Hot City Break #2

Part Two.

"So, here we are" you said, with another sexy wink and a pinch of my bum. "We are indeed" I replied, returning the wink - but not the bum pinch!

I removed my jacket and placed it over the gilt edged chair near the walk-in wardrobe. A strong, commercial chair, purposely made for hotels and such. I've always had a thing for fucking on a chair and this one looked like it would last a ride!

You seemed strangely flustered - as if we were meeting for the first time again. Perhaps you had Jet Lag or had forgotten to finish an important work project? I understood, having only just made it to my own flight that morning. I walked over and laughed into your ear. "Is it hot in here or am I just dripping?" With that I pulled you towards me, kissed you and suggested you join me in the Wet Room.

We eagerly undressed each other. You kissing my neck and shoulders, licking my nipples and tracing my public mound with a teasing forefinger. I stroked your arms. As your shirt fell to the floor and I momentarily nuzzled into your chest. A place I felt both safe and turned on at the same time. My nails lightly scratched over your nipples and you sighed. A verbal surrender to promised pleasure.

Our clothes strewn, we entered the Wet Room. Light Grey, Marble Tiles with small, Turkish Roses adorned the walls, "Just like a row of pink, pussies", you said. "You wish!" my reply.

We kissed for a few minutes then looked around for a water source - a large Rainfall Shower Head was above us plus a Hand Held Shower Head on the side wall, for those hard to reach places. My shower head of choice when travelling alone!

I tied up my hair and turned on the mixer tap and started washing your body. Your shoulders and arms your hands, chest and navel, your groin and of course, your cock. Oh how it loved my cleansing, pre fuck strokes - standing upright, eager to greet each one. I knelt down and started teasing the tip of your cock with my lips as I gently soaped your balls.

Now that your cock was shiny and clean I wanted to taste you. I started to lick along its length, down that throbbing vein and then its girth. Then I took your cock into my mouth and worked it as any dedicated lover should. My hands slid around to your buns, that Astanga Yoga Course had certainly paid off - they were firm and strong. I slid a finger down your arse crack, then up, then down again. You squirmed, wanting my finger to delve further - but not now. My mouth released your cock with a puckering noise and I kissed the tip, as if sending it on its way.

I lay down on the marble bench that ran parallel to the shower area's wall; remembering that original Turkish Wet Rooms/Hamams were built for leisure as much as ablution. As expected, I lay on my stomach - you knew I loved my back washed first. The Rose scented body wash took me back to our time in Istanbul. Both of us in the Hamam, both horny but separated. Such an erotic venue yet segregated for modesty. The echoing sounds of running water, cloths being slapped against bare skin and naked flesh everywhere you looked.

We couldn't leave there fast enough once we'd politely drank the complimentary Apple Tea and written in the Visitors' Book. Laughing to myself, as you washed my shoulders, I remembered you kneeling between my legs as the Imam called for afternoon prayers. I suppose you were worshipping, in your own way but it wasn't Mecca you were facing!

Back to real time, you washed my back, tenderly at first, then the loofah released the last ounces of stress as it scrubbed my tense shoulder blades. Your soapy hands then washed me from head to toe, only allowing me to turn over once you had ensured I was totally clean. You took a soft, wash cloth and trickled warm water across my decolletage, then onto my right breast, licking the droplets off the areola and lightly biting the nipple. I instinctively raised my knees anticipating how wet I now was.

But you made me wait - your self control fuelled by the fact we had all weekend. Two nights in a strange city where no one knew us but you never knew who we might get to know.

Your fingers traced a line down between my breasts as you continued to lick and bite my nipples, erect like sexually-charged bullets. A hand slid down to my pubic mound which you cupped before slipping a finger in, confirming my clit was as swollen as you'd hoped for. Further, further, your fingers explored my Pussy and as two entered me I squeezed them and caught my breath. I was already so close to coming, your fingers working me, already knowing each spot, as if you had an inbuilt Labial Google Maps App! Your thumb on my clit as you fingered-fucked me...

I've always been attracted to men with good hands - attractive, strong hands. Square hands with long fingers and clean nails. Hands that can be as creative as productive, as caring as punishing. There would be no punishment this weekend - it was all about pleasure. Mutual pleasure.

To be continued...

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