My Afternoon In Room 220
by Emma Kate
When I arrived at Duncan's suite in the hotel there were countless butterflies churning in the pit of my stomach. I had been sexually attracted to him for almost as long as I could remember, and could still hardly believe that the opportunity had finally presented itself for me to enjoy the reality rather than merely the endless fantasies I had conjured up around his body. There is something exhilarating about having the chance to act out the desire of a lifetime, even if its morality was rather questionable.
Duncan knew I was coming and the door was blocked open when I reached the top of the stairs. I stood on the threshold for a full minute nervously smoothing my skirt over my hips, slipped off my wedding and engagement rings and putting them into my purse, freshening up my lipstick and perfume, and hoping that I looked available, desirable, sexual, and seductive.
Then with heart in mouth I gave the door a gentle tap, pushing it slowly open. Duncan appeared at the living room door just across from the small entrance and silently motioned me to come in. I smiled uncertainly then kicking off my heels I followed him into the room. I had been all adrenalin and estrogen since I had woken that morning, and had found it very hard now to keep my sense of arousal under control.
As far as the rest of my family were concerned this was an ordinary day. My husband had gone off to work, and as far as he knew I would not be doing anything special, except that he had agreed to pick up my stepdaughter late from her high school because I hold told him I would be busy all afternoon. When the house was empty I had spent the whole morning getting ready, wanting Duncan not just to desire me but to be overcome with lust for my body. Despite the fact that I was content in my marriage, his reappearance from my long ago past fed my eagerness to surrender my sexual all to him, hoping that he would give me his sexual all in return.
I had a wonderful husband and adored being mother to his daughter. I knew I shouldn't be doing this, but despite gnawing guilt and butterflies in the pit of my stomach the desire, lust, and anticipation were too much. The rest of my life would be spent wondering if I did not go through with it. I was on the brink of adultery but despite all my well-fomed religious misgivings the prospect excited me.
Perhaps Duncan wasn't the most gorgeous man in the world, but I had itched for him since we were in our teens and in high school together. I am certain he was never aware of my passion for him, but I had noticed him and had lain in bed at night for years fantasizing about him. I had never even registered on his radar, there were plenty of pretty girls who scurried around him to keep him busy, but Duncan had always been my secret passion and I had always wondered if the day would come when he lay between my breasts.
Only once when we had been at school together had I chatted amiably with him once while watching a football game, it made my year, but after graduating we went our separate ways and while I still yearned for him I never thought I would see him again. Yet he had continued to inhabit my fantasies, especially during my wilderness years, but I would have died laughing if you were to tell me that I would be standing on the verge of sexual reality with him.
That lunchtime Duncan wore clean but faded jeans and a crisp white cotton shirt, his longish dark hair was slightly messed, but his body language and eyes together told me that his body was hungering for mine as much as I hungered for him. I started to say hello, but couldn't get the word out because in an instant his arms were around me, his lips were pressed against mine, and then I was breathlessly kissing him back. My bag dropped off my shoulder as he clasped me, the feelings inside started to ascend to what I knew would be a crescendo. I wrapped my arms around his back and ran my hands up and down his spine as we clung to each other. I was in seventh heaven.
I was enraptured by his musky manly smell that mingled with the scent of expensive aftershave, but it was his lips that required all my concentration, demanding more of my attention – and getting it. They were soft and skilled, and he knew how to use them to delight a woman. I relished the smoothness of his freshly shaved chin as it rubbed against the softness of my face, then no sooner had I started to enjoy this than his tongue pressed through the barrier of lips and teeth into my mouth. I felt the butterflies in my stomach heave once more, producing yet another surge of raw animal arousal. The years dropped away, and at that moment I temporarily abandoned my identity of these last years as Peter's wife and Sarah's stepmother, and instead I felt like a hot and gawky teenager just setting out on that vast erotic adventure that is life.
Penetration by Duncan had been an essential part of my fantasies, and now with his tongue he was penetrating me with such skill and passion that I could only imagine what it would be like when we were naked and he was penetrating me with his hardness lower down. My whole body was alive and my skin impossibly sensitive. I tried to relax in his arms, basking in his kisses but as one long-denied passion after another surfaced there was nothing I could do but return his attentions until finally we both needed a moment and catch our breaths. As I had driven over I had considered playing hard to get, but that would have required self-control which at that moment was impossible. He couldn't stop touching me, and I couldn't stop letting him do so. Finally, he placed his hands on either side of my face and looked at me incredulously: for a moment time seemed to stand still.
There was a long, adoring smile then he began kissing again, this time using his hands to guide my face toward his lips so that he could plant the kiss on exactly the spot that he wanted. I never thought I would ever be kissed by Duncan, let alone be devoured like this. I let out a funny little whimper and my body squirmed with girlish pleasure. His attention made my face burn, bringing alive every nerve-ending in my body in an even more exaggerated manner. We had hardly been together fifteen minutes but he could already do what he wanted with me.
Still holding and kissing me, Duncan gently guided me backward across the room toward the sofa, and then having positioned me he gently lowered me onto the cushions and then was there beside me. Smiling to himself he gazed at my features and then with the tips of his fingers he traced the contours of my face, but this was merely the prelude to finding the little pearl buttons down the front of my soft silk blouse, each of which he prepared to undo. Was it only yesterday that I had squandered a fortune on this top?
While I loved his hands fumbling around my breasts it was his kisses that I wanted more of. Yet one at a time he unbuttoned me, each time leaning forward and kissing that little bit more of my skin that was uncovered. Finally I was totally unbuttoned. With delight I sank into his arms, reaching mine around his neck so I could smell the musky manliness of him. Meanwhile he untucked my blouse from my skirt and his hands stroking the skin on my back, toying with me, sighing over my softness, and whispering how much he loved my perfume. Another surge of arousal made me involuntarily gasp and he held me closer for a moment.
We kissed some more while his hands rested on the waistband of my skirt. I reached behind and helped him with those buttons which made it easier for him to unzip me. Then his hand slid in and started feeling me in ways that were to die for. My husband and the various other men I had been with had never touched me like this. I regret that the man to whom I was married did not seem to know how to appreciate my woman's body as Duncan did. Duncan had obviously had lots of experience, and Peter, with whom I was deeply in love, was much more conventional – a wonderful husband, but he would hardly win any prizes in the lovemaking stakes.
"Mmmmm," Duncan whispered as I allowed him to help me off with the soft blue blouse and toss it on the floor.
"Nice bra," he smiled as he glanced at the baby blue confection I had also purchased the previous day with a costly slip and panties to match. I had wanted him to enjoy me as he unwrapped me so had taken great care with my clothes and undergarments. If I was going to do adultery, I would do it with style – besides I loved being undressed. Then without asking he unclasped it. I felt utterly brazen as I shrugged if off, but by now I so, so wanted him to see, feel and kiss my breasts. I lay back provocatively so that he could feast his eyes upon them, and I am glad that he did. He fondled my left breast with his right hand while licking, sucking and kissing the other. I sighed deeply, my whole body feeling more sexually alive than I could ever remember, with little inner shivers passing through me each time his hands or tongue touched me and I basked in every surge of arousal.
Why wasn't sex with Peter like this? Oh, God, I thought, who cares about Peter at a moment like this? I knew that if Duncan ask me to run away with him I would do it without a second thought regardless of the scandal.
We could wait no longer, both realizing the time had come to bare our bodies to each other. Standing up and pushing away from him for a moment, I did a little dance during which I wiggled my hips and my skirt fell to the floor at my ankles, sliding the slip down after it. He grinned. All I was wearing now was my panties. It didn't take me long to remove his shirt and jeans. His body was as beautiful, masculine, and strong as I had always imagined it in all my fantasies. He had these gorgeous arms and shoulders, and his chest was covered in the right places by the appropriate quantities of soft dark hair. I ran my fingers through the lush vegetation.
He had no underwear on, so when his jeans were gone he was completely naked, apart from a pair of white socks. Since I had married nearly ten years earlier the only aroused man I had seen naked was my husband, but I liked what I saw of this man, being unable to take my eyes off his penis, which was hard and standing to attention. I wanted it with all my being. It was every bit as beautiful as I remembered it from schooldays, and as I looked I absent-mindedly ran my fingers across my pussy, my spirit craving him with a passion I could no longer control. I might be another man's wife, but I was not going to deny myself the pleasure of becoming this man's sexual plaything.
He reached out and took me in his arms again, this time as we held one another it was flesh against flesh. I loved the way his chest hairs taunted the sensitivity of my nipples. He got especial pleasure from stroking my buns, running his hands down my hips and then back up between my thighs. Every now and again he would toy with the ribbons on each of my hips that held my undies in place and then think better of it.
Oh, God, deep inside I was screaming for him to take them off. He stroked the lace trim of the very expensive little fig-leaf of my panty, then trailed his fingers down my legs. I groaned and whimpered helplessly, totally under his spell. All I wanted was to surrender to Duncan's body, and the very thought led to the most exquisite shudder. Duncan, who was now rock hard was pressed against my tummy, amused and delighted by my obviously uncontrollable sexual needs. His organ tensed against me, and the more I felt him tensing, the more I wanted him. I felt empty and hungry… and needed filling.
He sat down on the sofa, his erection pointing straight upward, the mushroom head of his penis slightly blue and shiny. Way back in those high school days I had seen Duncan naked in the locker room several times, but never erect and hungry. Since then I had been on the receiving end of several male organs, but now that I could see him in all his glory I had no doubt that this was a particularly majestic specimen, every bit as beautiful as the one my Duncan fantasies had conjured up.
I leaned forward, kissing and licking it for a few moments, then he motioned and I settled onto his lap, my thighs outside his, his hardness pressing against my most feminine spot, further heightening my desire for him, although sexual contact was blocked by the gossamer soft fabric that separated my genitals from him. I knew my panties would not be there for much longer, and in anticipation of surrendering totally to him another sexual shudder shook me. Then I ran my fingers through his hair, kissing all over his face with a quickening intensity.
"Tell me what you want," I pleaded.
"Ellen, I want to make love to you," Duncan smiled. "I have wanted to make love to you since that moment I saw you and your husband walk into John and Joanna's wedding reception the other day."
I remembered that moment. My heart had missed a beat when I had seen him there and felt my whole body immediately craved him. "Me, too," I giggled nervously.
"I can't think why I never noticed you at school," he sighed, as I had told him when we had danced that evening that I had remembered him from that era of our lives.
I had shrugged, "Some women gain their allure later in life than others."
"If I were to invite you to my hotel next week, would you come?" he had asked as the dance was ending. I had nodded and he had said, "Lunchtime, the Embassy Suites, Room 220."
Now I was here kissing the tip of his nose. Then I slid off his lap and stood waiting for whatever he wanted to do next. I dared not tell him that I had lusted after him since long ago, rather than just last week. I dared not tell him that the idea of him making love to me had been one of the things to keep me going during the long barren chapter through which I had passed. I could not confess the countless times when my husband was making love to me and I had pretended it was him. Why had I married Peter, I sometimes asked myself, especially during those afternoons when I lay comfortably among the pillows on our bed pleasuring myself and thinking of Duncan.
Grabbing my hand he dragged me toward the bedroom, holding onto me as if frightened I would run away. How could I? I was nearly naked and his willing sexual slave. He released me beside the bed, then reached out and ripped my panties from my hips, tossing the remains of the ridiculous little garment across the room. I felt the hardness of his erection touch my stomach, heard an involuntary "Aaah" and then his arms were around me and he was nibbling the nape of my neck. I whimpered with delight.
"Oh, Lord," I prayed, "Forgive me, I am no longer responsible for my actions."
He then knelt before me, his lips concentrated on my most sensitive areas before kissing his way over my torso and back, fingers occasionally straying between my legs and touching my most private and feminine place – soft and bare, freshly shaved and waxed that very morning. I shivered in expectation then sat down on the edge of the bed. He knelt in front of me and started to stroke my nipples, each of which was taut, sensitive, and tender with excitement. I could see the extreme hardness of his cock, how it curved upward, how it jiggled slightly as he moved, and I lusted after it. I knew that in a very short time that lovely organ would be buried deep inside me, and I could hardly wait. I reached out and brushed against it with my fingers so that it tensed again. It felt so good.
He said nothing, but just by looking at his face and then down at his manliness I knew that what he wanted me to do was give pleasure to that hungry organ with my mouth. Thank God that he wanted me as passionately as I wanted him. I reached out and this time grasped his shaft, enjoying the velvety soft skin that packaged the hardness I held in my hand. He let out a long, deep sigh. As I held him I found irresistible the sensation of his potency and this cock's strength, texture, and unbridled masculinity.
He sat on the bed and I settled myself on the floor in front of him, as he moved his hips so that his cock was right in front of my face. My heart skipped a beat – I had never wanted to do oral stimulation as much as this. My hand slid from the shaft and caressed his balls, for a moment touching that sensitive skin behind them. He made a contented noise. Once comfortable I set about teasing him. I licked up and down the length of his cock, and teased the cock's sensitive skin with the tip of my tongue. He swept my long blonde hair up, and held it out of the way for me, watching intently what I was doing to him. His hands trembled slightly as I teased his cock, and every now and then he let out an involuntary groan.
Finally I took his organ, wrapping one hand around its base, and set about licking and sucking his balls. It was a delight to encounter such palpable masculinity at close quarters. I have always loved the way that males are so different from women, so alien, so utterly different and so impossibly desirable. One at a time I took his balls into my mouth, sucking them until he let out yet more moans. These weren't the first balls I had tasted, but undoubtedly they were the best.
My body was alert and awake to him now in so many assorted ways. I loved that aroma around his genitals that was arousing every one of my senses. His pubic hair was downy as it brushed against my face. I cupped his balls with my other hand, and took the tip of his cock in my mouth. I heard him groan very quietly, and then I allowed its length to slide little by little into my mouth and toward the back of my throat. As I moved my mouth over the shaft, I flicked the tip with my tongue. His hands pressed my head, urging me to move faster. I teased him by staying at the same pace, slowly sucking his cock, and very gently rubbing his balls. His hips were barely moving, but the pace was picking up.
I had long since lost count of the number of times I had done this in my fantasies, but now it was for real and I was determined to enjoy it. I didn't want him to cum too soon, so I teased his cock with my tongue knowing he was not too far from orgasm; then I stopped, squeezed the organ gently, got up and lay down on the bed, like Goya's nude. He stood and watched intently as I settled myself on my back among the pillows and when I was ready, I smiled, spread my legs, and reached up with both arms for him to come to me.
He climbed onto the bed and knelt in front of me allowing me once again to inspect his equipment. I then ran my hand over his chest, but he wasn't going to enter me quite yet. His cock was hard and masterful, and every now and then he would lean forward so it nudged my thigh, a reminder that in a few moments he would take what he wanted. He touched me all over, with feather-light fingers. His hands were calloused from manual work, yet very gentle against me. It felt as if a direct current was flowing from his fingers and into my womanhood. I felt myself tighten up as my attention was focused on that secret garden of delights between my legs that had been his for as long as I had had it, but of which he would soon take possession.
I sat up and pushed him onto his back, then leaned over and liberally soaked his cock with saliva. He then put his hands up to assist me, and I ended up straddling his crotch, his cock against my pussy. I leaned in to kiss him, while sliding up and down against his cock. I ran my hands over his back, and chest, enjoying the vigor of his muscles and the warmth of his skin. As he kissed me I reached with both hands to touch his face. I leaned back a few inches, and looked questioningly at him. He then gently rolled me over and straddled my body, kissing me softly while continuing to run his hands over me.
As he moved down my body, I grabbed a pillow to get comfy. He licked and sucked my breasts, applying more pressure with his lips and tongue. He licked one finger and slowly slid it down my tummy to my clit. He applied a small amount of pressure to the hood of my clit, just enough to make me catch my breath again. He continued sucking and stroking her. My hips bucked, I was close to exploding. As soon as I did that, he stopped stroking my clit, and shifted to fingering the edges of my labia. It was torture, to have an orgasm that close, and be forced to wait for it, quivering as I did so – but it was torture I loved.
He looked up at me, quietly smiled, knowing exactly what he had done. He understood female arousal almost too perfectly, which confirmed that I was one in a line of many, but I hardly cared because my childhood dream was coming true. He leaned in to my pussy, and gently flicked his tongue over the hood of my clit. Using his tongue, Duncan slowly outlined my labia. He quickly slid one finger inside me, I gasped, then he pulled it right out. I reached down to grab his hair and force him to lick me where I wanted. He licked my pussy and muttered, "Mmmm, you taste good."
Then he teased me with one finger, yet still didn't let me cum. I was panting with the need, and on the verge of screaming I wasn't sure what. I wanted sexual release so badly I could taste it. Since ordering him to let me cum hadn't worked, I just asked very nicely, "Please....LET me..." Duncan looked up at me and grinned. He moved up so his face was level with mine. He smelled like me, and when he kissed me, he also tasted like me. His face was damp, and it turned me on even more to smell myself on his lips. He shifted a bit, so that the tip of his hard cock was against my pussy. He looked deep into my eyes and asked "Are you ready?" I nodded emphatically. "Are you sure?"
I hollered at him, "YES, damn it, man, I am sure. For God's sake fuck me and fill me!"
Just as I finished this sentence he plunged his cock all the way into me. I felt it against me, and then just as quick he pulled back out. I flinched. For a second I had had exactly what I wanted, his cock deep inside me. In my mind a temporary lease of my being had passed from Duncan to Duncan. I was totally aroused, but having his cock in me for just that short time was sensual torture. He had his face in my shoulder, and I grabbed a handful of hair and yanked his face in front of mine.
"Oh, for God's sake, man, make love to me," I ordered him, "Or I will die of anticipation."
He smile, winked, then immediately obliged. Duncan leaned in over my body, kissing me as he did so, and then plunged his cock deep inside me. I was glad that I had made sure to lubricate well before leaving home! We fucked very slowly, enjoying the feel of each other's body and closeness. We kissed and caressed, matching our lips to our bodies. He knew how to take me to the edge and then back off so I didn't yet cum.
As I got closer to orgasm, I reached out and took hold of Duncan's tight muscular male ass, and it felt so good. I used my hands against his behind to suggest a slight quickening pace. He leaned back a bit, and this changed the pressure inside me so that I immediately began to feel myself losing control. I could hear myself gasping as the uncontrolled delight of arousal swept over me and the climax took hold, shaking my body like a stem of grass waving in the strong erotic breeze Duncan had created.
The passion withdrew like the tide, reorganized itself then began to sweep back in, this time ever so gently but with as much erotic power. My hips moved of their own accord, and I reached between our bodies to rub my clit and prolong the exquisite pleasure another few seconds. Duncan smiled down at me, and shifted slightly. He put his hands on either side of my head, and stretched back so we could both see down the length of our bodies to our crotches. We both watched for a few strokes as he fucked me so that the first gushing surge of his juices flooded into me.
I was in my thirties, was married, and a stepmother, and had now fulfilled the ambition of half a lifetime in going to bed with him. Never again would I be on the receiving end of sex like this. Peter would obviously continue to be my husband, but the truth was now I had experience Duncan he would only ever be borrowing me from this man who I had known for so long and who now owned my body, and it was his seed that was dribbling out of my pussy. I just wished he could make me pregnant.
Duncan slid his body against mine, and rolled us both over. We stayed engaged, and I settled myself in on top of him. He slid his arms under my legs, to give me some support while I moved on his cock. I leaned back and could feel his cock inside me. He supported my weight and I set the pace for our movement. This time I was in control – and enjoyed watching his face. His eyes were closed and he was completely caught up in the moment. I flattened my body against his, pressing my breasts against his hairy chest, and then we rolled so that Duncan was on top again. He caught me by surprise again with a few fast and deep strokes of his cock in my pussy. I wrapped my legs around him, and held his ass with one hand. I reached between us to rub my clit, and he fucked me hard, bringing me to the point of orgasm then holding me there until he was ready to cum again.
He watched me carefully, both enjoying my pleasure and gauging it, allowing me to advance to ward orgasm, then stopping so that I slipped back a little within the context of an on-going erotic ratcheting up. When I finally started cumming he plunged all the way into me, and held still pressing hard against my pelvis. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me while I had the most mind-blowing orgasm ever underneath him, around his cock.
Then, as my orgasm wound down and I clung to him like a child, he started thrusting towards his. He groaned quietly and I felt his body stiffen. I wanted him to fill me again with all his love juices. I nibbled his ear and whispered, "I wish I could have your baby," I whispered.
Then as his sounds and thrusting became more urgent the climax took hold of me again, and my clit seemed to be burning and alive. A moment later we both came together, loudly on my part screaming and whimpering, quietly on his, and then there was this delicious sensation of more of his plentiful juices dribbling out and down my crack.
We lay quietly for a few minutes, bodies tangled and sticky. I rubbed Duncan's back and enjoyed the closeness. Now it was time to talk, to catch up on things. He had every right to know that the woman he had just satisfied had fallen in love with him when we were teenagers at school. I had been afraid that he might have married and become a faithful family man during the intervening years – but my heart had stopped for a moment when I had walked into that party and there was Duncan, and I knew we would finally have each other.
He had a right to know that I had always loved him, but I decided against telling him I at that time I had been that scrawny little boy who he and his friends merely tolerated – and kid who loved Barbies more than baseball, skirts to shirts, and knew with every ounce of his being that he had. I was so grateful that dream had become a reality, and now I was thankful that this fantasy had been given flesh and blood. It was Ellen Jane Davidson who had made love to him that day, but the fantasy had begun when I was Eric James Zaniski.
Duncan and I made love twice more before I needed to shower, dress, and leave. I felt utterly sluttish as I drove home panty-less, his strong male juices dribbling out onto the leather seat as I maneuvered through the evening traffic. I felt more womanly than I had ever felt in my whole life.
I was never to be fucked by Duncan again, but I knew as I walked out of his hotel suite that afternoon that I would never be the same woman again. When Peter came home at the end of the day he absent-mindedly kissed me and asked if anything special had happened. I smiled inwardly, shrugged, and said nonchalantly, "Not really," but to myself I said, 'Although I suppose it depends what you mean by special."
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