C is for (I Called a) Car…

We’re at the end of our trip it’s been a great time, lots of time spent taking in the scenery from 40 stories up in the high-rise. And lots more time taking in the scenery right here in our room. Something about hotel rooms…

You’ve been on fire, and drive me right along with you. From surprise gropes on the escalator to spinning on your heels and pulling me in for turbo makeout sessions that lasted all the floors up, or until the doors opened to let someone in… whichever got in the way first.

anonymous person pressing button of lift
Photo by Kelly Lacy on Pexels.com

And you always made a show of turn to face the door and quickly wiping your mouth. Too many times you follow up leaning back into me, hand behind you, squeezing me. This was one of those times I totally got the “why” of heading to the back of the elevator when people got on with us.

More than a few times I’ve been left to find a way to rearrange without people knowing. Parituclarly difficult getting off escalators in crowds. And you. Always with that grin. You’ve also taken to surprising me with your feet while we’re sitting at dinners, toying with me, then suggesting I have something in my teeth that I should go check. Of course, I have to wait a few minutes to be able to even start to get up.

It’s crazy. And sexy as fuck.

Now it’s time to head out – I’m pretty bummed, but know we can’t stay forever, can’t keep playing forever. Have to work at least a LITTLE bit before we take more time for us.

You turn, kiss me, “I called the car, and the bellman,” you say. “Great, I’ll just look and check stuff….” you cut me off mid-sentence.

Your hand slides my zipper down, pulling me out. You’d required that it was a commando kind of day, and now I know why. You’re stroking me, I’m sensitive as it is, horny as hell and very aware that we’ll have a knock on the door at any moment.

You slide your lips over me, taking me in and pulling back. It feels amazing, and mentally I’m counting the seconds before we hear the knock.

You’re wasting no time, none. You’re working your magic, running your hand up and down me, at the same time pulling me into your mouth. I have those shots of energy flying through me, it’s extremely hard to stand, and I grab the wall for any kind of help.

I can feel myself careening toward the edge, feeling you sensing that, squeezing me, drawing me in and out. I warn you that I’m close and you pause a millisecond and tell me it’s ok. ..

And there’s a knock at the door.

You stop immediately. Grinning again. “Put that away, please. Seems we have to go.”

Oh my god. I’m dropping pre-cum, gasping for air, and nothing to do about it. I grab my jacket to hold in front of me to try to hide my crotch like a teenager as we head to the elevator after the bellman leaves.

You look up at me, “brrrr… I’m cold. I need to borrow your jacket…” you say, and flash those eyes at me. “But… I … ” I stammer… “You, what?” you say… You take the jacket from me, grab me and squeeze firmly through my pants.

“Wow, excited to be leaving, I see…” you whisper while holding on to me. “We’ll see…”

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