Summary: A single’s fantasy inspired by the seduction style of a certain British spy.
I set down my drink, my eyes turn once again to look over at the gorgeous woman seated down the bar from me. She had attracted my attention from the moment I entered the hotel bar. From behind, her figure was accentuated by a black silk, mid-thigh dress with spaghetti straps. She sat on a stool with her ankles crossed and strappy black heels on her feet. Her hair was up, showing a thin gold chain necklace around her bare neck. From my current vantage point, with her angled slightly toward me on her seat, I can now see that gold chain drip down between her breasts, drawing attention to her cleavage. Matching gold earrings with small diamonds adorn her earlobes. The round gold bracelets on her right wrist slide down her forearm as she finishes her martini.
A reasonably large man thinks this is his cue. He stands up from his seat at a nearby table and saunters over to her. His back is to me, and I can’t make out what he says. However, the woman shakes her head from the way while clearly saying, “No,” I assume he asked if he could buy her another drink. As he talks to her, she swivels to square up to the bar and crosses her left leg over her right. She avoids eye contact with him and fiddles with her empty glass. Her body language signals her discomfort toward the guy hitting on her. Eventually, she gets fed up enough and raises her left hand. A diamond ring sparkles on her ring finger, and I see her lips clearly say, “I’m married.” She turns back to the bar.
Instead of taking the loss, the man keeps talking. Initiation of physical contact must have been next in this guy’s bag of tricks because he places a hand on her shoulder. That does it; I think as I dart toward them. She also went into motion. She pushes his hand off her shoulder and stands to walk away. He grabs her wrist to keep her from leaving. I arrived behind him, grabbed his left shoulder, and forcefully caused him to turn and face me. His face reddens with anger as he looks down at me.
“You want something?” he asks. The woman is trying to free her wrist from his right hand. I ignore the stares from everyone else in the room.
“Let her go,” I say. He balls his left hand into a fist and takes a step toward me, jerking the woman with him. With a back step, I quickly step to the right and back out of range while bringing my hands up in a loose boxing stance. He stands there looking at me in my well-fitted, black suit and black bow tie, trying to decide his chances against me. A look in my eyes tells him that I would at least make it harder for him than he wanted to deal with. Glancing around the room he seems to consider the overall hostility against him. With a cry and a curse, he yells at me, releases the woman’s wrist, and storms out.
The woman is leaning against the bar. I help her back onto her stool.
“Are you okay?” I ask. I sit on a stool next to her.
“No,” she answers me with a shaky voice. Her eyes dart nervously around.
“Hey, hey, look at me,” I say gently. She looks into my eyes, and I hold her gaze. “He’s gone,” I assure her. She nods and rubs her left wrist, still red from being grabbed.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask. She nods again. I motion the bartender over and order some ice first and then another martini. Wrapping some of the ice in a cloth napkin I hold the makeshift ice pack onto her wrist with my right hand while I have her hand in my left. Goosebumps form on the skin of her arm in response to the chill as the bartender sets the freshly prepared martini in front of her. She thanks him and lifts the glass to her succulent lips. She downs a gulp and sets the glass down before turning to look into my eyes.
“Why did you help me?” she queries. The slightest, cryptic smirk is on her lips as if she knows the answer.
“Because I’m a man. It’s what I should do.”
She leans toward me. “Is that the … only reason?”
Making no effort to hide it, I run my gaze down to her breasts then to her legs before sweeping back up her body to her eyes again.
“Oh, there are many reasons why a man would want to help you.”
“Mmm. You want to sleep with me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I say. “And you want me to.”
“Don’t you know?” She brought her left hand up from under the ice, fingers splayed, to show her wedding ring. “I have a husband.”
“I like it that way. It keeps things simple.” I lean forward and softly ask, “Do you know why?”
“Why?” she whispers, gazes flicking momentarily to my lips. I toss the napkin and ice onto the bar as I slowly stand. I gently grasp her left hand with mine. My right forefinger softly strokes her wrist. The eye contact is intense.
“Because we both know I’m the one who put that ring there. I am married to you because I love you. And one of the ways I show that love is by protecting you.”
My wife smiles and lets out a slight squeal. She stands and throws her arms around my neck. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her closer. She breathes, “I love you.”
The hug lasts for several seconds before we suddenly become aware of the quizzical expressions on the faces of the roomful of people looking at us. We sit back down on our respective stools. I display the hotel room key.
“I reserved the suite. Our suitcases are already up there. How about we continue this getaway up there,” I suggest.
“Yeah, I feel like everyone is looking at us,” she whispers.
“They were all looking at you before all this happened anyways. I know I was.”
She blushes at the compliment. I pay our tabs, and we leave the bar toward the elevators.
After I close the door and lock it, I walk up behind my wife and begin to massage her neck and shoulders. They are stiff from the stress of the events downstairs. After a few moments, she turns around, grabs my head, and kisses me. She sighs.
“Thank you,” she says. “I feel safe with you. And looking back, you defending me is kind of sexy.”
“You know, you never denied it.”
“Denied what?” she asked.
“Downstairs, you said that I wanted to sleep with you. I said, ‘Yes,’ and that you wanted me to. You didn’t deny it.”
“I’m not going to deny that!”
I place my left hand behind her head. “Okay. How about his. Do you want to sleep with me?”
“Maybe.” She smirks. “I mean, with all the excitement, maybe we should just-” I start kissing the left side of her neck. She gasps. The scent of her perfume fills my nostrils, and the taste of her skin delights my tongue. My right-hand brushes the strap off her left shoulder, and my lips move down to explore the flesh of that shoulder and collar bone. I pause and pull her body against mine with my right arm. I appreciate the look and feel of her breasts ballooning upward as they press against my torso. We lock eyes.
“Do you want me?” I ask slowly and softly.
“I want you,” she says. “Now, don’t stop.”
I slide the strap off her right shoulder. My fingers grasp the tiny tab on the back of her dress and unzip the garment. I grab the fabric and pull downward while I kneel. The dress falls to a heap around her feet. Her skimpy black thong, tight across her pussy, is at eye level. I smile and then continue to kiss her neck, cheeks, and lips. I look up between her black strapless bra cups at her beautiful face.
As I rise, I grasp her under her butt and lift. She lets out a yelp of surprise and holds my shoulders while wrapping her legs around my waist to steady herself. I carry her to the bedroom and place her on the edge of the bed. I slide her thong up off her legs then kneel again. My lips brush up her left thigh to her pussy. I kiss her outer lips then spread them and the inner lips with my fingers. I lick up her inner valley several times before sucking and licking her clit. My tongue and lips coax it to an even more swollen state. I reach up with my left hand and hold her right; our fingers interlace. My right middle finger slips into her vagina; with it slid in, I crook my finger and stroke her G-spot with my palm under my chin for leverage. Her left-hand grabs at my hair, and before long, her hips are quivering, and she lets out an orgasmic groan.
I grab her legs and roll her onto her stomach. She plants her feet on the floor and arches her back, presenting her pussy to me. I throw my dinner jacket off and unbuckle my belt with the slap of the leather and clank of the fastener. Unbuttoning my trousers my hand seemed to make one swift motion as the zipper descended as well, but I couldn’t be bothered to undress completely. I haul my stiff cock out of my boxer briefs and trousers. When she feels my tip nestling into place at her opening, she tries pushing herself back to take it in. I get it lined up on her third attempt and meet her with a thrust. I feel my shaft pierce into her hot, wet pussy. My hands-on the swell of her hips set the pace, which soon accelerates. My hips are slapping her butt, sending quick jiggles through the flesh. With one hand, I reach forward and unclasp her bra.
My wife reaches behind her with both arms, searching for my hands. I grab her arms and pull her to a standing position, my cock still pumping away from behind. I kiss and nip at the right side of her neck. My left-hand massages her breasts, and my right fingers are stroking her clit through the hood. I’m trying to give her another orgasm before I cum, but she’s too much for me. Waves of pleasure tear through me from my loins outward. My seed flows deep inside her.
“It’s. Okay.” she gasps haltingly. “Keep. Going.” She places her hands on top of my right hand, spurring renewed effort in stimulating her clit. I feel her pussy clenching around my still inserted dick a few seconds later. She lets out a breath and falls forward onto the bed. My cock slides out of her, and a trickle of my semen follows immediately after. I fall onto the bed next to her. We cuddle and kiss for a few minutes. She eventually gets up and walks toward the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” I ask, propping myself up on my elbows.
She looks over her shoulder. “To pee,” she answers. She pulls some pins from her hair, and her shiny locks tumble down. “But when I come back, we’re getting you the rest of the way out of that suit. I want to make you cum again. I got my double O, sir; you’re going to get yours.”
Wow, I think. I may have to promote her to triple O… or higher.
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