It’s 3:00am…..a time that is known to scientists in the field of theoretical physics who study time as ‘fucking early’. I’m curled up in a large, sumptuously upholstered armchair, and the night Porter has just put a couple of half-tree-sized logs on the dying embers. He asked if madam needed anything, and upon my polite refusal bowed courteously and retired to his post.
I’m here because I know if I try to go to sleep having a) travelled and b) arrived in the early hours, I’m fit for fuck all the next day. Way better for me if I stay up, deal with the business the following morning, and then take an afternoon nap. Don’t ask me why my body clock works like this, it just does.
In the far distance, across into the dining room there’s some activity in the kitchen. Hotels of this standard are staffed 24/7/365. You can get anything you want any time of the day or night.
Someone in a waitresses uniform flits through the darkness at the end of the dining room and picks up some silverware and puts it on a tray…..early breakfast for someone. She looks cute, what little I can see of her. Bare legs. I like that…under that hideous dark green uniform dress there’s only her panties between her sex and the outside world. If she takes the stairs near me, I’ll be able to see.
She doesn’t. Boo. 3:30. Maybe I should go to my room? No. I daren’t. If I do I’ll crash out, wake up with a thundering headache at 8:30, tear around like a mad thing, shower, dress, eat, and rock up at what could be a life-changing meeting a mental and physical wreck. Better I’m just a bit tired than that.
I move in the chair. Since I’m curled up, knees together, feet to my left, that involves separating my knees, and…..mmmmm a brief kiss of feminine scent. You know, I really would like to like myself out….how weird is that? For a moment, I find myself sitting cross-legged on this vast armchair. Panties stretched tight over weeping hole……I let the heat from the fireplace warm the air and it carries faint whisps of my scent with it. Damnit….now I’m getting horny as well. Maybe I better go to my room after all. Miss Brain chuckles derisively, and ends with a scornful “Oh for fucks sake!” I reach a hand under my skirt and my middle finger traces down between my puffy labia. No…I couldn’t….not here in a hotel lounge? I crane my neck around the back of the chair…night Porter in his little office, feet up, reading a book…and a fair distance away too. I look round the room….there’s a mirror in which I can just see his office…or part of it.
My finger returns to my crotch, and then worms under the damp material. I cast another look round….the grand staircase sweeps up round both sides, and I can see no-one. (Oh I wish that waitress had used the staircase…especially if she walked by the rail…I’d have seen right up her uniform!)
My finger finds my wetness and my clit….I swear it’s getting bigger. I circle it and feel my heart rate increase, I feel I need to breathe deeper too…and my sense of smell sharpens…when I was a teenager, I used to call it ‘feeling fresh’. No good….I can’t resist sinking a finger deep inside myself. My G-spot is so sensitive. Even grazing it lightly sends sparks directly to my bladder. Thoughts of The Lovely Chris fucking me with his perfectly curved cock flit through me….and Emily who knows how to finger me to perfection….not to mention Dani, who is definitely learning! The three closest people to me seem to merge into one as Miss Brain scampers between them.
Awkwardly I manage to get a finger to circle my bum hole. Can’t quite get it inside in this position, but Miss Brain instantly compensates and tells me it’s Dani’s tongue.
Fuck…I’m nearly there! Already. Should I hold off? No, better not….that will be a definite squirt! I don’t want to,risk putting the fire out! (Hehehe) I let the cum build…..and build….and build……just as I arrive at the point, my head tilts back as it always does when it can. My eyes go with it of course…..
….and find themselves looking right up the dress of the waitress. She’s standing about 12ft away from me, one foot on one stair, the other on a lower step. This gives me the perfect view up her skirt. No, of course she doesn’t want me to see….she saw what I was doing, and how close I was getting and simply stopped there so I could cum in peace. Seeing her panties tipped me though. I didn’t even blink as I stared unashamedly at her. No chance to wonder if she’s straight, bi or what….no chance to wonder if she’s shaved or trimmed….too far away to detect a damp spot. Even so….I could imagine pulling those purple undies aside and pushing my tongue up her.
When I came down from my cum she was no longer in my sight. I stretched out my legs and felt myself leaking into my undies as my vagina contracted. Mmmm….I know girls who loathe that feeling but I love it. Guys get it after they’ve shot their loads….a sort of dribble as their cocks deflate.
I was just giving myself a nice internal squeeze when the waitress appeared beside me with an un-asked for cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits. She just smiled. Not a leery, sexy grin, just a slight widening of her mouth and a twinkle in her eye.
And I knew! I just quite simply knew what she was going to do immediately after she left me.
I would have given anything to watch!
By lunchtime tomorrow, I will either be walking on the clouds, or depressed as fuck. I’ll fill you in later.
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