Chapter 169

I saw her on one side of the dance floor, laughing, chatting and flirting with a couple who radiated a sexuality so confident that I could see more than a few other patrons either frightened or jealously angry at them, although Rachel, I knew, would have been attracted like a cat to a catnip mouse.
He was wearing skin-tight, gleaming black pants and a black shirt, silk-shiny. She, I saw from the back at first, had a legs-hugging skirt over knee-high boots with 4" heels, and a high-collared blouse, skin-tight across her back.
Rachel glanced around in the middle of a sentence, flirting with her whole body in her dress which made it so easy, and caught sight of me across the club, raising a shapely arm to beckon me over.
So things had been going well, then.
The night before, we had planned this with our usual care as we settled into the hotel and unpacked.
"I like the sound of this Faith," she said as she peeled her maroon blouse over her head, leaving her in a simple satin bra as I was trying to work out if we had been given enough coat hangars.
"Huh?" I asked, my brain trying to switch tracks and process what she had just said.
She stretched, popping half her vertebrae and thrusting her breasts forwards so that I lost all track of where I was and whether she had just asked me a question or not.
She rolled her head to look at me, saw me appreciating her chest and, smiling sweetly, bent down until her face, in my line of sight, was just above the down-swelling curves of her breasts. That didn't really help.
"I said," she continued as she reached behind herself to undo the zip on her skirt, "I like the sound of this Faith."
"Definitely promising," I agreed, without taking my eyes off the creamy flesh of her cleavage until she straightened up and pushed her skirt down her legs, showing me mesh, see-through panties that she doesn't normally wear with business clothes.
This was the fifth trip that we had taken like this, as I packed up my laptop and took my freelance writing on the road while her new job as an industrial relations troubleshooter took her around the country from corporate hotel suite to corporate hotel suite.
"Why are you still fully dressed?" she asked as her skirt pooled around her bare feet.
I abandoned my attempts at unpacking, and peeled my regulation black T-shirt over my head and threw it into the corner.
We have a routine now. The first night, we christen the bed. The second night, if possible, we go out to a decent alternative club and try to find someone to invite into it.
So far, the most difficult bit has been finding the right club. Finding someone delicious, adventurous and available had, so far, been comparatively easy.
Rachel had her bra off by the time I was stepping out of my jeans, and got sufficiently distracted by the extremely flattering, second-skin shorts I was wearing that I had time to close the distance between us, wrap her in my arms and throw her back onto the bed.
She laughed, spontaneously, and the sound morphed into a gasp and then happy moans as I wrapped my lips around one cool nipple and sucked, at first gently and then with increasing pressure, feeling it stretch up between my teeth until she hissed and clutched at my head.
I changed to her other nipple, my fingertips trailing gently over and around the breast my mouth had just vacated, as her arms fell back over her head in surrender, until the pressure once more grew too much and she gasped, lifting her torso off the bed as her hands clutched at the sheets.
I moved my head to the side, tracing my lips down the curve of her breast to meet her ribcage, then following the line where the two joined, back onto her front, then down, over her bellybutton and onto the lace edging of her panties.
Her sighs of pleasure gained in depth and feeling as my lips brushed over the mesh fabric and over the rise of her mound beneath it. I traced the outline of her shaven lips, from end to end, and blew softly through the mesh, making her arch off the bed towards my mouth.
Years ago, she challenged me to make her cum without taking her panties off. I succeeded, by being gentle and unrelenting until she was sobbing for release. Ever since, we've done that as warm-up in a new bed.
I pressed my nose against her clit and licked over her lips, letting her feel the pressure and the moistness but not actual contact with my tongue. She shuddered underneath me, and her hands writhed over her breasts, seeking out her nipples.
I opened my mouth wide and pressed down, letting her feel the tips of my teeth before I closed, scraping my teeth over the length of her lips, as she shuddered and groaned deep in her throat.
I closed my lips around the top of her slit, squeezing the flesh around her clit and sucking hard.
She had been day-dreaming of this all day - we both had - and she came with a slow build that climaxed not loudly but long.
Her panties were wet as I pulled them off her limp legs, and as her eyes fluttered open I sucked them into my mouth with visible relish.
Her face twisted into a half stoned, half sultry and all hungry expression as I peeled my shorts off my already hard cock and stepped out of them.
I walked onto the bed and knelt over her chest, bending my cock down until she grabbed it at the base and swallowed it, craning her neck upwards so she could take it to the back of her throat.
I had to grab her head and pull back before I came, ignoring her pout as I slid down her body, lifting her knees and folding them back, holding her legs spread wide with my hips as I slid into her in one quick, wet thrust.
I fucked her steadily and hard, my mouth moving from hers to her neck, her breasts, her nipples, to the edges of her breasts and back to her mouth until we came together, her screaming at the hotel room ceiling and pinching my nipples as hard as she could, me biting the muscle on her shoulder.
As we lay recovering, before I released her legs or pulled out, she said "So, Faith?"
The next night, when she returned from wherever her office was that day, I had takeaway waiting and had already showered and shaved everything south of my chin.
She ate ravenously, unwinding with a stream-of-consciousness dump about the incompetence she had to face from the locals as, the good partner who had been lounging about with only a deadline for company, I offered sympathy until she was relaxed enough to chew before swallowing, taste before gulping and have her own shower.
She came out naked and still damp, and sorted through her clothes with a faintly tuneful whistle as I lay on the bed with a raging erection and struggled with our self-imposed pre-club abstinence.
She found a maroon G-string to go under a Chinese-style maroon dress that had a large, circular opening over her breasts, fitted her not quite like a second skin but definitely like latex, and which made it quite obvious that she both wasn't wearing a bra, and didn't need to either. High heels left the best pair of legs I have every seen exposed to view high enough to invite hopeful double-takes.
"Well?" she asked, pivoting for my inspection.
"I refuse to answer, on the grounds that I am unable to string a coherent sentence together," I replied, every instinct in my body screaming at me to rip the dress off her with my teeth.
She laughed, and headed back to the bathroom to do her make-up. "Get dressed, don Juan!"
I had tight black boots over my calves and over black latex pants. The pants had a silver-buckled belt, and a white shirt with ruffles at the wrists and down the half-open front tucked into them.
We had matching spiked collars, and she added studded bracelets on her wrists, the rest of her arms bare. She put her hair up in chopsticks, I let mine down around my shoulders.
When we got to the club, she headed straight in while I paid the taxi driver and then, the door not being too busy, struck up a conversation with the bouncer, finding out a little about the regular clientele, a little about the music, a little about the neighbourhood and the safest way to head back to our hotel.
I managed to delay my entry long enough that by the time I was down the stairs, she had found us some friends.
This was our fifth time hunting, and always so far it had been singles - three girls and one defiantly confident boy it had been a pleasure to teach about himself.
But, ever since our first success, we had dreamed of finding the right couple. When I saw her as the centre of three figures, all almost simmering with sexuality, I dared to feel that tonight was going to be torrid.
Then the woman turned around, with the casual confidence of the supremely self-aware, and my breath was almost driven from my body.
Her blouse, which had risen to cover her neck in the back, opened wide around her shoulders in the front, dropping down over the outside edges of an incredible pair of breasts, the fabric curving inwards only barely high enough to cover her nipples. I knew then that, more than anything, I wanted to taste those breasts tonight.