I hadn’t been at the Barton Hotel long when one night a couple registered. He was young, handsome, well-built, neat, the all-male figure. His wife, who was in a wheel chair, was very pretty, and I imagine, at one time a beauty queen somewhere.
They were frequent visitors to the hotel, coming from upstate each year to shop, see the shows, and allow the wife to undergo medical checkups at one of the big hospitals. She had been in a serious automobile wreck a few years back and her spine had been severely damaged. I learned from the hotel gossip that there was practically no hope she would ever walk again, but she had faith, and kept coming back to see the doctors, always getting the same saddening prognosis each year.
From what I gathered, her husband had been driving the car when they had the wreck. They had been at a party and he had had a few too many drinks. His wife, as well as the other guests, tried to talk him out of driving home, but he insisted. On the way, he ran through a barrier and into a ravine. The car rolled, but he was thrown free, while his wife was trapped in the almost completely crushed vehicle.
Rumor also had it that he thought he was God’s gift to womanhood, and tried to put the make on every girl he met. Gossip was that his wife could no longer have sexual relations and the only reason her husband stayed with her, and falsely played the doting mate, was because of the money her parents had left her when they died.
Part of the gossip proved true the evening they checked in. I was working the desk and as the man registered, he went out of his way to touch my hand, to talk, and to flash his most winning smile at me. I was courteous, but kept my distance. My sympathy was with his wife, and he certainly did nothing to arouse my emotions; although he tried.
One afternoon, late, the husband entered the lobby alone. Seeing that I was at the desk, he made a beeline in my direction.
“Good afternoon, Miss Logan, and how are you?”
“Just fine, Mr. James, thank you. Would you like your key?”
“Yes, please. By the way, my wife checked into the hospital this afternoon and will be there for the next two days. I have a lot of time on my hands, so why don’t the two of us have a drink and talk awhile?”
Here it comes. The wife’s away, so now the rat’s going to play.
“I’m sorry, Mr. James, but I’m working.”
“You don’t work all the time. When do you finish here?”
“At eight, but…" “Good. I’ll meet you then. We can go to the bar, or… to my room. I have a bottle up there.”
His hand covered mine, but I slowly pulled mine away.
“I’m sorry, Mr. James, but…“
“See you at eight, Miss Logan.”
Without waiting for any further comment, he took his key and walked toward the elevator. I’ll be damned if he’s going to get me in his bed. Yet, maybe he will. Maybe… he…will.
Mr. James was punctual; he was standing at the desk at eight o’clock as I did my final check out.
“Miss Logan, why don’t we go to the bar and have a drink or two, and something to eat. We’ll see what develops from there.”
That cocky grin was on his face, but I had decided to play along with his game for a while. We had a couple of drinks and a light snack. We danced, talked, and got on a first-name basis. His was Ben.
He never mentioned his wife all the time we were together. He was a good conversationalist and capable of continually talking without once mentioning his wife, or the fact that he was even married. By eleven o’clock, he was ready to make his move.
“Chris, let’s go to my room. I have a bottle of the best whisky money can buy.
We can talk and then…”
He had his arm across my chair and his hand was on my back. His fingers played with the hook of my bra and lust was very evident in his eyes. I played it coy, hesitating at first. I wanted him to think he had conned me to his room through his wily maneuvers and slick talk.
We no sooner entered his room than he pulled me to his arms. When he attempted to kiss me, I gently pushed him away.
Smiling wistfully, I said, “I thought we came up here for drinks and talk.”
He returned the smile and headed for the closet. Pulling out a bottle, he took two glasses from the bathroom, filled them with ice, and poured the brown liquid.
I sat in the chair by the desk, which left the only other chair, situated on the opposite side of the room, for him. I had planned it that way. He was facing me and I kept crossing and uncrossing my legs, giving him a fleeting glimpse of my thighs. The blouse I wore was a silky one, and rather tight. It looked as if my breasts were trying to break through the thin material.
Ben never missed a glance when I crossed my legs. When he wasn’t looking there, his eyes were on my breasts. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be leaving his chair and heading in my direction. I wasn’t wrong.
Ben came over and bent down on one knee beside me. This time, when he kissed me, I didn’t push him off. His hand unbuttoned my blouse and expertly massaged my breasts. He tweaked the nipples and kissed the exposed flesh of my mounds.
While doing this, his other hand was playing with my legs, slowly moving up my thighs, toward his destination. When I didn’t rebel, he pulled me from the chair and undressed me. When I was completely nude, he undressed. His cock, not bad in size, was already starting its erection, anxious to get on with it.
“Ben, before we start, I have to tell you that I’m a woman who has to be played with before she has sex. It’s even better when I’ve had a climax or two before you start. But, I promise, if you do that for me, I’ll show you a hell of a good time in bed.”
His eyes were first on my large tits and erect nipples, then shifted to my cuntmound. I had him in my power. He would do anything I asked.
“No objection on my part,” he said, his words slurred with lust.
He steered me to the bed and began kissing and sucking my breasts and rubbing between my legs. My cunt was getting moist from his play as he continued rubbing the lips, the clitoris, and the mound of hair. My hips began moving, responding to his play, and he pushed his finger into my pussy as far as it would go.
As he thrusted, I raised my hips to meet him. I held his head to my breasts, wanting him to continue to suck and bite while he fingered me. He moved his hand slow, allowing me to enjoy his action. He had long fingers, and this made it feel even better.
Ben fingered me for several minutes, until I was moving faster, then increased the speed of his thrusts. I crossed my legs, but still gave him room to operate. He increased his finger motion even faster and I was humping wildly. I pulled his face into my breasts so hard that I could hear him having difficulty breathing. My concern, however, was in coming, not his breathing, and I held him tightly and gyrated against his finger.
When I opened up my box, Ben pushed his finger in as far as he could and rotated it, making me unload all my fluid. Even after I had finished, he left his finger there, still moving it slowly.
He had done a good job. I would reward him now, but only to a degree. Ben was lying beside me, on his back, with one hand rubbing my breasts and playing with the nipples. I reached down and took his tool in my hand and gently stroked it.
I played with his balls, pulled the skin back on his prick and teased the sensitive head. He reveled in my touches. When I squeezed his balls, he returned the gesture by cupping my breasts.
“Ben,” I said, breaking the silence. “I’m ready to come again.”
He started to climb on top of me, anxious to put his throbbing pole in my juicy box. But I held him off.
“No, not yet. I need to come one more time, at least.”
He looked at me, desire on his face, but realized he would have to do as I asked before he could hop into the saddle. Too, he wanted a good lay and would do anything to get it.
“Do you want me to finger you again?”
“No,” I said, demurely, lingering on the word.
“Then how?” he asked, perplexed.
"Would… would you, would you eat me?” I tried to give the impression that it hurt that I had to ask him to do such a thing, when it really didn’t bother me in the least.
Ben smiled, and without saying a word, went right to work. He kissed my cunt lips and ran his tongue over the rim. He put one hand under my buttocks and played with my anus, while rubbing my hairy mound with the other. He was good, there was no doubt about it. His play set me on fire and made me want to rub my pussy in his face as hard as I could. I lay back, however, savoring the treat, holding off from coming as long as I could.
Ben pushed his tongue inside my cunt and lapped at the walls. He took the lips into his mouth and gently nibbled at them. I was in such a state that I couldn’t keep my hands off my tits. I was cupping, massaging, and pinching the nipples until they hurt. I was in a frenzy. My body was moving helter skelter.
I was on fire and knew I couldn’t keep from coming much longer.
When Ben shoved his tongue into my hole again, I wrapped my legs around his head, preventing him from pulling away. He kept his tongue inside, touching my walls and driving me insane. When my fluid coated his tongue, he lapped at it hungrily, avidly, tickling my insides and making me shoot off repeatedly, until I was completely empty.
When I finished, I kept my legs around his head, although he had removed his tongue. I slowly moved my body so my cunt would rub against his face. It still felt good, although I knew I couldn’t come again right away.
When I finally released Ben, he stood up and cleaned his mouth. His cock was ramrod stiff and moist on the end. I knew he wanted to fuck me so bad he could hardly stand it. He was looking at my moist, red cunt with a desire I have seen in few other men. When he moved toward me, with his prick aimed at my hole, I shifted slightly.
“Not yet, Ben, please. Let me rest for a minute or two. You really did me in.”
A smile of self-satisfaction came across his face. “You liked that, huh? Good.
But hurry up, baby, I need some loving.”
He lay beside me on the bed and took me in his arms. I started to put, my hand on his throbbing cock, but decided against it. He kissed me and massaged my breasts and rubbed my mound. He was getting hornier and hornier, and I knew I had to do something soon. I held off responding as long as I could, waiting for his desire to ebb some. And it did. Soon, I felt his rock-hard cock begin to go limp. I waited a few minutes longer and then went into action.
“Okay, Ben, I’m ready.”
He rolled me over on my back and started to climb into the saddle.
“No, Ben, let me treat you, like you’ve done to me. Remember, I promised that if you showed me a good time, I’d return the favor.”
I pushed him onto his back. He closed his eyes and relaxed. I toyed with his prick and balls, pulling the skin back, teasing the tip. Then I bent over and kissed the head, and ran my tongue along the ridge. I heard him moan as he put his hand on my head. I smiled inwardly.
Ben moved his hand to my buttocks and played with my anus and cunt. He rubbed the lips and since I was still wet, it felt good. In the meantime, I was biting into his cock, kissing his balls, taking them in my mouth, and doing everything I could to drive him wild.
A torrent of groans flowed from Ben’s throat. I put my lips alongside his hard cock and ran them up and down the shaft. Then, putting his meat in my mouth, I went down as far as I could and sucked hard as I lifted my head. He raised his hips to follow. At the same time, his finger was in my hole, feverishly rubbing the walls and moving in and out. I realized I could come again any moment, and lifted my head from his throbbing cock.
Ben continued to finger fuck me as fast as he could, and it wasn’t long before I shot my wad again. I continued to work on him, teasing the head of his cock, playing with his balls, slipping my mouth over the shaft. He was moving more now, and the moans were becoming louder and more frequent.
I quit sucking and asked if he was about ready to come.
“Yes. Yes. Baby, don’t stop now. Suck. Suck harder.” He was nearly hysterical.
When he said that, I jumped off the bed and hurriedly put on my skirt and blouse, not bothering with the panties and bra. Ben was so emotionally aroused that he didn’t realize what was happening, which gave me just enough time to slip my clothes on. When he finally opened his eyes and saw me dressed, a look of amazement came over his face.
"What… what in the hell are you doing?” he asked, frustrated, as his hand went to his hard, aching cock.
“I’m going home, Ben. Thanks for the good time.”
“What do you mean, going home. You can’t leave me like this.”
“Well, I am leaving you like this.”
“You bitch,” he almost shouted. “You lousy bitch.”
“And you’re a bastard,” I vehemently replied. “I don’t mind going to bed with a married man, but I’ll be damned if I’ll satisfy any son-of-a-bitch who cripples a woman and then tries to fuck every other woman around. Under different circumstances, I’d stay with you all night, but not when your wife doesn’t have an opportunity to fight back.”
“Chris, please,” he begged, “come back. Finish what you started.” His voice was pitiful, but it didn’t touch my heart.
“What am I supposed to do now,” he continued, a pathetic look on his face, and his hand stroking his pulsating prick.
“Jack off, you bastard, let mother thumb and her four daughters take my place-if they can.”
“By the way, Ben, you really know how to eat pussy. Ummmm. So long, Have fun.”
I was laughing out loud as I left his room. I could just imagine him in there pounding away at his meat, doing anything he could to get satisfaction.
One thing for certain, from the state I had left him in, be had to do something.