It was so unexpected that I really didn’t know how to react, at first — before instinct overtook my inhibitions, as it tends to do eventually. I’m not the sort of person this happens to: shy, awkward, and hard to get beneath the skin of. This is the tale of when someone not only got under my skin, but effortlessly stripped it all off and scribbled all over whatever was underneath. It is, of course, completely fictitious, but one mustn’t let that get in the way of a good story.

We ended up sharing a lift, as you do, at the city Travelodge: the type of place you book when you don’t want to spend too much, and when you have too much to think about to worry about luxury. It’s a dull and predictable place to stay, not an exotic retreat. It’s also anonymous, with computerised check-ins and swipe-cards on the doors. Nothing of any interest happens there. Everyone knows this, and therefore everyone expects exactly that. One simply doesn’t interact with fellow residents; one hires a room, and one sleeps in it.

I’d just got in from a quick walk around the area, after a long, Hot and crowded few hours on the trains. Not bothering to look around, I walked in, past the anonymous foyer, and into the lift area. I just noticed, from the corner of my eye, movement behind me, and managed to stop the door swinging shut as someone rushed up. I shouldn’t have, I know; security, and all that. Nonetheless, I did. Perhaps it was a little touch of rebellion against the soulless corporate hotel. More likely, it’s the old-fashioned chivalry that overrules any fears of interlopers or assassins.

Whatever it was, she thanked me, and I glanced at her for the first time, in order to flash a brief smile. The first thing I noticed was an intensity in her eyes as she looked back, entirely too strong to be justified by merely holding a door open. Her head was tilted downwards slightly, with a quirked mouth as she stepped slowly through the door. She was perhaps 40 (which meant that I couldn’t possibly have asked), with rich brown hair falling past her shoulders. She wore a long floral dress and a battered brown jacket, with minimalist, strappy sandals. The dress was demurely cut in a V-neck, revealing pale skin marked by a few freckles below the smooth curve of her neck. I noticed this in a fraction of a second, you understand, rather than by staring. I also noticed her swaying hips, elegant movement, and the movement of her breasts against her dress as she shifted her weight. It was hard not to.

We looked at each other, eyes locked, but saying nothing; speech would have been difficult for me, to be honest. She wasn’t glamorous or an epitome of classical beauty, but still, my breath had caught in my my throat, and I wouldn’t have had a clue what to say. Banal comments about the weather (this is Britain, after all) would be sacrilege. I managed, I’m proud to say, to respond with, “You’re very welcome,” sounding very much as though I meant it. Which, although my brain wasn’t really making any sense, was absolutely true.

The lift beeped (a novelty; half the time they don’t work here), and instinct took over as I bowed and gestured that she should take priority. She had to step around me, but not by much, and she chose to slip past well within the reach of my arms, her jacket brushing lightly against me. I could smell a faint hint of sweat and shampoo. My eyes must have been slightly wide, for her smile broadened and she almost laughed. It’s ridiculous, really: two grown adults, complete strangers, behaving like we were in some sort of romantic comedy. It was this realisation that made me relax, the magnetic hold broken, and the realisation that much as this had the makings of a teenage fantasy, it was indeed purely fantastical. The sexual overtones in her glances were obviously just her playing with ideas in her mind, and certainly wouldn’t lead to anything. Perhaps she just liked seeing men want her.

Well, it would have been rude to disappoint her. I followed her into the lift, facing her on the other side of the doorway. Part of me craved being closer to her, to carry on this impossible role-play scenario, to be able to feel the warmth of her next to me. The other part wanted to be able to see her, to see whether the tension could ratchet up even further.

“Which floor?” I asked. She pursed her lips briefly, amused by some private thought, then said, “Third.”

“As you wish, Madam,” I responded, keeping up the chivalric air, and half-pretending to be a lift attendant in a five-star venue. The cigarette burns in the plastic walls made that unlikely, but that was all part of the charm. I was wearing a loose, white shirt and moderately smart trousers that could almost be formal, so she could go along with it if she wanted to. Instead, she wanted to keep watching me, almost speaking, but somehow not getting there. Her mouth opened a little, once or twice, and I caught a glimpse of the tip of her tongue… then she would stop, flick her hair back, tilt her head, and just look back at me, a small smile curving her lips. I must have seemed very attentive for the whole brief journey, as I doubt I looked away from her the whole time. I hope my thoughts weren’t too obvious in my expression, but I fear that they were. It was one of those rare occasions when I wouldn’t have minded the lift getting stuck somewhere, for a good long time.

Alas, we reached floor three in a matter of seconds, in reality. The door opened. I looked at it, and then back at her, resigned disappointment probably quite clear in my eyes, even though I was perfectly aware that we had reached full time in this little game. In the lingering seconds, she pushed away from the wall and stepped forwards. Her face was unreadable, as if she were weighing options and couldn’t decide what to do.

In the end, she said nothing, broke eye contact, and just stepped out of the lift. The disappointment was even stronger than I’d expected. A split second later, though, I felt her hand close around my wrist. She didn’t stop or turn around, but with an unexpected strength, she pulled me with her. That said, for some reason I didn’t try to resist, even though this little manoeuvre surprised me as much as you can probably imagine. My feet moved of their own volition.

As soon as I was clear of the doors, they got impatient and closed, whisking my absent self away to my designated room. I didn’t care. At that point, I was slightly distracted, because this uncompromising lady had turned around, pushed me back against the doors, and launched herself at me. Her hands reached up around my shoulders, pulling my face down towards her, and her mouth reached up for mine. As our lips parted and our tongues introduced themselves, I felt her body pressed against me; her breasts were so soft and yielding that I instantly knew she wasn’t wearing a bra (if you’ve been paying attention, you’ll realise that that possibility had already crossed my mind). She slowly undulated her chest against me, in an obviously intentional manner, and I carefully brought my hands up to her back. I would have done it sooner, but my brain was only just catching up with what was demanded of it.

Cautiously, and still not quite believing my various senses (this just doesn’t happen, does it? Of course it doesn’t…), my hands began to wander, following the tempo set by her mouth, her tongue circling mine and her breath Hot on my face. One reached up, pulling her head towards me hungrily, and the other sank to her hips, eventually resting tentatively on her buttocks.

At that point, of course, a door opened down the corridor, and the voices of a young couple echoed around the corner towards us. I may have looked slightly panicked, but although she broke off the kiss, she didn’t back away. Her smile was rather wicked as she held me there, her breasts pressing me against the lift doors, until the couple turned the corner to see us. If we hadn’t been in their way, I’m not convinced she would have moved at all.

I console myself that we weren’t doing anything illegal, and nothing was exposed that shouldn’t have been, but still, my embarrassment must have been obvious–just as hers was obviously not there at all. She glanced towards the slightly startled couple, winked, then took my hand and started to walk down the corridor as if she wasn’t in any sort of compromising situation at all. At some point, I remembered to take my hand off her bum, but that was probably far too late. Judging from the suppressed smiles and raised eyebrows, I suspect we may have inspired the other couple to be slightly more lively than they might otherwise have been, that night. “Have a good evening,” I said, stupidly. They laughed in the sort of way that suggested that they knew we were certainly going to, and they might just follow suit. Unspoken collusion adds a certain something; the awareness that we weren’t keeping our secret night life secret was making me feel reckless. Any doubts were starting to fall away.

We walked quickly down the corridor, stopping to kiss and run our hands over each other every few yards. I pushed my knee between her thighs one time, and pulled her chest tight against me on another. She reached down to squeeze my bum, stretching her fingers everywhere, and crushed her lips against mine. After a few seconds we would break off, and rush a few more metres down the corridor.

I’m not sure how she managed to get the door open, because she certainly wasn’t looking at it. One hand was unbuttoning my shirt, and I was trying to lift her up by the thighs, not being too careful about how my fingers reached between them, seeking warmth and finding it. We almost fell into the room, laughing and breathing heavily, then stood looking at each other as the door closed behind us. If there was an intensity downstairs, then now our eyes held reckless abandon. We no longer felt the need to pretend to be polite, and I watched her eyes slowly drift down my body, from my partly exposed chest to the very obvious bulge in my trousers. She licked her lips lasciviously. In return, I no longer had to hide my admiration for her figure, and her nipples that were making themselves known through the thin fabric of her dress.

“This is where I explain that I don’t normally do this sort of thing…” she murmured. “And strangely, it’s actually true. I don’t know where this has come from, but…”

“But who cares, right?” I grin in response. “I certainly don’t. I’ve not been this excited since I was a teenager! You are… magnificent.” I burbled inanely. “And I want you. Please tell me you’ve got nothing better to do for the next week or two?”

She laughed, putting a hand on my chest, and twining her fingers through my hair. “Well… the night is young, as they say. Let’s see how long we can make it last!” Suddenly, though, she looked slightly nervous; there was a hint of uncertainty that hadn’t been there in the corridor. I stepped a little closer, and stroked her head gently. “Shower?” I suggested. It had been a long day on stuffy trains, after all, and I didn’t want to feel sub-standard in the hygiene stakes. She smiled, biting her lip, then nodded and leaned up towards me to kiss me softly.

I took her hand and led her into the dubious-looking, plastic bathroom. Moths were fluttering around inside me, as our initial momentum had been replaced by a deliberate choice for us to take the next steps, as inevitable as they were. While we were kissing frantically in the corridor, there hadn’t been time for thinking, but now the anticipation and nerves were building up. I wanted to see her naked, and to be seen; to feel her skin against mine. A warmth was slowly spreading through my groin, but nameless doubts and inhibitions were buzzing around my head, trying to distract me.

To stop them, I kissed her again. Using a spare hand to turn the water on, I drew her gently towards me. My hands ran over her body, smoothing her dress over her curves. I let my fingers touch the side of her breast, feeling the softness and weight of it, and felt her suck air quickly from my mouth. I tilted my head sideways, widening my mouth to let our tongues reach deeper.

Laughing as steam started drifting around us, we released each other. I unbuttoned the rest of my shirt, dropping it to the floor. She watched as I removed my shoes and socks, undid my belt and carefully, self-consciously took off my trousers; my heart was beating fast, but I tried to seem relaxed and confident. I’m quite fit, and have a few muscles, but I’m no bodybuilder. Still, I hope I’ve got little to be ashamed of, and I wanted her to be able to see everything. That said, although my underwear was becoming uncomfortable by this stage, I decided not to get too far ahead of her. That would be ungentlemanly, after all.

Smiling encouragingly (at least, I hope that’s how it came across), I helped her remove her jacket, and undid the cinch on her dress. As I lifted it slowly upwards, she wriggled her way out beneath, and kicked off her sandals. I took her dress carefully to the bed, before turning back to look at her properly. She had the sort of figure that is, to me at least, irresistible. Not too thin, but with only a few spare pounds, and with heavy, round breasts to die for. As she watched me admiring her, she stood up straighter, turning her shoulders one way and then the other, so that her boobs swayed from side to side. Below that, she wore only a pair of silver, satiny knickers, with some dark hair showing around the edges.

After gazing in awe for perhaps a moment too long, I noticed she was raising an eyebrow at me. “Oh, right,” I muttered. “Sorry–you can’t expect me to keep any wits about me when you’re that gorgeous…” As she laughed, I slipped out of my briefs as elegantly as I could (how is it that they seem purpose-made to trip you up during the process?), and stood before her completely naked. I took a deep breath, aware that my cock was at half-mast due to nervousness. Nonetheless, she made some appreciative noises (for which I was embarrassingly grateful), slipped off her knickers, and stepped in to kiss me once more.

It was glorious. The feel of her hands on my bare skin, and of her warm breasts rubbing gently across my chest; the smoothness of her back, and the taste of her tongue darting around mine, in combination, was indescribable. That first moment of truly intimate, complete contact was unutterably wonderful. I felt one of her hands run playfully over my stomach, and down towards my cock, then softly running along its length, up and down. My lips found her cheek, then her neck, tasting her skin as they wandered downwards towards her breasts. “Suck my tits,” she whispered, holding one towards me for my attention.

I cradled it in my hand, inhaling the scent of her. I ran a fingertip over the areola, goosebumps rising under my touch. The nipple swelled visibly under my breath, and I licked the tip of it, swirling my tongue around it before lunging forward with my lips to envelop it all. Inside my mouth, my tongue flicked and circled her nipple, as I squeezed her breast gently. The taste of her was divine, and I sucked greedily. As I felt her nipple respond, I nibbled it gently, drawing a quick gasp and chuckle.

“Come on, you,” she said, and pulled me into the Shower. We stepped into the steaming water, laughing as we huddled together to get us both under it at the same time. There was Shower gel in a canister on the wall, so I helped myself to a large splodge, and started liberally slathering her body with it. The foam covered her torso, running around and between her breasts, and down over her belly. I knelt down to wash her legs, putting the hair over her Pussy at eye level. I ran my hands down her thighs, and then pushed my fingers between them. I expected her legs to part for me, but surprisingly felt resistance and taut muscles. I looked up at questioningly.

“Ah, ” she said, “I really, really need to pee!” She looked embarrassed, but barely able to stop herself laughing. For a second the absurdity of it took me aback, as if this was an inalienable interruption to the proceedings. But then… then, I thought, why not? What were these rules that we lived by, and was there really any reason for them? It also struck me that on her part, this would have been easily avoided, so presumably she didn’t want to avoid it. I’ve never seen a woman pissing, and… well, here I was kneeling before her, and she was, by all accounts, desperate. Sometimes we have to take the chances given to us.

I grinned slowly. “What are you waiting for, then?” She threw her head back in amusement, her broad smile clearly showing me that she’d planned this. Somehow, that made it even better. “I’m up for anything,” I said, “with you. I want to do all the things I never have.”

At that, she smiled wickedly. “In that case… taste it!” My eyes widened a bit, but I stayed in place as she stepped forward, opening her legs and positioning her groin just in front of my face. She reached down to touch herself, pulling her labia open to reveal the pinkness inside, barely an inch away from me. We made eye contact briefly, before she shivered and closed her eyes. I felt a warm jet against my nose and cheeks, watched it bursting from her urethra. My cock felt as hard as I can ever remember. “Taste it,” she’d said. Ah, fuck it. I clamped my lips around her Pussy, and felt the pungent, salty tang of it fill my mouth. As I ran out of space I let some of it overflow around my lips, but swallowed some of it as well. I flicked my tongue through the jet, licking her urethra and clitoris in one movement, and was rewarded by an involuntary moan.

Alas, it was over all too soon. It was possibly the hottest thing I’d ever done, and I felt soaked in her rich scent, but it wasn’t to last; the Shower was already washing her pee away. I could still taste it, of course, and didn’t want to hog the whole experience… so I stood up and kissed her passionately, tongue as deep as I could reach, transferring all that was left into her. She was more than happy to play along, pulling my head down onto her, opening her mouth as wide as she could. Feeling bolder, I pulled up one of her legs with my Free hand, and gripped her buttock as she wrapped the leg around mine. Still kissing her, I let my soapy fingers reach further, into the space between her cheeks, and found her anus. A fingertip slipped inside, and she arched against me, eyes wide. I simply looked at her, leaving my finger exactly where it was, not moving a muscle.

“Wow,” she said eventually. “That’s… ooooh!” I’d started to push my fingertip in and out, very gently, but obviously with the desired effect. I could feel her sphincter tighten and relax around my finger. “OK, then…” she said, somewhat wonderingly “yeah. Fuck, yeah.” We spent a blissful minute or two with my finger going gradually deeper into her, as my cock rubbed her groin. I got some more of the Shower gel, making everything as slippery as possible, and felt her respond by pushing herself rhythmically onto my finger as I nuzzled her neck.

Eventually, she pulled my hand back, stood up, and reached for my penis. One hand stroked its whole length, and with the other she rolled my balls around in her palm. Her knowing smile preceded her sinking slowly to her knees, the water running over her and pouring down her body. She took some Shower gel, and lathered all around my groin, all over my privates, and between my legs, constantly squeezing my scrotum. As the soap washed off my dick, she leaned forward. Keeping eye contact the whole time, she opened her mouth, pulled back the foreskin, and enveloped the head of it. For a moment she was still, but then I could feel her tongue start to roll around me, flickering over the frenulum and gliding over the glans. Slowly, one hand began to pump along the shaft, rhythmically and in time to her tongue. Her lips began to move forward and back along the shaft, sliding firmly over the skin.