The sound of the key turning in the lock jolted me from my reverie. I knew that he would be standing behind me, surveying the sight of me in my underwear, obediently kneeling next to the bed. I’d chosen a matching set of dark grey silk and lace. I thought that the colour showed my pale skin at its best. I knew that the knickers cupped and displayed my bum well because of times spent in front of the mirror trying to create the perfect bum pic to send him. I hoped my real life body lived up to the picture’s teasing promise.
I imagined the sign on the hotel door that granted us the privacy to meet for the first time after month’s of messaging. ‘Do not disturb’. What did the hotel staff think as they saw this on the door, did they know what was going on in here, I wondered? I remembered a friend telling me of her husband who liked to listen at hotel room doors, attempting to view what was happening through the keyhole and rubbing his cock through his suit trousers as he did so. I noticed that the thought was strangely arousing.
Pulled back into the room by a sudden noise behind me, my breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to speak. As requested my eyes were downcast which created a limited visual range so the sound of his shoes on the carpet were the only way for me to track where he was. In this cut down world my senses were heightened, I could feel the air on my back and shoulders. I was the prey in this room, caught in a trap I had helped to create and then consented to enter. It was delightful.
The wait seemed interminable. What could he be doing? As my mind whirled I missed the whoosh of air above me as close fitting black hood was placed on my head, blacking out my vision completely. Two fingers entered my mouth, opening it and inviting me to drink water from the bottle held up to me. As soon as the bottle was moved away the fingers re-entered, pulled out, pushed back in again, held my mouth open and pulled out again. I realised he was indicating that I should keep my mouth open. I imagined how my lips must look when viewed from his angle. I must look like a doll I thought, a doll with an open mouth ready to receive whatever was offered to her.
The sound of the zip broke the silence but not the tension. My shallow breath heated my face in the mask, surely that was the reason for my sudden blush? I opened my mouth a little wider, indicating my eagerness to offer it to him. The velvety head of his cock was surprisingly heavy as it rested on my lower lip. I resisted the urge to lightly nibble as I breathed in his scent. Imperial Leather soap, a deeper sandalwood note, and inexplicably, mouth-wateringly, sweet cinnamon too.
He tested me, running it around the outside of my mouth for too long, as my tongue chased for another taste. I was salivating, dripping with desire as he relented and pushed his way into me. He hardened quickly in my mouth and began to thrust, powerfully and carefully until I gasped and gaped with the effort of letting him use me this way. Hands held the side of my head and he pushed further in. Rythmically in and out, over and over until I could hear his breath, ragged and tearing, until he came with a triumphant grunt spilling hot semen into my mouth until it joined my with my own drool in a river over my chin and onto the floor in front of me.
A Food 4 Thought Friday post – privacy