Would Like To Meet. No Strings Ch. 06bynortythorts©
Here is the first part -- and first "climax" of several! -- of the grand finale of Joan, David -- and Laurence too.
This final section (one or two more chapters to follow) of Joan's story has its characters indulging in role play and fantasy for their naughty pleasure. In effect it will be a series of role-plays rather than one extended one.
There will inevitably be some inconsistencies and unrealistic elements - simply because they are role-playing for their own enjoyment and not acting out a part to the finest detail or adhering to a detailed script and plot, which would intrude and spoil their fun - please bear this in mind and try to enter into their enjoyment of the flexibly played roles.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTIONAL
It was Joan's fourth meeting with Laurence. She now trusted him enough to be escorted to his apartment that he rented while on his legal business during the week. As previously he let her take the initiative and she had come up with a naughty role-play fantasy. She took the part of a cruel stepmother discovering him looking at porn magazines (of which he had a small collection, he had confided guiltily).
She brandished his hairbrush at him and used it to spank him with, though not too hard. She had become fond of Laurence, though not romantically, and was relieved that it was the fact of being spanked that turned him on rather than receiving hard blows.
And, despite her stern warnings not to "bloody well dare rub yourself against my thigh, far less bloody well ejaculate on it!" -- though the sternness was feigned, of course -- he had done so.
And, though his penis was average sized both in girth and length, Joan had been deliciously shocked at the copious amount of cum that emerged from it. She regained her composure and ordered him to clean it off with his handkerchief. Then she told him to kneel before her and to kiss between her legs. She had a powerful orgasm -- he certainly knew how to please where giving oral sex was concerned.
She looked into his adoring eyes as he clambered onto the bed beside her. The time had almost come to tell him.
They kissed and cuddled for a while. Then she told him that she had something to confess. She told him her real name and that she felt bad only to be telling him at this stage. And -- although he had promised at their first meeting not to ask, nor to think badly of her if she was seeing someone else, as he considered the arrangement to be "indeed, ah, no strings", she told him about David.
He was not in the least bothered by the news about her pseudonym and said that he half suspected, simply because he would do the same if advertising to meet strangers. Her disclosure about David did not really surprise him either, he said, given her attractiveness. Joan could tell, though, that deep down he had hoped that he was the only one she was seeing. She could not blame him.
She also told Laurence that David had turned out not to be her former neighbour. Partly it was because she wanted to be as honest with him as she could, and partly because of The Idea. At this Laurence burst into laughter as he imagined the scene unfolding. His laughter was quiet and almost wheezing, and he laughed until tears began to roll down his cheeks. It was a very infectious laugh, and Joan shared his hilarity. It was useful, too, as it defused the tension and prepared the way for her next revelation.
She told him of her Idea, her Ultimate Fantasy (though not to be taken as a signal that this would constitute the last time she would see him). Without going into detail or being over-emotional, Joan told him of her ex-husband's cheating on her and how part of the appeal of the "no-strings fun" was a sort of secret payback and revenge.
She didn't go into great detail about The Idea and concentrated mainly on the fact that, if they were both willing, it would include both him and David separately or maybe together as a threesome with her. She did not want either to shock him or spoil some of the surprise. She asked him to think about it and let her know. To her delight and despite a measure of surprise on his part he did not seem too shocked and agreed to do so.
She did the same with David on their next meeting, their sixth. He loved the idea, his face lighting up instantly, but she urged him to think it over anyway.
And, the following week, the three of them met at the pub where she had first met Laurence. She stayed with them both for the first hour to break the ice and as a visual aide-memoir of what was on offer. Then she departed and left them to chat with each other.
Her shame and arousal rose to new heights and were matched only by the apprehension of awaiting each of their decisions.
As she expected, David got back to her first, full of enthusiasm and chuckling with almost incredulous delight. Lawrence was more restrained, but he did sound keen, even though he had one or two reservations. He wanted to know more detail of what she had in mind when they next met, though he offered to meet the entire cost himself.
David also eagerly wanted to know more when he next met up with her for more "no strings adult fun". He, too, offered to meet some of the cost. He seemed to have no reservations at all.
Joan told them, independently, something of the Ultimate Fantasy and put Laurence's mind at rest over one or two concerns, but kept the detail secret. The secretive nature of it to which she alone was privy and over which she had control added to her excitement.
Next she began to launch her plans -- the date, the location, and the little but essential details. She had to rein in her impetuosity. There was no need to rush, she told herself. It would take as long as it took to get it all just right.
She was slightly annoyed that she had made it difficult to return to the country hotel where she had arranged her first liaison with David. But when she had checked out, the young man on reception who had ogled her had pushed his luck a little too far.
She smiled at the memory. He had leered at her breasts again as she handed over the keys.
"I hope that you and your... er... COMPANION" enjoyed your stay, Madam," he had sneered. "Has your COMPANION left already?" His tone was sardonic, and the way he phrased "companion" was laced with innuendo.
At that point Joan had nearly lost it. She glanced around to make sure that nobody was within earshot and leaned forward. As soon as she did so she saw his eyes fix on the top of her cleavage.
"Yes he has left -- he didn't stay the night," she said softly and pleasantly. Then she changed her tone. "And yes we did enjoy ourselves while we were here. In fact three fucking times we enjoyed ourselves in as many hours. Then in the evening I met someone else and enjoyed myself with him twice!" she hissed.
"I know what you're thinking, with your judgmental sarcasm. What I do here is none of your bloody business. Well, if that makes me a slut, what does it make YOU for fancying me? You wish like hell that you had been one of my two 'COMPANIONS' yourself, so don't take that self-righteous tone with me, you... you prick! You can't take your eyes off my fucking tits, and my legs, can you, you pervert?"
She awaited a response, but none came, though he did flush bright red. His sullen silence angered her even more. A couple entered the lobby to check out also. Joan spoke a little louder for their benefit.
"Well, I'm considering making a formal complaint about you and your attitude, and if I ever come here again and you lower your eyes from my face for one sodding second I bloody well will! Understand?"
He said nothing in response and nodded in a surly manner.
When she got outside she had laughed aloud. She laughed at her own courage in confronting him. She had never spoken to anyone like that, rarely if ever used such language.
Also, although she occasionally liked to know that her appearance had turned a head or two, she usually found being eyed up extremely intimidating. But today she had struck back. She laughed, too, at his embarrassment, and at her tawdry exploits the previous day -- though as she had said, he had no right to judge her. She had simply indulged in what he would love to indulge in. She felt good, strong, invigorated.
Anyway, after half a dozen or so calls she got the hotel booking she wanted. Yes, they could manage that, she was told. They had a big party booking and they were sorry, there was to be a disco until late. But they had a single room and a double room, both on the same floor though not adjoining. If that was acceptable. It was all Joan could do not cheer in triumph.
She booked a couple of days off work, wanting no stress or distractions to take the edge off her thrill. Her boss smiled kindly at her coyness in refusing to disclose her plans. She looked at Joan and said, "Well, good luck -- it sounds as if you have something really special lined up. If it includes a fella, double good luck!"
Joan thought that as her plans included two fellas she should have been wished triple good luck. But she doubted that she would need it.
Then there were all the special details to take care of, including choosing and obtaining lingerie to complement her dress. Not least was that special dress itself she wanted to wear for the occasion. She had only worn it once before, and it brought a tear to her eye when she tried it on, but the prospect of the Ultimate Fantasy cheered her.
It was a slight squeeze, but she managed to get into it and determined to lose a pound or two over the next three weeks. She also had her hair restored to its natural, raven colour and had it trimmed short. The style was a bit retro, but she felt that it would appeal to David to see her again as he remembered her from the past.
Three weeks. Not for a long time had three weeks gone so slowly for her -- or for David and Laurence, for that matter. Her excitement -- and theirs -- grew with each day until it was almost unbearable.
She picked up David as arranged, and smiled as he put his overnight holdall into the boot of her car and his suit, in its protective cover, on the back seat. They did their best to chat about trivia but he was clearly as preoccupied as she was.
As she checked in, Joan announced to the receptionist that her husband would be joining them later. Then she and David went up the stairs, for all the world appearing to be mother and son booking into separate rooms, and awaiting the head of the family.
David headed to "his" room, the single, and Joan entered the double room. She was slightly disappointed that a four-poster bedroom had not been available, but this one did have a king-sized bed, which was perfect. She only unpacked a few items from her case, wanting the remainder to stay hidden for now from her two "companions".
Fifteen minutes later or so she knocked on David's door and they went downstairs and to the bar. Joan bought drinks. Shortly afterwards Laurence arrived and bought a drink at the bar. Joan greeted him with a kiss as he joined them.
As they took their places in the dining room, a casual observer would have assumed that they were a family. After all, Joan and Laurence both wore rings, and were old enough to be David's parents. Anyone observing them more carefully would have been rather intrigued, however.
The "wife", although modestly dressed, was certainly good looking, but by contrast her husband was a few years older, plain looking, and slightly rotund. Also, while she seemed vivacious, the other two seemed rather preoccupied. There was clearly some tension behind the scene.
An astute observer might have picked up on something else, and in fact the waitress who attended to them did, but dismissed it as so unlikely -- and distasteful -- that it was not possible. The "son" seemed to look at his mother in a way that went beyond a normal mother-son relationship. But, the waitress told herself, it must just be her imagination running away with her.
Maybe she would have found the reality almost as disturbing. The attractive, vivacious, forty-something woman seated at the table had earlier placed a personal ad for "no strings adult fun." The young man with her was not her son but her first "date", and they had had sex -- slightly kinky, role-play sex at that -- three times in as many hours.
The older man was another respondent to her ad. The woman had met up with him the same day as her liaison with the younger man, and had sex with him twice. On the same day, then, she had had sex five times with two different men. And now the three of them were booked into this hotel for shared sex. Overnight. But, though she was intrigued by the three of them, such a sordid scenario never crossed the waitress' mind.
They returned to the bar and Laurence went to buy drinks and to order champagne and two glasses for the double room into which he and Joan were booked. They sat there sipping their drinks, each awaiting Joan's cue.
Joan's excitement and arousal were rising by the minute, and was fuelled by the tension in her two companions. Of the three of them she was calling the shots and she alone knew fully what she had in mind.
Their apprehension made it difficult to talk, but a sound test from the function room opposite provided a welcome distraction. About fifteen minutes later a party arrived -- they looked as if they were on a works "do" -- and were escorted, giggling and laughing raucously to the function room. Joan and her companions glanced half-interestedly across to watch.
About twenty minutes later the disco kicked off in the function room. In the bar Joan finished her drink and stood up. Her companions' faces looked strained. She discreetly took David's single room key and in a soft voice reminded him of the plan. She would take the champagne from her and Laurence's room and place it in David's. He would need to collect his room key from her room while she "was getting herself ready in her en-suite" (her eyes twinkled as she spoke the phrase). He would then go to his room, change into his suit waistcoat and trousers and return to deliver the champagne as if he was a member of the hotel staff. By which time she would be ready. For him.
She gave a contrived but erotic little pant in his ear and whispered, "and when you come in, Joan will have a lovely surprise for you!" She reminded him, too, that to avoid suspicion he must remain in the bar with Laurence for at least thirty minutes after she had gone upstairs. David blushed as she turned away and left to go to her (and Laurence's) room.
David and Laurence resisted the burning urge to watch her go. They also struggled to make conversation, partly of course because they hardly knew each other but also because of their nerves.
Also, although both of them were aroused and excited, they each genuinely liked Joan and were unwilling to speak of her in a sexual way behind her back. She was hot, she was even behaving wantonly right now, but they genuinely respected and admired her and enjoyed her vivacious company. They knew that this was just an act for her fun and theirs, and in any case her fantasies and acts were no different than theirs. Deep down she was a respectable lady. This switch from nice lady to slutty and back again in fact made her naughtiness the more arousing. It was every bloke's fantasy, and to be honest neither could fully believe it was happening to him.
Joan's pulse was racing as she took the champagne and glasses to David's room, along with a pair of white cotton gloves she had purchased for the occasion, and returned to her own. She tossed his room key onto the bed where he would see it. She unpacked her remaining clothes, grinning with delight, and took what she needed into the en-suite bathroom. Over the muffled noise of the disco downstairs she heard David enter her room, announce it was him come to collect his key, and then he immediately departed to get changed also.
It was probably hardest for Lawrence. He had to remain behind and alone in the bar for a good forty-five minutes after David left.
Although he was very keen on going along with his former neighbour's role play, David felt very awkward about dressing up and taking the champagne a few doors' distance to her room, and hoped he would not be spotted by any of the actual staff.
He checked his appearance in the mirror, straightened his tie and hair, and donned the white cotton gloves she had bought. He grinned, delighted at the detail to which she went.
He took the champagne and glasses, stuffed the key to his room into his pocket and glanced tentatively along the corridor to make sure that nobody was about. He pulled the door to behind him and walked quickly past the other five or six doors to hers. He knocked on her door, called "Room service" and stepped in.
What he saw shocked him so much that one of the champagne glasses fell from his hand to the floor, though fortunately it did not break, and for a few moments he forgot to close the door behind him.
She was sitting on the end of the bed facing the doorway. Her white dress was strapless and although its neckline was modest it showed the very top of her cleft. The skin of her shoulders and below her throat looked soft and inviting. The subtle white embroidery of the dress was very appealing.
Her sandal-style shoes were white, and between them and the hem of her gown he could see white nylon. He guessed they were stockings rather than tights. The white fabric of her bridal gown shimmered, and the veil of her headdress was flicked behind her head. It contrasted lusciously with her short, near-black hair.
Her mascara had run a little. He guessed that it was just an added detail effected in the bathroom rather than the result of genuine tears.
She smiled, trying to make it look weak and vulnerable, though his transfixed expression made it hard not to break into a big grin.
David pushed the door closed behind him.
"I... er... your champagne, Madam," he said, unable to keep his eyes from roaming all over her.
Joan gave a few sniffs and dabbed her eyes.
"Thank you," she said in a shaky voice. "Though I doubt it will be much use. Tonight of all bloody nights!"
"I... I know it's largely a m-marriage of c-convenience, but I d-did think he might b-be able to behave himself on his honeymoon night," she continued, her voice seeming to be racked with emotion. He wondered whether it was entirely put on, or whether some of it was down to genuine excitement.
"I... I'm sorry, Madam," he said in a manner as close to aloofness as he could manage. He was getting harder by the moment.
"I c-came upstairs for a bit to g-get out of the way -- so I don't have to watch him getting drunker and dancing with B-Brenda and staring at her tits as they b-bounce about!" she hissed.
Her veil flopped forward and she brushed it back again.
"Surely not, Madam? Not on... on your special day?" he said. He had a job not to laugh once more at her attention to detail. Just a short time ago he and Laurence had said to her that they hoped the noise from the disco would not intrude too much. Now he knew it was all part of the scenario -- Joan the bride's husband philandering under her nose at "their" wedding reception; Joan the cheated-on, seducing a younger man in revenge and behind her groom's back as he partied downstairs. It was almost unbearably tawdry and delightful.
She raised her handkerchief to her mouth and made several sobbing noises. Her bare shoulders jerked up and down. So did the inviting flesh -- the hint of the tops of her breasts -- just above her neckline.
David sat on the bed. His arousal made it difficult to hold back and take things slowly. He put his arm around her bare shoulders, Her skin was soft and warm, and enticing, and her perfume was strong and sweet as she leaned in to him.