As an older man the challenge was to find a pretty Miss - in bars, coffee shops, stores - ask a question, apply a little charm with a spark of flirtation, the flourish of conversation pertaining to books, movies, music, or wherever such spoken moments might lead.
The common denominator a cheekiness in insisting he was only in that particular City or town for a single day, followed by a number written on a scrap of paper and pushed forward.
That he’d enjoyed such ebullient discussion, their smile, such a brief moment in time - and would dearly love to spend the evening in their company.
It was their reaction which informed him as to where things might lead, but not always.
Sometimes a blushing rebuttal, that the Miss in question was seeing someone, could light a candle burning for him. Patience leading to a slow, continual melting.
Miss doing something she really knew she shouldn’t. A perfect, dirty crime for a single, sordid night.
Often-times he might invite them to dinner, smooth any initial impression out with further spark and bluster, to then offer a nightcap, a journey to his hotel room fuelled with the static crackle of fuck-lust and deliberation on their part - and judge the reaction thereafter.
Sometimes a Miss would flat out say yes, and it was those Ladies in particular he knew he could do with whatever he wished.
If he was due to meet a number of women, a later brashness or arrogance could have interesting effects.
Many a time this lead to an evening of filth with one, who, once fucked and finished was soon shepherded away in favour of a scintillating late night foray with a naughty girl arriving a short time later.
A favourite game was to then strip them completely naked, devouring their reaction with eyes, and transferring that radiance into sumptuous soft kisses over each newly exposed area of trembling skin.
The electric instance of his hand smoothing up a skirt covered thigh, under the material into darkness, brushing dangerously higher and higher.
Perhaps a fingertip touch over the front of underwear, perhaps not - depending on how just how teasing he was feeling.
The unpick of a blouse revealing an ornate bra, kissing slowly all over it whilst reaching around to gently unpick the clasp.
Tormenting sighs brushing over hardening nipples, a soft suck, a delicate pinch of teeth.
Purrs to moans from Miss, a press of thighs together revealing intimately the extent of the rapture in which he had her caged.
Devious knowledge of her mindset becoming ever more obvious against the cotton of her panties, even if he didn’t steal a glance towards just how affected she truly was.
A blindfold, a gag, restraining cuffs with belt like clasps and a long, cold chain mocking scintillating tremors over increasingly confounded nerves.
He could to take her anywhere at this point - against the hotel wall, over the couch, atop the bed - it drove him wild to take her out into the hallway, or into a supply room and tease her.
One arm restraining both of her hands high above her head. Devious fingers mischievous between her legs.
Début manipulations of an index digit audaciously probing betwixt her lips, dipping inside her just a bit, before jostling her sin over her sensitive, tingling clit.
Sometimes language was used - the words, at times, soft and playful - in others far more scathing, luxuriant in mocking the naughty sort who would dare to do such a thing as this.
A miss bound, gagged and naked in front of a stranger, being finger-fucked by him, yet getting wetter and wetter, now fatally closer and closer to coming against his devious tactility.
Intermittently he chose to let the velocity of silence echo and sing. A Miss alone with thoughts of lust and shame as he enacted his every desire against her wanton cunt.
In moments where he and a chosen Miss had been exposed to a hallway, a number of devious instances had occurred.
Most often than not those folks stumbling upon a suited Sir fingering a naked Miss are too British and polite to say anything, scuttling off to their rooms at first sight of the sort of danger and games their own relationship had lost [or perhaps re-igniting their desires and inspiring quite the fuck!].
At one point a couple had arrived on the floor ready to go to their room. He had no idea if the girl he’s stripped was bisexual, but soon she had a business woman tonguing lavishly over her pussy, the lady herself raising her skirt enough to rub herself feverishly over the red lace revealed.
Both he and her companion unzipped and masturbated tempestuously over the woman’s face and the girl’s clit, soaking the both with hot, sticky sin - as she guided the girl towards a breathless climax.
The chosen Miss left sobbing with desire against the wall, near paused, as both men licked the spunk from the woman’s face, her partner’s hand moving to finish her off under her knickers, as she sucked the businessman’s cock clean of spunk, and hard again.
All then headed off to the couples room - the Miss guided along by her chains - and into a den of further deviance.
The businessman fucking the wife, the partner the naughty Miss - she still gagged, still purring, lost in darkness, so many orgasms, as the tongue of another woman and two hard cocks ravished her.
Another time a security guard later admitted to wanking as he watched the camera as the businessman fingered a woman he’d met spilling out of a party.
She was out with friends, leaving children at home, bored of so much mundanity between her fellow party dwellers.
It was she that had taken control, insisting they go back to his hotel.
Turning the tables she sucked his cock lavishly, delighting in his moans, his primal thrusts against her mouth ravenously using it as he would her cunt.
As he was close to cumming she spat against his cock, tightened her grip around it and milked him off all over her blouse, ruining the material, watching his eyes devour her as the cum ran under her cleavage, feeling his shaft twitch as he imagined licking and sucking her tits.
As he moved to do just that, she pushed him on the bed, loosening his cock from his suit and riding him, her libidinous desires soiling the crotch deliberately.
Pushing her hands to his chest, she knotted his tie and throttled him, roused by his fight for breath, the delight of her control, he twitched deep inside her, as she fucked him faster and harder.
On the cusp of a shattering climax, she desired his if only to know that she’d stolen him completely, his cry would pushing her shivers and delight to greater echelons.
As she came, she rolled off him, dressed herself and left.
He lay there, quivering, cock rising anew.
But she was gone. And it was all he could do to reach down and tease himself, lost in the blur of just what had happened.
He soon showered thereafter, wandering back out into the City seeking a fresh face to charm and fuck.
But keeping an eye out for the filthy little fuck who turned the tables, and acutely responsible for the restrained ridge throbbing hard between his legs.
(Source: appartengo, via agoodsubishard2find)