The Art of Erotica

Free Erotic Story: Keeping Things Interesting

AGWDM Keeping things interestingI’m taking some of my published erotic stories out of ebook hibernation and sharing them free and in full on A Good Woman’s Dirty Mind.

As I’ve mentioned several times before, many of our erotic stories are either based on real-life experiences or fantasies we’ve shared. Some of the details in Keeping Things Interesting have been altered just a bit, some are completely fabricated, but our penchant for surprises, mischief, hotel sex and indulgences are definitely in this story.

My friends often ask me how I ever endure being in a long-distance relationship.

What I tell my friends and acquaintances is that he’s an extraordinary man who I connect with like no other person in my life. He’s the most dearest and most honest of friends. The time we spend together is well worth the wait.
What I’ll tell you is that we keep things interesting.

Jack cleared a couple of days to come into town for a visit. Normally, I would have planned some special things to do, but this time he said, “Don’t plan a thing. I have it covered. Just pick me up at the airport.”

He came in on one of the first flights of the morning just as the sky was turning light. I pulled up to a spot in front of the door he would be coming out of, and leaned against the side of the car dressed in a royal blue trench coat that barely covered the top hem of my stockings and the clips of a black garter belt. That and a black lace push-up bra with a nude lining and a pair of Christian Loubotin knock-off pumps were all I wore. I had a dress in the back just in case he wanted to make a stop for breakfast on the way.

He had the cheekiest smile on his face as he walked toward me. His kiss was unlockingly welcome and he discreetly reached under my coat to grope my bare ass without anyone noticing. He held me against him to let me know the next thing he wanted to do was had nothing to do with standing in an airport arrival curb in front of a growing number travelers and taxicabs.

We got into the car and he said, “I need to get to the Townsend. I have a meeting.”

“A meeting? Really?”

I was a bit disappointed, but I knew work was sometimes involved with his trips to town.

“Yes, with a sassy and sexy woman,” he said. “Product testing … six hundred-count Egyptian cotton sheets, in-room stereo system, and supposedly the best brunch in town, served privately for two. I want to see if this place lives up to its reputation.”

Damn, it wasn’t necessary. I spent the last two nights cleaning my place. But how could I pass up time with him in the most elite hotel in the swankiest part of town? Besides, there was nothing quite like hotel sex, and in our experience, the nicer the hotel, the better it was.

As soon as the bellhop left us in the room, he quickly got to the business of untying the sash of my coat and unfastening each button in slow motion. He let the coat slip off my shoulders, down my arms, and onto the floor as he pulled my body firmly against him. His hands softly swept down my back from my shoulder blades to the bottom curves of the cheeks of my ass, softly cupping them as I unbuttoned and pulled off his shirt and made his trousers and boxers disappear. My touches mimicked his — hands barely gliding over the skin and the contours of our bodies, finding those unsuspecting spots that got his dick hard without ever touching it. They were the same touches that made me unaware that I had already parted my legs as he slid his fingers over my wet and wanting pussy lips before slipping them in … first one, then two, and then tree, swirling them within my tightly confined walls until he couldn’t reach the tips of his fingers any deeper inside of me. It was my orgasm – the kind that rattled my body and set off flashes of lights and colors in my head — only for me.

The other four times I came, it was all about us together. I saturated his cock with my juices as he slid it in and out of me, building up speed and intensity every time I came. I wanted to feel the tightening of his body release as he came inside of me, but he held off until after the moment I let out a cry that seemed to go on for minutes. Not one or two, but maybe five. I had no idea. It was unending ecstasy even I was surprised I could sustain as he pummeled me from above as he savored the buildup I could tell was wracking every muscle inside of him.

After he was finally spent and after his long, luxurious strokes inside of me, a grin broke out onto his face. He looked me in the eyes and said, “Good morning, my love. I’ve been thinking of starting the morning with you like this ever since I got on the plane.”

I wrapped my arms and legs around him and was surprised he hadn’t gone soft inside of me. In time, we were at it again, only more actively and acrobatically. He took me to the edge of the bed, held my legs up at twelve and three, coming into me standing at an angle that made me gush not once, but twice, soaking the edge of the mattress for as far as I could feel. Our cries comingled in a sweet, raw harmony that didn’t want to have an ending. But when it did end, he was full of smiles and playful kisses with only a sheet on top of us to retain our warmth we generated.

Over breakfast in bed just before lunch time, I remembered that I really didn’t have anything to wear the rest of the day except for my dress, which would have been a bit formal for just about anything he may have had in mind for the rest of the day.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I have that covered.”

We headed out toward some chi-chi boutiques that were within walking distance from the hotel. He hadn’t let me in on the rest of the plans for the day, so I asked what I should be looking for.
“How about something you could wear for oysters and champagne in the lobby bar before heading downtown to see Madeleine Peyroux in concert this evening?” he said.

“You’re kidding!”

I wasn’t just excited; I screamed and jumped up and down like some game show contestant in the middle of a boutique.

“You told me you wanted to see her a month or two ago, and I got the tickets,” he said as he picked up a sleeveless royal blue trapeze dress and told me to try it on.

I motioned him to come inside the fitting room as soon as I had dress on. I knew the way the way the fabric draped off the curves of my breasts, hips and ass would drive him crazy, but I still had to ask: “What do you think?”

He slid his hand under the hem of the dress to slip his finger under my panties to feel my moistening slit.

“Just don’t wear the panties,” he whispered in my ear.

He pulled his moist fingers away and onto my tongue, and said, “There’s more for you to try on,” before he walked out of the fitting room.

He came back with a slim-fitting halter dress with a deep V that came down to her the bottom of my breast bone. As soon as I had it on, I flung open the door, leaned my hand against the frame of the door, and just stood there.
His eyes pierced through me. He pushed me back into the room and against the fitting room wall, slid his hand under the top of the dress to grab my breast hard, and pressed his trouser-cloaked cock against me.

He didn’t say a word as he pulled away.

“Tease!” I said in a quiet mock scream. “I want more!”

“More clothes?” he asked jestfully as he opened the door to walk out. “Coming right up, my dear.”

He came back with a short flouncy sundress that held up my tits like a wanton wench when I tried on. He bent me over and flipped the bottom of the dress over my hips and slid his cock slowly and deeply inside my pussy. I let out a purring moan that was may have been a bit too loud.

“Pardon me,” the saleswoman said from the other side of the door. “But I’m going to have to ask you to leave if you don’t stop …”

He pulled out, zipped up quickly, grabbed two of the three dresses, opened the door, and told the uncomfortable looking saleswoman, “We’ll take these plus the one she has on. She’ll need some jewelry and shoes, Size 7, that you think will go with them. Here’s my credit card.”

I don’t know whose jaw hit the floor first – mine or the saleswoman.

“Jack, I can’t believe what you just …” I gasped before he cut me off with a deep kiss.

I was flushed, breathless and still wanted more of him, but I knew we were pushing our luck.

By the time we came out the fitting room, the saleswoman had about seven or eight pairs of shoes and a counter full of bracelets, cocktail rings, necklaces and earrings waiting for us.

“Take whatever fits and whatever you think you need to polish off the look,” he said.

I tried to protest. It was all too much.

“How often do you get to be lusted after and assaulted like that in a dress shop?” he asked with a wink and a grin, barely within earshot of the saleswoman.

I grabbed him, kissed him, and smiled like a Cheshire cat who knew she had gotten away with doing something really, really bad.

“I have to get back to the room and make some phone calls and get to some emails while you have someone do your hair and your makeup at the salon down the street,” he said as he signed the bill and sent me off with a kiss.

Of all the times I’ve spent with Jack and all the places we’ve been, he’s has always gone first class, but this by far was the most over the top adventure we’ve been on. Hell, if he thought it was worth to spill that kind of change for a kinky exchange in a fitting room, I would have done it just for the thrill. Then there was the trim, the keratin treatment, the blowout, and the makeup that the stylist used to fix me up for the night that went right in my bag along with a gift certificate for the lingerie shop next door. I had way too much fun picking out a few surprises for him.

When I came back to the room, Jack looked up at me and went quiet on a phone conversation he was having.
“Excuse me, but I’ll have to get back to you later, maybe tomorrow,” he said.

He tossed his phone on the desk, walked directly toward me without saying a word, and pinned me face forward against the wall. He pulled my dress off, leaving me only in my heels, and penetrated me from behind. I was wet immediately, and the wetter I got, the harder and faster he slammed into me.

“Faster, damn it! Faster!” I commanded. “I want to feel you as deep inside of me as you can get!”

He took to my commands at face value and more, pulsing into me so hard that that front of me pounded onto the wall like a fixture that was never going to come off. As I let out a stream of cum that made me weak in the knees, he pulled out slightly, smacked my ass cheek hard, and went back to drill me some more. I could hear him growl and feel him tense as he tried to hold back, but he couldn’t.

“Ahhh … yes … Jack!” I cried as I slowly unglued myself from the wall, letting Jack hold me from behind.
He pulled my hair up and kissed me on the side of my neck with his soft lips that barely touched my skin. My entire body went from being tight and stiff to wanting to quiver, collapse and fall to the floor. He promptly held me up to catch me.

I couldn’t find words as I sighed and tried to catch my breath and reorient myself. The English language was almost entirely wiped from my mind until I finally said, “I certainly wasn’t expecting that from you.”

He smiled, kissed me on the lips, held me close, and said, “I’ve learned not to expect anything when I’m with you, even in my best laid plans. Speaking of best laid plans, we need to get cleaned up and dressed up. There’s a plate of oysters and a couple of flutes of champagne waiting for us in the lobby bar.”

To anyone passing us by in the bar, we looked like the kind of proper, well-heeled, blissfully in love couple that people envied. Perhaps we sat just a little too close and had too much fun feeding each other, especially in a place where I could run into someone I knew, but I didn’t care. I’m sure whoever walked by said to themselves, “I wish that was me.”

I held onto the crook of his arm as we climbed the stairs to a private box just for the two of us where there were more champagne and finger foods. During the show, we’d scan the audience nearby before I’d rub my hand over his cock or he’d slip his hand on my thigh under the hem of my dress, each time sliding closer to the apex of my legs.
Madeleine Peyroux was exquisite, and sang most of the songs off her new album, most of which Jack had loaded in his iPod and played earlier that morning during our two rounds of reunion sex. I laughed to myself that I hadn’t picked up a hint of what was to come later in the evening.

Thank goodness we had a sedan that drove us back to the hotel. Tipsy, we made out like teenagers with Jack trying to score like a hot and horny captain of the varsity football team with the homecoming queen. I tried to push off his advances since there was no divider between us in the back seat and the driver up front, but Jack finally silenced me with an open-mouthed kiss as he prodded his finger inside of me until I left a tell-tale puddle on the seat.

“Tell you what,” he said in a rough and low whisper as we pulled up to the front door of the hotel. “Go up to our room and get comfortable. I have some things to check on and take care of at the front desk.”

For as many ways that Jack had a way of spoiling me in the lap of luxury when we’re together, I always thrilled and bowled over every time he pulled off the “little” surprises and touches, like the plate of chocolate truffles and the bottle of Taittinger vintage brut that was waiting for us in the room. This was definitely going to be a black lace corset, stockings and heels kind of night – one of the things I picked up at the lingerie store — my surprise for him.

Jack had a glisten in his eye and a gleam in his smile as he came through the door with a medium-sized cardboard box.

“As much fun as we had out today, I’m thinking I should have picked up this package earlier,” he said as he tore the box open and pulled out a satiny black sleep mask.

“Gosh, and I thought that smile was for me,” I said as he put the mask on me.

“It is, and there’s more for a sassy girl like you,” he said as he gave me a couple of light smacks on the ass before sitting me on the edge of the bed.

I could hear plastic wrapping being torn away and crumpled from the area of the table on which he laid the box. Then there was the sound of a soft thud and a light metal clang that sounded as if they made contact with the table.

“So, what else do you have for me?” I asked with all my girlish charm.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said as I could hear him ripping through more plastic wrap and placing more similarly sounding items on the table.

Jack gave me a gentle kiss on the lips and glided his hand along the inside of my arm all the way to my wrist. He stopped to hold it firmly as he wrapped a wide, soft leather band around it.

“Oooh! Darling!” I exclaimed. “I thought you didn’t have an interest in such implements!”

“Well, you’ve dropped enough hints over the past few months, and the more I looked into this, the more I liked the idea and what I could do with these,” he said as he heard him secure and tighten the band with some kind of metal fastener.

What I didn’t expect was the sound of a chain and the metal clicking sound that attached to the band.

“And you know how much I enjoy basking you in pleasure,” he added.

I swore I could hear him wink. Or maybe it was that same tone in his voice that he used when he did wink at me … or had winkful thoughts.

“Here, put your arm like this,” he said as he dropped my upper arm and bent my forearm up from the elbow.

The chain pulled my arm out bent, slightly stretched out, but rather comfortably when I was able to let it drop from the taut chain.

“I have to admit that I always thought of bondage as being a brutal and barbarian thing, but seeing you like this in this gorgeous lace corset, your lovely legs in those stockings and how they look in those high heels, you look beyond beautiful,” he said as he drew his hand down my other arm, repeated the same routine as the first arm.

I felt a strong pulsing sensation deep in my loins I swore could have been measured on the Richter scale even though he hadn’t touched me between my legs yet. He finally got around to barely touching the inside of my thigh, which made me wiggle and shift that usually gave him the signal that I wanted to be touched just a little more forcefully just a finger length away. I knew I could tell him if I really wanted to, but I felt couldn’t impress my will with the blindfold on and my arms held in place. It was strange how the loss of my sight and ability to touch him put me at his mercy.

As his hands slowly trailed down my leg to my ankle, he spread my leg outward and I felt another leather band being wrapped and secured around my ankle. I heard the familiar clang of the buckles and the chains. If only I could see myself. If only I could see the look on his face.

“My goodness, you are beautiful,” he said as I heard him attach the last chain to the ankle of my second foot. “I will have these visions of you imbedded in my mind forever.”

Now I could understand why he held off giving my lips and the tight opening between my legs the attention they were begging for earlier. His touch wouldn’t have been quite as intense as they would be once his hands that were drifting their way back up my legs would reach their final destination. I knew what his fingers, lips and tongue could do, and my deep and heavy breaths tried to convey that. I’m sure he could see what I was feeling by the way my hips struggled to swagger and sway in front of him.

Instead, I felt his hands pull away, and I could hear his voice drifting off as he said, “You’ve been so cooperative. I think you deserve a treat.”

I could hear the muffled “pop” of the champagne bottle being opened and the bubble-laced liquid being poured into a glass.

“Here, my sweet,” he said as he tipped the rim of the crystal flute onto my lips. I couldn’t think of a more romantic, decadent, and oh-so-wrong way to consume this elixir that popped on my tongue like the lightest of kisses and subtlety iced my throat with its almost sweet liquid dryness.

I opened my mouth like a newly-hatched bird would with its wide open beak and its bobbing head, searching for a worm or a bug from its mother it could not yet see. I swore I could feel the next sip coming to my lips, but this time it was the soft-formed chocolate of a truffle that he let half-way into my mouth, keeping it on my teeth until I bit into it. I held onto the taste of raspberry and chocolate with a hint of espresso linger in my mouth until it completely coated and dissolved down my throat. The flavor and the taste was bigger, bolder and louder than anything I had ever eaten.

Jack brought the glass to my lips again. This time, he sucked on my tongue and my lips as if he was trying to taste any remnants of the wine that was left behind, and then pulled away. I leaned forward to properly finish that kiss, wanting to suck in his tongue and curl around it tightly and not let it go.

Then I felt the soft and lightest touch of two of his fingers trail on top of my open pussy lips, from the bottom to the top, making a quick and deliberate flip over my clit over the lace of my panties. I let out the biggest sigh over that one brief touch. The nerve endings of my lips and inner walls created a low running buzz from the wetness with which it came in contact. When I realized his hand pulled away and wasn’t coming back, I only had the strength and spirit to barely whisper, “More, please.”

My body began to tense again as did my breathing. When that didn’t work as a cue to touch me, I began to flail my legs.

“If you only knew how hard it is for me not to take that pussy as my own, but I’ve never seen you more beautiful than you are now,” he said. “You’re the picture of elegance trapped raw, yearning lust I won’t get to see if I have my way with you, but if you’ll allow me one small indulgence …”

His hand trailed up my torso to one of my breasts and slid its way through the top of my corset and squeezed my breast firmly. I threw my head back and let out a low, soft moan. Right before I could completely let out my breath, he pinched my nipple and slipped a finger under the warm and damp crotch of my panties and between my extremely slippery lips. I could swear I was dripping on his finger.

I slid my hips toward him to guide him to probe deeper and clenched my inner walls to lock in his finger. His finger twisted as it tried to pull out. Perhaps he really wasn’t in as much control as he thought. Or maybe he was.
I could feel him come face-to-face with me with his lips brushing up against my lips as he mouthed these words:
“You really want my tongue to probe you deep inside? To drink from your juices that flow so freely?”

“Yes,” I sighed.

He nudged his finger a bit further inside and asked, “Or do you want my finger?”

“Yes!” I commanded.

He slipped a second finger inside, forced both of them inside deeper still with his fingertips pressing on the contours, and asked, “Or do you want two fingers?”

The intensity of what I was feeling was almost more than I could handle. My response was a loud and unequivocal: “Yes!”

My walls clenched tighter as he stroked them in an out. I knew by the soft and loan groan that was coming out of the bottom of my throat that I was about to come hard at any change of touch, rhythm or sound.

A third finger invaded my hole and sent me screaming. I could not contain any level of control inside my body or my mind as his fingers circled inside of me and his firm thumb circled over my clit relentlessly. I could feel myself climaxing like never before, but I just couldn’t completely let go. I couldn’t stop screaming. I couldn’t find the end of what I was feeling and I didn’t want to, not even when the pace of Jack’s probing fingers slowed and pulled out gently one at a time.

When my heart beat and breathing came back to normal, Jack kissed me on the lips and asked in his most tender voice, “Do you need me to unlatch you?”

I nodded. It was only then that I realized that my arms felt achy and sore. He unlatched the wrist cuffs from the chains and my arms dropped limp. He took each arm and moved it back and forth, up and down until they felt flexible and limber again. He gave me sips of champagne until my mouth felt fully hydrated again.

He laid me on my back and kissed me as he took my hands above my head and locked my wrists together. My legs, which were still secured taught at each end of the foot of the bed, exposed the opening to my drenched pussy even wider to him and the cool room air.

“You are a disheveled mess, my dear, and more beautiful than ever,” he said, unfastening the chains that secured my ankles at the bottom of the bed.

He pulled my legs together and let them go limp off the bottom of the mattress. He picked up each leg, one at a time, and let them fall limp until I felt no stiffness.

“But I am not done with you, my sweet,” he said, with a devilish tinge in voice as he walked away. He came back and put two pillows under my ass cheeks. I could hear the chains being repositioned on the spindles at the foot of the bed.

My body began to squirm. My legs resisted his insistence of being lifted up in the air and reattached to the chains that were now above the mattress. I would have voluntarily opened my legs for him. I wanted them wrapped around his hips and back.

I heard the sound of his shirt falling to the floor, the unbuckling of his pants, and the pull of his zipper of his pants before they, too, hit the floor. I could feel the movement of him crawling over me and straddling me on each side of my shoulder before the tip of his cock landed on my lips.

“Tell me that you love my cock,” he said, pressing it through my lips.

“I love your cock,” I mumbled as best I could with my lips around his thin-skinned tip that was being stretched by his hard and rigid rod.

“Show me how you love it,” he insisted by shoving it in deeper inside after every time he pulled away.

The deeper he forced it in, the tighter my mouth held it in with my tongue trying to lap around it on all sides. The more of his cock I took in, the more I wanted it in the spot between my legs that was becoming wet again. I could feel my fluids dripping down my ass. I tried to mumble where I wanted him to be, but my requests were indecipherable. I’m sure he had to know. My legs were tensing inward, trying to preserve my orgasm for when he finally decided he needed something other than my mouth.

He finally pulled his cock out of my mouth and tore the blindfold off my eyes. His penetrating gaze never left my eyes as he backed up, walked around to the foot of the bed, and rubbed his wet cock against the slipperiness of my open lower lips.

“How bad do you want it?” he asked.

“Bad,” I said, being forthright.

Still stroking on the tips of my lower lips, he asked, “How deep do you want it?”

“Deep,” I said, louder.

Without warning, he plowed his cock all the way in and let it slip and slide in and out a few times until he asked, “How hard do you want it?”

“Hard!” I said, even louder.

“How hard?” he asked as he picked up the tempo.

“Harder!” I yelled.

“Harder?” he asked.

“Yes!” I screamed.

His groin made full contact with the skin between my legs. His balls flung against my ass with every thrust. Our eyes never unlocked until I just couldn’t hold back on a stream of cum that coated his cock and a scream I’m sure that probably woke and startled anyone sleeping in half of the downtown area.

He slowed down as soon as I tried to catch my breath. He wasted little time in wanting to continue.

“Again?” he asked with his head cocked and an impish grin on his face.

“Yes,” I said, vixen-like, tightening my insides around his eager cock again.

This time, his strokes were long and languid, like lying on a boat on waves that slowly rocked up and down and back and forth. As he picked up his rhythm, so did the tingling on my slick walls.

“Faster?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said in the most encouraging way.

He didn’t heed my request, or should I say, my command. Instead, he unhooked the chains from my ankle cuffs and brought my legs against his chest as he leaned in closer to me. Then he started plowing into me with a vengeance. I could tell from the look on his face and the by way he was starting to make guttural noises that he needed to let loose from deep inside. I lifted my hips as far up as I could to crash into his every almost pulverizing move. The farther he leaned into me, the more I came and the louder I screamed. I knew he was trying to hold back for as long as he could, but I just couldn’t resist saying as loud as I could, “I want to feel you blast your hot stream deep inside of me!”

Jack shifted gears, turned up the power, and set himself into overdrive. We went at it as if we were scorching the sheets and setting ourselves on fire. I was leaking fluids all over the place and thoroughly soaked the pillow under my ass. If that wasn’t enough for him, he pulled down the top of my corset and tweaked my nipples hard, making my climax feel as if it was spiraling out of control with no end. The tighter I clenched my pussy and the louder I screamed, I could feel his cock feel as if it was going to burst, I could see and feel how he wanted to let loose in earnest.

He finally let go, first with a blast and then with a trail of cum that continued to let his still hard cock cruise between my legs. The wrenched look on his face softened to a glow that cast over me. I could do this all night with my legs wrapped around his shoulder like the embrace I couldn’t give him with my hands restrained and stretched above. Still, we were linked in a closeness we weren’t quite ready to give up.

He asked me to bring my hands forward to unlock the bands. I pulled him in for a long and still embrace as he fell upon me, locked between my legs.

“That wasn’t so barbaric, was it?” I asked.

He rolled over, laughed, gave me a warm, firm kiss, and said, “It was. In every delightful way possible.”

I woke the next morning, fitting perfectly next to him as he held me next to him on his side. His skin was warm and his slumbering embrace was even warmer. I didn’t want to get out of bed and I didn’t want him to leave that evening.

We held each in departure lobby and had no qualms about holding each other close in front of all the people walking past and heading off to any of number of places around town. Wherever they were going or where coming from, they couldn’t possibly be to the kinds of places we’ve been or the things we did.

As an attendant was calling for passengers to board his plane, the tears started welling in my eyes. He didn’t have to see them coming, he felt it.

“No tears,” he said.

“You should know by now that these are happy tears,” I said.

I should know by now that the last kiss we shared wouldn’t be our last.

Art credit: Old Kiss, Leonid Afremov

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