(Part One here, Part Two here)
We drove the half block to Engineer’s hotel – admittedly, probably neither of us should have been driving, but it was a very short distance and walking was probably not a good idea either.
He ushered me in by way of key card and I laughed at my g-string still hanging around his neck. We both agreed we wanted to have sex in an elevator one day, but he unfortunately was only on the second floor, so the make-out session in the elevator was very short.
He had two queen beds in his room, a laptop on the desk, a tidy suitcase on the dresser, and a notepad full of equations and angles on the desk. I don’t remember when the clothes came off, but I know it didn’t take long. He pushed me back onto one of the beds and spread my thighs apart.
His warm mouth felt amazing on my clit and I shuddered in pleasure under his touch. He kept switching it around – fingers, mouth, tongue, fingers, tongue… I writhed and wondered if the hotel guests next door could hear my sounds of ecstacy. I came quickly and pulled Engineer onto the bed.
I spent very little time teasing him before taking his cock into my mouth. There was no point in prolonging – I wanted him inside me, in my mouth first, and my dripping pussy second.
“Suck my cock,” he half groaned, half demanded.
“Demanding, aren’t you?”
“Suck my cock, please?”
“Hmm, I liked it better the other way.”
He pushed down on my shoulders – “Then just suck it!” It was hot, whatever it may sound like in this post, to have him do that. I went for it, tickling the tip with my tongue and taking him in, sucking in sections – the head first, the first quarter down, halfway down… I don’t know how far I got, because he was LONG, but I know I couldn’t deep throat him all the way down. It was disappointing for me, but I did what I could.
“Look at me.” He pulled me up by my hair. I kept my mouth and tongue around him, looking at him with all the lust I could muster. Every time my eyes would close or look down, he pulled me back up to look at him. The eye contact was phenomenal and sexy, and I tried to keep it going as I moved down to his balls, taking one at a time into my mouth and massaging them with my fingers and tongue.
As I moved back from the balls to the shaft, I knew I needed to get him inside me and soon or I was going to go crazy. We knocked everything off the bed – my purse, my keys, the pillows, the blankets – as we maneuvered from me riding him to him fucking me with my legs pushed up against his chest. I realized how that length could really feel inside. It was electric, intense, nearly painful in the pleasure I was getting.
He flipped me over and began to pound me from behind. Every motion of his dick in and out of me built me up and I felt more sensitive to it each time.
“You’re so sexy, GOD, your body is fucking hot!” I didn’t respond, because I find it hard to come up with something sexy to say that isn’t “Yours, too!”, but I loved hearing him tell me that.
I had to come or it was going to hurt, especially because he kept pulling my hair and that was driving me wonderfully crazy. He kept himself inside me as he pushed my legs together between his and I was on the very edge. I felt nearly dominated – next time, I’ll tell him to be rougher – my head against the bed, my back arched, my ass nearly in his face, and my pussy slick and tight around him.
”Come with me,” I breathed out, half screaming, half sighing.
He pulled his dick out from the tightness between my legs and came, warm and wet, all over my arched back and ass. We collapsed onto the bed for a few weary, pleased moments before he grabbed a towel and kindly cleaned my back up.
After some chit-chat, he asked if I would be offended if we slept in different beds. I wasn’t offended at all. I don’t need cuddling after sex. I like it well enough, but it’s very relationshippy. We both climbed into our beds and he teased me about how he usually sleeps with both comforters and he might come steal mine. We talked across beds for a while and he sleepily complimented me on the fact that I was smart.
“I dig you,” he said. I laughed, and there was a silence. “Are you sure you don’t want to come sleep in my bed?”
I’m sure he couldn’t see my raised eyebrow, but he could definitely hear the smirk in my voice. “I thought you didn’t want me there. Missing your post-coital cuddling?”
“No, no,” he said, “Just, you know, you smell really nice.” A pause. Then, as an afterthought, ”And I want that comforter.”
I ended up climbing into bed next to him, comforter and all. The snuggling was quick before we both rolled over and fell asleep.
[I hate to break this into FOUR posts, but I'd like to get this one out, so Part Four - The Morning After will have to wait until later...]
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