How I met and had a fling with a neglected married woman

As I punched the elevator button for the appropriate floor of Kay’s hotel room, I clutched the bottle of red wine I had brought with me to help ease any nerves she and I might have and noticed this was a pretty damn nice hotel for a small business owner. I would eventually find out that Kay and her husband had plenty of money. Their small business was something he wanted to start after giving up a successful, but unfulfilling, career in finance.

*ding*

The sound of the elevator reaching its destination brought me back to reality as I quickly realized that only a hallway and door separated me from a night of (hopefully) sexual debauchery. I gave a gentle knock on the door and listened to the sounds of footsteps shuffling from inside, a short pause, and then the door unlocking and opening. Her head peeked out from behind the door, giving off a sense of nervous shyness. I combatted it with a big, smiling greeting and extending the bottle as a token gift. She invited me in and her nervousness was palpable. She made a few brief remarks about how thoughtful it was for me to bring her something and that she had forgotten how tall I was. I tried to put her at ease by teasing her about how short she was. In our previous texts, I had always poked fun at her for being short, and my comment was met with a glare of mock anger which I returned with a big shit eating grin.

I finally had the chance to get a good look at her. She had sent me sexy photos on a fairly regular basis but this was my first chance to see her entire body. She was wearing a rather modest, yet adorable, set of cotton pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. It was almost bedtime after all. The fabric clung tightly to her petite frame. Her perky B-cup breasts filled our her shirt nicely and her flat stomach provided ample evidence of all the bike riding she was always talking about. She had trimmed her sandy blond hair since the last photo of her I had seen and she complimented me for noticing.

I pulled a wine key from my pocket (Always have the tools you need for the job. Chef’s orders.) and offered to crack open the bottle of French beaujolais. I served it in the finest of plastic hotel drinkware this establishment had to offer and after downing the first and her refill in short order, Kay was noticeably more relaxed. She even began to reach out and touch my arm as we chatted which, up until this point, was the most physical contact we had ever had other than that one time I accidentally shoved her into the side of a parked car. We both started to get more handsy as we became more comfortable in each other’s presence and when Kay excused herself to use the restroom, I decided it was time to make my move.

When I heard the faucet turn on, I walked to the edge of the bathroom and leaned against the door frame waiting for it to open. When Kay finally opened the door, she was slightly startled by my presence, but I didn’t give her time to dwell on it. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into me. Now it was on. Having broken down the final barrier, Kay immediately initiated our first kiss. My hands instinctively began exploring her body. She kissed with me the passion and ferocity of a woman who had some serious pent up sexual frustration and I was a willing recipient of that frustration.

Please wait…

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