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I met him out in the lobby of the Constante Grande. He was tall, six-foot, average frame for a man, I guess, with rich tanned skin and smoldering brown eyes, an aquiline face like a hawk, and well-cut, short black hair with long bangs to loop in a curve past his eyes. He looked very European, as were his clothes, those consisting of a black turtleneck with an open black vest-jacket, and his dark and handsome look was completed by black slacks held up by a thin, expensive-looking black belt with a narrow gold buckle. On his feet were black socks and a pair of black Altimari’s, expensive special-order and Italian made dress shoes, something to add to his allure and appeal. He looked to be in his late twenties, possibly early thirties, but to this day I do not know how old he actually was.
I, myself, was nothing special. I’d just turned twenty-one a month ago, a rite of passage for me, that legal drinking age in this country that we crawl toward when we’re teenagers. I was five-six, thin, between one-twenty-six and one hundred and thirty pounds most of the time, but that fluctuated depending upon the time of the year and my mood. I had straight hair in a soft brown hue that fell to my shoulders, and this framed a pixie face with hazel eyes, so I guess I was more ‘cute’ than any other description. I had small breasts, only a B-cup, and small hips, not something for men to really drool over. As I said, I was nothing special.
When I met him there in the lobby, I was still wearing my university pullover, a thick dark-green shirt with long sleeves, because the hotel was chilly in general due to their constant air-conditioning. I had on my nice tan slacks, salmon-pink crew socks, and brown dress shoes, an off-color combination of cheap clothes that made me look out of place here in the Constante Grande, which I was. I was not wearing a bra, which I probably should have, considering my small nipples were hard due to the colder air in here.
I was not particularly worried about my looks. I had just laid down ten-thousand for the hotel room for only one night, and I had spent a little over fifteen-thousand for this man I was about to meet, my entire life savings wiped out in one sitting. That savings had been put together by myself, my parents, and my extended family, and I was grateful for it, if only for this night. Even though it had been meant for a different purpose, that purpose being a way to live after school was finished, I had spent it all now, because having it sit in a bank was a waste at this point.
It had been a frustrating process in finding these people. It had taken me two years of searching to do so, and I had been subject to background checks and doctor’s visits to show that I was both safe and clean as a client. They were secretive in their methods for obvious reasons. What we were doing was very illegal in most states, if not most countries.
Now I was here at the Constante Grande, and there he was, my purchase, and this made my heart beat fast just looking at him. He was definitely far out of my league, above me in station in every way…Still, I paid for him, so he was mine for the moment, for one single night.
“Are you Stephen?” I asked as I approached him.
In truth, he could have been anyone. I was simply hopeful that he was the agent that had been sent. Very hopeful. I had picked him out, and he looked like his profile, but I still had the uneasy thought that I had been duped. People almost never looked like their profiles.
He gave me an odd glance, his smoldering eyes running over my out-of-place figure in this place of opulence, his line of gaze starting at my shoes to run up to the top of my head.
“Miss Jodie Welsh?” he asked.
He had no accent. He was American, though he looked European, but that didn’t matter to me.
“Yes, Sir,” I said with a quick nod.
He pulled out his phone from his left vest pocket, briefly studied the flat black slab for a second, and then put it back in his pocket.
“Excellent,” he said with a quick smile. “I assume everything is in order here?”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied.
I gave a glance toward the front desk resting within this huge lobby and then turned toward the elevators.
“The room is paid for,” I said without looking at him, “but it’s on the fifteenth-floor.”
I turned back toward him, and he flashed me a professional smile and a nod.
“Excellent,” he replied. “Shall we?”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied.
We walked as a couple to the elevator, but I said nothing. I said nothing because we were as mismatched a pair as could possibly be, so it was embarrassing to walk with this man in this hotel, and I felt a little flushed, but the money was already spent, and he was here, so that was all there was to it. It was night outside, after eight, so at least there were not so many people down here in the lobby, those people all far above my station, anyway.
We walked into the elevator, and the bellhop, an older gentleman with greying hair dressed in a dapper student sex parties porno brown jacket, brown slacks, and a white dress shirt, asked us what floor. I told him the fifteenth, and we were on our way.
We arrived on my floor, and I made my way to 1505, unlocked the door, and ushered in my companion.
The room was more ‘pleasant’ than anything else. It had a king-size bed with white sheets covered with small blue-print flowers, a brown wooden base board and head between its ends, nothing fancy, exactly what I wanted. The room itself was decked in the feel of the mid to late eighteen-hundreds, an old and prairie look to it, but it sported modern conveniences such as a fridge, TV, and soft beige carpeting covering the floor. It even had a small wooden table with a wagon wheel for a stand, that wheel held up by a thick cross beam at its base. It had a balcony with another wagon wheel table upon the deck, that balcony the very reason I chose this room. The young woman at the front desk had told me this room was rarely used because of its style, and they had been thinking of remodeling it. They would definitely remodel it after I was done with it.
Stephen stood in the center of the room and nodded once.
“Pardon the intrusion upon your privacy,” he said in a gentle voice, “but you are not exactly the…type…of client we normally service. May I ask ‘why’ you decided to hire us? You are under no obligation to answer that, of course. I was only curious.”
“That’s okay,” I said, but I was a little nervous. “I was…uhh…’inspired’ by a short story.”
“Oh, really?” asked Stephen, sudden and clear interest in his voice. “And what would that be, if I might inquire?”
I was nervous about this. I didn’t really want to tell him, but I told him anyway.
“Yes,” I breathed out. “I was inspired by a story by Willa Cather called ‘Paul’s Case’. Have you read it?”
He gave me a deep and penetrating gaze as if he were staring right through me, right through my soul, and this lasted for an uncomfortable twenty seconds, twenty seconds where neither of us said anything. He gently shook his head no after that brief span of time, that brief moment that felt like an eternity to me.
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that piece of literature, Miss Welsh,” he said.
“That’s okay,” I said with a sad smile. “You don’t have to be. Let’s just say that I want to experience life first before I…I move on. I chose this room because I…I like the view.”
“I understand,” nodded Stephen.
He took in a short breath, spun a little in place, clasped his hands together, and looked around the room. He turned back toward me, and his thin lips turned up into a wide smile. He really was beautiful, far too gorgeous for someone like me, but I had already spent every penny I had ever saved on him, so…I was going through with this.
“So what would you like to do first?” he asked.
I had already thought intensely upon this long before this day had arrived. I had planned this for quite some time now, written short stories about it, and I wanted those stories to come true.
“I…I would like to take a bath,” I stammered in a nervous tenor.
He raised his left eyebrow and gave me a curious stare.
“A bath?” he asked.
“Y…Yes,” I stammered.
I took in a deep breath in order to calm down. My heart was beating as if it wanted to burst forth from my narrow chest and fly away on white wings. I needed to get my head on straight, so I breathed out and nodded once in growing confidence. I had paid for everything, I was here, and he was here, so it was time to do this.
“I’ve always wanted to take a bath with an…an attractive man,” I said. “It’s something on my list.”
“Of course, Miss Welsh,” said Stephen, and he gave me a slight bow.
We walked into the bathroom, and I was feeling that electric pulse all throughout my body. I was really, really nervous but excited for a number of reasons, but this time I did not attempt to calm myself down. This was what I had paid for, anyway.
The bathroom was a bright-white tiled rectangle, and there was a large porcelain tub at the back of it. There were various expensive soaps, bath tablets, and hair products on two small, white wooden shelves, along with loofas and brushes to complete the experience. There was a small, white wooden closet embedded in the wall where a number of white towels were kept, and a large, white wooden hamper next to that. Next to the sink was another small closet embedded in the wall, that one with hangers for our clothes. The tub itself was styled as one would see from an old black and white film, sleek porcelain in an oval with gold detail and even a gold faucet, something I could only have dreamed of in a romantic fantasy.
I looked over to see Stephen take off his black vest-jacket and hang it up in the clothes closet. I watched him undress, taking a keen interest in his bare chest as he pulled off his black turtle-neck. submissive cuckolds porno He had a smooth and tanned chest, no body hair to speak of, with small reddish-brown nipples and good muscle-tone beneath his firm skin. My breath came quickly in short bursts from my nostrils as I studied him, because this was the closest to heaven that I had ever been.
He turned, gave me a quick glance, and then held that gaze, paused as if I had hit a remote to freeze him in place.
“I…I want to watch you,” I stammered out. “I want to watch you undress.”
“Of course, Miss Welsh,” he replied with a courteous nod.
He slowly undressed. He took off his shoes without sitting, well-practiced in that standing feat, pulled off his socks, and then unbuckled. I sucked in a breath as he pulled off his slacks, and I gazed at the black silk briefs he wore, more specifically the ample bulge within them. He pulled down those briefs and put them up with his other clothes, turned, and stood before me, fully naked.
Stephen was as perfect a human specimen as any man could be. His body was hairless, no hair to speak of, even no pubic curls on his groin, and he displayed a portrait of athletic muscle that made him look as if he were molded from angelic clay. His penis was a little larger than average, but I’m not sure if my description of its size was accurate or not. I had only had sex once, and that was back when I was eighteen. I’d seen my fair share of porn during times when I’d needed to release my own frustrations, but I was not familiar with men in an up close and personal way. His penis was uncut, the foreskin hanging down to close in a small hole just below the tip, and his scrotum was spotless, no hair to show at all, not even the bumps of new fuzz upon its wrinkled skin.
“Shall I start the bath, Miss Welsh?” he asked.
“Y…Yes,” I said nervously. “Please. I’ll get undressed.”
“Of course, Miss Welsh,” he replied with a slight bow.
He turned on the water as I pulled off my top. My dark-green university shirt came off to reveal my bare chest, my own small brick-red nipples still hard from the chill in the air. I was very nervous undressing in front of a stranger, a man at that, a gorgeous man at that, but we were going to become much more acquainted soon, so I pushed my reluctance down and stripped.
I had shaved down below, though I normally did not. This occasion was special, very special, and I wanted to look my best, especially for Stephen. I had selected him from a long list of agents, so he was mine for now, and I needed to look my best, even if that best was not much.
He filled the tub with hot water, and I selected two blue bath tablets to drop into the clear liquid in order to release their pleasing fragrance as we bathed. I took a loofa and a large bar of white soap and stepped into the bath with him, the fingers of his left hand lightly gripping the fingers of my right as he led me in.
He studied me briefly before sitting down at the head of the tub near the faucet, and I turned red under his gaze. He was a professional of the highest order, however, so he said nothing about my crimson hue. I sat down at the other end, and our bare legs brushed against each other as we settled into comfortable positions.
“So you enjoy literature, Miss Welsh?” he asked.
It was his relaxed and easy manner that soothed my nerves. He spoke to me as a gentleman and without judgement, knowing full well that I did not belong here, not here with him or this hotel, especially as young and as outside of his station as I was.
“Yes,” I replied. “I read a lot. I was never into the things that most people are…I guess…I guess books have always been my comfort.”
“Excellent,” said Stephen. “It’s refreshing to see something new in my experiences. Please…continue. I would like to hear about your interest in literature.”
“I do like to read,” I continued, “but I also like to write. I’ve read every genre, but I prefer romance, and I guess that’s stereotypical for a girl my age, but I’ve read pretty much everything. I broadened my genre interest just so I could be a better writer. I’ve written all kinds of short stories, though I haven’t written anything of extended length…nothing past twenty pages or more.”
“I see,” replied Stephen. “And what would some of those stories entail?”
“A little of everything,” I breathed. “I…I know this may sound…low-class, but…I also like reading and writing erotic fiction. I’ve read a lot of that and even posted some of it online.”
“There is nothing wrong with that, Miss Welsh,” nodded Stephen. “I find that such fiction enhances the actual experience, and erotic experience is something I am well acquainted with.”
I grew hot under my skin. Yes, experience was definitely the reason I had chosen Stephen.
“I…I wanted to thank you for coming here,” I said nervously. “For meeting me. I know I’m not the type of client you normally get. The taboo heat porno agency even let me…let me have you at a reduced rate. I really hope you’re not insulted by this. I…don’t want to offend you because I couldn’t pay the original price.”
He gently shook his head no and gave me a warm smile.
“Oh, no, Miss Welsh,” he said softly. “It is my pleasure. Your presence is more than welcome. I wish we had more like you, to be honest.”
“Th…Thank you,” I stammered out.
We bathed after that, engaging in some light conversation, but we did not stay in long enough for the water to get cold. Stephen bathed me with the loofa and soap, though we did not wash our hair. I was shaking as he bathed me, I was that nervous, but he was more than a professional, and he did not call me out on my green and inexperienced behavior.
We dried off with the towels and wrapped ourselves with new ones after our bath was completed, and the moment had come for me to request something more. I did not feel like eating, so no room service had been called in advance…I was too nervous for that…No. It was time for something more.
We stood there wrapped in our white towels, and Stephen asked me what was next.
“What would you like to do now, Miss Welsh?” he asked.
My breath caught in my throat. It was time.
“I…I want you to carry me…” I stammered. “Please carry me naked to the bed. Both of us naked…It’s symbolic…like carrying me over the threshold. I know that sounds strange…”
“Not at all, Miss Welsh,” bowed Stephen. “It’s my pleasure.”
I dropped my towel as he dropped his. I stepped forward as he picked me up with ease, cradling my naked warmth to his as he opened the door and carefully stepped out into the main room. He gently carried me to the bed, both of us fully nude, and gingerly laid me down upon the white print sheets.
“Please, lay down next to me,” I breathed.
My voice was getting lower, huskier. I couldn’t help it. It was time.
“Of course,” nodded Stephen.
I moved over to the left side of the bed as he laid down next to me. I stared into his deep brown eyes and took in a couple of heavy breaths. My bottom was twitching as I grew wet, and even though I tried to contain that excitement, it was proving to be very difficult.
I didn’t say a word as I moved around to his legs and motioned for him to lie prone in the center of the bed. I sat up on my knees between his legs, leaned down, and took his penis into my mouth. I held it softly in my right hand as I licked down into the folds of his foreskin, and his penis quickly hardened between my soft lips.
I sucked gently up and down his firm, erect shaft and then licked the light salt of his precum from the open tip of his glans. I’d only had sex one time before, but I’d seen plenty of porn, read and wrote plenty of erotic fiction, so I figured I knew what to do. I suppose all of that was training for me, training for this single moment in time, and I was going to give it my best.
I reached down with my right hand and gave my large clitoris a soft stroke. My clitoris was a little larger than I wished it was, a slightly hitched bulb beneath the folds of my own angular hood, but it was my own magical pleasure organ, so I stroked it in a wide and gentle circle, feeling the sticky and rich wetness of my own cream between my fingers as I did. Yes…it was time.
I straddled him as I pulled up on his uncut penis, lowered myself, and inserted it into my wet and waiting hole. I closed my eyes and bit my lower lip as I sank down onto him, because it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before, and that was the very reason I was here, to experience this moment and savor it like a fine wine.
“Unnnn…” I moaned out.
I leaned down and sucked gently upon his left reddish-brown nipple, running my hands along the muscles of his perfect chest, my right-hand fingers coating that perfect skin with some of my own fluids. I sat up and rubbed back and forth upon him, stroking my bulb on his pubic bone as I did, feeling that physical pleasure run up and through me as I pinched both of my small brick-red nipples, pulling them a little to feel that slight, delicious pain.
I ran my hands down the bare skin of my own belly and then placed them on the bed on each side of his muscular chest. I pulled up on his penis, slid back down it, pulled up, slid down, and I got into a rhythm as my bare bottom slapped upon his bald and wet groin over and over again. This was my own little piece of heaven at that moment, something I’d only written about, something I’d only fantasized about as I had stroked myself in front of my laptop to sensual porn, and now I was living it, living it this one time, and I was never going to forget this feeling, this feeling of absolute glory within me.
I leaned down as I rubbed against him, kissed him on the lips as I held his beautiful face in my slender hands. My mouth was clean, brushed, and minted, and his mouth held the taste of wintergreen as we kissed, my tongue sliding over his as I rubbed myself against his pubic bone. I was sticky and wet between my legs, an amount of my own fluids I was not used to, because this was a fantasy come true, and Stephen was someone who looked as if he had stepped right off the cover of one of my romances.
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