Monday, March 7, 2011

She said: Can a Bus Dream?, Part 2

Continued from last week:

We lay there for a very long time, incredibly relaxed, just drifting as we gently caressed and stroked each other......until we heard the handle of the door turn followed by a loud thud that made our eyes simultaneously fly open in panic. L, thank goodness, had not only locked the main door, but also has gotten into the habit of blocking the door to 'our' room with a club chair. Between the size of the chair and the resistance from the carpet, we thought it would be a very effective door stop - now we know for sure! Ever since we were surprised by his colleague the day he forgot to lock the door (see story here), we have been taking this extra precaution. We realized it had to be the cleaners, as nobody else would have a key to breach the outer door, or would want to, on a weekend.

In my haste and panic to get dressed, I must have turned my shirt fourteen different ways before I figured out how to get it on. WTF?! I was beginning to think that perhaps I was impaired and I nearly turned to L for help until I realized he was having his own problems! I once again dressed without my underwear and hastily jammed them into a bag. While L, dressed now, went over to deal with the cleaners, I speedily went through the room picking up evidence of our activities, like condom wrappers, tissues and other mischief bag items and getting everything packed up into their bags. I moved like a whirlwind and when L returned, I sat relaxed (well, the illusion of relaxed, anyway - my hands were shaking!) in a chair, bags all packed and tucked away in the corner, looking for all the world as though we had been sitting enjoying a chat when the intrusion came.

The cleaners had moved on to deal with another area first and we decided to move to L's office and eat our lunch there - I had made soup and baked bread. Just as we finished eating, the cleaners came in to his office, did their thing and moved on. L closed and locked his door and turned to me with a gleam in his eye. He unpacked and spread his blanket on the floor, removed his pants and told me to do the same. Then he signalled me to mount him. Intrigued by this daring move - the cleaners were working just outside his door - I climbed on.

Again, that incredibly intense feeling grabbed me. As I rode him, L stroked his fingers along my thighs, then moved to lie back with his hands linked behind his head. I was getting close and I could hear the cleaners moving around outside the door. Closer....and oh, my God this was going to be a phenomenal orgasm. I tumbled over and it was all I could do not to cry out with the intensity of the feeling. L realized and grabbing me by the hair with both hands and said "No screaming!" as he pulled me down and kissed me hard. I honestly don't know how I managed to stay quiet, but beyond some hoarsely whispered profanity I succeeded. I needed a minute to recover before I could resume, but resume I did. As I took him through his paces, moving from a trot to a canter and then to a gallop, L moaned appreciatively and soon raced past the finish line.

As soon as we finished, we quickly cleaned up and got dressed, packing the blanket away, clearing the garbage and so on. We opened the door, but there were no cleaners in sight. L queued up an episode of a favourite sitcom and we watched, laughing and holding hands. As soon as it ended, it was time to pack up and leave to go home. Neither my disappointment that once again I was unable to feel the effects of the pot nor the residual sore throat, which lasted well into that night could not overshadow the sated and happy glow that enveloped me as I drove home.

1 comment:

  1. It's too bad you weren't able to get high from the pot, but at least you got high from the sex! What an incredibly hot encounter. Its making me long for some

    "You better be quiet or they'll hear us!," kind of sex. It is so erotic to be shhhhh-ed with kisses or even fingers. Mmmmm...this story is so nice!