The Yellow Pages Girl Pt. 01

Lastly his eyes told me that he was infatuated with me, and that's a dangerous thing. People can all too often mistake this for love. Yes, he wanted to fuck me, not because of love or even just out of lust, but out of longing. Longing to be in his mid-twenties again, longing for the freedom of his life before the duties and monotonies of being a family man, longing to be seen as an entirely sexual being to a woman. Too many men too often mistake this for love. Then they risk the day-to-day comfort and happiness they had spent their entire twenties creating, for the fleeting feeling of reacquired youth.

I hurriedly snapped out of my deep thoughts. 'Maybe I'm reading more into his eyes than I should,' I mused, "but that guy's cock needs to go on a holiday and my pussy is in desperate need of some tourism.'

For the briefest of moments, I seriously considered diving across the table and throwing myself at him. I envisioned ripping off each other's clothes with wild abandon, freeing his healthy cock from its confinement, watching it grow in front of my eyes, before tracing the underside of it with my tongue as it slid in and out of my mouth, hitting the back of my throat.

My micro fantasy was about to progress to full-on fucking, when it occurred to me that John and I had been sitting there staring at one another over our teacups, in a long and awkward silence. It was probably for the best; even in a fantasy I knew that getting drilled on top of that pine table would be incredibly uncomfortable, not to mention the possibility that John's wife and or child could wander in on our coupling.

I giggled awkwardly... I needed to buy myself time. I couldn't fuck big (I hoped in more ways than one) John right now but this was the closest I'd got in a long time, and I didn't want to lose him. And I was moving on to a new area the next day. I opened up my briefcase and pretended to be looking through my sample portfolios.

'Think girl, think... think, think, think!'

Then an idea popped into my head. I closed my briefcase and gave John a smile of fake contrition.

"I'm so very sorry about this, but I brought the wrong examples with me. I meant to bring the layouts for smaller, local businesses and I'm afraid the ones I actually packed in here are for our national and regional companies."

John laughed, "You're not about to try and tell me that if I advertise regionally that my business will spread regionally, are you?"

As soon as he said it, I realised that's exactly what my manager would have wanted me to do, but it didn't matter, as it was an outright lie. I had of course, brought the right samples.

"I feel so embarrassed," I groaned, laying it on a bit. "You took valuable time out of your day to meet with me and I couldn't even bring the right examples."

"No, no, I am not inconvenienced, how often do you think such an attractive young woman comes in here?" he said reassuringly, smiling with his eyes, which I noticed had dropped to my breasts again.

"Oh, you're too kind, but um... well, I tell you what, I do absolutely believe that if you advertise with us, it would do wonders for your sales, and I think that I can make my case with the right supporting material. I do have an idea," I offered, in some desperation.

"Sure, what do you have in mind?" he replied. I saw him glance at the clock. I was clearly losing his attention.

Now or never. Make or break. The possibility of a bloody good fuck - or another night with my fingers for company, again.

I was sorely tempted to come right out with it and just ask him to come back to my hotel and screw me senseless, preferably in every hole, all night long. But I instinctively knew that being so blatant would have him running for cover. So, I decided to give his brain a get-out clause, so he could at least qualify my proposition as having an outside chance of being innocent.

I cleared my throat and made my pitch. "Well, I know you're busy, so I don't want to take up any more of your business hours, but what I was thinking is... my hotel's only a few miles away... maybe you could pop over this evening? I have all the samples in my room... we could go over them and I could show you what I've got to offer."

Even being as slow on the uptake as most men are, I really hoped he'd read between the lines and pick up on my double meaning. I then added, "I'm sure I can even wangle you a nice discount for your trouble, if that would help? What do you think?"

With the way the dampness was spreading between my legs, I'd have given him the fucking advert for free, if it meant getting his hard man-meat buried in my aching pussy.

I gave him what I hoped was an alluring smile, and made a point of leaning forward slightly, so my boobs rested nicely on the edge of the table. 'Come and fucking get me, big boy', I mused, hoping my message would get through, in some kind of telekinetic way.

"Shall we say 7:30 then?" I asked, although the question was more rhetorical. What we call in the sales business 'an assumed close.' I knew I had him... or rather, I was going to have him.

JOHN

My mind was in turmoil after Charlotte left. I couldn't believe what was happening... having just met possibly the most beautiful woman I'd ever set eyes upon, she had just invited me back to her hotel room that evening. Was she coming on to me? That would be hard to believe... maybe she was just really anxious to get a sale? These advertising companies put a lot of pressure on their people to deliver, after all. That must be it. And the only reason she'd invited me to her room, was that most of the budget hotels have little in the way of public space for meetings.

Maybe she was just a bit lonely, being out on the road so much, and having to spend many evenings alone in her room. Probably just wanted a change from watching mindless TV.

But maybe... just maybe... she wanted a bit more than some company and a chat about advertising... it was a tantalizing possibility - the thought of having torrid sex with someone as beautiful as her.

My mind was churning the dilemma all afternoon. Thankfully, my work didn't involve anything too critical, or I may well have made mistakes left, right and centre. And I made sure to leave ample time to get showered and shaved, before getting into clean jeans and shirt.

Over dinner, I glibly informed my wife that I had to go out to see a potential customer that evening. I embellished the lie a little, saying that the lady was in the market for a couple of stoves and chimneys for a barn conversion project. I surprised myself at how easily the untruth flowed but justified it in my head by thinking of how dull our sex life had become. The prospect, even the faint possibility, of an evening of exciting sex, was just too good to pass up. And what the eye doesn't see...

I made quite a show of gathering together a stack of brochures, tape measure, clipboard and other things that I would normally take to a customer visit and set off from home at about 7pm.

On the way, I glanced down at the piece of paper Charlotte had handed me. In her neat handwriting, it simply said 'Travelodge. Room 425'. I couldn't help but wonder what might happen in Room 425 this evening, and my cock twitched at the thought.

CHARLOTTE

With no further appointments that day, I had ample time to get back to the hotel and get ready, so I had plenty of time to stop off and pick up a bottle of chilled white wine. I decided to have an early meal, settling on a salad from the adjacent Pizza Express. I was hoping I was in for an action-packed evening, so didn't want a stodgy meal -- and certainly nothing with garlic!

Back in my room, I undressed and ran a bath. I was just about to get in it, when on impulse, I picked up a small pair of scissors and gave my bush a nice trim. I admit, I'd got lazy in that department... after all, what was the point in doing maintenance down there, when no-one else was admiring the view? Hopefully that was going to change in the very near future. Having checked my efforts in the mirror, I headed into the bathroom for a lovely, long soak.

After washing my hair, I shaved my legs and pits, then decided to do a little more on my puss. I stood up in the bath, put one leg on the side, then carefully shaved each side of my lips. I was pleased with how smooth it felt and was beginning to feel decidedly sexy. Then I rubbed a big dollop of conditioner into my remaining pubes, so they would hopefully be lovely and soft.

When I'd finished up in the bathroom, swathed in towels I went back into the room and started to think about what to wear. I only had a limited wardrobe of clean casual clothes. Jeans were out of the question -- far too difficult to access and awkward to take off! I wondered about my denim skirt... that showed my legs off nicely, but I had this idea that I'd like to wear stockings, but they didn't really go with a denim skirt. After all, what man could resist those? I did fleetingly wonder if I should open the door just wearing sexy bra, knickers and stockings... even the densest man would be able to get that message! But then I figured that approach might be just a bit too direct, and it must just scare him off.

I set to and dried my hair, then applied a little light makeup; nothing excessive, just enough to enhance my eyes. I was very relieved that I still had my nicest underwear clean and ready to go. Simple white panties and a white lacy bra, to go with light tan hold-up stockings with lacy tops. I checked how I looked in the full-length mirror and decided I looked pretty bloody hot.

I finally decided on a simple white blouse with a plunging neckline and a simple business skirt, which showed off my curves nicely. I dispensed with shoes... it just felt sexier and more intimate without them. Fingers crossed, my careful choice of clothing wouldn't be on my body for very long. I could feel moisture gathering between my legs at the thought of John unwrapping me and was sorely tempted to explore a little with my fingers.

As the clock showed 7pm, then 10 past, I could feel butterflies in my tummy. Would he turn up? There were more than enough reasons why he wouldn't... not being able to come up with a believable excuse for the little wife... problems with the kids... car trouble... the list went on and on, and by 7.20pm, I had convinced myself that he'd be a no-show.

'Relax, girl,' I told myself. 'The guy was hooked. He'll come.' Needing a bit of Dutch courage, I poured myself a glass of wine, then sat on the bed to sip it and wait. And wait.

It was nearly twenty to eight and I was just about ready to get undressed and put my PJ's on, when I was startled by a sudden tapping on the door. Yes!

JOHN

It was already 7.30pm by the time I found a parking spot in the hotel car park. On entering the reception area, I quickly spotted that there was a security door between there and the residents' rooms -- which needed a swipe card to pass through. Damn. So, I had to wait until the receptionist was free, to ask for access. I explained that I was meeting a work colleague, so was thankful I had my sheaf of brochures in a folder, to back up my statement. Luckily, the receptionist accepted my story, and buzzed the door open.

Taking the lift to the 4th floor, I finally located room 425 right at the end of the carpeted corridor. I glanced at my watch... damn, nearly 7.40pm! With a little trepidation, I tapped quietly on the door...

A moment later, the door swung open, to reveal the lovely Charlotte in the doorway. Her face lit up with a beaming smile. "Come in, please," she said, holding the door open and stepping to the side. The area behind the door was just a narrow passage, about three feet wide, so when I entered the room, as I turned sideways slightly to face her, her breasts were almost touching my chest.

In such close proximity, I caught the delicate scent of her hair, and it seemed the most natural thing, to lean in and kiss her on the cheek. She didn't recoil, thank goodness... instead she kissed me back on mine.

"Go on in," she said with a friendly smile, gesturing the room and closing the door. I made my way into the room and turned to look at her as she padded into the room. She was wearing similar, but different, outfit from what she had worn that afternoon. A fitted, light green skirt and a cream-coloured blouse, with a deep V-neck, which showed a hint of cleavage. Her feet were devoid of shoes, but her feet and legs were sheathed in nylon... stockings, maybe? Her hair was no longer tied back and instead, cascaded over her shoulders.

I could feel my heart thudding as she smiled and I stared into her sea-green eyes... oh my, she was truly gorgeous!

Glancing around the room, it was a pretty typical Travelodge room. Dominated by a king-size bed, there was a small desk with a chair and a sofa, with a couple of suitcases lying on it. Charlotte clearly used the room as her office, as the desk was covered with various papers and folders.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked, indicating the tea and coffee facilities. "Tea? Coffee? Or I have some white wine, but it's not very cold, I'm afraid. They don't provide fridges in these places!"

She giggled and added, "I've already had one myself... for some reason, I was a bit anxious about you coming over tonight; I wasn't sure if you would, to be honest."

Charlotte gestured toward the sofa... "Sorry about the clutter," she said. "I do, literally, live out of a suitcase!" She laughed and added, "I guess I'm technically of no fixed abode."

"Really?" I asked. "You mean you haven't got a house somewhere?"

"There wouldn't be much point. In all honesty. I'd never see it. I'm out on the road every day, so I just move from one hotel to another."

This squared away some of the questions which had formed in my mind... it was beginning to seem unlikely that she had a boyfriend or fiancé tucked away somewhere.

"A white wine would be lovely, thank you," I said, getting back to the original question. Charlotte padded over to the bedside locker, where an empty tumbler stood. Holding it up, she said with a grin, "Sorry, they don't provide posh wine glasses in these places, so it'll have to be the tumblers from the bathroom, I'm afraid."

I chuckled and assured her that would be fine, and I enjoyed the view of her peachy bottom as she shimmied into the bathroom to fetch the second glass.

"Make yourself comfortable, please," she called out. Being as the sofa was fully taken up with her worldly goods, I pulled the chair out from the desk and sat down.

Charlotte returned, holding a bottle of wine and the two glasses. She poured two and handed me one, then took hers and put it on the bedside locker. She sat down on the side of the bed and picked up a folder from the floor. Showing it to me, she said, "This is what I should have brought today. Want to come and take a look?"

I certainly did want to take a look, but her folder wasn't really top of my agenda. Then she patted the other side of the bed, inviting me to join her on there. Then, with a graceful movement, she swung her legs up on the bed and rolled onto her side and opened the folder in the middle of the bed.

I was treated to a most delightful view of her shapely legs as her skirt rode up slightly, the curve of her under-thigh clearly visible. I picked up my wine and took it round to the locker on the other side of the bed, before settling, half seated, half lying on the bed, her work folder between us. We sipped our wine as Charlotte, propped up on one elbow, started flicking through the folder, describing various advert sizes, the different available styles and showed how they would look in the printed book.

I was struggling to concentrate on the documents and what she was saying, my attention being completely taken by the shape and form of her body, so close to me... the way her hair tumbled over her shoulder, the swell of her breasts under the thin blouse, the way her nylon-clad thighs slid over each other as she moved. With the scent of her perfume in my nostrils, it was as much as I could do to resist grabbing her and start ripping her clothes off...

Charlotte snapped the folder shut and looked up at me. "I get the feeling you're not really interested in this stuff, are you?" she said, with a slight grin. "I must admit, I've had enough of it for today."

With that, she raised her hand to the back of her neck and rubbed it, slowly rotating her head and groaned slightly. "Stiff neck?" I asked.

"Yeah, a bit... I think it's the pressure of this work, and all the driving. Just get a bit tensed up sometimes."

Finally, here was maybe the chance I needed to get my hands on her lovely body... what girl can resist a gentle massage?

"I could give your shoulders a rub, if you like. I'm pretty good with my hands, though they might be a bit rough," I said with a chuckle.

She looked up and smiled at me. "Oh, do you know, that would be wonderful," she replied. "I haven't felt a man's hands on me in months!"

"You are kidding?" I replied, genuinely shocked. "A beautiful woman like you? You must have men queuing up to take you out!"

"I wish," she said, glumly. "This job would suit a nun perfectly!"

"Well, I'd better see if I can soothe those muscles of yours, then," I said, grinning. "Why don't you roll over on your front, and I'll see what I can do."

Charlotte paused in thought for a moment. Then she sat up and put her soft hand on the back of mine, looking straight into my eyes. "No, sorry, I don't want you do that," she stated, a little flatly.

I cringed inwardly, realising I'd overstepped the mark and obviously made a fool of myself. I'd allowed myself to think there was more in this than there actually was. I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment. I could have cheerfully run out the door at that moment.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -" I started saying, but she cut me off by raising a finger to her lips.

"What I meant is... I don't want you to rub my shoulders and go through all that pretence. You don't need to seduce me... I just want you to undress me and make love to me. If you fancy me as much as I fancy you, we should be able to make this a night to remember, don't you think?"

I was open-mouthed, completely taken aback by her directness and honesty.

"And besides," she added, looking very deliberately at her watch, "I don't imagine you can be out too long, which means we haven't got all night. So, let's stop wasting time, eh?"

With that, I did what I'd been wanting to do since I first met her that afternoon. I leaned over and took her face between my hands and kissed her deeply. She sighed into my mouth as our lips melted together and our tongues intertwined. I could instantly feel my cock swelling in response to our passionate kiss, and when she slid her nylon-clad leg over mine, the sensation I felt, even through the coarse material of my jeans, made me shiver with delight.

A moment later, Charlotte broke the kiss, then slid off the bed into a standing position. One hand went to the buttons of her blouse, the other was outstretched to me -- a silent invitation to join her.

I wasted no time and shimmied over the bed to join her. Standing in front of her, she gasped as I traced my fingertips down over the swell of her breasts, before sliding them round her body, over her hips, so I could squeeze her peachy bottom. I leaned in to gently kiss her neck and nibble her ear lobe.

Returning my hands to her blouse, I started to gently undo the buttons... as the blouse opened, the swelling mounds of her beautiful soft breasts came into view, a delicious cleavage formed by the lacy bra she wore underneath. Once the buttons were all undone, I tugged the blouse out of the waistband of her skirt, and a moment later, she had shrugged it off her shoulders and cast it aside.