Short But Sweet Hotel Meet

Did I find my glass slipper after all?

I started calling hotels in the adjacent town just before 10 AM.

“Sorry, no rooms available until Tuesday.” one said. “Nothing left, sorry,” said another Hotel Reception Clerk. One more to try.

“Yes, two rooms left. Would you like me to hold one?”

YES PLEASE!

It’s Thursday, and I’m calling to find a hotel for the same day to meet with a new potential affair partner. So far, my luck hasn’t been great. Fifteenth’s times a charm, right?

To be fair, I did have someone great. I cared very much for BadMeds. Almost too much. So I let him go.

BroadStrokes wasn’t too far outside my city and had shared interests with me. He likes to read and paint. So I decided to say hi. He was hesitant to reply initially, as he thought we might have familiar friends, but I’m not in the art community…I dabble. We started chatting.

Finally, after three days of joking around and commenting to see if we did know each other, we did introduce our real selves. I knew of him! Not personally, but yes, I’d heard of him. When you have a talented painter in the area, you take notice.

We continued to talk for a week with a planned coffee meet-up the following weekend. It was bitterly cold, so we had to bundle down in our cars.

He told me that he liked to kiss. What he didn’t say was that he was a fantastic kisser. He got in my car, sighed out a hi, and leaned in for a deep kiss. We didn’t do small talk, as we both wanted to put as much touch into each other as we could. I’m not sure why it felt different, but it did.

There was a gentleness and earnestness to his kiss. It was sweet. Like he appreciated that I was a woman and a lady, not just some means to an end. It felt great.

We parted, and the workweek started. Both our lives got busy with work, so we didn’t chat as much as I would like. I tried not to be bossy nor demanding, but understanding. Sometimes people are not ignoring you. He was messaging me as much as he could, and I could see the difference.

You get to see the difference between the users vs. the good ones by now.

Another week passed, and I had a chance to take off a few hours on a Thursday around my work. He could do the same as he made his schedule around showings.

Broad: good to meet today?

Me: Yes, all good. Booking a hotel. It’s not cheap at the last minute.

B: All good. Got my half of the bill. Can’t wait to see you.

I finished up at work and made my way to the hotel. It was not a fancy spot by any means. I almost laughed with the desk clerk pointed toward the key return saying,”you can drop off your key here in the morning, or when you leave at any point…even this afternoon.”

Yup. I am not the first person hooking up at his hotel.

Twenty minutes later, BroadStrokes is looking cute and sweet at my door. He’s a lovely man, a few years younger than me and a lot quieter than me. He walked in with a sweet smile and hugged me. It felt so good. He kissed me sweetly and was intent on making me comfortable.

We stood in the middle of the room for a long time, kissing and holding each other fully clothed. No frantic rushing even though we only had a short time.

Time is something I dislike about all this. You take time off work or beg out of other events for a meet-up, book a hotel, and you only get an hour? That almost doesn’t seem worth the effort. And yes, I realize the irony and bitchiness in this. I want what I want, which is time. I want time to explore with someone, not just a quickie.

If you only get the one time, a quickie will leave your mind just as quick as the sex. Memories stay, even the men don’t.

We eventually lost the clothing, and we lay on the bed together. Touching me all over, BroadStrokes pushed his long fingers thru my folds to feel my wetness. He coated them and brought them up to his mouth, sucked them all one by one.

I loved how sensual he is.

He moved to the side of the bed and adjusted my body. I like it when they push me around a little in bed. It makes it easier. He knelt and started licking my pussy, broad wet strokes across my whole lips and clit. He spread my lips apart and got his entire tongue in there. It was the first time I’d ever had anyone do that. It was amazing. Moans and cries started flying out of me.

He switched to two long fingers scissoring inside, and I came violently. Not once but twice, squirting on the bed. He started lapping up everything. I was adrift in feeling and desire.

Pulling on a condom, he asked me politely if he could fuck me now. I urgently replied, “fuck me, yes, fuck me now!” He laughed and started a fast pace. He pulled my legs up to his chest and pushed my feet down so my knees bent and legs opened wide. I can’t imagine his view. But I think it was delicious because he started pounding me harder.

We switched positions several times, sideways, on my belly, with me on top.

We took a break because he said he was not done with me yet and had more things to try. He went down on me at least twice more.

He wasn’t a fan of receiving head, but I wanted to please him. He held my hair and moved his shaft up and down while I sucked his tip and tickled him with my tongue. He kept touching me the whole time.

Over an hour, I came five times and squirted at least three. He made me come with his mouth, fingers, and cock. For an hour, that was amazing. He came deep inside my pussy.

What made this feel different was that he opened his arms and shyly asked me to cuddle with him. I’m not a great snuggle buddy, but I did, and it felt nice. Comforting.

Even the post-sex chatting was not awkward. Well, okay, a little uncomfortable. It was only the second time I met BroadStrokes in person, but we got past the awkward bits and talked about our lives, painting, and that, yes, we both liked today and had a good time.

He had to go. I needed to stay until the usual end of the workday. For appearances and all that.

“Are you going to be okay in the room by yourself?” he asked.

I was upset that he was leaving a little early than we discussed. Damn!

But then I thought about it. “No. Nope, I’ll be ok.” I wasn’t upset. I was good. At one point, I would have been, but I’ve learned something about myself with all the experiences I’ve had over these past six months.

I don’t need four to five hours with someone to consider it a good meet. I won’t turn down that many hours, but today, I had an hour with someone who made it seem like time stopped for a bit.

I stopped thinking. I stopped overthinking. I felt good. Complete.

And that shit is priceless.

I can’t wait until I see him again.

Read when it doesn’t work out. Sometimes the glass slipper gives you blisters.

If you’d like to ride along with me on this journey, follow me for new adventures or see how far I’ve come.