The eyes of the Lioness


Staying in a hotel is sexy. A good hotel, that is. No matter how humdrum your life is, when you dress yourself knowing that in a few hours you will become a mysterious and sophisticated stranger strolling across some beautiful lobby, people can’t be sure you’re not some hot shot entrepreneur, oil tycoon, or secret agent. It’s fun, and feeling like the world is watching is seductive. You preen a little. I know you do. I’ve seen it a hundred times. I’m the man in the lobby with the answer to a thousand questions, who treats you like you want to be treated. I’m your Concierge. This tale goes back a few years, and a few thousand miles away. I was painfully young and single, in the middle east- which was like an alien world to me. It was going to be a difficult weekend- my usual language barrier woes would be doubled as we were hosting a meeting of the deaf community. On the plus side- the Desert Flowers were blooming. Desert Flowers were what we called the woman shaped, laundry shrouded people who shed their religious cocoons to reveal dusky skinned beauties with perfect make-up and exquisite western fashions within the sanctuary of our hotel. Imagine you live your public life wrapped in a shapeless blanket, practically invisible. Then what if that restriction is removed? Exactly- it is liberating, exhilarating palpably sensual- and the possibility of alcohol- another prohibited western staple? To say the prospect of an evening meeting old friends or meeting new people with very similar backgrounds was exciting, would be an understatement. The atmosphere was sexually charged. Two women stuck out in my memory- even then. One was a lovely young wife who I was trying to organise a pedicure treatment for. Both she and her husband were stone deaf and made my attempts at communication near impossible, as I spoke a little, but could not write a single character. Thankfully, her old friend from the deaf school had partial hearing, and she acted as translator. This translator was stunning- utterly beautiful. Bahçelievler escort A cascade of lustrous black hair. Sultry almond shaped eyes like the eyes of a lioness toying with it’s prey. A wasp-waisted body with: impossibly buoyant breasts, great hips, long toned legs, and an ass made for biting. We had a moment during this encounter- simply our eyes touching, but she remained in my thoughts throughout the next couple of days. Drink started flowing. What began with a difficulty in communication became a losing battle for authority as they bonded to a street gang like mentality. The night of the gala dinner was utter chaos. Gorgeous women in incredible gowns not used to alcohol. For deaf people they made a remarkable amount of noise. And trouble. The next morning is when my experience happened. I was doing a fire walk- a security sweep through the halls for anything that shouldn’t be. I found the attractive young wife at a door with her keycard. She was wearing a flattering black cocktail dress, but was quite drunk, and frustrated with the electronic lock. She was beating on the door, making me rush in the quell the situation. I won’t attempt to write our dialogue- as we were making each other more and more confused for about two minutes. Thankfully her gorgeous friend the Lioness walked up from the direction of the lifts- they had checked in together and her room was beside the married couples’. Her little black dress was more revealing, the fit thankfully more figure hugging. My God, those curves. Through the Lioness I gathered that it was, in fact, her room, the key wasn’t working, and her husband had retired earlier. He was stone deaf and so couldn’t hear her frustrated knocking. Having assessed the situation, I used my master key. The husband, however, had manually locked the door, which neither her key nor the master key could unlock. Of course I also had the emergency key, but the magnetic strip was well worn and we were awaiting a new one Bahçeşehir escort bayan from the company. It didn’t work. I was out of options, and I didn’t even have another room to allow her to sleep in as we were fully booked from the conference. The Lioness signed to her upset friend and the woman hugged her. It was then she looked at me properly, recognising me from the day of check-in. There was a dangerous glint to her feline eyes. She explained that she was letting her friend sleep with her in her room. For a moment I was too relieved about the perfect solution to the thorny problem of a guest not being able to enter her own room to notice the sexual undercurrent. I blustered thanks for her help, and then realised the gears had been turning in her head, and I was only catching up. It still shocked me to silence when she said, ‘Leave for maybe…….hmm…… thirty minutes, then come back. You have your master key,’ she indicated to her door, ‘Just let yourself in.’ She flashed a knowing, sexy smile, and my blood migrated south in an instant. She couldn’t have been serious- we were in a public, albeit deserted, hallway, and the woman’s husband was right inside. I then realised everybody within possible earshot was at least partially deaf – the husband completely. The Lioness opened the door for the wife and let her in. She scanned me up and down slowly, pushed those impressive breasts together and moved her hands down her body. She looked at my obviously peaked trousers and purred. Not saying that for poetic merit- the woman contentedly groaned loudly in a purring manner. ‘Thirty minutes.’ And she closed the door. I felt exposed and weak kneed. My head swam with lust. Stray thoughts like: Did that just happen….Can I take my break early…what are they doing in there…is she putting the deaf girl to bed and wants me in the bathroom….threesome….have I somehow misread her….is this right….will I be fired… all this shot through my brain at the same moment Escort Bakırköy as well as the most pressing thought. ‘What the fuck am I going to do for thirty minutes?’ I tried to complete the fire-walk. I checked that the condom in my wallet was in date. I got a spare condom from my locker. I helped the receptionist with one or two things and said I was taking my break earlier than usual. I stepped into the stairwell ahead of time and primed the pump. Heart pounding, I approached her door. I listened, heard nothing. I slid in the master key and it clicked. Access granted. I opened the door some inches and now I heard something. Moaning. The unmistakable moan of a woman in the initial throes of lust. No, two women- a rhythmic two part chorus of a messy soprano and a smoky alto. I neared the corner of the bathroom and let the hall door close as softly as I could. It wasn’t soft enough, however, or the Lioness had some good hearing aides, as I heard an accelerating shuffling sound and a higher pitch and volume from the soprano voice. The bedside lamps cast them in a sensuous yellow glow, two dark skinned brunette Goddesses worshipping each other on a five star altar. To my surprise, the wife was on top, making the most of the arrangement by alternately sucking the nipples on the Lioness’s incredible exposed breasts, and kissing her neck, face and lips. Both women were bucking and fingering each other like crazy, and somehow the fact that they were still mostly dressed made it even hotter. The Lioness arched her back and pulled her friends face down the explore her breasts more. She was making a show for me. As of yet, the other woman didn’t know I was there. It was only then that the Lioness skewered me with her gaze. She was beautiful. She knew it. In the confines of that hotel she could finally flaunt it. I knew I was supposed to play into her fantasy. Was I to attempt a striptease? The idea seemed ridiculous even as I thought of it. Was I to lick my lips, or take out my straining urgent penis and just stroke it for her? Then it hit me- her friend was deaf. I wouldn’t be the leering inexperienced young man that I was. I guide her love-making with my voice, moisten her pussy with my sweet words. I would be the worldly, confident man watching this show as if it happened to me all the time, and make her want me.

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