“A patch of rain here and there. I got behind the slowest horse trailer known to man, but I made pretty good time. I listened to that CD you bought last month. I think I’ll just–” Greta passed him with a tender stroke to his arm and freshened up in the bathroom. Of all the rooms they’d stayed in at the Royal, this was one of her favorites. Plush with brocades and fleur-de-lis, the decor was not what she would choose for her own home, but for a few days, she enjoyed the elegance.
Greta pulled a washcloth down from its neat place on the towel rod and carefully turned the Cold knob in the shower to lightly dampen it before wiping her neck. Stepping out of her panties, she freshened up her lady bits, as John called them. He enjoyed her particular scent and taste, but she always wanted to be at her best for him.
When she opened the bathroom door, John was already under the sheets. His clothes were piled on top of his suitcase. “Well alrighty, then.” She shot him a grin as she pulled her dress over her head and unsnapped her bra.
“You don’t mind?” John asked softly. “We could go grab something to eat first, if you–”
Greta slid between the sheets and snuggled as close as she could get. “Are you kidding me? I can eat anywhere. This is what I’ve been needing – skin to skin with you again.” She lifted her head for a kiss as she placed a leg onto his hip.
John’s hand cupped her buttocks as they kissed, their tongues exploring slowly as their hips began to move in anticipation. Suddenly, he slapped her rear. “Hey!” she said, frowning. “What was that for?”
“For making me wait a whole month to taste you again,” he said.
Greta sat partially up, leaning on one elbow with a pout. “I know. I’m so sorry about that. You begged off with that horrible cold. How could we know I’d have a flat tire the next week, followed by a rushed deadline? Believe me, I suffered as much as you. But we can make up for lost time now,” she said softly, moving under the sheet.
Straddling his legs with her back to his face, she started at his feet, kissing them tenderly while she kneaded them with her hands. She kissed his calves, moving up his body until her crotch was above his penis. Taking it in one hand, she guided him inside and began rocking gently, folding her body over his legs so that she could lick them and nibble gently on his skin.
John’s hands were everywhere within reach, caressing her back, her hips, her breasts. “Love?” he said after a few minutes, popping her on the behind again to get her full and immediate attention. “This will not do. I need to see you. Turn, please.”
Without a word, Greta released him from her body, shifted around and slid back over his erection. “Better?” she murmured.
John smiled as she bent forward, supporting herself on her hands. “Better.” He grabbed one of the many pillows on the bed and propped it behind the one beneath his head. They had made love like this so many times, she knew exactly what he wanted.
Greta reached behind his head and pulled the pillows up so that his mouth was positioned at her cleavage. Her head leaned back as he took one of her breasts in his mouth, sucking in rhythm with his thrusts. He wrapped his tongue under the hard, pink nipple, then brought his teeth to the skin just enough to produce a stronger sensation. Her rocking became faster.
John’s mouth moved to the other breast, where he repeated the process. Greta arched her back as she submitted to her climax with a loud moan. She bent her head down for a passionate kiss, never slowing her rhythm. When a second orgasm overtook her, she cried out, “You’re even better than I remembered!”
John pushed her onto her side, still deep within her. Lifting her outside leg, he thrust faster and harder until he climaxed, then pulled her on top of him again. Greta raised herself onto her hands as his rocking continued. “What are you doing?” she asked with a grin.
“Nothing,” he teased. “You just stay right there while I play a little more.”
His erection was no longer rock-hard, but it was hard enough. His hips moved more gently now as Greta’s hips shifted with a mind of their own. When they were in perfect position, she began to grind harder and harder, her clitoris kissing his pubic bone with exquisite intensity. When she came a third time, she laughed out loud, collapsing on his chest. “Now you’re just showing off!”
They lay together, motionless, as their breathing slowed and quieted. When John turned her so that they were facing one another, his cock slipped out. Greta snuggled closer. “I love having you inside of me,” she whispered, “but he definitely deserves a rest.”
John let out a breath fueled by longing. “Sweet Greta,” he murmured, “why am I not married to you?”
“Because you never asked me,” she answered, closing her eyes and enjoying the moment.
John kissed her gently and stroked her cheek, her neck, the outline of her shoulder, her breasts. The paddle fan high above them made her chin-length hair dance in its breeze. He kissed her again, this time more passionately. “Uh oh.”
His cock moved against her stomach, making her giggle. Greta made a show of acting annoyed. “Good grief. Again?”
On their way downstairs for his evening mini-concert, the hotel’s resident pianist and his wife passed by Room 207, stopping for a second as a shriek of laughter came from behind the door. The pianist raised his eyebrows and
