I tossed a fifty onto the fireplace table for Chuck who was engrossed in the CNN roll on the silent TV and led her to the stairs. The Belmont was square and squat and three stories tall. A local ordinance forbade building any higher than that in our picturesque little theatre town. Elevators at the front left from the street, main desk and offices to the right and in the back past the dingy bar some all but forgotten stairs that went up to the rooms. I had worked catering crew here a couple of times so I knew my way around. Just as we rounded the landing toward the second flight, I reached for her hand, spun her gently around and pulled her to me. She was poised on the first step up so we were nose to nose. I had to kiss this woman immediately. It was a hunger. And kiss we did. If it had been the movies, the violins would have started just then, followed by the cellos and the French horns, and then the relentless bassoons. Her lips were soft and firm and full and perfect against mine. I felt the sweet pressure of her breasts. I caught her unawares, about to speak I think, because her mouth was open somewhat when I planted mine. A brief press and a brief pull back to reseat. I put my hand to her cheek and leaned in harder. This time I felt her tongue on mine. Soft and wet and warm and tasting of Stinger. We held that for a count of ten or two thousand and I released her, sucking gently on her bottom lip as I withdrew. I had never been kissed up to that point in my life. Never will be again. My friends, Douglas. Her voice was soft, insistent. She took my hand in hers and turned to pull me up the steps. I held my ground. With her some three or fours steps above me, her hand extended but still linked in mine, I pulled to slow and stop her. Sandy. Wait. Well be more comfortable in my room. And more private. She pulled again, laughing. No, wait. I would not be deterred. I walked up a step or two past her and pulled her up to the next landing. I grabbed her then and kissed her hard and fierce. I pushed her up against the wall. One hand down the smooth soft back of her to the swell of her rump. The other hand around the front to cup a perfect pillow of a breast and give it a gentle squeeze. I kissed her hard and fierce and she responded as such, one hand in my hair to hold me close, the other on my shoulder for balance. We were both breathing hard, unsteady, making rude little noises, smacks of lip and slaps of saliva. She sucked my tongue hard into her mouth. I felt a jolt like lightning. I may have moaned. We broke. I put my hands one on each shoulder pinning her to the wall and looked down at her. Her lips were wet. Red. Did I have some romantic overture for this delicate juncture? Something from Noel Coward or Shakespeare or even Bogie? No! Best I could come up with was; Ive been thinking of doing that since I first saw you. I believe you, she laughed. I guess thats why you messed up my dinner order. She leaned in to kiss me again. This time it was her mouth doing the kissing, her hands on my chest holding me upright against the wall. Come on, Mister. I dont want to be on the front page of the local paper with my new boyfriend. She turned and trotted up the stairs, yellow sundress hem bouncing behind her. She giggled. I was paralyzed. Screwed up her dinner order! No way! Even at this juncture, my waiter vanity flared. New boyfriend! Had she called me her boyfriend? My cock was so hard a cat couldnt have scratched it. I chased her best as I could in my condition.
Posted on: Sat, 08 Mar 2014 01:54:21 +0000
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