I got the following email at 6:55 PM Tuesday night:
Damn! I just got horrible news…my flight is delayed out of Sioux Falls, and I now don’t land in Denver until 10pm… Probably wouldn’t get to the hotel until a bit after 10:30pm.I’ve absolutely been dreaming about connecting with you tonight, and would love to still get together…just not sure if you have the opportunity to meet up that late?
Let me know…would love to see you and have some fun together, but fully realize if the timing won’t work for you…
To which I responded:
That totally stinks! I was dreaming about you, too 🙂
I can make it work if you can. I don’t know how attentive you need to be tomorrow, but if you’re up for it (pun intended) so am I. I’ll just catch a quick nap in my truck while I’m waiting for you (if I can, I am SO excited to see you and stuff). Beware, though, that I just got out of the shower and I am smelling SUPER good right now — I might not smell quite as luscious later. Just sayin’…
You can text me back or give me a call.
And then HE said:
Perfect! I’m absolutely “up” for it! I’ll force myself to not get a speeding ticket, and will see you in the hotel lobby around that time. I’ll text as soon as I land to give you an ETA.
I’m fucking getting hard as I type this…I can’t WAIT to get my mouth in between your legs again. Your pussy juice tasted SO good when you were cumming, I’ve GOT to drink you up again. And I’m SO excited thinking about being able to be inside you too…
Now, that was a nice text! And it turns out he was excited.
He texted me at 10:15 to let me know that he landed, was in his car, and the directions said he would arrive at 10:45.
And that’s exactly what happened.
I was supposed to meet him in the lobby when he got there, so I walked into the hotel at about 10:40. There was a long line of people standing at the front desk, all of them angry and rustling about through their things, some of them on their phones. Being an ex-front desk agent at numerous hotels, I suspected I knew what had happened, but I listened in on some conversations to confirm my suspicions. After listening to parts of 4 separate conversations, I knew that the hotel had been overbooked and that they were “walking” guests (paying for the guests’ rooms at a different hotel). I hadn’t heard anyone say as much, but I have been in the situation so many times it practically brought back nightmares.
As I sat there on a lobby couch waiting for Mr. AM, I wondered how he would react to/handle this situation.
He arrived at 10:46 and I greeted him by the door. He noticed the line at the desk and said, “Wow, it’s really busy for being so late.”
I answered, “I think the hotel is overbooked. At least that’s the impression that I get from what’s going on here and what I can hear from the people talking.”
His response was immediate, “But I have a reservation!”
“I know, and they will honor that reservation, but it will be at a different hotel. Let’s just go check in first and see. I could be totally wrong.”
I wasn’t wrong at all. I could see that Mr. AM was getting upset — who wouldn’t? It was late and he had been getting the runaround all evening — but he was handling it well. The agent explained to us that we would have to drive to a different hotel down the highway about 10 minutes, and then told us the name of the hotel. I am familiar with the location because I drive by it every day at work. I looked at the agent and said, “That’s farther than 10 minutes away. If we drive there, how do we know that hotel won’t be overbooked, too?”
“They aren’t,” she reassured me and then called the other hotel to let them know we’d need a room. While she was making our new reservation, I explained to Mr. AM that hotels overbook all the time. “Heads in beds” is their universal motto. Having to eat the cost for a few rooms every once in a while is just the price of doing business.
The agent handed a map to Mr. AM and told him how to get to the other location. I asked him if he just wanted to follow me and, as we were walking back to our cars, I said to him, “All this waiting will make it so much better. All the anticipation building.”
He agreed with a laugh.
We got to our cars and he pulled in behind me to follow.
It turns out that he has a BMW 😦
FYI, I have a very strong opinion about BMW drivers that I haven’t shared here, but it is definitely NOT a good one. Regardless, it didn’t surprise me that’s what he drives.
When we arrived and were standing in the lobby, I had a strong feeling of deja-vu. There were a lot of people in the lobby and a couple of them seemed upset. The agents were busy, but no one was leaving the hotel, so I took that as a good sign.
As luck would have it, it turns out that we got the last available room at the replacement hotel! And, I am glad for the new location, it was a much nicer.
This entire time we hadn’t yet touched. Not hands. Not anything. Not even a kiss hello on the cheek. It was strange.
However, when we got to our room, it was something different entirely. He put his bags down next to the TV, turned around to face me, and started kissing me ravenously! We ran our hands though each other’s hair for a minute, enjoying the moment. But, it wasn’t long before both of us were undressed and he told me to get into the bed and “get comfortable”.
I unmade the extremely luxurious mattress (remember, I sleep on a couch at home. Every bed I get to sleep in is luxurious!) and climbed in. I would like to make this a nice, erotic story, but the fact is: he ate my pussy again and it was totally awesome, then we fucked and it was okay (I brought condoms, but he used his own before it was even an issue – awesome, right?), then we had a brief awkward time and then I left.
After all the excitement and waiting, the entire event only lasted 45 minutes. That’s pretty much how I figured it would happen; but, I’ll have to admit, I wish we could have actually “done it” at least one more time. Once I get started I am hard to shut off. I could have cum all night long and then left for work the next morning with a huge smile on my face, but it was late and he had to be up at 5 the next morning to catch his flight out.
When we finished, he went to the bathroom to clean up. While he was in there I thought, Maybe I should put my clothes on and go. I think that’s what I am supposed to be doing right now, but the bed (and the pillows!) were SO comfortable I wanted to lay there and luxuriate a little longer.
He came out of the bathroom and put on his underwear. That was my clue that it was time to get dressed and go home! I didn’t think I would end up spending the night with him. I didn’t actually want to, but was a little disappointed because I thought, for the way he was talking/emailing earlier, it would be more of a sex-fest than it turned out to be.
When he climbed back into the bed, I said, “I don’t mean to be awkward, but I don’t know what I should be doing here. Do I go home? Do you want me to stay? How does this work?”
His answer was, “Well, I need to call home and check in and I certainly can’t do that while you’re here.”
“Okay then… I guess that answers my question. I had fun tonight, can we do this again?”
“Of course we can. Tonight was kind of crazy with all the travel problems. Next week I am traveling again. How about two weeks from now? Tuesday.”
“I’ll probably have my period.”
“Okay. Three weeks then. Tuesday. I will let you know more when I get back from my trip next week.”
At this point I was finished getting dressed and had walked back over to the bed to kiss him good-bye. It was odd. His kisses are different before and after sex. Before sex, they are passionate and yearning, searching for pleasure, erotic and all-consuming. After sex they’re like kisses you give to your Grandmother. It was like he flipped a switch or something.
I left the room and felt very strange walking through the lobby, past the girls that had checked us in not even an hour before..
The next morning, when I knew he would be at the airport waiting for his flight to leave, I sent him a text. “I really enjoyed last night. It was totally worth the wait. Have a great day. Travel safe.”
“Absolutely! Until next time.”
It just wasn’t the same as my sexy Loverman.