Pure smut, this one! Be warned....
Business taking me unexpectedly to New York, I arrive at the my very trendy downtown hotel to be warmly greeted by the young doorman who reluctantly accepts my assertion that I can manage my single overnight bag myself, and directs me towards the underlit metal stairs leading to the first floor and reception. I follow the booming base beat of the music which habitually floods the bar area next to it in the evening, looking forward to a long hot shower after my journey and an equally long cold New York vodka martini on the rocks. Good looking young men greet me politely as they pass me on the steps, their black suits and black T-shirts marking them out as hotel employees, and I admire the scenery, thinking that I'm going to enjoy it here.
Reception is staffed by more good looking boys and girls, but my eyes are drawn to what must be a security guy going by the ear-piece I can see nestling in his well-shaped ear, standing back in the shadows to one side of the dimly lit area. His dark grey suit barely disguises the muscular physique, which I can tell must be impressive by the way the black T-shirt he wears underneath clings to his chest, and his blue eyes scan the area continuously.
I check in and go up to my room, but the darn keycard doesn't work so I have to go back down to reception. They say they'll send someone from security to help me and to go wait by my room. I'm trying the card again when I hear a whisper of noise behind me and I turn round to find myself nose to a muscular black-clad chest. Squeaking with surprise I back up a bit and look up to see a pair of brilliant blue eyes looking at me appraisingly, crooked half-dimpled smile coming and going on the full seductive lips. In a soft sibilant oh so sexy accent he asks me if he can help, and speechlessly I hand over my keycard, watching his cat-like movements as he tries the card again and again. On about the tenth go the little red light turns green and he opens the door with a flourish, the smile coming on full force as he picks up my bag and holds the door open for me. Making a comment about the benefits of good old-fashioned doorlocks and keys he stands aside to let me pass, but I can't do so without brushing against him on the way in.
The fleeting contact with the solid, toned muscles of his torso raises goosebumps of excitement all over me, and my slight intake of breath seems to amuse him a little. Flustered, I watch him carry my bag in and set it on the bed, thanking him over-profusely for his trouble, wondering if I should tip him or what. Or what seems like the better option right about then, but I restrain myself as he informs me his name is Chris and that if I have any more problems with the recalcitrant card I should call reception and ask for him. Am I imagining things, or is that a come-on....? No, couldn't be. His hand brushes mine as he hands me back the keycard and with a last look from the blue eyes, and a grin he leaves me, breathlessly wondering how quickly I can lock myself out again......
The next morning I go down to the restaurant for breakfast, and return to my room to pick up my briefcase so I can head on out to my meetings. And would you believe it? That darn keycard is playing up again, so I go to reception andn - surprise, surprise - they tell me to go back and wait for the security guy again. I'm rounding the corner to get to the cul-de-sac passage that leads to my room when a noise behind me has me glancing back to see my cute blue-eyed security guard from the day before coming kinda surreptitiously out of a room back down the corridor, pausing to speak closely and quietly to the dark-haired man whose room it obviously is. My heart sinks a little, though in this city I really shouldn't be surprised - all the cute good-looking guys are gay, after all....
I duck quickly round the corner so he doesn't see me, and try the keycard again, half expecting the soft footsteps that I can now hear approaching me from behind. Then everything seems to happen at once - the little green light on my doorlock comes on as I hear a door opening somewhere ahead of me. Someone shouts a warning, there's a sudden loud report from way too close, and a warm solid weight collides with me, arms wrapping around me to bundle me bodily through my now open door and push me to the floor, pressing down against me most disconcertingly....
For a moment I am too stunned to realise what's happened, shock freezing me and leaving me unable to move, my eyes still screwed shut in fright. But the gentle whisper of breath on my neck and the solid but pliant warmth moulded to the length of my body melt my fear and I open my eyes to find myself with an up close and personal view of a long neck leading up to firm jawline which in turn leads to a pair of full, infinitely kissable lips. I find my hands had instinctively reached to grab hold of him as we fell, and the muscles of his lower back twitch intriguingly under my grip. I raise my eyes to his, catching a slightly distant look in the blue eyes which is explained by the buzz of voices I can hear coming from the ear-piece he wears. But then he relaxes and focusses on me, the intensity of his gaze and the sibilance of his soft accent as he asks if I'm OK doing strange things to my insides. I find myself inexplicably gripping him tighter as I nod, and am rewarded with a most gratifying sensation right around upper thigh level... Funny that - there I was thinking that the only weapon he was carrying was the gun I can now see he has in his hand....
His eyes widen slightly, the pupils flaring as he stares back at me appraisingly, one side of his mouth lifting in the beginnings of a lop-sided grin. His ear-piece buzzes again and I see him concentrate on the words I can't hear before his grin fades a little. He lowers his head to bring his mouth level with my ear, his lips close enough to tickle the sensitive flesh as he whispers that we need to stay still, not make a sound, that the bad guys have taken over this end of the floor and we don't want them to know we're here. I try to suppress the shiver that runs though me, finding myself mesmerised by the soft short hair on the back of his head right in front of my eyes, and driven by a desperate desire to lick at the warm skin at the angle of his jaw. He obviously mistakes my quivering for fear, whispering that it's OK, he'll take care of me, and I wonder what he'd say if I told him it was caused by his closeness. I take the opportunity to tighten my grip anyway, smoothing my hands up under his jacket to work across the muscled planes of his back, hugging him even closer to me as if needing the reassurance of his protection.
His reaction is pulsatingly obvious and immediate, and I hear the breath catch slightly in his throat as he raises his head to look down at me again, his hips pressing back automatically against my own unconscious movements at the feel of the rising evidence of his excitement. His lips are millimetres from mine, and there is nothing I can do but lift my head that tiny distance to taste their fullness, intoxicated by his proximity and the subtle masculine scent of him....
…for a brief second, as my lips touch his, I feel him tense preparatory to pulling away. But in that brief second my tongue has already flicked out to tease the corner of his mobile mouth, running lightly along the smoothness of his deliciously full lower lip, my fingers probing lightly into the firm flesh beneath the thin fabric. His tension takes on a new dimension and suddenly his mouth has captured mine, tongue forcing entrance between the barriers of lips and teeth to explore freely. With a stifled groan he slides his hands underneath me, abandoning his gun in the process, using his body weight to roll us over so that I'm lying on top of him, and holding me so close I can feel every ripple of his impressively muscled torso as he moves. I try to voice my displeasure at losing contact with the taut well-formed butt I had just begun to explore, but his kisses have become so intense I'm rendered mute by them - which, remembering his earlier warnings that we should remain silent, I suspect is the plan.
The fear of the danger lurking so closely outside the door acts as an aphrodisiac, the adrenaline running through me converting itself instantly to liquid fire that floods sparking through my veins. His hands have started roaming over my body, kneading, caressing, sliding up under my jumper, the warmth of their touch creating ripples of pleasure as they go. His lips leave mine to slide along my jaw, nibbling and licking at my neck on his way to my earlobe, and I quiver in delight at his soft breath playing on my skin. I swear he's smiling as he whispers softly in my ear, "Don't forget, gotta keep quiet - don't want them to know we're here," before lowering his mouth to my neck again. And it's all I can do not to groan out loud at the effect his teeth and tongue are having, counterpointed by the flickering fire of his fingers brushing lightly up my spine to work clandestinely at the catch of my bra....
…My own hands are doing a little travelling of their own, slipping to his sides and finding a way up under the black T-shirt, pushing the material with me as I meander lingeringly up the smooth firm flesh, feeling him quiver just slightly as my fingers find sensitive spots. I shift slightly to allow him to push my jumper up too, and I do some quivering of my own as the heated skin of my stomach meets the equally warm skin of his abdomen, biting my lip to stop myself moaning out loud.
I realise his other hand has moved again, sliding down across my hip to survey the nylon-clad expanse of my upper thigh under the skirt of my business suit, and I giggle silently at the sudden shock that seems to freeze him momentarily as he encounters the top of the stockings I habitually wear and the bare flesh that lies above. But my giggles are swept away by the sensations rushing through me as he brings his other hand down to join the first in its continuing exploration, both of them moving higher, crumpling the expensive fabric as they uncover what they are discovering beneath.
With a conscious effort I pull away, placing both hands flat on his chest and pushing myself upright to sit astride his hips, skirt bunching up around my bottom, breathing heavily as I look down at him. I can see his mouth open to protest, but grinning I put a finger to my lips and remind him of the need for silence. His blue eyes widen in fascination as I slide my finger into my mouth and bring it out again, wet and glistening. Leaning forward to push his T-shirt even further up, I use my finger-tip to trace a path from the hollow of his throat down his breastbone, diverting just slightly to circle his pale erect nipples before returning to the downward route I have chosen, watching him watching me as I wander across the ridged muscles of his abs, his breath catching in his throat again. His eyes roll slightly in his head, and he catches that full lower lip between his teeth as I reach and circumnavigate his navel before coming to a halt just above the button of his pants, watching mesmerised as the front of said item of clothing lifts and strains in a most satisfying manner. And I have to say, I'm having some problems with my own breathing as I grasp the magnitude of what he's keeping captive there…
His hands move suddenly to grasp my waist, sliding up my body as if in retaliation and taking my jumper and bra with them, pulling them over my head and discarding them behind him. I shiver at the sudden contact with cool air, goosebumps rising on my flesh and my nipples tightening, but the brief chill turns to shivers of pleasure as his fingers move smoothly across my skin, cupping my breasts and rubbing his thumbs across their hard peaks, teasing, twisting, awakening them even further and sending ribbons of fire shooting through me to where my groin presses against him. I grind my hips unconsciously, his reaction only fanning the flames higher, his eyes staring up at me hungrily. With trembling fingers I unbutton and unzip, pulling away the veiling material to free him from captivity, gazing in speechless admiration at what is revealed, reaching tentative fingers to touch, stroke, caress, revelling in the rearing response the contact evokes.
I can see how much he wants to groan out loud, his teeth clenching at the tension building up inside him, but instead he reaches to grip my arms, pulling me to him and rolling us over so that he's lying on top of me again, thighs pushing mine apart, his hardness pressing against me, throbbing, pulsing with a life of its own. I shove his jacket down over his shoulders and scrabble at his T-shirt, wanting to feel his warmth against my naked skin, and he lifts himself away to look down at me, passion and desire clear in his eyes as he strips away the offending items before leaning over me again, lips and tongue blazing an incendiary trail to match the one I had traversed over him. The sensations are so intense I'm close to screaming myself by the time he reaches my belly and pauses there, but I'm aware enough to feel his hands continue, sliding on down, stripping away my underwear and leaving me open before him, wet and waiting…
Through lust-filled eyes I see him kneeling over me, muscles bunching and flexing in that magnificent torso, chest heaving, deep blue gaze running over my body, his need clearly visible, rock-hard and breath-takingly proportioned. But I see his eyes slide away as that buzz comes again from the ear-piece he has tenaciously retained, and I tense in frustration at the thought we're about to be saved. After a few moments, though, his attention returns to me again, and a wicked boyish grin spreads across his face as he rocks forward to support himself on his hands, lowering himself to press his body inch by lingering inch against the quivering mess I've become. His lips ghost over the over-sensitised skin of my neck to my ear again and, in the throatiest of whispers that does nothing to lessen the problem, he tells me they're going to try something outside, so we should expect fireworks…
He lifts his head again, grin still in place, and I try to smile back, reckoning I'm already experiencing enough fireworks for at least ten Fourth of July's. But the feel of him nudging hot and demanding against my heated wetness tells me he's about to add to the display. Parting my thighs wider to allow him access, sliding my hands down across his powerful, sweat-damp back to grip the firmness of his butt and pull him to me, I surrender myself to the incredible sensations rushing through me as he thrusts slowly but inexorably on to fill me completely. His face is now serious, eyes watching mine intently as he pauses there, seeing and enjoying the effect he is having on me. I bring my legs up to loop around his tight hips, drawing him in as close as possible, giving him tacit permission to continue, and with a muted groan that vibrates through me as his lips meet mine again and silence the sounds of my own enjoyment which are struggling to escape me, he starts to move against me, leisurely at first but building in speed and power until the frictioning becomes too much and the fireworks finally explode inside me with a coruscation of colour and sound I can barely contain.
And it seems that is the moment for fireworks, for outside our frenzied passion-filled cocoon I vaguely hear more explosions of sound and we can both at last abandon our vow of silence and permit ourselves the release of giving voice to the almost unbearable pleasure we are experiencing, safe in the knowledge it will be disguised by the noises outside.
For long moments after everything has gone quiet - both internally and externally - we lie motionless, panting for breath, savouring the closeness of the encounter. But the voices shouting out in the corridor rouse us, and with deep regret I feel him pull away. With a crooked, rather shy grin he leans in to kiss me lingeringly again before reaching for my clothes and handing them to me. I smile back, feeling my heart lurch as I see the business-like look that washes over his face at whatever he's hearing in his ear. With resignation, I climb to my feet and move across the room to leave him to sort himself out in peace.
A knock comes at the door just as I'm straightening my jumper and, fully clothed again, I turn to see him moving towards it, his own clothes now restored to their proper state and his gun in his hand.
"Yes?" he calls softly, and whatever answer he gets must tell him the coast is clear because he tucks his gun in the waistband at the back of his pants - giving me one last glimpse of that fabulous butt in the process - before he opens it to reveal the dark-haired man I had seen earlier. Well, at least that was one New York urban myth shattered, I think wryly.
The man pushes past him into the room asking in a very British accent if we're alright, looking curiously at me, to which Chris responds that we're fine, wanting to know in return if everything is OK out there. They talk quietly for a few moments before they turn back to me again. Chris stoops to pick something up which he holds out to me and taking a deep breath I walk over to him, smiling at the obvious intrigued expression in the Englishman's eyes. With a grin he says he hopes I wasn't too frightened, and asks if we managed to amuse ourselves OK. Straight-faced I assure him that his friend had taken very good care of me, making sure I had no time to be scared or bored, and I am somewhat gratified to see what looks like a flush of colour spreading across Chris' face. He covers it by handing me my keycard which I'd obviously dropped in the earlier excitement, suggesting I might need it later but recommending I stay in my room for a while until they'd cleared up outside. Since I'm now too late for my meeting, and confess I could probably use a shower, that seems a reasonable course of action, and I nod my agreement
With a final appraising look in my direction the dark-haired man turns to leave, and I automatically reach to hold the door open for him as he passes through. Chris goes to follow but at the last moment he ducks back, letting the door swing almost closed while he plants a last kiss on my lips. His voice says, loud enough to carry, that he'll drop by later on to check I'm OK, but as the door finally closes behind him I'm left with the certain knowledge that the message his eyes were sending was that he'd be dropping by for a whole lot more…
THE END
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