Dreams of a cashier 2
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Ashley should have mentally drained after a long week of employer-sponsored training, the endless monotony of high-tech lectures, and computerized e-learning quizzes. Instead, as she made her way back up to the hotel's elevator, awake and maybe even sexy. She was going home the next day, but tonight she looked forward to her last night away from home.
I, of course, knew none of this, but as I stroll down the ornate, plush carpet on the seventh floor, I can't help but hear the little snatches of conversation as she steps out of the elevator, "... I know, it's too bad that it was negative. Maybe tomorrow, we can, you know..."
Black strappy, sandals, strong legs, just enough ass to fill out her conservative business skirt. Hair tied back with something dark and glittery, but then I lost myself for a moment watching her hips swing down the hall. So full, so shapely, the perfect tone from many hours at the gym. She didn't notice my appreciative glance as she fumbled with the key card at her door, still talking on the phone, "...you old goat, you just better be rested up tomorrow because it will be day fifteen and I'm keeping you up all night!"
She glances up as she finally unlocked her door, and blushes crimson as she sees my surprised expression.
"Oh my God, I said that in company, I'm so sorry!" She says. Such cute, sparkling blue eyes.
I smile and shrug, "C'est la vie," and continue towards my corner room at the end of the hall.
My room is quiet, but looks out over the stretch of urban lights. I left the lights off, and watch the inching of traffic through the intricate maze stretch out below me. In the bathroom, I strip out of the day's suit, thinking about the girl up the hall. I want her; I contemplate beating off, but ...what the hell.
Standing there in front of the mirror, I imagine holding those beautiful hips against mine, naked, cum spurting into her lovely pussy as she held on to me for dear life. Hmmm. I stuff a rock-hard erection into a pair of clean silk boxers, put on black and black, and head downstairs with a fresh face for the live music in the lobby.
I check the door card to make sure it works, and as I slip it into my pocket, my beautiful neighbor-up-the-hall step out of her room as well, apparently heading the same place I was. She's wearing the same sandals, shorter skirt, and still on the phone.
"...I can't believe you, you know I'd never do that, only for you...ok, I'll pretend. Just for you I will dance with another man tonight. I'll call you when I get back."
I cough lightly, and she starts. She sees me and blush again, clasps a hand to her forehead in feign over-embarrassment. She says goodnight to her husband, "Hey, I've got to run or I'll be late...ok...ok. Bye now!"
She's in her late twenties, luxuriously blonde hair, either expensively done or natural. Perky breasts in an expensive bra, just a touch of lace showing under a clean-cut blouse. Impossibly beautiful, but shy.
I smile and hold out my hand like a fairy tale prince, and laugh easily, "Sorry to interrupt, I'd be happy to dance with you tonight."
She smiles back, "Hi, I'm Ashley."
I play a little, "Pleased to meet you, Ashley. I'm a gentleman adventurer, call me Chas."
As we rode the elevator down, I make small talk, but I can't take my eyes off of her. She smells divine, like a ripe peach in the sun. My head spins with raw desire, and I force my eyes up, eye contact. Oh god, those eyes, so blue. I feel myself lose control. Get a grip.
The buffet is huge, and excellently varied. As I poke, and prod, and collect succulent bits of steaming food onto an exorbitantly large plate, she mentions her life at home in suburban Connecticut. I nod, and she continues. She works in sales--hence the training seminar. Her husband is a software programmer at an industrial plant. Long hours for both, but, well, she had a little trouble getting him to relax.
"Pretty girl like you?" I tease. "You could get anyone to relax!"
She smacks my arm, "You know, he comes home tired. He's just not in the mood, you know? And we've been trying for another kid and this time it's not, well, it's been two months. Yes, we've been to the doctor, the doctor says less stress, but you know how it is. I keep trying to get him to come exercise with me but it's so hard when he works so much."
I know some exercises you can do, girl, with me any time. Some thoughts I keep to myself. When the music starts, it starts loud. We have to shout to be heard. I mention that in Europe, people eating together often sit together, want to come sit around here so we can hear each other? She looks a touch perplexed for a moment, then agrees. Her elbow brushes mine, and the touch is electric.
I want to hold those arms over your head tonight, girl, in my bed.
The music gets slow as dinner wraps to a close, and few couples get up to dance. "Do you dance?" I ask.
"A little swing, a little club, love the old swing blues, actually, my husband wanted me to dance tonight, I haven't danced with anyone else in years. He has this thing, you know, seeing me with another man".
I raise my eyebrows.
"Dancing," she blushes, "Dancing with another man!"
It's the moment of truth. The moment for you to be mine tonight. "Ashley, will you dance with me?"
"Yes."
My cock is instantly hard, but she can't see it. Not yet. I won't let her. There will be time enough later for her to savor every inch of it, every vein, every ripple, but right now, all she sees is my broad back leading her by the hand to a now-crowded dance floor. It's a slow swing, to a song our grandparents probably grew up to. A turn, a spin, a gather, her body realizes that I am very good at this, and she comes back into a close embrace.
Now in blues swing, these days you learn it in a lesson. The instructors work very hard to keep things platonic, and many do a very good job. It's a difficult thing to keep platonic especially in the beginning because the girls bosom is planted directly on her partner's chest, his hands are low(ish), her hands are low(ish), and her head is often laid on her partners shoulder. Of course, many people keep things a little more distant, but to dance it well, you need to be close. Closer than you really ever get at any other point in time. Do it enough, and it becomes platonic, even though to an unskilled observer, it looks like you are having a good more sex on the floor than anybody has any right to.
My little blonde Ashley had done it enough to become a touch platonic. But with a little wine, and the soft lighting, and soft melodies from the sax resonating in our bodies, when my leg went between hers, she danced her pussy right across it, and came back for more. She wasn't terribly overt about it, but I let her just brush my cock, and pushed her away for a spin as the drummer began his piece. For a few moments, she was at arms reach, and I kept her there, with spins and turns and slow slides. I wanted her to want to feel my cock. She had to need it.
The song continued more softly, and she came back for more. She came back and this time she kept her hips firmly planted on mine.
"I shouldn't be here. You know my husband is at home waiting for me."
"If I heard correctly, your husband wants you to be here, dancing hip to hip with another man. You have a good story for him tonight, don't you? How good of a story do you want to bring home?"
I sent her out for another turn, and when she came back in, I brought her close, with my fingers entwining her hair, for a slow pivot. Around...around...my cock is between us, she feels it, plants herself against it, and holds tight with closed eyes.
"You're a nice girl, good girls don't do this, how bad of a story should we make for him?"
The music lulls momentarily, and she looks up into my eyes. She's sparkling. I bend down a touch and kiss her lips. She melts in my arms.
Down...down...down...down the music stops and she opens her eyes, breaking the kiss. She's flushed, breathing heavily. She's also barely two feet from the floor. I look her in the eyes, smiling, "Is that bad enough?" She doesn't laugh this time, her eyes are dark. Lust. I can smell her. I bring up, and walk arm in arm to the bar. I wave my card, "Table 7. Charge it to my room, please."
It's a short walk to the elevator. The doors close, and she kisses me. Seven stories of kissing.
In my room, the lights are off save the gentle glow of the corner nightlight. Her shirt is hooked in the front, her skirt is hooked on the side. She has a little trouble with my belt, and I push her gently back on the bed. I kiss each nipple, and gently kiss down to her delicious pussy. She so sweet, so wet.
And so fertile. So ready for my cum. But not yet.
I taste, and tickle, and lick, and gently suck, until she wraps her legs around my head and moans into a beautiful orgasm. I keep a gentle, warm contact with her pussy until she relaxes, and then sit up on the bed.
My cock is hard, jutting proudly out, a little drop of precum glistening in the moonlight. She reaches out and touches it, and licks her finger.
I slowly jack my erection, sliding the skin up and down the rigid flesh. Her eyes glisten as she stares. She frowns a little as I reach for a condom.
"You sure you want protection, Ashley? You're not that bad, are you?" My question leaves her speechless. I shift a little closer, opening the foil wrapper. "Wouldn't that be a terrible story, if the condom broke, and let all my cum out deep inside you?" Another drop of pre-cum glistens on my cock. I touch it, and slowly rub it into her pussy mount.
"I can't," She moans, "I'm fertile."
I smile as I roll the condom down my cock, "Let's hope it doesn't break, right?" I touch the tip of my cock to her clit and she moans. "Imagine how wet this would feel, naked." I slowly rub my cock back and forth across her swollen clit and she moans. "Imagine how you could feel the veins and ripples of my cock, naked." I drag my cock across her engorged pussy lips, and she thrusts her pussy up against me. "Imagine the heat of my cum, deep inside you, naked."
I slowly press the head of cock against her pussy. She reaches up and slowly scratches down my chest, down my torso, down my groin, to my cock. The condom parts with a snap as her sharp fingernail intersects the stretched latex.
"Send me home with a pussy full of hot cum...send me home to my husband full of your cum."
She smiles up at me as the head of my cock slips inside of her.
"Ashley, I'm going to cum in you. I'm going to cum in you, and eat you out, and cum in you again."
I lean forward and kiss her as I slide deeply into her. Lip to lip, tongue to tongue, hip to hip, I moan and let my cum go, streaming deep into her as she pushes her hips against me, receiving every drop.
And when she had taken every drop until my cock softened inside of her, I ate her out again, and then I came again in her sweet pussy. She slept that night, full of my cum, and in the morning, I filled her up again.
---------------------------------------------------
Short story, written in one pass over about two and a half hours. Grammar infringement is purposeful, but shouldn't get in the way. Tell me what you think, whether you like it, and whether I should continue Ashley's story.
I, of course, knew none of this, but as I stroll down the ornate, plush carpet on the seventh floor, I can't help but hear the little snatches of conversation as she steps out of the elevator, "... I know, it's too bad that it was negative. Maybe tomorrow, we can, you know..."
Black strappy, sandals, strong legs, just enough ass to fill out her conservative business skirt. Hair tied back with something dark and glittery, but then I lost myself for a moment watching her hips swing down the hall. So full, so shapely, the perfect tone from many hours at the gym. She didn't notice my appreciative glance as she fumbled with the key card at her door, still talking on the phone, "...you old goat, you just better be rested up tomorrow because it will be day fifteen and I'm keeping you up all night!"
She glances up as she finally unlocked her door, and blushes crimson as she sees my surprised expression.
"Oh my God, I said that in company, I'm so sorry!" She says. Such cute, sparkling blue eyes.
I smile and shrug, "C'est la vie," and continue towards my corner room at the end of the hall.
My room is quiet, but looks out over the stretch of urban lights. I left the lights off, and watch the inching of traffic through the intricate maze stretch out below me. In the bathroom, I strip out of the day's suit, thinking about the girl up the hall. I want her; I contemplate beating off, but ...what the hell.
Standing there in front of the mirror, I imagine holding those beautiful hips against mine, naked, cum spurting into her lovely pussy as she held on to me for dear life. Hmmm. I stuff a rock-hard erection into a pair of clean silk boxers, put on black and black, and head downstairs with a fresh face for the live music in the lobby.
I check the door card to make sure it works, and as I slip it into my pocket, my beautiful neighbor-up-the-hall step out of her room as well, apparently heading the same place I was. She's wearing the same sandals, shorter skirt, and still on the phone.
"...I can't believe you, you know I'd never do that, only for you...ok, I'll pretend. Just for you I will dance with another man tonight. I'll call you when I get back."
I cough lightly, and she starts. She sees me and blush again, clasps a hand to her forehead in feign over-embarrassment. She says goodnight to her husband, "Hey, I've got to run or I'll be late...ok...ok. Bye now!"
She's in her late twenties, luxuriously blonde hair, either expensively done or natural. Perky breasts in an expensive bra, just a touch of lace showing under a clean-cut blouse. Impossibly beautiful, but shy.
I smile and hold out my hand like a fairy tale prince, and laugh easily, "Sorry to interrupt, I'd be happy to dance with you tonight."
She smiles back, "Hi, I'm Ashley."
I play a little, "Pleased to meet you, Ashley. I'm a gentleman adventurer, call me Chas."
As we rode the elevator down, I make small talk, but I can't take my eyes off of her. She smells divine, like a ripe peach in the sun. My head spins with raw desire, and I force my eyes up, eye contact. Oh god, those eyes, so blue. I feel myself lose control. Get a grip.
The buffet is huge, and excellently varied. As I poke, and prod, and collect succulent bits of steaming food onto an exorbitantly large plate, she mentions her life at home in suburban Connecticut. I nod, and she continues. She works in sales--hence the training seminar. Her husband is a software programmer at an industrial plant. Long hours for both, but, well, she had a little trouble getting him to relax.
"Pretty girl like you?" I tease. "You could get anyone to relax!"
She smacks my arm, "You know, he comes home tired. He's just not in the mood, you know? And we've been trying for another kid and this time it's not, well, it's been two months. Yes, we've been to the doctor, the doctor says less stress, but you know how it is. I keep trying to get him to come exercise with me but it's so hard when he works so much."
I know some exercises you can do, girl, with me any time. Some thoughts I keep to myself. When the music starts, it starts loud. We have to shout to be heard. I mention that in Europe, people eating together often sit together, want to come sit around here so we can hear each other? She looks a touch perplexed for a moment, then agrees. Her elbow brushes mine, and the touch is electric.
I want to hold those arms over your head tonight, girl, in my bed.
The music gets slow as dinner wraps to a close, and few couples get up to dance. "Do you dance?" I ask.
"A little swing, a little club, love the old swing blues, actually, my husband wanted me to dance tonight, I haven't danced with anyone else in years. He has this thing, you know, seeing me with another man".
I raise my eyebrows.
"Dancing," she blushes, "Dancing with another man!"
It's the moment of truth. The moment for you to be mine tonight. "Ashley, will you dance with me?"
"Yes."
My cock is instantly hard, but she can't see it. Not yet. I won't let her. There will be time enough later for her to savor every inch of it, every vein, every ripple, but right now, all she sees is my broad back leading her by the hand to a now-crowded dance floor. It's a slow swing, to a song our grandparents probably grew up to. A turn, a spin, a gather, her body realizes that I am very good at this, and she comes back into a close embrace.
Now in blues swing, these days you learn it in a lesson. The instructors work very hard to keep things platonic, and many do a very good job. It's a difficult thing to keep platonic especially in the beginning because the girls bosom is planted directly on her partner's chest, his hands are low(ish), her hands are low(ish), and her head is often laid on her partners shoulder. Of course, many people keep things a little more distant, but to dance it well, you need to be close. Closer than you really ever get at any other point in time. Do it enough, and it becomes platonic, even though to an unskilled observer, it looks like you are having a good more sex on the floor than anybody has any right to.
My little blonde Ashley had done it enough to become a touch platonic. But with a little wine, and the soft lighting, and soft melodies from the sax resonating in our bodies, when my leg went between hers, she danced her pussy right across it, and came back for more. She wasn't terribly overt about it, but I let her just brush my cock, and pushed her away for a spin as the drummer began his piece. For a few moments, she was at arms reach, and I kept her there, with spins and turns and slow slides. I wanted her to want to feel my cock. She had to need it.
The song continued more softly, and she came back for more. She came back and this time she kept her hips firmly planted on mine.
"I shouldn't be here. You know my husband is at home waiting for me."
"If I heard correctly, your husband wants you to be here, dancing hip to hip with another man. You have a good story for him tonight, don't you? How good of a story do you want to bring home?"
I sent her out for another turn, and when she came back in, I brought her close, with my fingers entwining her hair, for a slow pivot. Around...around...my cock is between us, she feels it, plants herself against it, and holds tight with closed eyes.
"You're a nice girl, good girls don't do this, how bad of a story should we make for him?"
The music lulls momentarily, and she looks up into my eyes. She's sparkling. I bend down a touch and kiss her lips. She melts in my arms.
Down...down...down...down the music stops and she opens her eyes, breaking the kiss. She's flushed, breathing heavily. She's also barely two feet from the floor. I look her in the eyes, smiling, "Is that bad enough?" She doesn't laugh this time, her eyes are dark. Lust. I can smell her. I bring up, and walk arm in arm to the bar. I wave my card, "Table 7. Charge it to my room, please."
It's a short walk to the elevator. The doors close, and she kisses me. Seven stories of kissing.
In my room, the lights are off save the gentle glow of the corner nightlight. Her shirt is hooked in the front, her skirt is hooked on the side. She has a little trouble with my belt, and I push her gently back on the bed. I kiss each nipple, and gently kiss down to her delicious pussy. She so sweet, so wet.
And so fertile. So ready for my cum. But not yet.
I taste, and tickle, and lick, and gently suck, until she wraps her legs around my head and moans into a beautiful orgasm. I keep a gentle, warm contact with her pussy until she relaxes, and then sit up on the bed.
My cock is hard, jutting proudly out, a little drop of precum glistening in the moonlight. She reaches out and touches it, and licks her finger.
I slowly jack my erection, sliding the skin up and down the rigid flesh. Her eyes glisten as she stares. She frowns a little as I reach for a condom.
"You sure you want protection, Ashley? You're not that bad, are you?" My question leaves her speechless. I shift a little closer, opening the foil wrapper. "Wouldn't that be a terrible story, if the condom broke, and let all my cum out deep inside you?" Another drop of pre-cum glistens on my cock. I touch it, and slowly rub it into her pussy mount.
"I can't," She moans, "I'm fertile."
I smile as I roll the condom down my cock, "Let's hope it doesn't break, right?" I touch the tip of my cock to her clit and she moans. "Imagine how wet this would feel, naked." I slowly rub my cock back and forth across her swollen clit and she moans. "Imagine how you could feel the veins and ripples of my cock, naked." I drag my cock across her engorged pussy lips, and she thrusts her pussy up against me. "Imagine the heat of my cum, deep inside you, naked."
I slowly press the head of cock against her pussy. She reaches up and slowly scratches down my chest, down my torso, down my groin, to my cock. The condom parts with a snap as her sharp fingernail intersects the stretched latex.
"Send me home with a pussy full of hot cum...send me home to my husband full of your cum."
She smiles up at me as the head of my cock slips inside of her.
"Ashley, I'm going to cum in you. I'm going to cum in you, and eat you out, and cum in you again."
I lean forward and kiss her as I slide deeply into her. Lip to lip, tongue to tongue, hip to hip, I moan and let my cum go, streaming deep into her as she pushes her hips against me, receiving every drop.
And when she had taken every drop until my cock softened inside of her, I ate her out again, and then I came again in her sweet pussy. She slept that night, full of my cum, and in the morning, I filled her up again.
---------------------------------------------------
Short story, written in one pass over about two and a half hours. Grammar infringement is purposeful, but shouldn't get in the way. Tell me what you think, whether you like it, and whether I should continue Ashley's story.
Elle
- 21.07.2022
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- Wife Lovers
