The Corinthian is one of London’s newest hotels, it boasts itself as 5-star and indeed it is very nice, however, it’s the hotel equivalent of a ‘Euro car,’ smooth, conformist modern lines, built for practicality rather than quirky originality. It’s insipid, indistinguishable and lacks identity, no different from a hundred other high-end boutique hotels.
And those interiors they're always the same, muted grey or brown, with lots of chrome and glass, not at all cozy, or the kind of place you'd like to squirrel yourself away in for a long weekend; the toiletries are nice though and I love the ridiculously large fluffy towels they call bath sheets.
M must be in his late thirties, a tall handsome man, he ‘works-out,’ I know this because he told me so several times, just in case I’d forgotten the first three, or was it four times? ‘What do you think of my body, you like it,’ he asked, ‘Well, it looks like you workout,’ I said flatteringly, it was the polite thing to say.
‘So, why don't you go lay down on your tummy, and I'll give you a nice back massage after that long flight.' I slipped out of my dress and down to stocking and suspenders (as requested), before popping into the bathroom for a towel, tissues and body lotion.
Flipping him over I straddled his thighs, grasping both erect cocks in one hand whilst squeezing body lotion over them with the other, like as when they pour you an ice-cream. 'Aha, two cocks divided by a common language,' well that went straight over his head.
‘And can you fuck me in the mouth too,’ ‘Sure,’ I replied. It appeared we had about the same size cock, but he being American his was circumcised; it didn't escape my attention that no mention was made about his cock, mine being a tad bigger.
‘Might I suggest a 69,’ ‘Sure thing Frances, whatever suits you.’ I enjoyed that, as my mouth bobbed up and down the length of his shaft, having my cock in his mouth kept him somewhat quiet.
‘Do you wanna see how far I can shoot my come,’ he asked, in for a penny I thought, ‘Yes OK.’
M stood on the thick deep-pile carpet at the foot of the bed, where he could get the best view of himself in the mirror and proceeded to wank himself off. I thought I'd spice the proceedings up a bit, so stood behind him wrapping my hand firmly around his cock, and wanked him off hard.
‘When I come I want you to keep jerking me off, I want to see it shoot over the carpet,’ oh well, it wasn't my bedroom carpet.
And yes, it was an impressive spurt, four long one’s all over the deeply piled 5-star grey carpet, the first spurt reaching furthest. M collapsed onto the bed whilst I went off to fetch a towel to clean up any sticky evidence, I'm practical like that; don't want the chambermaid getting stuck to the spot.
‘So hey, can I see you again tomorrow evening, and can you wear black suspenders and stocking this time,’ ‘Sure M, I can do that, I’ll talk to you then, oh and do you mind if I take an apple, I haven’t ate since breakfast.’
What I'm reading in bed...
Bevis: Richard Jefferies