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Hi reader, I will try to publish all three parts of this mini-series on consecutive days.
It was getting late, which meant my hotel would be full, and I would have the shittiest room view on the business class floor. Shangri-La hotel executive suites were all furnished the same inside, but while some looked out onto the excitement and bright lights of Hong Kong harbor, others stared into a bland concrete jungle backdrop.
If lucky, by the time I checked in, I’d see a sliver of mountain jungle between two high-rise apartment buildings clad in bamboo scaffolding. My view would be dominated by balconies full of clotheslines or plywood-shuttered, where owners grabbed every inch of living space they could.
While sliding luggage out of the overhead bins, I cursed my bad luck for our flight’s late departure from the UK. Our aircraft was all but empty, so at least I didn’t suffer the humiliation of navigating the business class aisle, squeezing my ass cheeks against one hard cock after another to get to the bulkhead door.
Getting through fast-track immigration and collecting my visa on entry was easy. The hotel transport mini-coach outside was empty, and traffic was light. These were all wonderful signs that my business trip was going well, except I knew my bubble would soon burst.
When I arrived at the hotel reception, my prediction proved accurate. The marble-floored foyer was empty because everyone was in their room, at the bar or dining at one of four themed restaurants.
After staring at his screen and fingering a long list, the receptionist shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Miss Harding, we gave away the last executive suite an hour ago.”
“I already paid.”
“I’m sorry, but the last allowable check-in for the booking service you used was 8 p.m., and it’s two hours after that.”
There was little, if any, point in quarreling with the man because he was the hardworking but sadly powerless, reluctant executor of a faceless fuckwit somewhere in the corporate halls of company headquarters.
“I should never buy through a fucking booking service. But their discounts over your regular room rate are too good to be true.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Harding, I can do nothing.”
“Can you refund me, please?”
“Only the booking service can do that, Miss Harding.”
“Okay. What room do you have for me?”
“Bottom floor, facing the mountains.”
“You mean facing a wall?”
“I’m sorr-“
“I know you are sorry. Please don’t keep apologizing because it makes me feel unreasonable, and you’ve been so polite.”
I face-planted onto the wooden counter, repeatedly tapping my forehead as though I might beat enough sense into myself to avoid making the same mistake next time. Had I booked directly with the hotel and paid, I could have checked in online a day prior.
Saving two hundred bucks a night for a three-night stay seemed a good idea a few days ago.
I groaned while ruing my shitty luck, desperately trying to reconcile the fact I would suffer the dangers and discomfort of a bath/shower combo instead of an executive suite monsoon rainfall head mounted in the ceiling of a gray slate wet room.
You also get more variety and quantity of coffee capsules for your Nespresso in an executive suite. These things are essential when you are twenty-five years old and spend two weeks every month traveling the world to sell products and services.
I felt tired, fed up, and honestly, I needed my rabbit vibrator fucking deep inside my pussy with its clitoris tickling head working anxiety-busting magic on a swollen sticky pink nub while I called my boyfriend and had him talk dirty to me.
“Fuck this.”
“Fuck what, madam?”
“Sorry. Forgive my potty mouth. The flight was late, and I got a shitty room. It’s just bad luck.”
“I know how you feel, Miss. Harding.”
“Do you really?”
I stared at the receptionist with doubt writ large on my face. He looked sweet and sincere, so I canned my frustration and smiled. The young man frowned and smiled awkwardly.
“I may have a solution for you, Miss Harding.”
“My name is Alice.”
“I’m Tom.”
His expression became strained, as though he might later regret what he was about to say. I followed his eyes around the foyer as he scanned, ensuring nobody could hear us. When satisfied, Tom leaned forward as though to whisper.
I felt a weighty, moral red line was about to be crossed between us, so I held up a hand.
“I can’t demean myself to give you or someone else a blowjob so I can enjoy a room I rightfully paid for, Tom. Please tell me your solution doesn’t involve me giving out sexual favors.”
“I can’t tell you that, Alice, sorry.”
“Oh, so you are hitting on me as a vulnerable girl in need of a room she paid for?”
“I’m not hitting on you. I would never take advantage of any vulnerable person.”
“Who is about to expect my favor then?”
“Your opportunity to upgrade to better accommodation is a bit awkward to explain, but basically, our top-floor Penthouse is a long-term leased residence owned by a wealthy couple in their early fifties.”
“That’s twice my age.”
I caught on real quick because getting propositioned for sex in hotels around the world was par for the course for a twenty-something pretty girl traveling frequently on business. The ephemeral nature of business-specific hotels and my anonymity in them made it easy for me to fuck beautiful boys, girls, and couples without ever giving my real name.
I was in an open relationship with Douglas, but that didn’t mean I fucked any guy or girl I met, and neither did he. Tonight, though, some loving company would be excellent, and an older, Penthouse-owning couple felt like the perfect way to improve my luck.
“They live in the Penthouse, you say, Tom?”
“The apartment has a butler, a bar, and much more.”
“What does this couple look like?”
He held up their portfolio photographs, so I guess this wasn’t the first time my helpful receptionist hooked the age-gap lovers up with a young girl needing a good room upgrade. They were a handsome couple. Both were tall and athletic. He had blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a kind face, while his wife had long, straight, jet-black hair with small breasts and a washboard stomach she showed off using a revealing blouse.
“Are you hooking me up with the hotel Mom and Dad?”
“Only if you want to, Alice. Silas and Hermioni Churchill love the company of a polite, beautiful lady.”
“I’m guessing, especially when she is a younger, fuckable lady, willing to put out?”
“Both the Churchill’s are in perfect shape. The hotel has a magnificent gymnasium and swimming pool, and they spend hours there daily.”
“Meaning they will fuck me hard?”
“It would be rude of me to say. But in all the time I have been arranging their fun, there have never been any complaints.”
“How long is that?”
“Three years, at least one lucky upgrading girl every month.”
He wouldn’t answer the question about whether I would be solidly fucked, but Tom nodded enthusiastically instead. I had a choice, either to suffer a shitty room and an evening trembling in masturbatory heaven while impaled on my six-inch vibrator, trying to focus on my boyfriend’s face, or I could fuck an older couple who seemed to understand how to take care of younger girls.
“Hook me up, please, Tom.”
“The concierge will take you up to the Penthouse, Alice. I hope you enjoy the evening.”
“What? No checking me out or sending a photograph to the Churchill’s room?”
“It’s not necessary, Alice. They are hooked into the hotel CCTV and have heard our conversation, seen you and I have a green light to proceed right here.”
He grinned broadly and pointed at his console’s tinted green flashing LED. The winking light was my route to a room upgrade and a night of sleazy love with a surrogate Mom and Dad, so why would I care? I supposed Tom would get a big tip, too, so it was all good.
The concierge escorted me to the Penthouse floor in what seemed like a private elevator with smart card access. It was sixty floors up, so the journey took us a while, during which time my panties warmed, and I marinated in lewd thoughts of my good fortune.
When I strolled off the elevator, a maid and a butler approached. The former took my jacket before helping the latter collect my luggage. A beautiful, well-heeled older woman, exactly as she appeared in her picture, walked almost into my arms, taking my hand in hers while inspecting me from head to toe.
“Hello Alice, I’m Hermione.”
“That is a beautiful name.”
“And you are a charming, sweet girl who needs a shower and a Daquiri before I fuck her.”
“Wow… we got there very quickly, Hermione.”
“Tom said we have you for three nights, assuming you’ll work through the days in some boring office nearby, presenting your pitch to clients. Silas is busy working out entertainment options and restaurants from which you can select our evening program.”
“Three nights with you? Here, in the Penthouse?”
“Would you like that, Alice?”
“Yes, please.”
“Can you keep your evenings free to date us?”
“Yes. I’m sure of it. Suppliers only pretend to enjoy entertaining traveling executives. They much prefer being home with their family or out with friends.”
“Well, that’s wonderful news, dear. Silas is trying to snag us a VIP box at Kooza.”
“Kooza?”
“Kooza is a return to Cirque du Soleil’s origins, combining two circus traditions—acrobatic performance and the art of clowning.”
“Oh god, I would love that.”
“We shall introduce you to friends as my niece. Is that okay?”
“Naughty, but yeah, I love it.”
“Right then. I’ll prepare a Daquiri while you shower and change into something more accessible.”
“Do I have a room?”
“If it’s okay with you, Alice, Silas, and I prefer our lovers to sleep with us. It means anytime anyone wakes up, we can fuck if we wish.”
I frowned, grinned, and squinted, giggling at how completely hedonistic Hermione was. She made no bones about fucking me, and in that comforting sluttiness was a warm feeling that a gorgeous woman my mother’s age was seriously into me.
“This is so very tawdry, Hermione.”
She led me into an immense living space. At one end, a luxurious bar and well-appointed kitchen were manned by a chef performing Teriyaki food gymnastics with two pallet knives. A man, I assumed from his back profile to be Silas, sipped wine from an oversized glass while talking excitedly on the phone.
A pretty Chinese lady played an ebony grand piano nearby, filling the room with light jazz music. Their massive sofa was three sides of square, brown calf leather framed with curved and sculpted stainless steel tubes.
A twenty-seater dining table looked like someone had fashioned an entire walnut tree and polished it for a thousand years before allowing the most privileged to eat off it. The black leather cushioned dining chairs were solid, obsidian, and I couldn’t correctly see their shape.
The room was lit with slowly changing electro-luminescence colors, glowing green, red, blue, and a beautiful purple.
Silas walked over to greet me, looking handsome and wearing an enormous, welcoming, excited grin that spoke to how much he wanted to fuck me. When he took my hand and kissed its back, my pussy lips engorged and squeezed tightly together, filling my panty gusset with another layer of tawdry cream.
Hermione moved in from behind, molding her body to mine, encircling my flat stomach, reaching down into my skirt, and almost fingering inside my panties. She planted soft kisses across my neck while Silas prepared to French kiss me.
His lips seared against mine, shimmering ecstatically through me, and I warmed all over. My knees buckled as I was temporarily welcomed into the family, Churchill style. I felt overwhelmed and so turned on I could have been laid on the floor right then and there and fucked for a week.
Silas’s tongue tingled against mine, and our kiss intensified. Our lips consumed each other in a Hollywood moment of Oscar-winning potential. As I basked in the warmth of my lover, it never occurred to me that I was enjoying another woman’s husband because he felt like mine.
I’d fucked couples before, but usually under tag-team conditions, fucking or being fucked by one, then the other, returning to my original lover for clean up or cock, depending on where it all began.
These two sandwiched me with love and sex, never being anything but gentle and sensual. I was exploding in ecstasy, to the extent my willpower almost entirely evaded me. When I pulled out of a soul-consuming kiss and gasped, it was time to make a break.
“I must shower, you guys. It was a very long flight.”
“Go… go, baby girl, a daiquiri awaits your return.”
“And a hard cock, please, Silas.”
“Yes dear… my wife’s sweet-tasting pussy too.”
Hermione led me to a full-blown spa adjacent to their bedroom. She handed me a bath sheet, pink robe, spongy, comfortable slippers, and a small leather bag filled with branded shower gels, shampoo, conditioners, and creams with vivid colors spread across a wide band like a cocktail bar.
I picked blue as a shower gel, not caring what its scent was, quickly lathering it into a natural sponge. I soaped myself and scrubbed off the grime of a sixteen-hour flight with my back facing the door, pausing to pleasure myself by sliding the sponge between my legs, cleaning my creamy slit while enjoying the masturbatory effect.
I heard a noise, turned, and saw Silas with Hermione watching me clean my pussy. They were naked, and my girl lover grinned mischievously, holding a Daquiri in one hand and her husband’s stiff cock in the other.
When Hermione peeled back Silas’ foreskin, I saw a heavy coating of precum glistening under the powerful wet room spotlights. His cock was around eight inches long and very thick, totally acceptable for reaming my pussy for as long as he wished, but a little big for my throat.
I was game to try it out and see how much I could squeeze in. My libido fired a final salvo into a chasm of my disgrace, and suddenly, all inhibitions were gone. I felt intoxicated by love, lust, and the fiery eyes that bored into me.
Hermione tilted my cocktail glass and dripped a tiny amount of daiquiri onto the end of Silas’ cock, nodding towards it. A tiny, mischievous wink I half saw was her unspoken invitation to sample my drink and her husband.
I turned off the shower, wrapped myself in a bath sheet, and stared into each lover’s eyes with the best smoldering, sleazy stare I could muster. They wanted me so much it felt incredible, so I got onto my knees and took control of Silas’ cock, gripping the thick, trembling shaft tightly around its base while Hermione descended to the floor beside me.
“May I watch how well you suck my husband’s cock, Alice?”
“Of course. I doubt I can get all of Silas in my mouth.”
“May I help?”
“Help how?”
“I can put your head on it and force you down to start with.”
“Okay… but if I tap out on your husband’s thighs, you must let go.”
“Of course, sweetie. I’ll let go once you kiss his pubis. I feel hungry anyway.”
“Hungry?”
Hermione slipped off my bath sheet and reached between my legs, perfectly parting my pubic bush, quickly finding two swollen, trembling labia without glancing down. It was like she was an experienced OBGYN. My lover smiled and slid two fingers into my slit just below a swelling clitoris, plowing up and down slowly while I gasped, moaned, and shuddered.
When she withdrew her fingers from my crack, they were coated with my sticky honey. Hermione had me under her spell as she inspected my creamy treat, sniffing her fingers and smiling affectionately before licking, then sucking them clean.
“That was yummy, Alice.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m so fucking hungry now.”
Silas’s cock throbbed in my fist, twitching from time to time, a sign he was highly excited. His salty load tasted delicious on the tip of my tongue as I eased it into his tiny slit. A twitch of his cock, heavy sigh, moan, and a teardrop of precum oozed out, searing across my taste buds like the morning sun lights a deep Alpine valley.
I sucked his smooth, swollen cock helmet, peeling off Silas’s creamy, musky precum with tightly clenched lips, while my tongue slipped underneath, checking how tightly his banjo string was strung.
Silas’s glans and the silken roll of circumcized skin pillowing its ridge filled my mouth, owning my senses. I felt Hermione lay down beside me and wriggle until her face was underneath my pussy, seeming to have given up any notion of helping my lips reach her husband’s pubis.
Her change of heart was to my benefit. Hermione wrapped her arms around my thighs and pulled my pussy down while I rocked slightly forward, making it easier for her to enjoy a mouthful of my swollen labia. Her hands reached all the way around, and clawing fingers spread my bush.
Soon, an experienced tongue lapped the sticky, creamy mess seeping from my tight fuck hole.
I slipped my flattened tongue around the underside of Silas’s cock, then eyed him while licking his bulging urethra in one slow stroke down to his balls. After I slid my tongue up and down the bloated tube half a dozen times, my lover moaned alarmingly as though he were close to a vinegar stroke. I eased him off a climactic edge and sucked each wrinkled stone, rinsing and squeezing gently, eliciting calmer, delightful moans while softly stroking his cock, not amounting to a wanking.
“I’ve taken a stamina pill, Alice. Fear not, sweet girl. You will be well fucked tonight.”
“Good. I need a lot of cock, pussy too.”
“Me too, honey.”
When Silas poured more daiquiri onto his stiff cock, I obliged his need for a clean-up, enjoying the saltiness of his precum mixed with the sugar and rum sweetness of my cocktail. I clenched my lips tightly around his girth and took the gnarly journey down his shaft, enjoying every bloated vein and imperfection on an exquisite cock.
I straightened my neck while sucking Silas’s cock halfway, taking deep breaths while readying myself for a long, hard, unassisted final push. Hermione was an incredible lover, plowing her tongue across the ridges of my anal whorl, along my super sensitive perineum, and far enough up my slit to make me shudder like someone pulled the train’s emergency brake without getting onto my clitoris.
I took a leap of faith and forced my lips further down Silas’ cock. Hermione instinctively knew when I was deep-throating her husband. I guessed it was something about the ecstatic moan he bellowed out. She sucked my clitoris, gripping its rubbery base between tightly clenched lips, pulling as though her face were bouncing on a trampoline.
I instantly orgasmed most spectacularly, squirting hard, soaking my lover until she puckered her lips, covered my pee hole, and sucked powerfully. On my second squirt, as I coated Hermioni’s tonsils with my nectar, her husband’s cock, crammed into my throat, stretching it so wide I panicked and gagged, then retched, snorting from my nostrils.
I kissed Silas’s pubis on my third deep-throat stroke, and when my squirting orgasm became more easily managed by a female lover devouring copious, squirted unicorn pee. I edged my knees wider apart, wanting to open my pussy to feed Hermione, and she moaned, clearly enjoying her role in my orgasm.
My body rolled through immense waves of pleasure, shimmering and trembling with rising and falling intensity as Hermione got me off, edging me perfectly. I slid my fingers between Silas’s ass cheeks, prising them wide open, using his muscles as my leverage to force my mouth down his shaft until I choked and his wiry pubes scraped my lips.
When he orgasmed down my throat, I choked, swallowed, coughing his salty cum into my mouth, almost retching, determined to take his load. My orgasm was on the wane, but the delightful cock, twitching deep in my throat, lit me up for other reasons.
I was satisfied as a woman, a slut, a lover, and in my life’s most sexually charged moment. I withdrew my lips along Silas’s cock, gathering his salty load in my mouth, swallowing, coughing more cream off my tonsils, using that to coat his glans while his wife cleaned up my pussy.
When Silas staggered backward, satisfied, grinning like someone in the front row of a comedy show, he handed me my daiquiri, and I slugged it back, swilling, to gather his semen into one mouthful before swallowing.
I stood up, weak-kneed, feeling empowered and enormously sexually gratified. Hermione was out of breath because I had ground her lips so hard with my pussy, at times, I had cut off her air supply.
“Shall we go to bed, Alice?”
“I am desperate to go down on you.”
“Me too, honey.”
Next Chapter:
Hi reader, I hope you enjoyed part one of this three-part special. More on Alice, Silas, and Hermione tomorrow.
Vinegar stroke? I had to Google that one. lol lol As I got deeper into this story I was surprised my screen didn’t burst into flames it was sooooo hot! Wow!!!
KATE you never stop amazing me. HOT HOT 🔥 HOT. On to part2.