The touch of his mouth was like a gentle mist on her overheated sex and she let out her pent-up breath in a long sigh. The stubble on his chin scraped her finger as he removed it from his path. Then his tongue was inside her, burrowing like a liquid cock, darting back and forth, rooting for her secret juices. The joyous surprise of his lips and tongue had stopped her in mid-orgasm, pausing her breathtakingly on the edge, and now she was climbing higher and higher, the spiral of pleasure building like a spring coiling tight.
Her fingers were in his hair, wrapping and coiling like snakes around the loose strands, clutching him, jamming his face into her flowing pussy. His response was to slip his hands under her ass, lifting her legs up and over his shoulders. He squeezed her cheeks, and managed to raise his mouth up far enough to fasten onto her clit.
His tongue swirled like a pinwheel around her hard, pea-shell mound, showering sparks in all directions, but he was deliberately avoiding her clit, keeping her suspended in desire, poised on the brink of the relief she so desperately needed. After a few moments, Melanie couldn’t stand it any longer and she opened her eyes.
She saw him staring at her, his eyes dark and remote, his gaze intent, studying her, gauging her responses. A breath of sanity rushed through her then, warning her how crazy this was, cringing at how vulnerable she’d allowed herself to become in front of this total stranger. But that thought only served to ramp up her excitement another notch, galvanizing her further, and in a voice she didn’t recognize, she found herself hissing, “Now, Goddamn it! NOW!”
His expression changed and his low, throaty chuckle sent shivers through her loins. His tongue crested slowly, gently over the top of her mound. He rested his tongue there, not moving. Melanie felt it building, like a swirling tornado in the pit of her soul, unstoppable; irresistible force meeting the immovable object of his mouth. His tongue flicked once. Twice. And she came. Bucking against his face like a wild stallion. Sobbing. Gushing, the juices flowing like molten lava over his lips and tongue.
She had never experienced an orgasm like it and had no idea how long it lasted. For all she knew it could have been hours. Gradually, though, the convulsions began to slack off, and she become aware that something had changed. She opened her eyes again, unaware that she’d closed them, and she saw Mark standing over her. Melanie noted with not a little satisfaction that his pants were now fully tented and showed a dark stain on them. His face was slick with her juices; beads of her come still dripped from his chin. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the door.
She followed his gaze and with a shock realized that someone was standing by the door of her room — inside her locked room. It took her a few moments to recognize the contorted, visibly angry face of Trevor Hailey, the Hotel Manager. And when he spoke, he sounded nothing like the man she’d talked with earlier.