The Room

Discussion in 'Sexual Fetishes and Fantasies' started by melicious, Jul 18, 2006.

  1. melicious

    melicious The Old Maid
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    Posting a story I'm co-writing with a sexy wonderful friend of mine. It's sort of a he-said/she-said deal. I'd love opinions. PLEASE!
     
  2. melicious

    melicious The Old Maid
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    His side: Chapter 1 & 2

    The Room

    CHAPTER 1 - SHE

    The little green light popped on as she slid the card out of the slot in the door. Green light…a good omen meaning go.

    The door clicked open and she reached her hand into the dark room, feeling for the light switch. As the room illuminated, she closed the door behind her and turned the lights back off. She walked to the partially opened curtains covering the sliding glass doors to the private balcony. She pulled the curtains open and gazed out across the stunning beauty of the metropolis at night. So real, yet surreal.

    She lit a small soft lamp and looked around the suite.

    Perfect: a small elegant sitting room with a love seat sofa, two overstuffed chairs, a glass topped coffee table and a wet bar; a giant dressing room with separate commode, a full size hot tub, glass shower stall with multiple heads at varying heights to hit every part of the body and a vanity with a three way folding mirror; and finally the bedroom dominated by a perfectly made king size bed covered with pillows of every size and shape.

    She sighed softly. It was an expensive suite but worth every penny if the night went as she planned. And she had planned it thoroughly and thoughtfully.

    He would be here tonight. He would be hers tonight. The culmination of a seven month long online relationship that started as a two parts of an interest group and slowly but inexorably grew more and more intimate. The exchange of pictures, innocuous and explicit. But pictures can only say so much.

    Finally, the pressure built in each of them that a dangerous and short phone call in the middle of the night ended in a firm decision. They would meet.

    And that brings her to now. She planned it all, wanting to control all the details to make it perfect for him…and her.

    So, she went about setting up the room just as she wanted it: seven identical lavender colored lilac scented candles placed around the sitting room, two more on the nightstands next to the king size bed and one more left on the vanity. She placed a silver plated lighter next to one of the candles on the nightstand.

    She pulled a beautiful purple silk scarf from her bag and rolling it into a long strand, laid it neatly over the pillows on the bed.

    Then, she moved to the sitting room and pulled a bottle of Grey Goose vodka with a shaker and martini glass and arranged them on the bar next to a silver bucket filled with ice. In the small refrigerator, she placed a small bottle of bleu cheese stuffed olives and a Meyer Lemon. She put the martini glass into the small freezer compartment to frost. She knew just how he liked his martinis: straight up and dirty with a curl of lemon peel and two olives.

    She then pulled a bottle of her favorite wine from the bag and pushed it down into the ice. She set a corkscrew next to that.

    She opened and arranged a box of elegant cracker wafers on a silver plate she had brought and then opened a jar of very expensive caviar and spooned it into a small glass bowl.

    Okay, all set…now for the notes.

    She had e-mailed him telling him all he had to do was go to the front desk and tell them his first name and they would provide him with a room key. She asked him to arrive at 9:00pm. Exactly 15 minutes from now by her watch.

    She had pre-written several notes for him to find, with very specific instructions for him to follow. She knew he would.

    Finally, she found an inconspicuous spot atop an armoire and set up the small remote video camera with microphone. Then, she opened to the door to the small adjoining room she had rented. There she powered up her laptop and logged onto the camera. Soon she was looking at the room she had just left. He looked down at her watch. 8:55. Just a few minutes now.

    Chapter 2 - He

    The echo of his footfalls across the barren parking lot were practically deafening. Every sound was magnified as he could actually feel the front of his shirt throbbing with the beat of his heart. Tonight was the night. He was not sure what he was doing, but he knew he wanted to do it, none the less.

    The revolving doors whooshed him into the elegant two story lobby of the grand hotel. He stopped and unbuttoned the collar of his British tan raincoat. He shrugged it off his shoulders as he surveyed the room. It put him at ease that no one was there except for a single desk clerk. He approached the desk slowly, until the clerk looked up and caught his gaze.

    He swallowed hard and then introduced himself using only his first name.

    Without hesitation, the clerk replied, “Yes sir, very good sir,” and handed him a key.

    “Remarkable,” he thought.

    “Elevators?” he asked.

    “Beyond the white columns,” was the reply.

    He nodded and walked away from the counter, with his coat in one hand and a key to her in the other.

    He pressed the up button on the gilded wall and watched as the elevator indicator showed the descent. Finally, the door opened and he stepped inside. He looked at the key, a card actually, and pushed 17.

    As is human, he watched the numbers increase as the elevator rose, stopping with a ‘ding’ at the seventeenth floor.

    He moved into the ornate hallway and looked both directions, deciding that his destination was at the end of the hall on the right: Suite 17A. He walked that way.

    He stopped in front of the door, not knowing what, exactly, he would find on the other side, but excited beyond description to find out. He started to knock, but then remembered her instructions from their last chat…use the key and enter quietly.

    He placed the card in the slot and pulled it out again, the small green dot alighting.

    He stepped into the room and let the door close quietly behind him. There was no light in the room, except for the glow of the city beaming through the floor to ceiling sliding glass patio doors.

    He looked to his left and set the key on the table there, laying his raincoat on the velvet seated chair. That is when he saw the first note.

    Where was she, he wondered as he began to read.

    “Remove your shoes, jacket and shirt,” it started. And he did.

    “Go to the bar and fix yourself a martini straight up and dirty…but you know that,” it said next, “and uncork the wine.” He already knew it was her wine and was careful opening it not allowing any of the cork to enter the bottle.

    He placed two speared bleu-cheese olives into the drink and sipped, feeling the slow burning down his throat.

    He rose from the Victorian love seat and began to walk, half naked around the suite. Interestingly, he found his nipples hardening in the cool of the room. As he sipped, he felt an involuntary stirring in his groin.

    He moved to the sliding doors and opened them slightly, instantly smelling the lividity of the city.

    “Where is she?”

    He moved into the spacious bedroom, and stared at the perfectly made bed. He was sure he could have bounced a quarter off it. He chuckled.

    On the nighstand he saw a second note.

    “Take the lighter and light the eight candles you find in this room.”

    He did, noticing the lovely, discreet scent.

    “Go into the bathroom and remove the rest of your clothing.”

    Where was she?

    He did as told and then found another note on the vanity lying next to a soft paisley silk scarf.

    Go back to the bed and turn down the spread….carefully and place it under the foot of the bed…tie the scarf around your eyes and sit down.

    He did as instructed and for the first time realized how vulnerable he was. He felt his scrotum tighten and his erection begin in earnest.

    And that is when he smelled her.
     
  3. melicious

    melicious The Old Maid
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    Her Side


    “……. One key or two, ma’am?”

    The question rattled me momentarily. “Pardon?” I asked.

    “Ma’am, will you be needing one key or two?” he asked again, smiling respectfully, and eyeing me. I wondered what he could possibly be thinking of what he saw. It was a warm evening, yet I stood in front of him in a black half trench, black hose, and heels. Oh, if he only knew what was hiding beneath.

    “This is really happening.” I realized that my fantasy was at hand, in my control. I wanted this to go perfectly. I felt my wetness, a throbbing in my clit. I’d thought of this so many times. Ah, the sexy man behind the counter had asked me a question. I must get myself together, “this is IT!”

    “This is very important, sir; do I have your attention?”

    I believe he smirked a bit, raised his eyebrow, then nibbled on his lower lip as he nodded affirmation.

    “I will take one key now, and you will keep the other for the time being.” I think he caught his breath. I giggled, thinking, “It’s not for you, my silly young friend, you cannot handle what this night will bring” as I felt the silk belt of my garter caressing my ass. “A dapper man, one I expect will even raise your brow, will present himself at your counter at nine. He is simply to tell you his name. When he does, you will treat him with the utmost respect, and do nothing more than hand him the second key to this room.” I handed him a piece of paper onto which I had neatly scrolled my new lover’s first name, and a folded bill. I smiled and winked, took my key from his hand, and turned on my heel toward the elevator.

    I knew he was watching me as I walked away. At the elevator I dropped my bag to the floor. I had moments to wait; it seemed the elevator rested between each floor. I eyed him in the golden reflection as I fetched my compact from my purse. Slowly, I checked my lipstick, refreshing it just a touch. As the elevator called my turn I replaced the compact in my purse, and bent slowly at the waist, bending my knees just a bit, to retrieve the bag I had dropped to the floor, “If you only knew….” I thought. I knew he could see the curve of my ass and the lacey top of my garters as I retrieved the bag. I swayed my hips as I entered to the elevator humming in my head the words “I want you to want me” with a seductive smile on my lips. The thought of him licking his lips made me wetter. But my mind was on HIM. I knew I had to be quick. I’d afforded myself just enough time to complete my tasks, without having to wait and think for any extra time.

    Even sliding the key into the door made my heart beat faster. The door clicked quietly and the light turned green. The point of no return, “this IS it!” I entered slowly, searched for the light and flipped the switch. “This will not do,” I knew right away. I returned the switch to its resting position, and went to the sliding doors. “Perfect.” I opened the draperies, releasing the glow of the city, flooding the room. “MMmmmm.” I stood there a moment, memorizing the skyline, while I loosened the tie to my trench. I felt like a queen as I pranced around the room completing my tasks. Each padded thud of my heels made me breathe harder. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror of the vanity; at that moment I loved every bit of myself. My cleavage perched beautifully atop the bustier, my waste perfectly enveloped in black, my legs shimmering in the black stockings, silk straps attaching them to the belt. My mind went back to the desk clerk as I peered at my lips, recalling that I had indeed just retouched them. “Relax” I thought to myself, “this is IT!”

    I closed my eyes as I thought of making love by candlelight, and then remembered that I must be quick. I fondled the ten candles and contemplated the vision still in my head. I placed seven throughout the sitting room: upon the bar, the glass topped table, in visual and seductive spots. I placed one on the vanity, where it would glow from all three mirrors. Finally I placed two on the bedside table, next to a lighter and a note. I placed the silk scarf on the pillows.

    I went to the wet bar and stocked it with the makings for his martinis. “Dirty,” he’d said to me. Oh how I hoped that was true. I placed my wine into the ice, turning it perfectly to reveal the label. It must all be perfect. I thought of our chat, remembering that I had told him, warned him even, that I do not take my wine if the cork has been broken. “Do not forget, my man,” I thought to myself. He would be punished if there was cork floating atop my favorite drink. I sat out the polished corkscrew, and placed his martini glass in the freezer.

    Finally, I took myself to the armoire. I discreetly perched a camera atop, next to the lavish plant. I turned to take in the room. The notes were in place. Every step was perfectly planned in my mind. I closed my eyes and played it through one more time. Doubting myself, I picked up the scarf and placed it on the marble counter in the elegant bathroom; I wanted the bed perfect, pristine, a temple.

    I let myself out of the room and into the adjoining room, making sure the door was left unlocked, so as not to attract his attention. I had only moments. I powered up my laptop and rested it on the desk in the adjoining room. I reminded myself that I was not being rude and crude; this was my fantasy, my one chance, and I would not allow myself to miss or forget a single breath. I quickly tested my control of the camera, double checking the placement, and focused it on the door. I then went to my own sliding glass doors, opened the drapes and vented the room. I stood there lost in my thoughts, wondering what the voyeurs across the way must be thinking as they sighted me in the door in my corset and stockings. I imagined him, my imagined peeper, gasping and feeling himself lose control of his loins as he found himself erect.

    A click… I questioned myself. Had I really heard it or was it my imagination? I turned quickly to catch sight of him entering the room. He held the door open tentatively, as had I. I watched as he squared his shoulders, and his erect silhouette entered the room. “This IS IT!” I almost heard him thinking the same thing. We had both waited so long. I swear he knows more about me than anyone, every part of me. This IS it. We have both wanted this. “It’s perfect.”

    I watched as he took in the room. He paused as his eyes adjusted, and he seemed to appreciate the glow of the city lights, just as I had intended. He turned to his left, and placed the room key on the table, and draped his jacket over the chair. I swear I saw him jump just a bit when he saw the first note. He paused, and then did as I’d directed. He removed his shoes and placed them neatly into the closet. I liked what I was seeing. He moved with grace and intent. As I watched, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, meticulously, professionally. He was not rude or rushed, which comforted me, encouraged me; he was enjoying the moment, the experience. “This is perfect,” and I sighed. First he placed his undershirt on the hanger, and then his dress shirt; he buttoned the second and third buttons to keep it all crisp. “Mmmmm, this is beautiful.”

    He walked, barefoot, to the wet bar. I couldn’t help but watch; I love a man’s bare feet. His naked chest heaved perfectly. I swear, he was exactly as I imaged. We had conversed so long, exchanged so perfectly, that I had honestly seen this man a million times in my mind’s eye. He fixed his martini; “dirty”. I could feel my heart catch in my throat. “Perfect.” I watched as he removed the cork from the wine bottle. I could see by the look on his face, he remembered. He speared two olives and placed them in his drink, and those sexy bare feet carried him to the loveseat, where he rested. I could feel my throat burn as I watched him take the first swallow, and close his eyes.

    He rose from the couch after a few moments, moving first to the sliding doors, standing in the exact spot where I had memorized the skyline. He opened the door to vent the room, and I smirked as the breeze from my patio doors left the hair on the back of my naked neck standing on end. I heard him whisper, “Where IS she?”

    He went to the bedside table and found the next note. I watched as he lit eight of the ten candles. He obeyed perfectly, leaving the two candles on the bedside table untouched. Then I watched as he went into the bathroom. I peered the reflection in the mirror. He removed his trousers, after emptying his pockets into the tray on the marble counter. He folded them perfectly, and hung them on the hanger on the back of the bathroom door. I smiled as I realized he wore nothing under his trousers. I could imagine him, working throughout the day, feeling his cock caressed by his trousers, knowing some of what the night would bring. “How many times today did he have to duck to privacy to allow his hard cock time to relax?” By this time I could smell my own warm scent, and wondered how long I could hold out.

    He found the last note. It directed him to the bed, where he was to remove the bedspread, “neatly”, and place it under the foot of the bed. We had discussed it. I knew he understood. He was to fold the spread back meticulously. At the foot of the bed he was to place the folded spread under the foot of the bed, folding the sides around the casters holding the foot of the bed afloat. “Am I being too picky?” I wanted everything perfect. No matter who moved where, when, or how quickly, no toes were going to be attacked in our dance of passion. If either of us fell onto the bed, it would be in passion and lust, not dancing about a stubbed toe. I planned it completely.

    I watched as he folded the spread down revealing the pillows, the scarf dancing around his neck. I imagined the caress of the silk, and my own nipples awoke and danced. He folded the spread a second time, and a third. I watched his cock grow, slowly, and dance delicately in front of him. I ached as it brushed the top sheet as he arched his back to fold the bedspread a fourth time. All at once he stood erect, all too alert. What did I miss? My mind reeled; my heart stopped one beat short of my breath.

    I watched as his erect cock, perfectly arched, led him around the foot of the bed. “Shit!” I said it out loud. I’d left the trench draped across the foot of the bed. “Fuck! So much for perfect!” I punished myself repeatedly in my mind, knowing I had ruined the entire night.

    His back arched perfectly, what a specimen. He picked up the jacket, and brought it to his face. He seemed to breathe it in. I could hear him think, “Sweetpea, it’s her favorite, of course.” He walked to the armoire and casually opened the door. He brought the collar of the jacket to his nose one last time and paused, closing his eyes, and then placed the jacket lovingly onto a hanger, closed the door to the cabinet and paused. It seemed like forever I looked at the arched back of his neck, the curve of his back and buttocks.

    He looked up, seriously. I gasped as he arched an eyebrow at the camera, smiled coyly, and turned, walking back to the bed. He folded the spread perfectly, two more times. He pulled it over the foot of the bed, and tucked it underneath, exquisitely around the casters. He swayed gently to the bedside table, where he picked up his martini, taking another swallow which emptied the glass. I could tell in his eyes that he adored the fire it created in his throat and abdomen. His cock danced for a fraction of a moment. He moved to the corner of the bed, as I had directed in the final note. He sat, one leg over the foot, one leg over the side (perfectly), donned the blindfold, and waited.
     
  4. Rose

    Rose Resident Sexy Grandma
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    mmmmmmmmmmmmmm - can I watch?
    Very intriguing intro, Melicious. I have a vivid picture of the entire scenario, and am anxiously awaiting "She's" grand entrance, and that first touch. :)
     
  5. HerHubby

    HerHubby The SF Poet Laureate
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    :slong I'm thinking "Nobel Prize for Literature" or at least a Pulitzer! :penisdance :rose :woohoo