Naughty stranger sex erotica...
"With Bells On," a sex story by Nirada Holloway
She walked faster. This was one of those rare moments in which Laurel almost hated being a woman. An early August twilight in San Francisco came sooner than she'd expected. A salt breeze sent chills up her neck, in spite of its warmth. Goddamn hills. Laurel slipped off her shoes and walked up the steep sidewalk in black nylons. Fuck it, they had a run from her thigh to the back of her knee, anyway.
Laurel smelled of spilt White Shoulders and warm Ghirardelli fudge, both wafting from her lime-green vinyl purse. Refusing to dwell on what it was that frightened her about walking in an unfamiliar city in the darkening hours, she half-jogged back to her room at the top of a hotel whose name she still couldn't remember in Union Square West.
She bolted the door behind her and sighed, plopping her purse, tags still attached, down on the fake marble table-lamp. Laurel tuned the Magnavox to cable-radio's take on 1980s pop and danced out of her old, ratty blue jeans skirt.
She picked up the room service menu and fell backward onto the bed. She eyed the price next to Classic Sundae with cherry as she dialed room service. She tossed the menu and, cradling the phone in the crook of her neck, rubbed the tight muscles around her thighs.
"Room service, how can we help you?" the voice on the line almost whispered. Laurel's lips tingled instantly, waking up after being asleep for far too long.
"Hi. I'd like your Classic Sundae please." Laurel slightly choked. "With a cherry."
There was a pause and Laurel was almost certain she heard a quick intake of breath. "Anything else?"
"Give me a few minutes before you send it up, I've got to jump in the shower first."
Laurel hung up the phone, her jaw open and her lips wet. Who was that? she thought. I hope he brings my Classic Sundae.
Laurel ripped off her panties and pulled her blouse up over her head. She turned on the hot water and practiced her smile in the mirror, dancing again while unhooking her bra.
She stepped in and let the water rush over her, watching her reflection in the wide, hotel mirror. She stretched and let the water run through her teeth. Her middle and ring finger circled her clit and she breathed in deep. Her shoulders sank and her knees bent as her fingers pushed between her outer lips.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Dammit!"
Laurel grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her chest. The soft terry-cloth felt rough on her sensitive nipples. Her skin was pink from the hot water. She swung open the door ready to yell that she'd asked for time to shower. Laurel stopped short.
There he stood - a lanky bellboy, probably in his early twenties, with bright blue eyes and a shock of black hair just long enough to stick up in front.
"Sundae?" he proffered with a pair of finely manicured hands.
Laurel almost dropped her towel right then. Her mind raced for a way to keep him a moment longer without brandishing a neon sign flashing: fun, lonely and hard up. On second thought ...
"Uh yeah, set it right over there," she said, pointing to the fake marble. She left off the please, thinking she might like telling this fellow what to do and not wanting to set any precedent to the contrary.
He brushed past her, his wool hotel jacket touching her shoulder. Chills shot down Laurel's back and a soft tingle grew on her wet lips.
"My coin purse is by the sink, do you mind?" she gestured with her chin toward the bathroom.
Awkwardly, the bellboy cleared his throat. He started to shake his head as if to say, "That's really not necessary, the pleasure was entirely mine," but seemed to change his mind and shut his jaw. He walked into the bathroom, slipped on the puddle below the towel rack, clumsily slammed the back of his perfect head against the pseudo 1920s twisted-glass bathroom doorknob and lay chastened on her tile floor, his wool jacket sopping wet. Laurel grinned ear-to-ear at her astonishing luck.
"Oh, shit!" She recovered, "I'm so sorry, let me help you."
She knelt next to him, pulled him up by the arm and rubbed her hand on the back of his head. She couldn't help noticing that he couldn't help noticing her towel was supported now only by her taut breasts. He looked away shyly, almost hitting his head again, this time against the bathroom counter.
Laurel stood and allowed the bellboy to pull himself up. "I'll put your jacket on a hanger," she offered graciously. "Are you alright?" Wicked thoughts about the mirrored closet door began to form in her mind. It was positioned perfectly opposite the hotel bed.
"Come. Sit down."
The bellboy looked as though he might prefer to crawl underneath the bed and disappear into oblivion. Laurel enjoyed a little humility.
"I'm Laurel," she said.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Marc."
Marc gingerly lowered his firm butt onto the stiff, orange and yellow bedspread. "Did you know they never wash these?" Marc said, raising one eyebrow.
"What?"
"Never mind."
Marc was staring at his standard issue patent leather loafers as Laurel helped him pull off his wet jacket. His shoulders were broader than she'd expected. His neck was smooth and soft and she could see the well-toned flesh of his tight chest behind the starched, button-down white shirt.
Laurel breathed in his pleasant and unfamiliar scent. She opened her eyes and found Marc staring at her - her face this time.
Now it was Laurel's turn to let her eyes fall away shyly. Was that a bulge? Oh my God. It stirred! Laurel was surprised to discover she no longer felt shy at all, staring at his crotch. She moistened her dry lips with her tongue and dragged her fingernails in a half fist up his thigh. She brought her look back up to his and saw his pupils burst into large black circles in those bright blue eyes.
Marc sighed heavily - nervously ran his fingers through his coarse black hair. With the tiniest tremble, he then reached up and ran those same, soft fingers through Laurel's sandy brown hair, back behind her head, down the back of her neck and past the curve of her shoulder. Here the hair stopped. Marc paused. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek cautiously. She gasped and kissed him back, a quick peck on the lips. He had soft, thick lips.
Her nipples felt so hard they were throbbing. Laurel breathed him in again, nuzzling his neck as he let his fingertips slip down her spine. She tore off the button to his slacks and stumbled with his zipper. His mouth felt hot against her ear and Laurel felt the tiniest wet flicker of his tongue along the inside of her lobe. Her entire scalp tingled and her thighs ached.
Marc didn't stop when the towel resisted half way down Laurel's back. He coaxed apart the folds from her front and pushed the terrycloth down to fall around her ankles. He pulled her hands toward his chest, pulling her down next to him on the bed.
Laurel stopped. She stretched naked, balanced on her knees toward the head of the queen bed and pulled back the bedspread. She smiled sheepishly.
"They never wash these things, you know."
Marc grinned, stretched up next to her and pulled back the sheets. It wasn't until he lifted her up slightly and lay her head upon the pillow that she could see how muscular he truly was, flexing through the shirt now barely hanging onto his shoulders. He looked straight down at her. Smiled wide. And popped out of view.
Laurel, nervous, tensed. She felt the grizzle of his cheeks brush between the insides of her thighs. Her head sank back into the pillow. He didn't tease her. Not at first.
After several, hot, wet kisses on her inner thighs he tasted her, and she could feel him smile against her skin. Laurel's eyes rolled back and to the side, landing on the sundae that was melting, dripping on the marble.
Marc's tongue pushed deeper and Laurel resisted the urge to pull on his hair and force him further between her lips. She could feel all her muscles tensing, throbbing. She closed her eyes. Marc paused.
Laurel felt a quick peck on her thigh before he pulled away. Then he pressed something very cold and very hard to the outside of her thigh. She gasped. His head popped back into view. He held a long spoon dripping with vanilla ice cream and fudge. Laurel closed her eyes and pressed her lips around the curved metal. She swallowed the sweet ice cream. The fudge was still hot.
Marc leaned close and kissed her softly on her mouth. Then her neck. Then over her heart. He wrapped his warm lips around her nipples, tracing circles of cold vanilla ice cream and hot fudge with his tongue, biting gently then closing his lips again before kissing his way down past her belly and once more between her legs...this time, he teased her.
Marc traced the curve of Laurel's thigh down to the back of her knee with tiny, wet kisses. He allowed his breath to fall hot on her lips before kissing and nibbling his way down her other thigh. Slowly working his lips and tongue back up to her crotch, Marc's fingernails traced spirals around Laurel's breasts and down either side of her back. Laurel gave in. She twisted her fingers softly around his coarse locks and tugged until he had no choice but to breathe solely through his nose, while he flicked his tongue against her clit.
Laurel rocked against his face, every muscle in her body tensing. Her teeth clenched and her eyes shut tight. Laurel gasped louder and louder. She wrapped her thighs around Marc's head and arched her back. Her hands still pulling on his hair, now in time with her hips, Laurel hoped he could breathe enough to avoid passing out before she came.
She was moaning loudly now and noticed, with surprise, Marc grunting and rocking past the foot of the bed. This brought Laurel past the crest. Marcs tongue flicked hard now, rhythmically against her clit. He grabbed her hips tight. Every inch of her body between her knees and her ribs throbbed, begging to burst. Laurel curled her toes and screamed. Her body spasmed so hard she was shaking. Ice cream and sweat dripping off her body, Laurel sat up just enough to kiss Marc deeply. She could taste herself. She fell back onto the pillow.
Marc gave her one last peck on the lips. He didn't say a word. Just washed his face. Dressed in his hotel uniform, and quietly walked out the door.
Originally Published November 2006: Simply Sexy