The Meeting [MF]

My heels clicked on the shiny floor of the hotel lobby and a few heads turned to look at me as I crossed from the reception desk to the elevators hall. I wouldn’t look out of place if it wasn’t for the hour. I was dressed in a business ensemble, well cut since the labels were Italian, as were my heels, but it was conservative with its gray and black tones, plus the slightly transparent shirt was covered by the buttoned up jacket. Nothing to advertise that I was heading to some very un-businesslike dealings.

My executive appearance wouldn’t have stood out within the daily crowd, but the evening crowd gathered to hit the VIP club at the top floor was a different matter. Young women dressed for the kill were certainly a sharp contrast to me. I smiled knowingly and a number of the men around noticed and stared at me wondering. My wicked and confident little smile contrasted with my serious attire and, males on the hunt as they were, they didn’t miss the signal.

I showed my room card to the security manning the elevators hallway and quickly got into one before its doors closed. I stood still, laughs and chitchat around me kept out of my personal space. Once at my floor I checked the room number again and walked to its door, my steps silent on the carpeted hallway. The agreed plan was to enter without knocking and without talking, and await further instructions.

I was no sub. However I liked a dominant man and was willing to try different things. My partner on this particular foray was a stranger, but not totally out of the blue. We didn’t know about our real lives, jobs or last names, but we had shared sexual thoughts so in that regard we understood each other. He had an idea of how far he could push my boundaries and I chose to trust his control. Tonight we would test it.

I opened the door and stepped in, letting it close behind me. Night was creeping in but still enough light remained not to need to turn on any lamp, although most details were obscured. You were sitting in a reading chair, your back to the large window so your face was even more shadowed. You also wore a business suit, although you had removed your jacket. You sat relaxed, your eyes all but. I couldn’t see them, only their shine, and felt their intensity.

“Turn around” you said without moving.

I complied, slowly turning until I was facing you again.

“Unbutton your jacket” you said “and hold it open”.

I slowly unbuttoned it and unlaced the velvet bow at the collar. I opened it, like a trench coated exhibitionist of yore, feeling your eyes on the bra that could clearly be seen through the thin cotton of my white shirt. I knew the effect it had on you. Your hand slid to your lap, to adjust the bulge pushing against the fabric. But your voice didn’t change his soft but commanding tone.

“Keep undressing”.

I felt a little out of sorts, since this was indeed some adventuring for me. Usually I got undressed by a partner, whether softly and worshiping or fast and passionate, or I undressed myself out of my own volition, playfully and sensually. But never I had a man instructing me, as if I was a mare being turned around and checked for her breeding potential.

I unhurriedly took off my jacket, and let it drop on the floor; untucked my shirt and slowly unbuttoned it, my white bra showing its cradling of my breasts. I gradually raised my skirt, inch by tantalizing inch, exposing my pantyhose clad legs to their best advantage. Once it was around my waist you ordered me to take it off and I did, slowly pushing my skirt down my legs, bending slightly to push it past my knees, knowing this movement would show off my generous cleavage. My success was evident when your moan reached my ears, and I hide my smile while I straightened up and haltingly stepped out of the circle of my skirt laying at my feet. And I waited for your next command.

I felt your eyes on me, looking from my black heels up my legs to my bra and the open shirt framing my torso. Your hand moved and deliberately unzipped your slacks. My eyes glued to your movements, my breath held while your fingers slipped within the opening to release your dick from its constraint. My mouth watered at the sight and I had to lock my weakening knees not to fall.

Even with your hand embracing your hard cock, your voice didn’t change when it told me to slowly get my shirt off. I obeyed, gently wriggling my shoulders until the shirt slid down my arms to pool around my wrists. Carefully I unbuttoned the cuffs, let my arms drop and the shirt whispered on its way to the floor.

Then, lo and behold, unbeknownst to you you gave me what I most wanted. You told me to get on my knees and get closer, which in such a scenario could only mean one thing. You didn’t know how much of an arousal it was to have a cock on my mouth, and I wouldn’t tell you, not even smile, and definitely not jump in the air with my fist high.

So I knelt, thankful to be unlocking my trembling knees and slowly walked my way to you, trying not to stare too hungrily at your cock and give myself away. When I reached you I could see your face better, the controlled hunger sharpening its features, the dilated pupils on your eyes.

“Take your bra off” you told me. And I did. Gently, holding the cups with my hands after unhooking the bra, leisurely lowering them, uncovering my breasts little by little, feeling your bating breath, mine, and enjoying the suspended expectation. Finally I let go of the bra, and the fullness of my tits was spilled in front of you, for you to take, to gorge, a bountiful buffet just for your eyes, mouth and hands.

But you didn’t touch them, just caressed them with your eyes, and then issued the words I most wanted to hear.

“Take my cock in your mouth”.

I had been salivating since I had gotten on my knees, so I just had to wet my lips when I bent my head over your lap, your cock held at its base by your hand. I knew you’d find my mouth wet and warm, soft and receiving.

Your other hand went to the back of my head, but didn’t push or pull, just stayed there while I took you in, inch by delectable inch. You moaned and tried to keep still while I slowly worked my way down your shaft. And then up while sucking, and slowly down again. You muttered how good it felt and had I not had my mouth wide open, I would have smiled. Nothing turns on as much as a turned on playmate, and nothing turned me on as much as tasting a cock. Your pleasure was not only your pleasure, but the echo of mine on yours. That’s what heightened your sensations.

It didn’t take long for you to warn me you were cumming, and ask if I wanted your cum in my mouth. I couldn’t reply with words but I could run my tongue in circles around the crown of your tip on my way up, and then go all the way down until it hit the back of my throat, that humid, warm and flexible membrane that feels like hitting the cervix. You came, grunting and moaning how good I made you feel, and I swallowed it, releasing you slowly after the last twitching subsided.

I lifted my head and looked you in the eyes, waiting for the next scene.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/dmnnao/the_meeting_mf