Hotel Whore
- 2 years ago
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Hotel Whore free porn video
Sitting in the back of the black cab I watched the lights of London pass me by. I couldn’t help wondering how many other women out there lived like I did? I expect that many did, but in their happy middle class lives would never put a name to it. Never compare themselves with me, but if we looked in each other’s eyes perhaps we would know we aren’t too different.
The cab pulled up outside the Hotel and I gathered my thoughts back to the task in hand. I had never been here before, only knew it by reputation, but I wasn’t surprised at the opulence of my destination. The glass entrance was immaculate and the liveried doorman opened the taxi for me. He offered his hand as I prepared to leave the safety of my carriage…”Good evening ma’am and welcome to The Lancaster”.
I stepped from the vehicle and took a deep breath, dressed in black heels, high, and obviously expensive, my sheer hold up stockings suitably complimented them. My black velvet cocktail dress was a very classic cut, it skimmed my body well, d****d low enough at the front to give a glimpse of cleavage but subtle in its elegance. It was only as I walked into the marble foyer that I could feel the doorman’s eyes on my back, laughing with the taxi driver before he pulled away. I didn’t need to hear their comments, I could guess the gist of them. From behind the dress took on a whole different style. It hung from my shoulders in a long, cowl of material that stopped inches passed my waist, exposing the tanned flesh that began to rise to the curve of my buttocks. The soft velvet caressed my skin as I moved, like an invisible hand supporting me as I headed towards the bar, following the recognizable sounds. Nervously I hoped that I didn’t attract the attention of the manager, sometimes women like me weren’t always welcome.
The pianist was playing tunes I recognised from my grandparents era, the words escaped me but it was comforting somehow to find something familiar in this unknown environment. I wandered slowly to the bar and took my seat on one of the high stools, sitting close to the corner so I had a view of the room without it being obvious. The barman eyed me suspiciously as I ordered a glass of white wine but said nothing. I sipped slowly at the chilled liquid, wanting to knock it back, wanting to numb the edges a little, but knowing I needed to keep my wits about me as always.
The bar began to fill and I turned slightly so I could people watch. I knew that I was attracting glances from many of the hotel guests, and in turn I would hold eye contact for a second, before they looked away. I wondered who it would be tonight? The man in the chair by the fire, looking lonely as he flicked through the newspaper? The loud obnoxious man by the piano, making a big show of tipping money into his glass? I hoped not.
It was as I returned to my drink again that I noticed him, standing quietly at the bar waiting to be served. Ordering only a whisky, he was clearly alone…. for now anyway. I took in all the details, nice suit, smart, appropriate for the night, clean shined shoes, neat trimmed fingernails, a man who took pride in his appearance.
He glanced in my direction and for just a second our eyes met before I looked away shyly. Nothing too obvious for him, this was a man who would not appreciate any blatant gestures. I looked up again from under my eyelashes and caught him looking again, this time I smiled, and he returned this with a slight inclination of his head. Yes, he was my destiny for tonight.
I gestured to the barman for another glass of wine and as I did, he approached. Walking over he asked sweetly if he could buy that for me. Thanking him we began the masquerade of small talk that would only end in one outcome. No questions about wives or husbands, no details that could bring on the guilt that sometimes tinged these encounters. Eventually as the bar became a hive of activity I suggested we moved on somewhere less busy. He looked a little embarrassed, had I misjudged him, was he about to make his excuses and leave? After a moments hesitation I placed my hand lightly on his on the bar top, and smiled.
Barely able to look me in the eye he said, “I have a room” We began to head towards the lifts, I felt his hand rest lightly on the curve of my spine as he ushered me past the groups of people blocking our way. I heard one of the women make a spiteful comment, they often did when they saw women like me but I hardly noticed it anymore. We were not so unalike when it really came down to it.
In the lift we stood a little awkwardly, no small talk now. Wanting him to relax, wanting him to enjoy our time together I turned to him and smiled. Walking down the corridor I noticed he smelt good, nothing over powering, just a faint trace, a fresh clean smell that was refreshing. Yes, he was the right choice for tonight.
At the door he slid in the card key and pushed the door open, ushering me in first, such a gentleman I though. That small gesture suddenly meant a lot to me. As we entered the room I took in the view, London looked so spectacular from this height. Keeping the curtains open to provide a little light he flicked off the main switch as he followed me in, both of us seeming to have the same idea. The silence seemed so loud that I longed for some ease, but was aware of how fragile the moment was.
I looked through the CDs the hotel supplied and chose a sultry one by Norah Jones. Her husky, sexual tones soon broke the slightly tense atmosphere as I stood and faced him. Stepping closer I undid the button of his suit jacket and slid it from his shoulders, placing it on the chair by our side. “Isn’t that more comfortable?” I asked. He nodded at me, but I was unable to read the inscrutable look he gave me. Kissing his cheek fleetingly I brushed past him as I walked to the window again. I heard him reach into his pocket and undo the snap on his wallet. We both knew the routine, business first. I heard the sound of the money being laid on the table next to my purse, the deal was done.
When I turned back he was facing me, sitting on the edge of the bed. Standing close now I began to move my body to the music, slow, sensuous movements, hands slowly rising until they were above my head. Losing myself in the rhythm, hips swaying, turning so he could see the full effect of the dress as I moved. I knew that it left no doubt that I was naked under the luscious material.
Turning back to face him I wasn’t surprised to see the growing bulge in his trousers. His hands stretched out to me, but I stayed out of reach for a little longer. He may have paid for me, but just for a while, just for a few moments longer I wanted him to wait. My eyes locked with his and I continued to dance, reaching up I pulled out the pin that held my hair up, feeling it tumble down my neck and shoulders. I wanted him to enjoy the show, after all he had paid for it.
Stepping into his arms he began stroking the soft material that covered me, more heavy handed than I had expected, eager, as if he felt I would run at any moment, or that I’d do something to spoil the spell. I put one heel up on the bed beside him, letting the fabric of my dress fall away from the sheer stocking. I knew he’d be able to see the lacy top, knew he’d be able to see a glimpse of my pussy as he ran his hand appreciatively over the fine nylon.
His next movement surprised me a little. Pushing me away dismissively he lay back and folded his arms behind head, watching me and inclining his head down towards his groin.
I stood for a moment, the sensuous moment lost. In that one small movement he had reminded me this wasn’t a seduction, this was a business deal and I had been bought for his purpose.
Leaning down I unzipped his fly and pulled back the material, freeing his already hardening penis from the tangle of his underwear. He lifted himself just a little so I could adjust his suit, making him more comfortable. My hand began to stroke him, feeling the weight of him jerk and respond to my touch. Both hands entwined around his cock, I moved as if to kneel, he was so low on the bed I felt awkward
“Stay standing, and lift your dress up. Show all of London the souvenir I just bought”.
His voice cut into me and shocked me by its harshness. Hating his words but having no real option I raised my skirt up over my naked ass. Legs spread I felt so open and vulnerable, hating him for making me feel this way with just a few words. I watched as he moved his head just a little to the side so he could see my reflection in the highly polished glass.
“Better, you like being shared don’t you?” He laughed at his own joke, both knowing it didn’t require a reply.
Leaning back down I continued to stroke his cock, fully erect now and pointing almost obscenely towards my face. I bent a little lower and opened my mouth but his voice stopped me short.
“Keep that filthy mouth off me whore! You don’t think I want you to touch me with that do you?”
Surprised I looked down at him, not really understanding. “But I thought that you’d….”
“I didn’t pay you to think bitch. I paid you to come up here and get me off! Now do it and keep that face of yours exactly where it is!”
I had misjudged this man, something I rarely did anymore. I could usually read the situation better. Cursing myself I continued to stroke him again, knowing now he didn’t want some fanciful romantic encounter, he just needed a slut to make him cum and I was it.
His voice over powered the music, “That’s it you fucking whore, use your hands because no other part of you is touching my cock. How do I know you’re not some disease-ridden cunt? Can’t you even do that slut? Even a fucking virgin teenager knows how to give a better hand job than that?”
On and on his words rang in my ears as I stood there exposed and humiliated by him. Relentless in his tirade, his words hurtful and mean never stopped. He wanted to see the way they affected me, and I knew he’d see it on my face. He knew that his words were making me feel like a cheap back street hooker, the confidence and poise of earlier long gone.
He seemed to love my discomfort and it spurred him on, fucking against my hand, so close now
“Some whore you are, having to fuck my own cock so I can cum. Worthless piece of shit. See if you can at least take it right, right in your filthy face!”
His words and my distress took him over the edge, a strong stream of white ropey cum landing straight on my face, dripping down as the next one fired from his body.
My hands continued to jerk him, taking each thread of cum over my face, just like he had wanted me too. Standing over him like the dirty slut he had accused me of being, I felt it land in the curls of my hair, over my face and splash down against my neckline and breasts. Once his orgasm had subsided he slapped my hand away and lay back down on the bed.
“Now then, that’s so much nicer sweetie, now everyone in the bar will be in no doubt what you are! Just a cheap cum dumpster.”
Straightening up I walked over to the dresser and wiped his cum from my face as I felt him watching me. Pulling my dress back down and adjusting my hair I got ready to leave him. He sat up and was pulling up his zipper as I gathered the money from the dresser and placed it in my small, elegant handbag.
“Don’t forget the money, you’ll need that, slut.”
I turned to walk towards the door but he was there before me, opening it again in that gesture I had found so charming earlier on.
As I walked past he held my arm and leaned in, his mouth so close it almost touched my ear. Holding my breath I waited for his parting words.
“Hurry home my pet, the cab is waiting. You pleased me this evening.”
“Thank You Master” was all I said as he slowly closed the door behind me.
The cab pulled up outside the Hotel and I gathered my thoughts back to the task in hand. I had never been here before, only knew it by reputation, but I wasn’t surprised at the opulence of my destination. The glass entrance was immaculate and the liveried doorman opened the taxi for me. He offered his hand as I prepared to leave the safety of my carriage…”Good evening ma’am and welcome to The Lancaster”.
I stepped from the vehicle and took a deep breath, dressed in black heels, high, and obviously expensive, my sheer hold up stockings suitably complimented them. My black velvet cocktail dress was a very classic cut, it skimmed my body well, d****d low enough at the front to give a glimpse of cleavage but subtle in its elegance. It was only as I walked into the marble foyer that I could feel the doorman’s eyes on my back, laughing with the taxi driver before he pulled away. I didn’t need to hear their comments, I could guess the gist of them. From behind the dress took on a whole different style. It hung from my shoulders in a long, cowl of material that stopped inches passed my waist, exposing the tanned flesh that began to rise to the curve of my buttocks. The soft velvet caressed my skin as I moved, like an invisible hand supporting me as I headed towards the bar, following the recognizable sounds. Nervously I hoped that I didn’t attract the attention of the manager, sometimes women like me weren’t always welcome.
The pianist was playing tunes I recognised from my grandparents era, the words escaped me but it was comforting somehow to find something familiar in this unknown environment. I wandered slowly to the bar and took my seat on one of the high stools, sitting close to the corner so I had a view of the room without it being obvious. The barman eyed me suspiciously as I ordered a glass of white wine but said nothing. I sipped slowly at the chilled liquid, wanting to knock it back, wanting to numb the edges a little, but knowing I needed to keep my wits about me as always.
The bar began to fill and I turned slightly so I could people watch. I knew that I was attracting glances from many of the hotel guests, and in turn I would hold eye contact for a second, before they looked away. I wondered who it would be tonight? The man in the chair by the fire, looking lonely as he flicked through the newspaper? The loud obnoxious man by the piano, making a big show of tipping money into his glass? I hoped not.
It was as I returned to my drink again that I noticed him, standing quietly at the bar waiting to be served. Ordering only a whisky, he was clearly alone…. for now anyway. I took in all the details, nice suit, smart, appropriate for the night, clean shined shoes, neat trimmed fingernails, a man who took pride in his appearance.
He glanced in my direction and for just a second our eyes met before I looked away shyly. Nothing too obvious for him, this was a man who would not appreciate any blatant gestures. I looked up again from under my eyelashes and caught him looking again, this time I smiled, and he returned this with a slight inclination of his head. Yes, he was my destiny for tonight.
I gestured to the barman for another glass of wine and as I did, he approached. Walking over he asked sweetly if he could buy that for me. Thanking him we began the masquerade of small talk that would only end in one outcome. No questions about wives or husbands, no details that could bring on the guilt that sometimes tinged these encounters. Eventually as the bar became a hive of activity I suggested we moved on somewhere less busy. He looked a little embarrassed, had I misjudged him, was he about to make his excuses and leave? After a moments hesitation I placed my hand lightly on his on the bar top, and smiled.
Barely able to look me in the eye he said, “I have a room” We began to head towards the lifts, I felt his hand rest lightly on the curve of my spine as he ushered me past the groups of people blocking our way. I heard one of the women make a spiteful comment, they often did when they saw women like me but I hardly noticed it anymore. We were not so unalike when it really came down to it.
In the lift we stood a little awkwardly, no small talk now. Wanting him to relax, wanting him to enjoy our time together I turned to him and smiled. Walking down the corridor I noticed he smelt good, nothing over powering, just a faint trace, a fresh clean smell that was refreshing. Yes, he was the right choice for tonight.
At the door he slid in the card key and pushed the door open, ushering me in first, such a gentleman I though. That small gesture suddenly meant a lot to me. As we entered the room I took in the view, London looked so spectacular from this height. Keeping the curtains open to provide a little light he flicked off the main switch as he followed me in, both of us seeming to have the same idea. The silence seemed so loud that I longed for some ease, but was aware of how fragile the moment was.
I looked through the CDs the hotel supplied and chose a sultry one by Norah Jones. Her husky, sexual tones soon broke the slightly tense atmosphere as I stood and faced him. Stepping closer I undid the button of his suit jacket and slid it from his shoulders, placing it on the chair by our side. “Isn’t that more comfortable?” I asked. He nodded at me, but I was unable to read the inscrutable look he gave me. Kissing his cheek fleetingly I brushed past him as I walked to the window again. I heard him reach into his pocket and undo the snap on his wallet. We both knew the routine, business first. I heard the sound of the money being laid on the table next to my purse, the deal was done.
When I turned back he was facing me, sitting on the edge of the bed. Standing close now I began to move my body to the music, slow, sensuous movements, hands slowly rising until they were above my head. Losing myself in the rhythm, hips swaying, turning so he could see the full effect of the dress as I moved. I knew that it left no doubt that I was naked under the luscious material.
Turning back to face him I wasn’t surprised to see the growing bulge in his trousers. His hands stretched out to me, but I stayed out of reach for a little longer. He may have paid for me, but just for a while, just for a few moments longer I wanted him to wait. My eyes locked with his and I continued to dance, reaching up I pulled out the pin that held my hair up, feeling it tumble down my neck and shoulders. I wanted him to enjoy the show, after all he had paid for it.
Stepping into his arms he began stroking the soft material that covered me, more heavy handed than I had expected, eager, as if he felt I would run at any moment, or that I’d do something to spoil the spell. I put one heel up on the bed beside him, letting the fabric of my dress fall away from the sheer stocking. I knew he’d be able to see the lacy top, knew he’d be able to see a glimpse of my pussy as he ran his hand appreciatively over the fine nylon.
His next movement surprised me a little. Pushing me away dismissively he lay back and folded his arms behind head, watching me and inclining his head down towards his groin.
I stood for a moment, the sensuous moment lost. In that one small movement he had reminded me this wasn’t a seduction, this was a business deal and I had been bought for his purpose.
Leaning down I unzipped his fly and pulled back the material, freeing his already hardening penis from the tangle of his underwear. He lifted himself just a little so I could adjust his suit, making him more comfortable. My hand began to stroke him, feeling the weight of him jerk and respond to my touch. Both hands entwined around his cock, I moved as if to kneel, he was so low on the bed I felt awkward
“Stay standing, and lift your dress up. Show all of London the souvenir I just bought”.
His voice cut into me and shocked me by its harshness. Hating his words but having no real option I raised my skirt up over my naked ass. Legs spread I felt so open and vulnerable, hating him for making me feel this way with just a few words. I watched as he moved his head just a little to the side so he could see my reflection in the highly polished glass.
“Better, you like being shared don’t you?” He laughed at his own joke, both knowing it didn’t require a reply.
Leaning back down I continued to stroke his cock, fully erect now and pointing almost obscenely towards my face. I bent a little lower and opened my mouth but his voice stopped me short.
“Keep that filthy mouth off me whore! You don’t think I want you to touch me with that do you?”
Surprised I looked down at him, not really understanding. “But I thought that you’d….”
“I didn’t pay you to think bitch. I paid you to come up here and get me off! Now do it and keep that face of yours exactly where it is!”
I had misjudged this man, something I rarely did anymore. I could usually read the situation better. Cursing myself I continued to stroke him again, knowing now he didn’t want some fanciful romantic encounter, he just needed a slut to make him cum and I was it.
His voice over powered the music, “That’s it you fucking whore, use your hands because no other part of you is touching my cock. How do I know you’re not some disease-ridden cunt? Can’t you even do that slut? Even a fucking virgin teenager knows how to give a better hand job than that?”
On and on his words rang in my ears as I stood there exposed and humiliated by him. Relentless in his tirade, his words hurtful and mean never stopped. He wanted to see the way they affected me, and I knew he’d see it on my face. He knew that his words were making me feel like a cheap back street hooker, the confidence and poise of earlier long gone.
He seemed to love my discomfort and it spurred him on, fucking against my hand, so close now
“Some whore you are, having to fuck my own cock so I can cum. Worthless piece of shit. See if you can at least take it right, right in your filthy face!”
His words and my distress took him over the edge, a strong stream of white ropey cum landing straight on my face, dripping down as the next one fired from his body.
My hands continued to jerk him, taking each thread of cum over my face, just like he had wanted me too. Standing over him like the dirty slut he had accused me of being, I felt it land in the curls of my hair, over my face and splash down against my neckline and breasts. Once his orgasm had subsided he slapped my hand away and lay back down on the bed.
“Now then, that’s so much nicer sweetie, now everyone in the bar will be in no doubt what you are! Just a cheap cum dumpster.”
Straightening up I walked over to the dresser and wiped his cum from my face as I felt him watching me. Pulling my dress back down and adjusting my hair I got ready to leave him. He sat up and was pulling up his zipper as I gathered the money from the dresser and placed it in my small, elegant handbag.
“Don’t forget the money, you’ll need that, slut.”
I turned to walk towards the door but he was there before me, opening it again in that gesture I had found so charming earlier on.
As I walked past he held my arm and leaned in, his mouth so close it almost touched my ear. Holding my breath I waited for his parting words.
“Hurry home my pet, the cab is waiting. You pleased me this evening.”
“Thank You Master” was all I said as he slowly closed the door behind me.
Valentina
- 10.05.2022
- 15
- 0
