Allure of the Vixen (6 page)

“Why me?” I asked.

She didn’t hesitate, no
What are you talking
about?
Or even worse, a feigned outrage,
Don’t get the wrong idea,
mister.
I liked her even more when she just shrugged and said, “Two
reasons. The other waitress over there—Nancy—was working in the office behind
the front desk the other night. She saw how you dealt with the problem you had
about the mix-up in your reservation. Firm but polite, not blaming anyone,
giving the staff a chance to fix it. A lot of guests would have been screaming
and calling everyone names.”

I didn’t think that had been such a big deal. So I
knew how to handle a problem, big deal. That couldn’t be all of it. “And the other
reason?”

“Because Melissa told me you didn’t hit on her,
which makes you pretty different right off the bat.”

“I might be married.”

“You don’t have a ring, or that pathetic untanned
line that shows you just took one off. Besides, being married never stopped
anyone from hitting on Melissa.”

“And you, I bet.”

“I get my share.”

“And what do you do about it?”

“Mostly nothing.”

Which could mean anything. Like she didn’t complain
to management. Like she just took it as harmless flirting, and played along. Or—

“Mostly?”

“We’re not allowed to fraternize with the
customers,” she said, her voice very level.

I pretended I didn’t know what she meant.
“Fraternize? Isn’t that what we are doing now?”

“Outside of the hotel.”

“I’m staying
in
the hotel. And we’re in the hotel
now.”

Now Pam’s eyes were smiling, although she kept her
voice serious. “I think that is implied.”

“I could be some kind of hotel reviewer, or even
work for the hotel, I could be checking up on the employees, to see if they are
following policy.”

“You’re not.”

“How do you know?” I was intrigued, because she
sounded so confident.

“Because I’ve been in that chair, or one like it,
trying to decide how to forget someone, at least for a night.”

This woman could have been a real psychoanalyst, she
had read me perfectly. “Does it work?”

She slid the check across the table. “Put down your
room number if you want to charge it to your room. And if you want to find
out.”

Our eyes locked. Right then, as powerful as Joanne
was in my mind, Pam’s blue eyes were winning, because she was
here
. She
waited calmly, knowing I was making a decision, a decision she had already
made, I don’t know how or why. I got the sense that if I turned her down, she’d
not be upset, or sad, but she’d wonder about the other woman, the one I was
trying to get out of my head.

I signed the bill, putting my room number in the
appropriate place on the slip. Making my decision.

Pam picked it up. “I get off in an hour.”

I smiled as she walked away, knowing her double
entendre wasn’t an accident.

A half hour later I was in my room, sitting
in the one comfortable chair, my jacket hung up, my tie off. There was a soft
knock at the door. I had a brief humorous thought  about her last comment to
me, wondering if she expected sex and an orgasm in the next thirty minutes.

Pam came in quietly, still in her waitress uniform,
carrying a small bag. “Please close the door,” she said. “I snuck up the
stairs, I would get fired if someone saw me here.”

I led her into the room. “Because you’d be
fraternizing
.”

“They’ve fired people for just being too flirty.
Wives hear about it, and complain. I have no business being on the guest
floors, that would be cause enough.”

“What about security monitors? I don’t want you to
get in trouble.”

“Everyone knows where the cameras are. Just because
people get fired doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”

I had a flashback to Joanne, just what I didn’t
want, wondering how often Pam did this, just as I had wondered about Joanne.

“Can I use your shower?” Pam asked. “I feel greasy,
and I don’t want this to feel like I just came from a bar, even though I did.”

“Sure, but make it quick,” I said.

Pam looked at me as I kept a straight face. She read
me again. “Because I only have about twenty five minutes to go, right?”

I shrugged. “You set the timetable.”

Pam disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door.

She was fast for a woman. She emerged in fifteen minutes,
wearing what looked like a man’s sweatshirt, it was big on her and came to her
thighs. Loose as it was, it did nothing to hide her breasts, which seemed even
larger than they had in the dim light of the bar. If she had reapplied makeup I
couldn’t tell. Here was a woman confident in the way she looked, which she
certainly had every right to be, not only because she looked good, but because
she was in a man’s hotel room.

She was barefoot and braless.

“Sorry, this is all I had to wear,” she said. “My
emergency change of clothes.”

“No slacks?”

“I could put those on too, if you don’t like what
you see.”

“It’s a great look for you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“As it was meant. Something from the minibar?” I
offered.

Pam shook her head. “I had some water in the
bathroom. Plus,” and now she came to stand in front of me, very close, her eyes
bedroom sultry, but not at all faked, I think she was totally in the mood, “I
only have a few minutes left on my timetable, as you called it, and I don’t
want to waste it drinking. Alcohol, anyway.”

Her eyes closed, and I knew what she was waiting
for. I didn’t make her wait. I bent down and kissed her, and she kissed me
back, softly, not a kiss of  impatience, but a slow ramp up, a kiss that said
I
want to make this last.

Again reminding me of the difference between her and
Joanne. With Joanne it had been frantic, hurried lust.

I kissed her back the same way she had kissed me.
Suddenly I was angry, at me, at Joanne, here I had this beautiful woman in my
room, a gift unbidden, unearned, and I was still thinking of Joanne.

We stood like that, in the middle of the room,
swaying slightly, a nice long kiss, a romantic kiss, if you could say that
about two people who knew nothing about each other. Or one person who knew
nothing of the other, only that she was an incredible reader of men. And a very
good kisser.

Pam put her arms around me, standing up on her toes.
My hand was in her flowing hair, sweet smelling, I recognized the hotel shampoo
that I had used, this one bond between us.

I slipped my hand underneath the sweatshirt, onto
her bare back, pulling her close, the fullness of her breasts pressing against
my chest.

“I knew you’d be a good kisser,” she murmured.

“More psychoanalysis?”

“Woman’s intuition.”

“You seem to be able to read me pretty well. I don’t
think anyone’s ever done that before, even people I know.”

She gave me a small kiss, her lips slowly grazing
mine, passing on to my cheek, my neck. “I bet I know what you like more than
anything.”

“What’s that?”

Pam reached down and pulled off her sweatshirt,
releasing her large, luscious breasts, as far from perky as you could imagine,
nothing like the other waitress, and thankfully, nothing like Joanne’s. Pam’s
areoles were the size of half dollars, her nipples a bright pink. I thought she
wanted me to suck on them, that she was thinking what I liked more than
anything was a good set of natural tits.

But she didn’t want that, at least not yet. Instead
she sunk to the floor. She was totally naked now, on her knees, in front of me.
“You have too many clothes on,” she said, as she worked my belt free and
unzipped me.

My cock was hard, even though she hadn’t touched me,
everything working to get me aroused, the sheer unexpected delight of a
beautiful woman, in my room for just a few minutes, already naked, initiating
sex.

And on her knees.

She gently took my cock in her hand, slowly stroking
it. “I was right about this too,” she said, and she took me in her mouth.

I gasped, I hadn’t had this experience for a while, a
woman wanting to take me in her mouth with no real foreplay.  

I was hot, not only from what Pam was doing, but
because she was doing exactly what Joanne had not done.

I felt Pam’s tongue run around the tip of my cock,
under the head, like she was kissing it inside her mouth. She caressed the
shaft with her hands, with her lips. Without letting go she pulled down my
pants, slipping them off me, taking off my socks, all while I stood there.

My hands were clumsy as I unbuttoned my shirt, it
was hard to concentrate on this simple thing as Pam worked her mouth around my
cock. She was gentle but decisive,  just like the way she had come on to me,
knowing what she wanted, knowing what she was doing.

I didn’t care how many men she had slept with, how
many men she had sucked. All that mattered to me right there was how it felt,
and it felt good.

I let myself revel in it, I didn’t do anything to
stop her, to bring her to the bed, to try to reciprocate, to make it something
we were doing together. I just stood over her, and watched her blow me.

And she seemed content doing it, a woman as
comfortable on her knees as she was warding off a roomful of boisterous men. A
woman who had a gift to give and was giving it now.

I grabbed the back of her head and pushed into her
mouth.

She took me deep, letting me have my way, and then
she firmly took back control, at least for the moment, and began stroking me in
earnest. Before I had a chance to face fuck her again, she pressed into me, so
deep I thought she would gag, and she did, just a bit, and only then did she
pull away. And now it was her that was face fucking herself, but I wanted more,
I was selfish, and I wrapped my hands in her hair and moved her head back and
forth, until it was no longer clear who was doing what to whom.

She moaned, I thought maybe she had been touching
herself, but she was focused totally on me, and that moan pushed me near the
edge, she was telling me she was turned on by this, by making a stranger hard,
by sucking his cock, by making him lose control.

I didn’t warn her, I assumed she knew, from her
moan. But even if she hadn’t, I was in no mood now to be thinking of her, I was
just thinking of me, and trying not to think of someone else.

I exploded into her mouth.

Pam moaned again, a moan of excitement, of
contentment, of success. She gently sucked me dry, and, not because I felt
guilty, I helped her to her feet.

Her face was flushed, her eyes were bright. “I was
right, wasn’t I? About what you liked best.” I caught the salty whiff of my
semen as she spoke.

I didn’t have to answer, she knew. “I think we’ve
missed your timetable.”

“Not by much,” she said. “I got pretty close, doing
that to you.”

“Is that possible?”

She took my hand and led me to the bed. “I’ve always
wanted to find out.”

The bed had been turned down, the sheets crisp and
inviting. She curled up next to me in the middle of the king sized bed, her
head on my chest, like she was giving me time to recover.

“I’m not going to guess what you like best,” I said.

“I like what I just did. And I think I’ll like
whatever you want to do.”

She was like a prescription from a psychic doctor,
so unlike Joanne in every way, how she spoke, how she looked, how she let me
take the lead.

And knowing that, that she didn’t expect anything,
or demand anything, no hint of her wanting to use me, I wanted to please her.

Another man might have kicked her out right then, or
pretended to fall asleep. We both knew we’d probably never see each other
again; she had sensed what I needed, and for some reason she had decided to
give it to me.

I kissed her hair, then her lips, then worked my way
down, through the gap between her breasts, not stopping there, I wanted this to
be as different as the last time I had sex as could be. I licked Pam’s stomach,
then caught the hairs above her pussy in my lips and nibbled at them.

She waited for me to spread he legs, not demure, but
again letting me set the tone, putting me back in charge, just as she had
relented to my authority after she had placed herself on her knees.

I hooked my arms under her knees, spreading her
legs, then used my lips to open her pussy, feeling her wetness, more than
wetness, she was soaked, she hadn’t been lying, she had been turned on sucking
my cock.

This was my weakness, knowing I turned a woman on,
that I aroused her well before touching any private part of her. It was a
power, this ability to excite a woman almost by magic.

I lifted her legs, pulling her pussy to my mouth, my
hands on her stomach, feeling her heat. I could tell just by the way she
offered herself to me that I was right, this is what she loved. Lying back,
offering herself up to be licked.

I was gentle, she had put me in that mood, I had
come down from my uncontrolled fucking of her face. I moved my tongue
underneath her labia, avoiding her clit, taking her wetness into my mouth,
savoring it. Around and around I went, going closer and closer to her clit,
which grew and grew, reaching out to me, begging me to take it.

Yet I ignored it, as well as I could, concentrating
on the rim of her labia, although her clit was so swollen whenever I grazed it
Pam lifted her hips higher off the bed.

I stopped, knowing she was close, and thrust my
tongue into her, as deep as I could, flattening my tongue as I withdrew,
dragging it across her clit, but fast, not lingering.

“That’s so good,” she whispered, and I knew without
looking she was smiling.

I did it again, pushing my tongue in her, her juices
filling my mouth, making me hard, so soon, just this did it to me, feeling a
woman swoon under me, feeling her heat, feeling her desire for my tongue, for
me.