Three in Harrisburg
Introduction:
Some women get exactly what they ask for
The day had been nonde, even boring, when I strolled across the hotel lobby after having had dinner nearby with a business prospect. With a few already in me, I decided on a simple nightcap featuring people-watching. The place wasn’t crowded at 9:30, and I found a reasonably comfortable chair which afforded a complete view of an uncrowded room. A waitress at least ten years younger than anyone who was in the room took my order sleepily, but she delivered my drink promptly enough. As I raised my eyes to say thank you to her, I realized the bar itself was only five feet to my left. And so was the couple who had come after I had. They were seated on stools almost next to, but slightly behind, my chair. I was quickly at a height disadvantage, but at a clear height advantage to admire her legs—tanned, no stockings, and poking modestly from a bright yellow sundress. A summer sandal dangled from the crossed leg. She spied my evaluation and smiled with beautiful teeth framed by a soft, pink shade of glossed lips.
Caught, I smiled back. But I noticed that he was smiling too. Strange. Certainly unusual.
“My apologies,” I offered moving my attention to each of their faces. “I didn’t mean to stare.”
“No offense taken,” she responded. “I always appreciate attention from a handsome man when my husband is present.” Her flirting continued, “I was actually appreciating my view of you. I’ve told my husband how handsome I think you are. In fact, he insisted we sit near you.”
“Well, thank you,” I said with a smile. And I returned my attentions to people-watching elsewhere as I plotted a quick retreat. I wasn’t so sure how I felt as a people-watcher being people-watched by a couple. I hit my drink often to be done and gone.
But suddenly the husband was standing across my small cocktail table, a partial light-colored drink in one hand and a fresh, dark colored drink in the other. From the smell of the darker one, I recognized the full glass as bourbon, all I ever drank.
Now, when a man hands another man a drink, his voice tends to be strong and friendly. Friends buy each other drinks with camaraderie. I expressed my thanks to this unsure man. His posture was slumped, his eyes down, and his voice gave him away.
“My wife, Angie, would like to join you. Would that be okay?” He didn’t choke on his words but he did stammer on them. It was very quiet—soft like a boy’s voice. When I had first glanced at him at the bar, his smile had been broad and sociable. But this was a different guy. Head down, unsure. He reminded me of a kid sent by his mom to apologize to a neighbor for breaking a window. But she saved his embarrassment as she appeared at my side. She took the other chair at the table, pulling it close alongside mine and taking her seat with great flair. But then she added to it when she spoke to him.
“Be a dear and get another chair for yourself, Robert, and sit across from us,” she directed him.
Two-person tables in a hotel cocktail lounge are not very big. By the time, he had gotten a chair for himself and slinked into it, he might as well have been in another zip code.
“I’d love to know your name so I can address you properly.” Her voice was almost begging. Considering the style with which she had handled my ogling a few moments ago, I found the transformation of her voice fascinating.
“Chris,” I told her.
“Christopher, let me explain. Robert and I were discussing you at the bar. We agreed to approach you about a little ‘scenario’ we enjoy occasionally. You see, Robert is rather well-known about Harrisburg. You could even say he is influential in the local community in his many leadership roles. People listen to him because of who he is. They almost pester him, trying to grab his ear and his attention for their own purposes.”
I paused to sip my drink, and she followed my lead with her own. When I put my glass down, she followed my lead and placed hers on a coaster to resume her matter-of-fact statements.
“And I don’t like his power. So, as I hinted, I occasionally like to take that power away from him. To humble him. To take something important from him. I make him give instead of just taking. I take me away from him; I make him give me to someone else. And I make him watch. He knows that if he interferes, I will threaten to out this little weirdness of ours and make it public. In the circles in which we move, I tell one other wife and it’s everywhere in this city in five hours. With that much to lose, Robert’s silence is assured and I get fucked like I want to be fucked—long, hard, and in the role I choose to play.”
She paused and I reached for my glass again, even if a little unsteadily. I held it up as if to admire it as I processed all this. She said nothing until I put the almost empty glass down. She was right on cue.
“Tonight I want to be an object. You may do everything you’d like to me. I won’t say ‘No’ to anything you want or any way you want to do it to me. We’ll get a room here in the hotel for me to change from this summer-appropriate outfit I’m wearing into something more appropriate to what I want to be tonight. So, are you willing, Christopher?”
I lengthened the pause as I thought about this. I sipped as I thought it through. She wanted to humble him, fulfill a fantasy role of her own, and walk back into her own accustomed life. I reached for my glass and emptied it. It wasn’t a decision I was making. It was how I was going to play my role.
“Bob,” I said. He had been silent the whole while she had talked with me. He looked up. His attempt to hide by looking at the top of my head was evident. “Get me another drink. I’ll tell you what to do when you’ve returned.
“Okay, Chris” he muttered.
“It’s Christopher to you, Bob. I corrected him. “Angela, would you like another?” And she smiled knowing I was in for their game.
While he was off on his errand, I asked her, “No limits? My lead while he just watches me treat you as you’ve described?”
“Yes. It’s what I want. And…no limits either. I’m very open for anything. And you can add anything to it as long as it pleases me and knocks him down. Don’t be mistaken, Christopher. This won’t hurt him. We’ll stay ‘happily ever after,’ but it will remind him by making him remember you and me together. I think you have all you need and all that you can handle. Just be your role.” It was one of the best summaries I had ever heard.
When Bob returned with my drink, I acknowledged him, but very matter-of-factly only. He took his seat. But I called him back sharply before he could take a seat. Having caught him off-guard, he scurried back.
“I want you to do something else. Angela is going to go to the Ladies Room. Wait outside for her. While she is in there, she is going to arouse herself to transfer her scent freshly to her panties. When she has completed that, she’ll remove them, hand them to you, and leave the restroom. Both of you will then return to my table. You will then hand her panties to me. Understand?”
“Yes, Christopher,” he said dutifully. It was given that Angela and I were about to have all the sexual fun, but it also became clear that Robert had something he wanted from his role, too. Angela virtually bolted from her seat.
“Follow me, Bob,” she almost sang in delight.
I nursed my bourbon while Angela and Bob were away. Angela had transformed. The poise and control were gone now. Before reseating herself, she stood before me as though asking permission before doing so. And Bob looked mortified! He simply didn’t know what to do. I motioned him to his chair. Neither of them offered a word. I took control.
“Bob, you have something of Angela’s for me?” I stated coldly.
“Yes, Christopher,” his voice almost a whisper.
“Hand them to me.” And he began to rise as though he were going to walk them to me.
“No, simply hand them across the table to me,” I instructed.
“Yes, sir,” he croaked reaching across the table. He held her panties tightly, trying desperately to hide them from view. The lace was evident where it spilled slightly from his desperate grasp.
I made no attempt to reach, instead forcing him to rise slightly from his seat as I took his wife’s panties from him. Then I drove the first spike into his heart by letting them slip from my fingers onto the table. I don’t know if anyone else was watching. Frankly…I didn’t care. But I did hear a gasp from Angela. As I pulled them across toward me, I made sure to pass them close-by Angela’s position at the table.
“Don’t be surprised, Angela. After all, it’s just an object,” I reminded her of her choice-of-words. Her eyes dropped in recollection of her stated desire, but she the upturned corners of her mouth didn’t escape my view.
I continued, “Leave now; get your room. Ready yourselves. Within forty minutes, I’ll expect you at my door. Room 601. Be sure your room is on a lower floor at the opposite end of the building so you’ll have a walk and an elevator ride to get to me. Bob, walk behind Angela. That way anyone you encounter will surely wonder what you two are up-to. When you arrive, use my key to let yourselves in. Bob, you hold the door. Angela, you follow. The presenter and his gift, so to speak. Here’s the key.”
I took my room key from my jacket pocket with my right hand and used my left to wrap it in her panties which I had held while I had been directing them. I then reached toward Bob who slipped the keycard from its satin sleeve and quickly into his pocket.
“Thank you, Christopher. I’ll have Angela to you in forty minutes.”
“You have your tasks. Be on your way.” I broke my stare from them and lifted my glass. And they were gone.
As I finished my fetched-glass, I looked around the room. My original waitress had apparently disappeared, the bartender was busy cleaning-up in hopes of getting to close early, and a lone couple danced a slow number on the portable wooden floor. What a strange place for such an encounter! But luck is luck. Sometimes you had it; sometimes you didn’t. Smiling and rising, I had it this night. I stopped at the front desk to get another key to my room. The disinterested clerk handed it to me, and I slipped it into my pocket with Angela’s panties. That brought a smile, and I headed for the privacy of the elevator for a quick whiff of her. With all the strangeness that had occurred, I began to anticipate what was ahead. I felt myself begin to harden.
A quick shower (though I took care the all the parts she would be so close to were scrubbed and fresh for her), a change of briefs, a re-arranging of some seating, and I glanced at my watch. I threw on a courtesy robe. They’d be here in five minutes. I allowed myself to speculate what Angela and Bob must be doing and discussing. I suspected that Angela directed anything between them. She wanted this. She had dived into her fantasy role and dragged Bob in its wake. I wondered about her “change of clothes.” I imagined their trip through the hotel to me. The knock came in three, and I heard the cardkey being slipped into its slot.
Bob’s sheepish look was priceless as he peeked his head through the barely opened door. “Are you here, Christopher? I have Angela for you,” he offered.
“Of course I am. Hold the door for Angela,” I shot back. And in she swept. Her original attitude was restored, but, oh, how the look had changed! A black business suit, black hose, and black heels with stacked toes accommodating the height of their spikes. The jacket featured two only buttons placed strategically to allow a peek at her belly below the bottom one and her cleavage above the top button. The mid-thigh skirt featured a well-positioned side slit which she managed well. Only when she offered out the slit side’s leg could I see the flesh above the thigh-high stocking. Her black hair tumbled to the jacket’s shoulder line, and her dark eyes blazed with her heat. The pink lips were now shining a burned red. With all that had happened downstairs in the bar, I had not realized just how beautiful she was. If this was an object, it was on the edge of art.
I brought myself back quickly and directed Bob to the desk chair. “Sit there and don’t move unless I tell you otherwise. When I do–and I will–ask no questions. Just do as I say. You’ll set a good example for Angela.”
Then I focused on her. “Angela, you are my gift. I intend to enjoy my gift. Understood?” I asked her gently.
“Yes, Christopher,” she answered dutifully.
“Now, let me admire the wrapping. Move for me.”
And she began to move slowly taking steps away and toward me with a gentle sway and slight turns to offer different angles of herself. After a few movements like this, she picked a small area and stopped her steps. But not the movements; she accelerated those and accentuated them. Her hips cocked and rotated. Her back arched as she turned her head to shake her hair and push her breasts forward. Then her hands began tracing her curves. I admired that she never stopped staring directly at me and changing the rake of her lips into different expressions. We were both enjoying our teasing. Bob said nothing.
“Come here, Bob. Stand at arm’s length from Angela, no closer. Angela, extend your arm so Bob will know his boundary.” She did and Bob moved toward her extended fingers to his given limit. “Very good. Now back away a bit.” And he did. “Time to unwrap you, Angela. Unfasten the buttons of your jacket.”
“Which one should I unbutton first, Christopher?” she asked coyly.
“Ladies choice,” I said in an act of mercy.
She selected the top one. I’m anxious for you to see my bra. I hope you like it?” she admitted freely with her tease voice. The lace began to reveal itself. “Do you like it? It’s so frail that I’d only wear it for a real man’s eyes.” I almost felt Bob’s wince.
“It shows promise. Unbutton the bottom one and pull back your shoulders so I can see more of it. The hardness of my voice surprised me.
She responded. The tight fit of the jacket with her shoulders drawn back hard exposed her breasts pushing proud against the beautiful pattern of the lace. It was black although I could see the darkness of her large nipples through its pattern.
“Very, very nice choice,” I congratulated her. “I love it,” I admitted. And I did. It was flimsy but accented the size of Angela’s breasts and her cleavage very nicely.
“Bob, Angela’s about to remove her jacket. Take it and hang it in the closet for her. Remove it, Angela.”
Each strap of her bra was two strands of cord spaced wide to her shoulders and disappeared under the fall of her hair. As Bob hustled to hang her jacket, I rose from my chair for the first time since they had presented themselves. Angela must have noticed as she reacted to my movement and my approach to her. I walked slowly behind her touching her for the first time as I slid fingers under the clasp of her bra. I was careful to keep my touch minimal by using just three fingers. The feel of the lace was delicate as I positioned them to easily unfasten the single hook holding it. Then I used the small finger of each of my hands to trace up the straps toward her shoulders where I raised them. Lifted slightly, the bra slid it down her arms and away from her entirely. My touch remained minimal, and with her bra in-hand, I passed it to Bob who had just returned from the closet to his appointed location.
“Bob, put Angela’s beautiful bra on the desk and return to your chair there. I’ll call you when I need you next.” Away he went.
Circling around her to face her, I took in the view—round, very firm, the large nipples in full sight. A slight hardness in each was evident. “Open, Angela,” and I moved my fingers toward her mouth. “Tongue, please.” It was large and thick. I pressed it with the thumb and forefinger of one hand and then the other. I transferred her saliva to the tip of each breast, squeezed lightly, and began rubbing my fingers together. The effect was immediate as I felt them harden and extend. I kept the left hand there, rubbing gently, while my right hand went to Angela’s waist and unbuttoned her skirt. Then I returned to my chair and called to Bob.
“Bob, Angela is going to remove her skirt and you are going to hang that in the closet for her.” He simply obeyed me in obedience to Angela. “Then you’re back to your place again. Understood?” I heard his meek reply but could not distinguish his words.
When I returned my attention to Angela, her eyes were fixed on me waiting for my voice. Much as my eyes were enjoying her exposed breasts, I instructed her to turn her back to me.
“Take the skirt off—slowly.” The tightness of its fit made her wiggle to escape it even after the winding of the zipper going down had stopped. As it passed the width of her hips, I told her, “Let it drop and step out, then hand it to Bob.” She reached down to pick-up the skirt for him. I watched the strand of her matching string, a black angle as her gorgeous ass tilted. Both exposed cheeks showed high cut tan marks from a swimsuit, but they were faint. Bob had pivoted from the closet to return to his place. His only view was of Angela facing him in her g-string and thigh-high stockings. I was absolutely sure she was not smiling at her husband.
“Stop there, Bob. Angela, spread your legs a little farther apart.” She did with no hesitation. “Just a little more, please.” Again, no hesitation. “Now, bend slightly from your waist and arch your back. Put your hands on your knees and look at Bob.”
When she did, he dropped his eyes to the floor.
“Bob! I’m surprised. This is your gift to me. Don’t you think it’s beautiful? I do. Take your chair now while I finish unwrapping. I’m anxious play with it.”
Bob could just watch for a while. Time for me to concentrate on this beautiful woman who remained with legs spread, hands on her slightly-bent knees. My robe went, but I held the sash, tossing it onto the bed, reserving it for possible future use. Her smile added to my growing erection. When she licked her lips and dropped on all-fours, it shifted to a higher gear. By the time she slowly crawled across the six feet to me, my cock was in overdrive.
But I reached down quickly to grab her arms and pull her up against me. By the time my mouth reached Angela’s, hers was already open and waiting. Our tongues were at war, each trying to defeat the other with the deeper penetration into the other’s territory. I let my arms slide down her back. My hands met in the curve of her back, and I pressed her hard against me letting my hands lead her in a grinding motion to match mine. She tightened her arms against my back pressing her breasts against my chest. Our tongues stopped warring, instead each matching our grinding, exploring up and down, from one cheek to the other and alternating the attacks between her mouth to my mouth. My hands reached down to grab her ass and pull her even more tightly to me. I could hear and feel the sounds of approval from as her tongue ceded her mouth as now my tongue’s territory. When we broke for breath, I saw her eyes open and the smile appear.
“Christopher, if you were to loosen your arms, I’d slide down your chest and be back on my knees again.” Then her head tilted to my neck and the tongue was back at work, licking long strokes, punctuating them with soft nips of her teeth. Our grinding had slowed, but hers became a slow sway that never lost contact. She used my erection as her pivot.
The slightest release of the pressure from my fingers and Angela was on the move down. She watched me the whole time. She had positioned her hands on my sides to steady herself. She had paused to flick and nip at my tit so I moved my hands to her shoulders and firmly began to push Angela farther down. She had said she wanted to be an object, no limits, what and how I wanted to have her. I moved one hand to her head and removed the other from her shoulder. I didn’t, however, stop pushing her head down. When she was back on her knees, head close to my swollen bulge, she looked up. She smiled; I didn’t.
“Use your teeth, Baby. Only when my dick is out free can you use your hands. Until then, put your hands on the back of my thighs and start unwrapping your gift. Remember: Teeth only.”
Angela said nothing. She didn’t smile; she showed her teeth. She had thought-through what it was she wanted. I felt her hands moving to my thighs, and I felt the softness of her lips and sharpness of her teeth as she pressed into my stomach and tried to get a grip on my briefs. When they slipped away from her bite, I chuckled softly. But she went back at it, and she was clever. My stiffness had created a pup tent, and Angela attached her teeth to the cloth sloping away from my erection to find her grip. After pulling gently to test her approach, she moved her head down, side-to-side tugging away. I could feel her determination as her nails pressed into my thighs. All the movement sent her hair and breasts moving. She struggled on. When the tip of my cock appeared, her teeth pounced on my waistband, reset her grip, and jerked her head down. Out I came. She looked up and winked at me.
“I love this present,” she flattered me as her hands ran up my legs to grab the briefs and pulled them down. It happened quickly. I was grateful for my short moment of freedom, but her fingers had found my balls. While her tongue toyed with them, she used her hands to help me rid of the briefs. I widened my legs as she took a firm hold of my ass and pulled herself in closer to me. Her tongue toyed with the edges of my asshole. With one hand on Angela’s head and the other on the back of her neck, I pressed her deeper into my scrotum, her tongue now playing at my rectum.
How I stopped her teasing I’m not sure, but I wanted my cock in her mouth. I tightened my grip to only a clump of her hair and pulled her head so that her mouth was there waiting. Angela had grooved her tongue to make my entry to her mouth smooth and guided. I pushed forward enough to give her just the head. Again…that tongue flicking at first but then changing to a circular movement. I adored the sensation as I felt the bottom of her tongue rolling slowly across the top of my tip. I pressed myself deeper to encounter zero resistance. The sounds of her activities was joined by her slow, low reaches for breadth as she opened wider to breathe around my erection. I gave her more—beyond the half she had already swallowed—when I felt her hands pushing my cheeks to help herself to more still until her nose was against my belly. Looking down at her, eyes squeezed tightly as she strained, I saw strands of her spit leaking from the corners of her mouth. Somehow, I felt as though I was becoming even bigger.
She finally released me slowly, my cock a shining rod to which she moved her face to transfer her saliva to the outline of her lips. My response was immediate. I took hold of myself with one hand and used my thumb and forefinger of the other to urge to her to open again. She did immediately. I re-gripped her tresses, tilted her back even farther, and rose to my toes. I pushed myself quickly and deeply feeling myself sliding to the back of her throat. I felt her gag reflex, but she stifled it by opening even wider to accept me. I pulled my cock out slowly to the sounds of her swallowing her own juices. With it free, her tongue licked my dick slowly, root to stem, with slight kisses to dry the puddles along my shaft.
Suddenly, I thought about Bob. I caught him with a smile on his face which quickly turned to a dead-pan expression as he hurried back to his role.
“Bob,” I scolded. “You’re enjoying this? What Angela and I are doing for one another? You want a better view? “Get up and bring your chair.”
Snatching up his seat, I moved it close to the bottom corner of the bed. “Sit here and watch me return Angela’s favor.” Bob took his place.
“Angela, let’s get the rest of the wrapping off you. On the bed.”
She rose from her knees and strutted herself to the edge of the bed. Oh, how she moved, this showgirl. She made her way to exactly the bed’s edge all the way riveted on Bob, her stare cold and piercing. Then she placed one knee on the bed and swung herself slowly, turning so she was seated almost in the middle of it lying back on her elbows. Turning to me, she switched in a flash from Bob’s glare to that beautiful smile and hooked one of her fingers under the string.
Her hair was mussed enough from my grabbing it, but it warranted more mussing. Some of her lip gloss had been worn off by my dick, but the color was inviting enough. I crossed to the bed, took one of her legs and spread it slightly, and moved one knee to the spot where the strip of her g-string met the bedding. Placing a full grip with each of my fists around the waist cord of Angela’s g-string, I pulled her panties down to her hips. She had released her teasing finger from them when my grip shifted to her thighs pushing her legs toward the ceiling. Her panties were a straight-shot to gone. Groomed beautifully, Angela was waxed save for the “airstrip.” I felt her legs sliding down and saw her arms extending. Slowly, they gripped the spikes of her heels from the inside and drew them toward her as her legs spread wide.
“Take it, Christopher. Please…now. Take it.” She was begging me. My ego responded as I slid down to my chest, my mouth following her scent.
“Not quite yet, Angela. You’ve had your taste. Now I get mine.”
She closed her eyes for a moment taking in a deep breath as though it might be her last one. Through her half-veiled lids, I saw her glance at Robert as I approached my target. My face drew close as I reared my head up and breathed in her scent like a predator stalking his prey. She allowed her legs to open further as she strengthened her grip on the pencil thin stilettos, wrapping her fingers around the heels from seat to tip. My growl was guttural at the sight of her wet showing itself as a stream trailing to her anus. Clit pulsing, she groaned loudly as my mouth descended onto her mound. Gently, I shelved my upper teeth on her pelvic bone as my lower jaw dropped so my mouth was wide-open for its feast. I used the closing of my jaw and the flat of my tongue as a blade to open her farther. Fully exposed, her shining, pink, pulsing bud sheathed within its tender pink tissues took the ministrations of my tongue. I wide-tongued her clit—licking, swirling on it like it a cone of delicious, dripping ice cream. I raised and lowered my jaw like a scoop so as not to lose a drop. My eating her made her squirt just a bit. At her vaginal entrance, I dipped my tongue inside with a feathery tease then dug in deeply snaking it in and out, back to front, side to side slowly. As I increased the pace, I noisily slurped her juice with an accompanying guttural hum echoing from my vocal cords. Angela’s hips bucked. She was losing control.
Her mewing whimpers grew louder. When she was on the cusp of her release, my hands clamped down on her hands shackling them in their spreading position over her heels. I tongue fucked her into orgasm and when she tried to close her legs to stop me, I only pressed my face in even harder, my tongue continuing its sweet torture. Then I stopped momentarily to watch her writhe. But as she began to quiet, I resumed my tongue’s penetration. At its first wet stroke, she returned to her frenzied state. Sucking her clit between my bared teeth, I unleashed my tongue on my prize. Angela was whimpering and taking in breath only in small, fast, gasping gulps. Her head ragdolled from side to side and only the whites of her eyes showed.
She begged, “Please, please, oh, God. Oh, God! Make me cum now. Please! Don’t stop!”
I smiled at her pussy and brought her to orgasm again and then again and again all in quick succession. She was frantically squirming under my mouth, her body everywhere at once, trying valiantly to close her legs to deny my access. But I was stronger than her spasms. Just when I knew she could take no more, I released Angela’s wrists. Her hands were still frozen to her spikes, unable to open from being so long in her own fierce grip.
Then, in one sudden fluid and violent movement, I hooked her through her armpit and grabbed her hair to drag her to an edge of the bed, hoist her ankles onto my shoulders and spear her with my rock hard cock. Her soaked pussy took all of me. Nailed to the bed by my erection, I grabbed hard into her ass, pressed my knees into the mattress for leverage, and began to pump her against me with all I could deliver.
“Go ahead, Baby. Rub your clit, Angela. I made it big and slippery for you. Now rub it and don’t stop until you cum.”
What was left of her ability to breathe came in short pants in a staccato of ‘Ah’s.’ Her moans then ran to one unending ‘Ah’ ending only as a reverberating whimper as she climaxed vaginally and clitorally simultaneously. In my fury, I climaxed behind her release, as with my last thrust, I collapsed onto her shining body.
Though my head was turned from him, I knew he was somewhere in the shadows. He had, at some time, flicked the lights off save the one that illuminated us on the bed. He had watched the whole of it. She had been able to watch his excitement. I felt her nipple begin to harden again, but I did not see her smile or her wink. She had been using one hand to stroke my head, but I somehow felt he was not watching me now. Feeling the bed take extra weight, now I could smell him close-by. I identified his sound as suckling.
While staring into Robert’s eyes, Angela sighed and said, “Pinch the other one, Christopher. Pinch it hard!” She closed her eyes. I could sense the stirrings moving through her body.
“Angie, it’s time to go,” Bobby said with an edge to his voice.
I raised my head to look at Angela, and thought I caught her throwing a pouty-mouthed kiss in Robert’s direction. Not for the first time this bizarre evening, I wondered about this game they played.
“Get my clothes, Bobbie. Be a dear.”
It was then that I decided I’d finish out the game as I had begun – disdainful of Bob and objectifying Angela.
I hoisted myself off Angela’s body. As I did so, I let my hand drift between her legs. Stroking her well-used pussy, I lifted my wet fingers to her mouth, tugged on her lower lip, and inserted my fingers between her parting teeth. She lightly clamped down on my finger and deliberately sucked it free of our comingled nectars.
I stood erect and, on turning, saw that Robert also had picked up my robe. I looked Robert in the eye and with a half-smile/smirk and one upraised eyebrow. I retrieved the robe from Bobby’s outstretched hand.
Angie had gotten up from the bed and was moving toward Bobby who had gathered the pieces of her outfit. As she stood next to him, she looked me in the eye and simply said, “Well played.”
“Well played?” That was it? Then I noticed the trembling of her hands and the nervous way she was licking her lips.
“What the hell,” I thought. Stroking my resurrecting member, I simply said, “I know,” and walked to the bathroom. In a moment, the hiss of the shower could be heard.
Bobby dropped her clothes on the floor and yanked her into his arms. He took her mouth in a hard kiss. His hands grabbed her ass cheeks and pressed her into his pelvis. He ground his rock hard cock against her. When he let go of her, she dropped to her knees. Her hand was at his zipper when the shower stopped.
“Uh, oh,” I heard Angie giggle.
Half-dried, I stepped out of the bathroom. I thought I heard Angela laugh, but my entry showed the room now to be empty except for the trailing feminine hand on the closing door.
I stepped to the door and looked out the peephole. There she was in all of her naked glory pressed against Robert as he was valiantly trying to hold her clothing while opening the door of the room across from mine. Finally, the keycard worked. Angie half turned and winked in my room’s direction before turning away as Bobby pulled her through the doorway.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I thought. I half wished they had invited me to watch. I smiled. How much if any of what they had told me had been true? It seems I had been a player in a game within a game.
As Angie lay awake in bed, she thought of how Bobby said they were a dynamic duo, unbreakable. Bobby had made her agree that in any scenario they ran with, they would only use their given names–no diminutives. That went for the others they involved in their games as well. Bobby saw it as a protective shield to keep Angie and Bobby separate, safe, and together. Angie was not sure Chris had been watching them when she winked at him from the hallway. She knew she had broken Bobby’s rule in remembering Christopher as Chris. Bobby wouldn’t like it, and it would get him angry, even furious. But she liked Bobby riled up. She grinned to herself. She’d have time to bring him round.
Hours later, she got up from the bed feeling wonderfully achy. She found the hotel’s guest stationery and jotted a note to Chris. She padded barefoot and naked over to his hotel room door and slipped her note into the door just above the keycard reader. Hopefully, he would see it when it fell to the floor. Time would tell. She trotted back to her own room and lay down beside Bobby’s sleeping form. She smiled, stroked herself and thought of Chris.
The next morning on opening my door, I saw the note when it fell. I retrieved it and read her message. Pocketing it, I faced Angie’s door and winked. I had no idea if she saw me or not, but it didn’t matter. I had the note.
Chris,
How about another game sometime? Soon? Hope you will join us. Took your business card from the desk. Watch your e-mail.
Xoxoxo,
Angela
