters as the water cascades over her, and thoughts rush in. She's careful as the ladies razor tidies the blond hair that marks the line of her slit. 'That wonderful mouth will graze over me there...'

Favorite body lotions are always with her whenever she travels, be it for work or pleasure, and now she dries off her body, takes a moment to look at her slender full-breasted figure that is not over-generous but is firm enough, and soon massages the soft cream into her skin, applies blusher and lightly coats her lips red.

Her tits are pushed together by her bra even if he won't see them until he undresses her, her mound is nicely covered by a thong, the touch of silk just what she wants. A look in the mirror reveals a horny woman out for an adventure she thought had been put in her past.

'Eleven o'clock...eleven o'clock!' The time is getting closer and she realizes that she now has to hurry, lost as she has been in thoughts and preparations for what will be a one night stand, but with a superbly handsome man who can't be that much older than she is. She steps into her dress, and adjusts the fit over her breasts...yes, they're going to please him...and she checks her reflection in the mirror as her sandy-blonde hair, its lazy twirling strands, is brushed out to frame her slender face. What has he seen to make him want her so badly that he's propositioned her in the lift, of all places?

'Five minutes to go! She garbs a small snatch bag and the room fob before she shoves her feet into low-heeled pumps that she's just remembered to find. She rushes to the door. 'I hope he's got rubbers...I haven't.'

Should she risk it? Yes...no...oh, the hotel may have considerately provided them! Back to the bathroom. Yes, there they are. Two into the bag. More than enough!

The door's pulled shut and she rushes for the lift, relieved at how quickly it pings to announce its arrival. It rises to the floor she needs and it pings again. He went to the left so she rushes along and stops outside his door. One minute she wanted to run away, the next she was rapping her knuckles on the door, her body and mind possessed by images of him, of them, naked in each other's arms and doing it.

Lust and adrenaline course through her body and veins. Her heart is beating like a drum in her chest as if it will burst free and she's trembling in her shoes at the delay.

'Come on, what's keeping you?' she grumbles. Has she been taken for a fool?

She's startled by the suddenness of the door opening and there he is, that wondering smile teasing his lips but he says nothing. His approving look, the slick of his tongue over his lips is enough to melt her resistance to the pace of what will follow. In silence, she steps past him, hears the door close, and feels the softest of touches to her bare shoulder as he pushes her into the lavishly furnished suite, the wide bed all that she really takes in of her surroundings.

Still silent, he trails her hair through his fingers and looks approvingly at her, his eyes drifting from head to toe. His mouth crashes onto her lips as she is pushed against the wall and she meets heart-stopping kisses and the spearing of his tongue into her mouth. They kiss as if they want to eat each other.

'I...I did wonder,' he smiles through their kisses.

'So did I, believe me!'

His hands grip her buttocks and she feels his penis press against her dress, move over her recently shaven mound, and she senses that her responses to his kisses are what he wants. He smells wonderful and fresh and she tears her mouth away from his kisses, moves to press her lips to his throat, and breathes in his heat. She is already high from earlier anticipation and now the certainty of them loving.

His eyes meet hers once more and his touches make her feel weak and unsteady on her feet. Certainly, he unzips her dress and she slumps her shoulders to help him ease it off her body, his breaths all the while on her skin.

'You see someone else now!' she cannot help but gasp. His look on her has changed, his eyes seem wilder and hungrier. They seem to take delight in what is to be seen of her. He still hasn't given her his name, nor has he asked it of her. It's crazy, utterly crazy, but none of that seems to matter now.

'Undress for me!' she breathes hotly, moving back and sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress scarcely reacts to her weight on it as she pulls him towards her and helps him to tug loose his belt before she does the rest. Her snatched breaths of anticipation become a groan as she makes him step out of his suit trousers and she sees how his penis strains the fabric of his briefs. They are no more than a pouch to hold what he will bring to her. 'You...you wonder! You've got it all!'

'Yes do that!' he commands, his voice deep and commanding, as she cups and squeezes on his balls, shaped and heavy in his briefs. E doesn't wait for her to do it but pushes them down with his hands and then kicks them away.

She cannot help but look up at him and meet his stilled gaze. 'Do you want me to mouth you...do oral sex? Do I suck on what you will bring to me?'

It sounds like she's reading off a menu of delights to come. He draws her down on him and she licks the domed tip of his penis in slow swirls of her flickering tongue. He's huge and she needs to think just how to control him.

His groans seem to suggest that she performs this act on him. Her lips encircle the monstrously large, domed tip, as one hand encircles ta base of his hard and trembling shaft. She grips tighter as she works him, her hold making him jerk and showing the effect that she's having on him. And he has yet to touch her.

'Jeez, woman!'

Her tongue swirls, and she then sucks on him, gently, before her tongue tip pokes at his pee hole and tastes pre-cum. Ever larger circling claims provoke him to put his hands in her hair as her wet mouth pays homage to what he will bring to her.

Her pussy tingles as she mouths him ever deeper, uses her lips and tongue, not her teeth, to lap over him as he slides deeper into her throat. She pauses; how much further and deeper does she want him to go? She pauses and counts out the seconds. She retraces a path over his shaft and lingers at the tip, tasting him. It suggests that he wants so much more of her mouthing him.

'Do you want me to go on?'

His reply is curt as she continues working him with her hands, his hard pole of flesh and his sac underneath it, his testicles rolled in her fingers like a pair of dice. How wanton to have the man with no name's penis the center of her attention, the desire to have it all in her mouth again.

She loved his taste but wanted to do things differently and she shifts. She lies across the bed and lolls her head over the edge, has to gasp at his rough ways as he grips her breasts, then pushes them out of her bra cups. His fingers grip both nipples, tweaking and tugging on them, the sensations from him doing this felt in her belly and between her legs. She feels the cramps in her pussy and she gasps, opens her mouth to do so and he takes it as a sign of acceptance of what is to follow.

His penis passes over her parted lips and she reaches up, struggles for breath as she grips his testicles, massages them as best as he will allow and in time with his slow movements. She does not forget the wrinkled fold of skin behind them. Nothing of his manhood is now ignored and she tastes all of him.

'Oh fuck!' he groans, and she tries not to gag. How wanton and horny this time with him has become, and still she doesn't know his name.

'Yes, oh fuck!' she manages to gasp as he seems to want to fuck her mouth deeper and deeper. How she is lying on the bed, and his movements, make that wish only too possible. She's used to the ways in her country now, how her mother tongue is mangled and mixed with English. Everyone understands the four-letter word only too well, and it accompanies his grunting and her gurgled breaths of effort to please the handsome man who wants her in every way that the night will allow. The room seems to be filled with the noise of them taking to each other.

He stops moving. 'You are a horny woman! I thought I'd have work to do...'

She didn't quite know how to take that comment. 'And if we keep on like this I'm going to cum...lose it before I'm really wanting to.'

He shifts and leans over her and she pushes her neglected tits together, massages that pole of flesh with them as his hands finally grip her nipples then slide down her taut belly and his fingers slip over her pussy's lips.

He now fucks her breasts and she works that pole of wonderfully thick and long flesh with them. Whenever he moves away she licks along its length until her mouth tastes once more the pre-cum on its hooded tip.

Her lover moves to bend over her face and kisses her forehead, then looks searchingly into her eyes before reaching down to finger her pussy.

'How is that pussy of yours now? Is it ready for me?' She sees his grin. 'I think I have the answer in my hand.' She has moved her legs wider, and he cups her mound, his middle finger now pushing into her, past her pussy's lips and deep inside her slicked sex. She lifts her hips to meet them, and soon bucks her body. He's wanting to fuck her by every means that he can.

'What?' she yelps as he tugs away her thong, the fastenings ripped as if they were made of paper.

'I think I have the answer, I can feel it. You're so wonderfully wet and ready for me.'

'Yes...yes!' she gasps, wondering what kind of mess she will make on the bed cover. She feels on fire from his touches, feels little snaps of pleasure in her belly.

'Do you want me now?' he murmurs.

'Yes...yes...yes! Bring it to me!' she replies in evident frustration with his teasing ways. She squirms away.

He crawls after her like a prowling animal.

Then...and then his fingers part her pussy's lips. 'Be still, lovely woman, and enjoy. I'm going to make your pussy burn and grip my prick until you'll remember no one and nothing else, but me. You're going to be loved and will tremble with delight and I'll let you yell...won't let you be quiet until we're through.'

'Promise?' she managed to smile, yet fearing what these moments of prolonged foreplay may now lead to.

'I promise...'

His tongue glides over her belly, down her thighs, then over her calves as he kisses his way down to her feet. His mouth retraces the path over her skin until he presses it to her breasts. She fails to respond, the words catch in her throat. She feels on fire and every instinct tells her to take him to her, into her. She is open for his delight, it quivers in response to his lazy kisses, the press of his lips to her enervated skin, to her breasts, her belly, her pussy, even from his flickering tongue pricks into her navel. What he will bring in her will excite them all, but from within.

'Don't kiss me there...go lower!'

He smiles in that teasing way of his and she meets the stare of his wonderful eyes. 'Be patient, lovely lady...be patient.'

'I have been and my name's Katya!'

'Whatever...' She lifts her hips off the bed to meet the resumption of his fingering and the flickers of his tongue. 'You've shaved for me...I like that strip of hair that you've left. It needs some more attention.' A finger traces a slow path over her slit, then another and they tug on the short tufts of hair to be found there. 'The rough and the smooth...'

His wide open mouth now settles on her and she bucks her hips and grips his head with her thighs as he begins to lick her out; to slide his mouth over her mound, his tongue stilled within her, and he closes his lips and pulls on her warm flesh.

'Oh...oh fuck!' She yelps, alien sensations that he has brought to her in his ways, overwhelming her control. 'Bring it to me! I'm ready for you...for all of it!'

'Don't you think I know that?'

He must feel her trembling and cannot ignore the grip of her thighs on his head or her hands on his head, the caresses to his shoulders.

'And how I want to feel you shake with pleasure. I want to hear you screaming for me to stop. Is that okay, lovely lady...the one I have looked at these last two days. Now I have you and...and it will be a conference that you won't forget.'

'Go on then!' she gasps, but his fingers and tongue resume in their torturing of her body, or is it raging pleasure? She can not distinguish between the two, He's found her clitoris, it must be swollen as never before after his pleasuring of her for so long. Her body relaxes even as his two fingers are curled, and he draws and pushes them in and out. She pants. She gets wetter and wetter, and she feels it leak onto her thighs.

'Yes...yes,' she pants but he remains silent as his fingering of her gathers pace. She lifts her hips to meet these claims, wanting his fingers to go deeper if he won't put that prick inside her. What am I doing, behaving like this and with a stranger?

It feels as if he wants to swallow her and she cannot control what is rushing up to meet her. She grips the bed cover as her body's muscles feel to be united, and above all in her pussy...her cunt as the English word would have it. So expressive of where she wanted him to be.

'I'm gone!' she screeches and knows that she has never come so hard. She's let herself go and feels no shame or the hindrance of her conscience. She loved it and is loving it, and has submitted to all that he does in bringing her wanton pleasure. 'Put on a condom, now...and fuck me!'

'Now, I will...' Her touches do not restrain him as she shifts away. Soon, he kneels between her legs and taps his penis tip to her slit, slides it over her parted lips, and leans forward, bearing his weight on one extended arm. And then...

She squirms. She digs her fingers into his skin before they slide over his body as his penis passe her pussy's lips, teased beyond pleasure, and he fills her.

'Yes, now I'm going to fuck you, as you have asked me for.'

She has nothing to say. She has everything to feel as his penis glides in and out of her body, her love tunnel in slow and rhythmic thrusts. She can at last clench and tug on him, truly share in a fevered and tempestuous rut. It seems that she can smell their lust, her juices coating him and his penis filling her and she fails to fully clamp on him, his tamping quickening and the rock and thrust of his hips too much to control.

'You're going to break me!' she yells, drawing her legs up and gripping her ankles, his hips crashing against her buttocks and she feels him so deep that it hurts her now. He kisses her, silences her wayward cries with his mouth, and sucks on her tongue as they share the final moments of a crazy, unimaginable, rut session. She clings to him as waves of her orgasm rush in upon her. 'What about you?'