Finally weekend. Jet-lagged but horny from the flight, we woke in our airport hotel room at 10 a.m. Sun blasted through curtains, city skyline and distant runways in view. Anne slipped from bed in her short white nightie. Legs tanned, skin flawless. Deep cleavage teased her full, perky tits. No bra today, at my urging. Nipples poked through sometimes. She didn’t mind.
Quick shower. She emerged in her favorite blue summer dress. Short, loose, halter neck. No bra, tits bouncing free. I kissed her, hand on ass—bare. No panties either. My cock twitched. She grinned, slipped on a thong last minute for the outing. Risky with the short hem.
The Stopover
Light lunch in the lobby cafe. Hotel buzzing with transients. We hit Mobilio furniture store nearby, killing time before tomorrow’s flight. Hunted a living room piece for our serviced suite. Kids? Off with local friends to Iron Man flick till evening. Store vast, aisles endless. No luck till clearance: discounted display sofa. Perfect. Added new bed sheets, duvet. Car packed, no room.
Jérôme appeared. Student driver, athletic build, weekend gig. Smiley, chatty. Loaded our van fast, eyes lingering on Anne’s curves. Passenger seat blocked in my rental. She hopped front with him. I led in car, glancing back. They laughed, close. Belt crushed her dress, outlining braless tits, hinting bare pussy.
Hotel lot. Double-parked. Anne beeped keycard, buzzed me up. Elevators hummed, corridor voices echoed past suitcases. Unloaded boxes to suite. Kitchenette: she brewed coffee. I snuck behind, neck kiss. Hand under dress—dripping wet. ‘No thong outside,’ she whispered. ‘Legs spread whole ride. He stared at thighs, tits.’ Jérôme eyed her no-bra obvious. My finger slipped in her soaked pussy. She moaned soft.
Helped unload. He unpacked for assembly, per service. Fingered her quick again while he worked. She trembled, close. Intercom buzzed—missing box in car. Ten-minute round trip.
Anne held sofa top, tiptoeing. Dress hiked, bare ass and glistening pussy flashed. Jérôme knelt, stared. Rose behind, hand on cheek, slid to slit. She parted legs, arched. Fingers plunged her cunt. She gasped. He dropped, face in. Tongue lapped lips, clit sucked hard. Devoured her hole. Spasms hit. Orgasm neared.
The Transit
My buzz saved her. She dashed to bathroom, freshened. Back, changed. Bending low, thighs wide—pussy winked. Coquettish smile at me. Jérôme discreet, but hard.
I stood behind, hand between legs. Soaked. He knelt front, lifted hem. Fingers on clit, mine in pussy. She untied halter. Dress pooled. ‘Suck my nipples.’ He latched on, hand circling clit.
Shut blinds—city lights flickered. She stripped nude. Grabbed condoms from suitcase. Knelt, unzipped him. Thick cock sprang. Stroked, then sucked hungry. Eyes on his pleasure.
Sofa doggy. Ass up, hand on clit. ‘Fuck me. Want cum.’ I kissed her. Jérôme rolled condom, she guided. Slow thrust—filled her. ‘So thick!’ He pounded. She screamed, came violent, gripping balls.
He exploded. I took turn, slow deep. She begged more. Jérôme back, hard again. She sucked raw cock, tongue swirling. We synced—his load in mouth, mine flooding pussy. She quaked, endless orgasms.
Shower steam rose. He slipped out quiet. We kissed under water, bodies slick. ‘Never cum like that.’ Anonymity fueled it. Flight tomorrow. Keycard returned at desk. Raw memory lingers.