Believe me. There are greater mysteries in the universe.
Here's just one of the ways I do it.
Every city that has a major airport has a variety of hotels that
primarily to a traveling business clientele. Salesmen. Executives.
Administrators at a convention. And these hotels all have a bar,
guys you find in these bars on a weekday night all have one thing
common: They honestly believe that someday, some hot lonely woman
just going to walk up to them and say, "I know this sounds
crazy, but do
you wanna fuck?" Not a prostitute mind you -- a real honest-to-god
business person like them who just needs a little company on a
night away from home, yatta, yatta, yatta ... It's the fantasy
makes their jobs worth while -- the promise that someday (who
really might happen. And even though they always end up alone,
hotel rooms, with a LapTop or a stroke magazine in one hand and
their cock in the
other, they keep believing….
And I just keep giving them reason to believe.
Typically, I show up late - 10 p.m. at the earliest. I cover my
frail 5'7'' frame in a white blouse and dark business suit and
curly long black or red hair (depends on my mood…) back
in a conservative bun. The final touches: white
or thin sheer shiny-skinlike panty hose, conservative in-the-office
makeup (except for lipstick
that's a touch to red) and dark rimmed glasses (for that
look.) I take a seat at the far end of the bar, near the back,
out my electronic data organizer, which I keep in my purse for
occasions. I make a few (fake) calls on the cellular phone, have
drinks, make a few notes in my datebook, and wait for the sharks
Oh, one other thing -- my business suits have a slit skirt so
little leg is always showing. Quite a bit actually, when I inadvertently
(whoops!) reach for a cocktail napkin or a pack of matches on
side of the bar. Was that a white garter belt over a smooth tanned
thigh? You'd think their eyes will pop right out of their heads
The guys that approach first are the funniest. You sometimes can
actually see them pocket their wedding ring as they make their
"You must be a busy woman. Why don't you take a break. Let
me buy you a
drink," they begin, bravely.
If they are losers, I send them packing before they can finish
first line. "Sorry, I'm waiting for someone" usually
does the trick.
If they're not too bad, I send them away with a smile and a "Maybe
And occasionally, when they're really hot, I invite them to sit
immediately - like a spider might a tell a fly to relax, take
From there it's typically two drinks and too much meaningless
conversation before they make the suggestion to "head upstairs."
"It's so noisy down here. Let's go find a place to talk,"
In a moment, we're on the elevator. The really agressive ones
for you then and there, take your hand, and try to give you "the
I want you. I need you. Let's make passionate love, their eyes
course, they're really thinking: Oh my god, I gonna get laid.
wait to tell the guys at work.
What happens next? Their fantasy comes true. In a darken hotel
glass tumblers full of cheap whisky roll off the end table and
floor and the "woman" of their dreams drags her sharp
their back, they finally get some. That's what they think, anyway.
One night, one man, in particular has been my absolute hotel-bar
favorite -- an advertising executive from Milano (he said), a
muscular Italian man in his 40s with salt-and-pepper hair, the
look in his eyes and the most rich smelling cologne. When we got
room, he took me gently into his strong arms and kissed me. His
and long muscular tongue tasted like Cognac and fine cigars.
"I want you, Stasha" he whispered in my ears, as his
lips caressed my
ears and his tongue made a cool titillating trail down my neck
I moaned as his hands and fingers unbuttoned my coat, my blouse,
deftly unhooked my front-snapping bra. His strong hands were now
in deep worship of my small sensitive breasts.
"What beautiful tits. You have the tits of a little girl,"
His teeth and lips surrounded a nipple, then softly bit down,
rolled and pinched the other in his strong hard fingers.
I was shaking. I was getting hard, or was it wet? I needed to
"Get undressed," I commanded -- my usual command in
He smiled. "You first."
What could I do? I took off my shoes. I took off my glasses. I
my hair. Then I unhooked my skirt and let it fall to the floor,
to hide my growing maleness between my thighs.
"You like what you see?" I asked, adjusting each garter
and letting my
hands trace the shape of my long legs, my hips, my ass, my stomach,
rub my breasts that medicine, not God, had given me.
"I like it this much," he said, glancing at the rising
mound in this
"Then take off your clothes."
Now he complied. First his tie. Then his shirt. His shoes. He
let his belt and pants fall to the floor.
Now I thought my eyes would pop out of my head. Beneath the straining
confines of a pair of loose silk boxers was the most glorious
"Do you like what you see?" he asked, tracing the outline
monstrosity in his pants.
I answered by getting on my hands and knees before him.
"This much" I said with a smile.
I pulled the waist band of his boxers down slowly to let my eyes
feast on it all. Thick black curly hair. The wide base, as thick
ax handle. The shaft, long and veiny and seeming to never end.
head -- an uncut perfect marvel. My hands held it first, a hot
hanging trophy of manhood that made my own look like a toy. As
to stroke it, it rose in a rhythmic progression as his heart and
pumped it full of blood and lust.
My lips tasted it first: rich, warm, smooth and salty.
"That's it, Stasha. Suck it," he urged. His skin was
I would surprise him: I breathed deeply, relaxed my throat and
carefully into my mouth and down my throat, swallowed him to the
one long straight plunge, stopping only when I could feel his
hairs on my nose and his balls on my chin. A long smooth stroke
then back in, over and over, with only a break to breath and to
shaft from base to tip and taste the musky flavors of his ass
"Oh yeah, suck me hard, Stasha" he begged. And I did.
Deep and urgent,
with his hands on my head and my hands on his hairy ass, guiding
deeper inside with each stroke.
"Oh, stop, I'm gone cum," he screamed.
And I did stop, because I had other plans for that load -- perhaps
only he would give me tonight.
"Get on the bed," I said, "I want you to fuck me."
In a second he was on his back waiting at attention -- and I mean
I moved beside him on the bed and kissed him passionately, careful
not reveal the real source of my pleasure, which strained and
my silk panties.
"Now I want you to fuck me in the ass. You up for that?"
grabbing his cock.
"Then we got to do it my way," I explained. "A
cock this big could hurt
me, so you have to let me be on top and you cannot force me down
until I say it's OK. Understand?"
He promised. He would have promised me the keys to his car at
From my purse, I produced a condom and tube of clear lubricant
prepared the missile for launch. He just lay there staring at
ceiling, obviously loving it. Who was going to believe this? he
thinking. A blow job and butt fuck from some hot chick at the
would be the envy of every ad executive he'd ever meet -- because
sure going to tell them the story, with all the gory details.
Just keeping fantasizing, I thought. With a cock like this you're
allowed a few fantasies in life. I turned to face away from him,
straddled him, and lowered myself gently down onto his cock.
"Oh Christ," he said. "This is unreal."
Yep. But his cock sure wasn't. The head alone, even bathed generously
thick slippery jelly, was enough to spend my ass into a spasm
-- a sharp
warm mixture of pain and deep sensations that slipped quickly
ecstasy. Another cm…. Then another. I worked up the courage
back and let his magnificent tower rise into my heavens.
His moan told me this wouldn't last long. Nor would his promise.
hands went quickly to my hips as he drove himself deeper inside
again and again. I held onto his sack as his tool worked inside,
my long nails gently across the flesh on his balls. He screamed.
shook. He slammed himself inside me and came, oblivious to the
sensations of my own orgasm, pouring into my hand and onto the
sheet… mmm, so sweet…
I woke up….oh, my god, was it just a dream…
where is he…
where am l…I see….
I love you…
here is your reward…
got to go…damn meeting…
see you again…I hope…