The Stranger

I had seen him the night before; sitting in the hotel lobby and reading a paper.  He was in his mid-thirties, with dark hair, a pressed, long sleeve button up, dress pants, and expensive shoes.  I imagined he was a banker, except his skin was tan from long days in the sun.  We were checking into the hotel, Brad and I, and while Brad talked to the man behind the counter, I couldn’t help myself. 
I looked him over and imagined what he looked like under the business outfit.  I imagined he was strong, with muscles that rippled down his belly, and arms would hold me tight.  He glanced up at one point and saw me staring; our eyes met and then he looked me over, quickly, before smiling, taking off his little wire frame glasses and folding his paper to set it aside.  I blushed and looked back at the front counter.
Brad finished checking us in and once we started walking toward our room, he had already disappeared from the lobby.  I wondered about him all through dinner at the hotel restaurant, just little snatches of thought, imagining what his name was, what he did for a living, and if I would see him again around the hotel.  We had a few drinks at the bar before heading back to our room, I kept looking at everyone who came through the glass doors, but he was nowhere to be found.  That night, while Brad and I fucked on the hotel balcony, I imagined it was him.  I don’t know why.  I don’t usually imagine other guys when I am with Brad, but that night I did. 
We had probably had one too many at the bar.  We were a little drunk and, when we got back to the room, we were both more than a little horny.  I came in and slipped my top over my head as I walked backwards away from him, grinning as my breasts bounced into view and his eyes devoured them.  Then I dropped my skirt, revealing the silk thigh high stockings I knew he loved.  He took off his shirt and started walking toward me and that’s when I started to imagine it was him, the stranger in the lobby, walking toward me with nothing but desire in his eyes.  I could feel the warmth between my legs starting to spread when Brad finally caught up with me and pulled me into his arms.  We kissed passionately, our tongues lashing out between our lips like a duel as we moved out into the cool night air that overlooked the city.    
I reached down and slipped his heavy cock out of his boxers.  I loved Brad’s cock, the heft of it when it was hard; the way it throbbed in my hand when I stroked it.  He gave a slight moan and closed his eyes as I lowered myself to my knees and slipped it between my lips.  I ran my nails lightly down his naked chest as I rolled my tongue around his hot flesh.  He shivered under my touch and I pushed him deeper into my mouth imagining the stranger’s eyes clamped shut as my tongue stroked his length.  I wondered if he was bigger than Brad, thicker maybe, or just longer.  I ran my hand between my legs and my fingers through my wetness.  It was such a turn on, sucking on Brad and imagining the stranger.  I slipped my free hand around the base of his shaft as I stood up and perched my leg on the rail and directed him toward my swollen mound as he kissed my neck and gripped my breast.
My eyes closed and I took a deep breath as Brad pressed his bulk into me.  I imagined it was the stranger’s cock stretching me and throbbing in my wet darkness…

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