Two Ships in the Night

The convention had ended earlier in the afternoon, and most everyone had already checked out and headed back to the airport. I purposely stayed another night in the hotel, not in any hurry to get home to where my life was more complicated and stressful.

On the road, life seemed easier. Breezier. And sleazier.

I'd gone back to the room, showered and changed into casual clothes, a pair of khakis, a button-down white Oxford, blue blazer and loafers. No socks.

From the Carolinas, that's casual. Most everywhere else, that's preppy.

I walked into the lobby bar around 6 o'clock thinking I'd get a drink and maybe walk the streets of DC before making late dinner plans. I ordered a vodka tonic, a double, and collapsed into a chair. I didn't even notice the woman two seats to my right until I sat down. She was looking at me smiling.

I stood immediately and apologized for being impolite, and she laughed and answered in a Southern drawl, "Oh hush. I did the same thing 10 minutes ago."

She'd been at the convention, too. I'd seen her across the room the morning before, both of us away from the groups huddled in serious conversations. Neither of us were interested in what anyone else had to say. We were both drinking coffee when our eyes met. We lingered just for a second, staring instinctively at the other's wedding band.

I raised my coffee cup and she did the same, blushing slightly then walking back into the conference room.

And now here she was again, dressed casually in jeans and a white blouse, gold hanging from her neck and wrists and sexy boots. She was stunning, green eyes and blonde hair with a slight hint of red. Her skin was alabaster, starkly accentuating her red lips and nails.

She was perfect.

"Are you just gonna stare at me or order me a drink?" she asked, breaking me out of a reverie.

"You are so damn pretty," I stammered before turning to the bartender.

"Fix the lady a drink, please," I said. "It's on me."

He made her another margarita as she polished off the first one, and he asked if I'd like to charge the drinks to the room.

"1233," I said, looking back to make sure she'd heard my room number.

"We're on the same floor," she said, a sly smile forming in the corner of her mouth.

I got up from my chair and moved to the seat next to hers.

"I'm Charles," I said, holding out my hand. "My friends call me Charlie."

"Well, Charlie," she said, taking my hand and squeezing it sensuously, then dropping my hand to the bar without lifting hers.

"I'm Charlotte," she said, pronouncing it "Shah-laht."

I recognized the accent. It was pure South Carolina. I tilted my head and said "Let me guess. Columbia?"

"Charleston," she cooed.

We both smiled widely.

"Charlie and Charlotte from Charleston," I said. "I'm not going to tell you where I'm from. It'll just confuse things."

"You must be from Charlotte," she said confidently.

I lifted my glass, and she lifted hers.

"Here's to Charlotte," I said.

"Damn straight," she said.

Her hand was still on mine, her nails softly caressing my palm as she took a drink without taking her eyes from mine. She traced one finger down my palm to the underside of my wrist as we stared into each other's eyes.

My cock began to swell as I finally broke the silence.

"Are you in a hurry to get home?" I asked.

She shook her head slowly as she continued to trace her nail on my palm and wrist.

"No," she said. "You?"

I just shook my head without saying a word and took another sip from my drink. We were both smiling at each other, both of us studying the other. Finally she took her hand from mine and raised it to my hair, brushing a lock from my forehead.

"You're not so bad yourself," she said, taking a long swig from the margarita and standing suddenly. "Another round?"

"Sure," I said, standing and pulling her chair back.

"Two more please," she told the bartender. "Charge them to 1233."

She winked at me and walked away, leaving her purse on the chair.

"I'll be right back," she said, walking toward a restroom, her ass swaying, both the bartender and I staring.

"My God," I said. "Have you ever seen a more perfect ass in your life?"

"Nope," he said. "Can't say that I have."

She knew we were watching. You can tell.

I was talking to the bartender when she returned, standing behind me with one hand on my shoulder, leaning in to grab her drink.

"Keep your seat, handsome," she said quietly, one of her breasts brushing against me as she reached.

She stood there and rubbed my shoulder as the bartender turned to wipe the bar. I spun around in my chair and she was standing inches from me, her tits in my face. She was wearing no bra.

"Up here," she said, putting one finger under my chin and pulling it up to where I was no longer staring at her perfect nipples protruding through the sheer white blouse.

She traced her finger down my neck and chest, down the front of my shirt to my belt, where she tapped the buckle and smiled at me.

"So tell me Charlie," she said. "Do you think they'll be serving drinks in 1233?"

I smiled and wrapped one arm around her, three fingers on her waist and two on the top of her ass.

"I'm quite certain that can be arranged," I said, standing and letting my hand slide across her ass. Her hand brushed the bulge in my pants as I stood, and she blushed deep red.

I signed the check and met her at the elevator. She was holding the door open and had already used her room card to push '12,' the concierge level.

As the door closed, I pulled her toward me, her lips inches from mine. I felt her hips push into mine and sensed one of her legs coming off the ground. I reached down and grabbed her under a thigh and pulled it high and out a little, then I slammed my swollen cock between her legs, still not kissing her, grinding my cock into her as we stared into each other's eyes.

The bell rang as we reached the 12th floor, walking off feeling light on our feet, more than a little tipsy as we passed the concierge.

"A bottle of tequila, please," I said as we walked past.

"Well, I see you two have met," she said, picking up the phone.

Charlotte never said a word, never took her eyes off me as we walked arm in arm to my room, into the cool darkness and collapsing onto the king-sized bed.

"Oh Charlie," she whispered as she kissed me softly, then straddling me and rising.

She felt my cock growing larger between her legs. I could feel her shudder as she ran her hands down her legs and back up.

"We're never going home," she cooed as she lifted her blouse, her body in silhouette against the light barely coming through a curtain. "Let's make this damn convention last forever."

-----------------------------------------------------

The knock on the door caught us by surprise.

Charlotte scrambled off the bed, stark naked and grabbed my shirt. I stumbled to find my boxers in the dim light then made my way to the door, looking through the peep hole to see Sharon, our concierge, standing there smiling at me, one hand her hip and one on a serving tray on wheels.

"Open the door Charlie," she said. "Tell Miss Charlotte to put on some clothes."

I opened the door without thinking, standing there in my boxers, my cock half hard and Sharon staring straight at it.

I held the door for her as she pushed the tray in.

"Hello Charlotte," she said without looking at her.

Charlotte was on the bed wearing nothing but my white button-down Oxford, her hair all over her face, kneeling with the shirt barely covering anything at all.

She was red-faced and smiling like a kitten.

"You caught us," she said softly.

Sharon took the bottle of tequila from the tray and placed it on a table, then took glasses, a bottle of margarita mix and a bucket of ice and placed them on the table too.

"Need anything else?" she said, still smiling and looking at my cock protruding through the bottom of my boxers.

Neither of us said anything.

"Let me know," she said, pushing the tray out. "Would love to join you guys."

She laughed as she opened the door. Charlotte and I were staring at each other. She tilted her head and shrugged.

"When do you get off?" Charlotte said.

We all laughed as the door closed. Then I made us a couple of strong drinks. We'd already fucked once. Charlotte came twice and was straddling my face when the knock on the door came.

I handed her a drink, her tits bouncing out as she reached for it.

"Now where were we?" I asked, clinking our glasses as she licked salt from the brim and purred.

"God, this is fun," she said. "What time is it?"

I looked at my watch and shook my head.

"Eight o'clock," I said.

We both laughed as she bounced off the bed again and threw the curtains wide open. It was still daylight and would be for another hour at least. She stood there staring out onto the city below.

"C'mere," she said excitedly. "Someone's looking at me."

I walked to the window and looked across at the building beside us. It was another hotel. She pointed directly across to an open window where a man was indeed watching.

Charlotte let my shirt fall off her shoulders, put her drink on a table and went to her knees. She began to suck my cock as the guy watched. Eventually, he dropped his pants and started to masturbate. Charlotte laughed with my cock in her mouth then said "can I give him a show?"

"I think we already are," I said.

"I have a better idea," she said, standing up and pulling a rolling chair from the desk.

Charlotte sat back in the chair and propped her legs over the arms.

"Hand me that bottle," she said.

I screwed the top onto it and handed her the bottle of margarita mix then watched her slide in down between her legs and begin to fuck herself with it. I stood behind her and played with her tits while the man stroked harder and harder, a splat of cum quickly hitting his window and running down slowly.

Charlotte brought the bottle to her lips, giggling, and began to clean it then suck it as the man closed the curtains and disappeared.

She sat there for a few more seconds, her legs still spread open, moaning as I played with her tits. Then out of the blue she said "I need a shower."

In a matter of seconds, we went from the window to the shower, naked again, stepping into the steaming water. She took the hand-held shower head from the wall began to spray me all over. The sensation of it on my balls was indescribable. Then she turned it toward her shaved pussy and began to moan. I watched her cum, holding to me with one hand and masturbating with the jet stream of hot water, her eyes closed, her head spinning. It was as if I wasn't even there.

When she finished and opened her eyes, she shut the water off and grabbed a towel, drying us both slowly and sensuously as my cock began to harden again.

"Charlie," she said dreamily, her voice lilting as if she were asking a question.

"Yes," I said.

She was silent, but her brow was furrowed. She was thinking seriously about something.

"Do you take Viagra?"

I laughed and took the towel from her, wrapping it around her waist and popping her on the ass.

"I don't need it," I said, nonchalantly.

She looked back as she sashayed out of the bathroom and picking up her drink. She took a long swig as she picked up the phone.

"You're going to need it," she said, winking at me.

"Hey Sharon!" she was giddy. "It's Charlotte in 1233."

It was only 8:15.

To be continued...