It wasn’t the first time I’d met someone hook up. So, you’d think I wouldn’t get nervous meeting someone in a hotel room. Yet, still, I was nervous in that hotel room waiting for her to call me as soon as she parked.
The phone rang, and I headed downstairs, my stomach full of butterflies, and my cock hard in anticipation. I walked past the lobby and told her that I was out front waiting for her. Had she actually shown up? She hadn’t gotten spooked at the thought of meeting a much older man (a stranger, really), that had promised her a few hours of good fucking.
I spotted her on my left, walking up in a short and loose summer dress. Yellow with small flowers. She had on wedges, which made her 5’7″ frame even taller. I had instructed her not to wear a bra, and to have a dildo inside her. The dildo was held in place by tight biking shorts. As she sauntered intentionally over to me, it was clear to anyone that paid attention, that she was definitely not wearing a bra. The bounce of her perky 23-year old tits was difficult to ignore. Her long legs crowned by her wide hips. And those hips contrasted proudly against her small waist. To borrow an overused aphorism, she was made for fucking.