Daddy's Office

Next part: Pt. 2 | More works by Sir_Galois

“I hope you enjoy your stay with us, Mr. Sutton,” the woman behind the London hotel desk smiled at me. She spoke with a fitting, posh English accent.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I will,” I smiled back, allowing myself to check her out a moment. I think she was about 40 years old, not that it was easy to tell with her makeup and smooth, pale skin. Her fiery, wavy red hair fell past her shoulders, to her plunging neckline, to her big, proud breasts. I was worried I was being too obvious, but I saw her big blue eyes smiling at me. I didn’t think she minded. That easy smile on her as she watched me studying her. Those dimples.

“If there’s anything I can do to make your stay more pleasurable, please do let me know.” She was almost certainly flirting with me, but it can be hard to tell. Plus I was exhausted. So I nodded sheepishly and took my bags up to my room.

The moment the hotel room door closed behind me, I let my bags fall to the floor. I draped my suit jacket over the couch en route to the bed and did a trust-fall backwards into the embrace of the luxury bedding on the king mattress. I undid my necktie and unbuttoned the top three buttons of my shirt before halting. It feels so good to surrender sometimes.

Between the redeye to London flight and the all-day negotiation, I was wiped. Fortunately it was going well—we had more to hash out, but our counterparties had caved on major points for us. This would close soon.

The hotel was nice, too. Good bed, marble bathroom with a soaking tub, floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the nearby park. It was an old hotel, but I much preferred the classic architecture vibe to some business district glass tower above the Thames. The sun was just about down setting. I’d stay up a bit longer to avoid a late-night, jet lagged wake-up.

Or so I told myself. The next thing I knew, I was groggily opening my eyes to a night-darkened room and the sound of . . . God help me, shrieking.

“Baby!” A female voice cried through the wall. That was the problem with these old hotels: Even when they had modern renovations, they rarely did anything to dampen sound between rooms. So now I’d listen to some woman’s nighttime hysterics.

“Great,” I muttered as I wrapped a pillow around my ears.

“Baby, baby, yes!” The voice yelled again. An American accent. And now a clapping sound. Followed by an unintelligible, lower-pitched voice. My brain was waking up—this didn’t sound like a phone call or idle chatter.

“Oh, fuck, smash that pussy!” The voice moaned. Now I got it: some chick was getting fucked. “Ugh, I love iiit!” The voice was high and clear. She sounded like a porn star who might actually be getting off—for real—in a scene she’s shooting. And I have a weakness for a woman who’s vocalizing her love of how she’s getting dicked down.

Between the sex noises and having just awoken, I was rock-hard. My length was straining uncomfortably in the suit trousers I hadn’t taken off. I undid my belt and pushed down the trousers. My hand dashed into the waistband of my boxer-briefs and gripped my thickness. Even in my big hands, my girth was a handful. And I could feel I was already dripping preejaculate.

“Harder!” She begged through the wall. I started stroking my fist down my dick. ”Harder, baby. Fucking use this pussy!” The fleshy smacking sounds got louder. “Yeeesss, pump me deeeeep!” She whined in ecstasy.

My mind sketched her up as I stroked my precum-slicked dick. TikTok gym girl: long hair, slim waist, bubble butt jiggling as she got it clapped by this lucky guy’s pelvis. Sleep in my brain made the images extra vivid.

“You like it rough, bitch,” I grunted to myself as I worked my dick, imagining I was the guy bending over this hot little firecracker. I kept my voice low—if I could hear her, then at some volumes she’d be able to hear me. And I didn’t exactly want her to know she had a neighbor perving out.

“Treat me like a slut, baby!” She called out to her lover. “C’mon! Leave me sore! Treat me like a little slut!” I hoped this guy knew how lucky he was to get a girl who begged for it all nasty like that.

“Nooo, not yet! Keep fucking me!” She complained. “I’m so close, I’m so close. Hold it back and then give me your load.” Her guy must’ve been on the bring of cumming too quickly for her tastes. Not that I can blame him with a woman who sounded so sexy. The flesh-slapping sounds ceased. But I kept going.

“Daddy’s going to make sure you cum like a whore before he gives you this nut,” I muttered as I masturbated. I always took a while to cum. I often felt self-conscious about that, but most women I’d been with would wax poetic about my staying power. (One had complained. “I can’t get pounded by something that big for so long,” she’d griped one night. She had me finish up by jerking off on her tits while she rubbed her pussy. Which was hot in its own right.)

“Fine, just finger me then,” the woman demanded. I was only getting one side of the conversation, but she sounded disappointed. “Finger me harder! Harder!” She barked, her volume ramping back up. “Yes, baby, make me drench the sheets! Put it in my mou—rm glrg glrghh. Ah, fuck yes, make me taste my pussy!” I imagined her laid out on her back, perky tits pointed at the ceiling as this dude fucked her face. “Glrgh rngh!”She was glugging like a throat goat loudly enough that I heard her through the wall. That was fucking hot.

“You like tasting your wrecked whore cunt, slut?” I sneered, feeling my own orgasm approaching. “Yeah, let Daddy own that throat like he owns your pussy. Fuck.” Would this be the rare quickie for me? “You want it down your throat? Want Daddy spraying straight into your tummy?” My own dirty talk was getting me closer.

She was moaning again. “Oh, I’m gonna, I’m gonna—no, why’d you—ew, Jack!” Moans had once again turned to complaints.

And now I was curious. The sudden gripes staunched my orgasm.

“It’s all over my face. You came so much.” She sounded legitimately surprised. “You love my mouth and pussy, don’t you?” Her voice drifted back to a sexy lilt.

“Your holes deserve every fucking drop,” I said to myself, accelerating my masturbating. I was throbbing. She sounded so hot. I imagined her, face dripping with spunk, spreading her legs wide so I could enjoy her pussy to completion.

“Yes, I want you to keep fingering me, Jack!” She yelped like it was obvious. “I was so close.” Then a pause. “No, baby. Come on!” Another pause. “Don’t you want to see me cum with your cum all over my face?” Another pause. “Fine! Then I’ll do it myself.” Whatever this Jack character had going for him, it must not have included making sure a woman got hers once he got his. That poor girl.

“Fuck, I’m so wet. Do you hear how gushy my pussy is?” She moaned. That got me back to stroking my dick. I felt a big glob of precum leak out.

“Yeah,” I said back, surely too quietly to be heard. “I can feel it, too. Can feel that cunt getting juicier on my cock. Fucking take it, bitch. Take Daddy’s dick. Be a good cumdump and let me spunk you deep.”

“Oooh I'm a cum covered whore!” She wailed. “Fuck! Fuck! I want more. More cum. Spurt it inside me. Oh! Fuck! I’m cumming!”

I squeezed my cock in my pistoning fist, trying to mimic the feel of an orgasmic, clasping pussy. “Gonna breed you good, baby. Fuck yes. Nasty whores deserve multiple loads.” I was so close!

“I know you’re not going to cum again, Jack,” she sniped, clearly responding to something her lover had just said. “It was just dirty talk. And why can’t you keep fingering me just because you’re done?” Then another pause. “Oh my god, fine! At least bring me a towel and some water.”

I rolled my eyes. Whatever was going on over there, I needed to get mine. “You want it, slut?” I snarled. “Want me to creampie that pretty pussy? Fuck yeah, take this fucking load nice and deep!” I got louder as I felt my spunk rocket up through my cock. “Fuck!” I grunted I came. I imagined pressing deliciously into her gym bunny cervix as I flooded her. A rope of semen lashed across my chest, hitting the exposed skin exposed by my partially unbuttoned shirt. Another landed on my lower chest and stomach. And another. And another. I angled my cock as it continued to push out its climax.

When I finished shooting, I was sweaty and annoyed with myself. In my haste to cum to the sounds of the sexy girl next door, I hadn’t grabbed anything for cleanup. Now I was soaked in my own semen. But at least I’d kept the mess to my shirt. Getting cum out of cotton was far easier than getting it out of tailored woolen suit trousers.

I unbuttoned my shirt the rest of the way and took it off. I used it to mop up the mess I’d made and tossed it, crumpled, to the floor. As I fell back asleep, I amused myself with the thought of billing hotel dry cleaning as a business travel expense.

* * * * *

When I woke next I was just in my boxer briefs on top of the bed covers. Sunlight was hitting my face and diagnaling across my bare torso. It must have been early still. That’s what I get for not closing the curtains.

I looked at my phone. 6:41. At least that was convenient. I dismissed the phone’s notification for the 6:55 alarm and picked myself off the bed. My suit trousers were on the carpeted hotel floor, along with the crumpled wad that was my soiled dress shirt. The night came back to me. I chuckled as I recalled the fun I’d had listening to my neighbors. I twisted my torso from side to side, stretching my muscles. My cock was straining with morning wood. I was still horny thinking about what I had overheard, but I didn’t want to spend the time getting off again. I went to pee, which mostly took care of the erection. Enough that I could slip on the swim trunks I brought with me without feeling like I was showing off my size to whoever might see me in the hotel halls. I may be a kinky pervert, but I’m not a jerk.

I kicked my feet into the white slippers the hotel had provided—“one size fits all,” so small for me, but serviceable—and made my way out of my room and towards the swimming pool. When I got there, a pleasant desk attendant handed me a towel and said to let him know if I needed anything. Unlike with the redheaded check-in woman, I didn’t linger with him.

I set my towel down on a poolside chair along with my t-shirt and kicked off the slippers. I jumped right into the water. Invigorating cold overwhelmed me. It wasn’t comfortable, but the discomfort made me feel awake. And soon it didn’t feel cold at all. I began to swim my laps. Water and exertion carried me to the realm of the living.

While I had been the only person at the pool when I arrived, I noticed , after maybe fifteen minutes of swim time, that I was no longer alone. On the lip of the pool, her feet dangling into the water, sat a woman in a black one-piece. She had long, dark hair and definitely would be categorized as “thick”: full, high C-cup breasts, a strong-looking waist, and full, plush thighs that I immediately wanted to sink my teeth into. Her oval face had a classic beauty to it, like a Victorian portrait redone for the Instagram age.

When she turned to the side to go down the pool ladder, my cock throbbed: She had a huge, bubbly, juicy ass! It leapt out from her waist , like two half beach balls that jiggled with her movements. That bathing suit was clearly not designed for a body like hers. It cut into her ass cheeks, threatening to become a thong on her.

She looked at me over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed and she grinned. I smiled back, a bit embarrassed to have been caught checking her out when we were the only ones here. So I turned and resumed swimming laps.

When I made it to the lip of the pool, she was again sitting with her feet in the water. Except now she was looking right at me. “How are you swimming in this?” She asked with a clear American accent. “It’s so cold!”

I smiled back. “It’s nice once you’re in.”

“If I go in, my nipples are going to tear through my bathing suit.” She looked halfway between concerned and knowingly teasing.

“Good thing no one is here then,” I quipped.

“Um, you’re here,” she grinned, tipping her head slightly to the side. Her brown eyes twinkled playfulness.

“In water-space, no one can see your nips,” I rasped.

“Yeah, Mr. Swimmer?” She asked. “Or do you just want a peak?”

I shrugged. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Scout’s honor.” As I said this, I raised an arm out of the water and, with my palm turned towards her, crossed my middle finger behind my index finger.

“Ha ha,” she intoned, still smiling. “Very funny, Mr. Swimmer.”

“It’s Mr. Sutton, actually,” I retorted.

“I prefer Mr. Swimmer. You swim well.”

“I do have the arms for it.”

“Yes. Very . . . long.”

“And a man must make good use of his length.” The words rushed from mouth before I could think. My face dropped. That felt like I had gone too far, too quickly.

But she was still smiling. “Good length gets the job done right.” Fuck, she sounded sexy. And now she was biting her lower lip.

I hoisted myself out of the pool, hopping to my feet so I stood over her. She was looking up at me. Her eyes passed over my bulge. I wasn’t hard, but the wet fabric cradled it obviously.

I leaned slightly at the waist and extended my right arm. “David,” I said, introducing myself.

She took my hand in hers. “Ellen,” she replied, gripping my fingers gently. Her skin felt lovely. I didn’t want to take my hand back ,but I didn’t want to be a weirdo, so I did.

“What brings you to London, Ellen?” I asked.

“My boyfriend.” She was still smiling at me. I hoped I wasn’t wearing my disappointment on my face.

“Oh? Are you two long distance?” A boyfriend! Dammit.

“No. Long distance? Ew. That wouldn’t work for me.” She shook her head. “No, he has some work thing here. I I came along to have a good time. Remote work makes that easy.”

“That’s nice,” I managed to say. Yeah, sure. A nice time for him, maybe. Her ass was splatting invitingly on the surfacing under her. Lucky bastard. He had this big-assed cutie flying out to share a hotel bed with him. Some of us had to make do with our hands, buddy!

“It was supposed to be. He woke me up early—he cannot get up quietly to save his balls—and started saying ‘Fuck! Fuck!’ I was sleeping.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re up at this ungodly hour.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “and I know he’s stressed, you know? It’s some big project here or something. I get it. I know what work pressures are like. But, dude, come on.”

“I’d be pissed.”

“Oh, I am. But I tried to be nice. ‘Aw, baby, what is it?’ I tried to sound really sweet, you know? But he just kept whining about having to wake up for the meeting with the team back in Boston. And you know what? He’d known about this stupid Zoom meeting since before we got on the plane. It wasn’t new!” 

I nodded. “Selfish guy.”

“Yeah! So he’s stressed, and I’m always horny in the mornings. So I told him I could suck his dick so he would feel good in time for the meeting. I’m really good at blowjobs.” She offered casually.

I clamped my mouth shut. I didn’t want to say something too stupid in response, but I had no idea what to say. Because, well, what does a man say when a cute girl he just met in a hotel casually offers that she was trying to suck some dick a little while ago and that she’s good at it?

“He, uh, didn’t take you up on that?” I asked. Apparently that’s what this man says to that.

“No, he said said he was too busy. ‘Too busy, babe.’ That’s literally all he said! Then he put on his clothes and left. Just like that! He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t, like, apologize for waking me up. He didn’t give me a kiss good morning or tell me he was, like, happy I was there with him. He just LEFT!”

“Dick move.” Yes, I actually said that.

“Right? So then I was, like, fine, I’m pissed off, but I can have some fun myself and fall back asleep. So I reach for my vibrator, and guess what? The battery is dead. Dead! So then I’m angry and double-frustrated. And now I’m here, because I couldn’t fall back asleep in that mood without cumming or doing something else.” She looked truly upset. I couldn’t tell if she was flirting with me by sharing all these details or genuinely complaining to complain. As if it were normal to tell a stranger that you had a boyfriend who didn’t let you suck him off and to add that you couldn’t even use your sex toy to take care of yourself.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’d offer you my vibrator,” I started, “but I think left it in my other bathing suit.”

Her angry face shifted to amusement. “Yeah? What kind of vibrator is it?”

“Uh, a Lelo,” I said.

“A Lelo!” She was excited, almost childlike. “Mine is a Lelo. Hm,” she kept going, “I bet it’s charged by now.” She stood up, coming about up to my chest. She must’ve been 5’5” or so. Her thighs jiggled far less than one would expect given their eye-drawing thickness. She must work out quite a bit, I thought.

“So no need to stay at the pool,” I offered.

“I’m on vacation. Why would I start the day by freezing my ass off in the water when I could start the day by cumming?”

“You know, when you put it like that, it’s a pretty strong argument.” I was pretty sure that this was flirting. She’d basically just told me she was leaving to masturbate. But her tone confused me. She sounded so blasé about it. She started walking out, her back and juicy rump now fully towards me. Smooth, rounded cheeks barely contained by her swimsuit.

She looked back over her shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you later, Mr. David Sutton.” Her eyes narrowed and her lips grinned. OK, now this was flirting. And my dick had noticed. It throbbed.

“Please,” I said,” That’s ‘Sir Dr. David Sutton, PhD.’” I was glad I found the words.

“Mhm. Yes, sir.” She replied sexily as she left.

Well, fuck. There’s my morning wood again. I grabbed my things and jetted back to my room, stripped off, and got in the rainfall standing shower. As warm water streamed down my back, I admired my tall, post-swim-toned body in the mirror across from the shower stall. Fuck, I bet Ellen was looking at me. I’m a good looking guy, and I’ve got a good looking cock. Circumcised, long, and thick.

Long enough to get the job done for Ellen, I thought to myself. I lathered up with the L’Occitane shower gel the hotel had provided and began to stroke my dick. “Fuck,” I grunted. I imagined that big ass of hers. That sweet bounce when she walked away. Even sexier to me than the imagined gym bunny next door. “Fuck,” I moaned again as I jerked myself. I imagined her bending over and spreading her cheeks. Pulling that bathing suit to the side for me. Exposing her pussy and her little puckered asshole. God damn, that was a nice picture to beat my meat to. I’d drop to my knees, palms pulling her ass apart, and lick right on up from her clit to her asshole. Make her moan like a dirty bitch.

I’d ask her, ‘You like that?’ She’d moan and agree. And I’d lick her little backdoor again. And I’d make her talk more. ‘You like what? Tell me.’ And she’d be a good girl. ‘Oh, I like it when you lick me there.’ ‘Where,’ I’d say, slapping her big ass. ‘My ass, fuck, please lick my ass!’ She’d beg. I bet she’d sound so good begging.

What if she got with the girl I heard through the wall last night? Fuck, that was a nice thought. “Suck these balls while she sucks my dick,” I said into the shower water. “Yeah, work for my load, girls.” They’d suck me good. Like good little whores.

‘Yes, Daddy,’ the girl from last night would say. In my mind’s eye, Ellen was sucking my dick, doing a good glug glug glug in her throat, just like my next door neighbor had on her own guy. Meanwhile, last night girl would slobber on my balls.

God damn. Fuck. This felt great.

“Coating both your faces, sluts,” I announced. “Yeah, take this load. Fucking lick it off each other.” And I shot. Pearly ropes of my balljuice splattered the glass wall of the shower stall. I was staying horny as I came, and I was picturing more filth. Ellen fucking her own face down my spewing dick, aiming it at her slutty face, aiming it at the other girl. Drenching each other in me. Fuck, I was really decorating the glass. ‘Mmm, give me more of Daddy’s cum,’ Ellen would say, running her tongue up Last Night Girl’s cheek before licking it into her new slutty friend’s mouth. Last Night Girl would grab Ellen’s thick, fat ass and pull her into her, nastily swapping the jizz they’d got me to spunk all over them.

I stumbled back against the tiled shower wall. “Fuck,” I happily sighed. My balls already ached. I had busted pretty hard last night, and this last load felt even bigger. Phew.

I gave myself a minute before turning off the water and toweling off. I grabbed another towel to wipe my semen off the shower glass. That would be a rude thing to leave for the cleaning staff.

I got dressed to head to the London office. With well-drained balls, I figured I might as well get there early and get organized.

Before I did, I put my cum-stained dress shirt from the night before in one of the laundry bags that had been provided in the room.

* * * * *

I got back from work in the early evening and headed upstairs to change out of my suit and into more casual clothes. I wanted to try this restaurant and cocktail bar one of my colleagues had recommended, and a suit seemed out of place in the trendy neighborhood I was headed to.

But as I was changing, I heard fighting through the wall. “I said we can’t tonight, ok?” A man’s voice barked.

“We can just go later!” A voice called back. Wait, I thought.

“I’ll be too tired. I’ll just want room service. Go without me if you want.”

“Fine, I will! Thanks for trying to get away from work for me.” She sounded pissed off and sarcastic. “This is exactly what I wanted.”

But that voice! That was Ellen. Right? I was like 80% sure.

I heard a heavy door slam. Had I been wearing a shirt, I would’ve poked my head into the hall to see if I could catch a glimpse of the woman from next door. Instead, I looked through the peephole in the door. But I didn’t see anyone go by.

* * * * *

I got back later that night, around 10:30 or so. The restaurant had been fine, but my brain had stayed embarrassingly fixated on whether the sexy woman I’d met in the pool was the howling slut I’d heard get railed last night. I decided I should get into bed and lose myself in a book. Fortunately, I had brought a copy of Demon Copperhead with me.

I’d been reading for a while, but, much to my voyeuristic chagrin, I didn’t hear anything fun through the wall. I fell asleep.

But, when I woke up the next morning, I got an earful.

“Oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” The woman next door cried. It was like a fucking invitation, so I started stroking my morning wood.

“Ride me awake, slut. Yeah, good girl.” I said dirtily. “Cream my prick you sexy slut. Love how those tits bounce.” In my mind, I was grabbing Ellen’s thick thighs and reaching behind to grope her fat ass while she bounced up and down my dick.

“Fuck yes! I love it!” It had to be Ellen. It just did.

“Be Daddy’s squirter as I breed you,” I encouraged, urging on my imagined lover. “Want to feel you cum like a bitch when I blow my load up you.”

If we’d been fucking for real—and not just in my brain as I masturbated—I would’ve smacked Ellen’s ass hard. To make her feel like an owned plaything.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Cried the voice next door. Sure, I’ll take that as imagined squirting. I loved a woman’s orgasm, squirting or otherwise. Seeing a woman overwhelmed with the pleasure you inflict on her. It’s profoundly sexy.

I kept stroking, hoping to hear more, but I got nothing. Instead, I imagined Ellen bending over for a rough doggy-style fuck. I was grabbing her hips, pulling her back into me, as I slammed my dick up her cunt.

 ‘Don’t pull out, I’m squirting, I’m squirting on your cock!’ I imagined her saying.

It wasn’t long before I was cumming. I imagined her saying, ‘Oh, fuck, it’s so warm! Spray it all in me. Get my slutty cunt pregnant!’ In my mind, as I shot off, I did exactly that. Pumped her hard. Harder and harder as I doused her cervix in spunk, really hammering it home.

“Tell your shit boyfriend it’s his kid,” I murmured as I flooded her imaginary tubes with my swimmers. “We’ll both know you’re my owned bitch. You get bred with my babies.”

‘Yes, Daddy, own my womb!’ She’d say back, looking over her shoulder and sticking her tongue out for me to spit in her mouth. So I could soil that, too, as my DNA placed a nine-month claim on her uterus.

Another awesome morning orgasm. This was shaping up to be a way better business trip than usual.

This time I had grabbed a few tissues from the box on the nightstand, so I just chucked the goopy paper into the bin and got ready for the day. I didn’t have to be into the office for a bit, and the weather was unseasonably nice for London. I decided I’d head out early and walk to work.

* * * * *

As I rounded the hallway corner back towards my room that evening, I finally saw a man come out of the room next door. He was about my age in dark rimmed glasses. Four inches shorter than me or so. Clean shaven in a t-shirt with some logo on it.

“Hi,” I nodded. He nodded back, saying nothing, and stood outside the door. Was he waiting for someone else inside?

Wanting to buy myself a little bit of extra time in the hall, I pulled out my wallet and started searching for the hotel room’s keycard. I knew well it was in my suit jacket pocket, but I figured that Ellen might stick her head out.

I sifted through my wallet for a long time. At least it felt too long for me to have much left by way of plausibility deniability about whether I was really looking for the key. So I closed up my wallet and patted my jacket pocket.

“Ah, right,” I said out loud. Out of the corner of eye, I could see my neighbor was not looking at me at all. He was looking at his iPhone.

I started going into my room. Rats, I thought. I could’ve fumbled for way longer—not like that guy was paying attention.

But, right as my foot crossed the threshold, a woman came out of the room next door!

And . . . it was not Ellen. At all. It was some skinny blonde. Ringlet curls past her shoulders, pixie face, bright blue eyes. Her pink lips had a feline mischief to them when she walked out that door. But when she looked at me, her cheeks flushed and she averted her eyes downward.

She looked back up. "Hello," she said softly, turning to me.

"Hi," I said back. The pitch of her voice was about right.

“Ready?” The man said to her. He looked cross.

“Um, yeah.” She replied.

"Did you forget anything?"

"No, it's all here," she said to him, patting a small shoulder bag she carried. It wasn't just the pitch, but the timbre of her voice. Well, shit. This was the woman I heard getting fucked.

The two of them started walking away together. She looked over her shoulder at me and saw me watching her. She was still blushing. She must be embarrassed at meeting a guy who heard her getting pounded out, I thought. I might’ve blushed, too, under the circumstances. I did get to admire her ass in her jeans, a compact little bubble butt. Nice, but definitely had nothing on Ellen.

* * * * *

I went out for dinner with my colleagues and came back to the hotel after. As I entered the lobby, I saw Ellen, sitting on a couch, alone, in the hotel's bar and restaurant.

I walked over, right past the hostess desk. Ellen was sipping a drink in a tumbler glass through a little red straw, and she was wearing a strapless black cocktail dress. “Ellen,” I said. She turned her head and looked up to face me. Recognition set into her face. She smiled attractively.

“Mr. David Sutton, sir,” she mused.

“What about my other titles?”

“What about them?” She smirked. I smiled. She was clever.

“Why are you drinking alone?” I asked.

She sighed. “Why do you think? Because my boyfriend is lame!” He’s been in the room all day, working or taking calls. It’s so annoying.”

“He’s still up there?”

“Yeah! Except now that I’m not there, he’s apparently going to go out to a ‘late brainstorm sesh’ with his team.” She made air quotes with her fingers for those last words. “It’s been ridiculous. Whenever I want to do anything, he has to work. And he keeps backing out of the dates I put together for us! All he does is work on his laptop or hop on Zoom calls.”

“Huh. Then why did he have to come to London? It sounds like his work is just remote.”

“That’s what I said! And do you know what he said? Do you know what that—that jerk—said to me? He said ‘you don’t understand business.’”

“Wow.”

“I totally understand business!” She proclaimed. “I’m not exactly floundering in my field. Asshole.” She huffed and took a long suck on the little red straw in her drink.

“Even if you were, I feel like you don’t say things like that to people. It’s rude. Serves no purpose.”

“But I do understand business!”

I laughed. “I’m sure you do. That makes it worse.”

“Yeah. Thank you.” She looked relieved at the validation. “Do you want to join me?” She asked. “I hate drinking alone.”

“Sure,” I said. I sat down and ordered the house take on an old fashioned, made with some special English tea blend. It was good, but any drink would’ve been good in these circumstances: Ellen and I had a lovely time. And I mean lovely. We laughed. We shared a taste in music. The conversation flowed naturally; she'd ramble about her work, her high, bright voice accelerating and decelerating with the pace of her feelings. She complained about lots, too. Most particularly about her boyfriend, but also her siblings, her parents.

The easy of conversation only made her more attractive. I couldn't help but notice how good she smelled. After we finished our drinks, I ordered a second round. When I looked back at her--her I put my eyes back on her as soon as the waiter walked away. I could feel the telltale signs of lust. My jaw was trembling slightly. My cock was leaking precum in my trousers. I hadn’t felt this seized with anxious excitement on a date since I’d been, what, nineteen years old or so?

I felt her flirting back, too. But the feeling was soon dashed. “OK," she said, "I should get back upstairs and see if my boyfriend is still alive or if work finally killed him.”

“Right. Yeah, I guess it’s late for me.”

“Unless you want to swim with a hangover tomorrow morning,” she teased.

“I’ll do a lot for love, but I won't do that,” I quipped.

She giggled. “You’re funny.”

“Yeah, funny looking,”

“Hah,” she guffawed with a harsh exhale. “You know you’re not.”

“Maybe I want you to tell me all about it,” I replied.

“Maybe at the pool tomorrow morning I will.”

“Planning for your vibrator to be dead again?”

She bit her lip. I thought I could see her rubbing her thighs together, but the lighting was soft and dim, so that could’ve just been dickful (yes, I mean dickful) thinking. “OK, Mister,” she teased. “Maybe you have had enough for tonight.”

I called the waiter over to ask for the check.

“Sure, sir. What’s your room number?”

I told him mine. I looked over at Ellen to see a quizzical look on her face. “Are you paying for my drink?” She asked.

 “A small price to pay for your company."

“Thank you,” she smiled.

We got to the elevator. As we were waiting, she turned to me and said, “You know, hanging out with you was just what I think I needed. Jay’s been so self-centered. It’s nice to have a cute guy listen to my problems for a change and pay for my tequila.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m cute?”

“Mister, if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d be on my tippy toes with your tongue in my mouth right now.”

“Dump him?” I offered.

“Hardeehar, very funny.”

The elevator came. As we got in, Ellen’s food skidded. “Oh!" She yelped. I tried to grab her to keep her upright, my hands reaching out and finding her hips through her dress. “Ah!” She had caught herself on the back wall of the elevator and shoved off the wall, bumping her big backside into me and knocking me into the elevator buttons.

“You OK?” I asked her. Her back was against my chest.

“Yeah, are you? I thudded into you hard.” I could feel her soft ass against my clothed cock. It wasn't as soft as one might think looking at her. She must be a strong girl. I wondered how well  she could feel me.

“A-OK,” I said.

Ellen pulled herself off me and turned around. She pointed behind me and said, “At least you hit my floor.”

I looked back and saw that I activated the buttons for three hotel floors, including my own. “Got mine too,” I said.

As the elevator rose, I noticed her scent again. A woman who smells as sweet as that isn't someone you meet every day. But when you do, it stirs the loins something fierce. A sexual magnetism.

She must have noticed me sniffing—or at least noticed something—because she turned towards me and asked, “Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Something smells really good.”

“I don’t smell anything.”

I turn to her and smell. “I think it’s your perfume.”

“I’m not wearing any perfume,” she said.

Ah, so that’s just how she smells, I thought: Breedable. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And she was looking right back.

“You know,” she started, “I only had one drink. I could probably use another.”

The elevator opened to my floor. “Want another?” I asked. Sleep be damned. I’d stay up to hang out with this woman longer.

“Yeah.”

“OK,” I said, stepping out of the elevator. Ellen followed. “We’ll head back down—”

“Or maybe we could use the minibar?” She asked.

I turned to her. “Ellen, I thought—” But she was coming towards me.

Was I about to kiss another man’s girlfriend while he was in his room working in this very hotel?

My mouth found hers. So yes, yes I was.

Her lips immediately parted, our tongues dancing. This close, she somehow smelled even better. I grabbed her ass with both hands and squeezed.

“Fuck,” she moaned into my mouth.

“Mm, you like that?” I sighed back into her mouth, kneading her bubbly booty and gently biting her lower lip.

“Fucking love it!” she moaned.

I kissed down her neck. “Fuck,” she moaned. I bit her shoulder. "Fuck,” she moaned again. Suddenly she grabbed my head. “Hey, no marks, no marks!" She whined.

I looked at her. “Yeah. Right.”

“And, maybe . . . . Maybe we just have a drink. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

And there it was: my cresting boner was now falling with disappointment. “It’s fine. We can go down to the bar if you want.” I felt like a card, kissing a taken woman. I could at least by her a drink to make up for it.

“No, the minibar is fine.”

“OK, I said.” I started walking down the hall towards my room.

“Where are you going?” Ellen asked. I looked back at her. She was standing still.

“To my room?” I said, pointing over my shoulder with my thumb.

“Oh. OK.” She followed. When we got to mine, she looked at the door said said, “Here?”

“Yeah,” I replied. She followed me inside.

“How about I mix the drinks? I used to bartend in college.” I nodded. I took a seat on the hotel room couch and watched her hips swing her way to the minibar. It was well stocked. She mixed what looked to me like two dark and stormies. She brought them over and sat down. “Tell me how it is.”

I tasted it right as her thigh brushed against mine.

“It’s delicious. But,” I said, swallowing, “that might be because you smell really good. Perfumes the drink.

Ellen made a hungered face. “How good?”

“So good it’s hard not to bite your neck right now.” I took another sip and fretted I'd made a comment too far. But a sexy woman and liquid courage combined are a hell of a drug.

“David,” she sighed, moving her mouth towards mine again. This time I quickly returned the gesture, kissing her hard.

I had no excuse this time. When Ellen and I had kissed by the elevator, I hadn’t been thinking. Maybe that’s a sin in itself, but it's a sin of omission. This time, I was thinking clearly. "This hottie has a boyfriend, and I fucking want her." That’s the voice I heard in my head. "She smells like sex," the voice urged as our tongues wrestled between our mouths.

I reached under Ellen’s dress and massaged her bare, thick thigh.

“Fuck, I’m so wet,” she moaned into my mouth. She spread her legs wider and grabbed my wrist, steering me towards the lacy thong covering her hot, wet pussy. Fucking hell, she was soaked! I rubbed her juicy mound, feeling her dampness seep through the scant undergarment.

“You like touching this pussy?” She groaned lustily.

“So fucking wet for me. Good girl.” I went back to biting her neck, but more gently this time.

“Yessss,” she moaned. “Make me be a good girl and treat me like a slut!” God damn, those words were a fucking jackpot! She was talking even dirtier than the girl I'd heard getting fucked next door. I pulled her panties to the side and sunk two fingers right up her sopping gash. “Fuck yes! Oh, fuck, do it like that!” I hooked my fingers in a come-hither motion, massaging the front wall of her cunt.

I leaned towards her and pulled her strapless dress down over her tits with my other hand. My eyes were rewarded with her pink, perky nipples. I licked and sucked on her left breast, tracing the nipple with my tongue.

“Oh my god fuck yes!” She moaned. “Fuck. Fuck! You're going to make me cum.”

“Damn, already?” I was incredulous. Most women do not climax so easily.

 “You’re so good at that, and you’ve had me horny all night. Fuck!” I resumed frigging her dripping cunt on my digits. “Fuck!” She called again. I felt the front of her vagina spasming, cumming. Felt like a balloon inflating around me. “Oh fuck cumminnnnnggg!” She shouted her orgasm as her pussy squeezed my fingers off.

“Yeah, cum like a good girl, you nasty little slut!” I jeered as she writhed for me.

“Fuck, fuck, make me cuuuuum!” She threw her head back, arching her spine, letting the pleasure wash over her. When she started to come down from the delicious high, she looked at me, reclined on the couch, panting. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you just did that to me.” She started to sit up.

But hooked fingers keep a slut from moving. She groaned. “Want me to do it again?” I asked.

“I—ooohh—fuck. How are you so good at this?” Her cunt clamped. Was she already having another orgasm? I grabbed her left tit with my free hand and gave her nipple a pinch. “Fuck! Oh fuuuuck!” Her pussy went full vice on my fingers—definitely another orgasm.

I could smell it, too. How hard she was cumming. She reeked like a sweet, fuckable, breedable masterpiece. God damn, how did this sex kitten’s boyfriend not spend all his time inside her?

“Ohmygod, ohmygod,” Ellen panted, her black dress bunched around her waist, her hairless pussy and perky tits in full view. Her thighs jiggled as she came down from her latest cum. “OK, OK.” She scooted back away from me. My fingers fell out of her body. Stained with her honey.

I couldn’t help myself. She was pulling her dress back up over her breasts, and I was looking right in her eyes. So what did I do? Without breaking eye contact, I sucked my cuntcreamed fingers into my mouth and tasted her. Yum. As delicious as she smelled.

“Stop, stop, fuck! Ugh, that’s hot.” She exclaimed, watching me savor her. We weren’t touching at this point. We only watched each other. I stuck my tongue out for emphasis, scraping it between my fingers. I wanted to show her how thoroughly I slurped up her juices. How badly I hungered for her.

“Would be hotter getting your pussy soaking my beard,” I said smugly. I leaned forward and grabbed one of her plush thighs. Did I mention her skin felt wonderful? I started leaning down between her thighs, but Ellen caught my shoulders and set me back upright.

“No, David, we—we can’t.” She set her feet on the floor and looked at me. Her big, brown eyes glistened. Her skin twinkled with perspiration.

“OK,” I confirmed. I slid away from her, closer to the other side of the couch. When a woman says no, that’s to be respected. Without reservation. (Save for those situations where you agree before getting physical that “no” won’t mean no, and that some safeword means no, but I digress.)

“Oh, God, what am I doing?” Ellen grasped her forehead. “I’ve never done anything like this. Never—fuck!—I’ve never . . . cheated before." She froze after saying the c word. "This was a bad idea," she continued. "This whole trip was a bad idea. I wanted to have a nice time with him. He’s a good guy, really. I know I’ve been complaining about him,” she pattered, gazing at me like she needed me to understand. “But it’s going well with him. It really is. He can be an idiot and an asshole, but all men can be. I can be a bitch to him, too, but he doesn’t go and cheat on me. Oh, this is so bad. This is so, so bad.”

“Hey,” I sympathized, hoping a softer voice might pull her back to earth, “it’s ok. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I like flirting with you and talking to you. I should’ve known this would happen, and I knew you had a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but he’s not your boyfriend! And you didn’t bring me here like I’m some dog crawling on a leash!”

I swallowed. “Hey,“ I said with a pause, ”if we’re trying to cool off right now, maybe don’t make me think about pulling a leash on your neck.”

Ellen blinked. “You’re . . . into that, too?" Her eyes welled with excitement, but quickly crashed back down. "Why do you have to be such a dirty pervert?” Now her eyes were heavy with guilt, but at least there was a hint of a smile across her mouth.

“I don’t know. Why do you have to smell so good?”

She whimpered, paused, and took a breath. “Let’s cool it off, mister man.”

“It’s Mr. Swimmer, actually.” I smirked.

She held my gaze and stuck forward her right hand. “Friends?” Ellen asked.

“Sure,” I said, taking her hand with my own right. “Friends.”

Ellen took a beat. Her eyes were trained on my fingers and up my arm. Maybe she could feel the remnants of her wetness on me. “You do have big hands,” she said.

“And you know what they say about a man with big hands,” I replied, an eyebrow raised.

“It’s not true! I’ve fucked guys with bigger hands than yours who had perfectly normal dicks.”

“Maybe you need more data.” I swear I don’t normally press the flirting this hard, or make it quite this sexual, but something about Ellen was like catnip to me.

“No more for me, thanks. We’re friends, David. Just friends.”

“Right, right.” And she truly was right. And pretty cool to boot. I enjoyed hanging out with her at the bar and chatting about careers and friendships and the music we both liked. Friendship with her was undoubtedly a good thing. Not quite as good as bending her over, but don't look a gift horse in the mouth, right? No reason to mess that up just because my cock was still half-hard in my trousers. She has a boyfriend, I told myself. I respect that, and I respect her desires.

Ellen began to stand up from the hotel room couch but stopped on crooked knee and looked down at her shoes. “Fuck, did the strap break on this again?” She looked back at me. “I literally just took these to my cobbler.” Ellen, who was now mostly vertical and only a few feet away from me, turned back to her shoe and bent at the waist to inspect it.

As she bent over, I saw something that sent blood howling through my dick. She must have forgotten, as I had until this moment, the state of her dress: still bunched at her waist, over her ass. Her big, round, delectable, bubbly, juicy ass. That same ass she’d teased me with when she left the pool. Except now it was fully on display, bare and luscious in my own private show. Her cunt shimmered between her legs. Her rear cheeks were so plush that I only could see a hint of her puckered asshole.

Now, before you read on, I know. She’d said to stop. She said she had a boyfriend. She wanted to be a good girl. A loyal girl. But her irresistible butt was mere feet from my face, and she smelled like she should be pregnant with my baby.

So I did the bad thing.

As if caught in a tractor beam, I moved to her. I fell to my knees, grabbed her thick ass, and spread her wide. Her pussy was perfectly pink and juicy. Her crinkled asshole was like a bullseye for my tongue.

“David!” She started. “What are—ooooh!” Ellen moaned. She hadn’t tried to move away from my hands, and quickly my tongue was lapping up the length of her slit. Tasting her. “Ooh, fuck! Fuck, you eat pussy so good!”

I was devouring her. She tasted as good as she smelled, which was saying something. I couldn’t stop. I dug my tongue between her folds, tasting her sloshing fuck channel.

“Oh fuuuuck!” Ellen squealed. She was wriggling her fat ass back against my face now, feeding me her sweet sex juices. And I was all too happy to feast on them. “Tongue-fuck my pussy, baby. Oh my god fucking eat meeee!” She moaned like a whore who’d been edging so she’d be hot as a firecracker for a dirty Tinder hookup.

My fingers burrowed into her round assflesh. My mind briefly drifted to the woman I’d heard getting plowed in the room next door. No way she tasted as good as Ellen. And she certainly didn’t have a backside this thick and perfect.

“You’re delicious,” I gasped between air-starved pussy-eating.

“I’ve got the wettest pussy,” Ellen moaned back. “I love sucking my vibrator after I cum on it. Love tasting myself on dick even more. Oooh, yes, lick me up!” Damn, this girl was nasty, and I was loving every second of it!

Eating Ellen’s bent-over cunt from the back had her crinkled asshole at my eye level. I needed to taste her there, too.

So I did.

“Oooh, what are you doing to me?” Ellen whimpered as my tongue lavished her puckered hole.

“Like that?” I asked.

“It’s—oh, fuuuck!” She was incoherent, unable to structure a response as my tongue punched its way up her ass. I couldn’t stop rimming her, and my cock felt like it was going to punch a hole in the wool of my suit trousers. So, still grabbing a juicy ass cheek, still pushing the tip of my tongue all around Ellen’s sexy asshole, I reached down and freed my cock from my trousers, pulling it above the elastic waistband of my boxer briefs. It was drenched with precum. My hand easily glided up and down my circumcised length as I gave this sexy woman the anal tongue-fucking of a lifetime.

Suddenly, Ellen jerked forward and turned around. She was looking down at me as I sat on my knees, my trousers open, my steel-hard cock in my hand.

“Your beard’s all wet,” she breathed softly, her big, brown eyes gazing down my body to where I was holding my member.

I stood. “Because you drenched me,” I said. As she watched me, I slowly pumped my dick up and down. I loved seeing the glistening reflection in her eyes. “Your pussy is candy-sweet. I could fucking suck your clit for hours.”

Ellen leaned into me and took my cock in her hand. “So big,” she moaned. “Why is your dick huge?”

“Because your cunt and asshole taste so good.” Her soft fingers felt like velvet sex on my meat.

At those words, Ellen sprang forward and kissed me. Mouth open and hungry. My tongue found hers, and we gnashed her cuntcream between us like our tongues were in a championship wrestling match. I reached for her ass and squeezed as we made out.

“No one’s ever eaten my ass before,” she confessed. I bit her neck. “Fuck.” That was my thought exactly; her scent was too sexy.

“That’s a fucking crime,” I said between bites. I smacked her fat ass, watching over her shoulder as it jiggled invitingly. “With a body like this, you were made to be an anal whore.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned. Ellen grabbed my face and pulled me into her mouth again, kissing me deep. “That’s so fucking dirty.”

“You like dirty, don’t you?” I growled. I bit her lip. She whimpered.

“I love it. I love it!” She repeated, more frantically the second time.

I pushed her backwards so her bare ass plopped onto the couch. She was sitting now, looking up at me. My cock was at her forehead level. I pointed it to her mouth and pressed it to her lips.

Ellen didn’t resist for a second. She hoovered my cock into her mouth, immediately slurping me deep. Down to the start of her throat.

“Fuck, yes, slut! Suck my fucking dick!” I barked. I stroked a hand through her dark, silky hair as she did the despicable work of impaling her gullet on me, glugging nastily as the head of my dick slipped down her esophagus.

She drew back with a spitty pop and a pant. “Ooh,” she whimpered, giving me a few more sloppy, deep sucks before spitting my dick out again, “I fucking love how your cock feels in my mouth.”

I grabbed her by the hair and yanked so she was looking up at me. “Ow ow ow!” She yelped.

I leaned forward. “Say, ‘I love how your cock feels in my mouth, Daddy.’” I hissed the final word.

“OK, just don’t pull so hard. I’m sensitive.” She pouted, almost childlike. It was heartwarming in a way. But her next words brought me back to the filthy hotel room fuck at hand: “I love how your giant fuckstick feels using my slutty mouth, Daddy,” she offered nastily.

“Good girl,” I complimented, grinning. “So why don’t you slut it up good and really destroy your throat on this dick?” I pulled her hair, being careful to be more gentle this time, and brought her lips right against my cock. Dutifully, she gave it a smacking kiss.

“Yes, Daddy. Feed my slutty mouth your beautiful cock.” God, this girl was driving me wild!

I pushed my meat forward and skewered her sexy mouth, feeling the delightful tightness of the opening to her throat. “Swallow that cock, bitch! Suck it like a good fucking whore.” She complied, frenzied, ping-ponging her head up and down. I threw my head back, loving how voraciously she was guzzling my cock. “Fuck, baby,” I grunted, “no one’s ever throated my dick like this before.”

She pulled back and smiled up at me. Her makeup had melted into raccoon eyes, her face a mess of thick drool. “You’ve never had a dirty bitch slut like me before, Daddy.”

That was it. As much as I wanted to fuck her brains out—I was on fire for this woman—I also wanted to reward her for being such a sweet dirty talking slut. So I pushed her back on the couch, dropped between her legs, and scooped my arms up under her plush thighs. I licked her again, asshole to cunt.

Ellen was flailing and spreading herself for me. “Eat my asshole, Daddy! Lick my cunt! Suck my clit and make me cum. Please, Daddy! Please please please!” Only too happy to give her what she wanted, I stuffed two fingers up her pussy and hooked them and suctioned her clit between my lips. “Oh, fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” She wailed. As her body convulsed, as her cunt clenched my digits, I pushed a finger up her pulsing asshole. “FUUUUUCK!” She screamed at the anal penetration, cumming even harder. Her pussy was gushing thick cream. Greedily, I licked up every drop I could get.

She was still panting when I shot up and kissed her. She was mostly limp from her climax. Her tongue met mine, but she was largely passive, letting me force-feed her the fuckjuices of her massive orgasm. I moved forward and, with her reclined on the couch, properly fucked my dick down her throat.

“Swallow this nut, bitch. Swallow Daddy’s cum. Fucking drink it.” I commanded. She didn’t fight. She let me use her mouth, veiny shaft pistoning down her throat. She gently started rubbing my balls, ever the complicit cumslut. That was it. “Take my seed!” I roared as I came. She pressed her face forward—I was balls deep in her gullet. Burning ropes of pleasure dashed out my cock and into her tummy. I heard her glug as she swallowed.It felt like I spewed gallons of fucksauce into her stomach, my balls already sore at the force of my orgasm.

Ellen didn't try to get my dick out of her throat until I was done cumming, and I certainly wasn't pulling away. I was too busy basking in the bliss of this sexy, doe-eyed slut princess massaging my spent, half-hard cock with her mouth.

When my cock dribbled out last dregs of semen, Ellen pulled her head away, letting her lips suction my shaft as she finally took her mouth back off me. The moment my cockhead exited her mouth, she looked up at me, bleary-eyed with ruined makeup , and stuck out her pink tongue, making the most luscious "Ah" gasping noise.

There wasn't a trace of white cum on that pretty tongue of hers. She’d taken it all.

"Oh. My God!" Ellen mewled, catching her breath. "How. How how how did we just do that!" She was clenching her fists and sat on the floor, on her knees. She looked dejected.

"I think we did excellently," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. I raised up my pants and started putting my cock away.

“I’ve never cheated before.” She said plainly. Her eyes avoided me as she uttered this.I had no idea how to respond. I knelt down on the floor so I could be eye-level with her. I rested a hand on her forearm. This got her to look at me. Seeing her round face and big brown eyes, I admit, I was surprised to find myself still so attracted to her even right after cumming so hard. I often lose a bit of attraction once I’m done, but not this time.

“I told you I had a boyfriend. Why didn’t you stop?” She asked.

“You were kissing and pawing me, too!” I declared. “Has any man ever been able to push you away when you got that close? You‘re way too sexy for that.”

The compliment brought a semblance of a smile to Ellen’s lips. “My boyfriend pushes me away plenty,” she snarked. But her eyes were watering, and seemingly with new tears. Snark to hide sorrow. Woman after my own heart.

“Rejected people act out,” I said. “And you’re right: I didn’t stop. You didn’t, either, but I didn’t. I’m sorry.” She nodded meekly.

”Yeah,” she ho-hummed. “Me too.”

“If it’s any consolation,” I said, “that was very, very fun.”

Ellen blinked at me. “It was incredible. I came like seventeen times.” Wow, I thought. I had been trying to keep track—a man prides himself on bringing a woman pleasure—but I didn’t count close to that high. “And I don’t even swallow cum!” She spouted.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I replied.

“I guess I didn’t even really swallow your cum. You just shot it right down my throat. I could barely taste it. That’s . . . hot.”

“Hot?”

“Yeah.”

“Because I made you take it? Because you didn’t really have a choice?” My words came out so fast.

“Fuck,” she sighed. Suddenly she flailed her arms upwards. “Why do you have to be so sexy when my fucking boyfriend is ignoring me?!” She exclaimed.

“You don’t even know the half of it yet.” I felt my cock wriggling back to life in my trousers.

“David,” she sighed. “I’m going to go. Can . . . we be friends? Just friends?”

I smiled. “Sure. Of course. Friends.” Still both kneeling, we leaned into each other for a chaste hug. Her dress was still ridden up. I could see her thick ass splatted wonderfully against the floor.

She started to stand, so I rose with her. When she was erect, she pushed her dress down. “No more free views for you, mister,” she teased.

“How much to subscribe to your OnlyFans?” I shot back.

“More than you can afford! This pussy is pricy!”

I laughed. I showed her to the door. “Good night, Ellen,” I said.

“Night,” she smiled. She took a half-step, as if she would hug me again, but stepped back quickly and left. The hotel room door closed, and I was alone.