As tired as I am from my long flight, I feel so keyed up I won't be able to sleep right now if I tried. To get my mind off tomorrow's long schedule of meetings, I drop my bags in my hotel room and stop in to the bar across the street. It's a Sunday night in the financial district, so while this place might be hopping with investment bankers at Friday happy hour, right now the atmosphere is quiet and relaxed. It's perfect to unwind with a beer and the crossword puzzle I started on the plane.
I'm stuck on one of the long clues. I could work on the intersecting words, but I can feel the correct phrase dancing just out of reach. I stare off in front of me, sipping at my beer, thinking through the riddle. Suddenly I realize there's a man in my direct line of sight a few tables away. Not wanting to appear to stare, I quickly dart my eyes away but he seems so enthralled in his trade magazine I let my attention return to him. He's the archetype of tall, dark, and handsome and obviously traveling for business himself. The dress shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, gives him a slightly disheveled look that contrasts with neatness of his clean-shaven jaw. As he reads his article I fantasize about tearing through the remaining buttons on his shirt.
Now I really have been staring too long. He looks up as he turns the page and we lock eyes. I feel a twinge inside me as his smile brings to mind an even better way to relax after a flight. In a flash my fantasy centers on his mouth: hot, open, hungry. Kissing me. Biting my neck.
The thought must be written clearly in my expression, because his eyes dance with amusement behind the dark frames of his glasses. For a few minutes we flirt with our eyes, making a show of focusing on the materials we brought with us–him, flipping casually through the magazine, me, filling in letters on my puzzle—then looking at each other with widening grins. Each time I see him looking at me, I undo one more button on my cardigan. I note the way his gaze is focused on my hands, the same hands I want to press on his naked skin. There is an electric charge building within me and I know of only one way to release it. I think he might be game.
At the last button, I let the sweater drape on my shoulders. The air is cool and my tank top is thin, but I'm not planning on staying here much longer. When I finish my beer, I fold the puzzle into my purse and walk the few tables down to his. How long has it been since I've picked up someone at a bar? Probably not since my drunken college nights. I can't think of a smooth way to introduce myself and tell him my intentions, but emboldened by my drink and his clear interest, I jump straight to the point. "I'm here on business and could use some company," I say. I pull his magazine toward me and write a three-digit number on the corner of the open page. “I'm at the hotel across the street. If you're free, I'd love to see you there."
I feel myself blushing under his gaze as he studies me. It's unlike me to be so direct. I didn't think it was possible, but he looks even more amused now than before. He takes the pen from my hand and writes another number underneath mine. "Why don't you join me in my suite instead… city views, I think you'd like it."
Ah, a high-powered businessman? Of course he has to one-up my proposition. "Okay. I'll be there in…" I check my watch. "Fifteen minutes?" He nods.
Fifteen minutes later I get off the elevator on the top floor. I've left my sweater in my room but it's much warmer here, or maybe it's the excitement that's filling me with heat. In the short pause since we parted, I realize I didn't ask his name or tell him mine. How delightfully wrong it feels to be looking for a complete stranger's room. He opens the door as soon as I knock and beckons me in. I feel his eyes on my ass as I walk past him. The suite is much nicer than the small room my company authorized me to book. First a wet bar with two stools, followed by a plush couch against one wall that faces a door that must lead to the bedroom. As promised, the focal point is the large picture window that fills the wall opposite the hall door. The long stretch of lights of the commercial buildings meld into the skyline, the flicker of taillights from the traffic below pulse to the rhythm of the stoplights, the congested blocks give way to the smooth darkness of the harbor off to the left.
“Would you like anything to drink?” he asks. I was too nervous to notice his voice earlier, but now I realize it’s a seductively smooth baritone. “I have a very nice scotch, but perhaps you’d like something else?”
I smile at him. “Scotch would be lovely. Neat, please.”
He gestures to me to sit on the couch while he fixes two glasses of scotch, one with ice, one without. His fingers brush against mine when he hands me the glass and settles on the cushion next to me, then rest on the small of my back. There’s something so familiar about the gesture that I’m immediately comfortable with him. We play at carrying a conversation, the sharp scent of the peat filling the space between us as we pretend that we’re not here to seduce and be seduced.
After depositing my emptied glass on the coffeetable, I feel drawn to the window. The sharp lights in the smooth darkness, the hard steel of skyscrapers and the undulating water in the harbor, together they make a beautiful view. For a moment I forget where I am, who I'm with. He steps in close behind me, his hands on my waist, the smooth skin of his jaw brushing against my ear. "Beautiful, isn't it? Just wait until you see the sunrise." Brought back to reality, I turn my head to kiss him, immediately deep with lust. The taste of the scotch on his tongue makes me breathless as my mouth opens under his. Taking the passion of the kiss as an invitation, he slides his hands up my ribs to grope my breasts. I purr into his mouth, unable to keep my hips from grinding back on his.
We break our kiss long enough for him to get my shirt over my head and quickly unhook my bra. I try to turn towards him, wanting to work my fingers down his shirt buttons as I'd imagined at the bar, but he turns me away and pushes my hands against the window. Then the assault continues with his fingers pinching my nipples and his mouth nibbling on my neck. My heavy breath clouds the glass just in front of my face. Being halfway naked in view of the rest of the city only adds to my arousal.
The story continues in Part 2
…or skip to the end: Part 3
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/27c9ah/lights_in_the_harbor_part_1_mf_str8_strangers_exh