Darkroom Thursday
- 1 year ago
- 12
- 0
Third Thursday free porn video
It was the third Thursday of the month. I had checked into the hotel alone; she was running late. I headed to the second floor. We always booked the same room on the second floor.
Gemma and I had been lovers for more than two years. We had been introduced at a business reception and immediately hit it off. We both found the party boring, so we got really drunk. After leaving to have dinner, we decided we fancied each other and got a room for the evening.
For several months, we could not get enough of each other even though we were both ‘happily’ married. The sex was just too good. Eventually, we settled into a routine: the third Thursday afternoon of every month. While we loved each other, we were both comfortable with our respective spouses and families. We did not want to lose each other, but we weren’t willing to risk all that we already had.
As I walked down the corridor, I saw the housekeeper arranging linen in the cupboard. She looked up and gave me a big smile. She had seen Gemma and me come to the same room regularly, but she never batted an eye. It was a luxury hotel where the staff were taught to respect the guests, especially regulars. It probably didn’t hurt that Gemma told me each month to leave the maid a big tip because we had “messed up the bed”.
"Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you,” the housekeeper said with a pleasing Eastern European accent. “Extra towels, anything at all. It’s no trouble.”
I nodded, said thanks and continued down the hallway.
My phone rang just as I was about to slip the key card into the door. It was Gemma, and she was crying.
“I can’t see you, Brett, today or ever again,” she sobbed. “I stupidly left the last hotel bill in the waste bin, and Byron somehow found it. God only knows how. I had to tell him everything; he said he would leave me if I didn’t. I had to promise I would never see you again. Perhaps this is for the best. We’ve probably been living on borrowed time. This has to be the end. Goodbye, my love.”
The line went dead before I could say anything.
I slumped against the still-locked door. My mind was working overtime. Should I call her back? No, her husband could be with her. Perhaps this was for the best. One of our spouses was sure to have eventually found out. But still, could I live without her … without our Thursday afternoons?
I felt empty and began crying.
The housekeeper heard my sobs.
“Here, let me help,” she said, taking the keycard from me and opening the door.
She sat me to the bed and then got a glass of water for me. I murmured thanks, but much to my surprise she sat next to me on the bed rather than disappear out the door. I did not have to explain why I was crying; she had already figured it out.
“I noticed you and your friend because you came here often and you were a polite, very attractive couple. Both of you always said hello when you saw me; most people don’t give me the time of day.
“It’s been six years since I came to this country and started working at this hotel. Three years ago, my husband left me for a younger woman. I know emptiness; I know heartbreak. They never go away, but they do fade. I can promise you that.
“I am here to help you.”
While I should have probably told the housekeeper to go away and mind her own business, her words and gentle accent were reassuring. I leaned against her, and was a bit shocked when she put her arms around me.
I don’t really know what I was thinking, but I got the sudden urge to lean over and kiss her. She probably should have slapped me, but instead she kissed me back, first gently and then with a bit of tongue.
My senses returned and I pulled away. “Uh, I’m really, really sorry,” I stammered. “I don’t know what came over me, but…"
She had put her finger against my lips and said, “Shhhh. I can tell you are hurting, and I think I know what may make you feel better, what may help to make you forget your misery.”
While I had seen her many times, I had never paid her much attention, not because she wasn’t pleasant looking. In fact, she was. However, you probably do not pay much attention to the hotel maid while on the way to have raucous sex with your lover.
Now, as she began to remove her blue uniform blouse, I saw a woman who probably was in her 30s, as I was, with a pleasant round face and piercing blue eyes, surrounded by a mane of curly blonde hair. I then stopped noticing her looks, not because I wanted to stop, but because my attention was diverted as she knelt by the bed and started unzipping my trousers. Despite my sadness, my cock began to harden with her touch.
She had pulled down my trousers and released my cock from my boxers. She began to softly lick the tip while, at the same time, staring intently at me with her blue eyes. She pushed me back on the bed to get full access to my penis and began to suck my manhood, eventually swallowing nearly its full length.
I gently pushed her away head and said softly, “Please, let’s both get undressed.”
I watched her as she removed her bra and let her skirt fall to the floor. Clad in just a pair of tiny red knickers, she helped me get completely naked. After finally removing her thong, she again pushed me back on the bed and, after giving my cock two more licks, climbed on top of me.
She was warm, wet and tight. We slowly rocked together, not too fast but not too slow, either. Although I did not know this woman, she was making love to me, tender sweet love, not just fucking me. I looked up at her and saw a slender waist, generous breasts that sagged only slightly with their weight and a smiling face surrounded by golden hair.
I did not want to admit it, but I had totally forgotten about Gemma, even though I did not know my new lover’s name. I felt ashamed, but then my thoughts were interrupted as my new partner – whatever her name – began to pick up the pace. She began to bounce up and down on my cock and eventually bent down for a full-on kiss. She then leaned back again and began to moan, and I could tell that her climax had begun. As her orgasm continued, she began mumbling in a language I did not recognise.
She regained her composure after a couple of moments. “Please get on top,” she said. “I want to feel you come inside me.” She rolled off me, lay on her back and spread her legs, inviting me to comply with her request. As soon as I got on top of her and worked my cock into her wet pussy, she raised her legs toward the ceiling and whispered, “Fuck me, please fuck me as hard as you can.”
I began to pump in and out, increasing my pace with each thrust. She spurred me on: “Harder, please, fuck me even harder.” I began to slam into her and continued for several minutes. I doubt if I had ever fucked someone that hard in my life. I felt her legs wrap around me, squeezing me even deeper into her, and soon I could tell that she was on the verge of her second climax. Finally, as she began to shout once more, I recognised the familiar tingle. I could feel fluid begin to work its way up the length of my shaft. Finally, my orgasm erupted. As I spurted cum deep into my partner’s pussy, she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me passionately.
We both lay with our arms and legs entangled as we calmed down. We kissed lightly and tenderly, savouring the moment but realising that our time together was running short. I could feel my cum ooze out of her pussy and onto my thigh.
She gave me one last kiss and then headed towards the bathroom.
We both dressed in silence while looking intently at each other, our eyes doing all the talking. It was only when she was buttoning her blouse that I noticed the name on her badge: Claudia. She knew I was staring, and she laughed.
“You now know my name, but what do I call you? Is it Mr Smith or Mr Jones?” she asked impishly.
I smiled and said, “It’s Brett, Brett Perkins. It’s nice to meet you Claudia.”
“And it’s nice to meet you, too, Mr Perkins,” she said, now almost shyly.
We were finished dressing.
“I have to get back to work soon,” Claudia said. “I could be missed.”
“Could you wait just one minute?” I replied. “I would like to see you again, that is if you are agreeable?”
Claudia looked in the mirror and adjusted her uniform one last time. Satisfied, she turned to me once more.
“Well, I guess I could ask to have my shifts changed so that I have Thursday afternoons off. Why don’t you make your usual reservation next month and see what happens?”
Gemma and I had been lovers for more than two years. We had been introduced at a business reception and immediately hit it off. We both found the party boring, so we got really drunk. After leaving to have dinner, we decided we fancied each other and got a room for the evening.
For several months, we could not get enough of each other even though we were both ‘happily’ married. The sex was just too good. Eventually, we settled into a routine: the third Thursday afternoon of every month. While we loved each other, we were both comfortable with our respective spouses and families. We did not want to lose each other, but we weren’t willing to risk all that we already had.
As I walked down the corridor, I saw the housekeeper arranging linen in the cupboard. She looked up and gave me a big smile. She had seen Gemma and me come to the same room regularly, but she never batted an eye. It was a luxury hotel where the staff were taught to respect the guests, especially regulars. It probably didn’t hurt that Gemma told me each month to leave the maid a big tip because we had “messed up the bed”.
"Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you,” the housekeeper said with a pleasing Eastern European accent. “Extra towels, anything at all. It’s no trouble.”
I nodded, said thanks and continued down the hallway.
My phone rang just as I was about to slip the key card into the door. It was Gemma, and she was crying.
“I can’t see you, Brett, today or ever again,” she sobbed. “I stupidly left the last hotel bill in the waste bin, and Byron somehow found it. God only knows how. I had to tell him everything; he said he would leave me if I didn’t. I had to promise I would never see you again. Perhaps this is for the best. We’ve probably been living on borrowed time. This has to be the end. Goodbye, my love.”
The line went dead before I could say anything.
I slumped against the still-locked door. My mind was working overtime. Should I call her back? No, her husband could be with her. Perhaps this was for the best. One of our spouses was sure to have eventually found out. But still, could I live without her … without our Thursday afternoons?
I felt empty and began crying.
The housekeeper heard my sobs.
“Here, let me help,” she said, taking the keycard from me and opening the door.
She sat me to the bed and then got a glass of water for me. I murmured thanks, but much to my surprise she sat next to me on the bed rather than disappear out the door. I did not have to explain why I was crying; she had already figured it out.
“I noticed you and your friend because you came here often and you were a polite, very attractive couple. Both of you always said hello when you saw me; most people don’t give me the time of day.
“It’s been six years since I came to this country and started working at this hotel. Three years ago, my husband left me for a younger woman. I know emptiness; I know heartbreak. They never go away, but they do fade. I can promise you that.
“I am here to help you.”
While I should have probably told the housekeeper to go away and mind her own business, her words and gentle accent were reassuring. I leaned against her, and was a bit shocked when she put her arms around me.
I don’t really know what I was thinking, but I got the sudden urge to lean over and kiss her. She probably should have slapped me, but instead she kissed me back, first gently and then with a bit of tongue.
My senses returned and I pulled away. “Uh, I’m really, really sorry,” I stammered. “I don’t know what came over me, but…"
She had put her finger against my lips and said, “Shhhh. I can tell you are hurting, and I think I know what may make you feel better, what may help to make you forget your misery.”
While I had seen her many times, I had never paid her much attention, not because she wasn’t pleasant looking. In fact, she was. However, you probably do not pay much attention to the hotel maid while on the way to have raucous sex with your lover.
Now, as she began to remove her blue uniform blouse, I saw a woman who probably was in her 30s, as I was, with a pleasant round face and piercing blue eyes, surrounded by a mane of curly blonde hair. I then stopped noticing her looks, not because I wanted to stop, but because my attention was diverted as she knelt by the bed and started unzipping my trousers. Despite my sadness, my cock began to harden with her touch.
She had pulled down my trousers and released my cock from my boxers. She began to softly lick the tip while, at the same time, staring intently at me with her blue eyes. She pushed me back on the bed to get full access to my penis and began to suck my manhood, eventually swallowing nearly its full length.
I gently pushed her away head and said softly, “Please, let’s both get undressed.”
I watched her as she removed her bra and let her skirt fall to the floor. Clad in just a pair of tiny red knickers, she helped me get completely naked. After finally removing her thong, she again pushed me back on the bed and, after giving my cock two more licks, climbed on top of me.
She was warm, wet and tight. We slowly rocked together, not too fast but not too slow, either. Although I did not know this woman, she was making love to me, tender sweet love, not just fucking me. I looked up at her and saw a slender waist, generous breasts that sagged only slightly with their weight and a smiling face surrounded by golden hair.
I did not want to admit it, but I had totally forgotten about Gemma, even though I did not know my new lover’s name. I felt ashamed, but then my thoughts were interrupted as my new partner – whatever her name – began to pick up the pace. She began to bounce up and down on my cock and eventually bent down for a full-on kiss. She then leaned back again and began to moan, and I could tell that her climax had begun. As her orgasm continued, she began mumbling in a language I did not recognise.
She regained her composure after a couple of moments. “Please get on top,” she said. “I want to feel you come inside me.” She rolled off me, lay on her back and spread her legs, inviting me to comply with her request. As soon as I got on top of her and worked my cock into her wet pussy, she raised her legs toward the ceiling and whispered, “Fuck me, please fuck me as hard as you can.”
I began to pump in and out, increasing my pace with each thrust. She spurred me on: “Harder, please, fuck me even harder.” I began to slam into her and continued for several minutes. I doubt if I had ever fucked someone that hard in my life. I felt her legs wrap around me, squeezing me even deeper into her, and soon I could tell that she was on the verge of her second climax. Finally, as she began to shout once more, I recognised the familiar tingle. I could feel fluid begin to work its way up the length of my shaft. Finally, my orgasm erupted. As I spurted cum deep into my partner’s pussy, she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me passionately.
We both lay with our arms and legs entangled as we calmed down. We kissed lightly and tenderly, savouring the moment but realising that our time together was running short. I could feel my cum ooze out of her pussy and onto my thigh.
She gave me one last kiss and then headed towards the bathroom.
We both dressed in silence while looking intently at each other, our eyes doing all the talking. It was only when she was buttoning her blouse that I noticed the name on her badge: Claudia. She knew I was staring, and she laughed.
“You now know my name, but what do I call you? Is it Mr Smith or Mr Jones?” she asked impishly.
I smiled and said, “It’s Brett, Brett Perkins. It’s nice to meet you Claudia.”
“And it’s nice to meet you, too, Mr Perkins,” she said, now almost shyly.
We were finished dressing.
“I have to get back to work soon,” Claudia said. “I could be missed.”
“Could you wait just one minute?” I replied. “I would like to see you again, that is if you are agreeable?”
Claudia looked in the mirror and adjusted her uniform one last time. Satisfied, she turned to me once more.
“Well, I guess I could ask to have my shifts changed so that I have Thursday afternoons off. Why don’t you make your usual reservation next month and see what happens?”
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