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On this particular day, my husband was due to fly to another city for his work and so that I could be with him as long as possible before he left for a 2 night stopover I decided I’d drive him to the airport and then collect him on his return. We parked in the short stay car park and despite him suggesting I should get off for home I wanted to stay as long as possible. After he checked in, we found a spare table in the obviously popular coffee bar until the latest possible time came for him to go to security, and after a loving kiss and a long hug he went. I returned to the coffee bar and decided to watch the departure screen for a while, with another coffee. I would only be sat around on my own for two days at home so I wasn’t in a rush to leave. The weather hadn’t been good and I thought the least I could do was wait until I saw the boarding sign before leaving.
As I sat gazing out the window and glancing at the departure board, a man approached me and asked if he could take the seat opposite me. I hesitated but agreed he could, and as I looked around the bar I noticed it was now fairly full although there were a few places he could have chosen instead.
He took off his overcoat and asked me if he could leave his coat and small case by the table while he got himself a coffee. Again, I found no reason why not. I guessed he was in his early to mid forties, a couple of inches taller than my husband and a slightly fuller build. I noticed his hair and eye colouring was also similar to my husband although his grey hairs were far more proportionate than the number appearing on my husband. My husband of almost three years had recently reached the big 30, was an adequate 5’8 and in pretty good shape, and I was 27, 5’3, also with brown hair and brown eyes and a fairly good figure. I met my husband 3 and a half years before we married, he being my first serious boyfriend although I knew he’d had relationships before he met me. I would say my best features are my face, hair and legs although my husband often teases me that any man’s opinion of my best features would centre on my 38d breasts.
The man smiled warmly as he returned with his coffee, stating how he hated airline coffee. We began to chat, him explaining how he’d come to be here and me doing the same. We talked about the weather, our home locations (America and England), some flying and airport experiences and generally just passing the time of day. Eventually he introduced himself as Michael Richards as he gently shook my hand as I told him my first name. We then exchanged the customary “pleased to meet you Laura / Michael,” as I smiled at the similarity of my husbands first name to his last. He mentioned he didn’t want to arrive at his hotel before 4pm or he would be obliged to join a conference call that he wanted to avoid, and asked me if I knew how far away his hotel was. There were 2 ways I could drive home and one was near where his hotel was so it helped me to guess his journey time of around 20-25 minutes.
I made my excuses to leave as soon as I saw Richards’s plane had departed and he also said he’d go and search out a taxi.
The rain was coming down heavily as we reached the exit, and we both paused for a while before he broke the silence with “well if there was a taxi I could give you a ride to your car, is it far away.”
“Over there,” I pointed towards the short stay car park
“Hmm, Ok, I have the English brolly, so let me walk you there,” he said. He quelled my remarks about the inconvenience of having to drag his case back and forth and we set off, shoulder to shoulder, across the way to the car park.
We approached my old scruffy little car and I thanked him for being kind. Chivalrous was the word I was thinking of.
“It’s been my pleasure talking with you Laura,” he smiled as he shielded the rain from me as I opened the car door.
I had become to feel comfortable and safe with him, and despite never having done anything remotely like this before, and knowing the dangers of doing so, I blurted out “I could give you a lift to your hotel.”
“Aaww gee, that would be swell, are you sure its not out of your way?” he asked as I smiled at the words like gee and swell that I was only familiar with hearing on TV.
“No, it’s ok, I can go that way,” I hesitated, not knowing exactly how far I was deviating from my route but knowing I didn’t have the heart to change my mind now.
With his case in the boot, or trunk as he called it, we set off, me nervously getting the wipers to work and demisting the screen.
Talk of the roads and traffic filled the time to the hotel and I pulled into the vast parking area and followed the reception sign.
“That’s so sweet of you Laura, thank you so much, can I pay you or at least reimburse your gas” Michael commented as we approached the hotel entrance.
“No it’s ok, really, its on my way home,” I lied.
“OK, well its really sweet of you, looking after a Yank in this damn English weather, hey pendik escort how about I buy you dinner tonight?”
I knew I couldn’t accept, what would the implications be, a woman meeting a guy and visiting his hotel? Or maybe it was just a meal, with no strings attached, after all.
“We’re both alone tonight, this hotel is miles from anywhere, they have a good class restaurant, my treat, unless you have other plans?” he went on.
It was true I would be alone tonight, again, as my husband worked hard at his job. If only he could earn the same without working away from home as much.
“I, I don’t know,” I hesitated, trying to think things through. He seemed a nice genuine guy, but what would my husband think if he knew?
“Say, I apologise for not letting up. I don’t mean to put you under pressure. I’m eating alone tonight, you’re eating alone tonight, I just thought if I could thank you for the lift with dinner then I’d sure appreciate that,” Michael explained.
I considered it further. Do I want to pick at something in front of the TV tonight, alone, or do I want to change from my jeans and pullover into something nice and have a nice meal even though it means joining someone who I have only just met, even though he seems very nice. And would I be able to keep it from my husband? Who would know? If it was nearer to home or in the city centre then maybe I’d be recognised, but here?
“Well I suppose I could come across just for dinner, but I’d need to set off for home before it got too late” I slowly reflected my thoughts.
“Laura that would be awesome, shall we say seven? I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“OK,” I smiled, almost sheepishly, before saying goodbye and driving home.
By the time I got home I knew I only had little more than an hour before I needed to set off again.
I decided to have a bath to reflect on the day. Richard rang to confirm his arrival and tell me he was going out for dinner with a few guys. I wondered if there would be any females present, of if he was only going with one female even, or with guys on a boozy leery night out. This hardened my resolve to also go out and enjoy the evening. And possibly led to some clothes being included in my selection options that otherwise wouldn’t have made it.
In the end I decided to wear a black dress with a little pink bow at the front, the next choice was whether to wear a bra or not, the options being a bra with clear shoulder straps as the dress straps were thin bootlace style, a strapless bra or no bra at all. I quickly tried it on without a bra and then with a strapless bra, but then selected a bra with thin shoulder straps which I felt was better. I then selected a pair of stay-up stockings, and a pair of panties that matched my bra. I wondered if my black heels gave the impression of a dull lady, all in black, although convinced myself that my appearance had a touch of elegance and style.
Before putting my dress and shoes on I applied a little makeup and my red lipstick, admiring my looks in the mirror, telling myself there was no need to admire my underwear as no one was going to see it, yet it made me feel good anyway.
Complete with my small black and silver clutch bag and short black jacket I set off on my lonely journey to the hotel, beginning to worry that I was going to be late as I hadn’t left enough time.
I parked as near to the entrance as I could, the car park looking a little crowded, and left my jacket in the car.
I hurried in, seeing Michael pacing near the entrance as I got inside, greeting me with a warm smile and casting me an approving glance up and down.
“Hi Laura, you look amazing,” he said as he then went on to hold my shoulders and kiss me on the cheek. I know I blushed as I said thank you, and thought he looked nice too, dark trousers, a lighter jacket and an open necked white shirt.
“We’re through here, apparently there is a Christmas party here tonight and guests are welcome to join in if they want to but will be served separately,” he began to explain.
As I saw the layout it looked very impressive, a section of the restaurant laid for guests, an open plan larger area laid out beyond that for the party goers with a bar to the left and a dance floor to the right.
We had a romantic setting of a table for two and began with a cocktail drink as we studied the menus. Looking at the prices I was glad I wasn’t paying. I wondered if my husband was dining somewhere as plush as this.
Our three course meal was brilliant, and our conversation was friendly and interesting. I knew Michael was paying me attention as it would have been easy for him to look at the partygoers in the adjoining room instead, obviously enjoying themselves as they seemed to get louder as the drinks flowed and the night went on. We finished with a coffee as Michael signed the bill, and then he asked if I would like another cocktail while we listened to the music.
I silivri escort reminded him I was driving and that perhaps another drink was not a good idea. He suggested I may be over the limit from the first cocktail and proposed to pay for me a taxi if I wanted to leave my car here overnight. I started to weigh up the ideas, a taxi would mean I’d have to pay for a taxi tomorrow to get my car back, and the distance from home to here wouldn’t be cheap. He then said I could stay in his room as there were twin beds, and we both laughed, and I didn’t know if he was joking or meant it.
“Of course you can leave me drinking on my own if you want to run along home, how about a small drink if you’d prefer not to have a cocktail and take a taxi? I’ll ask the driver how much and give you enough for a return trip.”
He seemed to be trying different options to see what suited me most. I didn’t want to take up the option of a bed, how could a couple sleep in a bedroom without one of them expecting something to happen? As this smaller drink option appeared reasonable, I accepted, still with the thought I could possibly drive home.
We went through to the bar, the place was bouncing with life and enjoyment and I didn’t really want to leave so soon.
We stood by the bar watching the dancing, the people having fun, commenting on certain ones that caught our attention, and while this was going on I also noticed Michael cast a few glances towards my cleavage, and whenever his eyes locked onto mine in conversation it seemed he was blocking out all things around us.
I’ve had guys look at me and say things to me, that I’ve brushed off dismissively, but with Michael it was beginning to feel right that he was looking at me and admiring me and talking to me, and right that I appreciated him looking at me and enjoyed being with him.
As we neared the end of our drinks he asked if I would like to dance. I smiled and, failing to think of a reason to say no, I said yes.
We put our glasses down and smiled as he took my hand and led me to the dance floor. It was strange feeling another man’s hand holding mine, but wasn’t a feeling that I was uncomfortable with. The room was fairly dark and I knew even if someone was there that I knew, it would be unlikely I will have been seen and unlikely that I wouldn’t be able to successfully deny I was there.
We found a place on the almost full dance floor, and adjusting the hold on my left hand Michael also placed his other hand on my waist. I placed my right hand on his upper arm, and felt his left hand move to my back, my left hand in his right hand being held up almost at shoulder level as we danced. We smiled at each other in silence as I followed his moves, completely comfortable that this man that I had only known for a number of hours was holding me and dancing with me.
We each criticised our own dancing skills and complimented the other, commented on the tracks we danced to, and continued to smile. He made no attempt to release me and I made no attempt to free myself from him.
After the third track the tempo slowed down a little. Oh no, what now, I thought to myself as he placed both hands on my waist and held me directly in front of himself.
“Laura honey, you look amazing tonight, you’re so beautiful,” he softly spoke.
“Ohh, thank you,” I nervously replied, trying to hide my appreciation at having been paid such a compliment.
“Do you always look this beautiful and sexy when you go out,” he added as we slowly swayed around.
I didn’t know what to say, if I said yes then that might suggest I had purposely made myself appear beautiful and sexy for him. But if I said no then that might suggest I had made a special effort for his benefit on this occasion. Either answer would possibly suggest that I wanted to appear beautiful to him. And the fact that he’d used the word ‘sexy’ could imply that I might have dressed this way to suggest that I was sexy. Does that in turn imply that I wanted him to think of me as a sexy girl, and if that was so, does that imply that I want him to look at me with thoughts of sex?
I couldn’t hold the smile on my face any longer as he clearly waited for an answer, so I weakly replied “I don’t know.”
“Well honey, I gotta tell ya, you look awesome, I never thought a pretty girl in jeans and pullover would turn out to look so hot,” he explained.
My head was spinning, struggling to handle the compliments he was giving me. Especially his views that I looked “sexy” and “hot”.
“Like an ugly ducking turning into a swan?” I laughed as I tried to think of something funny to say to ease the obvious sexual tension that was building up with his words.
“Laura honey, you could never ever be compared to an ugly duckling, not now, before or ever in the future. You’re an amazingly beautiful and sexy looking young woman, dang, you even smell awesome too.”
He then kissed me on the cheek and şirinevler escort smiled at me. And then after moving a hand to my chin and gently lifting my face to look up at him, he kissed me on the lips. His hand moved back to my waist as he pulled me into him, my breasts crushing against his chest as the soft yet firm kiss continued for what must have another 30 seconds.
I still cant explain the feelings I was feeling, it was like I felt vulnerable but totally willing, scared but excited, naughty but in control.
The kiss stopped with the music and Michael asked if I’d like another drink. I suggested that I’d probably had enough already.
“Suppose I make you a coffee?” Michael replied.I knew I must not have another alcoholic drink if I was going to drive home, so a coffee seemed a good option.”OK,” I almost whispered. It was as though my brain had just clicked into gear and caught up with my mouth. He said “make” me a coffee. That meant he would make it, not order it, it meant he would make it in his room, and I’d instantly said yes. We were already leaving the dance floor as I realised what I’d agreed to. It seemed like we had walked down two corridors and were entering his room in no time at all. ‘Oh my god, what am I doing’ I thought to myself.The room looked large and classy, and there were twin beds like he said. “Take a seat,” Michael beckoned towards the coffee table and two chairs, my doubts that anything else might happen were washed away by my resumed trust in him as he put the kettle on.
I felt comfortable enough to slip off my shoes and place my clutch bag alongside them as he took off his jacket and placed it on a hanger.
“Good idea, its always so homely to take your shoes off,” as he sat on a bed and took his off.
He asked how I like my coffee to which I replied milk but no sugar, and then joined me with 2 cups of coffee on the table. The full cups and reference to being homely putting me totally at ease again.
As we sipped at our coffee we spoke of the meal, the party, the hotel in general, then he asked if he’d embarrassed me with any words or actions. I said no.
“Really,” he probed.
“Well, not embarrassed as such, surprised me a little, maybe,” I replied.
“Well, in the short time that I’ve known you Laura, I’ve come to realise you’re a fantastic young lady in many ways, a realisation that some people don’t get of one another in years of friendship. Do you feel anything similar?”
I didn’t know what to say again. I did have feelings that I hadn’t experienced before, but then I’d never had dinner with a mature sophisticated American guy before. I sensed I was taking too long to find a reply so did something I long since prevented my self from doing and answered before considering all angles. “Yes, I think so.”
Michael looked at me, probably wondering why I had taken so long to answer, and then he got to his feet.
He moved towards me and put out his hands. As before, I reacted without considering the options and found myself raising my hands towards him.
He pulled me to my feet, and without my shoes on he appeared much taller than before.
His left hand rested on my waist and I wondered what he was going to do or say, as my arms hung aimlessly by my side. His right hand moved to the side of my neck, then to the back of my neck as he planted his lips firmly against mine. I still didn’t know what to do with my hands as he held me firmly by the neck as we kissed. His left hand then gripped my right breast, squeezing me and rubbing over my nipple. As I gasped and moaned simultaneously his tongue darted into my open mouth. My hands grabbed at his body to steady myself as I found my tongue was also moving in and out of his mouth too. His right hand left my neck and moved down my back, and I gasped again as I felt him pulling the zip down the back of my dress.
I wanted to shout ‘wait, stop, we agreed it would only be dinner’, but with the kissing, nibbling and sucking of my lips I was unable to speak.
His left hand then pulled my strap down, almost immediately followed by his other hand pulling the other strap until I had no option but to allow my dress to come downwards and expose my bra. Michael caressed my back as my dress dropped to the floor and then seemingly expertly unfastened my bra with ease. He kissed my neck, shoulder and then down to my breasts as he threw my bra onto one of the beds. Every time I reached the point of saying something like, “no, stop, I cant do this, this isn’t what we agreed,” something happened to take my breath away and push my objections away from my lips. I felt breathless as I moaned under Michael’s touch, unable to keep my eyes open, my neck unable to keep my head from tilting forwards or backwards, my knees feeling like they were going to give way as Michael firstly fondled and then kissed my breasts, then sucked on each nipple as he held my bottom, as he stroked the back of my legs moving upwards from my stockings and over my bare thighs and onto my panties, gripping me and squeezing me.
“Oh my god, I didn’t want this to happen, I didn’t expect this to happen,” I kept subconsciously telling myself, as though to stop thinking these words would allow them to be replaced with words like ‘this feels unbelievably good’.
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