You can blame him for the cheesy title. He said it to me while we were lying naked in a post-coital haze, and I had just told him I’d likely be in London later this summer. “Can’t wait for the London post – ‘The very special relationship,’” he said. I caught his eye initially with a [cleverly titled RAOMD post](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/bh7qa3/fucking_a_hot_brit_m_in_my_manhattan_hotel_room/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app), and this was the second time we were getting together.
Our schedules didn’t align the two evenings I was in town. When he proposed a morning tryst, I blocked my calendar and eagerly awaited the final morning of the trip. He instructed me to be showered and in nothing but a towel or robe when he arrived. Ever the rule follower, I complied. The clock passed 7:30, his planned arrival time. I was a ball of nervous sexual energy, my pussy throbbing already.
When I heard the knock at the door, I jumped up to answer. I pulled it open to find him dressed for work: slacks, button down, blazer, trench coat. He breezed past me into the room with a casual “hello”. I shut the door and a bit flustered, turned to face him. He quickly turned back around and moved quickly on me, pushing me roughly against the door. His mouth on me, his hands on my body and finding my pussy. I was instantly overwhelmed, every nerve ending firing in reaction to his touch.