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I invented this scenario as part of a discussion with my friends Paula and Rebecca: How to get laid by a stranger with minimum risk and maximum comfort, and with maximum chances of a quick hook-up with minimal effort. The idea was to approach men in a hotel lobby or bar, men who were passing through town and would not have local ties. Offer oneself for their pleasure with no strings attached.
The benefits of this scenario were several. You get to hunt in a closed environment and pick out someone who looks good to you. You get to fuck a fairly safe guy, a visiting white collar business man, and someone you are not likely to meet the next weekend at a local party. You get to do it in a clean room, with clean sheets, room service, and a private bathroom. Free. And afterwards, you can leave with a clean break, walking out of the room and driving away in your own vehicle. And better hotels maintain discreet security forces.
After a lot of equivocation and manufactured delays, I finally decided to do it. I dressed simply, a short but demure skirt and a silk blouse, opened one button beyond discreet. And high heeled sandals. Nothing else but some simple jewelry and a black choker around my throat. I like the hint of BDSM in it. No underwear of course.
I had researched the local hotels in Tucson and picked out two as being good possibilities. I settled on the Hilton for tonight. A nice lobby and softly lighted bar I arrived about 8:45, after the dinner hour but early enough so the men might still be in the bar having an after dinner drink. There were about two dozen people in the bar when I arrived, several couples, four tables of two to four men, and a scattering of single men at the bar. I was the only single woman.
Being a chicken I decided on Plan B, go to the bar and wait to get hit on. (Plan A, with me being more assertive, was to pick out a guy and approach him directly, offering myself for his pleasure for the evening.) I figured I could sit at the bar with my drink and keep that option open as I checked out the room.
Several of the men at the bar were interesting: attractive, not too old, in good shape. As I checked them out a guy pulled out of a foursome at one table and came over. He leaned against the bar next to me and almost made me spill my drink. “Hi, beautiful,” he said. So suave. “Are you available for a foursome?”
I almost fell off my stool. This jerk figured me for a hooker! And I was definitely not dressed that way. Well, maybe not too much. And I was showing a lot of thigh….
I stammered, “No, that isn’t what topkapı escort I’m interested in tonight.” Then realized I had painted myself into the proverbial corner. What was I interested in?
I couldn’t believe this guy had walked up to me and done what my Plan A called for: me to stun my target with bluntness. This guy had me rocked back on my heels, trying to recover my cool.
He just stood there and smiled at me as I tried to recover. Then, finally, I said to him, “I’m not a hooker.”
He continued to smile and said, “So, what do you think of my offer?”
I was having trouble breathing. This was definitely not how I envisioned this evening going. I had lost control and didn’t know what to do. But the son of a bitch was patient. He just stood there and waited for me to respond, smiling at me.
He wasn’t bad looking, maybe forty and getting a little belly, but nice face and behavior. He now had one buttock on the stool next to me as he waited, and I kept sucking air. Plans A and B had gone up is smoke, and I was trying to figure out what to do.
Finally I said to him, “Not four. I’m not ready for four. But one, you, would be OK. And maybe one other. But no more for now. And I am not a pro. I don’t want money.”
At his shocked expression I regained some strength. “I told you. I am not a hooker,” I repeated. “I am just looking for some fun, no strings attached.”
His smile widened and he said, “Well, I’ll be damned. Wait here please.”
He went back to his table and talked for a few minutes with the other men. Then he came back and said, “We have a problem. No one wants to drop out. How about if Charlie over there, the blond guy, and I take you to my room to play. And later, when you say OK, we call John and Andy to join us? That way you only have to play with two of us at a time.”
Right. I knew that was a load of crap. If I said yes and went with them, I knew I would be dealing with four men. The sequence was the only thing up for grabs.
My stomach was in knots and yet full of butterflies. I wanted this; and yet I was petrified. Four strange men? Should I do it? This was not what I had envisioned. I figured to be in charge, and I was not in charge at all in this. And yet I came here to get laid, and had included the possibility of multiple men. I wanted to get fucked, no bones about it. And I was prepared to get fucked by strangers. Just not four.
“Oh hell,” I thought finally, go for it.
I looked pot belly in the eye and said, “Ok, deal, but I want you to be sure I don’t get hurt. I’m counting fatih escort on you.” What a stupid thing to say, but what the hell. Maybe he would feel responsible for me.
He signaled Charlie, and the two of them escorted me to the elevators. Not a word was said until we were inside the steel box, then belly said, “Hey, hon. My name is Fred, and this is Charlie. No need for last names.”
I smiled and said, “I’m Susan, and I agree.” My courage was returning now that we three were alone, and I reached out and touched Charlie on his chest. I took his hand and brought it to my breast. He knew right away that I had no bra on and grinned. He massaged my breast through my expensive blouse and announced, , “Hey Fred, she ain’t wearin’ no bra.” And he proceeded to pop all the buttons off my blouse as he pulled it open.
Shit, I thought. My most expensive blouse and this idiot just ruined it. And then it didn’t seem to matter as Charlie locked his mouth onto one nipple while playing with the other. God I love to have my nipples abused. Ok, I thought, I can sew the buttons back on.
The elevator doors opened and we were in the hallway. Fortunately, or maybe not, no one was there. Fred and Charlie ushered me half naked down the hall to Fred’s room. He let us all in, and then things progressed as you might imagine. In no time I was naked and on the bed. Well, I didn’t have much on to begin with.
Fred took me first, with no foreplay. He just climbed between my legs, spread my thighs, and plunged into my pussy. I thought it would hurt but found myself well lubricated. I guess the banter at the bar and the tit sucking in the elevator were all the foreplay I needed. Fred set up a steady rhythm, banging away into my now sodden cunt, while Charlie continued to feast on my tits. I wrapped my legs around Fred and held Charlie’s head as he suckled me. The only sounds in the room where Fred’s grunts, the squish of his cock as it slid in and out of my wetness, and Charlie’s sucking noises.
By the time Fred came, my nipples were getting sore. He pulled out of me with a soft “pop” sound, and Charlie immediately moved to replace him. Fred leaned against the headboard and watched as Charlie fucked me. His cock was no longer than Fred’s, but it was fatter, and it felt really good as it moved in me. And it felt good to be getting fucked again after a long, self-induced abstinence. But while Charlie was an enjoyable fuck, he came too fast to suit me. Two guys had now fucked me, poured their sperm into my belly, but I had not had even one orgasm. This was not going eyüp escort the way I wanted. Damn.
When they had each come – and what ever happened to the idea of condoms – we lay there recovering, them with limp pricks and me with a weeping cunt – and a need for an orgasm. In fairness, I do like the feel of cum leaking out and down my crevice. It tickles my anus. But I also like the belly-clenching joy of climax, and all I felt was a sense of fullness and a dull ache.
Fred recovered first, and called for room service. I just lay there on top of the bedspread, idly playing with my pussy. Soon we had ice, Scotch, and extra glasses. And a lucky bell hop had a new memory of a customer’s bare cunt. I didn’t bother to cover up.
I never did get to say OK, but John and Andy soon showed up for their turn. The Scotch helped, and I gave John one of my better blow jobs while Andy took me from behind. All too soon, John filled my mouth with warm cum, and that seemed to be the trigger for me; I finally came, and I think the spasms pushed Andy over the edge. He immediately blew his gift into my belly.
John tasted quite good, I thought, as I swallowed his load. And Andy seemed to have let loose a torrent of sperm; I could feel it begin to leak out of me as soon as he withdrew his softening cock. Thank goodness for female contraception. But whatever happened to the condoms?
None of the guys seemed up for seconds, which I attributed to the liquor they had consumed before and after I arrived. Better to think that than that I wasn’t sexy enough to revive them. John and Andy dressed quickly while I lay naked, sprawled on the bed. I wondered idly if there would be an extra charge for removing the cum stains from the bedspread.
Pair number two then thanked me and left – a little guiltily I thought. It occurred to me then that no one had kissed me. And I was a bit relieved that none wanted my ass. I like to reserve that for men I know and trust – a very short list.
So I washed up a bit, dressed, kissed Fred and Charlie goodbye on the cheek, and left.
I was inexplicably tired but exhilarated by the kinkiness of being fucked by four strangers. Their cum continued to leak out of my pussy, wetting my thighs as I walked to my truck. I paused next to the Ranger and wiped myself, put on the emergency panties (not sexy), climbed in, and drove back to the Fairgrounds and my new camping space.
Jake seemed happy to see me, wanting to be let out pronto to play with the coyotes.
I put off a shower to sit and write this account. Now all the cum seems to have leaked out, so I can go have a shower without having to use the shower head as a douche. Well, since that feels quite nice, maybe I’ll do that too. After all, I had only one orgasm with the “boys.”
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